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diff --git a/29247-tei/29247-tei.tei b/29247-tei/29247-tei.tei new file mode 100644 index 0000000..efc264c --- /dev/null +++ b/29247-tei/29247-tei.tei @@ -0,0 +1,25649 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" ?> + +<!DOCTYPE TEI.2 SYSTEM "http://www.gutenberg.org/tei/marcello/0.4/dtd/pgtei.dtd" [ + +<!ENTITY u5 "http://www.tei-c.org/Lite/"> + +]> + +<TEI.2 lang="en"> +<teiHeader> + <fileDesc> + <titleStmt> + <title>The Academic Questions</title> + <author><name reg="Cicero, M. T.">M. T. Cicero</name></author> + </titleStmt> + <editionStmt> + <edition n="1">Edition 1</edition> + </editionStmt> + <publicationStmt> + <publisher>Project Gutenberg</publisher> + <date>June 26, 2009</date> + <idno type="etext-no">29247</idno> + <availability> + <p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and + with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it + away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg + License online at www.gutenberg.org/license</p> + </availability> + </publicationStmt> + <sourceDesc> + <bibl> + Created electronically. + </bibl> + </sourceDesc> + </fileDesc> + <encodingDesc> + </encodingDesc> + <profileDesc> + <langUsage> + <language id="en"></language> + <language id="la"></language> + <language id="it"></language> + <language id="el"></language> + </langUsage> + </profileDesc> + <revisionDesc> + <change> + <date value="2009-06-26">June 26, 2009</date> + <respStmt> + <name> + Produced by Ted Garvin, David King, and the Online + Distributed Proofreading Team at <http://www.pgdp.net/>. + </name> + </respStmt> + <item>Project Gutenberg TEI edition 1</item> + </change> + </revisionDesc> +</teiHeader> + +<pgExtensions> + <pgStyleSheet> + .boxed { x-class: boxed } + .shaded { x-class: shaded } + .rules { x-class: rules; rules: all } + .indent { margin-left: 2 } + .bold { font-weight: bold } + .italic { font-style: italic } + .smallcaps { font-variant: small-caps } + </pgStyleSheet> + + <pgCharMap formats="txt.iso-8859-1"> + <char id="U0x2014"> + <charName>mdash</charName> + <desc>EM DASH</desc> + <mapping>--</mapping> + </char> + <char id="U0x2003"> + <charName>emsp</charName> + <desc>EM SPACE</desc> + <mapping> </mapping> + </char> + <char id="U0x2026"> + <charName>hellip</charName> + <desc>HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS</desc> + <mapping>...</mapping> + </char> + </pgCharMap> +</pgExtensions> + +<text lang="en"> + <front> + <div> + <divGen type="pgheader" /> + </div> + <div> + <divGen type="encodingDesc" /> + </div> + + <div rend="page-break-before: always"> + <p rend="font-size: xx-large; text-align: center">The Academic Questions,</p> + <p rend="font-size: xx-large; text-align: center">Treatise De Finibus.</p> + <p rend="font-size: large; text-align: center">and</p> + <p rend="font-size: xx-large; text-align: center">Tusculan Disputations</p> + <p rend="font-size: large; text-align: center">Of</p> + <p rend="font-size: xx-large; text-align: center">M. T. Cicero</p> + <p rend="font-size: large; text-align: center">With</p> + <p rend="font-size: large; text-align: center">A Sketch of the Greek Philosophers Mentioned by Cicero.</p> + <p rend="font-size: large; text-align: center">Literally Translated by</p> + <p rend="font-size: x-large; text-align: center">C. D. Yonge, B.A.</p> + <p rend="text-align: center">London: George Bell and Sons</p> + <p rend="text-align: center">York Street</p> + <p rend="text-align: center">Covent Garden</p> + <p rend="text-align: center">Printed by William Clowes and Sons,</p> + <p rend="text-align: center">Stamford Street and Charing Cross.</p> + <p rend="text-align: center">1875</p> + </div> + <div rend="page-break-before: always"> + <head>Contents</head> + <divGen type="toc" /> + </div> + + </front> +<body> + +<pb n='i'/><anchor id='Pgi'/> + +<div rend='page-break-before: always'> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>A Sketch of the Greek Philosophers Mentioned by Cicero.</head> + +<p> +In the works translated in the present volume, Cicero +makes such constant references to the doctrines and systems +of the ancient Greek Philosophers, that it seems desirable +to give a brief account of the most remarkable of those +mentioned by him; not entering at length into the history +of their lives, but indicating the principal theories which +they maintained, and the main points in which they agreed +with, or differed from, each other. +</p> + +<p> +The earliest of them was <emph>Thales</emph>, who was born at Miletus, +about 640 <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> He was a man of great political sagacity and +influence; but we have to consider him here as the earliest philosopher +who appears to have been convinced of the necessity +of scientific proof of whatever was put forward to be believed, +and as the originator of mathematics and geometry. He was +also a great astronomer; for we read in Herodotus (i. 74) +that he predicted the eclipse of the sun which happened in +the reign of Alyattes, king of Lydia, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 609. He asserted +that water is the origin of all things; that everything is produced +out of it, and everything is resolved into it. He also +asserted that it is the soul which originates all motion, so +much so, that he attributes a soul to the magnet. Aristotle +also represents him as saying that everything is full of Gods. +He does not appear to have left any written treatises behind +him: we are uncertain when or where he died, but he is said +to have lived to a great age—to 78, or, according to some +writers, to 90 years of age. +</p> + +<pb n='ii'/><anchor id='Pgii'/> + +<p> +<emph>Anaximander</emph>, a countryman of Thales, was also born at +Miletus, about 30 years later; he is said to have been a pupil +of the former, and deserves especial mention as the oldest +philosophical writer among the Greeks. He did not devote +himself to the mathematical studies of Thales, but rather to +speculations concerning the generation and origin of the +world; as to which his opinions are involved in some obscurity. +He appears, however, to have considered that all +things were formed of a sort of matter, which he called +τὸ ἄπειρον, or The Infinite; which was something everlasting +and divine, though not invested with any spiritual or intelligent +nature. His own works have not come down to us; +but, according to Aristotle, he considered this <q>Infinite</q> as +consisting of a mixture of simple, unchangeable elements, +from which all things were produced by the concurrence of +homogeneous particles already existing in it,—a process which +he attributed to the constant conflict between heat and cold, +and to affinities of the particles: in this he was opposed +to the doctrine of Thales, Anaximenes, and Diogenes of Apollonia, +who agreed in deriving all things from a single, not +<emph>changeable</emph>, principle. +</p> + +<p> +Anaximander further held that the earth was of a cylindrical +form, suspended in the middle of the universe, and +surrounded by water, air, and fire, like the coats of an onion; +but that the interior stratum of fire was broken up and collected +into masses, from which originated the sun, moon, and +stars; which he thought were carried round by the three +spheres in which they were respectively fixed. He believed +that the moon had a light of her own, not a borrowed light; +that she was nineteen times as large as the earth, and the sun +twenty-eight. He thought that all animals, including man, +were originally produced in water, and proceeded gradually +to become land animals. According to Diogenes Laertius, he +was the inventor of the gnomon, and of geographical maps; +at all events, he was the first person who introduced the use +of the gnomon into Greece. He died about 547 <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Anaximenes</emph> was also a Milesian, and a contemporary of +Thales and Anaximander. We do not exactly know when he +<pb n='iii'/><anchor id='Pgiii'/> +was born, or when he died; but he must have lived to a very +great age, for he was in high repute as early as <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 544, and +he was the tutor of Anaxagoras, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 480. His theory was, +that air was the first cause of all things, and that the other +elements of the universe were resolvable into it. From this +infinite air, he imagined that all finite things were formed by +compression and rarefaction, produced by motion, which had +existed from all eternity; so that the earth was generated out +of condensed air, and the sun and other heavenly bodies from +the earth. He thought also that heat and cold were produced +by different degrees of density of this primal element, air; +that the clouds were formed by the condensing of the air; and +that it was the air which supported the earth, and kept it in +its place. Even the human soul he believed to be, like the +body, formed of air. He believed in the eternity of matter, +and denied the existence of anything immaterial. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Anaxagoras</emph>, who, as has been already stated, was a pupil of +Anaximenes, was born at Clazomenæ, in Ionia, about <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 499. +He removed to Athens at the time of the Persian war, where +he became intimate with Pericles, who defended him, though +unsuccessfully, when he was prosecuted for impiety: he was +fined five talents, and banished from the city; on which he +retired to Lampsacus, where he died at the age of 72. He +differed from his predecessors of the Ionic School, and sought +for a higher cause of all things than matter: this cause he +considered to be νοῦς, <emph>intelligence</emph>, +or <emph>mind</emph>. Not that he +thought this νοῦς to be the creator of the world, but only +that principle which arranged it, and gave it motion; for his +idea was, that matter had existed from all eternity, but that, +before the νοῦς arranged it, it was all in a state of chaotic +confusion, and full of an infinite number of homogeneous and +heterogeneous parts; then the νοῦς separated the homogeneous +parts from the heterogeneous, and in this manner the +world was produced. This separation, however, he taught, +was made in such a manner that everything contains in itself +parts of other things, or heterogeneous elements; and is what +it is only on account of certain homogeneous parts which +constitute its predominant and real character. +</p> + +<pb n='iv'/><anchor id='Pgiv'/> + +<p> +<emph>Pythagoras</emph> was earlier than Anaxagoras, though this latter +has been mentioned before him to avoid breaking the continuity +of the Ionic School. His father's name was Mnesarchus, +and he was born at Samos about 570 <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi>, though some +accounts make him earlier. He is said by some writers to +have been a pupil of Thales, by others of Anaximander, or of +Pherecydes of Scyros. He was a man of great learning, as +a geometrician, mathematician, astronomer, and musician; +a great traveller, having visited Egypt and Babylon, and, +according to some accounts, penetrated as far as India. +</p> + +<p> +Many of his peculiar tenets are believed to have been derived +from the Tyrrhenian Pelasgians, with whom he is said to have +been connected. His contemporaries at Crotona in South Italy, +where he lived, looked upon him as a man peculiarly connected +with the gods; and some of them even identified him +with the Hyperborean Apollo. He himself is said to have laid +claim to the gifts of divination and prophecy. The religious +element was clearly predominant in his character. Grote +says of him, <q>In his prominent vocation, analogous to that +of Epimenides, Orpheus, or Melampus, he appears as the +revealer of a mode of life calculated to raise his disciples +above the level of mankind, and to recommend them to the +favour of the gods.</q> (Hist. of Greece, iv. p. 529.) +</p> + +<p> +On his arrival at Crotona, he formed a school, consisting at +first of three hundred of the richest of the citizens, who bound +themselves by a sort of vow to himself and to each other, for +the purpose of cultivating the ascetic observances which he +enjoined, and of studying his religious and philosophical +theories. All that took place in this school was kept a profound +secret; and there were gradations among the pupils +themselves, who were not all admitted, or at all events not at +first, to a full acquaintance with their master's doctrines. +They were also required to submit to a period of probation. +The statement of his forbidding his pupils the use of animal +food is denied by many of the best authorities, and that of his +insisting on their maintaining an unbroken silence for five +years, rests on no sufficient authority, and is incredible. It is +beyond our purpose at present to enter into the question of how +<pb n='v'/><anchor id='Pgv'/> +far the views of Pythagoras in founding his school or club of +three hundred, tended towards uniting in this body the idea +of <q>at once a philosophical school, a religious brotherhood, +and a political association,</q> all which characters the Bishop +of St. David's (Hist. of Greece, vol. ii. p. 148) thinks were +inseparably united in his mind; while Mr. Grote's view of +his object (Hist. of Greece, vol. iv. p. 544) is very different. +In a political riot at Crotona, a temple, in which many of his +disciples were assembled, was burnt, and they perished, and +some say that Pythagoras himself was among them; though +according to other accounts he fled to Tarentum, and afterwards +to Metapontum, where he starved himself to death. +His tomb (see Cic. de Fin. v. 2) was shown at Metapontum +down to Cicero's time. Soon after his death his school was +suppressed, and did not revive, though the Pythagoreans continued +to exist as a sect, the members of which kept up the +religious and scientific pursuits of their founder. +</p> + +<p> +Pythagoras is said to have been the first who assumed +the title of φιλόσοφος; but there is great uncertainty +as to the most material of his philosophical and religious +opinions. It is believed that he wrote nothing himself, and +that the earliest Pythagorean treatises were the work of +Philolaus, a contemporary of Socrates. It appears, however, +that he undertook to solve by reference to one single +primary principle the problem of the origin and constitution +of the universe. His predilection for mathematics led him +to trace the origin of all things to <emph>number</emph>; for <q>in <emph>numbers</emph> +he thought that they perceived many analogies of things +that exist and are produced, more than in fire, earth, or +water: as, for instance, they thought that a certain condition +of numbers was justice; another, soul and intellect, ... +And moreover, seeing the conditions and ratios of what pertains +to harmony to consist in numbers, since other things +seemed in their entire nature to be formed in the likeness of +numbers, and in all nature numbers are the first, they +supposed the elements of numbers to be the elements of all +things.</q> (Arist. Met. i. 5.) +</p> + +<p> +Music and harmony too, played almost as important a +<pb n='vi'/><anchor id='Pgvi'/> +part in the Pythagorean system as mathematics, or numbers. +His idea appears to be, that order or harmony of relation is +the regulating principle of the whole universe. He drew +out a list of ten pairs of antagonistic elements, and in the +octave and its different harmonic relations, he believed that +he found the ground of the connexion between them. In his +system of the universe <emph>fire</emph> was the important element, occupying +both the centre and the remotest point of it; and +being the vivifying principle of the whole. Round the central +fire the heavenly bodies he believed to move in a regular +circle; furthest off were the fixed stars; and then, in order, +the planets, the moon, the sun, the earth, and what he called +ἀντίχθων, a sort of other half of the earth, which was a distinct +body from it, but moving parallel to it. +</p> + +<p> +The most distant region he called Olympus; the space between +the fixed stars and the moon he called κόσμος; the space +between the moon and the earth οὐρανός. He, or at least +his disciples, taught that the earth revolved on its axis, +(though Philolaus taught that its revolutions were not round +its axis but round the central fire). The universe itself they +considered as a large sphere, and the intervals between the +heavenly bodies they thought were determined according to +the laws and relations of musical harmony. And from this +theory arose the doctrine of the Music of the Spheres; as the +heavenly bodies in their motion occasioned a sort of sound +depending on their distances and velocities; and as these +were determined by the laws of harmonic intervals, the +sounds, or notes, formed a regular musical scale. +</p> + +<p> +The light and heat of the central fire he believed that we +received through the sun, which he considered a kind of +lens: and perfection, he conceived to exist in direct ratio +to the distance from the central fire. +</p> + +<p> +The universe, itself, they looked upon as having subsisted +from all eternity, controlled by an eternal supreme Deity; +who established both limits and infinity; and whom they often +speak of as the absolute μονὰς, or unity. He pervaded (though +he was distinct from) and presided over the universe. Sometimes, +too, he is called the absolute <emph>Good</emph>,—while the origin of +<pb n='vii'/><anchor id='Pgvii'/> +evil is attributed not to him, but to matter which prevented +him from conducting everything to the best end. +</p> + +<p> +With respect to man, the doctrine of Pythagoras was that +known by the name of the Metempsychosis,—that the soul +after death rested a certain time till it was purified, and +had acquired a forgetfulness of what had previously happened +to it; and then reanimated some other body. The +ethics of the Pythagoreans consisted more in ascetic practice +and maxims for the restraint of the passions, than in +any scientific theories. Wisdom they considered as superior +to virtue, as being connected with the contemplation of the +upper and purer regions, while virtue was conversant only +with the sublunary part of the world. Happiness, they +thought, consisted in the science of the perfection of the +soul; or in the perfect science of numbers; and the main +object of all the endeavours of man was to be, to resemble the +Deity as far as possible. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Alcmæon</emph> of Crotona was a pupil of Pythagoras; but that +is all that is known of his history. He was a great natural +philosopher; and is said to have been the first who introduced +the practice of dissection. He is said, also, to have +been the first who wrote on natural philosophy. Aristotle, +however, distinguishes between the principles of Alcmæon +and Pythagoras, though without explaining in what the difference +consisted. He asserted the immortality of the soul, +and said that it partook of the divine nature, because, like +the heavenly bodies themselves, it contained in itself the +principle of motion. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Xenophanes</emph>, the founder of the Eleatic school, was a native +of Colophon; and flourished probably about the time of +Pisistratus. Being banished from his own country, he fled to +the Ionian colonies in Sicily, and at last settled in Elea, or +Velia. His writings were chiefly poetical. He was universally +regarded by the ancients as the originator of the doctrine of the +oneness of the universe: he also maintained, it is said, the unity +of the Deity; and also his immortality and eternity; denounced +the transference of him into human form; and reproached +Homer and Hesiod for attributing to him human weaknesses. +<pb n='viii'/><anchor id='Pgviii'/> +He represented him as endowed with unwearied activity, and +as the animating power of the universe. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Heraclitus</emph> was an Ephesian, and is said to have been a +pupil of Xenophanes, though this statement is much doubted; +others call him a pupil of Hippasus the Pythagorean. He +wrote a treatise on Nature; declaring that the principle of +all things was fire, from which he saw the world was evolved +by a natural operation; he further said that this fire was the +human life and soul, and therefore a rational intelligence +guiding the whole universe. In this primary fire he considered +that there was a perpetual longing to manifest itself +in different forms: in its perfectly pure state it is in heaven; +but in order to gratify this longing it descends, gradually +losing the rapidity of its motion till it settles in the earth. +The earth, however, is not immovable, but only the slowest +of all moving bodies; while the soul of man, though dwelling +in the lowest of all regions, namely, in the earth, he considered +a migrated portion of fire in its pure state; which, in +spite of its descent, had lost none of its original purity. The +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>summum bonum</foreign> +he considered to be a contented acquiescence +in the decrees of the Deity. None of his writings are extant; +and he does not appear to have had many followers. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Diogenes</emph> of Apollonia, (who must not be confounded with +his Stoic or Cynic namesake,) was a pupil of Anaximenes, +and wrote a treatise on Nature, of which Diogenes Laertius +gives the following account: <q>He maintained that air was +the primary element of all things; that there was an infinite +number of worlds and an infinite vacuum; that air condensed +and rarefied produced the different members of the +universe; that nothing was generated from nothing, or resolved +into nothing; that the earth was round, supported in +the centre, having received its shape from the whirling round +it of warm vapours, and its concrete nature and hardness +from cold.</q> He also imputed to air an intellectual energy, +though he did not recognise any difference between mind and +matter. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Parmenides</emph> was a native of Elea or Velia, and flourished +about 460 <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi>, soon after which time he came to Athens, and +<pb n='ix'/><anchor id='Pgix'/> +became acquainted with Socrates, who was then very young. +Theophrastus and Aristotle speak doubtfully of his having +been a pupil of Xenophanes. Some authors, however, reckon +him as one of the Pythagorean school; Plato and Aristotle +speak of him as the greatest of the Eleatics; and it is said +that his fellow-countrymen bound their magistrates every +year to abide by the laws which he had laid down. He, like +Xenophanes, explained his philosophical tenets in a didactic +poem, in which he speaks of two primary forms, one the fine +uniform etherial fire of flame (φλόγος πῦρ), the other the cold +body of night, out of the intermingling of which everything in +the world is formed by the Deity who reigns in the midst. +His cosmogony was carried into minute detail, of which we +possess only a few obscure fragments; he somewhat resembled +the Pythagoreans in believing in a spherical system of the +world, surrounded by a circle of pure light; in the centre of +which was the earth; and between the earth and the light +was the circle of the Milky Way, of the morning and evening +star, of the sun, the planets, and the moon. And the differences +in perfection of organization, he attributed to the +different proportions in which the primary principles were +intermingled. The ultimate principle of the world was, in +his view, necessity, in which Empedocles appears to have +followed him; he seems to have been the only philosopher +who recognised with distinctness and precision that the +Existent, τὸ ὄν, as such, is unconnected with all separation or +juxtaposition, as well as with all succession, all relation to +space or time, all coming into existence, and all change. It +is, however, a mistake to suppose that he recognised it as a +Deity. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Democritus</emph> was born at Abdera, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> +460. His father Hegesistratus +had been so rich as to be able to entertain Xerxes, +when on his march against Greece. He spent his inheritance +in travelling into distant countries, visiting the greater part +of Asia, and, according to some authors, extending his travels +as far as India and Æthiopia. Egypt he certainly was acquainted +with. He lived to beyond the age of 100 years, +and is said to have died <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 357. +</p> + +<pb n='x'/><anchor id='Pgx'/> + +<p> +He was a man of vast and varied learning, and a most +voluminous author, though none of his works have come +down to us;—in them he carried out the theory of atoms +which he had derived from Leucippus; insisting on the reality +of a vacuum and of motion, which he held was the eternal +and necessary consequence of the original variety of atoms in +this vacuum. These atoms, according to this theory, being +in constant motion and impenetrable, offer resistance to one +another, and so create a whirling motion which gives birth to +worlds. Moreover, from this arise combinations of distinct +atoms which become real things and beings. The first cause +of all existence he called <emph>chance</emph> (τύχη), in opposition to the +νοῦς of Anaxagoras. But Democritus went further; for he +directed his investigations especially to the discovery of +causes. +</p> + +<p> +Besides the infinite number of atoms, he likewise supposed +the existence of an infinite number of worlds, each being kept +together by a sort of shell or skin. He derived the four +elements from the form, quality, and proportionate magnitude +of the atoms predominating in each; and in deriving +individual things from atoms, he mainly considered the +qualities of warm and cold; the soul he considered as derived +from fire atoms; and he did not consider mind as +anything peculiar, or as a power distinct from the soul or +sensuous perception; but he considered knowledge derived +from reason to be a sensuous perception. +</p> + +<p> +In his ethical philosophy, he considered (as we may see +from the <hi rend='italic'>de Finibus</hi>) the acquisition of peace of mind as +the end and ultimate object of all our actions, and as the +last and best fruit of philosophical inquiry. Temperance +and moderation in prosperity and adversity were, in his eyes, +the principal means of acquiring this peace of mind. And he +called those men alone pious and beloved by the Gods who +hate whatever is wrong. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Empedocles</emph> was a Sicilian, who flourished about the time +when Thrasydæus, the son of Theron, was expelled from Agrigentum, +to the tyranny of which he had succeeded; in which +revolution he took an active part: it is even said that the +<pb n='xi'/><anchor id='Pgxi'/> +sovereignty of his native city was offered to and declined +by him. +</p> + +<p> +He was a man of great genius and extensive learning; it is +not known whose pupil he was, nor are any of his disciples +mentioned except Gorgias. He was well versed in the tenets +of the Eleatic and Pythagorean schools; but he did not adopt +the fundamental principles of either; though he agreed with +Pythagoras in his belief in the metempsychosis, in the influence +of numbers, and in one or two other points; and with +the Eleatics in disbelieving that anything could be generated +out of nothing. Aristotle speaks of him as very much resembling +in his opinions Democritus and Anaxagoras. He +was the first who established the number of four elements, +which had been previously pointed out one by one, partly +as fundamental substances, and partly as transitive changes +of things coming into existence. He first suggested the idea +of two opposite directions of the moving power, an attractive +and a repelling one: and he believed that originally these +two coexisted in a state of repose and inactivity. He also +assumed a periodical change of the formation of the world; +or perhaps, like the philosophers of the pure Ionic school, a +perpetual continuance of pure fundamental substances; to +which the parts of the world that are tired of change return, +and prepare the formation of the sphere for the next period +of the world. Like the Eleatics, he strove to purify the +notion of the Deity, saying that he, <q>being a holy infinite +spirit, not encumbered with limbs, passes through the world +with rapid thoughts.</q> At the same time he speaks of the +eternal power of Necessity as an ancient decree of the +Gods, though it is not quite clear what he understood by +this term. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Diagoras</emph> was a native of Melos, and a pupil of Democritus, +and flourished about <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 435. He is remarkable as having +been regarded by all antiquity as an Atheist. In his youth +he had some reputation as a lyric poet; so that he is +sometimes classed with Pindar, Simonides, and Bacchylides. +Aristophanes, in the Clouds, alludes to him where he calls +Socrates <q>the Melian;</q> not that he was so, but he means to +<pb n='xii'/><anchor id='Pgxii'/> +hint that Socrates was an atheist as well as the Melian +Diagoras. He lived at Athens for many years till <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 411, +when he fled from a prosecution instituted against him for +impiety, according to Diodorus, but probably for some offence +of a political nature; perhaps connected with the mutilation +of the Hermæ. +</p> + +<p> +That he was an atheist, however, appears to have been +quite untrue. Like Socrates, he took new and peculiar views +respecting the Gods and their worship; and seems to have +ridiculed the honours paid to their statues, and the common +notions which were entertained of their actions and conduct. +(See De Nat. Deor. iii. 37.) He is said also to have attacked +objects held in the greatest veneration at Athens, such as the +Eleusinian Mysteries, and to have dissuaded people from +being initiated into them. He appears also, in his theories +on the divine nature, to have substituted in some degree the +active powers of nature for the activity of the Gods. In his +own conduct he was a man of strict morality and virtue. He +died at Corinth before the end of the century. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Protagoras</emph> was a native of Abdera; the exact time of his +birth is unknown, but he was a little older than Socrates. He +was the first person who gave himself the title of σοφιστὴς, +and taught for pay. He came to Athens early in life, and +gave to the settlers who left it for Thurium, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 445, a +code of laws, or perhaps adapted the old laws of Charondas +to their use. He was a friend of Pericles. After some time +he was impeached for impiety in saying, That respecting the +Gods he did not know whether they existed or not; and +banished from Athens (see De Nat. Deor. i. 23). He was a +very prolific author: his most peculiar doctrines excited +Plato to write the Theætetus to oppose them. +</p> + +<p> +His fundamental principle was, that everything is motion, +and that that is the efficient cause of everything; that nothing +<emph>exists</emph>, but that everything is continually <emph>coming into +existence</emph>. He divided motion (besides numerous subordinate divisions) +into active and passive; though he did not consider either of +these characteristics as permanent. From the concurrence +of two such motions he taught that sensations and perceptions +<pb n='xiii'/><anchor id='Pgxiii'/> +arose, according to the rapidity of the motion. Therefore +he said that there is or exists for each individual, only +that of which he has a sensation or perception; and that as +sensation, like its objects, is engaged in a perpetual change of +motion, opposite assertions might exist according to the difference +of the perception respecting such object. Moral worth +he attributed to taking pleasure in the beautiful; and virtue +he referred to a certain sense of shame implanted in man by +nature; and to a certain conscious feeling of justice, which +secures the bonds of connexion in private and political life. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Socrates</emph>, the son of Sophroniscus, a statuary, and Phænarete, +a midwife, was born <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 468. He lived all his life at Athens, +serving indeed as a soldier at Potidæa, Amphipolis, and in the +battle of Delium; but with these exceptions he never left +the city; where he lived as a teacher of philosophy; not, +however, founding a school or giving lectures, but frequenting +the market-place and all other places of public resort, talking +with every one who chose to address him, and putting questions +to every one of every rank and profession, so that Grote +calls him <q>a public talker for instruction.</q> He believed +himself to have a special religious mission from the Gods to +bring his countrymen to knowledge and virtue. He was at +last impeached before the legal tribunals, on the ground of +<q>corrupting the youth of the city, and not worshipping the +Gods whom the city worshipped;</q> and disdaining to defend +himself, or rather making a justificatory defence of such a +character as to exasperate the judges, he was condemned to +death, and executed by having hemlock administered to him, +<hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 399. +</p> + +<p> +From his disciples Plato and Xenophon we have a very full +account of his habits and doctrines; though it has been much +disputed which of the two is to be considered as giving the +most accurate description of his opinions. As a young +man he had been to a certain extent a pupil of Archelaus +(the disciple of Anaxagoras), and derived his fondness for the +dialectic style of argument from Zeno the Eleatic, the favourite +Pupil of Parmenides. He differed, however, from all preceding +philosophers in discarding and excluding wholly from his +<pb n='xiv'/><anchor id='Pgxiv'/> +studies all the abstruse sciences, and limiting his philosophy +to those practical points which could have influence on +human conduct. <q>He himself was always conversing about +the affairs of men,</q> is the description given of him by Xenophon. +Astronomy he pronounced to be one of the divine +mysteries which it was impossible to understand and madness +to investigate; all that man wanted was to know enough +of the heavenly bodies to serve as an index to the change of +seasons and as guides for voyages, etc.; and that knowledge +might, he said, easily be obtained from pilots and watchmen. +Geometry he reduced to its literal meaning of land-measuring, +useful to enable one to act with judgment in the purchase +or sale of land; but he looked with great contempt on the +study of complicated diagrams and mathematical problems. +As to general natural philosophy, he wholly discarded it; +asking whether those who professed to apply themselves to +that study knew <emph>human</emph> affairs so well as to have time to +spare for <emph>divine</emph>; was it that they thought that they could +influence the winds, rain, and seasons, or did they desire +nothing but the gratification of an idle curiosity? Men should +recollect how much the wisest of them who have attempted +to prosecute these investigations differ from one another, and +how totally opposite and contradictory their opinions are. +</p> + +<p> +Socrates, then, looked at all knowledge from the point +of view of human practice. He first, as Cicero says, +(Tusc. Dis. v. 4,) <q>called philosophy down from heaven and +established it in the cities, introduced it even into private +houses, and compelled it to investigate life, and manners, and +what was good and evil among men.</q> He was the first man +who turned his thoughts and discussions distinctly to the +subject of Ethics. Deeply imbued with sincere religious feeling, +and believing himself to be under the peculiar guidance +of the Gods, who at all times admonished him by a divine +warning voice when he was in danger of doing anything +unwise, inexpedient, or improper, he believed that the Gods +constantly manifested their love of and care for all men in +the most essential manner, in replying through oracles, and +sending them information by sacrificial signs or prodigies, in +<pb n='xv'/><anchor id='Pgxv'/> +cases of great difficulty; and he had no doubt that if a man +were diligent in learning all that the Gods permitted to be +learnt, and if besides he was assiduous in paying pious court +to them and in soliciting special information by way of +prophecy, they would be gracious to him and signify their +purposes to him. +</p> + +<p> +Such then being the capacity of man for wisdom and +virtue, his object was to impart that wisdom to them; and +the first step necessary, he considered to be eradicating one +great fault which was a barrier to all improvement. This +fault he described as <q>the conceit of knowledge without the +reality.</q> His friend and admirer Chærephon had consulted +the oracle at Delphi as to whether any man was wiser than +Socrates; to which the priestess replied that no other man +was wiser. Socrates affirms that he was greatly disturbed at +hearing this declaration from so infallible an authority; till +after conversing with politicians, and orators, and poets, and +men of all classes, he discovered not only that they were +destitute of wisdom, but that they believed themselves to be +possessed of it; so that he was wiser than they, though wholly +ignorant, inasmuch as he was conscious of his own ignorance. +He therefore considered his most important duty to be to +convince men of their ignorance, and to excite them to remedy +it, as the indispensable preliminary to virtue; for virtue he +defined as doing a thing well, after having learnt it and +practised it by the rational and proper means; and whoever +performed his duties best, whether he was a ruler of a state +or a husbandman, was the best and most useful man and the +most beloved by the Gods. +</p> + +<p> +And if his objects were new, his method was no less so. He +was the parent of dialectics and logic. Aristotle says, <q>To +Socrates we may unquestionably assign two novelties—inductive +discourses, and the definitions of general terms.</q> Without +any predecessor to copy, Socrates fell as it were instinctively +into that which Aristotle describes as the double tract of the +dialectic process, breaking up the one into the many, and +recombining the many into the one; though the latter or +synthetical process he did not often perform himself, but +<pb n='xvi'/><anchor id='Pgxvi'/> +strove to stimulate his hearer's mind so as to enable him to +do it for himself. +</p> + +<p> +The fault of the Socratic theory is well remarked by Grote to +be, that while he resolved all virtue into knowledge or wisdom, +and all vice into ignorance or folly, he omitted to notice what +is not less essential to virtue, the proper condition of the passions, +desires, &c., and limited his views too exclusively to the +intellect; still while laying down a theory which is too narrow, +he escaped the erroneous consequences of it by a partial inconsistency. +For no one ever insisted more emphatically on the +necessity of control over the passions and appetites, of enforcing +good habits, and on the value of that state of the +sentiments and emotions which such a course tended to form. +He constantly pointed out that the chief pleasures were such +as inevitably arise from the performance of one's duty, and +that as to happiness, a very moderate degree of good fortune +is sufficient as to external things, provided the internal man +be properly disciplined. +</p> + +<p> +Grote remarks further, (and this remark is particularly +worth remembering in the reading of Cicero's philosophical +works,) that <q>Arcesilaus and the New Academy thought that +they were following the example of Socrates, (and Cicero +appears to have thought so too,) when they reasoned against +everything, and laid it down as a system, that against every +affirmative position an equal force of negative argument +could be brought as a counterpoise: now this view of Socrates +is, in my judgment, not only partial, but incorrect. He entertained +no such doubts of the powers of the mind to attain +certainty. About physics he thought man could know +nothing; but respecting the topics which concern man and +society, this was the field which the Gods had expressly +assigned, not merely to human practice, but to human study +and knowledge; and he thought that every man, not only +might know these things, but ought to know them; that he +could not possibly act well unless he did know them; and +that it was his imperative duty to learn them as he would +learn a profession, otherwise he was nothing better than a +slave, unfit to be trusted as a free and accountable being. He +<pb n='xvii'/><anchor id='Pgxvii'/> +was possessed by the truly Baconian idea, that the power of +steady moral action depended upon, and was limited by, the +rational comprehension of moral ends and means.</q> +</p> + +<p> +The system, then, of Socrates was animated by the truest +spirit of positive science, and formed an indispensable precursor +to its attainment. And we may form some estimate +of his worth and genius if we recollect, that while the +systems and speculations of other ancient philosophers serve +only as curiosities to make us wonder, or as beacons to warn +us into what absurdities the ablest men may fall, the principles +and the system of Socrates and his followers, and of +that school alone, exercise to this day an important influence +on all human argument and speculation. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Aristippus</emph> (whom we will consider before Plato, that +Aristotle may follow Plato more immediately) came when +a young man to Athens, for the express purpose of becoming +acquainted with Socrates, with whom he remained +almost till his death. He was, however, very different from +his master, being a person of most luxurious and sensual +habits. He was also the first of Socrates' disciples who took +money for teaching. He was the founder of the Cyrenaic +school of philosophy, which followed Socrates in limiting all +philosophical inquiries to ethics; though under this name +they comprehended a more varied range of subjects than +Socrates did, inasmuch as one of the parts into which they +divided philosophy, referred to the feelings; another to causes, +which is rather a branch of physics; and a third to proofs, +which is clearly connected with logic. +</p> + +<p> +He pronounced pleasure to be the chief good, and pain the +chief evil; but he denied that either of these was a mere +negative inactive state, considering them, on the contrary, +both to be motions of the soul,—pain a violent, and pleasure +a moderate one. +</p> + +<p> +As to actions, he asserted that they were all morally indifferent, +that men should only look to their results, and that +law and custom are the only authorities which make an +action either good or bad. Whatever conduces to pleasure, +<pb n='xviii'/><anchor id='Pgxviii'/> +he thought virtue; in which he agreed with Socrates that +the mind has the principal share. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Plato</emph>, the greatest of all the disciples of Socrates, was the +son of Ariston and Perictione, and was born probably in the +year <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 428, and descended, on the side of his father, from +Codrus, and on his mother's side related to Solon. At the +age of twenty, he became a constant attendant of Socrates, +and lived at Athens till his death. After this event, in consequence +of the unpopularity of the very name of his master, +he retired to Megara, and subsequently to Sicily. He is said +also to have been at some part of his life, after the death of +Socrates, a great traveller. About twelve years after the +death of Socrates he returned to Athens, and began to teach +in the Academy, partly by dialogue, and partly, probably, by +connected lectures. He taught gratuitously; and besides +Speusippus, Xenocrates, Aristotle, Heraclides Ponticus, and +others, who were devoted solely to philosophical studies, he is +said to have occasionally numbered Chabrias, Iphicrates, +Timotheus, Phocion, Isocrates, and (by some) Demosthenes +among his hearers. He died at a great age, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 347. +</p> + +<p> +His works have come down to us in a more complete form +than those of any other ancient author who was equally +voluminous; and from them we get a clear idea of the +principal doctrines which he inculcated on his followers. +</p> + +<p> +Like Socrates, he was penetrated with the idea, that knowledge +and wisdom were the things most necessary to man, +and the greatest goods assigned to him by God. Wisdom +he looked on as the great purifier of the soul; and as any +approach to wisdom presupposes an original communion with +<emph>Being</emph>, properly so called, this communion also presupposes +the divine nature, and consequent immortality of the soul, +his doctrine respecting which was of a much purer and loftier +character than the usual theology of the ancients. Believing +that the world also had a soul, he considered the human +soul as similar to it in nature, and free from all liability to +death, in spite of its being bound up with the appetites, in +consequence of its connexion with the body, and as preserving +<pb n='xix'/><anchor id='Pgxix'/> +power and consciousness after its separation from the body. +What he believed, however, to be its condition after death is +far less certain, as his ideas on this subject are expressed in a +mythical form. +</p> + +<p> +The chief point, however, to which Plato directed his +attention, was ethics, which, especially in his system, are +closely connected with politics. He devotes the Protagoras, +and several shorter dialogues, to refute the sensual and selfish +theories of some of his predecessors, in order to adopt a more +scientific treatment of the subject; and in these dialogues he +urges that neither happiness nor virtue are attainable by the +indulgence of our desires, but that men must bring these into +proper restraint, if they are desirous of either. He supposes +an inward harmony, the preservation of which is pleasure, +while its disturbance is pain; and as pleasure is always dependent +on the activity from which it springs, the more this +activity is elevated the purer the pleasure becomes. +</p> + +<p> +Virtue he considered the fitness of the soul for the operations +that are proper to it; and it manifests itself by means +of its inward harmony, beauty, and health. Different phases +of virtue are distinguishable so far as the soul is not pure +spirit, but just as the spirit should rule both the other +elements of the soul, so also should wisdom, as the inner +development of the spirit, rule the other virtues. +</p> + +<p> +Politics he considered an inseparable part of ethics, and +the state as the copy of a well-regulated individual life: from +the three different activities of the soul he deduced the three +main elements of the state, likening the working class to the +appetitive element of the soul, both of which equally require +to be kept under control; the military order, which answered, +in his idea, to the emotive element, ought to develop itself in +thorough dependence on the reason; and from that the +governing order, answering to the rational faculty, must proceed. +The right of passing from a subordinate to a dominant +position must depend on the individual capacity and ability +for raising itself. But from the difficulties of realizing his +theories, he renounces this absolute separation of ranks in his +book on Laws, limits the power of the governors, attempts to +<pb n='xx'/><anchor id='Pgxx'/> +reconcile freedom with unity and reason, and to mingle +monarchy with democracy. +</p> + +<p> +With respect to his theology, he appears to have agreed +entirely with Socrates. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Aristotle</emph> was born at Stageira, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 384. His +father, Nicomachus, was physician to Amyntas II., king of Macedon. +At the age of seventeen he went to Athens, in hopes to +become a pupil of Plato; but Plato was in Sicily, and did not +return for three years, which time Aristotle applied to severe +study, and to cultivating the friendship of Heraclides Ponticus. +When Plato returned, he soon distinguished him above +all his other pupils. He remained at Athens twenty years, +maintaining, however, his connexion with Macedonia; but +on the death of Plato, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 347, which happened while Aristotle +was absent in Macedonia on an embassy, he quitted +Athens, thinking, perhaps, that travelling was necessary to +complete his education. After a short period, he accepted an +invitation from Philip to superintend the education of Alexander. +He remained in Macedonia till <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 335, when he +returned to Athens, where he found Xenocrates had succeeded +Speusippus as the head of the Academy. Here the +Lyceum was appropriated to him, in the shady walks (περίπατοι) +of which he delivered his lectures to a number of +eminent scholars who flocked around him. From these walks +the name of Peripatetic was given to the School which he +subsequently established. Like several others of the Greek +philosophers, he had a select body of pupils, to whom he delivered +his esoteric doctrines; and a larger, more promiscuous, +and less accomplished company, to whom he delivered his +exoteric lectures on less abstruse subjects. When he had +resided thirteen years at Athens, he found himself threatened +with a prosecution for impiety, and fled to Chalcis, in Eubœa, +and died soon after, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 322. +</p> + +<p> +His learning was immense, and his most voluminous +writings embraced almost every subject conceivable; but +only a very small portion of them has come down to us. +Cicero, however, alludes to him only as a moral philosopher, +and occasionally as a natural historian; so that it may be +<pb n='xxi'/><anchor id='Pgxxi'/> +sufficient here for us to confine our view of him to his teaching +on the Practical Sciences; his Ethics, too, being one of +his works which has come down to us entire. +</p> + +<p> +God he considered to be the highest and purest energy of +eternal intellect,—an absolute principle,—the highest reason, +the object of whose thought is himself; expanding and declaring, +in a more profound manner, the νοῦς of Anaxagoras. +With respect to man, the object of all action, he taught, was +happiness: and this happiness he defines to be an energy of +the soul (or of life) according to virtue, existing by and for +itself. Virtue, again, he subdivided into moral and intellectual, +according to the distinction between the reasoning +faculty and that quality in the soul which obeys reason. +Again, moral virtue is the proper medium between excess +and deficiency, and can only be acquired by practice; intellectual +virtue can be taught; and by the constant practice of +moral virtue a man becomes virtuous, but he can only practise +it by a resolute determination to do so. Virtue, therefore, +is defined further as a habit accompanied by, or arising +out of, deliberate choice, and based upon free and conscious +action. From these principles, Aristotle is led to take a +wider view of virtue than other philosophers: he includes +friendship under this head, as one of the very greatest virtues, +and a principal means for a steady continuance in all +virtue; and as the unrestricted exercise of each species of +activity directed towards the good, produces a feeling of +pleasure, he considers pleasure as a very powerful means +of virtue. +</p> + +<p> +Connected with Aristotle's system of ethics was his system +of politics, the former being only a part, as it were, of the +latter; the former aiming at the happiness of individuals, the +latter at that of communities; so that the latter is the perfection +and completion of the former. For Aristotle looked +upon man as a <q>political animal</q>—as a being, that is, created +by nature for the state, and for living in the state; which, as +a totality consisting of organically connected members, is by +nature prior to the individual or the family. The state he +looked upon as a whole consisting of mutually dependent and +<pb n='xxii'/><anchor id='Pgxxii'/> +connected members, with reference as well to imaginary as to +actually existing constitutions. The constitution is the arrangement +of the powers in the state—the soul of the state, +as it were,—according to which the sovereignty is determined. +The laws are the determining principles, according +to which the dominant body governs and restrains those who +would, and punishes those who do, transgress them. He +defines three kinds of constitutions, each of them having a +corresponding perversion:—a republic, arising from the principle +of equality; this at times degenerates into democracy; +monarchy, and aristocracy, which arise from principles of +inequality, founded on the preponderance of external or internal +strength and wealth, and which are apt to degenerate +into tyranny and oligarchy. The education of youth he considers +as a principal concern of the state, in order that, all +the individual citizens being trained to a virtuous life, virtue +may become predominant in all the spheres of political life; +and, accordingly, by means of politics the object is realized of +which ethics are the groundwork, namely, human happiness, +depending on a life in accordance with virtue. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Heraclides</emph> Ponticus, as he is usually called, was, as his +name denotes, a native of Pontus. He migrated to Athens, +where he became a disciple of Plato, who, while absent in +Sicily, entrusted him with the care of his school. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Speusippus</emph> was the nephew of Plato, and succeeded him as +President of the Academy; but he continued so but a short +time, and, within eight years of the death of Plato, he died at +Athens, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 339. He refused to recognise <emph>the Good</emph> +as the ultimate principle; but, going back to the older theologians, +maintained that the origin of the universe was to be set +down indeed as a cause of the Good and Perfect, but was not +the Good and Perfect itself; for that was the result of generated +existence or development, just as plants are of the +seeds. When, with the Pythagoreans, he reckoned <emph>the One</emph> in +the series of good things, he probably thought of it only in +opposition to <emph>the Manifold</emph>, and wished to point out that it is +from <emph>the One</emph> that <emph>the Good</emph> is to be derived. He appears, +however, (see De Nat. Deor. i. 13,) to have attributed vital +<pb n='xxiii'/><anchor id='Pgxxiii'/> +activity to the primordial unity, as inseparably belonging +to it. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Theophrastus</emph> was a native of Eresus, from whence he +migrated to Athens, where he became a follower of Plato, and +afterwards of Aristotle, by whom, when he quitted Athens for +Chalcis, he was designated as his successor in the presidency +of the Lyceum; while in this position, he is said to have had +two thousand disciples, and among them the comic poet +Menander. When, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 305, the philosophers were banished +from Athens, he also left the city, but returned the next year +on the repeal of the law. He lived to a great age, though +the date of his birth is not certainly known. +</p> + +<p> +He was a very voluminous writer on many subjects, but +directed his chief attention to continuing the researches into +natural history which had been begun by Aristotle. As, +however, only a few fragments of his works have come +down to us, and these in a very corrupt state, we know but +little what peculiar views he entertained; though we learn +from Cicero (De Inv. i. 42-50) that he departed a good deal +from the doctrines of Aristotle in his principles of ethics, and +also in his metaphysical and theological speculations; and +Cicero (De Nat. Deor. i. 13) complains that he did not express +himself with precision or with consistency about the +Deity; and in other places (Acad. i. 10, Tusc. Quæst. v. 9), +that he appeared unable to comprehend a happiness resting +merely on virtue; so that he had attributed to virtue a rank +very inferior to its deserts. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Xenocrates</emph> was a native of Chalcedon, born probably +<hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 396. He was a follower of Plato, and accompanied him +to Sicily. After his death, he betook himself, with Aristotle, +to the court of Hermias, tyrant of Ptarneus, but soon returned +to Athens, and became president of the Academy +when Speusippus, through ill health, was forced to abandon +that post. He died <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 314. +</p> + +<p> +He was not a man of great genius, but of unwearied industry +and the purest virtue and integrity. None of his +works have come down to us; but, from the notices of other +writers, we are acquainted with some of his peculiar doctrines. +<pb n='xxiv'/><anchor id='Pgxxiv'/> +He stood at the head of those who, regarding the universe as +imperishable and existing from eternity, looked upon the +chronic succession in the theory of Plato as a form in which +to denote the relations of conceptual succession. He asserted +that the soul was a self-moving member,—called Unity and +Duality deities, considering the former as the first male +existence, ruling in heaven, father and Jupiter; the latter as +the female, as the mother of the Gods, and the soul of the +universe, which reigns over the mutable world under heaven. +He approximated to the Pythagoreans in considering Number +as the principle of consciousness, and consequently of knowledge; +supplying, however, what was deficient in the Pythagorean +theory by the definition of Plato, that it is only in as +far as number reconciles the opposition between <emph>the same</emph> and +the different, and can raise itself to independent motion, that +it is soul. +</p> + +<p> +In his ethics he endeavoured to render the Platonic +theory more complete, and to give it a more direct applicability +to human life; admitting, besides the good and the +bad, of something which is neither good nor bad, and some of +these intermediate things, such as health, beauty, fame, good +fortune, he would not admit to be absolutely worthless and +indifferent. He maintained, however, in the most decided +manner, that virtue is the only thing valuable in itself, and +that the value of everything else is conditional, (see Cic. de +Fin. iv. 18, de Leg. i. 21, Acad. i. 6, Tusc. Quæst. v. 10-18,) +that happiness ought to coincide with the consciousness of +virtue. He did not allow that mere intellectual scientific +wisdom was the only true wisdom to be sought after as such +by men: and in one point he came nearer the precepts of +Christianity than any of the ancients, when he asserted the +indispensableness of the morality of the thoughts to virtue, +and declared it to be the same thing, whether a person cast +longing eyes on the possessions of his neighbour, or attempted +to possess himself of them by force. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Antisthenes</emph> was older than Plato; though the exact time +of his birth is uncertain: but he fought at the battle of +Tanagra, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 420, though then very young. He became a +<pb n='xxv'/><anchor id='Pgxxv'/> +disciple of Gorgias, and afterwards of Socrates, at whose death +he set up a school in the Cynosarges, a gymnasium for the +use of Athenians born of foreign mothers, near the temple of +Hercules, from which place of assembly his followers were +called Cynics. He lived to a great age, though the year of +his death is not known, but he certainly was alive after the +battle of Leuctra, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 371. +</p> + +<p> +In his philosophical system, which was almost confined to +ethics, he appears to have aimed at novelty rather than truth +or common sense. He taught that in all that the wise man +does he conforms to perfect virtue, and that pleasure is so far +from being necessary to man, that it is a positive evil. He is +reported also to have gone the length of pronouncing pain and +infamy blessings rather than evils, though when he spoke of +pleasure as worthless, he probably meant that pleasure which +arises from the gratification of sensual or artificial desires; +for he praised that which arises from the intellect, and from +friendship. The <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>summum bonum</foreign> +he placed in a life according to virtue. +</p> + +<p> +In a treatise in which he discussed the nature of the Gods +he contended for the unity of the Deity, and asserted that +man is unable to know him by any sensible representation, +since he is unlike any being on earth; and demonstrated the +sufficiency of virtue for happiness, by the doctrine that outward +events are regulated by God so as to benefit the wise +and good. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Diogenes</emph>, a native of Sinope in Pontus, who was born +<hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> +412, was one of his few disciples; he came at an early age to +Athens, and became notorious for the most frantic excesses of +moroseness and self-denial. On a voyage to Ægina he was +taken by pirates and sold as a slave to Xeniades, a Corinthian, +over whom he acquired great influence, and was made +tutor to his children. His system consisted merely in teaching +men to dispense with even the simplest necessaries of +civilized life: and he is said to have taught that all minds are +air, exactly alike, and composed of similar particles; but that +in beasts and in idiots they are hindered from properly +developing themselves by various humors and incapacities +<pb n='xxvi'/><anchor id='Pgxxvi'/> +of their bodies. He died <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 323, the same year that Epicurus +came to Athens. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Zeno</emph> was born at Citium, a city of Cyprus; but having +been shipwrecked near Cyprus, he settled in that city, where +he devoted himself to severe study for a great length of time, +cultivating, it is said, the acquaintance of the philosophers of +the Megaric school, Diodorus and Philo, and of the Academics, +Xenocrates and Polemo. After he had completed his studies, +he opened a school himself in the porch, adorned with the +paintings of Polygnotus (Στοὰ ποικίλη), from which his followers +were called Stoics. The times of his birth and of his +death are not known with any exactness; but he is said to +have reached a great age. +</p> + +<p> +In speaking of the Stoic doctrines, it is not very clear how +much of them proceeded from Zeno himself, and how much +from Chrysippus and other eminent men of the school in subsequent +years. In natural philosophy he considered that +there was a primary matter which was never increased or +diminished, and which was the foundation of everything which +existed: and which was brought into existence by the operative +power,—that is, by the Deity. He saw this operative +power in fire and in æther as the basis of all vital activity, +(see Cic. Acad. i. 11, ii. 41; de Nat. Deor. ii. 9, iii. 14,) +and he taught that the universe comes into being when the +primary substance passing from fire through the intermediate +stage of air becomes liquefied, and then the thick portion becomes +earth, the thinner portion air, which is again rarefied +till it becomes fire. This fire he conceived to be identical +with the Deity, (Cic. de Nat. Deor. ii. 22,) and to be endowed +with consciousness and foresight. At other times he defined +the Deity as that law of nature which ever accomplishes what +is right, and prevents the opposite, and identified it with +unconditional necessity. The soul of man he considered as +being of the nature of fire, or of a warm breath, (Cic. Tusc. +Quæst. i. 9; de Nat. Deor. iii. 4,) and therefore as mortal. +</p> + +<p> +In ethics he agreed with the Cynics in recognising the constitutional +nature of moral obligations, though he differed from +them with respect to things indifferent, and opposed their +<pb n='xxvii'/><anchor id='Pgxxvii'/> +morose contempt for custom, though he did not allow that +the gratification of mere external wants, or that external +good fortune, had any intrinsic value. He comprised everything +which could make life happy in virtue alone (Cic. +Acad. i. 10), and called it the only good which deserved to +be striven after and praised for its own sake (Cic. de Fin. +iii. 6, 8), and taught that the attainment of it must inevitably +produce happiness. But as virtue could, according to his +system, only subsist in conjunction with the perfect dominion +of reason, and vice only in the renunciation of the authority +of reason, he inferred that one good action could not be more +virtuous than another, and that a person who had one virtue +had all, and that he who was destitute of one was destitute +of all. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Cleanthes</emph> was born at Assos in the +Troas, about 300 <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi>; +he came to Athens at an early age, and became the pupil of +Zeno, whom at his death he succeeded in his school. He differed +from his master in regarding the soul as immortal, and +approximated to the Cynics in denying that pleasure was +agreeable to nature, or in any respect good. He died of +voluntary starvation at the age of eighty. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Chrysippus</emph> was born <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> +280, at Soli in Cilicia. He came +at an early age to Athens, and became a pupil of Cleanthes; +and among the later Stoics he was more regarded than either +Zeno or Cleanthes. He died <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 207. +</p> + +<p> +His doctrines do not appear to have differed from those of +Zeno; only that, from feeling the dangerous influence of the +Epicurean principles, he endeavoured to popularize the Stoic +ethics. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Epicurus</emph> was an Athenian of the Attic demos Gargettus, +whence he is sometimes simply called the Gargettian. He +was, however, born at Samos, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 342, and did not come to +Athens till the age of eighteen, when he found Xenocrates at +the head of the Academy, and by some authors is said to have +become his pupil, though he himself would not admit it +(Cic. de Nat. Deor. i. 26). At the outbreak of the Samian war +he crossed over to Colophon, where he collected a school. It +is said that the first thing that excited him to the study of +<pb n='xxviii'/><anchor id='Pgxxviii'/> +philosophy was the perusal of the works of Democritus while +he resided at Colophon. From thence he went to Mitylene +and Lampsacus, and <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 306 he returned to Athens, and +finally established himself as a teacher of philosophy. His +own life was that of a man of simple, pure, and temperate +habits. He died of the stone, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 270, and left Hermarchus of +Mitylene as his successor in the management of his school. +</p> + +<p> +None of his works have come down to us. With regard to +his philosophical system, in spite of his boast of being self-taught +and having borrowed from no one, he clearly derived +the chief part of his natural philosophy from Democritus, +and of his moral philosophy from Aristippus and the Cyrenaics. +He considered human happiness the end of all philosophy, +and agreed with the Cyrenaics that pleasure constituted +the greatest happiness; still this theory in his hands +acquired a far loftier character; for pleasure, in his idea, was +not a mere momentary and transitory sensation, but something +lasting and imperishable, consisting in pure mental +enjoyments, and in the freedom from pain and any other influence +which could disturb man's peace of mind. And the +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>summum bonum</foreign>, +according to him, consisted in this peace of +mind; which was based upon correct wisdom (φρόνησις). +</p> + +<p> +In his natural philosophy he embraced the atomic theories +of Democritus and Diagoras, carrying them even further than +they themselves had done, to such a degree that he drew upon +himself the reproach of Atheism. He regarded the Gods +themselves as consisting of atoms, and our notions of them as +based upon the images (εἴδωλα) which are reflected from them, +and so pass into our minds. And he believed that they +exercised no influence whatever on the world, or on the +actions or fortunes of man. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Theodorus</emph> was a native of Cyrene, who flourished about +<hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 320. He was of the Cyrenaic sect, and the founder of that +branch of it which was called after him, the Theodorean; +though we scarcely know in what his doctrines differed from +those of Aristippus, unless they were, if possible, of a still +more lax character. He taught, for instance, that there was +nothing really wrong or disgraceful in theft, adultery, or +<pb n='xxix'/><anchor id='Pgxxix'/> +sacrilege; but that they were branded by public opinion to +restrain fools. He is also reproved with utter atheism; and +Cicero classes him with Diagoras, as a man who utterly denied +the existence of any Gods at all. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Pyrrho</emph> was a contemporary of Alexander the Great, whose +expedition into Asia he joined. He appears, as far as his +philosophy went, to have been an universal sceptic. He impeached, +however, none of the chief principles of morality, +but, regarding Socrates as his model, directed all his endeavours +towards the production in his pupils of a firm well-regulated +moral character. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Crantor</emph> was a native of Soli in Cilicia; we do not know +when he was born or when he died, but he came to Athens +before <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 315. He was the first of Plato's followers who +wrote commentaries on the works of his master. He died of +dropsy, and left Arcesilaus his heir. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Arcesilaus</emph>, or <emph>Arcesilas</emph>, +flourished about <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 280; he was +born at Pitane, but came to Athens and became the pupil of +Theophrastus and of Crantor, and afterwards of some of the +more sceptical philosophers. On the death of Crantor he succeeded +to the chair of the Academy, in the doctrines of which +he made so many innovations that he is called the founder of +the New Academy. What his peculiar views were is, however, +a matter of great uncertainty. Some give him the credit of +having restored the doctrines of Plato in an uncorrupted +form; while, according to Cicero, on the other hand, (Acad. +i. 12,) he summed up all his opinions in the statement that +he knew nothing, not even his own ignorance. He, and the +New Academy, do not, however, seem to have doubted the +existence of truth in itself, but only the capacity of man for +arriving at the knowledge of it. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Carneades</emph> was born at Cyrene about <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 213. He +went early to Athens, and at first attended the lectures of the +Stoics; but subsequently attached himself to the Academy, +and succeeded to the chair on the death of Hegesinus. In +the year <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 155, he came to Rome on an embassy, but so +offended Cato by speaking one day in praise of justice as +a virtue, and the next day, in answer to all his previous arguments, +<pb n='xxx'/><anchor id='Pgxxx'/> +that he made a motion in the senate, that he should be +ordered to depart from Rome. He died <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 129. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Philo</emph> of Larissa, who is often mentioned by Cicero, was +his own master, having removed to Rome after the conquest +of Athens by Mithridates, where he settled as a teacher of +philosophy and rhetoric. He would not admit that there was +any difference between the Old and New Academy, in which +he differed from his pupil Antiochus. The exact time of his +birth or death is not known; but he was not living when +Cicero composed his Academics. (ii. 6.) +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Antiochus</emph> of Ascalon has been called by some writers the +founder of the Fifth Academy; he also was a teacher of +Cicero during the time he studied at Athens; he had also +a school at Alexandria, and another in Syria, where he died. +He studied under Philo, but was so far from agreeing with +him that he wrote a treatise on purpose to refute what he considered +as the scepticism of the Academics. And undoubtedly +the later philosophers of that school had exaggerated the +teaching of Plato, that the senses were not in all cases trustworthy +organs of perception, so as to infer from it a denial +of the certainty of any knowledge whatever. Antiochus professed +that his object was to revive the real doctrines of Plato +in opposition to the modern scepticism of Carneades and +Philo. He appears to have considered himself as an eclectic +philosopher, combining the best parts of the doctrines of the +Academic, Peripatetic, and Stoic schools. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Diodorus</emph> of Tyre flourished about +<hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 110. He lived at +Athens, where he succeeded Critolaus as the head of the Peripatetic +school. Cicero, however, denies that he was a genuine +Peripatetic, and says that his doctrine that the +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>summum bonum</foreign> +consisted in a combination of virtue with the absence +of pain was an attempt to reconcile the theory of the Stoics +with that of the Epicureans. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Panætius</emph> was a native of Rhodes; his exact age is not +known, but he was a contemporary of Scipio Æmilianus, who +died <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 129. He went to Athens at an early age, where he +is said to have been a pupil of Diogenes of Babylon and +Antipater of Tarsus, and also of Polemo Periegetes. He +<pb n='xxxi'/><anchor id='Pgxxxi'/> +became associated with P. Scipio Æmilianus, who valued him +highly. The latter part of his life he spent at Athens, where +he had succeeded Antipater as head of the Stoic school. He +was the author of a treatise on <q>What is Becoming,</q> which +Cicero professes to have imitated, though carried rather further, +in his De Officiis. He softened down the harsher features of +the Stoic doctrines, approximating them in some degree to +the opinions of Xenocrates, Plato, and Aristotle, and made +them attractive by the elegance of his style; indeed, he +modified the principles of the school so much, that some +writers called him a Platonist. In natural philosophy he +abandoned the Stoic doctrine of the conflagration of the +world; endeavoured to simplify the division of the faculties +of the soul; and doubted the reality of the science of divination. +In ethics he followed the method of Aristotle; and, in +direct opposition to the earlier Stoics, vindicated the claim of +certain pleasurable sensations to be regarded as in accordance +with nature. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Polemo</emph> was a pupil of Xenocrates, and succeeded him as +the head of his school. There is a story that he had been a +very dissolute young man, and that one day, at the head of +a band of revellers, he burst into the school of Xenocrates, +when his attention was so arrested by the discourse of the +philosopher, which happened to be on the subject of temperance, +that he tore off his festive garland, remained till the +end of the lecture, and devoted himself to philosophy all the +rest of his life. He does not appear to have varied at all from +the doctrines of his master. He died <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 273. +</p> + +<p> +<emph>Archytas</emph> was a native of Tarentum: his age is not quite +certain, but he is believed to have been a contemporary of +Plato, and he is even said to have saved his life by his +interest with the tyrant Dionysius. He was a great general +and statesman, as well as a philosopher. In philosophy he +was a Pythagorean; and, like most of that school, a great +mathematician; and applied his favourite science not only to +music, but also to metaphysics. Aristotle is believed to have +borrowed from him his System of Categories. +</p> + +<pb n='xxxii'/><anchor id='Pgxxxii'/> + +<p> +The limits of this volume forbid more than the preceding +very brief sketch of the chiefs of the ancient philosophy. +For a more detailed account the reader is referred to the +Biographical Dictionary edited by Dr. Smith, from which +valuable work much of this sketch has been derived. The account +of Socrates has been principally derived from Mr. Grote's +admirable history of Greece: in which attention has so successfully +been devoted to the history of philosophy and the +sophists, that a correct idea of the subject can hardly be +acquired without a careful study of that work. +</p> + +<p> +It was intended to subjoin a comparison of the systems of +the different sects, but it would take more space than can be +spared; and it is moreover unnecessary, as, the distinctive +tenets of each having been explained, the reader is supplied +with sufficient materials to institute such a comparison for +himself. He will not wonder that men without the guidance +of revelation should at times have lost their way in speculations +beyond the reach of human faculties, but will the more +admire that genius and virtue which manifested itself in such +men as Socrates, Plato, and Cicero, for the perpetual enlightenment +of the human race. +</p> + +</div> + +<pb n='001'/><anchor id='Pg001'/> + +<div rend='page-break-before: always'> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>Introduction.</head> + +<p> +The following account of the two Books of the Academics +is extracted from the Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography, +edited by Dr. W. Smith:— +</p> + +<p> +<q rend='pre'>The history of this work, before it finally quitted the +hands of its author, is exceedingly curious and somewhat +obscure; but must be clearly understood before we can +explain the relative position of those portions of it which +have been transmitted to modern times. By comparing +carefully a series of letters written to Atticus, in the course +of <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 45 (Ep. ad Att. xiii. 32;<note place='foot'><p>The +following are the most important of the passages referred to:—<q rend='pre'>Since +I entered upon these philosophical inquiries, Varro has given +me notice of a valuable and honourable dedication of a work of his to +me.... In the mean time I have been preparing myself as he desired +to make him a return.</q> +</p> +<p> +αὐτῷ τῷ μέτρῳ καὶ λῶιον αἴκε δύνωμαι. +</p> +<p> +<q>I may as well, therefore, remove from my Academical Disputations the +present speakers, who are distinguished characters indeed, but by no +means philosophical, and who discourse with too much subtlety, and +substitute Varro in their place. For these are the opinions of Antiochus, +to which he is much attached. I can find a place for Catulus and +Lucullus elsewhere.</q>—Ep. 12. +</p> +<p> +<q>The Catulus and Lucullus I imagine you have had before; but I +have made new introductions to these books which I wish you to have, +containing an eulogium upon each of these persons, and there are some +other additions.</q>—Ep. 32. +</p> +<p> +<q>In consequence of the letter which you wrote to me about Varro, +I have taken the Academy entirely out of the hands of those distinguished +persons, and transferred it to our friend. And from two books +I have made it into four. These are longer than the others were, +though there are several parts left out.... In truth, if my self-love +does not deceive me, these books have come out in such a manner that +there is nothing of the same kind like them even in Greek.</q>—Ep. 13. +</p> +<p> +<q>I have transferred the whole of that Academical Treatise to Varro. +It had at first been divided among Catulus, Lucullus, and Hortensius. +Afterwards, as this appeared unsuitable, owing to those persons being, +not indeed unlearned, but notoriously unversed in such subjects, as soon +as I got home I transferred those dialogues to Cato and Brutus. Your +letter about Varro has just reached me, and there is no one by whom +the opinions of Antiochus could be more fitly supported.</q>—Ep. 16. +</p> +<p> +<q rend='pre'>I had determined to include no living persons in my dialogues; +but since you inform me that Varro is desirous of it, and sets a great +value upon it, I have composed this work, and completed the whole +Academical Discussion in four books; I know not how well, but with +such care that nothing can exceed it. In these, what had been excellently +collected by Antiochus against the doctrine of incomprehensibility, +I have attributed to Varro; to this I reply in my own person, +and you are the third in our conversation. If I had made Cotta and +Varro disputing with one another, as you suggest in your last letter, my +own would have been a mute character....</q> +</p> +<p> +<q>The Academics, as you know, I had discussed in the persons of +Catulus, Lucullus, and Hortensius; but in truth the subject did not suit +their characters, being more logical than what they could be supposed +ever to have dreamt of. Therefore, when I read your letter to Varro, +I seized on it as a sort of inspiration. Nothing could be more adapted +to that species of philosophy in which he seems to take particular +delight; or to the support of such a part that I could manage to avoid +making my own sentiments predominant. For the opinions of Antiochus +are extremely persuasive, and are so carefully expressed as to +retain the acuteness of Antiochus with my own brilliancy of language, +if indeed I possess any.</q>—Ep. 19. +</p> +<p> +The Antiochus mentioned above was a native of Ascalon, and the +founder of the fifth Academy; he had been the teacher of Cicero while +he studied at Athens; and he had also a school in Syria and another in +Alexandria. Cicero constantly speaks of him with great regard and +esteem. The leaders of the Academy since the time of Plato, (and +Cicero ranks even him among those philosophers who denied the certainty +of any kind of knowledge,) had gradually fallen into a degree of +scepticism that seemed to strike at the root of all truth, theoretical and +practical. But Antiochus professed to revive the doctrines of the old +Academy, maintaining, in opposition to Carneades and Philo, that the +intellect had in itself a test by which it could distinguish between what +was real and what existed only in the imagination. He himself appears +to have held doctrines very nearly coinciding with those of Aristotle; +agreeing however so far with the Stoics as to insist that all emotions +ought to be suppressed. So that Cicero almost inclines to class him +among the Stoics; though it appears that he considered himself as an +Eclectic philosopher, uniting the doctrines of the Stoics and Academics +so as to revive the old Academy.</p></note> 12, 13, 14, 16, 18, 19, 21, +<pb n='002'/><anchor id='Pg002'/> +22, 23, 25, 35, 44), we find that Cicero had drawn up a +treatise upon the Academic Philosophy, in the form of a +dialogue between Catulus, Lucullus, and Hortensius; and +<pb n='003'/><anchor id='Pg003'/> +that it was comprised in two books, the first bearing the +name of Catulus, the second that of Lucullus. A copy was +sent to Atticus; and, soon after it reached him, two new +Introductions were composed, the one in praise of Catulus, +the other in praise of Lucullus. Scarcely had this been done, +when Cicero, from a conviction that Catulus, Lucullus, and +Hortensius, although men of highly cultivated minds, and +well acquainted with general literature, were known to have +been little conversant with the subtle arguments of abstruse +philosophy, determined to withdraw them altogether, and +accordingly substituted Cato and Brutus in their place. Immediately +after this change had been introduced, he received +a communication from Atticus, representing that Varro was +much offended by being passed over in the discussion of +topics in which he was so deeply versed. Thereupon Cicero, +catching eagerly at the idea thus suggested, resolved to recast +the whole piece, and quickly produced, under the old +title, a new and highly improved edition, divided into four +books instead of two, dedicating the whole to Varro, to whom +was assigned the task of defending the tenets of Antiochus; +while Cicero himself undertook to support the views of Philo, +Atticus also taking a share in the conversation.</q> +</p> + +<p> +<q rend='pre'>But, although these alterations had been effected with +extreme rapidity, the copy originally sent to Atticus had in +the meantime been repeatedly transcribed; hence both editions +passed into circulation, and a part of each has been preserved. +One section, containing twelve chapters, is a short +fragment of the second or Varronian edition. The other, +containing forty-nine chapters, is the entire second book of +the first edition; to which is prefixed the new introduction, +together with the proper title of Lucullus. The scene of the +<hi rend='italic'>Catulus</hi> was the villa of that statesman, at Cumæ; while the +<hi rend='italic'>Lucullus</hi> is supposed to have been held at the mansion of +Hortensius, near Bauli.</q> +</p> + +<p> +<q>The object proposed was to give an account of the rise and +progress of the Academic Philosophy, to point out the various +modifications introduced by successive professors, and to +demonstrate the superiority of the principles of the New +Academy, as taught by Philo, over those of the old, as advocated +by Antiochus.</q> +</p> + +</div> + +<pb n='004'/><anchor id='Pg004'/> + +<div rend='page-break-before: always'> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>First Book Of The Academic Questions.</head> + +<p> +I. When a short time ago my friend Atticus<note place='foot'>Titus +Pomponius Atticus was three years older than Cicero, with +whom he had been educated, and with whom he always continued on +terms of the greatest intimacy; his daughter was married to Agrippa. +He was of the Epicurean school in philosophy. He died <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> +32.</note> was with me +at my villa in the district of Cumæ, news was sent us by +Marcus<note place='foot'><p>Marcus Terentius +Varro was ten years older than Cicero, and a man +of the most extensive and profound learning. He had held a naval command +against the pirates, and against Mithridates, and served as lieutenant +to Pompey in Spain, at the beginning of the civil war, adhering +to his party till after the battle of Pharsalia, when he was pardoned, +and taken into favour by Cæsar. He was proscribed by the second +triumvirate, but escaped, and died <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> +28. He was a very voluminous +author, and according to his own account composed four hundred and +ninety books; but only one, the three books De Re Rusticâ, have come +down to us, and a portion of a large treatise De Linguâ Latinâ. +</p> +<p> +In philosophy he had been a pupil of Antiochus, and attached himself +to the Academy with something of a leaning to the Stoics.</p></note> +Varro, that he had arrived in Rome the day before +in the evening, and that if he had not found himself too tired +after his journey he should have proceeded at once to see us. +But when we heard this, we thought that we ought not to +suffer anything to delay our seeing a man so intimately connected +with us by an identity of studies, and by a very long +standing intimacy and friendship. And so we set out at once +to go to see him; and when we were no great distance from +his villa we saw him coming towards us; and when we had +embraced him, as the manner of friends is, after some time we +accompanied him back to his villa. And as I was asking a +few questions, and inquiring what was the news at Rome, +Never mind those things, said Atticus, which we can neither +inquire about nor hear of without vexation, but ask him +rather whether he has written anything new; for the muse of +Varro has been silent much longer than usual; though I +rather suppose he is suppressing for a time what he has +written, than that he has been really idle. You are quite +wrong, said he; for I think it very foolish conduct in a man +to write what he wishes to have concealed. But I have a +<pb n='005'/><anchor id='Pg005'/> +great work on hand; for I have been a long time preparing a +treatise which I have dedicated to my friend here, (he meant +me,) which is of great importance, and is being polished up +by me with a good deal of care. +</p> + +<p> +I have been waiting to see it a long time, Varro, said I, +but still I have not ventured to ask for it. For I heard +from our friend Libo, with whose zeal you are well acquainted, +(for I can never conceal anything of that kind,) that you have +not been slackening in the business, but are expending a +great deal of care on it, and in fact never put it out of your +hands. But it has never hitherto come into my mind to ask +you about it; however now, since I have begun to commit to +a durable record those things which I learnt in your company, +and to illustrate in the Latin language that ancient +philosophy which originated with Socrates, I must ask you +why it is that, while you write on so many subjects, you pass +over this one, especially when you yourself are very eminent +in it; and when that study, and indeed the whole subject, is +far superior in importance to all other studies and arts. +</p> + +<p> +II. You are asking me, he replied, about a matter on +which I have often deliberated and frequently revolved in my +mind. And, therefore, I will answer you without any hesitation; +still, however, speaking quite off-hand, because I have, +as I said just now, thought over the subject both deeply and +frequently. For as I saw that philosophy had been explained +with great care in the Greek language, I thought that if any +of our countrymen were engrossed by the study of it, who +were well versed in Greek literature, they would be more +likely to read Greek treatises than Latin ones: but that +those men who were averse to Greek science and to the +schools of the Greek philosophers would not care the least for +such matters as these, which could not be understood at all +without some acquaintance with Greek literature. And, +therefore, I did not choose to write treatises which unlearned +men could not understand, and learned men would not be at +the trouble of reading. And you yourself are aware of this. +For you have learnt that we cannot resemble Amafanius<note place='foot'>Amafanius +was one of the earliest Roman writers of the Epicurean +school. He is mentioned by no one but Cicero.</note> or +Rabirius,<note place='foot'>We do not know who this Rabirius +was.</note> who without any art discuss matters which come +before the eyes of every one in plain ordinary language, +<pb n='006'/><anchor id='Pg006'/> +giving no accurate definitions, making no divisions, drawing +no inferences by well-directed questions, and who appear to +think that there is no such thing as any art of speaking or +disputing. But we, in obedience to the precepts of the logicians +and of orators also, as if they were positive laws, (since +our countrymen consider skill in each of these branches to be +a virtue,) are compelled to use words although they may be +new ones; which learned men, as I have said before, will +prefer taking from the Greeks, and which unlearned men will +not receive even from us; so that all our labour may be +undertaken in vain. But now, if I approved of the doctrines +of Epicurus, that is to say, of Democritus, I could write of +natural philosophy in as plain a style as Amafanius. For +what is the great difficulty when you have put an end to all +efficient causes, in speaking of the fortuitous concourse of corpuscules, +for this is the name he gives to atoms. You know +our system of natural philosophy, which depends upon the +two principles, the efficient cause, and the subject matter out +of which the efficient cause forms and produces what it does +produce. For we must have recourse to geometry, since, if +we do not, in what words will any one be able to enunciate the +principles he wishes, or whom will he be able to cause to +comprehend those assertions about life, and manners, and +desiring and avoiding such and such things? +</p> + +<p> +For those men are so simple as to think the good of a sheep +and of a man the same thing. While you know the character +and extent of the accuracy which philosophers of our +school profess. Again, if you follow Zeno, it is a hard thing to +make any one understand what that genuine and simple good +is which cannot be separated from honesty; while Epicurus +asserts that he is wholly unable to comprehend what the +character of that good may be which is unconnected with +pleasures which affect the senses. But if we follow the +doctrines of the Old Academy which, as you know, we prefer, +then with what accuracy must we apply ourselves to explain it; +with what shrewdness and even with what obscurity must we +argue against the Stoics! The whole, therefore, of that eagerness +for philosophy I claim for myself, both for the purpose +of strengthening my firmness of conduct as far as I can, and +also for the delight of my mind. Nor do I think, as Plato +says, that any more important or more valuable gift has been +given to men by the gods. But I send all my friends who +<pb n='007'/><anchor id='Pg007'/> +have any zeal for philosophy into Greece; that is to say, I bid +them study the Greek writers, in order to draw their precepts +from the fountain-head, rather than follow little streams. +But those things which no one had previously taught, and +which could not be learnt in any quarter by those who were +eager on the subject, I have laboured as far as I could (for +I have no great opinion of anything which I have done +in this line) to explain to our fellow-countrymen. For +this knowledge could not be sought for among the Greeks, +nor, after the death of our friend Lucius Ælius,<note place='foot'>Lucius +Ælius Præconinus Stilo was a Roman knight, and one of +the earliest grammarians of Rome. Cicero in the Brutus describes him +as a very learned man in both Greek and Roman literature; and especially +in old Latin works. He had been a teacher of Varro in grammar, +and of Cicero himself in rhetoric. He received the name of Stilo from +his compositions; and of Præconinus because his father had been a +herald.</note> among the +Latins either. And yet in those old works of ours which we +composed in imitation of Menippus,<note place='foot'>Menippus was +originally a slave, a native of Gadara in Cœle Syria, +and a pupil of Diogenes the Cynic. He became very rich by usury, +afterwards he lost his money and committed suicide. He wrote nothing +serious, but his books were entirely full of jests. We have some fragments +of Varro's Satyræ Menippeæ, which were written, as we are here +told, in imitation of Menippus.</note> not translating him, +sprinkling a little mirth and sportiveness over the whole subject, +there are many things mingled which are drawn from +the most recondite philosophy, and many points argued +according to the rules of strict logic; but I added these +lighter matters in order to make the whole more easy for +people of moderate learning to comprehend, if they were +invited to read those essays by a pleasing style, displayed in +panegyrics, and in the very prefaces of my books of antiquities. +And this was my object in adopting this style, however +I may have succeeded in it. +</p> + +<p> +III. The fact, I replied, is just as you say, Varro. For +while we were sojourners, as it were, in our own city, and +wandering about like strangers, your books have conducted +us, as it were, home again, so as to enable us at last to +recognise who and where we were. You have discussed the +antiquity of our country, and the variety of dates and chronology +relating to it. You have explained the laws which regulate +sacrifices and priests; you have unfolded the customs of +the city both in war and peace; you have described the +<pb n='008'/><anchor id='Pg008'/> +various quarters and districts; you have omitted mentioning +none of the names, or kinds, or functions, or causes of divine +or human things; you have thrown a great deal of light on +our poets, and altogether on Latin literature and on Latin +expressions; you have yourself composed a poem of varied +beauties, and elegant in almost every point; and you have in +many places touched upon philosophy in a manner sufficient +to excite our curiosity, though inadequate to instruct us. +</p> + +<p> +You allege, indeed, a very plausible reason for this. For, +you say, those who are learned men will prefer reading +philosophical treatises in Greek, and those who are ignorant +of Greek will not read them even in Latin. However, tell +me now, do you really agree with your own argument? I +would rather say, those who are unable to read them in the +one language will read them in the other; and even those +who can read them in Greek will not despise their own language. +For what reason can be imagined why men learned +in Greek literature should read the Latin poets, and not read +the Latin philosophers? Or again, if Ennius,<note place='foot'><p>Cicero +ranges these poets here in chronological order. +</p> +<p> +Ennius was born at Rudiæ in Calabria, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 239, of a very noble +family. He was brought to Rome by M. Porcius Cato at the end of the +second Punic war. His plays were all translations or adaptations from +the Greek; but he also wrote a poetical history of Rome called Annales, +in eighteen books, and a poem on his friend Scipio Africanus; some +Satires, Epigrams, and one or two philosophical poems. Only a few +lines of his works remain to us. He died at the age of seventy. +</p> +<p> +Pacuvius was a native of Brundusium, and a relation, probably a +nephew, of Ennius. He was born about <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 220, and lived to +about the year <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 130. His works were nearly entirely +tragedies translated from the Greek. Horace, distinguishing between him and Accius, +says— +</p> +<p> +<q rend='pre'>Aufert</q><lb/> +<q rend='post'>Pacuvius docti famam senis; Accius alti.</q>—Epist. II. i. 55. +</p></note> Pacuvius, +Accius, and many others who have given us, I will not say the +exact expressions, but the meaning of the Greeks, delight their +readers; how much more will the philosophers delight them, +if, as the poets have imitated Æschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, +they in like manner imitate Plato, Aristotle, and +Theophrastus? I see, too, that any orators among us are +praised who imitate Hyperides or Demosthenes. +</p> + +<p> +But I, (for I will speak the plain truth,) as long as ambition +and the pursuit of public honours and the pleading of +causes, and not a mere regard for the republic, but even a +<pb n='009'/><anchor id='Pg009'/> +certain degree of concern in its government, entangled me in +and hampered me with the numerous duties in which those +occupations involved me; I kept, I say, all these matters to +myself, and brushed them up, when I could, by reading, to +prevent their getting rusty. But now, having been stricken +to the ground by a most severe blow of fortune, and being +discharged from all concern in the republic, I seek a medicine +for my sorrow in philosophy, and consider this study the +most honourable pastime for my leisure. For I may look +upon it as most suitable to my age, and most especially consistent +with any memorable exploits which I may have performed, +and inferior to no other occupation in its usefulness +for the purpose of educating my fellow-countrymen. Or even +if this be too high a view to take of it, at all events I see +nothing else which I can do. My friend Brutus, indeed, a +man eminent for every kind of virtue, has illustrated philosophy +in the Latin language in such a way that he has left +Greece nothing to wish for on those subjects. And he adopts +the same opinions that you do. For he was for some time a +pupil of Aristus, at Athens, whose brother Antiochus was +your own preceptor. And therefore do you also, I entreat +you, apply yourself to this kind of literature. +</p> + +<p> +IV. Then he replied. I will indeed consider of these +matters, but only in your company. But still, said he, what +is this which I hear about you yourself? On what subject? +said I. Why, that the old system is deserted by you, and +that you have espoused the principles of the new school. +What of that? said I. Why should Antiochus, my own intimate +friend, be more at liberty to return back again from the +new school to the old, than I myself to migrate to the new +from the old? For certainly everything that is most recent +is corrected and amended in the highest degree; although +Philo, the master of Antiochus, a great man, as you yourself +consider him, used to deny in his books that there were two +Academies (and we ourselves have heard him assert the same +things in his lectures); and he convicts those who say that +there are, of palpable mistake. It is as you say, said he, but +I do not imagine that you are ignorant of what Antiochus +has written in reply to the arguments of Philo. Certainly, +said I, I am not, and I should like to hear the whole cause +of the Old Academy, from which I have been so long absent, +<pb n='010'/><anchor id='Pg010'/> +recapitulated by you, if it is not giving you too much trouble; +and let us sit down now, if you have no objection. That +will suit me very well, said he, for I am not at all strong. +But let us consider whether Atticus will be pleased with that +compliance of mine, which I see that you yourself are desirous +of. Indeed I shall, said he; for what could I prefer to being +reminded of what I long ago heard from Antiochus, and seeing +at the same time whether those ideas can be expressed with +sufficient suitableness in Latin? So after this preface we all sat +down looking at one another. And Varro began as follows:— +</p> + +<p> +Socrates appears to me, and indeed it is the universal +opinion, to have been the first person who drew philosophy +away from matters of an abstruse character, which had been +shrouded in mystery by nature herself, and in which all the +philosophers before his time had been wholly occupied, and +to have diverted it to the objects of ordinary life; directing +its speculations to virtues and vices, and generally to whatever +was good or bad. And he thought that the heavenly +bodies were either far out of the reach of our knowledge, or +that, even if we became ever so intimately acquainted with +them, they had no influence on living well. In nearly all his +discourses, which have been reported in great variety and +very fully by those who were his pupils, he argues in such a +manner that he affirms nothing himself, but refutes the assertions +of others. He says that he knows nothing, except that +one fact, that he is ignorant; and that he is superior to others +in this particular, that they believe that they do know what +they do not, while he knows this one thing alone, that he knows +nothing. And it is on that account that he imagines he was +pronounced by Apollo the wisest of all men, because this +alone is the whole of wisdom, for a man not to think that he +knows what he does not know. And as he was always saying +this, and persisting in the maintenance of this opinion, his +discourse was entirely devoted to the praise of virtue, and to +encouraging all men to the study of virtue; as may be plainly +seen in the books of the disciples of Socrates, and above all in +those of Plato. But by the influence of Plato, a man of vast +and varied and eloquent genius, a system of philosophy was +established which was one and identical, though under two +names; the system namely of the Academics and Peripatetics. +For these two schools agreed in reality, and differed +only in name. For when Plato had left Speusippus, his +<pb n='011'/><anchor id='Pg011'/> +sister's son, the inheritor as it were of his philosophy, and also +two pupils most eminent for industry and genius, Xenocrates +of Chalcedon, and Aristotle the Stagirite; those who adhered +to Aristotle were called Peripatetics, because they disputed +while walking<note place='foot'>From περιπατέω, to walk.</note> +in the Lyceum. And the others, who according +to the fashion of Plato himself were accustomed to hold their +meetings and discussions in the Academy, which is a second +Gymnasium, took their name from the place where they used +to meet. But both these schools, being impregnated with +the copiousness of Plato, arranged a certain definite system of +doctrine, which was itself copious and luxuriant; but abandoned +the Socratic plan of doubting on every subject, and of +discussing everything without ever venturing on the assertion +of a positive opinion. And thus there arose what Socrates +would have been far from approving of, a certain art of philosophy, +and methodical arrangement, and division of the +school, which at first, as I have already said, was one under +two names. For there was no real difference between the +Peripatetics and the old Academy. Aristotle, at least such is +my opinion, was superior in a certain luxuriance of genius; +but both schools had the same source, and adopted the same +division of things which were to be desired and avoided. But +what am I about? said he, interrupting himself; am I in my +senses while I am explaining these things to you? for although +it may not be exactly a case of the pig teaching Minerva, +still it is not very wise of any one to attempt to impart instruction +to that goddess. +</p> + +<p> +V. I entreat you however, said Atticus, I entreat you to +go on, Varro. For I am greatly attached to my own countrymen +and to their works; and those subjects delight me beyond +measure when they are treated in Latin, and in such a manner +as you treat them. And what, said I, do you think that +I must feel, who have already engaged to display philosophy +to our nation? Let us then, said he, continue the subject, +since it is agreeable to you. +</p> + +<p> +A threefold system of philosophising, then, was already received +from Plato. One, on the subject of life and morals. A +second, on nature and abstruse matters. The third, on discussion, +and on what is true or false; what is right or wrong +in a discourse; what is consistent or inconsistent in forming +a decision. +</p> + +<pb n='012'/><anchor id='Pg012'/> + +<p> +And that first division of the subject, that namely of living +well, they sought in nature herself, and said that it was necessary +to obey her; and that that chief good to which everything +was referred was not to be sought in anything whatever +except in nature. And they laid it down that the crowning +point of all desirable things, and the chief good, was to have +received from nature everything which is requisite for the +mind, or the body, or for life. But of the goods of the body, +they placed some in the whole, and others in the parts. +Health, strength, and beauty in the whole. In the parts, +soundness of the senses, and a certain excellence of the individual +parts. As in the feet, swiftness; in the hands, strength; +in the voice, clearness; in the tongue, a distinct articulation +of words. The excellences of the mind they considered those +which were suitable to the comprehension of virtue by the +disposition. And those they divided under the separate heads +of nature and morals. Quickness in learning and memory +they attributed to nature; each of which was described as a +property of the mind and genius. Under the head of <q>morals</q> +they classed our studies, and, I may say, our habits, which they +formed, partly by a continuity of practice, partly by reason. +And in these two things was contained philosophy itself, in +which that which is begun and not brought to its completion, +is called a sort of advance towards virtue; but that which is +brought to completion is virtue, being a sort of perfection of +nature and of all things which they place in the mind; the +one most excellent thing. These things then are qualities of +the mind. +</p> + +<p> +The third division was that of life. And they said that +those things which had influence in facilitating the practice of +virtue were connected with this division. For virtue is discerned +in some good qualities of the mind and body, which +are added not so much to nature as to a happy life. They +thought that a man was as it were a certain part of the state, +and of the whole human race, and that he was connected with +other men by a sort of human society. And this is the way +in which they deal with the chief and natural good. But they +think that everything else is connected with it, either in the +way of increasing or of maintaining it; as riches, power, +glory, and influence. And thus a threefold division of goods +is inferred by them. +</p> + +<pb n='013'/><anchor id='Pg013'/> + +<p> +VI. And these are those three kinds which most people +believe the Peripatetics speak of: and so far they are not +wrong; for this division is the work of that school. But +they are mistaken if they think that the Academicians—those +at least who bore this name at that time—are different from +the Peripatetics. The principle, and the chief good asserted +by both appeared to be the same—namely, to attain those +things which were in the first class by nature, and which +were intrinsically desirable; the whole of them, if possible, +or, at all events, the most important of them. But those are +the most important which exist in the mind itself, and are +conversant about virtue itself. Therefore, all that ancient +philosophy perceived that a happy life was placed in virtue +alone; and yet that it was not the happiest life possible, +unless the good qualities of the body were added to it, and all +the other things which have been already mentioned, which +are serviceable towards acquiring a habit of virtue. From +this definition of theirs, a certain principle of action in life, +and of duty itself, was discovered, which consisted in the +preservation of those things which nature might prescribe. +Hence arose the avoidance of sloth, and contempt of pleasures; +from which proceeded the willingness to encounter +many and great labours and pains, for the sake of what was +right and honourable, and of those things which are conformable +to the objects of nature. Hence was generated +friendship, and justice, and equity; and these things were +preferred to pleasure and to many of the advantages of life. +This was the system of morals recommended in their school, +and the method and design of that division which I have +placed first. +</p> + +<p> +But concerning nature (for that came next), they spoke in +such a manner that they divided it into two parts,—making +one efficient, and the other lending itself, as it were, to the +first, as subject matter to be worked upon. For that part +which was efficient they thought there was power; and in +that which was made something by it they thought there +was some matter; and something of both in each. For +they considered that matter itself could have no cohesion, +unless it were held together by some power; and that power +could have none without some matter to work upon; for that +is nothing which is not necessarily somewhere. But +<pb n='014'/><anchor id='Pg014'/> +that which exists from a combination of the two they called +at once body, and a sort of quality, as it were. For you will +give me leave, in speaking of subjects which have not previously +been in fashion, to use at times words which have +never been heard of (which, indeed, is no more than the +Greeks themselves do, who have been long in the habit of +discussing these subjects). +</p> + +<p> +VII. To be sure we will, said Atticus. Moreover, you may +even use Greek words when you wish, if by chance you +should be at a loss for Latin ones. You are very kind; but +I will endeavour to express myself in Latin, except in the +case of such words as these—<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>philosophia</foreign>, +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>rhetorica</foreign>, +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>physica</foreign>, +or <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>dialectica</foreign>, +which, like many others, fashion already sanctions, +as if they were Latin. I therefore have called those +things <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>qualitates</foreign> +(qualities), which the Greeks call ποιότητες—a +word which, even among the Greeks, is not one in ordinary +use, but is confined to philosophers. And the same rule +applies to many other expressions. As for the Dialecticians, +they have no terms in common use: they use technical terms +entirely. And the case is the same with nearly every art; for +men must either invent new names for new things, or else +borrow them from other subjects. And if the Greeks do this, +who have now been engaged in such matters for so many +ages, how much more ought this licence to be allowed to us, +who are now endeavouring to deal with these subjects for the +first time? But, said I, O Varro, it appears to me that you +will deserve well of your fellow-countrymen, if you enrich +them, not only with an abundance of new things, as you have +done, but also of words. We will venture, then, said he, to +employ new terms, if it be necessary, armed with your authority +and sanction. +</p> + +<p> +Of these qualities, then, said he, some are principal ones, +and others arise out of them. The principal ones are of one +character and simple; but those which arise out of them are +various, and, as it were, multiform. Therefore, air (we use +the Greek word ἀὴρ as Latin), fire, water, and earth are principal +ones; and out of them there arise the forms of living +creatures, and of those things which are produced out of the +earth. Therefore, those first are called principles and (to +translate the Greek word) elements: from which air and fire +have the power of movement and efficiency: the other divisions—I +<pb n='015'/><anchor id='Pg015'/> +mean, water and the earth—have the power of +receiving, and, as it were, of suffering. The fifth class, from +which the stars and winds were formed, Aristotle considered +to be a separate essence, and different from those four which +I have mentioned above. +</p> + +<p> +But they think that there is placed under all of these a +certain matter without any form, and destitute of all quality +(for we may as well, by constant use, make this word more +usual and notorious), from which all things are sketched out +and made; which can receive everything in its entirety, and +can be changed in every manner and in every part. And also +that it perishes, not so as to become nothing, but so as to be +dissolved with its component parts, which again are able to +be cut up and divided, <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>ad +infinitum</foreign>; since there is absolutely +nothing in the whole nature of things which cannot be divided: +and those things which are moved, are all moved at +intervals, which intervals again are capable of being infinitely +divided. And, since that power which we have called quality +is moved in this way, and is agitated in every direction, they +think also that the whole of matter is itself entirely changed, +and so that those things are produced which they call qualities, +from which the world is made, in universal nature, +cohering together and connected with all its divisions; and, +out of the world, there is no such thing as any portion of +matter or any body. +</p> + +<p> +And they say that the parts of the world are all the things +which exist in it, and which are maintained by sentient +nature; in which perfect reason is placed, which is also everlasting: +for that there is nothing more powerful which can be +the cause of its dissolution. And this power they call the +soul of the world, and also its intellect and perfect wisdom. +And they call it God, a providence watching over everything +subject to its dominion, and, above all, over the heavenly +bodies; and, next to them, over those things on earth which +concern men: which also they sometimes call necessity, +because nothing can be done in a manner different from that +in which it has been arranged by it in a destined (if I may so +say) and inevitable continuation of eternal order. Sometimes, +too, they call it fortune, because it brings about many unforeseen +things, which have never been expected by us, on account +of the obscurity of their causes, and our ignorance of them. +</p> + +<pb n='016'/><anchor id='Pg016'/> + +<p> +VIII. The third part of philosophy, which is next in order, +being conversant about reason and discussion, was thus handled +by both schools. They said that, although it originated +in the senses, still the power of judging of the truth was not +in the senses. They insisted upon it that intellect was the +judge of things. They thought that the only thing deserving +of belief, because it alone discerned that which was always +simple and uniform, and which perceived its real character. +This they call <emph>idea</emph>, having already received this name from +Plato; and we properly entitle it <emph>species</emph>. +</p> + +<p> +But they thought that all the senses were dull and slow, +and that they did not by any means perceive those things +which appeared subjected to the senses; which were either so +small as to be unable to come under the notice of sense, or so +moveable and rapid that none of them was ever one consistent +thing, nor even the same thing, because everything +was in a continual state of transition and disappearance. And +therefore they called all this division of things one resting +wholly on opinion. But they thought that science had no +existence anywhere except in the notions and reasonings of +the mind; on which account they approved of the definitions +of things, and employed them on everything which was +brought under discussion. The explanation of words also was +approved of—that is to say, the explanation of the cause why +everything was named as it was; and that they called etymology. +Afterwards they used arguments, and, as it were, marks +of things, for the proof and conclusion of what they wished to +have explained; in which the whole system of dialectics—that +is to say, of an oration brought to its conclusion by ratiocination, +was handed down. And to this there was added, as a +kind of second part, the oratorical power of speaking, which +consists in developing a continued discourse, composed in a +manner adapted to produce conviction. +</p> + +<p> +IX. This was the first philosophy handed down to them +by Plato. And if you like I will explain to you those discussions +which have originated in it. Indeed, said I, we shall be +glad if you will; and I can answer for Atticus as well as for +myself. You are quite right, said he; for the doctrine both +of the Peripatetics and of the old Academy is most admirably +explained. +</p> + +<p> +Aristotle, then, was the first to undermine the doctrine of +<pb n='017'/><anchor id='Pg017'/> +species, which I have just now mentioned, and which Plato +had embraced in a wonderful manner; so that he even +affirmed that there was something divine in it. But Theophrastus, +a man of very delightful eloquence, and of such +purity of morals that his probity and integrity were notorious +to all men, broke down more vigorously still the +authority of the old school; for he stripped virtue of its +beauty, and made it powerless, by denying that to live happily +depended solely on it. For Strato, his pupil, although +a man of brilliant abilities, must still be excluded entirely +from that school; for, having deserted that most indispensable +part of philosophy which is placed in virtue and morals, +and having devoted himself wholly to the investigation of +nature, he by that very conduct departs as widely as possible +from his companions. But Speusippus and Xenocrates, who +were the earliest supporters of the system and authority of +Plato,—and, after them, Polemo and Crates, and at the same +time Crantor,—being all collected together in the Academy, +diligently maintained those doctrines which they had received +from their predecessors. Zeno and Arcesilas had been diligent +attenders on Polemo; but Zeno, who preceded Arcesilas in +point of time, and argued with more subtilty, and was a man +of the greatest acuteness, attempted to correct the system of +that school. And, if you like, I will explain to you the way +in which he set about that correction, as Antiochus used to +explain it. Indeed, said I, I shall be very glad to hear you +do so; and you see that Pomponius intimates the same wish. +</p> + +<p> +X. Zeno, then, was not at all a man like Theophrastus, to cut +through the sinews of virtue; but, on the other hand, he was +one who placed everything which could have any effect in +producing a happy life in virtue alone, and who reckoned +nothing else a good at all, and who called that honourable +which was single in its nature, and the sole and only +good. But as for all other things, although they were neither +good nor bad, he divided them, calling some according to, and +others contrary to nature. There were others which he looked +upon as placed between these two classes, and which he called +intermediate. Those which were according to nature, he +taught his disciples, deserved to be taken, and to be considered +worthy of a certain esteem. To those which were contrary to +nature, he assigned a contrary character; and those of the +<pb n='018'/><anchor id='Pg018'/> +intermediate class he left as neutrals, and attributed to them +no importance whatever. But of those which he said ought +to be taken, he considered some worthy of a higher estimation +and others of a less. Those which were worthy of a higher +esteem, he called <emph>preferred</emph>; those which were only worthy of +a lower degree, he called <emph>rejected</emph>. And as he had altered all +these things, not so much in fact as in name, so too he defined +some actions as intermediate, lying between good deeds and +sins, between duty and a violation of duty;—classing things +done rightly as good actions, and things done wrongly (that is +to say, sins) as bad actions. And several duties, whether discharged +or neglected, he considered of an intermediate character, +as I have already said. And whereas his predecessors +had not placed every virtue in reason, but had said that some +virtues were perfected by nature, or by habit, he placed them +all in reason; and while they thought that those kinds of +virtues which I have mentioned above could be separated, he +asserted that that could not be done in any manner, and +affirmed that not only the practice of virtue (which was the +doctrine of his predecessors), but the very disposition to it, +was intrinsically beautiful; and that virtue could not possibly +be present to any one without his continually practising it. +</p> + +<p> +And while they did not entirely remove all perturbation of +mind from man, (for they admitted that man did by nature +grieve, and desire, and fear, and become elated by joy,) but +only contracted it, and reduced it to narrow bounds; he +maintained that the wise man was wholly free from all these +diseases as they might be called. And as the ancients said that +those perturbations were natural, and devoid of reason, and +placed desire in one part of the mind and reason in another, +he did not agree with them either; for he thought that all +perturbations were voluntary, and were admitted by the +judgment of the opinion, and that a certain unrestrained intemperance +was the mother of all of them. And this is nearly +what he laid down about morals. +</p> + +<p> +XI. But about natures he held these opinions. In the +first place, he did not connect this fifth nature, out of which +his predecessors thought that sense and intellect were produced, +with those four principles of things. For he laid it +down that fire is that nature which produces everything, and +intellect, and sense. But he differed from them again, inasmuch +<pb n='019'/><anchor id='Pg019'/> +as he thought it absolutely impossible for anything to +be produced from that nature which was destitute of body; +which was the character attributed by Xenocrates and his +predecessors to the mind, and he would not allow that that +which produced anything, or which was produced by anything, +could possibly be anything except body. +</p> + +<p> +But he made a great many alterations in that third part of +his philosophy, in which, first of all, he said some new things +of the senses themselves: which he considered to be united by +some impulse as it were, acting upon them from without, +which he called φαντασία, and which we may term <emph>perception</emph>. +And let us recollect this word, for we shall have frequent occasion +to employ it in the remainder of our discourse; but +to these things which are perceived, and as it were accepted +by the senses, he adds the assent of the mind, which he considers +to be placed in ourselves and voluntary. He did not +give credit to everything which is perceived, but only to those +which contain some especial character of those things which +are seen; but he pronounced what was seen, when it was discerned +on account of its own power, <emph>comprehensible</emph>—will +you allow me this word? Certainly, said Atticus, for how +else are you to express καταληπτός? But after it had been +received and approved, then he called it <emph>comprehension</emph>, resembling +those things which are taken up (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>prehenduntur</foreign>) +in the hand; from which verb also he derived this noun, though +no one else had ever used this verb with reference to such +matters; and he also used many new words, for he was speaking +of new things. But that which was comprehended by +sense he called <emph>felt</emph> (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>sensum</foreign>,) +and if it was so comprehended +that it could not be eradicated by reason, he called it knowledge; +otherwise he called it ignorance: from which also was +engendered opinion, which was weak, and compatible with +what was false or unknown. But between knowledge and +ignorance he placed that comprehension which I have spoken +of, and reckoned it neither among what was right or what +was wrong, but said that it alone deserved to be trusted. +</p> + +<p> +And from this he attributed credit also to the senses, because, +as I have said above, comprehension made by the +senses appeared to him to be true and trustworthy. Not +because it comprehended all that existed in a thing, but because +it left out nothing which could affect it, and because +<pb n='020'/><anchor id='Pg020'/> +nature had given it to us to be as it were a rule of knowledge, +and a principle from which subsequently all notions of +things might be impressed on our minds, from which not only +principles, but some broader paths to the discovery of reason +are found out. But error, and rashness, and ignorance, and +opinion, and suspicion, and in a word everything which was +inconsistent with a firm and consistent assent, he discarded +from virtue and wisdom. And it is in these things that +nearly all the disagreement between Zeno and his predecessors, +and all his alteration of their system consists. +</p> + +<p> +XII. And when he had spoken thus—You have, said I, +O Varro, explained the principles both of the Old Academy +and of the Stoics with brevity, but also with great clearness. +But I think it to be true, as Antiochus, a great friend of mine, +used to assert, that it is to be considered rather as a corrected +edition of the Old Academy, than as any new sect. Then +Varro replied—It is your part now, who revolt from the principles +of the ancients, and who approve of the innovations +which have been made by Arcesilas, to explain what that +division of the two schools which he made was, and why he +made it; so that we may see whether that revolt of his was +justifiable. Then I replied—Arcesilas, as we understand, +directed all his attacks against Zeno, not out of obstinacy or +any desire of gaining the victory, as it appears to me, but by +reason of the obscurity of those things which had brought +Socrates to the confession of ignorance, and even before +Socrates, Democritus, Anaxagoras, Empedocles, and nearly +all the ancients; who asserted that nothing could be ascertained, +or perceived, or known: that the senses of man were +narrow, his mind feeble, the course of his life short, and that +truth, as Democritus said, was sunk in the deep; that everything +depended on opinions and established customs; that +nothing was left to truth. They said in short, that everything +was enveloped in darkness; therefore Arcesilas asserted +that there was nothing which could be known, not even that +very piece of knowledge which Socrates had left himself. +Thus he thought that everything lay hid in secret, and that +there was nothing which could be discerned or understood; +for which reasons it was not right for any one to profess or +affirm anything, or sanction anything by his assent, but men +ought always to restrain their rashness and to keep it in check +<pb n='021'/><anchor id='Pg021'/> +so as to guard it against every fall. For rashness would be +very remarkable when anything unknown or false was +approved of; and nothing could be more discreditable than +for a man's assent and approbation to precede his knowledge +and perception of a fact. And he used to act consistently +with these principles, so as to pass most of his days in arguing +against every one's opinion, in order that when equally important +reasons were found for both sides of the same question, +the judgment might more naturally be suspended, and prevented +from giving assent to either. +</p> + +<p> +This they call the New Academy, which however appears +to me to be the old one, if, at least, we reckon Plato as one of +that Old Academy. For in his books nothing is affirmed +positively, and many arguments are allowed on both sides of +a question; everything is investigated, and nothing positive +affirmed. Still let the school whose principles I have explained, +be called the Old Academy, and this other the New; +which, having continued to the time of Carneades, who was +the fourth in succession after Arcesilas, continued in the +same principles and system as Arcesilas. But Carneades, +being a man ignorant of no part of philosophy, and, as I +have learnt from those who had been his pupils, and particularly +from Zeno the Epicurean, who, though he greatly +differed from him in opinion, still admired him above all other +men, was also a person of incredible abilities... +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>The rest of this Book is lost.</hi> +</p> + +</div> + +<div> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>Second Book Of The Academic Questions.</head> + +<p> +I. Lucius Lucullus was a man of great genius, and very +much devoted to the study of the most important arts; every +branch of liberal learning worthy of a man of high birth, was +thoroughly understood by him; but at the time when he +might have made the greatest figure in the forum, he was +wholly removed from all participation in the business of the +city. For while he was very young, he, uniting with his +brother, a man of equal sense of duty and diligence with himself, +<pb n='022'/><anchor id='Pg022'/> +followed up the quarrel<note place='foot'>This Lucius Lucullus +was the son of Lucius Licinius Lucullus, who was prætor +<hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 103, and was appointed by the senate to take the +command in Sicily, where there was a formidable insurrection of the +slaves under Athenion and Tryphon. He was not however successful, +and was recalled; and subsequently prosecuted by Servilius for bribery +and malversation, convicted and banished. The exact time of the +birth of this Lucullus his son is not known, but was probably about +<hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 109. His first appearance in public life was prosecuting +Servilius, who had now become an augur, on a criminal charge, (which is +what Cicero alludes to here.) And though the trial terminated in the +acquittal of Servilius, yet the part Lucullus took in it appears to have +added greatly to his credit among his contemporaries. The special law +in his favour mentioned a few lines lower down, was passed by Sylla +with whom Lucullus was in high favour; so much so that Sylla at his +death confided to him the charge of revising and correcting his Commentaries. +Cicero's statement of his perfect inexperience in military +affairs before the war against Mithridates is not quite correct, as he had +served with distinction in the Marsic war. The time of his death is +not certainly known, but Cicero speaks of him as dead in the Oration +concerning the consular provinces, delivered <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 56, while he +was certainly alive <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 59, in which year he was charged by +L. Vettius with an imaginary plot against the life of Pompey. His second wife was +Servilia, half-sister to Cato Uticensis.</note> bequeathed to him by his father +to his own exceeding credit; afterwards having gone as +quæstor into Asia, he there governed the province for many +years with great reputation. Subsequently he was made +ædile in his absence, and immediately after that he was elected +prætor; for his services had been rewarded by an express law +authorizing his election at a period earlier than usual. After +that he was sent into Africa; from thence he proceeded to +the consulship, the duties of which he discharged in such a +manner, that every one admired his diligence, and recognised +his genius. Afterwards he was sent by the Senate to conduct +the war against Mithridates, and there he not only surpassed +the universal expectation which every one had formed of his +valour, but even the glory of his predecessors. And that was +the more admirable in him, because great skill as a general +was not very much looked for in one who had spent his +youth in the occupations of the forum, and the duration of +his quæstorship in peace in Asia, while Murena was carrying +on the war in Pontus. But the incredible greatness of his +genius did not require the aid of experience, which can +never be taught by precepts. Therefore, having devoted the +whole time occupied in his march and his voyage, partly +<pb n='023'/><anchor id='Pg023'/> +to making inquiries of those who were skilful in such matters, +and partly in reading the accounts of great achievements, +he arrived in Asia a perfect general, though he had +left Rome entirely ignorant of military affairs. For he had +an almost divine memory for facts, though Hortensius had a +better one for words. But as in performing great deeds, facts +are of more consequence than words, this memory of his was +the more serviceable of the two; and they say, that the same +quality was conspicuous in Themistocles, whom we consider +beyond all comparison the first man in Greece. And a story +is told of him, that, when some one promised to teach him +the art of memory, which was then beginning to be cultivated, +he answered, that he should much prefer learning to forget; +I suppose, because everything which he had either heard or +seen stuck in his memory. +</p> + +<p> +Lucullus having this great genius, added to it that study +which Themistocles had despised: therefore, as we write down +in letters what we wish to commit to monuments, he, in like +manner, had the facts engraved in his mind. Therefore, he was +a general of such perfect skill in every kind of war, in battles, +and sieges, and naval fights, and in the whole equipment and +management of war, that that king, the greatest that has ever +lived since the time of Alexander, confessed, that he considered +him a greater general than any one of whom he had +ever read. He also displayed such great prudence in arranging +and regulating the affairs of the different cities, and such +great justice too, that to this very day, Asia is preserved by +the careful maintenance of the regulations, and by following +as it were in the footsteps of Lucullus. But although it was +greatly to the advantage of the republic, still that great virtue +and genius was kept abroad at a distance from the eyes both +of the forum and the senate-house, for a longer time than I +could have wished. Moreover, when he had returned victorious +from the war against Mithridates, owing to the calumnies +of his adversaries, he did not celebrate his triumph +till three years later than he ought to have done. For I may +almost say, that I myself when consul led into the city the +chariot of that most illustrious man, and I might enlarge +upon the great advantage that his counsel and authority were +to me, in the most critical circumstances, if it were not that +to do so would compel me to speak of myself, which at this +<pb n='024'/><anchor id='Pg024'/> +moment is not necessary. Therefore, I will rather deprive +him of the testimony due to him, than mix it up now with a +commendation of myself. +</p> + +<p> +II. But as for those exploits of Lucullus, which were entitled +to be celebrated by the praises of the nation, they have +been extolled both in Greek and Latin writings. For those +outward exploits of his are known to us in common with the +multitude; but his interior excellences (if I may so call them) +we and a few of his friends have learnt from himself. For +Lucullus used to apply himself to every kind of literature, +and especially to philosophy, with greater eagerness than +those who were not acquainted with him believed. And he +did so, not only at his first entrance into life, but also when +he was proquæstor, as he was for several years, and even +during the time of war itself, a time when men are usually +so fully occupied with their military business, that very little +leisure is left to the general, even in his own tent. And as of +all the philosophers of that day, Antiochus, who had been a +pupil of Philo, was thought to excel in genius and learning, +he kept him about him while he was quæstor, and some years +afterwards when he was general. And as he had that extraordinary +memory which I have mentioned already, by hearing +frequently of things, he arrived at a thorough acquaintance +with them; as he recollected everything that he had heard of +only once. And he was wonderfully delighted in the reading +books of which he heard any one speak. +</p> + +<p> +And I sometimes fear lest I may even diminish the glory +of such characters as his, even while wishing to enhance it; +for there are many people who are altogether averse to Greek +literature, still more who have a dislike to philosophy, +and men in general, even though they do not positively disapprove +of them, still think the discussion of such matters +not altogether suitable for the chiefs of the state. But I, +having heard that Marcus Cato learnt Greek in his old age, +and learning from history that Panætius was above all other +men the chosen companion of Publius Africanus, in that +noble embassy which he was employed on before he entered +on the censorship, think I have no need of any other instance +to justify his study of Greek literature or of philosophy. +</p> + +<p> +It remains for me to reply to those men who disapprove of +such dignified characters being mixed up in discussions of this +<pb n='025'/><anchor id='Pg025'/> +sort; as if the meetings of illustrious men were bound to be +passed in silence, or their conversation to be confined to jesting, +and all the topics to be drawn from trifling subjects. In +truth, if in any one of my writings I have given philosophy +its due praise, then surely its discussion is thoroughly worthy +of every excellent and honourable man; nor is anything else +necessary to be taken care of by us, whom the Roman +people has placed in our present rank, except that we do not +devote to our private pursuits, the time which ought to be +bestowed on the affairs of the public. But if, while we are +bound to discharge our duties, we still not only never omit to +give our assistance in all public meetings, but never even +write a single word unconnected with the forum, who then +will blame our leisure, because even in that moment we are +unwilling to allow ourselves to grow rusty and stupid, but +take pains rather to benefit as many people as possible? +</p> + +<p> +And I think, that not only is the glory of those men not +diminished, but that it is even increased by our adding to +their popular and notorious praises these also which are less +known and less spoken of. Some people also deny that those +men who are introduced in our writings as disputants had +any knowledge of those affairs which are the subjects of discussion. +But they appear to me to be showing their envy, +not only of the living but also of the dead. +</p> + +<p> +III. There remains one class of critics who disapprove of +the general principles of the Academy. Which we should be +more concerned at if any one approved of any school of philosophy +except that which he himself followed. But we, +since we are in the habit of arguing against every one who +appears to himself to know anything, cannot object to others +also dissenting from us. Although our side of the question is +an easier one, since we wish to discover the truth without any +dispute, and we seek for that with the greatest anxiety and +diligence. For although all knowledge is beset with many difficulties, +and there is that obscurity in the things themselves +and that infirmity in our own judgment, that it is not without +reason that the most learned and ancient philosophers have +distrusted their power of discovering what they wished; yet +they have not been deficient in any respect, nor do we allow +ourselves to abandon the pursuit of truth through fatigue; +nor have our discussions ever any other object except that of, +<pb n='026'/><anchor id='Pg026'/> +by arguing on each side, eliciting, and as it were, squeezing out +something which may either be the truth itself, or may at least +come as near as possible to it. Nor is there any difference +between us and those people who fancy that they know something, +except that they do not doubt at all that those doctrines +which they uphold are the truth, while we account +many things as probable which we can adopt as our belief, +but can hardly positively affirm. +</p> + +<p> +And in this we are more free and unfettered than they are, +because our power of judging is unimpeached, and because +we are not compelled by any necessity to defend theories +which are laid upon as injunctions, and, if I may say so, as +commands. For in the first place, those of the other schools +have been bound hand and foot before they were able to judge +what was best; and, secondly, before their age or their understanding +had come to maturity, they have either followed the +opinion of some friend, or been charmed by the eloquence of +some one who was the first arguer whom they ever heard, +and so have been led to form a judgment on what they did +not understand, and now they cling to whatever school they +were, as it were, dashed against in a tempest, like sailors +clinging to a rock. For as to their statement that they are +wholly trusting to one whom they judge to have been a wise +man, I should approve of that if that were a point which they, +while ignorant and unlearned, were able to judge of, (for to +decide who is a wise man appears to me most especially the +task of one who is himself wise.) But they have either +formed their opinion as well as they could from a hearing of +all the circumstances, and also from a knowledge of the +opinions of philosophers of all the other schools; or else, +having heard the matter mentioned once, they have surrendered +themselves to the guidance of some one individual. +But, I know not how it is, most people prefer being in error, +and defending with the utmost pugnacity that opinion which +they have taken a fancy to, to inquiring without any obstinacy +what is said with the greatest consistency. +</p> + +<p> +And these subjects were very frequently and very copiously +discussed by us at other times, and once also in the villa of +Hortensius, which is at Bauli, when Catulus, and Lucullus, +and I myself had arrived there the day after we had been +staying with Catulus. And we had come thither rather early +<pb n='027'/><anchor id='Pg027'/> +in the day, because we had intended, if the wind was fair, to +set sail, Lucullus for his villa near Naples, and I myself +towards mine, in the district of Pompeii. When, therefore, +we had had a short conversation on the terrace, we sat down +where we were. +</p> + +<p> +IV. Then Catulus said,—Although what we were inquiring +into yesterday was almost wholly explained in such a manner +that nearly the whole question appears to have been discussed, +still I long to hear what you promised to tell us, Lucullus, +as being what you had learnt from Antiochus. I, indeed, said +Hortensius, did more than I intended, for the whole matter +ought to have been left untouched for Lucullus, and indeed, +perhaps it was: for I only said such things as occurred to me +at the moment; but I hope to hear something more recondite +from Lucullus. +</p> + +<p> +Lucullus rejoined, I am not much troubled, Hortensius, at +your expectation, although there is nothing so unfavourable +for those who wish to give pleasure; but still, as I am not +very anxious about how far I can prove to your satisfaction +the arguments which I advance, I am the less disturbed. For +the arguments which I am going to repeat are not my own, +nor such that, if they are incorrect, I should not prefer being +defeated to gaining the victory; but, in truth, as the case +stands at present, although the doctrines of my school were +somewhat shaken in yesterday's discussion, still they do seem +to me to be wholly true. I will therefore argue as Antiochus +used to argue; for the subject is one with which I am well +acquainted. For I used to listen to his lectures with a mind +quite unengaged, and with great pleasure, and, moreover, he +frequently discussed the same subject over again; so that you +have some grounds for expecting more from me than you +had from Hortensius a little while ago. When he had begun +in this manner we prepared to listen with great attention. +</p> + +<p> +And he spoke thus:—When I was at Alexandria, as proquæstor, +Antiochus was with me, and before my arrival, Heraclitus, +of Tyre, a friend of Antiochus, had already settled in +Alexandria, a man who had been for many years a pupil of +Clitomachus and of Philo, and who had a great and deserved +reputation in that school, which having been almost utterly +discarded, is now coming again into fashion; and I used often +to hear Antiochus arguing with him; but they both conducted +<pb n='028'/><anchor id='Pg028'/> +their discussions with great gentleness. And just at +that time those two books of Philo which were yesterday +mentioned by Catulus had been brought to Alexandria, and +had for the first time come under the notice of Antiochus; +and he, though naturally a man of the mildest disposition, +(nor indeed was it possible for any one to be more peaceable +than he was,) was nevertheless a little provoked. I was surprised, +for I had never seen him so before: but he, appealing +to the recollection of Heraclitus, began to inquire of him +whether he had seen those works of Philo, or whether he had +heard the doctrines contained in them, either from Philo or +from any one else of the Academic school? And he said that he +had not; however, he recognised the style of Philo, nor, indeed, +could there be any doubt about it; for some friends of mine, +men of great learning, Publius and Caius Setilius, and Tetrilius +Rogus were present, who said that they heard Philo advance +such operations at Rome; and who said that they had written +out those two books from his dictation. Then Antiochus +repeated what Catulus mentioned yesterday, as having been +said to Philo by his father, and many other things besides; +nor did he forbear even to publish a book against his own +master, which is called <q>Sosus.</q> +</p> + +<p> +I therefore, then, as I was much interested in hearing +Heraclitus arguing against Antiochus, and Antiochus against +the Academicians, paid great attention to Antiochus, in order +to learn the whole matter from him. Accordingly, for many +days, collecting together Heraclitus and several learned men, +and among them Aristus, the brother of Antiochus, and also +Ariston and Dion, men whom he considered only second to +his brother in genius, we devoted a great deal of time to that +single discussion. +</p> + +<p> +But we must pass over that part of it which was bestowed +on refuting the doctrines of Philo; for he is a less formidable +adversary, who altogether denies that the Academicians advance +those arguments which were maintained yesterday. +For although he is quite wrong as to the fact, still he is a +less invincible adversary. Let us speak of Arcesilas and +Carneades. +</p> + +<p> +V. And having said this, he began again:—You appear to +me, in the first place, (and he addressed me by name,) when +you speak of the old natural philosophers, to do the same +<pb n='029'/><anchor id='Pg029'/> +thing that seditious citizens are in the habit of doing when +they bring forward some illustrious men of the ancients, who +they say were friends of the people, in the hope of being +themselves considered like them. They go back to Publius +Valerius, who was consul the first year after the expulsion of +the kings. They enumerate all the other men who have +passed laws for the advantage of the people concerning appeals +when they were consuls; and then they come down to +these better known men, Caius Flaminius, who, as tribune of +the people, passed an Agrarian law some years before the +second Punic war, against the will of the senate, and who +was afterwards twice elected consul; to Lucius Cassius and +Quintus Pompeius; they are also in the habit of classing +Publius Africanus in the same list; and they assert that those +two brothers of infinite wisdom and exceeding glory, Publius +Crassus and Publius Scævola, were the advisers of Tiberius Gracchus, +in the matter of the laws which he proposed; the one, +indeed, as we see, openly; the other, as we suspect, in a more +concealed manner. They add also Caius Marius; and with +respect to him they speak truly enough: then, having recounted +the names of so many illustrious men, they say that +they are acting up to their principles. +</p> + +<p> +In like manner, you, when you are seeking to overturn a +well-established system of philosophy, in the same way as +those men endeavoured to overturn the republic, bring forward +the names of Empedocles, Anaxagoras, Democritus, Parmenides, +Xenophanes, and even Plato and Socrates. But +Saturninus, (that I may name my own enemy rather than +any one else,) had nothing in him resembling those ancient +men; nor are the ungrounded accusations of Arcesilas to be +compared to the modesty of Democritus. And yet those +natural philosophers, though very seldom, when they have +any very great difficulty, make loud and violent outcries, as if +under the influence of some great excitement, Empedocles, +indeed, does so to such a degree, that he appears to me at +times to be mad, crying out that all things are hidden, that +we feel nothing, see nothing, and cannot find out the true +character of anything whatever. But for the most part all +those men appear to me to affirm some things rather too +positively, and to profess that they know more than they +really do know. But if they then hesitated while discussing +new subjects, like children lately born, are we for that reason +<pb n='030'/><anchor id='Pg030'/> +to think that nothing has been explained in so many ages by +the greatest genius and the most untiring industry? May +we not say that, after the establishment of some wise and +important schools of philosophy, then, as Tiberius Gracchus +arose in an excellent constitution, for the purpose of throwing +everything into confusion, so Arcesilas rose up to overturn +the established philosophy, and to shelter himself under the +authority of those men who asserted that nothing could be +known or perceived; in which number we ought not to include +Plato or Socrates; the one because he left behind him a +most perfect school, namely, the Peripatetics and Academics, +differing in name, but agreeing in all substantial matters: and +from whom the Stoics themselves differ in words rather than +in opinions. But Socrates, who always disparaged himself in +arguing, attributed more knowledge to those whom he wished +to refute. So, as he was speaking differently from what he +really thought, he was fond of using that kind of dissimulation +which the Greeks call εἰρωνεία; which Fannius says +Africanus also was in the habit of indulging in, and that that +ought not be considered a bad habit in him, as it was a +favourite practice of Socrates. +</p> + +<p> +VI. But, however, we will allow, if you like, that all those +things were unknown to the ancients:—was nothing effected +then, by their being thoroughly investigated, after that Arcesilas, +disparaging Zeno, (for that is supposed to have been his +object,) as discovering nothing new, but only correcting previous +changes of names, while seeking to upset his definitions, +had attempted to envelop the clearest possible matters in +darkness? And his system, which was at first not at all +approved of, although it was illustrated both by acute genius +and by an admirable wittiness of language, was in the next +generation adopted by no one but Lacydes; but subsequently +it was perfected by Carneades, who was the fourth in succession +from Arcesilas; for he was the pupil of Hegesinus, who +had been the pupil of Evander, the disciple of Lacydes, and +Lacydes himself had been the pupil of Arcesilas; but Carneades +maintained it for a long time, for he lived ninety years; +and those who had been his pupils had a very high reputation, +of whom Clitomachus displayed the most industry, as +the number of books which he composed testifies; nor was +there less brilliancy of genius in him than there was of eloquence +in Charmadas, or of sweetness in Melanthius of Rhodes. +<pb n='031'/><anchor id='Pg031'/> +But Metrodorus of Stratonice was thought to be the one who +had the most thorough understanding of Carneades. And +your friend Philo attended the lectures of Clitomachus for +many years; but as long as Philo was alive the Academy was +never in want of a head. +</p> + +<p> +But the business that we now propose to ourselves, of arguing +against the Academicians, appears to some philosophers, +and those, too, men of no ordinary calibre, to be a thing that +ought not to be done at all; and they think that there is no +sense at all in, and no method of disputing with men who +approve of nothing; and they blame Antipater, the Stoic, +who was very fond of doing so, and say that there is no need +of laying down exact definitions of what knowledge is, or perception, +or, if we want to render word for word, comprehension, +which they call κατάληψις; and they say that those who wish +to persuade men that there is anything which can be comprehended +and perceived, are acting ignorantly; because there +is nothing clearer than ἐνάργεια, as the Greeks call it, and +which we may call perspicuity, or evidentness if you like,—coining +words, if you will permit us to do so, that this fellow +(meaning me) may not think that he is the only person to +whom such liberties are permitted. Still they thought that +no discourse could be found which should be more intelligible +than evidentness itself; and they thought that there +was no need of defining things which were so clear. +</p> + +<p> +But others declared that they would never be the first to +speak in behalf of this evidentness; but they thought that a +reply ought to be made to those arguments which were advanced +against it, to prevent any one being deceived by them. +There are also many men who do not disapprove of the definitions +of the evident things themselves, and who think the +subject one worthy of being inquired into, and the men +worthy of being argued with. +</p> + +<p> +But Philo, while he raises some new questions, because he +was scarcely able to withstand the things which were said +against the obstinacy of the Academicians, speaks falsely, +without disguise, as he was reproached for doing by the elder +Catulus; and also, as Antiochus told him, falls into the very +trap of which he was afraid. For as he asserted that there +was nothing which could be comprehended, (for that is what +we conceive to be meant by ἀκατάληπτος,) if that was, as Zeno +defined it, such a perception, (for we have already spent time +<pb n='032'/><anchor id='Pg032'/> +enough yesterday in beating out a word for φαντασία,) then a +perception was extracted and produced out of that from which +it originated, such as could be produced from that from which +it did not originate. And we say that this matter was most +excellently defined by Zeno; for how can anything be comprehended, +so that you may feel absolutely sure that it has +been perceived and known, which is of such a character that +it is even possible that it may be false? Now when Philo +upsets and denies this, he takes away also all distinction +between what is known and unknown; from which it follows +that nothing can be comprehended; and so, without intending +it, he is brought back to the point he least intended. +Wherefore, all this discourse against the Academy is undertaken +by us in order that we may retain that definition which +Philo wished to overturn; and unless we succeed in that, we +grant that nothing can be perceived. +</p> + +<p> +VII. Let us begin then with the senses—the judgments of +which are so clear and certain, that if an option were given +to our nature, and if some god were to ask of it whether it is +content with its own unimpaired and uncorrupted senses, or +whether it desires something better, I do not see what more +it could ask for. Nor while speaking on this topic need you +wait while I reply to the illustration drawn from a bent oar, or +the neck of a dove; for I am not a man to say that everything +which seems is exactly of that character of which it +seems to be. Epicurus may deal with this idea, and with +many others; but in my opinion there is the very greatest +truth in the senses, if they are in sound and healthy order, +and if everything is removed which could impede or hinder +them. Therefore we often wish the light to be changed, or +the situation of those things which we are looking at; and +we either narrow or enlarge distances; and we do many +things until our sight causes us to feel confidence in our +judgment. And the same thing takes place with respect to +sounds, and smell, and taste, so that there is not one of us +who, in each one of his senses, requires a more acute judgment +as to each sort of thing. +</p> + +<p> +But when practice and skill are added, so that one's eyes +are charmed by a picture, and one's ears by songs, who is +there who can fail to see what great power there is in the +senses? How many things do painters see in shadows and in +projections which we do not see? How many beauties which +<pb n='033'/><anchor id='Pg033'/> +escape us in music are perceived by those who are practised in +that kind of accomplishment? men who, at the first note of the +flute-player, say,—That is the Antiope, or the Andromache, +when we have not even a suspicion of it. There is no need for +me to speak of the faculties of taste or smell; organs in which +there is a degree of intelligence, however faulty it may be. +Why should I speak of touch, and of that kind of touch which +philosophers call the inner one, I mean the touch of pleasure +or pain? in which alone the Cyrenaics think that there is any +judgment of the truth, because pleasure or pain are felt. Can +any one then say that there is no difference between a man who +is in pain and a man who is in pleasure? or can any one think +that a man who entertains this opinion is not flagrantly mad? +</p> + +<p> +But such as those things are which we say are perceived by +the senses, such also are those things which are said to be +perceived, not by the senses themselves, but by the senses +after a fashion; as these things—that is white, this is sweet, +that is tuneful, this is fragrant, that is rough. We have +these ideas already comprehended by the mind, not by the +senses. Again, this is a house, that is a dog. Then the rest +of the series follows, connecting the more important links; +such as these, which embrace, as it were, the full comprehension +of things;—If he is a man, he is a mortal animal partaking +of reason:—from which class of arguments the notions +of things are impressed upon us, without which nothing can +be understood, nor inquired into, nor discussed. But if those +notions were false, (for you seemed to me to translate ἔννοιαι +<emph>notions</emph>,) if, I say, they were false, or impressed, or perceptions +of such a kind as not to be able to be distinguished from +false ones; then I should like to know how we were to use +them? and how we were to see what was consistent with +each thing and what was inconsistent with it? Certainly no +room at all is here left for memory, which of all qualities is +the one that most completely contains, not only philosophy, +but the whole practice of life, and all the arts. For what +memory can there be of what is false? or what does any one +remember which he does not comprehend and hold in his +mind? And what art can there be except that which consists +not of one, nor of two, but of many perceptions of +the mind? and if you take these away, how are you to distinguish +the artist from the ignorant man? For we must not +<pb n='034'/><anchor id='Pg034'/> +say at random that this man is an artist, and deny that that +man is; but we must only do so when we see that the one +retains the things which he has perceived and comprehended, +and that the other does not. And as some arts are of that +kind that one can only see the fact in one's mind, others +such that one can design and effect something, how can a +geometrician perceive those things which have no existence, +or which cannot be distinguished from what is false? or how +can he who plays on the lyre complete his rhythm, and finish +verses? And the same will be the case with respect to similar +arts, whose whole work consists in acting and in effecting +something. For what is there that can be effected by art, +unless the man who exercises the art has many perceptions? +</p> + +<p> +VIII. And most especially does the knowledge of virtues +confirm the assertion that many things can be perceived and +comprehended. And in those things alone do we say that +science exists; which we consider to be not a mere comprehension +of things, but one that is firm and unchangeable; and +we consider it also to be wisdom, the art of living which, by +itself, derives consistency from itself. But if that consistency +has no perception or knowledge about it, then I ask whence +it has originated and how? I ask also, why that good man +who has made up his mind to endure every kind of torture, +to be torn by intolerable pain, rather than to betray his duty +or his faith, has imposed on himself such bitter conditions, +when he has nothing comprehended, perceived, known, or +established, to lead him to think that he is bound to do so? +It cannot, then, by any possibility be the case that any one +should estimate equity and good faith so highly as to shrink +from no punishment for the sake of preserving them, unless +he has assented to those facts which cannot be false. But as +to wisdom itself, if it be ignorant of its own character, and if +it does not know whether it be wisdom or not, in the first place, +how is it to obtain its name of wisdom? Secondly, how will it +venture to undertake any exploit, or to perform it with confidence, +when it has nothing certain to follow? But when it +doubts what is the chief and highest good, being ignorant to +what everything is referred, how can it be wisdom? +</p> + +<p> +And that also is manifest, that it is necessary that there +should be laid down in the first place a principle which wisdom +may follow when it begins to act; and that principle must be +<pb n='035'/><anchor id='Pg035'/> +adapted to nature. For otherwise, the desire, (for that is +how I translate ὁρμὴ,) by which we are impelled to act, and +by which we desire what has been seen, cannot be set in +motion. But that which sets anything in motion must first +be seen and trusted, which cannot be the case if that which +is seen cannot be distinguished from what is false. But how +can the mind be moved to desire anything, if it cannot be +perceived whether that which is seen is adapted to nature or +inconsistent with it? +</p> + +<p> +And again, if it does not occur to a man's mind what his +duty is, he will actually never do anything, he will never be +excited to any action, he will never be moved. But if he +ever is about to do anything, then it is necessary that +that which occurs to him must appear to him to be true. +What! But if those things are true, is the whole of reason, +which is, as it were, the light and illumination of life, +put an end to? And still will you persist in that wrong-headedness? +For it is reason which has brought men the +beginning of inquiry, which has perfected virtue, after reason +herself had been confirmed by inquiry. But inquiry is the +desire of knowledge; and the end of inquiry is discovery. +But no one can discover what is false; nor can those things +which continue uncertain be discovered. But when those things +which have, as it were, been under a veil, are laid open, then they +are said to be discovered; and so reason contains the beginning +of inquiry, and the end of perceiving and comprehending. +Therefore the conclusion of an argument, which in Greek is +called ἀπόδειξις, is thus defined:—Reason, which leads one from +facts which are perceived, to that which was not perceived. +</p> + +<p> +IX. But if all things which are seen were of that sort that +those men say they are, so that they either could possibly +be false, or that no discernment could distinguish whether +they were false or not, then how could we say that any +one had either formed any conclusion, or discovered anything? +Or what trust could be placed in an argument when +brought to a conclusion? And what end will philosophy itself +have, which is bound to proceed according to reason? And +what will become of wisdom? which ought not to doubt +about its own character, nor about its decrees, which philosophers +call δόγματα; none of which can be betrayed without +wickedness. For when a decree is betrayed, the law of truth +<pb n='036'/><anchor id='Pg036'/> +and right is betrayed too. From which fault betrayals of +friendships and of republics often originate. It cannot, therefore +be doubted, that no rule of wisdom can possibly be +false; and it ought not to be enough for the wise man that it +is not false, but it ought also to be steady, durable, and lasting; +such as no arguments can shake. But none can either +be, or appear such, according to the principle of those men +who deny that those perceptions in which all rules originate +are in any respect different from false ones; and from this +assertion arose the demand which was repeated by Hortensius, +that you would at least allow that the fact that +nothing can be perceived has been perceived by the wise +man. But when Antipater made the same demand, and +argued that it was unavoidable that the man who affirmed +that nothing could be perceived should nevertheless admit +that this one thing could be perceived,—namely, that nothing +else could,—Carneades resisted him with great shrewdness. For +he said that this admission was so far from being consistent +with the doctrine asserted, that it was above all others incompatible +with it: for that a man who denied that there was +anything which could be perceived excepted nothing. And +so it followed of necessity, that even that very thing which +was not excepted, could not be comprehended and perceived +in any possible manner. +</p> + +<p> +Antiochus, on this topic, seems to press his antagonist more +closely. For since the Academicians adopted that rule, (for +you understand that I am translating by this word what they +call δόγμα,) that nothing can be perceived, he urged that they +ought not to waver in their rule as in other matters, especially +as the whole of their philosophy consisted in it: for that the +fixing of what is true and false, known and unknown, is the +supreme law of all philosophy. And since they adopted this +principle, and wished to teach what ought to be received by +each individual, and what rejected, undoubtedly, said he, +they ought to perceive this very thing from which the +whole judgment of what is true and false arises. He urged, +in short, that there were these two principal objects in +philosophy, the knowledge of truth, and the attainment of +the chief good; and that a man could not be wise who was +ignorant of either the beginning of knowledge, or of the end +of desire, so as not to know either where to start from, or +<pb n='037'/><anchor id='Pg037'/> +whither to seek to arrive at. But that to feel in doubt on these +points, and not to have such confidence respecting them as to +be unable to be shaken, is utterly incompatible with wisdom. +</p> + +<p> +In this manner, therefore, it was more fitting to demand of +them that they should at least admit that this fact was perceived, +namely, that nothing could be perceived. But enough, +I imagine, has been said of the inconsistency of their whole +opinion, if, indeed, you can say that a man who approves of +nothing has any opinion at all. +</p> + +<p> +X. The next point for discussion is one which is copious +enough, but rather abstruse; for it touches in some points +on natural philosophy, so that I am afraid that I may +be giving the man who will reply to me too much liberty +and licence. For what can I think that he will do about +abstruse and obscure matters, who seeks to deprive us of all +light? But one might argue with great refinement the question,—with +how much artificial skill, as it were, nature has +made, first of all, every animal; secondly, man most especially;—how +great the power of the senses is; in what manner things +seen first affect us; then, how the desires, moved by these +things, followed; and, lastly, in what manner we direct our +senses to the perception of things. For the mind itself, which +is the source of the senses, and which itself is sense, has a +natural power, which it directs towards those things by which +it is moved. Therefore it seizes on other things which are +seen in such a manner as to use them at once; others it +stores up; and from these memory arises: but all other +things it arranges by similitudes, from which notions of +things are engendered; which the Greeks call, at one time +ἔννοιαι, and at another προλήψεις. And when to this there is +added reason and the conclusion of the argument, and a +multitude of countless circumstances, then the perception of +all those things is manifest, and the same reason, being made +perfect by these steps, arrives at wisdom. +</p> + +<p> +As, therefore, the mind of man is admirably calculated for +the science of things and the consistency of life, it embraces +knowledge most especially. And it loves that κατάληψις, +(which we, as I have said, will call <emph>comprehension</emph>, translating +the word literally,) for its own sake, (for there is nothing +more sweet than the light of truth,) and also because of its +use; on which account also it uses the senses, and creates +<pb n='038'/><anchor id='Pg038'/> +arts, which are, as it were, second senses; and it strengthens +philosophy itself to such a degree that it creates virtue, to +which single thing all life is subordinate. Therefore, those +men who affirm that nothing can be comprehended, take away +by their assertion all these instruments or ornaments of life; +or rather, I should say, utterly overturn the whole of life, and +deprive the animal itself of mind (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>animo</foreign>), +so that it is difficult +to speak of their rashness as the merits of the case require. +</p> + +<p> +Nor can I sufficiently make out what their ideas or intentions +really are. For sometimes, when we address them with +this argument,—that if the doctrines which we are upholding +are not true, then everything must be uncertain: they reply,—Well, +what is that to us? is that our fault? blame nature, +who, as Democritus says, has buried truth deep in the bottom +of the sea. +</p> + +<p> +But others defend themselves more elegantly, who complain +also that we accuse them of calling everything uncertain; +and they endeavour to explain how much difference +there is between what is uncertain and what cannot be perceived, +and to make a distinction between them. Let us, +then, now deal with those who draw this distinction, and let +us abandon, as incurable and desperate, those who say that +everything is as uncertain as whether the number of the stars +be odd or even. For they contend, (and I noticed that you +were especially moved by this,) that there is something probable, +and, as I may say, likely; and that they adopt that +likelihood as a rule in steering their course of life, and in +making inquiries and conducting discussions. +</p> + +<p> +XI. But what rule can there be, if we have no notion whatever +of true or false, because it is impossible to distinguish +one from the other? For, if we have such a notion, then +there must be a difference between what is true and what is +false, as there is between what is right and what is wrong. If +there is no difference, then there is no rule; nor can a man +to whom what is true and what is false appear under one +common aspect, have any means of judging of, or any mark +at all by which he can know the truth. For when they say, +that they take away nothing but the idea of anything being +able to appear in such a manner that it cannot possibly +appear false in the same manner but that they admit everything +else, they are acting childishly. For though they have +<pb n='039'/><anchor id='Pg039'/> +taken away that by which everything is judged of, they deny +that they take away the rest; just as if a person were to deprive +a man of his eyes, and then say that he has not taken +away from him those things which can be seen. For just as +those things are known by the eyes, so are the other things +known by the perceptions; but by a mark belonging peculiarly +to truth, and not common to what is true and false. +</p> + +<p> +Wherefore, whether you bring forward a perception which +is merely probable, or one which is at once probable and +free from all hindrance, as Carneades contended, or anything +else that you may follow, you will still have to return to that +perception of which we are treating. But in it, if there be +but one common characteristic of what is false and true, there +will be no judgment possible, because nothing peculiar can be +noted in one sign common to two things: but if there be no +such community, then I have got what I want; for I am +seeking what appears to me to be so true, that it cannot possibly +appear false. +</p> + +<p> +They are equally mistaken when, being convicted and overpowered +by the force of truth, they wish to distinguish between +what is evident and what is perceived, and endeavour +to prove that there is something evident,—being a truth impressed +on the mind and intellect,—and yet that it cannot be +perceived and comprehended. For how can you say distinctly +that anything is white, when it may happen that that which is +black may appear white? Or how are we to call those things +evident, or to say that they are impressed faithfully on the +mind, when it is uncertain whether it is really moved or only +in an illusory manner? And so there is neither colour, nor +body, nor truth, nor argument, nor sense, nor anything certain +left us. And, owing to this, it frequently happens that, whatever +they say, they are asked by some people,—Do you, then, +perceive that? But they who put this question to them are +laughed at by them; for they do not press them hard enough +so as to prove that no one can insist upon any point, or make +any positive assertion, without some certain and peculiar +mark to distinguish that thing which each individual says +that he is persuaded of. +</p> + +<p> +What, then, is this probability of yours? For if that which +occurs to every one, and which, at its first look, as it were, +appears probable, is asserted positively, what can be more +<pb n='040'/><anchor id='Pg040'/> +trifling? But if your philosophers say that they, after a certain +degree of circumspection and careful consideration, adopt +what they have seen as such, still they will not be able to +escape from us. First of all, because credit is equally taken +from all these things which are seen, but between which there +is no difference; secondly, when they say that it can happen +to a wise man, that after he has done everything, and exercised +the most diligent circumspection, there may still be +something which appears probable, and which yet is very far removed +from being true,—how can they then trust themselves, +even if they (to use their own expression) approach truth for +the most part, or even if they come as near to it as possible? +For, in order to trust themselves, the distinctive mark of +truth ought to be thoroughly known to them; and if that be +obscure or concealed, what truth is there which they can seem +to themselves to arrive at? And what can be so absurd a +thing to say as,—This indeed is a sign of that thing, or a proof +of it, and on that account I follow it; but it is possible that +that which is indicated may either be false, or may actually +have no existence at all? +</p> + +<p> +XII. However, we have said enough about perception. For +if any one wishes to invalidate what has been said, truth will +easily defend itself, even if we are absent. +</p> + +<p> +These things, then, which have now been explained, being +sufficiently understood, we will proceed to say a little on the +subject of assent and approbation, which the Greeks call +συγκατάθεσις. Not that the subject itself is not an extensive +one, but because the foundations have been already laid a +little while ago. For when we were explaining what power +there was in the senses, this point was at the same time established, +that many things were comprehended and perceived +by the senses, which is a thing which cannot take place +without assent. Secondly, as this is the principal difference +between an inanimate and an animated being, that the inanimate +being does nothing, but the animated one does +something (for it is impossible even to imagine what kind of +animal that can be which does nothing)—either sense must be +taken from it, or else assent (which is wholly in our own +power) must be given. But mind is in some degree denied to +those beings whom they will not allow either to feel or to +assent. For as it is inevitable that one scale of a balance +<pb n='041'/><anchor id='Pg041'/> +must be depressed when a weight is put in it, so the mind, +too, must yield to what is evident; for just as it is impossible +for any animal to forbear discerning what is manifestly suited +to its nature (the Greeks call that οἰκεῖον), so it is equally +impossible for it to withhold its assent to a manifest fact +which is brought under its notice. +</p> + +<p> +Although, if those principles which we have been maintaining +are true, there is no advantage whatever in discussing +assent. For he who perceives anything, assents immediately. +But these inferences also follow,—that memory can have no +existence without assent, no more can notions of things or +arts. And what is most important of all is, that, although +some things may be in our power, yet they will not be in the +power of that man who assents to nothing. Where, then, is +virtue, if nothing depends on ourselves? But it is above all +things absurd that vices should be in the power of the agents, +and that no one should do wrong except by deliberate consent +to do so, and yet that this should not be the case with +virtue; all the consistency and firmness of which depends on +the things to which it has assented, and which it has approved. +And altogether it is necessary that something should +be perceived before we act, and before we assent to what is +perceived; wherefore, he who denies the existence of perception +or assent, puts an end to all action in life. +</p> + +<p> +XIII. Now let us examine the arguments which are commonly +advanced by this school in opposition to these principles. +But, first of all, you have it in your power to become acquainted +with what I may call the foundations of their system. +They then, first of all, compound a sort of art of those things +which we call perceptions, and define their power and kinds; +and at the same time they explain what the character of that +thing which can be perceived and comprehended is, in the +very same words as the Stoics. In the next place, they +explain those two principles, which contain, as it were, the +whole of this question; and which appear in such a manner +that even others may appear in the same, nor is there any +difference between them, so that it is impossible that some of +them should be perceived, and that others should not be perceived; +but that it makes no difference, not only if they are +in every part of the same character, but even if they cannot +be distinguished. +</p> + +<pb n='042'/><anchor id='Pg042'/> + +<p> +And when these principles are laid down, then these men +comprehend the whole cause in the conclusion of one argument. +But this conclusion, thus compounded, runs in this +way: <q>Of the things which are seen, some are true and some +are false; and what is false cannot be perceived, but that +which appears to be true is all of such a character that a +thing of the same sort may seem to be also false. And as to +those things which are perceived being of such a sort that +there is no difference between them, it cannot possibly happen +that some of them can be perceived, and that others cannot; +there is, then, nothing seen which can really be perceived.</q> +</p> + +<p> +But of the axioms which they assume, in order to draw the +conclusions which they desire, they think that two ought to be +granted to them; for no one objects to them. They are these: +<q>That those perceptions which are false, cannot really be perceived;</q> +and the second is—<q>Of those perceptions between +which there is no difference, it is impossible that some should +be of such a character that they can be perceived, and others +of such a character that they cannot.</q> +</p> + +<p> +But their other propositions they defend by numerous and +varied arguments, and they likewise are two in number. One +is—<q>Of those things which appear, some are true and others +false;</q> the other is—<q>Every perception which originates in +the truth, is of such a character as it might be of, though +originating in what is false.</q> And these two propositions +they do not pass by, but they expand in such a manner as to +show no slight degree of care and diligence. For they divide +them into parts, and those also large parts; first of all into +the senses, then into those things which are derived from the +senses, and from universal custom, the authority of which +they wish to invalidate. Then they come to the point of +laying it down that nothing can be perceived even by reason +and conjecture. And these universal propositions they cut up +into more minute parts. For as in our yesterday's discussion +you saw that they acted with respect to the senses, so do +they also act with respect to everything else. And in each +separate thing which they divide into the most minute parts, +they wish to make out that all these true perceptions have +often false ones added to them, which are in no respect different +from the true ones; and that, as they are of such a +character, nothing can be comprehended. +</p> + +<pb n='043'/><anchor id='Pg043'/> + +<p> +XIV. Now all this subtlety I consider indeed thoroughly +worthy of philosophy, but still wholly unconnected with the +case which they advocate who argue thus. For definitions, +and divisions, and a discourse which employs these ornaments, +and also similarities and dissimilarities, and the subtle +and fine-drawn distinctions between them, belong to men +who are confident that those arguments which they are upholding +are true, and firm, and certain; and not to men who +assert loudly that those things are no more true than false. +For what would they do if, after they had defined anything, +some one were to ask them whether that definition could +be transferred to something else? If they said it could, +then what reason could they give why it should be a true +definition? If they said no,—then it must be confessed, since +that definition of what is true cannot be transferred to what +is false, that that which is explained by that definition can be +perceived; which is the last thing they mean. +</p> + +<p> +The same thing may be said on every article of the division. +For if they say that they see clearly the things about +which they are arguing, and they cannot be hindered by any +similarity of appearance, then they will confess that they are +able to comprehend those things. But if they affirm that true +perceptions cannot be distinguished from false ones, how can +they go any further? For the same objections will be made +to them which have been made already; for an argument +cannot be concluded, unless the premises which are taken to +deduce the conclusion from are so established that nothing of +the same kind can be false. +</p> + +<p> +Therefore, if reason, relying on things comprehended and +perceived, and advancing in reliance on them, establishes the +point that nothing can be comprehended, what can be found +which can be more inconsistent with itself? And as the very +nature of an accurate discourse professes that it will develop +something which is not apparent, and that, in order the more +easily to succeed in its object, it will employ the senses and +those things which are evident, what sort of discourse is +that which is uttered by those men who insist upon it that +everything has not so much an existence as a mere appearance? +</p> + +<p> +But they are convicted most of all when they assume, as +consistent with each other, these two propositions which are +<pb n='044'/><anchor id='Pg044'/> +so utterly incompatible: first of all,—That there are some +false perceptions;—and in asserting this they declare also that +there are some which are true: and secondly, they add at the +same time,—That there is no difference between true perceptions +and false ones. But you assumed the first proposition +as if there were some difference; and so the latter proposition +is inconsistent with the former, and the former with the +latter. +</p> + +<p> +But let us proceed further, and act so as in no respect to +seem to be flattering ourselves; and let us follow up what is +said by them, in such a manner as to allow nothing to be +passed over. +</p> + +<p> +In the first place, then, that evidentness which we have +mentioned has sufficiently great power of itself to point out +to us the things which are just as they are. But still, in order +that we may remain with firmness and constancy in our trust +in what is evident, we have need of a greater degree of either +skill or diligence, in order not, by some sort of juggling or +trick, to be driven away from those things which are clear +of themselves. For Epicurus, who wished to remedy those +errors, which seem to perplex one's knowledge of the truth, +and who said that it was the duty of a wise man to separate +opinion from evident knowledge, did no good at all; for he +did not in the least remove the errors of opinion itself. +</p> + +<p> +XV. Wherefore, as there are two causes which oppose what +is manifest and evident, it is necessary also to provide oneself +with an equal number of aids. For this is the first obstacle, +that men do not sufficiently exert and fix their minds upon +those things which are evident, so as to be able to understand +how great the light is with which they are surrounded. The +second is, that some men, being deluded and deceived by fallacious +and captious interrogatories, when they cannot clear +them up, abandon the truth. It is right, therefore, for us to +have those answers ready which may be given in defence of +the evidentness of a thing,—and we have already spoken of +them,—and to be armed, in order to be able to encounter the +questions of those people, and to scatter their captious objections +to the winds: and this is what I propose to do next. +</p> + +<p> +I will, therefore, explain their arguments one by one; since +even they themselves are in the habit of speaking in a sufficiently +lucid manner. +</p> + +<pb n='045'/><anchor id='Pg045'/> + +<p> +In the first place, they endeavour to show that many things +can appear to exist, which in reality have no existence; when +minds are moved to no purpose by things which do not exist, +in the same manner as by things that do. For when you say +(say they) that some visions are sent by God, as those, for +instance, which are seen during sleep, and those also which +are revealed by oracles, and auspices, and the entrails of victims, +(for they say that the Stoics, against whom they are +arguing, admit all these things,) they ask how God can make +those things probable which appear to be false; and how it +is that He cannot make those appear so which plainly come +as near as possible to truth? Or if He can likewise make +those appear probable, why He cannot make the others appear +so too, which are only with great difficulty distinguished from +them? And if He can make these appear so, then why He +cannot also make those things appear so which are absolutely +different in no respect whatever? +</p> + +<p> +In the next place, since the mind is moved by itself,—as those +things which we picture to ourselves in thought, and those +which present themselves to the sight of madmen or sleeping +men declare,—is it not, say they, probable that the mind is also +moved in such a manner, that not only it does not distinguish +between the perceptions, as to whether they be true or false, +but that there really is no difference between them? As, for +instance, if any men of their own accord trembled and grew +pale, on account of some agitation of mind, or because some +terrible object came upon them from without, there would be +no means of distinguishing one trembling and paleness from +the other, nor indeed would there be any difference between +the external and internal alarm which caused them. +</p> + +<p> +Lastly, if no perceptions are probable which are false, then +we must seek for other principles; but if they are probable, +then why may not one say the same of such as are not easily +distinguished from one another? Why not also of such as +have actually no difference at all between them? Especially +when you yourselves say that the wise man when enraged +withholds himself from all assent, because there is no distinction +between his perceptions which is visible to him. +</p> + +<p> +XVI. Now on all these empty perceptions Antiochus +brought forward a great many arguments, and one whole day +was occupied in the discussion of this subject. But I do not +<pb n='046'/><anchor id='Pg046'/> +think that I ought to adopt the same course, but merely to +give the heads of what he said. +</p> + +<p> +And in the first place, they are blameable in this, that they +use a most captious kind of interrogation. And the system +of adding or taking away, step by step, minute items from a +proposition, is a kind of argument very little to be approved +of in philosophy. They call it sorites,<note place='foot'>From +σωρὸς, a heap.</note> when they make up a +heap by adding grain after grain; a very vicious and captious +style of arguing. For you mount up in this way:—If a +vision is brought by God before a man asleep of such a nature +as to be probable (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>probabile</foreign>), +why may not one also be brought of such a nature as to be +very like truth (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>verisimile</foreign>)? If so, +then why may not one be brought which can hardly be distinguished +from truth? If so, then why may there not be +one which cannot be distinguished at all? If so, then why +may there not be such that there is actually no difference +between them?—If you come to this point because I have +granted you all the previous propositions, it will be my fault; +but if you advance thither of your own accord, it will be +yours. For who will grant to you either that God can do +everything, or that even if He could He would act in that +manner? And how do you assume that if one thing may be +like another, it follows that it may also be difficult to distinguish +between them? And then, that one cannot distinguish +between them at all? And lastly, that they are identical? +So that if wolves are like dogs, you will come at last to +asserting that they are the same animals. And indeed there +are some things not honourable, which are like things that +are honourable; some things not good, like those that are +good; some things proceeding on no system, like others which +are regulated by system. Why then do we hesitate to affirm +that there is no difference between all these things? Do we +not even see that they are inconsistent? For there is +nothing that can be transferred from its own genus to +another. But if such a conclusion did follow, as that there +was no difference between perceptions of different genera, but +that some could be found which were both in their own genus +and in one which did not belong to them, how could that be +possible? +</p> + +<p> +There is then one means of getting rid of all unreal perceptions, +<pb n='047'/><anchor id='Pg047'/> +whether they be formed in the ideas, which we +grant to be usually the case, or whether they be owing to +idleness, or to wine, or to madness. For we say that clearness, +which we ought to hold with the greatest tenacity, is +absent from all visions of that kind. For who is there who, +when he imagines something and pictures it to himself in his +thoughts, does not, as soon as he has stirred up himself, and +recovered himself, feel how much difference there is between +what is evident and what is unreal? The case of dreams is +the same. Do you think that Ennius, when he had been +walking in his garden with Sergius Galba, his neighbour, said +to himself,—I have seemed to myself to be walking with +Galba? But when he had a dream, he related it in this way,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +The poet Homer seem'd to stand before me. +</quote> + +<p> +And again in his Epicharmus he says— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +For I seem'd to be dreaming, and laid in the tomb. +</quote> + +<p> +Therefore, as soon as we are awakened, we despise those things +which we have seen, and do not regard them as we do the +things which we have done in the forum. +</p> + +<p> +XVII. But while these visions are being beheld, they +assume the same appearance as those things which we see +while awake. There is a good deal of real difference between +them; but we may pass over that. For what we assert is, +that there is not the same power or soundness in people when +asleep that there is in them while waking, either in intellect +or in sensation. What even drunken men do, they do not do +with the same deliberate approbation as sober men. They +doubt, they hesitate, they check themselves at times, and +give but a feeble assent to what they see or agree too. And +when they have slept off their drunkenness, then they understand +how unreal their perceptions were. And the same +thing is the case with madmen; that when their madness is +beginning, they both feel and say that something appears to +them to exist that has no real existence. And when their +frenzy abates, they feel and speak like Alcmæon;— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>But now my heart does not agree</l> +<l>With that which with my eyes I see.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +But even in madness the wise man puts restraint upon himself, +so far as not to approve of what is false as if it were +true. And he does so often at other times, if there is by +<pb n='048'/><anchor id='Pg048'/> +chance any heaviness or slowness in his senses, or if those +things which are seen by him are rather obscure, or if he is +prevented from thoroughly examining them by the shortness of +the time. Although the whole of this fact, that the wise man +sometimes suspends his assent, makes against you. For if +there were no difference between his perceptions, he would +either suspend it always or never. +</p> + +<p> +But from the whole character of this discussion we may +see the worthless nature of the argument of those men who +wish to throw everything into confusion. We want judgment, +marked with gravity, consistency, firmness, and wisdom: and +we use the examples of men dreaming, mad, or drunk. I press +this point, that in all this discussion we are speaking with +great inconsistency. For we should not bring forward men +sunk in wine or sleep, or deprived of sense, in such an absurd +manner as at one time to say there is a difference between +the perceptions of men awake and sober and sensible, and +those of men in a different condition, and at other times that +there was no difference at all. +</p> + +<p> +They do not even perceive that by this kind of argument +they are making out everything to be uncertain, which they +do not wish to do. I call that uncertain which the Greeks +call ἄδηλον. For if the fact be that there is no difference +between the appearance that a thing presents to a madman +and to a person in his senses, then who can feel quite sure of +his own sanity? And to wish to produce such an effect as +that is a proof of no ordinary madness. But they follow up +in a childish manner the likenesses of twins, or of impressions +of rings. For who of us denies that there are such things as +likenesses, when they are visible in numbers of things? But +if the fact of many things being like many other things is +sufficient to take away knowledge, why are you not content +with that, especially as we admit it? And why do you rather +insist upon that assertion which the nature of things will not +suffer, that everything is not in its own kind of that character +of which it really is? and that there is a conformity without +any difference whatever in two or more things; so that +eggs are entirely like eggs, and bees like bees? What then +are you contending for? or what do you seek to gain by +talking about twins? For it is granted that they are alike; +and you might be content with that. But you try to make +<pb n='049'/><anchor id='Pg049'/> +them out to be actually the same, and not merely alike; and +that is quite impossible. +</p> + +<p> +Then you have recourse to those natural philosophers who +are so greatly ridiculed in the Academy, but whom you will +not even now desist from quoting. And you tell us that +Democritus says that there are a countless number of worlds, +and that there are some which are not only so like one +another, but so completely and absolutely equal in every +point, that there is no difference whatever between them, and +that they are quite innumerable; and so also are men. Then +you require that, if the world be so entirely equal to another +world that there is absolutely not the slightest difference +between them, we should grant to you that in this world of +ours also there must be something exactly equal to something +else, so that there is no difference whatever or distinction +between them. For why, you will say, since there not only +can be, but actually are innumerable Quinti Lutatii Catuli +formed out of those atoms, from which Democritus affirms +that everything is produced, in all the other worlds, which +are likewise innumerable,—why may not there be a second +Catulus formed in this identical world of ours, since it is of +such a size as we see it? +</p> + +<p> +XVIII. First of all I reply, that you are bringing me to +the arguments of Democritus, with whom I do not agree. +And I will the more readily refute them, on account of that +doctrine which is laid down very clearly by the more refined +natural philosophers, that everything has its own separate +property. For grant that those ancient Servilii who were +twins were as much alike as they are said to have been, do +you think that that would have made them the same? They +were not distinguished from one another out of doors, but +they were at home. They were not distinguished from one +another by strangers, but they were by their own family. Do +we not see that this is frequently the case, that those people +whom we should never have expected to be able to know from +one another, we do by practice distinguish so easily that they +do not appear to be even in the least alike? +</p> + +<p> +Here, however, you may struggle; I will not oppose you. +Moreover, I will grant that that very wise man who is the +subject of all this discussion, when things like one another +come under his notice, in which he has not remarked any +<pb n='050'/><anchor id='Pg050'/> +special character, will withhold his assent, and will never +agree to any perception which is not of such a character as a +false perception can never assume. But with respect to all +other things he has a certain art by which he can distinguish +what is true from what is false; and with respect to those +similitudes he must apply the test of experience. As a mother +distinguishes between twins by the constant practice of her +eyes, so you too will distinguish when you have become +accustomed to it. Do you not see that it has become a perfect +proverb that one egg is like another? and yet we are +told that at Delos (when it was a flourishing island) there +were many people who used to keep large numbers of hens +for the sake of profit; and that they, when they had looked +upon an egg, could tell which hen had laid it. Nor does that +fact make against our argument; for it is sufficient for us to +be able to distinguish between the eggs. For it is impossible +for one to assent to the proposition that this thing is that +thing more, than by admitting that there is actually no difference +at all between the two. For I have laid it down as a +rule, to consider all perceptions true which are of such a +character as those which are false cannot be. And from this +I may not depart one finger's breadth, as they say, lest I should +throw everything into confusion. For not only the knowledge +of what is true and false, but their whole nature too, will be +destroyed if there is no difference between one and the other. +And that must be very absurd which you sometimes are in +the habit of saying, when perceptions are imprinted on the +mind, that what you say is, not that there is no difference +between the impressions, but only that there is none +between certain appearances and forms which they assume. +As if perceptions were not judged of by their appearance, +which can deserve or obtain no credit if the mark by which +we are to distinguish truth from falsehood be taken away. +</p> + +<p> +But that is a monstrous absurdity of yours, when you say +that you follow what is probable when you are not hindered +by anything from doing so. In the first place, how can you +avoid being hindered, when what is false does not differ from +what is true? Secondly, what judgment can be formed of +what is true, when what is true is undistinguishable from +what is false? From these facts there springs unavoidably +ἐποχὴ, that is to say, a suspension of assent: for which +<pb n='051'/><anchor id='Pg051'/> +Arcesilas is more consistent, if at least the opinions which +some people entertain of Carneades are correct. For if +nothing can be perceived, as they both agree in thinking, +then all assent is taken away. For what is so childish as to +talk of approving of what is not known? But even yesterday +we heard that Carneades was in the habit, at times, of descending +to say that a wise man would be guided by opinion, that +is to say, would do wrong. To me, indeed, it is not so certain +that there is anything which can be comprehended, a question +which I have now spent too much time in discussing, as +that a wise man is never guided by opinion, that is to say, +never assents to anything which is either false or unknown. +</p> + +<p> +There remains this other statement of theirs, that for the +sake of discovering the truth, one ought to speak against +every side, and in favour of every side. I wish then to see +what they have discovered. We are not in the habit, says he, +of showing that. What then is the object of all this mystery? +or why do you conceal your opinion as something discreditable? +In order, says he, that those who hear us may be +influenced by reason rather than led by authority. What +if they are influenced by both? would there be any harm in +that? However, they do not conceal one of their theories, +namely, that there is nothing which can be conceived. Is +authority no hindrance to entertaining this opinion? It seems +to me to be a great one. For who would ever have embraced +so openly and undisguisedly such perverse and false principles, +if there had not been such great richness of ideas and +power of eloquence in Arcesilas, and, in a still greater degree, +in Carneades? +</p> + +<p> +XIX. These are nearly the arguments which Antiochus +used to urge at Alexandria, and many years afterwards, with +much more positiveness too, in Syria, when he was there with +me, a little before he died. But, as my case is now established, +I will not hesitate to warn you, as you are my dearest friend, +(he was addressing me,) and one a good deal younger than +myself. +</p> + +<p> +Will you, then, after having extolled philosophy with such +panegyrics, and provoked our friend Hortensius, who disagrees +with us, now follow that philosophy which confounds +what is true with what is false, deprives us of all judgment, +strips us of the power of approval, and robs us of all +<pb n='052'/><anchor id='Pg052'/> +our senses? Even the Cimmerians, to whom some god, or +nature, or the foulness of the country that they inhabited, +had denied the light of the sun, had still some fires which +they were permitted to avail themselves of as if they were +light. But those men whom you approve of, after having +enveloped us in such darkness, have not left us a single spark +to enable us to look around by. And if we follow them, we +become bound with such chains that we cannot move. For +when assent is taken away, they take away at the same time +all motion of our minds, and all our power of action; which +not only cannot be done rightly, but which cannot possibly +be done at all. Beware, also, lest you become the only person +who is not allowed to uphold that opinion. Will you, when +you have explained the most secret matters and brought them +to light, and said on your oath that you have discovered them, +(which, indeed, I could swear to also, since I learnt them +from you,)—will you, I say, assert that there is nothing which +can be known, comprehended, or perceived? Beware, I entreat +you, lest the authority of those most beautiful actions +be diminished by your own conduct. +</p> + +<p> +And having said this he stopped. But Hortensius, admiring +all he said very greatly, (so much, indeed, that all +the time that Lucullus was speaking he kept lifting up his +hands; and it was no wonder, for I do not believe that an +argument had ever been conducted against the Academy with +more acuteness,) began to exhort me, either jestingly or seriously, +(for that was a point that I was not quite sure about,) to +abandon my opinions. Then, said Catulus, if the discourse of +Lucullus has had such influence over you,—and it has been a +wonderful exhibition of memory, accuracy, and ingenuity,—I +have nothing to say; nor do I think it my duty to try and +deter you from changing opinion if you choose. But I should +not think it well for you to be influenced merely by his +authority. For he was all but warning you, said he, jestingly, +to take care that no worthless tribune of the people, of whom +you know what a number there will always be, seize upon +you, and ask of you in the public assembly how you are consistent +with yourself, when at one time you assert that nothing +certain can be discovered, and at another time affirm that you +yourself have discovered something. I entreat you, do not +let him terrify you. But I would rather have you disagree +<pb n='053'/><anchor id='Pg053'/> +with him on the merits of the case itself. But if you give in +to him, I shall not be greatly surprised; for I recollect that +Antiochus himself, after he had entertained such opinions for +many years, abandoned them as soon as he thought it desirable. +When Catulus had said this, they all began to fix their +eyes on me. +</p> + +<p> +XX. Then I, being no less agitated than I usually am +when pleading important causes, began to speak something +after this fashion:— +</p> + +<p> +The discourse of Lucullus, O Catulus, on the matter itself, +moved me a good deal, being the discourse of a learned and +ingenious and quick-witted man, and of one who passes +over nothing which can be said for his side; but still I am +not afraid but that I may be able to answer him. But no +doubt such authority as his would have influenced me a good +deal, if you had not opposed your own to it, which is of equal +weight. I will endeavour, therefore, to reply to him after I +have said a few words in defence of my own reputation, as +it were. +</p> + +<p> +If it is by any desire of display, or any zeal for contentious +disputes, that I have been chiefly led to rank myself as an +adherent of this school of philosophy, I should think not only +my folly, but also my disposition and nature deserving of +severe censure; for if obstinacy is found fault with in the +most trifling matters, and if also calumny is repressed, should +I choose to contend with others in a quarrelsome manner +about the general condition and conduct of my whole life, or +to deceive others and also my own self? Therefore, if I did +not think it foolish in such a discussion to do what, when one +is discussing affairs of state, is sometimes done, I would swear +by Jupiter and my household gods, that I am inflamed with +a desire of discovering the truth, and that I do truly feel +what I say. For how can I avoid wishing to discover the +truth, when I rejoice if I have discovered anything resembling +the truth? But although I consider to see the truth a most +beautiful thing, so also do I think it a most disgraceful one to +approve of what is false as if it were true. Not, indeed, that +I am myself a man who never approve of anything false, +who never give assent to any such thing, and am never +guided by opinion; but we are speaking of a wise man. +But I myself am very apt to adopt opinions, for I am not a +<pb n='054'/><anchor id='Pg054'/> +wise man, and I direct my thoughts, steering not to that little +Cynosura, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>The nightly star, which shining not in vain,</l> +<l>Guides the Phœnician sailor o'er the main,</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +as Aratus says;—and those mariners steer in a more direct +course because they keep looking at the constellation, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Which in its inner course and orbit brief</l> +<l>Surely revolves;—</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +but looking rather towards Helice, and the bright north star, +that is to say, to these reasons of a more expansive kind, not +polished away to a point; and therefore I roam and wander +about in a freer course. However, the question, as I said just +now, is not about myself, but about a wise man. For when +these perceptions have made a violent impression on the +intellect and senses, I admit them, and sometimes I even +assent to them, but still I do not perceive them: for I do +not think that anything can be perceived. I am not a wise +man, therefore I submit to perceptions and cannot resist +them: but Arcesilas, being on this point in agreement with +Zeno, thinks that this is the most important part of the +power of a wise man, that he can guard against being entangled, +and provide against being deceived. For there is +nothing more incompatible with the idea which we have of +the gravity of a wise man than error, levity, and temerity. +Why, then, need I speak of the firmness of a wise man? +whom even you too, Lucullus, admit to be never guided by +mere opinion. And since this is sanctioned by you, (if I am +dealing irregularly with you at this moment, I will soon +return to the proper order of your arguments,) just consider +what force this first conclusion has. +</p> + +<p> +XXI. If the wise man ever assents to anything, he will likewise +sometimes form opinions: but he never will form +opinions: therefore he will never assent to anything. This +conclusion was approved of by Arcesilas, for it confirmed both +his first and second proposition. But Carneades sometimes +granted that minor premiss, that the wise man did at times +assent: then it followed that he also was at times guided by +opinion; which you will not allow; and you are right, as it +seems to me: but the first proposition, that the wise man, if +he expresses assent, must also be guided by opinion, is denied +by the Stoics and their follower on this point, Antiochus. +</p> + +<pb n='055'/><anchor id='Pg055'/> + +<p> +For they say that they can distinguish what is false from +what is true, and what cannot be perceived from what can. +But, in the first place, even if anything can be perceived, still +the very custom of expressing assent appears to us to be perilous +and unsure. Wherefore, as it is plain that is so faulty a +proceeding, to assent to anything that is either false or unknown, +all assent must rather be removed, lest it should rush +on into difficulties if it proceeds rashly. For what is false is +so much akin to what is true, and the things which cannot +be perceived to those which can, (if, indeed, there are any +such, for we shall examine that point presently,) that a wise +man ought not to trust himself in such a hazardous position. +</p> + +<p> +But if I assume that there is actually nothing which can +be perceived, and if I also take what you grant me, that a +wise man is never guided by opinion, then the consequence +will be that the wise man will restrain all assent on his part; +so that you must consider whether you would rather have it +so, or let the wise man sometimes form opinions. You do +not approve of either, you will say. Let us, then, endeavour +to prove that nothing can be perceived; for that is what the +whole controversy turns upon. +</p> + +<p> +XXII. But first I must say a few words to Antiochus; +who under Philo learnt this very doctrine which I am now +defending, for such a length of time, that it is certain that no +one was ever longer studying it; and who wrote on these +subjects with the greatest acuteness, and who yet attacked it +in his old age with no less energy than he had defended it in +his youth. Although therefore he may have been a shrewd +arguer, as indeed he was, still his authority is diminished by +his inconsistency. For what day, I should like to know, will +ever dawn, which shall reveal to him that distinctive characteristic +of what is true and what is false, of which for so many +years he denied the existence? Has he devised anything +new? He says the same that the Stoics say. Does he repent +of having held such an opinion? Why did he not cross over +to some other school, and especially to the Stoics? for this +disagreement with the Academy was peculiarly theirs. What? +did he repent of Mnesarchus or Dardanus, who at that time +were the chiefs of the Stoics at Athens? He never deserted +Philo till after the time when he himself began to have +pupils. +</p> + +<pb n='056'/><anchor id='Pg056'/> + +<p> +But from whence was the Old Academy on a sudden recalled? +He appears to have wished to preserve the dignity of +the name, after he had given up the reality; which however +some people said, that he did from a view to his own glory, +and that he even hoped that those who followed him might +be called Antiochians. But to me it seems, that he could not +stand that concourse of all the philosophers. In truth, there +are among them all, some common principles on the other +points; but this doctrine is peculiar to the Academicians, and +not one of the other philosophers approves of it. Therefore, +he quitted it; and, like those men who, where the new shops +stand, cannot bear the sun, so he, when he was hot, took +refuge under the shade of the Old Academicians, as those men +do under the shade of the old shops near the pillar of Mænius. +There was also an argument which he was in the habit of employing, +when he used to maintain that nothing could be +perceived; namely, asking whether Dionysius of Heraclea had +comprehended the doctrine which he had espoused for many +years, because he was guided by that certain characteristic, +and whether he believed the doctrine of his master Zeno, that +whatever was honourable was the only good; or, whether he +adopted the assertion which he defended subsequently, that +the name of honourableness is a mere phantom, and that +pleasure is the chief good: for from this change of opinion +on his part he wished to prove, that nothing can be so stamped +on our minds by the truth, that it cannot also be impressed +on them in the same manner by falsehood; and so he took +care that others should derive from his own conduct the same +argument which he himself had derived from Dionysius. +</p> + +<p> +XXIII. But we will argue this point more at length another +time; at present we will turn what has been said, +Lucullus, to you. And in the first place, let us examine the +assertion which you made at the beginning, and see what sort +of assertion it is; namely, that we spoke of the ancient philosophers +in a manner similar to that in which seditious men +were in the habit of speaking of illustrious men, who were +however friends of the people. These men do not indeed pursue +good objects, but still wish to be considered to resemble +good men; but we say that we hold those opinions, which +you yourselves confess to have been entertained by the most +illustrious philosophers. Anaxagoras said, that snow was +<pb n='057'/><anchor id='Pg057'/> +black: would you endure me if I were to say the same? You +would not bear even for me to express a doubt on the subject. +But who is this man? is he a Sophist? for by that +name were those men called, who used to philosophize for the +sake of display or of profit. The glory of the gravity and +genius of that man was great. Why should I speak of +Democritus? Who is there whom we can compare with him +for the greatness, not merely of his genius, but also of his +spirit? a man who dared to begin thus: <q>I am going to +speak of everything.</q> He excepts nothing, so as not to +profess a knowledge of it. For indeed, what could there +possibly be beyond everything? Who can avoid placing +this philosopher before Cleanthes, or Chrysippus, or all the +rest of his successors? men who, when compared with him, +appear to me to be in the fifth class. +</p> + +<p> +But he does not say this, which we, who do not deny that +there is some truth, declare cannot be perceived: he absolutely +denies that there is any truth. He says that the +senses are not merely dim, but utterly dark; for that is what +Metrodorus of Chios, who was one of his greatest admirers, +says of them, at the beginning of his book on Nature. <q>I +deny,</q> says he, <q>that we know whether we know anything or +whether we know nothing; I say that we do not even know +what is ignorance and knowledge; and that we have no +knowledge whether anything exists or whether nothing does.</q> +</p> + +<p> +Empedocles appears to you to be mad; but to me he seems +to utter words very worthy of the subjects of which he speaks. +Does he then blind us, or deprive us of our senses, if he +thinks that there is but little power in them to judge of those +things which are brought under their notice? Parmenides +and Xenophanes blame, as if they were angry with them, +though in no very poetical verses, the arrogance of those +people who, though nothing can be known, venture to say +that they know something. And you said that Socrates +and Plato were distinct from these men. Why so? Are +there any men of whom we can speak more certainly? I indeed +seem to myself to have lived with these men; so many +of their discourses have been reported, from which one +cannot possibly doubt that Socrates thought that nothing +could be known. He excepted one thing only, asserting that +he did know that he knew nothing; but he made no other +<pb n='058'/><anchor id='Pg058'/> +exception. What shall I say of Plato? who certainly would +never have followed up these doctrines in so many books if he +had not approved of them; for there was no object in going +on with the irony of the other, especially when it was so +unceasing. +</p> + +<p> +XXIV. Do I not seem to you, not, like Saturninus, to be +content with naming illustrious men, but also sometimes +even to imitate them, though never unless they are really +eminent and noble? And I might have opposed to you men +who are annoying to you, but yet disputants of great accuracy; +Stilpo, Diodorus, and Alexinus: men who indulged +in far-fetched and pointed sophisms; for that was the name +given usually to fallacious conclusions. But why need I enumerate +them, when I have Chrysippus, who is considered to +be the great support of the portico of the Stoics? How many +of the arguments against the senses, how many against everything +which is approved by ordinary practice, did he not +refute! It is true that I do not think very much of his +refutations; but still, let us grant that he did refute them. +Certainly he would never have collected so many arguments +to deceive us with their excessive probability, unless he saw +that it was not easily possible to resist them. +</p> + +<p> +What do you think of the Cyrenaic School? philosophers +far from contemptible, who affirm that there is nothing which +can be perceived externally; and that they perceive those +things alone which they feel by their inmost touch, such as +pain, or pleasure. And that they do not know what colour +anything is of, or what sound it utters; but only feel that +they themselves are affected in a certain manner. +</p> + +<p> +We have said enough about authors: although you had +asked me whether I did not think that since the time of +those ancient philosophers, in so many ages, the truth might +have been discovered, when so many men of genius and diligence +were looking for it? What was discovered we will consider +presently, and you yourself shall be the judge. But it +is easily seen that Arcesilas did not contend with Zeno for +the sake of disparaging him; but that he wished to discover +the truth. No one, I say, of preceding philosophers had said +positively, no one had even hinted that it was possible for +man never to form opinions: and that for a wise man it was +not only possible, but indispensable. The opinion of Arcesilas +<pb n='059'/><anchor id='Pg059'/> +appeared not only true, but honourable and worthy of a +wise man. +</p> + +<p> +Perhaps he asked of Zeno what would happen if a wise +man could not possibly perceive anything, and if to form +mere opinion was unworthy of a wise man? He answered, I +suppose, that the wise man never would form mere opinion, +since there were things which admitted of being perceived. +What then were they? Perceptions, I suppose. What sort +of perceptions then? In reply to this he gave a definition, +That it was such as is impressed and stamped upon and +figured in us, according to and conformably to something +which exists. Afterwards the question was asked, whether, if +such a perception was true, it was of the same character as +one that was false? Here Zeno saw clearly enough that there +was no perception that could be perceived at all, if the perception +derived from that which is, could possibly resemble +that which is derived from that which is not. +</p> + +<p> +Arcesilas was quite right in admitting this. An addition +was made to the definition; namely, That nothing false +could be perceived; nor anything true either, if it was of such +a character as that which was false. But he applied himself +diligently to these discussions, in order to prove that no perception +originated in what was true of such a kind that there +might not be a similar one originating in what was false. And +this is the one subject of controversy which has lasted to this +day. For the other doctrine, that the wise man would never +assent to anything, had nothing to do with this question. For +it was quite possible for a man to perceive nothing, and +nevertheless to be guided at times by opinion; which is said +to have been admitted by Carneades. I, indeed, trusting +rather to Clitomachus than to Philo or Metrodorus, believe +that he argued this point rather than that he admitted it. +</p> + +<p> +XXV. However, let us say no more about this. Undoubtedly, +when opinion and perception are put an end to, the +retention of every kind of assent must follow; as, if I prove +that nothing can be perceived, you would then grant that a +philosopher would never assent to anything. What is there +then that can be perceived, if even the senses do not warn us +of the truth? But you, O Lucullus, defend them by a common +topic; and to prevent you from being able to do so it was, +that I yesterday, when it was not otherwise necessary, said so +<pb n='060'/><anchor id='Pg060'/> +much against the senses. But you say that you are not at +all moved by <q>the broken oar</q> or <q>the dove's neck.</q> In the +first place, I will ask why?—for in the case of the oar, I feel +that that which appears to be the case, is not really so; and +that in the dove's neck there appear to be many colours, but +are not in reality more than one. Have we, then, said nothing +more than this? Let all our arguments stand: that man is +tearing his cause to pieces; he says that his senses are voracious. +Therefore you have always one backer who will plead +the cause at his own risk: for Epicurus brings the matter +down to this point, that if once in a man's life one of his +senses has decided wrongly, none of them is ever to be +trusted. This is what he calls being true, and confiding in +his own witnesses, and urging his proofs to their just conclusion; +therefore Timagoras the Epicurean declares, that when +he had twisted his eye with his hand, he had never seen two +flames appear out of one candle: for that the error was one +of opinion, and not one of his eyes; just as if the question +were what the fact is, and not what it appears to be. However, +he is just like his predecessors. But as for you, who say +that of the things perceived by your senses, some are true +and some false, how do you distinguish between them? +Cease, I beg of you, to employ common topics: we have plenty +of them at home. +</p> + +<p> +If any god were to ask you, while your senses are sound +and unimpaired, whether you desire anything further, what +would you answer? I wish, indeed, he would ask me! You +should hear how ill he treats us: for how far are we to look +in order to see the truth? I can see the Cumæan villa of +Catulus from this place, but not his villa near Pompeii; not +that there is any obstacle interposed, but my eyesight cannot +extend so far. What a superb view! We see Puteoli, but +we do not see our friend Avianus, though he may perhaps be +walking in the portico of Neptune; there was, however, some +one or other who is often spoken of in the Schools who could +see things that were a thousand and eighty furlongs off; and +some birds can see further still. I should therefore answer +your god boldly, that I am not at all contented with these +eyes of mine. He will tell me, perhaps, that I can see better +than some fishes; which are not seen by us, and which even +now are beneath our eyes, and yet they cannot look up far +<pb n='061'/><anchor id='Pg061'/> +enough to see us: therefore, as water is shed around them, +so a dense air is around us. But we desire nothing better. +What? do you suppose that a mole longs for light?—nor +would he complain to the god that he could not see far, but +rather that he saw incorrectly. Do you see that ship? It +appears to us to be standing still; but to those who are in +that ship, this villa appears to be moving. Seek for the reason +why it seems so, and if you discover it ever so much, and +I do not know whether you may not be able to, still you will +have proved, not that you have a trustworthy witness, but that +he has not given false evidence without sufficient reason. +</p> + +<p> +XXVI. What need had I to speak of the ship? for I saw +that what I said about the oar was despised by you; perhaps +you expect something more serious. What can be +greater than the sun, which the mathematicians affirm to be +more than eighteen times as large as the earth? How little +does it appear to us! To me, indeed, it seems about a foot +in diameter; but Epicurus thinks it possible that it may be +even less than it seems, but not much; nor does he think +that it is much greater, but that it is very near the size it +seems to be: so that our eyes are either quite correct, or, at +all events, not very incorrect. What becomes then of the +exception, <q>If once...?</q> However, let us leave this credulous +man, who does not believe that the senses are ever wrong,—not +even now, when that sun, which is borne along with +such rapidity that it is impossible even to conceive how great +its velocity is, nevertheless seems to us to be standing still. +</p> + +<p> +However, to abridge the controversy, consider, I pray you, +within what narrow bounds you are confined. There are four +principles which conduct you to the conclusion that there is +nothing which can be known, or perceived, or comprehended;—and +it is about this that the whole dispute is. The first +principle is, that some perceptions are false; the second, that +such cannot be perceived; the third, that of perceptions +between which there is no difference, it is not possible that +some of them can be perceived and that others cannot; the +fourth, that there is no true perception proceeding from the +senses, to which there is not some other perception opposed +which in no respect differs from it, and which cannot be perceived. +Now of these four principles, the second and third +are admitted by every one. Epicurus does not admit the +<pb n='062'/><anchor id='Pg062'/> +first, but you, with whom we are now arguing, admit that one +too,—the whole contest is about the fourth. +</p> + +<p> +The man, then, who saw Publius Servilius Geminus, if he +thought that he saw Quintus, fell into a perception of that +kind that could not be perceived; because what was true was +distinguished by no characteristic mark from what was false: +and if this distinctive mark were taken away, what characteristic +of the same kind could he have by which to recognise +Caius Cotta, who was twice consul with Geminus, which +could not possibly be false? You say that such a likeness as +that is not in the nature of things. You fight the question +vigorously, but you are fighting a peaceably disposed adversary. +Grant, then, that it is not; at all events, it is possible +that it should seem to be so; therefore it will deceive the +senses. And if one likeness deceives them, it will have made +everything doubtful; for when that judgment is once taken +away by which alone things can be known, then, even if the +person whom you see, be really the person whom he appears +to you to be, still you will not judge by that characteristic +which you say you ought, being of such a character that one +of the same kind cannot be false. If, therefore, it is possible +that Publius Geminus may appear to you to be Quintus, +what certainty have you that he may not appear to you to be +Cotta though he is not, since some things do appear to you +to be what they are not? You say that everything has its +own peculiar genus; that there is nothing the same as something +else. That is a stoic doctrine, and one not very credible, +for they say that there is not a single hair or a single grain +in every respect like another hair or grain. These things +could all be refuted, but I do not wish to be contentious; +for it has nothing in the world to do with the question whether +the things which are seen do not differ at all in any part, or +whether they cannot be distinguished from another even +though they do differ. But, granting that there cannot be +such a likeness between men, can there not be such between +statues? Tell me, could not Lysippus, using the same brass, +the same composition of metals, the same atmosphere, water, +and all other appliances, have made a hundred Alexanders +exactly alike? How then could you distinguish between +them? Again; if I, with this ring, make a hundred impressions +on the same piece of wax, is it possible that there +<pb n='063'/><anchor id='Pg063'/> +should be any difference to enable you to distinguish one +from the other?—or, shall you have to seek out some ring +engraver, since you have already found us a Delian poulterer +who could recognise his eggs? +</p> + +<p> +XXVII. But you have recourse to art, which you call in to +the aid of the senses. A painter sees what we do not see; +and as soon as a flute-player plays a note the air is recognised +by a musician. Well? Does not this argument seem to +tell against you, if, without great skill, such as very few persons +of our class attain to, we can neither see nor hear? +Then you give an excellent description of the skill with which +nature has manufactured our senses, and intellect, and the +whole construction of man, in order to prevent my being +alarmed at rashness of opinions. Can you also, Lucullus, +affirm that there is any power united with wisdom and prudence +which has made, or, to use your own expression, manufactured +man? What sort of a manufacture is that? Where +is it exercised? when? why? how? These points are all +handled ingeniously, they are discussed even elegantly. Let +it be said even that they appear likely; only let them not be +affirmed positively. But we will discuss natural philosophy +hereafter, and, indeed, we will do so that you, who said a little +while ago that I should speak of it, may appear not to have +spoken falsely. +</p> + +<p> +However, to come to what is clearer, I shall now bring forward +general facts on which whole volumes have been filled, +not only by those of our own School, but also by Chrysippus. +But the Stoics complain of him, that, while he studiously +collected every argument which could be brought forward +against the senses and clearness, and against all custom, and +against reason, when he came to reply to himself, he was +inferior to what he had been at first; and therefore that, in +fact, he put arms into the hands of Carneades. Those arguments +are such as have been ingeniously handled by you. +You said that the perceptions of men asleep, or drunk, or +mad, were less vigorous than those of men awake, sober, and +sane. How do you prove that? because, when Ennius had +awakened, he would not say that he had seen Homer, but +only that Homer had seemed to be present. And Alcmæon +says— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +My heart distrusts the witness of my eyes. +</quote> + +<pb n='064'/><anchor id='Pg064'/> + +<p> +And one may say the same of men who are drunk. As if any +one denied that when a man has awakened he ceases to think +his dreams true; and that a man whose frenzy has passed +away, no longer conceives those things to be real which appeared +so to him during his madness. But that is not the +question: the question is, how those things appear to us, at +the time when they do appear. Unless, indeed, we suppose +that Ennius heard the whole of that address— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +O piety of the soul.... +</quote> + +<p> +(if, indeed, he did dream it), just as he would have heard it if +he had been awake. For when awake, he was able to think +those things phantoms—as, in fact, they were—and dreams. +But while he was asleep, he felt as sure of their reality as if +he had been awake. Again, Iliona, in that dream of hers, +where she hears— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Mother, I call on you.... +</quote> + +<p> +does she not believe that her son has spoken, just as she +would have believed it if she had been awake? On which +account she adds— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Come now, stand here, remain, and hear my words,</l> +<l>And once again repeat those words to me.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Does she here seem to place less trust in what she has seen +than people do when awake? +</p> + +<p> +XXVIII. Why should I speak of madmen?—such as your +relation Tuditanus was, Catulus. Does any man, who may +be ever so much in his senses, think the things which he sees +as certain as he used to think those that appeared to him? +Again, the man who cries out— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>I see you now, I see you now alive,</l> +<l>Ulysses, while such sight is still allow'd me;</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +does he not twice cry out that he is seeing what he never +sees at all? Again, when Hercules, in Euripides, shot his +own sons with his arrows, taking them for the sons of Eurystheus,—when +he slew his wife,—when he endeavoured even +to slay his father,—was he not worked upon by false ideas, +just as he might have been by true ones? Again, does not +your own Alcmæon, who says that his heart distrusts the +witness of his eyes, say in the same place, while inflamed by +frenzy— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Whence does this flame arise? +</quote> + +<pb n='065'/><anchor id='Pg065'/> + +<p> +And presently afterwards— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Come on; come on; they hasten, they approach;</l> +<l>They seek for me.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Listen, how he implores the good faith of the virgin:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>O bring me aid; O drive this pest away;</l> +<l>This fiery power which now doth torture me;</l> +<l>See, they advance, dark shades, with flames encircled,</l> +<l>And stand around me with their blazing torches.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Have you any doubt here that he appears to himself to see +these things? And then the rest of his speech:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>See how Apollo, fair-hair'd God,</l> +<l>Draws in and bends his golden bow;</l> +<l>While on the left fair Dian waves her torch.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +How could he have believed these things any more if they +had really existed than he did when they only seemed to +exist? For it is clear that at the moment his heart was not +distrusting his eyes. But all these instances are cited in +order to prove that than which nothing can be more certain, +namely, that between true and false perceptions there is no +difference at all, as far as the assent of the mind is concerned. +But you prove nothing when you merely refute those false +perceptions of men who are mad or dreaming, by their own +recollection. For the question is not what sort of recollection +those people usually have who have awakened, or those who +have recovered from madness, but what sort of perception +madmen or dreamers had at the moment when they were +under the influence of their madness or their dream. However, +we will say no more about the senses. +</p> + +<p> +What is there that can be perceived by reason? You say +that Dialectics have been discovered, and that that science is, +as it were, an arbiter and judge of what is true and false. +Of what true and false?—and of true and false on what subject? +Will a dialectician be able to judge, in geometry, what +is true and false, or in literature, or in music? He knows +nothing about those things. In philosophy, then? What is +it to him how large the sun is? or what means has he which +may enable him to judge what the chief good is? What then +will he judge of? Of what combination or disjunction of ideas +is accurate,—of what is an ambiguous expression,—of what +follows from each fact, or what is inconsistent with it? If the +science of dialectics judges of these things, or things like +<pb n='066'/><anchor id='Pg066'/> +them, it is judging of itself. But it professed more. For to +judge of these matters is not sufficient for the resolving of +the other numerous and important questions which arise in +philosophy. But, since you place so much importance in +that art, I would have you to consider whether it was not +invented for the express purpose of being used against you. +For, at its first opening, it gives an ingenious account of the +elements of speaking, and of the manner in which one may +come to an understanding of ambiguous expressions, and of +the principles of reasoning: then, after a few more things, it +comes to the sorites, a very slippery and hazardous topic, and +a class of argument which you yourself pronounced to be a +vicious one. +</p> + +<p> +XXIX. What then, you will say; are we to be blamed for +that viciousness? The nature of things has not given us any +knowledge of ends, so as to enable us, in any subject whatever, +to say how far we can go. Nor is this the case only in respect +of the heap of wheat, from which the name is derived, but in +no matter whatever where the argument is conducted by +minute questions: for instance, if the question be whether a +man is rich or poor, illustrious or obscure,—whether things +be many or few, great or small, long or short, broad or narrow,—we +have no certain answer to give, how much must be +added or taken away to make the thing in question either +one or the other. +</p> + +<p> +But the sorites is a vicious sort of argument:—crush it, +then, if you can, to prevent its being troublesome; for it will +be so, if you do not guard against it. We have guarded +against it, says he. For Chrysippus's plan is, when he is +interrogated step by step (by way of giving an instance), +whether there are three, or few, or many, to rest a little before +he comes to the <q>many;</q> that is to say, to use their own +language, ἡσυχάζειν. Rest and welcome, says Carneades; you +may even snore, for all I care. But what good does he do? +For one follows who will waken you from sleep, and question +you in the same manner:—Take the number, after the mention +of which you were silent, and if to that number I add +one, will there be many? You will again go on, as long as +you think fit. Why need I say more? for you admit this, +that you cannot in your answers fix the last number which +can be classed as <q>few,</q> nor the first, which amounts to +<pb n='067'/><anchor id='Pg067'/> +<q>many.</q> And this kind of uncertainty extends so widely, +that I do not see any bounds to its progress. +</p> + +<p> +Nothing hurts me, says he; for I, like a skilful driver, will +rein in my horses before I come to the end, and all the more +if the ground which the horses are approaching is precipitous. +And thus, too, says he, I will check myself, and not reply any +more to one who addresses me with captious questions. If +you have a clear answer to make, and refuse to make it, you +are giving yourself airs; if you have not, even you yourself +do not perceive it. If you stop, because the question is +obscure, I admit that it is so; but you say that you do not +proceed as far as what is obscure. You stop, then, where the +case is still clear. If then all you do is to hold your tongue, +you gain nothing by that. For what does it matter to the +man who wishes to catch you, whether he entangles you +owing to your silence or to your talking? Suppose, for instance, +you were to say, without hesitation, that up to the +number nine, is <q>few,</q> but were to pause at the tenth; then +you would be refusing your assent to what is certain and +evident, and yet you will not allow me to do the same with +respect to subjects which are obscure. +</p> + +<p> +That art, therefore, does not help you against the sorites; +inasmuch as it does not teach a man, who is using either the +increasing or diminishing scale, what is the first point, or the +last. May I not say that that same art, like Penelope undoing +her web, at last undoes all the arguments which have gone +before? Is that your fault, or ours? In truth, it is the +foundation of dialectics, that whatever is enunciated (and that +is what they call ἀξίωμα, which answers to our word +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>effatum</foreign>,) +is either true or false. What, then, is the case? Are these +true or false? If you say that you are speaking falsely, and +that that is true, you are speaking falsely and telling the +truth at the same time. This, forsooth, you say is inexplicable; +and that is more odious than our language, when +we call things uncomprehended, and not perceived. +</p> + +<p> +XXX. However, I will pass over all this. I ask, if those +things cannot be explained, and if no means of judging of +them is discovered, so that you can answer whether they are +true or false, then what has become of that definition,—<q>That +a proposition (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>effatum</foreign>) +is something which is either true or +false?</q> After the facts are assumed I will add, that of them +<pb n='068'/><anchor id='Pg068'/> +some are to be adopted, others impeached, because they are +contrary to the first. What then do you think of this conclusion,—<q>If +you say that the sun shines, and if you speak +truth, therefore the sun does shine?</q> At all events you +approve of the kind of argument, and you say that the conclusion +has been most correctly inferred. Therefore, in teaching, +you deliver that as the first mood in which to draw +conclusions. Either, therefore, you will approve of every +other conclusion in the same mood, or that art of yours is +good for nothing. Consider, then, whether you are inclined +to approve of this conclusion;—<q>If you say that you are a +liar, and speak the truth, then you are a liar. But you do +say that you are a liar, and you do speak the truth, therefore +you are a liar.</q> How can you avoid approving of this conclusion, +when you approved of the previous one of the same +kind? +</p> + +<p> +These are the arguments of Chrysippus, which even he +himself did not refute. For what could he do with such a +conclusion as this,—<q>If it shines, it shines: but it does shine, +therefore it does shine?</q> He must give in; for the principle +of the connexion compels you to grant the last proposition +after you have once granted the first. And in what does this +conclusion differ from the other,—<q>If you lie, you lie; but +you do lie, therefore you do lie?</q> You assert that it is impossible +for you either to approve or disapprove of this: if so, +how can you any more approve or disapprove of the other? +If the art, or the principle, or the method, or the force of the +one conclusion avails, they exist in exactly the same degree +in both. +</p> + +<p> +This, however, is their last resource. They demand that +one should make an exception with regard to these points +which are inexplicable. I give my vote for their going to +some tribune of the people; for they shall never obtain this +exception from me. In truth, when they cannot prevail on +Epicurus, who despises and ridicules the whole science of +dialectics, to grant this proposition to be true, which we may +express thus—<q>Hermachus will either be alive to-morrow or +he will not;</q> when the dialecticians lay it down that every +disjunctive proposition, such as <q>either yes or no</q> is not +only true but necessary; you may see how cautious he is, +whom they think slow. For, says he, if I should grant that +<pb n='069'/><anchor id='Pg069'/> +one of the two alternatives is necessary, it will then be necessary +either that Hermachus should be alive to-morrow, or not. +But there is no such necessity in the nature of things. Let +the dialecticians then, that is to say, Antiochus and the +Stoics, contend with him, for he upsets the whole science of +dialectics. +</p> + +<p> +For if a disjunctive proposition made up of contraries, +(I call those propositions contraries when one affirms and the +other denies,) if, I say, such a disjunctive can be false, then +no one is ever true. But what quarrel have they with me +who am following their system? When anything of that +kind happened, Carneades used to joke in this way:—<q>If I +have drawn my conclusion correctly, I gain the cause: if +incorrectly, Diogenes shall pay back a mina;</q> for he had +learnt dialectics of that Stoic, and a mina was the pay of the +dialecticians. +</p> + +<p> +I, therefore, follow that system which I learnt from Antiochus; +and I find no reason why I should judge <q>If it does +shine, it does shine</q> to be true, because I have learnt that +everything which is connected with itself is true; and yet not +judge <q>If you lie, you lie,</q> to be connected with itself in the +same manner. Either, therefore, I must judge both this and +that to be true, or, if I may not judge this to be true, then I +cannot judge that to be. +</p> + +<p> +XXXI. However, to pass over all those prickles, and all +that tortuous kind of discussion, and to show what we are:—after +having explained the whole theory of Carneades, all the +quibbles of Antiochus will necessarily fall to pieces. Nor +will I say anything in such a way as to lead any one to suspect +that anything is invented by me. I will take what I say +from Clitomachus, who was with Carneades till his old age, a +man of great shrewdness, (indeed, he was a Carthaginian,) and +very studious and diligent. And he has written four books +on the subject of withholding assent; but what I am going to +say is taken out of the first. +</p> + +<p> +Carneades asserts that there are two kinds of appearances; +and that the first kind may be divided into those which can +be perceived and those which cannot; and the other into +those which are probable and those which are not. Therefore, +those which are pronounced to be contrary to the senses +and contrary to evidentness belong to the former division; +<pb n='070'/><anchor id='Pg070'/> +but that nothing can be objected to those of the second kind. +Wherefore his opinion is, that there is no appearance of such +a character that perception will follow it, but many such as +to draw after them probability. Indeed, it would be contrary +to nature if nothing were probable; and that entire overturning +of life, which you were speaking of, Lucullus, would +ensue. Therefore there are many things which may be proved +by the senses; only one must recollect that there is not in +them anything of such a character that there may not also be +something which is false, but which in no respect differs from +it in appearance; and so, whatever happens which is probable +in appearance, if nothing offers itself which is contrary +to that probability, the wise man will use it; and in this way +the whole course of life will be regulated. +</p> + +<p> +And, in truth, that wise man whom you are bringing on +the stage, is often guided by what is probable, not being comprehended, +nor perceived, nor assented to, but only likely; +and unless a man acts on such circumstances there is an end +to the whole system of life. For what must happen? Has +the wise man, when he embarks on board ship, a positive +comprehension and perception in his mind that he will have +a successful voyage? How can he? But suppose he goes from +this place to Puteoli, thirty furlongs, in a seaworthy vessel, with +a good pilot, and in fine weather like this, it appears probable +that he will arrive there safe. According to appearances +of this kind, then, he will make up his mind to act or not to +act; and he will be more willing to find the snow white than +Anaxagoras, who not only denied that fact, but who affirmed, +because he knew that water, from which snow was congealed, +was of a dark colour, that snow did not even look white. +And he will be influenced by anything which affects him in +such a way that the appearance is probable, and not interfered +with by any obstacle. For such a man is not cut out +of stone or hewn out of oak. He has a body, he has a mind, +he is influenced by intellect, he is influenced by his senses, so +that many things appear to him to be true, and yet not to have +conspicuous and peculiar characteristics by which to be perceived. +And therefore the wise man does not assent to them, +because it is possible that something false may exist of the +same kind as this true thing. Nor do we speak against the +senses differently from the Stoics, who say that many things +<pb n='071'/><anchor id='Pg071'/> +are false, and are very different from the appearance which +they present to the senses. +</p> + +<p> +XXXII. But if this is the case, that one false idea can be +entertained by the senses, you will find some one in a moment +who will deny that anything can be perceived by the senses. +And so, while we are silent, all perception and comprehension +is done away with by the two principles laid down, one by +Epicurus and the other by you. What is Epicurus's maxim?—If +anything that appears to the senses be false, then nothing +can be perceived. What is yours?—The appearances presented +to the senses are false.—What is the conclusion? Even +if I hold my tongue, it speaks for itself, that nothing can be +perceived. I do not grant that, says he, to Epicurus. Argue +then with him, as he is wholly at variance with you, but +leave me alone, who certainly agree with you so far, that the +senses are liable to error. Although nothing appears so +strange to me, as that such things should be said, especially +by Antiochus, to whom the propositions which I have just +mentioned were thoroughly known. For although, if he +pleases, any one may find fault with this, namely with our +denying that anything can be perceived; at all events it is +not a very serious reproof that we can have to endure. But +as for our statement that some things are probable, this does +not seem to you to be sufficient. Grant that it is not. At +least we ought to escape the reproaches which are incessantly +bandied about by you, <q>Can you, then, see nothing? can +you hear nothing? is nothing evident to you?</q> +</p> + +<p> +I explained just now, on the testimony of Clitomachus, in +what manner Carneades intended those statements to be taken. +Hear now, how the same things are stated by Clitomachus in +that book which he dedicated to Caius Lucilius, the poet, +after he had written on the same subject to Lucius Censorinus, +the one, I mean, who was consul with Marcus Manilius; he +then used almost these very words; for I am well acquainted +with them, because the first idea and arrangement of those +very matters which we are now discussing is contained in that +book. He then uses the following language— +</p> + +<p> +<q>The philosophers of the Academy are of opinion that there +are differences between things of such a kind that some appear +probable, and others the contrary. But that it is not a +sufficient reason for one's saying that some of these can be +<pb n='072'/><anchor id='Pg072'/> +perceived and that others cannot, because many things which +are false are probable; but nothing false can be perceived and +known. Therefore, says he, those men are egregiously wrong +who say that the Academics deny the existence of the senses; +for they have never said that there is no such thing as colour, +or taste, or sound; the only point they argue for is, that +there is not in them that peculiar characteristic mark of truth +and certainty which does not exist anywhere else.</q> +</p> + +<p> +And after having explained this, he adds, that there are +two senses in which the wise man may be said to suspend his +assent: one, when it is understood that he, as a general rule, +assents to nothing; the other, when he forbears answering, so +as to say that he approves or disapproves of anything, or, so +as to deny or affirm anything. This being the case, he +approves of the one sense, so as never to assent to anything; +and adheres to the other, so as to be able to answer yes, or +no, following probability whenever it either occurs or is wanting. +And that one may not be astonished at one, who in +every matter withholds himself from expressing his assent, +being nevertheless agitated and excited to action, he leaves us +perceptions of the sort by which we are excited to action, and +those owing to which we can, when questioned, answer either +way, being guided only by appearances, as long as we avoid +expressing a deliberate assent. And yet we must look upon +all appearances of that kind as probable, but only those which +have no obstacles to counteract them. If we do not induce +you to approve of these ideas, they may perhaps be false, but +they certainly do not deserve odium. For we are not depriving +you of any light; but with reference to the things +which you assert are perceived and comprehended, we say, that +if they be only probable, they appear to be true. +</p> + +<p> +XXXIII. Since, therefore, what is probable, is thus inferred +and laid down, and at the same time disencumbered of all +difficulties, set free and unrestrained, and disentangled from +all extraneous circumstances; you see, Lucullus, that that +defence of perspicuity which you took in hand is utterly overthrown. +For this wise man of whom I am speaking will +survey the heaven and earth and sea with the same eyes as +your wise man; and will feel with the same senses all those +other things which fall under each respective sense. That +sea, which now, as the west wind is rising over it, appears +<pb n='073'/><anchor id='Pg073'/> +purple to us, will appear so too to our wise man, but nevertheless +he will not sanction the appearance by his assent; +because, to us ourselves it appeared just now blue, and in +the morning it appeared yellow; and now, too, because it +sparkles in the sun, it is white and dimpled, and quite unlike +the adjacent continent; so that, even if you could give an +account why it is so, still you could not establish the truth of +the appearance that is presented to the eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Whence then,—for this was the question which you asked,—comes +memory, if we perceive nothing, since we cannot +recollect anything which we have seen unless we have comprehended +it? What? Did Polyænus, who is said to have +been a great mathematician, after he had been persuaded by +Epicurus to believe all geometry to be false, forget all the +knowledge which he had previously possessed? But that +which is false cannot be comprehended as you yourselves +assert. If, therefore, memory is conversant only with things +which have been perceived and comprehended, then it retains +as comprehended and perceived all that every one remembers. +But nothing false can be comprehended; and Scyron recollects +all the dogmas of Epicurus; therefore they are all true. +For all I care, they may be; but you also must either admit +that they are so, and that is the last thing in your thoughts, +or else you must allow me memory, and grant that there is +plenty of room for it, even if there be no comprehension or +perception. +</p> + +<p> +What then is to become of the arts? Of what arts? of +those, which of their own accord confess that they proceed +on conjecture more than on knowledge; or of those which +only follow what appears to them, and are destitute of that +art which you possess to enable them to distinguish between +truth and falsehood? +</p> + +<p> +But there are two lights which, more than any others, contain +the whole case; for, in the first place, you deny the +possibility of any man invariably withholding his assent from +everything. But that is quite plain; since Panætius, almost +the greatest man, in my opinion, of all the Stoics, says that +he is in doubt as to that matter, which all the Stoics except +him think absolutely certain, namely as to the truth of the +auspices taken by soothsayers, and of oracles, and dreams, +and prophecies; and forbears to express any assent respecting +<pb n='074'/><anchor id='Pg074'/> +them. And why, if he may pursue this course concerning +those matters, which the men of whom he himself learnt considered +unquestionable, why may not a wise man do so too in +all other cases? Is there any position which a man may +either approve or disapprove of after it has been asserted, but +yet may not doubt about? May you do so with respect to +the sorites whenever you please, and may not he take his +stand in the same manner in other cases, especially when +without expressing his assent he may be able to follow a +probability which is not embarrassed by anything? +</p> + +<p> +The second point is that you declare that man incapable +of action who withholds his assent from everything. For +first of all we must see in what assent consists. For the +Stoics say that the senses themselves are assents; that desire +comes after them, and action after desire. But that every +thing is at an end if we deny perception. +</p> + +<p> +XXXIV. Now on this subject many things have been said +and written on both sides, but the whole matter may be summed +up in a few words. For although I think it a very great +exploit to resist one's perceptions, to withstand one's vague +opinions, to check one's propensity to give assent to propositions,—and +though I quite agree with Clitomachus, when he +writes that Carneades achieved a Herculean labour when, as +if it had been a savage and formidable monster, he extracted +assent, that is to say, vague opinion and rashness, from our +minds,—yet, supposing that part of the defence is wholly +omitted, what will hinder the action of that man who follows +probability, without any obstacle arising to embarrass him? +This thing of itself, says he, will embarrass him,—that he will +lay it down, that even the thing he approves of cannot be +perceived. And that will hinder you, also, in sailing, in +planting, in marrying a wife, in becoming the parent of children, +and in many things in which you follow nothing except +what is probable. +</p> + +<p> +And, nevertheless, you bring up again that old and often +repudiated objection, to employ it not as Antipater did, but, +as you say, in a closer manner. For you tell us that Antipater +was blamed for saying, that it was consistent in a man who +affirmed that nothing could be comprehended, to say that at +least this fact of that impossibility could be comprehended; +which appeared even to Antiochus to be a stupid kind of +<pb n='075'/><anchor id='Pg075'/> +assertion, and contradictory to itself. For that it cannot be +said with any consistency that nothing can be comprehended, +if it is asserted at the same time that the fact of the +impossibility can be comprehended. He thinks that Carneades ought +rather to be pressed in this way:—As the wise man admits of no +dogma except such as is comprehended, perceived, and known, +he must therefore confess that this very dogma of the wise +man, <q>that nothing can be perceived,</q> is perceived; as if the +wise man had no other maxim whatever, and as if he could +pass his life without any. But as he has others, which are +probable, but not positively perceived, so also has he this one, +that nothing can be perceived. For if he had on this point +any characteristic of certain knowledge, he would also have it +on all other points; but since he has it not, he employs +probabilities. Therefore he is not afraid of appearing to be +throwing everything into confusion, and making it uncertain. +For it is not admissible for a person to say that he is ignorant +about duty, and about many other things with which he is +constantly mixed up and conversant; as he might say, if he +were asked whether the number of the stars is odd or even. +For in things uncertain, nothing is probable; but as to those +matters in which there is probability, in those the wise man +will not be at a loss what to do, or what answer to give. +</p> + +<p> +Nor have you, O Lucullus, omitted that other objection +of Antiochus (and, indeed, it is no wonder, for it is a very +notorious one,) by which he used to say that Philo was above +all things perplexed. For when one proposition was assumed, +that some appearances were false, and a second one that +there was no difference between them and true ones, he said +that that school omitted to take notice that the former +proposition had been granted by him, because there did appear +to be some difference between appearances; but that that was +put an end to by the second proposition, which asserted that +there was no difference between false and true ones; for that +no two assertions could be more contradictory. And this +objection would be correct if we altogether put truth out of +the question: but we do not; for we see both true appearances +and false ones. But there is a show of probability in +them, though of perception we have no sign whatever. +</p> + +<p> +XXXV. And I seem to myself to be at this moment adopting +too meagre an argument; for, when there is a wide plain, +in which our discourse may rove at liberty, why should we +<pb n='076'/><anchor id='Pg076'/> +confine it within such narrow straits, and drive it into the +thickets of the Stoics? For if I were arguing with a Peripatetic, +who said <q>that everything could be perceived which +was an impression originating in the truth,</q> and who did not +employ that additional clause,—<q>in such a way as it could not +originate in what was false,</q> I should then deal plainly with a +plain man, and should not be very disputatious. And even +if, when I said that nothing could be comprehended, he was +to say that a wise man was sometimes guided by opinion, I +should not contradict him; especially as even Carneades is +not very hostile to this idea. As it is, what can I do? For +I am asking what there is that can be comprehended; and I +am answered, not by Aristotle, or Theophrastus, or even +Xenocrates or Polemo, but by one who is of much later date +than they,—<q>A truth of such a nature as what is false cannot +be.</q> I find nothing of the sort. Therefore I will, in truth, +assent to what is unknown;—that is to say, I will be guided +by opinion. This I am allowed to do both by the Peripatetics +and by the Old Academy; but you refuse me such indulgence, +and in this refusal Antiochus is the foremost, who has +great weight with me, either because I loved the man, as he +did me, or because I consider him the most refined and acute +of all the philosophers of our age. +</p> + +<p> +And, first of all, I will ask him how it is that he is a follower +of that Academy to which he professes to belong? For, +to pass over other points, who is there, either of the Old Academy +or of the Peripatetics, who has ever made these two +assertions which are the subject of discussion,—either that +that alone could be perceived which was a truth of such a +nature, as what was false could not be; or that a wise man +was never guided by opinion? Certainly no one of them ever +said so. Neither of these propositions was much maintained +before Zeno's time. But I consider both of them true; and I +do not say so just to serve the present turn, but it is my +honest opinion. +</p> + +<p> +XXXVI. This is what I cannot bear. When you forbid me +to assent to what I do not know, and say such a proceeding +is most discreditable, and full of rashness,—when you, at the +same time, arrogate so much to yourself, as to take upon +yourself to explain the whole system of wisdom, to unfold the +nature of all things, to form men's manners, to fix the limits +of good and evil, to describe men's duties, and also to undertake +<pb n='077'/><anchor id='Pg077'/> +to teach a complete rule and system of disputing and +understanding, will you be able to prevent me from never +tripping while embracing all those multitudinous branches of +knowledge? What, in short, is that school to which you +would conduct me, after you have carried me away from this +one? I fear you will be acting rather arrogantly if you say it +is your own. Still you must inevitably say so. Nor, indeed, +are you the only person who would say such a thing, but +every one will try and tempt me to his own. Come; suppose +I resist the Peripatetics, who say that they are closely connected +with the orators, and that illustrious men who have +been instructed by them have often governed the republic;—suppose +that I withstand the Epicureans, so many of whom +are friends of my own,—excellent, united, and affectionate +men;—what am I to do with respect to Deodotus the Stoic, +of whom I have been a pupil from my youth,—who has been +living with me so many years,—who dwells in my house,—whom +I admire and love, and who despises all those theories +of Antiochus? Our principles, you will say, are the only true +ones. Certainly the only true ones, if they are true at all; +for there cannot be many true principles incompatible with +one another. Are we then shameless who are unwilling to +make mistakes; or they arrogant who have persuaded themselves +that they are the only people who know everything? +I do not, says he, assert that I, but that the wise man +knows everything. Exactly so; that he knows those things +which are the principles of your school. Now, in the first +place, what an assertion it is that wisdom cannot be explained +by a wise man.—But let us leave off speaking of ourselves; +let us speak of the wise man, about whom, as I have often +said before, the whole of this discussion is. +</p> + +<p> +Wisdom, then, is distributed by most people, and indeed by +us, into three parts. First therefore, if you please, let us consider +the researches that have been made into the nature of +things. Is there any one so puffed up with a false opinion of +himself as to have persuaded himself that he knows those +things? I am not asking about those reasons which depend +on conjecture, which are dragged every way by discussions, +and which do not admit any necessity of persuasion. Let the +geometricians look to that, who profess not to persuade men +to believe them, but to compel them to do so; and who prove +to you everything that they describe. I am not asking these +<pb n='078'/><anchor id='Pg078'/> +men for those principles of the mathematicians, which, if they +be not granted, they cannot advance a single step; such as +that a point is a thing which has no magnitude,—that an +extremity or levelness, as it were, is a space which has no +thickness,—that a line is length without breadth. Though I +should grant that all these axioms are true, if I were to add +an oath, do you think a wise man would swear that the sun is +many degrees greater than the earth, before Archimedes had, +before his eyes, made out all those calculations by which it is +proved? If he does, then he will be despising the sun which +he considers a god. But if he will not believe the mathematical +calculations which employ a sort of constraint in teaching,—as +you yourselves say,—surely he will be very far from +believing the arguments of philosophers; or, if he does believe +any such, which school will he believe? One may explain all +the principles of natural philosophers, but it would take a +long time: I ask, however, whom he will follow? Suppose +for a moment that some one is now being made a wise man, +but is not one yet,—what system and what school shall he +select above all others? For, whatever one he selects, he will +select while he is still unwise. But grant that he is a man of +godlike genius, which of all the natural philosophers will he +approve of above all others? For he cannot approve of more +than one. I will not pursue an infinite number of questions; +only let us see whom he will approve of with respect to the +elements of things of which all things are composed; for +there is a great disagreement among the greatest men on this +subject. +</p> + +<p> +XXXVII. First of all, Thales, one of the seven, to whom +they say that the other six yielded the preeminence, said +that everything originated out of water; but he failed to +convince Anaximander, his countryman and companion, of +this theory; for his idea was that there was an infinity of +nature from which all things were produced. After him, his +pupil, Anaximenes, said that the air was infinite, but that the +things which were generated from it were finite; and that +the earth, and water, and fire, were generated, and that from +them was produced everything else. Anaxagoras said that +matter was infinite; but that from it were produced minute +particles resembling one another; that at first they were confused, +but afterwards brought into order by divine intellect. +Xenophanes, who was a little more ancient still, asserted that +<pb n='079'/><anchor id='Pg079'/> +all things were only one single being, and that that being was +immutable and a god, not born, but everlasting, of a globular +form. Parmenides considered that it is fire that moves the +earth, which is formed out of it. Leucippus thought that +there was a <foreign rend='italic'>plenum</foreign>, and a +<foreign rend='italic'>vacuum</foreign>; Democritus resembled +him in this idea, but was more copious on other matters: +Empedocles adopts the theory of the four ordinary and commonly +known elements. Heraclitus refers everything to fire; +Melissus thinks that what exists is infinite, immutable, always +has existed, and always will. Plato thinks that the world +was made by God, so as to be eternal, out of matter which +collects everything to itself. The Pythagoreans affirm that +everything proceeds from numbers, and from the principles of +mathematicians. +</p> + +<p> +Now of all these different teachers the wise man will, +I imagine, select some one to follow; all the rest, numerous, +and great men as they are, will be discarded by him and +condemned; but whichever doctrine he approves of he will +retain in his mind, being comprehended in the same manner +as those things which he comprehends by means of the senses; +nor will he feel any greater certainty of the fact of its now +being day, than, since he is a Stoic, of this world being wise, +being endowed with intellect, which has made both itself and +the world, and which regulates, sets in motion, and governs +everything. He will also be persuaded that the sun, and +moon, and all the stars, and the earth, and sea, are gods, +because a certain animal intelligence pervades and passes +through them all: but nevertheless that it will happen some +day or other that all this world will be burnt up with fire. +</p> + +<p> +XXXVIII. Suppose that all this is true: (for you see +already that I admit that something is true,) still I deny that +these things are comprehended and perceived. For when that +wise Stoic of yours has repeated all that to you, syllable by +syllable, Aristotle will come forward pouring forth a golden +stream of eloquence, and pronounce him a fool; and assert +that the world has never had a beginning, because there never +existed any beginning of so admirable a work from the adoption +of a new plan: and that the world is so excellently made +in every part that no power could be great enough to cause +such motion, and such changes; nor could any time whatever +be long enough to produce an old age capable of causing all +this beauty to decay and perish. It will be indispensable for +<pb n='080'/><anchor id='Pg080'/> +you to deny this, and to defend the former doctrine as you +would your own life and reputation; may I not have even +leave to entertain a doubt on the matter? To say nothing +about the folly of people who assent to propositions rashly, +what value am I to set upon a liberty which will not allow +to me what is necessary for you? Why did God, when he +was making everything for the sake of man, (for this is your +doctrine,) make such a multitude of water-serpents and +vipers? Why did he scatter so many pernicious and fatal +things over the earth? You assert that all this universe +could not have been made so beautifully and so ingeniously +without some godlike wisdom; the majesty of which you +trace down even to the perfection of bees and ants; so that +it would seem that there must have been a Myrmecides<note place='foot'>From +μύρμηξ an ant.</note> among +the gods; the maker of all animated things. +</p> + +<p> +You say that nothing can have any power without God. +Exactly opposite is the doctrine of Strato of Lampsacus, who +gives that God of his exemption from all important business. +But as the priests of the gods have a holiday, how much more +reasonable is it that the gods should have one themselves? +He then asserts that he has no need of the aid of the gods +to account for the making of the world. Everything that +exists, he says, was made by Nature: not agreeing with that +other philosopher who teaches, that the universe is a concrete +mass of rough and smooth, and hooked and crooked +bodies, with the addition of a vacuum: this he calls a dream +of Democritus, and says that he is here not teaching, but +wishing;—but he himself, examining each separate part of +the world, teaches that whatever exists, and whatever is done, +is caused, or has been caused, by natural weights and motions. +In this way he releases God from a great deal of hard work, +and me from fear; for who is there who, (when he thinks +that he is an object of divine care,) does not feel an awe of +the divine power day and night? And who, whenever any +misfortunes happen to him (and what man is there to whom +none happen?) feels a dread lest they may have befallen him +deservedly—not, indeed, that I agree with that; but neither +do I with you: at one time I think one doctrine more probable, +and at other times I incline to the other. +</p> + +<p> +XXXIX. All these mysteries, O Lucullus, lie concealed +and enveloped in darkness so thick that no human ingenuity +<pb n='081'/><anchor id='Pg081'/> +has a sight sufficiently piercing to penetrate into heaven, and +dive into the earth. We do not understand our own bodies: +we do not know what is the situation of their different parts, +or what power each part has: therefore, the physicians themselves, +whose business it was to understand these things, have +opened bodies in order to lay those parts open to view. And +yet empirics say that they are not the better known for that; +because it is possible that, by being laid open and uncovered, +they may be changed. But is it possible for us, in the same +manner, to anatomize, and open, and dissect the natures of +things, so as to see whether the earth is firmly fixed on its +foundations and sticks firm on its roots, if I may so say, or +whether it hangs in the middle of a vacuum? Xenophanes +says that the moon is inhabited, and that it is a country of +many cities and mountains. These assertions seem strange, but +the man who has made them could not take his oath that such +is the case; nor could I take mine that it is not the case. You +also say that, opposite to us, on the contrary side of the earth, +there are people who stand with their feet opposite to our +feet, and you call them Antipodes. Why are you more angry +with me, who do not despise these theories, than with those +who, when they hear them, think that you are beside yourselves? +</p> + +<p> +Hiretas of Syracuse, as Theophrastus tells us, thinks that +the sun, and moon, and stars, and all the heavenly bodies, in +short, stand still; and that nothing in the world moves +except the earth; and, as that turns and revolves on its own +axis with the greatest rapidity, he thinks that everything is +made to appear by it as if it were the heaven which is moved +while the earth stands still. And, indeed, some people think +that Plato, in the Timæus, asserts this, only rather obscurely. +What is your opinion, Epicurus? Speak. Do you think +that the sun is so small?—Do I? Do you yourselves think +it so large? But all of you are ridiculed by him, and you in +your turn mock him. Socrates, then, is free from this ridicule, +and so is Ariston of Chios, who thinks that none of these +matters can be known. +</p> + +<p> +But I return to the mind and body. Is it sufficiently +known by us what is the nature of the sinews and of the +veins? Do we comprehend what the mind is?—where it is?—or, +in short, whether it exists at all, or whether, as Dicæarchus +<pb n='082'/><anchor id='Pg082'/> +thinks, there is no such thing whatever? If there is +such a thing, do we know whether it has three divisions, as +Plato thought; those of reason, anger, and desire?—or whether +it is single and uniform? If it is single and uniform, do we +know whether it is fire, or breath, or blood?—or, as Xenocrates +says, number without a body?—though, what sort of +thing that is, is not very easy to understand. And whatever +it is, do we know whether it is mortal or eternal? For many +arguments are alleged on both sides. +</p> + +<p> +XL. Some of these theories seem certain to your wise man: +but ours does not even see what is most probable; so nearly +equal in weight are the opposite arguments in most cases. +If you proceed more modestly, and reproach me, not because +I do not assent to your reasoning, but because I do not assent +to any, I will not resist any further: but I will select some +one with whom I may agree. Whom shall I choose?—whom? +Democritus? for, as you know, I have always been a favourer +of noble birth. I shall be at once overwhelmed with the +reproaches of your whole body. Can you think, they will say +to me, that there is any vacuum, when everything is so filled +and close packed that whenever any body leaves its place +and moves, the place which it leaves is immediately occupied +by some other body? Or can you believe that there are any +atoms to which whatever is made by their combination is +entirely unlike? or that any excellent thing can be made +without intellect? And, since this admirable beauty is found +in one world, do you think that there are also innumerable +other worlds, above, below, on the right hand and on the left, +before, and behind, some unlike this one, and some of the +same kind? And, as we are now at Bauli, and are beholding +Puteoli, do you think that there are in other places like these +a countless host of men, of the same names and rank, and +exploits, and talents, and appearances, and ages, arguing on +the same subjects? And if at this moment, or when we are +asleep, we seem to see anything in our mind, do you think +that those images enter from without, penetrating into our +minds through our bodies? You can never adopt such ideas +as these, or give your assent to such preposterous notions. It +is better to have no ideas at all than to have such erroneous +ones as these. +</p> + +<p> +Your object, then, is not to make me sanction anything by +<pb n='083'/><anchor id='Pg083'/> +my assent. If it were, consider whether it would not be +an impudent, not to say an arrogant demand, especially as +these principles of yours do not seem to me to be even probable. +For I do not believe that there is any such thing as +divination, which you assent to; and I also despise fate, by +which you say that everything is regulated. I do not even +believe that this world was formed by divine wisdom; or, +I should rather say, I do not know whether it was so formed +or not. +</p> + +<p> +XLI. But why should you seek to disparage me? May I +not confess that I do not understand what I really do not? +Or may the Stoics argue with one other, and may I not argue +with them? Zeno, and nearly all the rest of the Stoics, consider +Æther as the Supreme God, being endued with reason, +by which everything is governed. Cleanthes, who we may +call a Stoic, <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>Majorum +Gentium</foreign>, the pupil of Zeno, thinks that +the Sun has the supreme rule over and government of everything. +We are compelled, therefore, by the dissensions of +these wise men, to be ignorant of our own ruler, inasmuch as +we do not know whether we are subjects of the Sun or of +Æther. But the great size of the sun, (for this present radiance +of his appears to be looking at me,) warns me to make +frequent mention of him. Now you all speak of his magnitude +as if you had measured it with a ten-foot rule, (though +I refuse credit to your measurement, looking on you as but +bad architects.) Is there then any room for doubt, which of +us, to speak as gently as possible, is the more modest of +the two? Not, however, that I think those questions of the +natural philosophers deserving of being utterly banished from +our consideration; for the consideration and contemplation +of nature is a sort of natural food, if I may say so, for our +minds and talents. We are elevated by it, we seem to be +raised above the earth, we look down on human affairs; +and by fixing our thoughts on high and heavenly things we +despise the affairs of this life, as small and inconsiderable. +The mere investigation of things of the greatest importance, +which are at the same time very secret, has a certain pleasure +in it. And when anything meets us which appears likely, our +minds are filled with pleasure thoroughly worthy of a man. +Both your wise man and ours, then, will inquire into these +things; but yours will do so in order to assent, to feel belief, +<pb n='084'/><anchor id='Pg084'/> +to express affirmation; ours, with such feelings that he will +fear to yield rashly to opinion, and will think that he has +succeeded admirably if in matters of this kind he has found +out anything which is likely. +</p> + +<p> +Let us now come to the question of the knowledge of good +and evil. But we must say a few words by way of preface. +It appears to me that they who speak so positively about +those questions of natural philosophy, do not reflect that they +are depriving themselves of the authority of those ideas which +appear more clear. For they cannot give a clearer assent to, +or a more positive approval of the fact that it is now daylight, +than they do, when the crow croaks, to the idea that it +is commanding or prohibiting something. Nor will they +affirm that that statue is six feet high more positively after +they have measured it, than that the sun, which they cannot +measure, is more than eighteen times as large as the earth. +From which this conclusion arises: if it cannot be perceived +how large the sun is, he who assents to other things in the +same manner as he does to the magnitude of the sun, does +not perceive them. But the magnitude of the sun cannot be +perceived. He, then, who assents to a statement about it, as +if he perceived it, perceives nothing. Suppose they were to +reply that it is possible to perceive how large the sun is; I +will not object as long as they admit that other things too +can be perceived and comprehended in the same manner. +For they cannot affirm that one thing can be comprehended +more or less than another, since there is only one definition +of the comprehension of everything. +</p> + +<p> +XLII. However, to go back to what I had begun to say—What +have we in good and bad certainly ascertained? (we must, +of course, fix boundaries to which the sum of good and evil is +to be referred;) what subject, in fact, is there about which there +is a greater disagreement between the most learned men? I +say nothing about those points which seem now to be abandoned; +or about Herillus, who places the chief good in knowledge +and science: and though he had been a pupil of Zeno, +you see how far he disagrees with him, and how very little +he differs from Plato. The school of the Megaric philosophers +was a very celebrated one; and its chief, as I see it +stated in books, was Xenophanes, whom I mentioned just +now. After him came Parmenides and Zeno; and from them +<pb n='085'/><anchor id='Pg085'/> +the Eleatic philosophers get their name. Afterwards came +Euclid of Megara, a pupil of Socrates, from whom that school +got the name of Megaric. And they defined that as the only +good which was always one, alike, and identical. They also +borrowed a great deal from Plato. But the Eretrian philosophers, +who were so called from Menedumus, because he was +a native of Eretria, placed all good in the mind, and in that +acuteness of the mind by which the truth is discerned. The +Megarians say very nearly the same, only that they, I think, +develop their theory with more elegance and richness of +illustration. If we now despise these men, and think them +worthless, at all events we ought to show more respect for +Ariston, who, having been a pupil of Zeno, adopted in reality +the principles which he had asserted in words; namely, that +there was nothing good except virtue, and nothing evil except +what was contrary to virtue; and who denied altogether the +existence of those influences which Zeno contended for as being +intermediate, and neither good nor evil. His idea of the chief +good, is being affected in neither direction by these circumstances; +and this state of mind he calls ἀδιαφορία; but +Pyrrho asserts that the wise man does not even feel them; +and that state is called ἀπάθεια. +</p> + +<p> +To say nothing, then, of all these opinions, let us now +examine those others which have been long and vigorously +maintained. Some have accounted pleasure the chief good; +the chief of whom was Aristippus, who had been a pupil of +Socrates, and from whom the Cyrenaic school spring. After +him came Epicurus, whose school is now better known, +though he does not exactly agree with the Cyrenaics about +pleasure itself. But Callipho thought that pleasure and +honour combined made up the chief good. Hieronymus +placed it in being free from all annoyance; Diodorus in this +state when combined with honour. Both these last men were +Peripatetics. To live honourably, enjoying those things which +nature makes most dear to man, was the definition both of +the Old Academy, (as we may learn from the writings of +Polemo, who is highly approved of by Antiochus,) and of +Aristotle, and it is the one to which his friends appear now +to come nearest. Carneades also introduced a definition, +(not because he approved of it himself, but for the sake of +opposition to the Stoics,) that the chief good is to enjoy those +<pb n='086'/><anchor id='Pg086'/> +things which nature has made man consider as most desirable. +But Zeno laid it down that that honourableness which arises +from conformity to nature is the chief good. And Zeno was +the founder and chief of the Stoic school. +</p> + +<p> +XLIII. This now is plain enough, that all these chief +goods which I have mentioned have a chief evil corresponding +to them, which is their exact opposite. I now put it to +you, whom shall I follow? only do not let any one make me +so ignorant and absurd a reply as, Any one, provided only that +you follow some one or other. Nothing more inconsiderate +can be said: I wish to follow the Stoics. Will Antiochus, +(I do not say Aristotle, a man almost, in my opinion, unrivalled +as a philosopher, but will Antiochus) give me leave? +And he was called an Academic; but he would have been, +with very little alteration, something very like a Stoic. The +matter shall now be brought to a decision. For we must +either give the wise man to the Stoics or to the Old Academy. +He cannot belong to both; for the contention between them is +not one about boundaries, but about the whole territory. For +the whole system of life depends on the definition of the chief +good; and those who differ on that point, differ about the +whole system of life. It is impossible, therefore, that those +of both these schools should be wise, since they differ so +much from one another: but one of them only can be so. +If it be the disciple of Polemo, then the Stoic is wrong, who +assents to an error: and you say that nothing is so incompatible +with the character of a wise man as that. But if the +principles of Zeno be true, then we must say the same of the +Old Academics and of the Peripatetics; and as I do not know +which is the more wise of the two, I give my assent to neither. +What? when Antiochus in some points disagrees with the +Stoics whom he is so fond of, does he not show that these +principles cannot be approved of by a wise man? +</p> + +<p> +The Stoics assert that all offences are equal: but Antiochus +energetically resists this doctrine. At least, let me consider +before I decide which opinion I will embrace. Cut the matter +short, says he, do at last decide on something. What? The +reasons which are given appear to me to be both shrewd and +nearly equal: may I not then be on my guard against committing +a crime? for you called it a crime, Lucullus, to violate +a principle; I, therefore, restrain myself, lest I should +<pb n='087'/><anchor id='Pg087'/> +assent to what I do not understand; and this principle I have +in common with you. +</p> + +<p> +Here, however, is a much greater difference.—Zeno thinks +that a happy life depends on virtue alone. What says Antiochus? +He admits that this is true of a happy life, but not +of the happiest possible life. The first is a god, who thinks +that nothing can be wanting to virtue; the latter is a miserable +man, who thinks that there are many things besides +virtue, some of which are dear to a man, and some even +necessary. But I am afraid that the former may be attributing +to virtue more than nature can bear; especially since +Theophrastus has said many things with eloquence and +copiousness on this subject; and I fear that even he may +not be quite consistent with himself. For though he admits +that there are some evils both of body and fortune, he nevertheless +thinks that a man may be happy who is afflicted by +them all, provided he is wise. I am perplexed here; at one +time the one opinion appears to me to be more probable, +and at another time the other does. And yet, unless one or +the other be true, I think virtue must be entirely trampled +under foot. +</p> + +<p> +XLIV. However, they differ as to this principle. What +then? Can we approve, as true, of those maxims on which they +agree; namely, that the mind of the wise man is never influenced +by either desire or joy? Come, suppose this opinion +is a probable one, is this other one so too; namely, that it +never feels either alarm or grief? Cannot the wise fear? +And if his country be destroyed, cannot he grieve? That +seems harsh, but Zeno thinks it inevitable; for he considers +nothing good except what is honourable. But you do not +think it true in the least, Antiochus. For you admit that +there are many good things besides honour, and many evils +besides baseness; and it is inevitable that the wise man must +fear such when coming, and grieve when they have come. +But I ask when it was decided by the Old Academy that they +were to deny that the mind of the wise man could be agitated +or disturbed? They approved of intermediate states, and +asserted that there was a kind of natural mean in every agitation. +We have all read the treatise on Grief, by Crantor, a +disciple of the Old Academy. It is not large, but it is a golden +book, and one, as Panætius tells Tubero, worth learning by +<pb n='088'/><anchor id='Pg088'/> +heart. And these men used to say that those agitations were +very profitably given to our minds by nature; fear, in order +that we may take care; pity and melancholy they called the +whetstone of our clemency; and anger itself that of our +courage. Whether they were right or wrong we may consider +another time. How it was that those stern doctrines of yours +forced their way into the Old Academy I do not know, but +I cannot bear them; not because they have anything in them +particularly disagreeable to me; for many of the marvellous +doctrines of the Stoics, which men call παράδοξα, are derived +from Socrates. But where has Xenocrates or where has +Aristotle touched these points? For you try to make out +the Stoics to be the same as these men. Would they ever +say that wise men were the only kings, the only rich, the only +handsome men? that everything everywhere belonged to +the wise man? that no one was a consul, or prætor, or +general, or even, for aught I know, a quinquevir, but the +wise man? lastly, that he was the only citizen, the only +free man? and that all who are destitute of wisdom are +foreigners, exiles, slaves, or madmen? last of all, that the +writings of Lycurgus and Solon and our Twelve Tables are +not laws? that there are even no cities or states except those +which are peopled by wise men? Now these maxims, O Lucullus, +if you agree with Antiochus, your own friend, must +be defended by you as zealously as the bulwarks of your city; +but I am only bound to uphold them with moderation, just as +much as I think fit. +</p> + +<p> +XLV. I have read in Clitomachus, that when Carneades +and Diogenes the Stoic were standing in the capitol before +the senate, Aulus Albonus (who was prætor at the time, in the +consulship of Publius Scipio and Marcus Marcellus, the same +Albonus who was consul, Lucullus, with your own grandfather, +a learned man, as his own history shows, which is written in +Greek) said jestingly to Carneades—<q>I do not, O Carneades, +seem to you to be prætor because I am not wise, nor does this +seem to be a city, nor do the inhabitants seem to be citizens, for +the same reason.</q> And he answered—<q>That is the Stoic +doctrine.</q> Aristotle or Xenocrates, whom Antiochus wished to +follow, would have had no doubt that he was prætor, and Rome +a city, and that it was inhabited by citizens. But our friend +is, as I said before, a manifest Stoic, though he talks a little +nonsense. +</p> + +<pb n='089'/><anchor id='Pg089'/> + +<p> +But you are all afraid for me, lest I should descend to +opinions, and adopt and approve of something that I do not +understand; which you would be very sorry for me to do. +What advice do you give me? Chrysippus often testifies that +there are three opinions only about the chief good which can +be defended; he cuts off and discards all the rest. He says +that either honour is the chief good, or pleasure, or both combined. +For that those who say that the chief good is to be +free from all annoyance, shun the unpopular name of pleasure, +but hover about its neighbourhood. And those also do the +same who combine that freedom from annoyance with honour. +And those do not much differ from them who unite to honour +the chief advantages of nature. So he leaves three opinions +which he thinks may be maintained by probable arguments. +</p> + +<p> +Be it so. Although I am not easily to be moved from the +definition of Polemo and the Peripatetics, and Antiochus, +nor have I anything more probable to bring forward. Still, +I see how sweetly pleasure allures our senses. I am inclined +to agree with Epicurus or Aristippus. But virtue recalls me, +or rather leads me back with her hand; says that these are +the feelings of cattle, and that man is akin to the Deity. I +may take a middle course; so that, since Aristippus, as if +we had no mind, defends nothing but the body, and Zeno +espouses the cause of the mind alone, as if we were destitute +of body, I may follow Callipho, whose opinion Carneades used +to defend with such zeal, that he appeared wholly to approve +of it; although Clitomachus affirmed that he never could +understand what Carneades approved of. But if I were to +choose to follow him, would not truth itself, and all sound +and proper reason, oppose me? Will you, when honour consists +in despising pleasure, unite honour to pleasure, joining, +as it were, a man to a beast? +</p> + +<p> +XLVI. There is now, then, only one pair of combatants +left—pleasure and honour; between which Chrysippus, as far +as I can see, was not long in perplexity how to decide. If +you follow the one, many things are overthrown, especially +the fellowship of the human race, affection, friendship, justice, +and all other virtues, none of which can exist at all without +disinterestedness: for the virtue which is impelled to action +by pleasure, as by a sort of wages, is not really virtue, but +only a deceitful imitation and pretence of virtue. Listen, on +<pb n='090'/><anchor id='Pg090'/> +the contrary, to those men who say that they do not even +understand the name of honour, unless we call that honourable +which is accounted reputable by the multitude; that the +source of all good is in the body; that this is the law, and +rule, and command of nature; and that he who departs from +it will never have any object in life to follow. Do you think, +then, that I am not moved when I hear these and innumerable +other statements of the same kind? I am moved as +much as you are, Lucullus; and you need not think me less +a man than yourself. The only difference is that you, when +you are agitated, acquiesce, assent, and approve; you consider +the impression which you have received true, certain, comprehended, +perceived, established, firm, and unalterable; and +you cannot be moved or driven from it by any means whatever. +I think that there is nothing of such a kind that, if I +assent to it, I shall not often be assenting to what is false; +since there is no distinct line of demarcation between what is +true and what is false, especially as the science of dialectics +has no power of judging on this subject. +</p> + +<p> +I come now to the third part of philosophy. There is an +idea advanced by Protagoras, who thinks that that is true to +each individual which seems so to him; and a completely +different one put forward by the Cyrenaics, who think that +there is no such thing as certain judgment about anything +except the inner feelings: and a third, different from either, +maintained by Epicurus, who places all judgment in the +senses, and in our notions of things, and in pleasure. But +Plato considered that the whole judgment of truth, and that +truth itself, being abstracted from opinions and from the +senses, belonged to the province of thought and of the intellect. +Does our friend Antiochus approve of any of these +principles? He does not even approve of those who may be +called his own ancestors in philosophy: for where does he +follow Xenocrates, who has written a great many books on +the method of speaking, which are highly esteemed?—or +Aristotle himself, than whom there is no more acute or elegant +writer? He never goes one step without Chrysippus. +</p> + +<p> +XLVII. Do we then, who are called Academics, misuse the +glory of this name? or why are we to be compelled to follow +those men who differ from one another? In this very thing, +which the dialecticians teach among the elements of their art, +<pb n='091'/><anchor id='Pg091'/> +how one ought to judge whether an argument be true or +false which is connected in this manner, <q>If it is day, it +shines,</q> how great a contest there is;—Diodorus has one +opinion, Philo another, Chrysippus a third. Need I say +more? In how many points does Chrysippus himself differ +from Cleanthes, his own teacher? Again, do not two of the +very princes of the dialecticians, Antipater and Archidemus, +men most devoted to hypothesis, disagree in numbers of +things? Why then, Lucullus, do you seek to bring me into +odium, and drag me, as it were, before the assembly? And +why, as seditious tribunes often do, do you order all the shops +to be shut? For what is your object when you complain that +all trades are being suppressed by us, if it be not to excite the +artisans? But, if they all come together from all quarters, +they will be easily excited against you; for, first of all, I will +cite all those unpopular expressions of yours when you called +all those, who will then be in the assembly, exiles, and slaves, +and madmen: and then I will come to those arguments which +touch not the multitude, but you yourselves who are here +present. For Zeno and Antiochus both deny that any of you +know anything. How so? you will say; for we allege, on the +other hand, that even a man without wisdom comprehends +many things. But you affirm that no one except a wise man +knows one single thing. And Zeno professed to illustrate +this by a piece of action; for when he stretched out his +fingers, and showed the palm of his hand, <q>Perception,</q> said +he, <q>is a thing like this.</q> Then, when he had a little closed +his fingers, <q>Assent is like this.</q> Afterwards, when he had +completely closed his hand, and held forth his fist, that, he +said, was comprehension. From which simile he also gave +that state a name which it had not before, and called it +κατάληψις. But when he brought his left hand against his +right, and with it took a firm and tight hold of his fist, +knowledge, he said, was of that character; and that was what +none but a wise man possessed. But even those who are +themselves wise men do not venture to say so, nor any one +who has ever lived and been a wise man. According to that +theory, you, Catulus, do not know that it is daylight; and +you, Hortensius, are ignorant that we are now in your villa. +</p> + +<p> +Now, are these arguments less formidable than yours? +They are not, perhaps, very refined; and those others show +<pb n='092'/><anchor id='Pg092'/> +more acuteness. But, just as you said, that if nothing could +be comprehended, all the arts were destroyed at once, and +would not grant that mere probability was a sufficient foundation +for art; so I now reply to you, that art cannot exist +without knowledge. Would Zeuxis, or Phidias, or Polycletus +allow that they knew nothing, when they were men of such +marvellous skill? But if any one had explained to them how +much power knowledge was said to have, they would cease to +be angry; they would not even be offended with us, when +they had learnt that we were only putting an end to what did +not exist anywhere; but that we left them what was quite +sufficient for them. +</p> + +<p> +And this doctrine is confirmed also by the diligence of our +ancestors, who ordained, in the first place, that every one +should swear <q>according to the opinion of his own mind;</q> +secondly, that he should be accounted guilty <q>if he knowingly +swore falsely,</q> because there was a great deal of ignorance +in life; thirdly, that the man who was giving his +evidence should say that <q>he thought,</q> even in a case where +he was speaking of what he had actually seen himself. And that +when the judges were giving their decision on their evidence, +they should say, not that such and such a thing had been +done, but that such and such a thing appeared to them. +</p> + +<p> +XLVIII. But since the sailor is making signals, and the +west wind is showing us too, by its murmur, that it is time +for us, Lucullus, to set sail, and since I have already said a +great deal, I must now conclude. But hereafter, when we +inquire into these subjects, we will discuss the great disagreements +between the most eminent on the subject of the obscurity +of nature, and the errors of so many philosophers who +differ from one another about good and evil so widely, that, +as more than one of their theories cannot be true, it is +inevitable that many illustrious schools must fall to the +ground, rather than the theories about the false impressions +of the eyes and the other senses, and sorites, or false syllogism,—rods +which the Stoics have made to beat themselves +with. +</p> + +<p> +Then Lucullus replied, I am not at all sorry that we have +had this discussion; for often, when we meet again, especially +in our Tusculan villas, we can examine other questions which +seem worth investigation. Certainly, said I; but what does +<pb n='093'/><anchor id='Pg093'/> +Catulus think? and Hortensius? I? said Catulus. I return +to my father's opinion, which he used to say was derived +from Carneades, and think that nothing can be perceived; +but still I imagine that a wise man will assent to what is not +actually perceived—that is to say, will form opinions: being, +however, aware at the same time that they are only opinions, +and knowing that there is nothing which can be comprehended +and perceived. And, practising that ἐποχὴ so as to +take probability for a guide in all things, I altogether assent +to that other doctrine, that nothing can be perceived. I see +your meaning, said I; and I do not very much object to it. +But what is your opinion, Hortensius? He laughed, and +said, I suspend my judgment. I understand, said I; for that +is the peculiar principle of the Academy. +</p> + +<p> +So, after we had finished our discourse, Catulus remained +behind, and we went down to the shore to embark in our +vessels. +</p> + +</div> + +<div> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>A Treatise On The Chief Good And Evil.</head> + +<p> +Introduction. +</p> + +<p> +The following treatise was composed by Cicero a little +before the publication of his Tusculan Disputations. It consists +of a series of Dialogues, in which the opinions of the +different schools of Greek philosophy, especially the Epicureans, +Stoics, and Peripatetics, on the Supreme Good, as the +proper object or end (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>finis</foreign>) +of our thoughts and actions, are +investigated and compared. It is usually reckoned one of +the most highly finished and valuable of his philosophical +works; though from the abstruse nature of some of the topics +dwelt upon, and the subtlety of some of the arguments +adduced, it is unquestionably the most difficult. +</p> + +<p> +He gives an account himself of the work and of his design +and plan in the following terms. (Epist. ad Att. xiii. 19.) +<q>What I have lately written is in the manner of Aristotle, +where the conversation is so managed that he himself has the +principal part. I have finished the five books De Finibus +Bonorum et Malorum, so as to give the Epicurean doctrine +<pb n='094'/><anchor id='Pg094'/> +to Lucius Torquatus, the Stoic to Marcus Cato, and the +Peripatetic to Marcus Cato. For I considered that their +being dead would preclude all jealousy.</q> He does not, however, +maintain the unity of scene or character throughout the +five books. In the first book he relates a discussion which +is represented as having taken place in his villa near Cumæ, +in the presence of Caius Valerius Triarius, between himself +and Lucius Manlius Torquatus, who is spoken of as being +just about to enter his office as prætor, a circumstance which +fixes the date of this imaginary discussion to <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 50, a time +agreeing with the allusion (B. ii. 18,) to the great power of +Pompey. In the first book he attacks the doctrines of the +Epicurean school, and Torquatus defends them, alleging that +they had been generally misunderstood; and in the second +book Cicero enumerates the chief arguments with which the +Stoics assailed them. +</p> + +<p> +In the third book the scene is laid in the library of +Lucullus, where Cicero had accidentally met Cato; and from +conversing on the books by which they were surrounded +they proceeded to discuss the difference between the ethics +of the Stoics, and those of the Old Academy and the Peripatetics; +Cicero insisting that the disagreement was merely +verbal and not real, and that Zeno was wrong in leaving +Plato and Aristotle and establishing a new school; but Cato +asserts, on the other hand, that the difference is a real one, +and that the views held by the Stoics of the Supreme Good +are of a much loftier and purer character than those which +had been previously entertained. In the fourth book Cicero +gives us the arguments with which the philosophers of the +New Academy assailed the Stoics. And this conversation is +supposed to have been held two years before that in the first +book: for at the beginning of Book IV. there is a reference +to the law for limiting the length of the speeches of counsel +passed in the second consulship of Pompey, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 55, as being +only just passed. +</p> + +<p> +In the fifth book we are carried back to <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 79, and the +scene is laid at Athens, where Cicero was at that time under +Antiochus and Demetrius. He and his brother Quintus, +Lucius Cicero his cousin, Pomponius Atticus, and Marcus +Pupius Piso are represented as meeting in the Academia; +and Piso, at the request of his companions, lays open the +<pb n='095'/><anchor id='Pg095'/> +precepts inculcated by Aristotle and his school on the subject +of the Summum Bonum; after which Cicero states the +objections of the Stoics to the Peripatetic system, and Piso +replies. While giving the opinions of these above-named +sects with great fairness and impartiality Cicero abstains +throughout from pronouncing any judgment of his own. +</p> + +<div> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>First Book Of The Treatise On The Chief +Good And Evil.</head> + +<p> +I. I was not ignorant, Brutus, when I was endeavouring to +add to Latin literature the same things which philosophers +of the most sublime genius and the most profound and accurate +learning had previously handled in the Greek language, +that my labours would be found fault with on various +grounds. For some, and those too, far from unlearned men, +are disinclined to philosophy altogether; some, on the other +hand, do not blame a moderate degree of attention being given +to it, but do not approve of so much study and labour being +devoted to it. There will be others again, learned in Greek +literature and despising Latin compositions, who will say that +they would rather spend their time in reading Greek; and, +lastly, I suspect that there will be some people who will +insist upon it that I ought to apply myself to other studies, +and will urge that, although this style of writing may be an +elegant accomplishment, it is still beneath my character and +dignity. And to all these objections I think I ought to make +a brief reply; although, indeed, I have already given a sufficient +answer to the enemies of philosophy in that book in +which philosophy is defended and extolled by me after having +been attacked and disparaged by Hortensius.<note place='foot'>It +is not even known to what work Cicero is referring here.</note> And as both +you and others whom I considered competent judges approved +highly of that book, I have undertaken a larger work, fearing +to appear able only to excite the desires of men, but +incapable of retaining their attention. But those who, +though they have a very good opinion of philosophy, still +think it should be followed in a moderate degree only, require +a temperance which is very difficult in a thing which, +when once it has the reins given it, cannot be checked or +repressed; so that I almost think those men more reasonable +who altogether forbid us to apply ourselves to philosophy at +all, than they who fix a limit to things which are in their +<pb n='096'/><anchor id='Pg096'/> +nature boundless, and who require mediocrity in a thing +which is excellent exactly in proportion to its intensity. +</p> + +<p> +For, if it be possible that men should arrive at wisdom, +then it must not only be acquired by us, but even enjoyed. +Or if this be difficult, still there is no limit to the way in +which one is to seek for truth except one has found it; and +it is base to be wearied in seeking a thing, when what we do +seek for is the most honourable thing possible. In truth, if +we are amused when we are writing, who is so envious as to +wish to deny us that pleasure? If it is a labour to us, who +will fix a limit to another person's industry? For as the +Chremes<note place='foot'>In the Heautontimorumenos. Act +i. Sc. 1.</note> of Terence does not speak from a disregard of what +is due to men when he does not wish his new neighbour +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +To dig, or plough, or any toil endure: +</quote> + +<p> +for he is not in this dissuading him from industry, but only +from such labour as is beneath a gentleman; so, on the other +hand those men are over scrupulous who are offended by my +devoting myself to a labour which is far from irksome to +myself. +</p> + +<p> +II. It is more difficult to satisfy those men who allege +that they despise Latin writings. But, first of all, I may +express my wonder at their not being pleased with their +native language in matters of the highest importance, when +they are fond enough of reading fables in Latin, translated +word for word from the Greek. For what man is such an +enemy (as I may almost call it) to the Roman name, as to +despise or reject the Medea of Ennius, or the Antiope of +Pacuvius? and to express a dislike of Latin literature, while +at the same time he speaks of being pleased with the plays of +Euripides? <q>What,</q> says such an one, <q>shall I rather read +the Synephebi of Cæcilius,<note place='foot'><p>Cæcilius +Statius was the predecessor of Terence; by birth an Insubrian Gaul and +a native of Milan. He died <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 165, two years +before the representation of the Andria of Terence. He was considered +by the Romans as a great master of the art of exciting the feelings. +And Cicero (de Opt. Gen. Dic. 1.) speaks of him as the chief of the +Roman Comic writers. Horace says— +</p> +<p> +Vincere Cæcilius gravitate, Terentius arte. +</p></note> or the Andria of Terence, than +either of these plays in the original of Menander?</q> But I +disagree with men of these opinions so entirely, that though +<pb n='097'/><anchor id='Pg097'/> +Sophocles has composed an Electra in the most admirable +manner possible, still I think the indifferent translation of it +by Atilius<note place='foot'>Marcus Atilius, (though Cicero speaks of him here as a +tragedian,) was chiefly celebrated as a comic poet. He was one of the earliest +writers of that class; but nothing of his has come down to us. In +another place Cicero calls him <q>duris simusscriptor.</q> (Epist. ad +Att. xiv. 20.)</note> worth reading too, though Licinius calls him an +iron writer; with much truth in my opinion; still he is a +writer whom it is worth while to read. For to be wholly +unacquainted with our own poets is a proof either of the +laziest indolence, or else of a very superfluous fastidiousness. +</p> + +<p> +My own opinion is, that no one is sufficiently learned who +is not well versed in the works written in our own language. +Shall we not be as willing to read— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Would that the pine, the pride of Pelion's brow, +</quote> + +<p> +as the same idea when expressed in Greek? And is there +any objection to having the discussions which have been set +out by Plato, on the subject of living well and happily, arrayed +in a Latin dress? And if we do not limit ourselves to the +office of translators, but maintain those arguments which +have been advanced by people with whom we argue, and add +to them the exposition of our own sentiments, and clothe the +whole in our own language, why then should people prefer the +writings of the Greeks to those things which are written by us +in an elegant style, without being translated from the works of +Greek philosophers? For if they say that these matters have +been discussed by those foreign writers, then there surely is +no necessity for their reading such a number of those Greeks +as they do. For what article of Stoic doctrine has been +passed over by Chrysippus? And yet we read also Diogenes,<note place='foot'>Diogenes +was a pupil of Chrysippus, and succeeded Zeno of Tarsus +as the head of the Stoic school at Athens. He was one of the embassy +sent to Rome by the Athenians, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 155, and is supposed to +have died almost immediately afterwards.</note> +Antipater,<note place='foot'>Antipater was a native of Tarsus, and the pupil and successor +of Diogenes. Cicero speaks in very high terms of his genius. +(De Off. iii. 12.)</note> Mnesarchus,<note place='foot'>Mnesarchus +was a pupil of Panætius and the teacher of Antiochus +of Ascalon.</note> Panætius,<note place='foot'>Panætius was +a Rhodian, a pupil of Diogenes and Antipater, +which last he succeeded as head of the Stoic school. He was a friend +of P. Scipio Æmilianus, and accompanied him on his embassy to the +kings of Egypt and Asia in alliance with Rome. He died before +<hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 111.</note> and many others, and +<pb n='098'/><anchor id='Pg098'/> +especially the works of my own personal friend Posidonius.<note place='foot'>Posidonius +was a native of Apamea, in Egypt, a pupil of Panætius, +and a contemporary of Cicero. He came to Rome <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 51, having +been sent there as ambassador from Rhodes in the time of Marius.</note> +What shall we say of Theophrastus? Is it but a moderate +pleasure which he imparts to us while he is handling the +topics which had been previously dilated on by Aristotle? +What shall we say of the Epicureans? Do they pass over +the subjects on which Epicurus himself and other ancient +writers have previously written, and forbear to deliver their +sentiments respecting them? But if Greek authors are read +by the Greeks, though discussing the same subjects over and +over again, because they deal with them in different manners, +why should not the writings of Roman authors be also read +by our own countrymen? +</p> + +<p> +III. Although if I were to translate Plato or Aristotle in +as bold a manner as our poets have translated the Greek +plays, then, I suppose, I should not deserve well at the hands +of my fellow-countrymen, for having brought those divine +geniuses within their reach. However, that is not what I +have hitherto done, though I do not consider myself interdicted +from doing so. Some particular passages, if I think it +desirable, I shall translate, especially from those authors +whom I have just named, when there is an opportunity of +doing so with propriety; just as Ennius often translates +passages from Homer, and Afranius<note place='foot'><p>Lucius +Afranius lived about 100 <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> His comedies were chiefly +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>togatæ</foreign>, depicting Roman life; he +borrowed largely from Menander, to whom the Romans compared him. Horace says— +</p> +<p> +Dicitur Afranî toga convenisse Menandro. +</p> +<p> +Cicero praises his language highly (Brut. 45). +</p></note> from Menander. Nor +will I, like Lucilius, make any objection to everybody reading +my writings. I should be glad to have that Persius<note place='foot'><p>Caius +Lucilius was the earliest of the Roman satirists, born at +Suessa Aurunca, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 148; he died at Naples, +<hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 103. He served under +Scipio in the Numantine war. He was a very vehement and bold +satirist. Cicero alludes here to a saying of his, which he mentions +more expressly (De Orat. ii.), that he did not wish the ignorant to read +his works because they could not understand them: nor the learned +because they would be able to criticise them. +</p> +<p> +Persium non curo legere: Lælium Decimum volo. +</p> +<p> +This Persius being a very learned man; in comparison with whom Lælius +was an ignoramus.</p></note> for one +of my readers; and still more to have Scipio and Rutilius; +<pb n='099'/><anchor id='Pg099'/> +men whose criticism he professed to fear, saying that he wrote +for the people of Tarentum, and Consentia, and Sicily. That +was all very witty of him, and in his usual style; but still, +people at that time were not so learned as to give him cause +to labour much before he could encounter their judgment, +and his writings are of a lightish character, showing indeed, +a high degree of good breeding, but only a moderate quantity +of learning. But whom can I fear to have read my works +when I ventured to address a book to you, who are not inferior +to the Greeks themselves in philosophical knowledge? +Although I have this excuse for what I am doing, that I have +been challenged by you, in that to me most acceptable book +which you sent me <q>On Virtue.</q> +</p> + +<p> +But I imagine that some people have become accustomed +to feel a repugnance to Latin writing because they have +fallen in with some unpolished and inelegant treatises translated +from bad Greek into worse Latin. And with those men +I agree, provided they will not think it worth while to read +the Greek books written on the same subject. But who would +object to read works on important subjects expressed in well-selected +diction, with dignity and elegance; unless, indeed, +he wishes to be taken absolutely for a Greek, as Albucius was +saluted at Athens by Scævola, when he was prætor? And +this topic has been handled by that same Lucilius with great +elegance and abundant wit; where he represents Scævola as +saying— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>You have preferr'd, Albucius, to be call'd</l> +<l>A Greek much rather than a Roman citizen</l> +<l>Or Sabine, countryman of Pontius,</l> +<l>Tritannius, and the brave centurions</l> +<l>And standard-bearers of immortal fame.</l> +<l>So now at Athens, I, the prætor, thus</l> +<l>Salute you as you wish, whene'er I see you,</l> +<l>With Greek address, ὦ χαῖρε noble Titus,</l> +<l>Ye lictors, and attendants χαίρετε.</l> +<l>ὦ χαῖρε noble Titus. From this day</l> +<l>The great Albucius was my enemy.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +But surely Scævola was right. However, I can never sufficiently +express my wonder whence this arrogant disdain of +everything national arose among us. This is not exactly the +place for lecturing on the subject; but my own feelings are, +and I have constantly urged them, that the Latin language +is not only not deficient, so as to deserve to be generally +<pb n='100'/><anchor id='Pg100'/> +disparaged; but that it is even more copious than the Greek. +For when have either we ourselves, or when has any good +orator or noble poet, at least after there was any one for him +to imitate, found himself at a loss for any richness or ornament +of diction with which to set off his sentiments? +</p> + +<p> +IV. And I myself (as I do not think that I can be accused +of having, in my forensic exertions, and labours, and dangers, +deserted the post in which I was stationed by the Roman +people,) am bound, forsooth, to exert myself as much as +I can to render my fellow-countrymen more learned by my +labours and studies and diligence, and not so much to contend +with those men who prefer reading Greek works, provided +that they really do read them, and do not only pretend +to do so; and to fall in also with the wishes of those men +who are desirous either to avail themselves of both languages, +or who, as long as they have good works in their own, do +not care very much about similar ones in a foreign tongue. +But those men who would rather that I would write on +other topics should be reasonable, because I have already +composed so many works that no one of my countrymen +has ever published more, and perhaps I shall write even +more if my life is prolonged so as to allow me to do so. And +yet, whoever accustoms himself to read with care these things +which I am now writing on the subject of philosophy, will +come to the conclusion that no works are better worth reading +than these. For what is there in life which deserves to +be investigated so diligently as every subject which belongs +to philosophy, and especially that which is discussed in this +treatise, namely, what is the end, the object, the standard to +which all the ideas of living well and acting rightly are to be +referred? What it is that nature follows as the chief of all +desirable things? what she avoids as the principal of all evils? +</p> + +<p> +And as on this subject there is great difference of opinion +among the most learned men, who can think it inconsistent +with that dignity which every one allows to belong to me, to +examine what is in every situation in life the best and truest +good? Shall the chief men of the city, Publius Scævola and +Marcus Manilius argue whether the offspring of a female +slave ought to be considered the gain of the master of the +slave; and shall Marcus Brutus express his dissent from their +opinion, (and this is a kind of discussion giving great room +<pb n='101'/><anchor id='Pg101'/> +for the display of acuteness, and one too that is of importance +as regards the citizens,) and do we read, and shall we +continue to read, with pleasure their writings on this subject, +and the others of the same sort, and at the same time neglect +these subjects, which embrace the whole of human life? There +may, perhaps, be more money affected by discussions on that +legal point, but beyond all question, this of ours is the more +important subject: that, however, is a point which the +readers may be left to decide upon. But we now think that +this whole question about the ends of good and evil is, I may +almost say, thoroughly explained in this treatise, in which we +have endeavoured to set forth as far as we could, not only +what our own opinion was, but also everything which has +been advanced by each separate school of philosophy. +</p> + +<p> +V. To begin, however, with that which is easiest, we will +first of all take the doctrine of Epicurus, which is well known +to most people; and you shall see that it is laid down by us +in such a way that it cannot be explained more accurately +even by the adherents of that sect themselves. For we are +desirous of ascertaining the truth; not of convicting some +adversary. +</p> + +<p> +But the opinion of Epicurus about pleasure was formerly +defended with great precision by Lucius Torquatus, a man +accomplished in every kind of learning; and I myself replied +to him, while Caius Triarius, a most learned and worthy +young man, was present at the discussion. For as it happened +that both of them had come to my villa near Cumæ +to pay me a visit, first of all we conversed a little about literature, +to which they were both of them greatly devoted; and +after a while Torquatus said—Since we have found you in +some degree at leisure, I should like much to hear from you +why it is that you, I will not say hate our master Epicurus—as +most men do who differ from him in opinion—but still why +you disagree with him whom I consider as the only man who +has discerned the real truth, and who I think has delivered +the minds of men from the greatest errors, and has handed +down every precept which can have any influence on making +men live well and happily. But I imagine that you, like my +friend Triarius here, like him the less because he neglected the +ornaments of diction in which Plato, and Aristotle, and +Theophrastus indulged. For I can hardly be persuaded to +<pb n='102'/><anchor id='Pg102'/> +believe that the opinions which he entertained do not appear +to you to be correct. See now, said I, how far you are mistaken, +Torquatus. I am not offended with the language of that +philosopher; for he expresses his meaning openly and speaks in +plain language, so that I can understand him. Not, however, +that I should object to eloquence in a philosopher, if he were +to think fit to employ it; though if he were not possessed of it +I should not require it. But I am not so well satisfied with +his matter, and that too on many topics. But there are as +many different opinions as there are men; and therefore we +may be in error ourselves. What is it, said he, in which you +are dissatisfied with him? For I consider you a candid judge; +provided only that you are accurately acquainted with what +he has really said. Unless, said I, you think that Phædrus +or Zeno have spoken falsely (and I have heard them both +lecture, though they gave me a high opinion of nothing but +their own diligence,) all the doctrines of Epicurus are quite +sufficiently known to me. And I have repeatedly, in company +with my friend Atticus, attended the lectures of those men +whom I have named; as he had a great admiration for both +of them, and an especial affection even for Phædrus. And every +day we used to talk over what we heard, nor was there ever +any dispute between us as to whether I understood the scope +of their arguments; but only whether I approved of them. +</p> + +<p> +VI. What is it, then, said he, which you do not approve of +in them, for I am very anxious to hear? In the first place, said +I, he is utterly wrong in natural philosophy, which is his principal +boast. He only makes some additions to the doctrine +of Democritus, altering very little, and that in such a way +that he seems to me to make those points worse which he +endeavours to correct. He believes that atoms, as he calls +them, that is to say bodies which by reason of their solidity +are indivisible, are borne about in an interminable vacuum, +destitute of any highest, or lowest, or middle, or furthest, or +nearest boundary, in such a manner that by their concourse +they cohere together; by which cohesion everything which +exists and which is seen is formed. And he thinks that +motion of atoms should be understood never to have had a +beginning, but to have subsisted from all eternity. +</p> + +<p> +But in those matters in which Epicurus follows Democritus, +he is usually not very wrong. Although there are many +<pb n='103'/><anchor id='Pg103'/> +assertions of each with which I disagree, and especially with +this—that as in the nature of things there are two points +which must be inquired into,—one, what the material out of +which everything is made, is; the other, what the power is +which makes everything,—they discussed only the material, +and omitted all consideration of the efficient power and cause. +However, that is a fault common to both of them; but these +blunders which I am going to mention are Epicurus's own. +</p> + +<p> +For he thinks that those indivisible and solid bodies are +borne downwards by their own weight in a straight line; and +that this is the natural motion of all bodies. After this +assertion, that shrewd man,—as it occurred to him, that if +everything were borne downwards in a straight line, as I have +just said, it would be quite impossible for one atom ever to +touch another,—on this account he introduced another purely +imaginary idea, and said that the atoms diverged a little from +the straight line, which is the most impossible thing in the +world. And he asserted that it is in this way that all those +embraces, and conjunctions, and unions of the atoms with one +another took place, by which the world was made, and all the +parts of the world, and all that is in the world. And not +only is all this idea perfectly childish, but it fails in effecting +its object. For this very divergence is invented in a most +capricious manner, (for he says that each atom diverges without +any cause,) though nothing can be more discreditable to +a natural philosopher than to say that anything takes place +without a cause; and also, without any reason, he deprives +atoms of that motion which is natural to every body of any +weight (as he himself lays it down) which goes downwards +from the upper regions; and at the same time he does not +obtain the end for the sake of which he invented all these +theories. +</p> + +<p> +For if every atom diverges equally, still none will ever +meet with one another so as to cohere; but if some diverge, +and others are borne straight down by their natural inclination, +in the first place this will be distributing provinces as it +were among the atoms, and dividing them so that some are +borne down straight, and others obliquely; and in the next +place, this turbulent concourse of atoms, which is a blunder +of Democritus also, will never be able to produce this beautifully +ornamented world which we see around us. Even this, +<pb n='104'/><anchor id='Pg104'/> +too, is inconsistent with the principles of natural philosophy, +to believe that there is such a thing as a minimum; a thing +which he indeed never would have fancied, if he had been +willing to learn geometry from his friend Polyænus,<note place='foot'>Polyænus, +the son of Athenodorus was a native of Lampsacus: he +was a friend of Epicurus, and though he had previously obtained a high +reputation as a mathematician, he was persuaded by him at last to +agree with him as to the worthlessness of geometry.</note> instead +of seeking to persuade him to give it up himself. +</p> + +<p> +The sun appears to Democritus to be of vast size, as he is +a man of learning and of a profound knowledge of geometry. +Epicurus perhaps thinks that it is two feet across, for he thinks +it of just that size which it appears to be, or perhaps a little +larger or smaller. So what he changes he spoils; what he +accepts comes entirely from Democritus,—the atoms, the +vacuum, the appearances, which they call εἴδωλα, to the inroads +of which it is owing not only that we see, but also that +we think; and all that infiniteness, which they call ἀπειρία, +is borrowed from Democritus; and also the innumerable +worlds which are produced and perish every day. And +although I cannot possibly agree myself with all those fancies, +still I should not like to see Democritus, who is praised by +every one else, blamed by this man who has followed him +alone. +</p> + +<p> +VII. And as for the second part of philosophy, which +belongs to investigating and discussing, and which is called +λογικὴ, there your master as it seems to me is wholly unarmed +and defenceless. He abolishes definitions; he lays down no +rules for division and partition; he gives no method for +drawing conclusions or establishing principles; he does not +point out how captious objections may be refuted, or ambiguous +terms explained. He places all our judgments of +things in our senses; and if they are once led to approve of +anything false as if it were true, then he thinks that there is +an end to all our power of distinguishing between truth and +falsehood. +</p> + +<p> +But in the third part, which relates to life and manners, +with respect to establishing the end of our actions, he utters +not one single generous or noble sentiment. He lays down +above all others the principle, that nature has but two things +as objects of adoption and aversion, namely, pleasure and pain: +<pb n='105'/><anchor id='Pg105'/> +and he refers all our pursuits, and all our desires to avoid +anything, to one of these two heads. And although this is +the doctrine of Aristippus, and is maintained in a better +manner and with more freedom by the Cyrenaics, still I think +it a principle of such a kind that nothing can appear more +unworthy of a man. For, in my opinion, nature has produced +and formed us for greater and higher purposes. It is possible, +indeed, that I may be mistaken; but my opinion is decided +that that Torquatus, who first acquired that name, did not +tear the chain from off his enemy for the purpose of procuring +any corporeal pleasure to himself; and that he did not, +in his third consulship, fight with the Latins at the foot of +Mount Vesuvius for the sake of any personal pleasure. And +when he caused his son to be executed, he appears to have +even deprived himself of many pleasures, by thus preferring +the claims of his dignity and command to nature herself and +the dictates of fatherly affection. What need I say more? +Take Titus Torquatus, him I mean who was consul with +Cnæus Octavius; when he behaved with such severity towards +that son whom he had allowed Decimus Silanus to adopt as +his own, as to command him, when the ambassadors of the +Macedonians accused him of having taken bribes in his +province while he was prætor, to plead his cause before his +tribunal: and, when he had heard the cause on both sides, +to pronounce that he had not in his command behaved after +the fashion of his forefathers, and to forbid him ever to +appear in his sight again; does he seem to you to have given +a thought to his own pleasure? +</p> + +<p> +However, to say nothing of the dangers, and labours, and +even of the pain which every virtuous man willingly encounters +on behalf of his country, or of his family, to such a +degree that he not only does not seek for, but even disregards +all pleasures, and prefers even to endure any pain whatever +rather than to forsake any part of his duty; let us come to +those things which show this equally, but which appear of +less importance. What pleasure do you, O Torquatus, what +pleasure does this Triarius derive from literature, and history, +and the knowledge of events, and the reading of poets, +and his wonderful recollection of such numbers of verses? +And do not say to me, Why all these things are a pleasure to +me. So, too, were those noble actions to the Torquati. +<pb n='106'/><anchor id='Pg106'/> +Epicurus never asserts this in this manner; nor would you, +O Triarius, nor any man who had any wisdom, or who had +ever imbibed those principles. And as to the question which +is often asked, why there are so many Epicureans—there are +several reasons; but this is the one which is most seductive +to the multitude, namely, that people imagine that what he +asserts is that those things which are right and honourable +do of themselves produce joy, that is, pleasure. Those excellent +men do not perceive that the whole system is overturned +if that is the case. For if it were once granted, even although +there were no reference whatever to the body, that these +things were naturally and intrinsically pleasant; then virtue +and knowledge would be intrinsically desirable. And this is +the last thing which he would choose to admit. +</p> + +<p> +These principles, then, of Epicurus, I say, I do not approve +of. As for other matters, I wish either that he himself had +been a greater master of learning, (for he is, as you yourself +cannot help seeing, not sufficiently accomplished in those +branches of knowledge which men possess who are accounted +learned,) or at all events that he had not deterred others from +the study of literature: although I see that you yourself +have not been at all deterred from such pursuits by him. +</p> + +<p> +VIII. And when I had said this, more for the purpose of +exciting him than of speaking myself, Triarius, smiling gently, +said,—You, indeed, have almost entirely expelled Epicurus +from the number of philosophers. For what have you left +him except the assertion that, whatever his language might +he, you understood what he meant? He has in natural +philosophy said nothing but what is borrowed from others, +and even then nothing which you approved of. If he has +tried to amend anything he has made it worse. He had no +skill whatever in disputing. When he laid down the rule +that pleasure was the chief good, in the first place he was +very short-sighted in making such an assertion; and secondly, +even this very doctrine was a borrowed one; for Aristippus +had said the same thing before, and better too. You added, +at last, that he was also destitute of learning. +</p> + +<p> +It is quite impossible, O Triarius, I replied, for a person not +to state what he disapproves of in the theory of a man with +whom he disagrees. For what could hinder me from being +an Epicurean if I approved of what Epicurus says? especially +<pb n='107'/><anchor id='Pg107'/> +when it would be an amusement to learn his doctrines. +Wherefore, a man is not to be blamed for reproving those who +differ from one another; but evil speaking, contumely, ill-temper, +contention, and pertinacious violence in disputing, +generally appear to me quite unworthy of philosophy. +</p> + +<p> +I quite agree with you, said Torquatus; for one cannot +dispute at all without finding fault with your antagonist; but +on the other hand you cannot dispute properly if you do so +with ill-temper or with pertinacity. But, if you have no +objection, I have an answer to make to these assertions of +yours. Do you suppose, said I, that I should have said what +I have said if I did not desire to hear what you had to say +too? Would you like then, says he, that I should go through +the whole theory of Epicurus, or that we should limit our +present inquiry to pleasure by itself; which is what the +whole of the present dispute relates to? We will do, said I, +whichever you please. That then, said he, shall be my present +course. I will explain one matter only, being the most +important one. At another time I will discuss the question of +natural philosophy; and I will prove to you the theory of +the divergence of the atoms, and of the magnitude of the +sun, and that Democritus committed many errors which were +found fault with and corrected by Epicurus. At present, I +will confine myself to pleasure; not that I am saying anything +new, but still I will adduce arguments which I feel +sure that even you yourself will approve of. Undoubtedly, +said I, I will not be obstinate; and I will willingly agree +with you if you will only prove your assertions to my satisfaction. +I will prove them, said he, provided only that you +are as impartial as you profess yourself: but I would rather +employ a connected discourse than keep on asking or being +asked questions. As you please, said I. +</p> + +<p> +On this he began to speak;— +</p> + +<p> +IX. First of all then, said he, I will proceed in the manner +which is sanctioned by the founder of this school: I will lay +down what that is which is the subject of our inquiry, and +what its character is: not that I imagine that you do not +know, but in order that my discourse may proceed in a +systematic and orderly manner. We are inquiring, then, what +is the end,—what is the extreme point of good, which, in the +opinion of all philosophers, ought to be such that everything +<pb n='108'/><anchor id='Pg108'/> +can be referred to it, but that it itself can be referred to +nothing. This Epicurus places in pleasure, which he argues +is the chief good, and that pain is the chief evil; and he proceeds +to prove his assertion thus. He says that every animal +the moment that it is born seeks for pleasure, and rejoices in +it as the chief good; and rejects pain as the chief evil, and +wards it off from itself as far as it can; and that it acts in +this manner, without having been corrupted by anything, +under the promptings of nature herself, who forms this uncorrupt +and upright judgment. Therefore, he affirms that there +is no need of argument or of discussion as to why pleasure is +to be sought for, and pain to be avoided. This he thinks a +matter of sense, just as much as that fire is hot, snow white, +honey sweet; none of which propositions he thinks require to +be confirmed by laboriously sought reasons, but that it is +sufficient merely to state them. For that there is a difference +between arguments and conclusions arrived at by ratiocination, +and ordinary observations and statements:—by the first, +secret and obscure principles are explained; by the second, +matters which are plain and easy are brought to decision. +For since, if you take away sense from a man, there is nothing +left to him, it follows of necessity that what is contrary to +nature, or what agrees with it, must be left to nature herself +to decide. Now what does she perceive, or what does she +determine on as her guide to seek or to avoid anything, +except pleasure and pain? But there are some of our school +who seek to carry out this doctrine with more acuteness, and +who will not allow that it is sufficient that it should be +decided by sense what is good and what is bad, but who +assert that these points can be ascertained by intellect and +reason also, and that pleasure is to be sought for on its own +account, and that pain also is to be avoided for the same +reason. +</p> + +<p> +Therefore, they say that this notion is implanted in our +minds naturally and instinctively, as it were; so that we <emph>feel</emph> +that the one is to be sought for, and the other to be avoided. +Others, however, (and this is my own opinion too,) assert +that, as many reasons are alleged by many philosophers why +pleasure ought not to be reckoned among goods, nor pain +among evils, we ought not to rely too much on the goodness +of our cause, but that we should use arguments, and discuss +<pb n='109'/><anchor id='Pg109'/> +the point with precision, and argue, by the help of carefully +collected reasons, about pleasure and about pain. +</p> + +<p> +X. But that you may come to an accurate perception of +the source whence all this error originated of those people +who attack pleasure and extol pain, I will unfold the whole +matter; and I will lay before you the very statements which +have been made by that discoverer of the truth, and architect, +as it were, of a happy life. For no one either despises, or +hates, or avoids pleasure itself merely because it is pleasure, +but because great pains overtake those men who do not +understand how to pursue pleasure in a reasonable manner. +Nor is there any one who loves, or pursues, or wishes to +acquire pain because it is pain, but because sometimes such +occasions arise that a man attains to some great pleasure +through labour and pain. For, to descend to trifles, who of +us ever undertakes any laborious exertion of body except in +order to gain some advantage by so doing? and who is there +who could fairly blame a man who should wish to be in that +state of pleasure which no annoyance can interrupt, or one +who shuns that pain by which no subsequent pleasure is procured? +But we do accuse those men, and think them entirely +worthy of the greatest hatred, who, being made effeminate +and corrupted by the allurements of present pleasure, are so +blinded by passion that they do not foresee what pains and +annoyances they will hereafter be subject to; and who are +equally guilty with those who, through weakness of mind, +that is to say, from eagerness to avoid labour and pain, desert +their duty. +</p> + +<p> +And the distinction between these things is quick and +easy. For at a time when we are free, when the option of +choice is in our own power, and when there is nothing to +prevent our being able to do whatever we choose, then every +pleasure may be enjoyed, and every pain repelled. But on +particular occasions it will often happen, owing either to the +obligations of duty or the necessities of business, that pleasures +must be declined and annoyances must not be shirked. +Therefore the wise man holds to this principle of choice in +those matters, that he rejects some pleasures, so as, by the +rejection, to obtain others which are greater, and encounters +some pains, so as by that means to escape others which are +more formidable. +</p> + +<pb n='110'/><anchor id='Pg110'/> + +<p> +Now, as these are my sentiments, what reason can I have +for fearing that I may not be able to accommodate our +Torquati to them—men whose examples you just now quoted +from memory, with a kind and friendly feeling towards us? +However, you have not bribed me by praising my ancestors, +nor made me less prompt in replying to you. But I should +like to know from you how you interpret their actions? Do +you think that they attacked the enemy with such feelings, +or that they were so severe to their children and to their own +blood as to have no thought of their own advantage, or of +what might be useful to themselves? But even wild beasts +do not do that, and do not rush about and cause confusion in +such a way that we cannot understand what is the object of +their motions. And do you think that such illustrious men +performed such great actions without a reason? What their +reason was I will examine presently; in the meantime I will +lay down this rule,—If there was any reason which instigated +them to do those things which are undoubtedly splendid +exploits, then virtue by herself was not the sole cause of their +conduct. One man tore a chain from off his enemy, and at +the same time he defended himself from being slain; but he +encountered great danger. Yes, but it was before the eyes of +the whole army. What did he get by that? Glory, and the +affection of his countrymen, which are the surest bulwarks to +enable a man to pass his life without fear. He put his son to +death by the hand of the executioner. If he did so without +any reason, then I should be sorry to be descended from so +inhuman and merciless a man. But if his object was to +establish military discipline and obedience to command, at +the price of his own anguish, and at a time of a most formidable +war to restrain his army by the fear of punishment, +then he was providing for the safety of his fellow-citizens, +which he was well aware embraced his own. And this principle +is one of extensive application. For the very point +respecting which your whole school, and yourself most especially, +who are such a diligent investigator of ancient instances, +are in the habit of vaunting yourself and using high-flown +language, namely, the mention of brave and illustrious +men, and the extolling of their actions, as proceeding not +from any regard to advantage, but from pure principles of +honour and a love of glory, is entirely upset, when once that +<pb n='111'/><anchor id='Pg111'/> +rule in the choice of things is established which I mentioned +just now,—namely, that pleasures are passed over for the +sake of obtaining other greater pleasures, or that pains are +encountered with a view to escape greater pains. +</p> + +<p> +XI. But, however, for the present we have said enough +about the illustrious and glorious actions of celebrated men; +for there will be, hereafter, a very appropriate place for discussing +the tendency of all the virtues to procure pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +But, at present, I will explain what pleasure itself is, and +what its character is; so as to do away with all the mistakes +of ignorant people, and in order that it may be clearly +understood how dignified, and temperate, and virtuous that +system is, which is often accounted voluptuous, effeminate, +and delicate. For we are not at present pursuing that +pleasure alone which moves nature itself by a certain sweetness, +and which is perceived by the senses with a certain +pleasurable feeling; but we consider that the greatest of all +pleasures which is felt when all pain is removed. For since, +when we are free from pain, we rejoice in that very freedom +itself, and in the absence of all annoyance,—but everything +which is a cause of our rejoicing is pleasure, just as everything +that gives us offence is pain,—accordingly, the absence +of all pain is rightly denominated pleasure. For, as +when hunger and thirst are driven away by meat and drink, +the very removal of the annoyance brings with it the attainment +of pleasure, so, in every case, the removal of pain +produces the succession of pleasure. And therefore Epicurus +would not admit that there was any intermediate state between +pleasure and pain; for he insisted that that very state +which seems to some people the intermediate one, when a man +is free from every sort of pain, is not only pleasure, but the +highest sort of pleasure. For whoever feels how he is affected +must inevitably be either in a state of pleasure or in a state +of pain. But Epicurus thinks that the highest pleasure consists +in an absence of all pains; so that pleasure may afterwards +be varied, and may be of different kinds, but cannot be +increased or amplified. +</p> + +<p> +And even at Athens, as I have heard my father say, when +he was jesting in a good-humoured and facetious way upon +the Stoics, there is a statue in the Ceramicus of Chrysippus, +sitting down with his hand stretched out; and this attitude +<pb n='112'/><anchor id='Pg112'/> +of the hand intimates that he is amusing himself with this +brief question, <q>Does your hand, while in that condition in +which it is at present, want anything?</q>—Nothing at all. +But if pleasure were a good, would it want it? I suppose so. +Pleasure, then, is not a good. And my father used to say that +even a statue would not say this if it could speak. For the +conclusion was drawn as against the Stoics with sufficient +acuteness, but it did not concern Epicurus. For if that were +the only pleasure which tickled the senses, as it were, if I +may say so, and which overflowed and penetrated them with +a certain agreeable feeling, then even a hand could not be +content with freedom from pain without some pleasing motion +of pleasure. But if the highest pleasure is, as Epicurus +asserts, to be free from pain, then, O Chrysippus, the first +admission was correctly made to you, that the hand, when it +was in that condition, was in want of nothing; but the second +admission was not equally correct, that if pleasure were a +good it would wish for it. For it would not wish for it for +this reason, inasmuch as whatever is free from pain is in +pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +XII. But that pleasure is the boundary of all good things +may be easily seen from this consideration. Let us imagine +a person enjoying pleasures great, numerous, and perpetual, +both of mind and body, with no pain either interrupting him +at present or impending over him; what condition can we call +superior to or more desirable than this? For it is inevitable +that there must be in a man who is in this condition a firmness +of mind which fears neither death nor pain, because +death is void of all sensation; and pain, if it is of long duration, +is a trifle, while if severe it is usually of brief duration; +so that its brevity is a consolation if it is violent, and its +trifling nature if it is enduring. And when there is added to +these circumstances that such a man has no fear of the deity +of the gods, and does not suffer past pleasures to be entirely +lost, but delights himself with the continued recollection of +them, what can be added to this which will be any improvement +to it? +</p> + +<p> +Imagine, on the other hand, any one worn out with the +greatest pains of mind and body which can possibly befal a +man, without any hope being held out to him that they will +hereafter be lighter, when, besides, he has no pleasure whatever +<pb n='113'/><anchor id='Pg113'/> +either present or expected; what can be spoken of or imagined +more miserable than this? But if a life entirely filled with +pains is above all things to be avoided, then certainly that is +the greatest of evils to live in pain. And akin to this sentiment +is the other, that it is the most extreme good to live +with pleasure. For our mind has no other point where it can +stop as at a boundary; and all fears and distresses are referable +to pain: nor is there anything whatever besides, which +of its own intrinsic nature can make us anxious or grieve us. +Moreover, the beginnings of desiring and avoiding, and indeed +altogether of everything which we do, take their rise either in +pleasure or pain. And as this is the case, it is plain that +everything which is right and laudable has reference to this +one object of living with pleasure. And since that is the +highest, or extreme, or greatest good, which the Greeks call +τέλος, because it is referred to nothing else itself, but everything +is referred to it, we must confess that the highest good +is to live agreeably. +</p> + +<p> +XIII. And those who place this in virtue alone, and, being +caught by the splendour of a name, do not understand what +nature requires, will be delivered from the greatest blunder +imaginable if they will listen to Epicurus. For unless those +excellent and beautiful virtues which your school talks about +produced pleasure, who would think them either praiseworthy +or desirable? For as we esteem the skill of physicians not for +the sake of the art itself, but from our desire for good health,—and +as the skill of the pilot, who has the knowledge how to +navigate a vessel well, is praised with reference to its utility, +and not to his ability,—so wisdom, which should be considered +the art of living, would not be sought after if it +effected nothing; but at present it is sought after because it +is, as it were, the efficient cause of pleasure, which is a legitimate +object of desire and acquisition. And now you understand +what pleasure I mean, so that what I say may not be +brought into odium from my using an unpopular word. For +as the chief annoyances to human life proceed from ignorance +of what things are good and what bad, and as by reason of +that mistake men are often deprived of the greatest pleasures, +and tortured by the most bitter grief of mind, we have need +to exercise wisdom, which, by removing groundless alarms +and vain desires, and by banishing the rashness of all erroneous +<pb n='114'/><anchor id='Pg114'/> +opinions, offers herself to us as the surest guide to +pleasure. For it is wisdom alone which expels sorrow from +our minds, and prevents our shuddering with fear: she is the +instructress who enables us to live in tranquillity, by extinguishing +in us all vehemence of desire. For desires are +insatiable, and ruin not only individuals but entire families, +and often overturn the whole state. From desires arise +hatred, dissensions, quarrels, seditions, wars. Nor is it only +out of doors that these passions vent themselves, nor is it +only against others that they run with blind violence; but +they are often shut up, as it were, in the mind, and throw +that into confusion with their disagreements. +</p> + +<p> +And the consequence of this is, to make life thoroughly +wretched; so that the wise man is the only one who, having +cut away all vanity and error, and removed it from him, can +live contented within the boundaries of nature, without melancholy +and without fear. For what diversion can be either +more useful or more adapted for human life than that which +Epicurus employed? For he laid it down that there were +three kinds of desires; the first, such as were natural and +necessary; the second, such as were natural but not necessary; +the third, such as were neither natural nor necessary. +And these are all such, that those which are necessary are +satisfied without much trouble or expense: even those which +are natural and not necessary, do not require a great deal, +because nature itself makes the riches, which are sufficient to +content it, easy of acquisition and of limited quantity: but +as for vain desires, it is impossible to find any limit to, or any +moderation in them. +</p> + +<p> +XIV. But if we see that the whole life of man is thrown +into disorder by error and ignorance; and that wisdom is the +only thing which can relieve us from the sway of the passions +and the fear of danger, and which can teach us to bear the +injuries of fortune itself with moderation, and which shows us +all the ways which lead to tranquillity and peace; what reason +is there that we should hesitate to say that wisdom is to be +sought for the sake of pleasure, and that folly is to be avoided +on account of its annoyances? And on the same principle +we shall say that even temperance is not to be sought for its +own sake, but because it brings peace to the mind, and +soothes and tranquillizes them by what I may call a kind of +<pb n='115'/><anchor id='Pg115'/> +concord. For temperance is that which warns us to follow +reason in desiring or avoiding anything. Nor is it sufficient +to decide what ought to be done, and what ought not; but +we must adhere to what has been decided. But many men, +because they are enfeebled and subdued the moment pleasure +comes in sight, and so are unable to keep and adhere to the +determination they have formed, give themselves up to be +bound hand and foot by their lusts, and do not foresee what +will happen to them; and in that way, on account of some +pleasure which is trivial and unnecessary, and which might +be procured in some other manner, and which they could +dispense with without annoyance, incur terrible diseases, and +injuries, and disgrace, and are often even involved in the +penalties of the legal tribunals of their country. +</p> + +<p> +But these men who wish to enjoy pleasure in such a way +that no grief shall ever overtake them in consequence, and +who retain their judgment so as never to be overcome by +pleasure as to do what they feel ought not to be done; these +men, I say, obtain the greatest pleasure by passing pleasure +by. They often even endure pain, in order to avoid encountering +greater pain hereafter by their shunning it at present. +From which consideration it is perceived that intemperance +is not to be avoided for its own sake; and that temperance +is to be sought for, not because it avoids pleasures, but because +it attains to greater ones. +</p> + +<p> +XV. The same principle will be found to hold good with +respect to courage. For the discharge of labours and the +endurance of pain are neither of them intrinsically tempting; +nor is patience, nor diligence, nor watchfulness, nor industry +which is so much extolled, nor even courage itself: but we +cultivate these habits in order that we may live without care +and fear, and may be able, as far as is in our power, to release +our minds and bodies from annoyance. For as the whole +condition of tranquil life is thrown into confusion by the fear +of death, and as it is a miserable thing to yield to pain and +to bear it with a humble and imbecile mind; and as on +account of that weakness of mind many men have ruined +their parents, many men their friends, some their country, +and very many indeed have utterly undone themselves; so a +vigorous and lofty mind is free from all care and pain, since +it despises death, which only places those who encounter it in +<pb n='116'/><anchor id='Pg116'/> +the same condition as that in which they were before they +were born; and it is so prepared for pain that it recollects that +the very greatest are terminated by death, and that slight +pains have many intervals of rest, and that we can master +moderate ones, so as to bear them if they are tolerable, and +if not, we can depart with equanimity out of life, just as +out of a theatre, when it no longer pleases us. By all which +considerations it is understood that cowardice and idleness +are not blamed, and that courage and patience are not praised, +for their own sakes; but that the one line of conduct is rejected +as the parent of pain, and the other desired as the author of +pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +XVI. Justice remains to be mentioned, that I may not +omit any virtue whatever; but nearly the same things may +be said respecting that. For, as I have already shown that +wisdom, temperance, and fortitude are connected with pleasure +in such a way that they cannot possibly be separated or +divided from it, so also we must consider that it is the case +with justice. Which not only never injures any one; but on +the contrary always nourishes something which tranquillizes +the mind, partly by its own power and nature, and partly by +the hopes that nothing will be wanting of those things which +a nature not depraved may fairly derive. +</p> + +<p> +Since rashness and lust and idleness always torture the +mind, always make it anxious, and are of a turbulent character, +so too, wherever injustice settles in any man's mind, it is +turbulent from the mere fact of its existence and presence +there; and if it forms any plan, although it executes it ever +so secretly, still it never believes that what has been done +will be concealed for ever. For generally, when wicked men +do anything, first of all suspicion overtakes their actions; +then the common conversation and report of men; then the +prosecutor and the judge; and many even, as was the case +when you were consul, have given information against themselves. +But if any men appear to themselves to be sufficiently +fenced round and protected from the consciousness of men, +still they dread the knowledge of the Gods, and think that +those very anxieties by which their minds are eaten up night +and day, are inflicted upon them by the immortal Gods for +the sake of punishment. And how is it possible that wicked +actions can ever have as much influence towards alleviating +<pb n='117'/><anchor id='Pg117'/> +the annoyances of life, as they must have towards increasing +them from the consciousness of our actions, and also from the +punishments inflicted by the laws and the hatred of the +citizens? And yet, in some people, there is no moderation in +their passion for money and for honour and for command, +or in their lusts and greediness and other desires, which +acquisitions, however wickedly made, do not at all diminish, +but rather inflame, so that it seems we ought rather to +restrain such men than to think that we can teach them +better. Therefore sound wisdom invites sensible men to +justice, equity, and good faith. And unjust actions are not +advantageous even to that man who has no abilities or resources; +inasmuch as he cannot easily do what he endeavours +to do, nor obtain his objects if he does succeed in his endeavours. +And the gifts of fortune and of genius are better +suited to liberality; and those who practise this virtue gain +themselves goodwill, and affection, which is the most powerful +of all things to enable a man to live with tranquillity; +especially when he has absolutely no motive at all for doing +wrong. +</p> + +<p> +For those desires which proceed from nature are easily +satisfied without any injustice; but those which are vain +ought not to be complied with. For they desire nothing +which is really desirable; and there is more disadvantage in +the mere fact of injustice than there is advantage in what is +acquired by the injustice. Therefore a person would not be +right who should pronounce even justice intrinsically desirable +for its own sake; but because it brings the greatest +amount of what is agreeable. For to be loved and to be dear +to others is agreeable because it makes life safer, and pleasure +more abundant. Therefore we think dishonesty should be +avoided, not only on account of those disadvantages which +befal the wicked, but even much more because it never permits +the man in whose mind it abides to breathe freely, and +never lets him rest. +</p> + +<p> +But if the praise of those identical virtues in which the +discourse of all other philosophers so especially exults, cannot +find any end unless it be directed towards pleasure, and if +pleasure be the only thing which calls and allures us to itself +by its own nature; then it cannot be doubtful that that is +the highest and greatest of all goods, and that to live happily +is nothing else except to live with pleasure. +</p> + +<pb n='118'/><anchor id='Pg118'/> + +<p> +XVII. And I will now explain in a few words the things +which are inseparably connected with this sure and solid +opinion. +</p> + +<p> +There is no mistake with respect to the ends themselves of +good and evil, that is to say, with respect to pleasure and +pain; but men err in these points when they do not know +what they are caused by. But we admit that the pleasures +and pains of the mind are caused by the pleasures and pains +of the body. Therefore I grant what you were saying just +now, that if any philosophers of our school think differently +(and I see that many men do so, but they are ignorant +people) they must be convicted of error. But although pleasure +of mind brings us joy, and pain causes us grief, it is still +true that each of these feelings originates in the body, and is +referred to the body; and it does not follow on that account +that both the pleasures and pains of the mind are not much +more important than those of the body. For with the body +we are unable to feel anything which is not actually existent +and present; but with our mind we feel things past and +things to come. For although when we are suffering bodily +pain, we are equally in pain in our minds, still a very great +addition may be made to that if we believe that any endless +and boundless evil is impending over us. And we may +transfer this assertion to pleasure, so that that will be greater +if we have no such fear. +</p> + +<p> +This now is entirely evident, that the very greatest pleasure +or annoyance of the mind contributes more to making life +happy or miserable than either of these feelings can do if it is +in the body for an equal length of time. But we do not +agree that, if pleasure be taken away, grief follows immediately, +unless by chance it happens that pain has succeeded +and taken the place of pleasure; but, on the other hand, we +affirm that men do rejoice at getting rid of pain even if no +pleasure which can affect the senses succeeds. And from this +it may be understood how great a pleasure it is not to be in +pain. But as we are roused by those good things which we +are in expectation of, so we rejoice at those which we recollect. +But foolish men are tortured by the recollection of +past evils; wise men are delighted by the memory of past +good things, which are thus renewed by the agreeable recollection. +But there is a feeling implanted in us by which we +<pb n='119'/><anchor id='Pg119'/> +bury adversity as it were in a perpetual oblivion, but dwell +with pleasure and delight on the recollection of good fortune. +But when with eager and attentive minds we dwell on what +is past, the consequence is, that melancholy ensues, if the past +has been unprosperous; but joy, if it has been fortunate. +</p> + +<p> +XVIII. Oh what a splendid, and manifest, and simple, and +plain way of living well! For as certainly nothing could be +better for man than to be free from all pain and annoyance, +and to enjoy the greatest pleasures of both mind and body, +do you not see how nothing is omitted which can aid life, so +as to enable men more easily to arrive at that chief good +which is their object! Epicurus cries out—the very man +whom you pronounce to be too devoted to pleasure—that man +cannot live agreeably, unless he lives honourably, justly, and +wisely; and that, if he lives wisely, honourably, and justly, it +is impossible that he should not live agreeably. For a city +in sedition cannot be happy, nor can a house in which the +masters are quarrelling. So that a mind which disagrees and +quarrels with itself, cannot taste any portion of clear and +unrestrained pleasure. And a man who is always giving in to +pursuits and plans which are inconsistent with and contrary +to one another, can never know any quiet or tranquillity. +</p> + +<p> +But if the pleasure of life is hindered by the graver diseases +of the body, how much more must it be so by those of the +mind? But the diseases of the mind are boundless and vain +desires of riches, or glory, or domination, or even of lustful +pleasures. Besides these there are melancholy, annoyance, +sorrow, which eat up and destroy with anxiety the minds of +those men who do not understand that the mind ought not to +grieve about anything which is unconnected with some present +or future pain of body. Nor is there any fool who does +not suffer under some one of these diseases. Therefore there +is no fool who is not miserable. Besides these things there is +death, which is always hanging over us as his rock is over +Tantalus; and superstition, a feeling which prevents any one +who is imbued with it from ever enjoying tranquillity. Besides, +such men as they do not recollect their past good fortune, +do not enjoy what is present, but do nothing but expect +what is to come; and as that cannot be certain, they wear +themselves out with grief and apprehension, and are tormented +most especially when they find out, after it is too +<pb n='120'/><anchor id='Pg120'/> +late, that they have devoted themselves to the pursuit of +money, or authority, or power, or glory, to no purpose. For +they have acquired no pleasures, by the hope of enjoying +which it was that they were inflamed to undertake so many +great labours. There are others, of little and narrow minds, +either always despairing of everything, or else malcontent, +envious, ill-tempered, churlish, calumnious, and morose; others +devoted to amatory pleasures, others petulant, others audacious, +wanton, intemperate, or idle, never continuing in the +same opinion; on which account there is never any interruption +to the annoyances to which their life is exposed. +</p> + +<p> +Therefore, there is no fool who is happy, and no wise man who +is not. And we put this much more forcibly and truly than +the Stoics: for they assert that there is no good whatever, but +some imaginary shadow which they call τὸ καλὸν, a name +showy rather than substantial; and they insist upon it, that +virtue relying on this principle of honour stands in need of no +pleasure, and is content with its own resources as adequate to +secure a happy life. +</p> + +<p> +XIX. However, these assertions may be to a certain extent +made not only without our objecting to them, but even with +our concurrence and agreement. For in this way the wise +man is represented by Epicurus as always happy. He has +limited desires; he disregards death; he has a true opinion +concerning the immortal Gods without any fear; he does not +hesitate, if it is better for him, to depart from life. Being +prepared in this manner, and armed with these principles, he +is always in the enjoyment of pleasure; nor is there any +period when he does not feel more pleasure than pain. For +he remembers the past with gratitude, and he enjoys the present +so as to notice how important and how delightful the +joys which it supplies are; nor does he depend on future +good, but he waits for that and enjoys the present; and is as +far removed as possible from those vices which I have enumerated; +and when he compares the life of fools to his own +he feels great pleasure. And pain, if any does attack him, +has never such power that the wise man has not more to +rejoice at than to be grieved at. +</p> + +<p> +But Epicurus does admirably in saying that fortune has +but little power over the wise man, and that the greatest +and most important events of such a man's life are managed +<pb n='121'/><anchor id='Pg121'/> +by his own wisdom and prudence; and that greater pleasure +cannot be derived from an eternity of life than such a man +enjoys from this life which we see to be limited. +</p> + +<p> +But in your dialectics he thought that there was no power +which could contribute either to enable men to live better, or +argue more conveniently. To natural philosophy he attributed +a great deal of importance. For by the one science it is only the +meaning of words and the character of a speech, and the way +in which arguments follow from or are inconsistent with one +another, that can be seen; but if the nature of all things is +known, we are by that knowledge relieved from superstition, +released from the fear of death, exempted from being perplexed +by our ignorance of things, from which ignorance horrible +fears often arise. Lastly, we shall be improved in our morals +when we have learnt what nature requires. Moreover, if we +have an accurate knowledge of things, preserving that rule +which has fallen from heaven as it were for the knowledge of +all things, by which all our judgments of things are to be +regulated, we shall never abandon our opinions because of +being overcome by any one's eloquence. +</p> + +<p> +For unless the nature of things is thoroughly known, we +shall have no means by which we can defend the judgments +formed by our senses. Moreover, whatever we discern by our +intellect, all arises from the senses. And if our senses are all +correct, as the theory of Epicurus affirms, then something +may be discerned and understood accurately; but as to those +men who deny the power of the senses, and say that nothing +can be known by them, those very men, if the senses are discarded, +will be unable to explain that very point which they +are arguing about. Besides, if all knowledge and science is +put out of the question, then there is an end also of all settled +principles of living and of doing anything. +</p> + +<p> +Thus, by means of natural philosophy, courage is desired to +withstand the fear of death, and constancy to put aside the +claims engendered by superstition; and by removing ignorance +of all secret things, tranquillity of mind is produced; +and by explaining the nature of desires and their different +kinds, we get moderation: and (as I just now explained) by +means of this rule of knowledge, and of the judgment which +is established and corrected by it, the power of distinguishing +truth from falsehood is put into man's hands. +</p> + +<pb n='122'/><anchor id='Pg122'/> + +<p> +XX. There remains a topic necessary above all others to +this discussion, that of friendship, namely: which you, if +pleasure is the chief good, affirm to have no existence at all. +Concerning which Epicurus speaks thus: "That of all the +things which wisdom has collected to enable man to live +happily, nothing is more important, more influential, or more +delightful than friendship." Nor did he prove this assertion by +words only, but still more by his life, and conduct, and actions. +And how important a thing it is, the fables of the ancients +abundantly intimate, in which, many and varied as they are, +and traced back to the remotest antiquity, scarcely three pairs +of friends are found, even if you begin as far back as Theseus, +and come down to Orestes. But in one single house, and +that a small one, what great crowds of friends did Epicurus +collect, and how strong was the bond of affection that held +them together! And this is the case even now among the +Epicureans. However, let us return to our subject: it is not +necessary for us to be discussing men. +</p> + +<p> +I see, then, that the philosophers of our school have treated +the question of friendship in three ways. Some, as they denied +that those pleasures which concerned our friends were to be +sought with as much eagerness for their own sake, as we display +in seeking our own, (by pressing which topic some people +think that the stability of friendship is endangered,) maintain +that doctrine resolutely, and, as I think, easily explain it. +For, as in the case of the virtues which I have already mentioned, +so too they deny that friendship can ever be separated +from pleasure. For, as a life which is solitary and destitute +of friends is full of treachery and alarm, reason itself warns us +to form friendships. And when such are formed, then our +minds are strengthened, and cannot be drawn away from the +hope of attaining pleasure. And as hatred, envy, and contempt +are all opposed to pleasures, so friendships are not only +the most faithful favourers, but also are the efficient causes of +pleasures to one's friends as well as to oneself; and men not +only enjoy those pleasures at the moment, but are also roused +by hopes of subsequent and future time. And as we cannot +possibly maintain a lasting and continued happiness of life without +friendship, nor maintain friendship itself unless we love our +friends and ourselves equally, therefore this very effect is produced +in friendship, and friendship is combined with pleasure. +</p> + +<pb n='123'/><anchor id='Pg123'/> + +<p> +For we rejoice in the joy of our friends as much as we do +in our own, and we are equally grieved at their sorrows. +Wherefore the wise man will feel towards his friend as he does +towards himself, and whatever labour he would encounter +with a view to his own pleasure, he will encounter also for the +sake of that of his friend. And all that has been said of the +virtues as to the way in which they are invariably combined +with pleasure, should also be said of friendship. For admirably +does Epicurus say, in almost these exact words: <q>The +same science has strengthened the mind so that it should not +fear any eternal or long lasting evil, inasmuch as in this +very period of human life, it has clearly seen that the surest +bulwark against evil is that of friendship.</q> +</p> + +<p> +There are, however, some Epicureans who are rather intimidated +by the reproaches of your school, but still men of +sufficient acuteness, and they are afraid lest, if we think +that friendship is only to be sought after with a view to our +own pleasure, all friendships should, as it were, appear to be +crippled. Therefore they admit that the first meetings, and +unions, and desires to establish intimacy, do arise from a +desire of pleasure; but, they say, that when progressive +habit has engendered familiarity, then such great affection is +ripened, that friends are loved by one another for their own +sake, even without any idea of advantage intermingling with +such love. In truth, if we are in the habit of feeling affection +for places, and temples, and cities, and gymnasia, and the +Campus Martius, and for dogs, and horses, and sports, in +consequence of our habit of exercising ourselves, and hunting, +and so on, how much more easily and reasonably may such a +feeling be produced in us by our intimacy with men! +</p> + +<p> +But some people say that there is a sort of agreement +entered into by wise men not to love their friends less than +themselves; which we both imagine to be possible, and indeed +see to be often the case; and it is evident that nothing can +be found having any influence on living agreeably, which is +better suited to it than such a union. From all which considerations +it may be inferred, not only that the principle of +friendship is not hindered by our placing the chief good in +pleasure, but that without such a principle it is quite impossible +that any friendship should be established. +</p> + +<p> +XXI. Wherefore, if the things which I have been saying +<pb n='124'/><anchor id='Pg124'/> +are clearer and plainer than the sun itself; if all that I have +said is derived from the fountain of nature; if the whole of +my discourse forces assent to itself by its accordance with the +senses, that is to say, with the most incorruptible and honest +of all witnesses; if infant children, and even brute beasts, +declare almost in words, under the teaching and guidance of +nature, that nothing is prosperous but pleasure, nothing hateful +but pain—a matter as to which their decision is neither +erroneous nor corrupt—ought we not to feel the greatest +gratitude to that man who, having heard this voice of nature, +as I may call it, has embraced it with such firmness and +steadiness, that he has led all sensible men into the path of +a peaceful, tranquil, and happy life? And as for his appearing +to you to be a man of but little learning, the reason of +that is, that he thought no learning deserving of the name +except such as assisted in the attainment of a happy life. Was +he a man to waste his time in reading poets, as Triarius and +I do at your instigation? men in whose works there is no +solid utility, but only a childish sort of amusement; or to +devote himself, like Plato, to music, geometry, arithmetic, and +astronomy? studies which, starting from erroneous principles, +cannot possibly be true; and which, if they were true, would +constitute nothing to our living more agreeably, that is to +say, better. Should he, then, pursue such occupations as those, +and abandon the task of laying down principles of living, +laborious, but, at the same time, useful as they are? +</p> + +<p> +Epicurus, then, was not destitute of learning; but those +persons are ignorant who think that those studies which it is +discreditable for boys not to have learnt, are to be continued +till old age. +</p> + +<p> +And when he had spoken thus,—I have now, said he, +explained my opinions, and have done so with the design +of learning your judgment of them. But the opportunity +of doing so, as I wished, has never been offered me before +to-day. +</p> + +</div> + +<pb n='125'/><anchor id='Pg125'/> + +<div> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>Second Book Of The Treatise On The Chief +Good And Evil.</head> + +<p> +I. On this, when both of them fixed their eyes on me, and +showed that they were ready to listen to me:—In the first +place, said I, I intreat you not to fancy that I, like a professed +philosopher, am going to explain to you the doctrines of some +particular school; a course which I have never much approved +of when adopted by philosophers themselves. For +when did Socrates, who may fairly be called the parent of +philosophy, ever do anything of the sort? That custom was +patronized by those who at that time were called Sophists, +of which number Georgias of Leontium was the first who +ventured in an assembly to demand a question,—that is to +say, to desire any one in the company to say what he wished +to hear discussed. It was a bold proceeding; I should call it +an impudent one, if this fashion had not subsequently been +borrowed by our own philosophers. But we see that he +whom I have just mentioned, and all the other Sophists, (as +may be gathered from Plato,) were all turned into ridicule by +Socrates; for he, by questioning and interrogating them, +was in the habit of eliciting the opinions of those with whom +he was arguing, and then, if he thought it necessary, of +replying to the answers which they had given him. And as +that custom had not been preserved by those who came after +him, Arcesilaus re-introduced it, and established the custom, +that those who wished to become his pupils were not to ask +him questions, but themselves to state their opinions; and +then, when they had stated them, he replied to what they +had advanced; but those who came to him for instruction +defended their own opinions as well as they could. +</p> + +<p> +But with all the rest of the philosophers the man who asks +the question says no more; and this practice prevails in the +Academy to this day. For when he who wishes to receive +instruction has spoken thus, <q>Pleasure appears to me to be the +<pb n='126'/><anchor id='Pg126'/> +chief good,</q> they argue against this proposition in an uninterrupted +discourse; so that it may be easily understood that +they who say that they entertain such and such an opinion, +do not of necessity really entertain it, but wish to hear the +arguments which may be brought against it. We follow a +more convenient method, for not only has Torquatus explained +what his opinions are, but also why he entertains them: but +I myself think, although I was exceedingly delighted with his +uninterrupted discourse, that still, when you stop at each +point that arises, and come to an understanding what each +party grants, and what he denies, you draw the conclusion +you desire from what is admitted with more convenience, and +come to an end of the discussion more readily. For when a +discourse is borne on uninterruptedly, like a torrent, although +it hurries along in its course many things of every kind, you +still can take hold of nothing, and put your hand on nothing, +and can find no means of restraining that rapid discourse. +</p> + +<p> +II. But every discourse which is concerned in the investigation +of any matter, and which proceeds on any system and +principle, ought first to establish the rule (as is done in lawsuits, +where one proceeds according to set formulas), in order +that it may be agreed between the parties to the discussion, +what the subject of the discussion really is. This rule was +approved by Epicurus, as it was laid down by Plato in his +<q>Phædrus,</q> and he considered that it ought to be adopted in +every controversy. But he did not perceive what was the +necessary consequence of it, for he asserts that the subject +ought not to be defined; but if this be not done, it is sometimes +impossible that the disputants should agree what the +matter is that is the subject of discussion, as in this very +case which we are discussing now, for we are inquiring into +the End of Good. How can we know what the character of +this is, if, when we have used the expression the End of Good, +we do not compare with one another our ideas of what is +meant by the End, and of what the Good itself is? +</p> + +<p> +And this laying open of things covered up, as it were, when +it is once explained what each thing is, is the definition of it; +which you sometimes used without being aware of it; for you +defined this very thing, whether it is to be called the End, or +the extremity, or the limit, to be that to which everything +which was done rightly was referred, and which was itself +<pb n='127'/><anchor id='Pg127'/> +never referred to anything. So far was very well said; and, +perhaps, if it had been necessary, you would also have defined +the Good itself, and told us what that was; making it to be +that which is desirable by nature, or that which is profitable, +or that which is useful, or that which is pleasant: and now, +since you have no general objections to giving definitions, and +do it when you please, if it is not too much trouble, I should +be glad if you would define what is pleasure, for that is what +all this discussion relates to. +</p> + +<p> +As if, said he, there were any one who is ignorant what +pleasure is, or who is in need of any definition to enable him +to understand it better. +</p> + +<p> +I should say, I replied, that I myself am such a man, if I +did not seem to myself to have a thorough acquaintance with, +and an accurate idea and notion of, pleasure firmly implanted +in my mind. But, at present, I say that Epicurus himself +does not know, and that he is greatly in error on this subject; +and that he who mentions the subject so often ought to +explain carefully what the meaning of the words he uses is, +but that he sometimes does not understand what the meaning +of this word pleasure is, that is to say, what the idea is which +is contained under this word. +</p> + +<p> +III. Then he laughed, and said,—This is a capital idea, +indeed, that he who says that pleasure is the end of all things +which are to be desired, the very extreme point and limit of Good, +should be ignorant of what it is, and of what is its character. +But, I replied, either Epicurus is ignorant of what pleasure +is, or else all the rest of the world are. How so? said he. +</p> + +<p> +Because all men feel that this is pleasure which moves the +senses when they receive it, and which has a certain agreeableness +pervading it throughout. What then, said he, is +Epicurus ignorant of that kind of pleasure? Not always, I +replied; for sometimes he is even too well acquainted with it, +inasmuch as he declares that he is unable even to understand +where it is, or what any good is, except that which is enjoyed +by the instrumentality of meat or drink, or the pleasure of +the ears, or sensual enjoyment: is not this what he says? +As if, said he, I were ashamed of these things, or as if I were +unable to explain in what sense these things are said. I do +not doubt, I replied, that you can do so easily; nor is there +any reason why you need be ashamed of arguing with a wise +<pb n='128'/><anchor id='Pg128'/> +man, who is the only man, as far as I know, who has ever +ventured to profess himself a wise man. For they do not +think that Metrodorus himself professed this, but only that, +when he was called wise by Epicurus, he was unwilling to +reject such an expression of his goodwill. But the Seven had +this name given to them, not by themselves, but by the +universal suffrage of all nations. However, in this place, I +will assume that Epicurus, by these expressions, certainly +meant to intimate the same kind of pleasure that the rest do; +for all men call that pleasing motion by which the senses are +rendered cheerful, ἡδονὴ in Greek, and +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>voluptas</foreign> in Latin. +</p> + +<p> +What is it, then, that you ask? I will tell you, said I, and +that for the sake of learning rather than of finding fault with +either you or Epicurus. I too, said he, should be more +desirous to learn of you, if you can impart anything worth +learning, than to find fault with you. +</p> + +<p> +Well, then, said I, you are aware of what Hieronymus<note place='foot'>Hieronymus +was a disciple of Aristotle and a contemporary of +Arcesilaus. He lived down to the time of Ptolemy Philadelphus.</note> of +Rhodes says is the chief good, to which he thinks that everything +ought to be referred? I know, said he, that he thinks +that the great end is freedom from pain. Well, what are his +sentiments respecting pleasure? He affirms, he replied, that +it is not to be sought for its own sake; for he thinks that +rejoicing is one thing, and being free from pain another. +And indeed, continued he, he is in this point greatly mistaken, +for, as I proved a little while ago, the end of increasing +pleasure is the removal of all pain. I will examine, said I, +presently, what the meaning of the expression, freedom from +pain, is; but unless you are very obstinate, you must admit +that pleasure is a perfectly distinct thing from mere freedom +from pain. You will, however, said he, find that I am +obstinate in this; for nothing can be more real than the +identity between the two. Is there, now, said I, any pleasure +felt by a thirsty man in drinking? Who can deny it? said +he. Is it, asked I, the same pleasure that he feels after his +thirst is extinguished? It is, replied he, another kind of +pleasure; for the state of extinguished thirst has in it a +certain stability of pleasure, but the pleasure of extinguishing +it is pleasure in motion. Why, then, said I, do you call +things so unlike one another by the same name? Do not +<pb n='129'/><anchor id='Pg129'/> +you recollect, he rejoined, what I said just now,—that when +all pain is banished, pleasure is varied, not extinguished? I +recollect, said I; but you spoke in admirable Latin, indeed, +but yet not very intelligibly; for +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>varietas</foreign> is a Latin word, +and properly applicable to a difference of colour, but it is +applied metaphorically to many differences: we apply the +adjective, <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>varias</foreign>, +to poems, orations, manners, and changes of +fortune; it is occasionally predicated also of pleasure, when +it is derived from many things unlike one another, which +cause pleasures which are similarly unlike. Now, if that is +the variety you mean, I should understand you, as, in fact, I do +understand you, without your saying so: but still, I do not +see clearly what that variety is, because you say, that when +we are free from pain we are then in the enjoyment of the +greatest pleasure; but when we are eating those things which +cause a pleasing motion to the senses, then there is a pleasure +in the emotion which causes a variety in the pleasure; but +still, that that pleasure which arises from the freedom from +pain is not increased;—and why you call that pleasure I do +not know. +</p> + +<p> +IV. Is it possible, said he, for anything to be more delightful +than freedom from pain? Well, said I, but grant that +nothing is preferable to that, (for that is not the point which +I am inquiring about at present,) does it follow on that +account, that pleasure is identical with what I may call painlessness? +Undoubtedly it is identical with it, said he; and +that painlessness is the greatest of pleasures which no other +can possibly exceed. Why, then, said I, do you hesitate, +after you have defined the chief good in this manner, to +uphold, and defend, and maintain the proposition, that the +whole of pleasure consists in freedom from pain? For what +necessity for your introducing pleasure among the council of +the virtues, any more than for bringing in a courtezan to an +assembly of matrons? The very name of pleasure is odious, +infamous, and a just object of suspicion: therefore, you are +all in the constant habit of saying that we do not understand +what Epicurus means when he speaks of pleasure. And +whenever such an assertion is made to me,—and I hear it +advanced pretty often,—although I am usually a very peaceful +arguer, still I do on such occasions get a little angry. Am I +to be told that I do not know what that is which the Greeks +<pb n='130'/><anchor id='Pg130'/> +call ἡδονὴ, and the Latins <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>voluptas</foreign>? +Which language is it, then, +that I do not understand? Then, too, how comes it about that +I do not understand, though every one else does, who chooses +to call himself an Epicurean? when the disciples of your +school argue most excellently, that there is no need whatever +for a man, who wishes to become a philosopher, to be +acquainted with literature. Therefore, just as our ancestors +tore Cincinnatus away from his plough to make him Dictator, +in like manner you collect from among the Greeks all those +men, who may in truth be respectable men enough, but who +are certainly not over-learned. +</p> + +<p> +Do they then understand what Epicurus means, and do I +not understand it? However, that you may know that I do +understand, first of all I tell you that +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>voluptas</foreign> is the same +thing that he calls ἡδονὴ. And, indeed, we often have to seek +for a Latin word equivalent to, and exactly equipollent to a +Greek one; but here we had nothing to seek for: for no word can +be found which will more exactly express in Latin what ἡδονὴ +does in Greek, than <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>voluptas</foreign>. +Now every man in the world +who understands Latin, comprehends under this word two +things,—joy in the mind, and an agreeable emotion of pleasantness +in the body. For when the man in Trabea<note place='foot'>Trabea +was a Roman comic poet, who flourished about 130 <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi></note> +calls an excessive pleasure of the mind joy, +(<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>lætitia</foreign>,) he says much +the same as the other character in Cæcilius's play, who says +that he is joyful with every sort of joy. +</p> + +<p> +However, there is this difference, that pleasure is also +spoken of as affecting the mind; which is wrong, as the Stoics +think, who define it thus: <q>An elation of the mind without +reason, when the mind has an idea that it is enjoying some +great good.</q> But the words <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>lætitia</foreign> +(gladness), and <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>gaudium</foreign> +(joy), do not properly apply to the body. But the word +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>voluptas</foreign> +(pleasure) is applied to the body by the usage of all +people who speak Latin, whenever that pleasantness is felt +which moves any one of the senses. Now transfer this pleasantness, +if you please, to the mind; for the verb <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>juvo</foreign> +(to please) is applied both to body and mind, and the word +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>jucundus</foreign> +is derived from it; provided you understand that +between the man who says, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>I am transported with gladness now</l> +<l>That I am scarce myself....</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<pb n='131'/><anchor id='Pg131'/> + +<p> +and him who says, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Now then at length my mind's on fire, ... +</quote> + +<p> +one of whom is beside himself with joy, and the other is being +tormented with anguish, there is this intermediate person, +whose language is, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Although this our acquaintance is so new, +</quote> + +<p> +who feels neither gladness nor anguish. And, in the same +manner, between the man who is in the enjoyment of the +pleasures of the body, which he has been wishing for, and +him who is being tormented with extreme anguish, there is a +third man, who is free alike from pleasure and from pain. +</p> + +<p> +V. Do I not, then, seem to you sufficiently to understand +the meaning of words, or must I at this time of life be taught +how to speak Greek, and even Latin? And yet I would have +you consider, whether if I, who, as I think, understand Greek +very fairly, do still not understand what Epicurus means, it +it may not be owing to some fault of his for speaking so as +not to be intelligible. And this sometimes happens in two +ways, without any blame; either if you do so on purpose, as +Heraclitus did, who got the surname of σκοτεινὸς,<note place='foot'>Dark, +obscure.</note> because he +spoke with too much obscurity about natural philosophy; +or when the obscurity of the subject itself, not of the language, +prevents what is said from being clearly understood, +as is the case in the Timæus of Plato. But Epicurus, as +I imagine, is both willing, if it is in his power, to speak intelligibly, +and is also speaking, not of an obscure subject like the +natural philosophers, nor of one depending on precise rules, +as the mathematicians are, but he is discussing a plain and +simple matter, which is a subject of common conversation +among the common people. Although you do not deny that +we understand the usual meaning of the word +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>voluptas</foreign>, but +only what he means by it: from which it follows, not that +we do not understand what is the meaning of that word, but +that he follows his own fashion, and neglects our usual one; +for if he means the same thing that Hieronymus does, who +thinks that the chief good is to live without any annoyance, +why does he prefer using the term <q>pleasure</q> rather than +freedom from pain, as Hieronymus does, who is quite aware +of the force of the words which he employs? But, if he +thinks that he ought to add, that pleasure which consists in +<pb n='132'/><anchor id='Pg132'/> +motion, (for this is the distinction he draws, that this +agreeable pleasure is pleasure in motion, but the pleasure of +him who is free from pain is a state of pleasure,) then why +does he appear to aim at what is impossible, namely, to make +any one who knows himself—that is to say, who has any proper +comprehension of his own nature and sensations—think freedom +from pain, and pleasure, the same thing? +</p> + +<p> +This, O Torquatus, is doing violence to one's senses; it is +wresting out of our minds the understanding of words with +which we are imbued; for who can avoid seeing that these +three states exist in the nature of things: first, the state of +being in pleasure; secondly, that of being in pain; thirdly, +that of being in such a condition as we are at this moment, +and you too, I imagine, that is to say, neither in pleasure nor +in pain; in such pleasure, I mean, as a man who is at a +banquet, or in such pain as a man who is being tortured. +What! do you not see a vast multitude of men who are +neither rejoicing nor suffering, but in an intermediate state +between these two conditions? No, indeed, said he; I say +that all men who are free from pain are in pleasure, and in +the greatest pleasure too. Do you, then, say that the man +who, not being thirsty himself, mingles some wine for +another, and the thirsty man who drinks it when mixed, are +both enjoying the same pleasure? +</p> + +<p> +VI. Then, said he, a truce, if you please, to all your questions; +and, indeed, I said at the beginning that I would +rather have none of them, for I had a provident dread of +these captious dialectics. Would you rather, then, said I, +that we should argue rhetorically than dialectically? As if, +said he, a continuous discourse belonged solely to orators, +and not to philosophers also! I will tell you, said I, what +Zeno the Stoic said; he said, as Aristotle had said before +him, that all speaking was divided into two kinds, and that +rhetoric resembled the open palm, dialectics the closed fist, +because orators usually spoke in a rather diffuse, and dialecticians +in a somewhat compressed style. I will comply, then, +with your desires, and will speak, if I can, in an oratorical +style, but still with the oratory of the philosophers, and not +that which we use in the forum; which is forced at times, +when it is speaking so as to suit the multitude, to submit to +a very ordinary style. But while Epicurus, O Torquatus, is +<pb n='133'/><anchor id='Pg133'/> +expressing his contempt for dialectics, an art which by itself +contains the whole science both of perceiving what the real +subject is in every question, and also of judging what the +character of each thing is, by its system and method of conducting +the argument, he goes on too fast, as it seems to me, +and does not distinguish with any skill at all the different +points which he is intent upon proving, as in this very +instance which we were just now speaking of. +</p> + +<p> +Pleasure is pronounced to be the chief good. We must +then open the question, What is pleasure? for otherwise, the +thing which we are seeking for cannot be explained. But, if +he had explained it, he would not hesitate; for either he +would maintain that same definition of pleasure which Aristippus +did, namely, that it is that feeling by which the senses +are agreeably and pleasantly moved, which even cattle, if +they could speak, would call pleasure; or else, if he chose +rather to speak in his own style, than like +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>All the Greeks from high Mycenæ,</l> +<l>All Minerva's Attic youth,</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +and the rest of the Greeks who are spoken of in these anapæsts, +then he would call this freedom from pain alone by the name +of pleasure, and would despise the definition of Aristippus; +or, if he thought both definitions good, as in fact he does, he +would combine freedom from pain with pleasure, and would +employ the two extremes in his own definition: for many, +and they, too, great philosophers, have combined these extremities +of goods, as, for instance, Aristotle, who united in his +idea the practice of virtue with the prosperity of an entire +life. Callipho<note place='foot'>We know nothing +more of Callipho than what we derive from this and one or two other +notices of him by Cicero.</note> added pleasure to what is honourable. Diodorus, +in his definition, added to the same honourableness, +freedom from pain. Epicurus would have done so too, if he +had combined the opinion which was held by Hieronymus, +with the ancient theory of Aristippus. For those two men +disagree with one another, and on this account they employ +separate definitions; and, while they both write the most +beautiful Greek, still, neither does Aristippus, who calls +pleasure the chief good, ever speak of freedom from pain as +pleasure; nor does Hieronymus, who lays it down that freedom +from pain is the chief good, ever use the word <q>pleasure</q> +<pb n='134'/><anchor id='Pg134'/> +for that painlessness, inasmuch as he never even reckons +pleasure at all among the things which are desirable. +</p> + +<p> +VII. They are also two distinct things, that you may not +think that the difference consists only in words and names. +One is to be without pain, the other to be with pleasure. But +your school not only attempt to make one name for these two +things which are so exceedingly unlike, (for I would not mind +that so much,) but you endeavour also to make one thing out +of the two, which is utterly impossible. But Epicurus, who +admits both things, ought to use both expressions, and in fact +he does divide them in reality, but still he does not distinguish +between them in words. For though he in many places +praises that very pleasure which we all call by the same name, +he ventures to say that he does not even suspect that there is +any good whatever unconnected with that kind of pleasure +which Aristippus means; and he makes this statement in the +very place where his whole discourse is about the chief good. +But in another book, in which he utters opinions of the +greatest weight in a concise form of words, and in which he +is said to have delivered oracles of wisdom, he writes in those +words which you are well acquainted with, O Torquatus. For +who is there of you who has not learnt the κύριαι δόξαι of +Epicurus, that is to say, his fundamental maxims? because +they are sentiments of the greatest gravity intended to guide +men to a happy life, and enunciated with suitable brevity. +Consider, therefore, whether I am not translating this maxim +of his correctly. <q>If those things which are the efficient causes +of pleasures to luxurious men were to release them from all +fear of the gods, and of death, and of pain, and to show them +what are the proper limits to their desires, we should have +nothing to find fault with; as men would then be filled with +pleasures from all quarters, and have on no side anything +painful or melancholy, for all such things are evil.</q> +</p> + +<p> +On this Triarius could restrain himself no longer. I beg +of you, Torquatus, said he, to tell me, is this what Epicurus +says?—because he appeared to me, although he knew it himself, +still to wish to hear Torquatus admit it. But he was +not at all put out, and said with great confidence, Indeed, he +does, and in these identical words; but you do not perceive +what he means. If, said I, he says one thing and means +another, then I never shall understand what he means, but +<pb n='135'/><anchor id='Pg135'/> +he speaks plainly enough for me to see what he says. And +if what he says is that luxurious men are not to be blamed if +they are wise men, he talks absurdly; just as if he were to +say that parricides are not to be found fault with if they are +not covetous, and if they fear neither gods, nor death, nor +pain. And yet, what is the object of making any exception +as to the luxurious, or of supposing any people, who, while +living luxuriously, would not be reproved by that consummate +philosopher, provided only they guard against all other +vices. Still, would not you, Epicurus, blame luxurious men +for the mere fact of their living in such a manner as to +pursue every sort of pleasure; especially when, as you say, +the chief pleasure of all is to be free from pain? But yet we +find some debauched men so far from having any religious +scruples, that they will eat even out of the sacred vessels; and +so far from fearing death that they are constantly repeating +that passage out of the Hymnis,<note place='foot'>The Hymnis +was a comedy of Menander, translated by Cæcilius.</note>— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Six months of life for me are quite sufficient,</l> +<l>The seventh may be for the shades below,—</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +and bringing up that Epicurean remedy for pain, as if they +were taking it out of a medicine chest: <q>If it is bitter, it is of +short duration; if it lasts a long time, it must be slight in +degree.</q> There is one thing which I do not understand, +namely, how a man who is devoted to luxury can possibly +have his appetites under restraint. +</p> + +<p> +VIII. What then is the use of saying, I should have +nothing to reproach them with if they only set bounds to +their appetites? This is the same as saying, I should not +blame debauched men if they were not debauched men. In +the same way one might say, I should not blame even wicked +men if they were virtuous. This man of strict morality does +not think luxury of itself a thing to be blamed. And, indeed, +O Torquatus, to speak the truth, if pleasure is the chief good, +he is quite right not to think so. For I should be sorry to +picture to myself, (as you are in the habit of doing,) men so +debauched as to vomit over the table and be carried away +from banquets, and then the next day, while still suffering +from indigestion, gorge themselves again; men who, as they +say, have never in their lives seen the sun set or rise, and +who, having devoured their patrimony, are reduced to indigence. +<pb n='136'/><anchor id='Pg136'/> +None of us imagine that debauched men of that sort +live pleasantly. You, however, rather mean to speak of refined +and elegant <foreign rend='italic'>bons vivans</foreign>, men who, by the employment +of the most skilful cooks and bakers, and by carefully culling +the choicest products of fishermen, fowlers, and hunters, +avoid all indigestion— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Men who draw richer wines from foaming casks. +</quote> + +<p> +As Lucilius says, men who +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>So strain, so cool the rosy wine with snow,</l> +<l>That all the flavour still remains uninjured—</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +and so on—men in the enjoyment of luxuries such that, if +they are taken away, Epicurus says that he does not know +what there is that can be called good. Let them also have +beautiful boys to attend upon them; let their clothes, their +plate, their articles of Corinthian <foreign rend='italic'>vertu</foreign>, +the banqueting-room +itself, all correspond, still I should never be induced to say +that these men so devoted to luxury were living either well +or happily. From which it follows, not indeed that pleasure +is not pleasure, but that pleasure is not the chief good. Nor +was Lælius, who, when a young man, was a pupil of Diogenes +the Stoic, and afterwards of Panætius, called a wise man +because he did not understand what was most pleasant to the +taste, (for it does not follow that the man who has a discerning +heart must necessarily have a palate destitute of +discernment,) but because he thought it of but small +importance. +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>O sorrel, how that man may boast himself,</l> +<l>By whom you're known and valued! Proud of you,</l> +<l>That wise man Lælius would loudly shout,</l> +<l>Addressing all our epicures in order.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +And it was well said by Lælius, and he may be truly called a +wise man,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>You Publius, Gallonius, you whirlpool,</l> +<l>You are a miserable man; you never</l> +<l>In all your life have really feasted well,</l> +<l>Though spending all your substance on those prawns,</l> +<l>And overgrown huge sturgeons.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +The man who says this is one who, as he attributes no importance +to pleasure himself, denies that the man feasts well who +refers everything to pleasure. And yet he does not deny that +Gallonius has at times feasted as he wished: for that would +<pb n='137'/><anchor id='Pg137'/> +be speaking untruly: he only denies that he has ever feasted +well. With such dignity and severe principle does he distinguish +between pleasure and good. And the natural inference +is, that all who feast well feast as they wish, but that it does +not follow that all who feast as they wish do therefore feast +well. Lælius always feasted well. How so? Lucilius shall +tell you— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +He feasted on well season'd, well arranged— +</quote> + +<p> +what? What was the chief part of his supper? +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Converse of prudent men,— +</quote> + +<p> +Well, and what else? +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +with cheerful mind. +</quote> + +<p> +For he came to a banquet with a tranquil mind, desirous only +of appeasing the wants of nature. Lælius then is quite right +to deny that Gallonius had ever feasted well; he is quite right +to call him miserable; especially as he devoted the whole of +his attention to that point. And yet no one affirms that he +did not sup as he wished. Why then did he not feast well? +Because feasting well is feasting with propriety, frugality, and +good order; but this man was in the habit of feasting badly, +that is, in a dissolute, profligate, gluttonous, unseemly manner. +Lælius, then, was not preferring the flavour of sorrel to Gallonius's +sturgeon, but merely treating the taste of the sturgeon +with indifference; which he would not have done if he had +placed the chief good in pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +IX. We must then discard pleasure, not only in order to +follow what is right, but even to be able to talk becomingly. +Can we then call that the chief good in life, which we see +cannot possibly be so even in a banquet? +</p> + +<p> +But how is it that this philosopher speaks of three kinds +of appetites,—some natural and necessary, some natural but +not necessary, and others neither natural nor necessary? In +the first place, he has not made a neat division; for out of two +kinds he has made three. Now this is not dividing, but +breaking in pieces. If he had said that there are two kinds +of appetites, natural and superfluous ones, and that the natural +appetites might be also subdivided into two kinds, necessary +and not necessary, he would have been all right. And those +who have learnt what he despises do usually say so. For it +is a vicious division to reckon a part as a genus. However, +let us pass over this, for he despises elegance in arguing; he +<pb n='138'/><anchor id='Pg138'/> +speaks confusedly. We must submit to this as long as his +sentiments are right. I do not, however, approve, and it is +as much as I can do to endure, a philosopher speaking of the +necessity of setting bounds to the desires. Is it possible to +set bounds to the desires? I say that they must be banished, +eradicated by the roots. For what man is there in whom +appetites<note place='foot'>It is hardly +possible to translate this so as to give the force of the original. Cicero +says, If <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>cupiditas</foreign> is in a man he +must be <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>cupidus</foreign>, and we have no English +word which will at all answer to this adjective in this sense.</note> +dwell, who can deny that he may with propriety be +called appetitive? If so, he will be avaricious, though to a +limited extent; and an adulterer, but only in moderation; +and he will be luxurious in the same manner. Now what +sort of a philosophy is that which does not bring with it the +destruction of depravity, but is content with a moderate +degree of vice? Although in this division I am altogether +on his side as to the facts, only I wish he would express himself +better. Let him call these feelings the wishes of nature; +and let him keep the name of desire for other objects, so as, +when speaking of avarice, of intemperance, and of the greatest +vices, to be able to indict it as it were on a capital charge. +However, all this is said by him with a good deal of freedom, +and is often repeated; and I do not blame him, for it is +becoming in so great a philosopher, and one of such a great +reputation, to defend his own degrees fearlessly. +</p> + +<p> +But still, from the fact of his often appearing to embrace +that pleasure, (I mean that which all nations call by this +name,) with a good deal of eagerness, he is at times in great +difficulties, so that, if he could only pass undetected, there is +nothing so shameful that it does not seem likely that he +would do it for the sake of pleasure. And then, when he has +been put to the blush, (for the power of nature is very great,) +he takes refuge in denying that any addition can possibly be +made to the pleasure of the man who is free from pain. But +that state of freedom from pain is not called pleasure. I do +not care, says he, about the name. But what do you say +about the thing being utterly different?—I will find you +many men, or I may say an innumerable host, not so curious +nor so embarrassing as you are, whom I can easily convince +of whatever I choose. Why then do we hesitate to say that, +<pb n='139'/><anchor id='Pg139'/> +if to be free from pain is the highest degree of pleasure, to be +destitute of pleasure is the highest degree of pain? Because +it is not pleasure which is the contrary to pain, but the +absence of pain. +</p> + +<p> +X. But this he does not see, that it is a great proof that +at the very moment when he says that if pleasure be once +taken away he has no idea at all what remaining thing can be +called good, (and he follows up this assertion with the statement +that he means such pleasure as is perceptible by the +palate and by the ears, and adds other things which decency +ought to forbid him to mention,) he is, like a strict and +worthy philosopher, aware that this which he calls the chief +good is not even a thing which is worth desiring for its own +sake, that he himself informs us that we have no reason to +wish for pleasure at all, if we are free from pain. How inconsistent +are these statements! If he had learnt to make +correct divisions or definitions of his subject, if he had a +proper regard to the usages of speaking and the common +meaning of words, he would never have fallen into such difficulties. +But as it is, you see what it is he is doing. That +which no one has ever called pleasure at all, and that also +which is real active pleasure, which are two distinct things, +he makes but one. For he calls them agreeable and, as I +may say, sweet-tasted pleasures. At times he speaks so +lightly of them that you might fancy you were listening +to Marcus Curius. At times he extols them so highly that +he says he cannot form even the slightest idea of what else is +good—a sentiment which deserves not the reproof of a philosopher, +but the brand of the censor. For vice does not confine +itself to language, but penetrates also into the manners. He +does not find fault with luxury provided it to be free from +boundless desires and from fear. While speaking in this +way he appears to be fishing for disciples, that men who wish +to become debauchees may become philosophers first. +</p> + +<p> +Now, in my opinion, the origin of the chief good is to be +sought in the first origin of living animals. As soon as an +animal is born it rejoices in pleasure, and seeks it as a good; +it shuns pain as an evil. And Epicurus says that excellent +decisions on the subject of the good and the evil are come to +by those animals which are not yet depraved. You, too, +have laid down the same position, and these are your own +<pb n='140'/><anchor id='Pg140'/> +words. How many errors are there in them! For by reference +to which kind of pleasure will a puling infant judge of +the chief good; pleasure in stability or pleasure in motion?—since, +if the gods so will, we are learning how to speak from +Epicurus. If it is from pleasure as a state, then certainly +nature desires to be exempt from evil herself; which we +grant; if it is from pleasure in motion, which, however, is +what you say, then there will be no pleasure so discreditable +as to deserve to be passed over. And at the same time that +just-born animal you are speaking of does not begin with the +highest pleasure; which has been defined by you to consist +in not being in pain. +</p> + +<p> +However, Epicurus did not seek to derive this argument +from infants, or even from beasts, which he looks upon as +mirrors of nature as it were; so as to say that they, under +the guidance of nature, seek only this pleasure of being free +from pain. For this sort of pleasure cannot excite the desires +of the mind; nor has this state of freedom from pain any +impulse by which it can act upon the mind. Therefore +Hieronymus blunders in this same thing. For that pleasure +only acts upon the mind which has the power of alluring the +senses. Therefore Epicurus always has recourse to this +pleasure when wishing to prove that pleasure is sought for +naturally; because that pleasure which consists in motion +both allures infants to itself, and beasts; and this is not done +by that pleasure which is a state in which there is no other +ingredient but freedom from pain. How then can it be +proper to say that nature begins with one kind of pleasure, +and yet to put the chief good in another? +</p> + +<p> +XI. But as for beasts, I do not consider that they can pronounce +any judgment at all. For although they are not +depraved, it is still possible for them to be wrong. Just as +one stick may be bent and crooked by having been made so +on purpose, and another may be so naturally; so the nature +of beasts is not indeed depraved by evil education, but is +wrong naturally. Nor is it correct to say that nature excites +the infant to desire pleasure, but only to love itself and to +desire to preserve itself safe and unhurt. For every animal +the moment that it is born loves itself, and every part of itself, +and above all does it love its two principal parts, namely its +mind and body, and afterwards it proceeds to love the separate +<pb n='141'/><anchor id='Pg141'/> +parts of each. For there are in the mind and also in the +body some parts of especial consequence; and as soon as it +has got a slight perception of this fact, it then begins to make +distinctions, so as to desire those things which are by nature +given to it as its principal goods, and to reject the contrary. +Now it is a great question whether among these primary +natural goods, pleasure has any place or not. But to think +that there is nothing beyond pleasure, no limbs, no sensations, +no emotions of the mind, no integrity of the body, no +health, appears to me to be a token of the greatest ignorance. +And on this the whole question of good and evil turns. Now +Polemo and also Aristotle thought those things which I mentioned +just now the greatest of goods. And from this originated +that opinion of the Old Academy and of the Peripatetic +School, which led them to say that the greatest good was to +live in accordance with nature—that is to say, to enjoy the +chief good things which are given by nature, with the accompaniment +of virtue. Callipho added nothing to virtue except +pleasure; Diodorus nothing except freedom from pain. And +all these men attach the idea of the greatest good to some +one of these things which I have mentioned. Aristippus +thought it was simple pleasure. The Stoics defined it to be +agreeing with nature, which they say can only be living +virtuously, living honourably. And they interpret it further +thus—to live with an understanding of those things which +happen naturally, selecting those which are in accordance +with nature, and rejecting the contrary. So there are three +definitions, all of which exclude honesty:—one, that of Aristippus +or Epicurus; the second, that of Hieronymus; the +third, that of Carneades: three in which honesty is admitted +with some qualifying additions; those, namely, of Polemo, +Callipho, and Diodorus: one single one, of which Zeno is the +author, which is wholly referred to what is becoming; that is +to say, to honesty. For Pyrrho, Aristo, and Herillus, have +long since sunk into oblivion. The rest have been consistent +with themselves, so as to make their ends agree with their +beginnings; so that Aristippus has defined it to be pleasure; +Hieronymus, freedom from pain; and Carneades, the enjoyment +of what are pointed out by nature as the principal +goods. +</p> + +<p> +XII. But when Epicurus had given pleasure the highest +<pb n='142'/><anchor id='Pg142'/> +rank, if he meant the same pleasure that Aristippus did +he ought to have adopted the same thing as the chief good +that he did; if he meant the same that Hieronymus did, he +would then have been assigning the first rank to Hieronymus's +pleasure, and not to that of Aristippus. +</p> + +<p> +For, as to what he says, that it is decided by the senses +themselves that pleasure is a good and that pain is an evil, +he has attributed more weight to the senses than the laws +allow them. We are the judges of private actions, but we +cannot decide anything which does not legally come under +the cognisance of our tribunal; and, in such a case, it is to no +purpose that judges are in the habit, when they pronounce sentence, +of adding, <q>if the question belongs to my jurisdiction;</q> +for, if the matter did not come under their jurisdiction, this +additional form of words would not any the more give validity +to their decision. Now, what is it that the senses are judges +of? Whether a thing is sweet or bitter, soft or hard, near or +far off; whether it is standing still or moving; whether it is +square or round. What sentence, then, will reason pronounce, +having first of all called in the aid of the knowledge of divine +and human affairs, which is properly called wisdom; and +having, after that, associated to itself the virtues which reason +points out as the mistresses of all things, but which you +make out to be only the satellites and handmaidens of pleasures? +The sentence, however, of all these qualities, will +pronounce first of all, respecting pleasure, that there is no +room for it; not only no room for its being placed by itself +in the rank of the chief good, which is what we are looking +for, but no room even for its being placed in connexion even +with what is honourable. +</p> + +<p> +The same sentence will be passed upon freedom from pain; +Carneades also will be disregarded; nor will any definition of +the chief good be approved of, which has any close connexion +with pleasure, or freedom from pain, or which is devoid of +what is honourable. And so it will leave two, which it will +consider over and over again; for it will either lay down the +maxim, that nothing is good except what is honourable, +nothing evil except what is disgraceful; that everything else +is either of no consequence at all, or, at all events, of only so +much, that it is neither to be sought after nor avoided, but +only selected or rejected; or else, it will prefer that which it +<pb n='143'/><anchor id='Pg143'/> +shall perceive to be the most richly endowed with what is +honourable, and enriched, at the same time, with the primary +good things of nature, and with the perfection of the +whole life; and it will do so all the more clearly, if it comes +to a right understanding whether the controversy between +them is one of facts, or only of words. +</p> + +<p> +XIII. I now, following the authority of this man, will do the +same as he has done; for, as far as I can, I will diminish the +disputes, and will regard all their simple opinions in which +there is no association of virtue, as judgments which ought to +be utterly removed to a distance from philosophy. First of +all, I will discard the principles of Aristippus, and of all the +Cyrenaics,—men who were not afraid to place the chief good +in that pleasure which especially excited the senses with its +sweetness, disregarding that freedom from pain. These men did +not perceive that, as a horse is born for galloping, and an ox +for ploughing, and a dog for hunting, so man, also, is born for +two objects, as Aristotle says, namely, for understanding and +for acting as if he were a kind of mortal god. But, on the +other hand, as a slow moving and languid sheep is born to +feed, and to take pleasure in propagating his species, they +fancied also that this divine animal was born for the same +purposes; than which nothing can appear to me more absurd; +and all this is in opposition to Aristippus, who considers that +pleasure not only the highest, but also the only one, which +all the rest of us consider as only one of the pleasures. +</p> + +<p> +You, however, think differently; but he, as I have already +said, is egregiously wrong,—for neither does the figure of the +human body, nor the admirable reasoning powers of the +human mind, intimate that man was born for no other end +than the mere enjoyment of pleasure; nor must we listen to +Hieronymus, whose chief good is the same which you sometimes, +or, I might say, too often call so, namely, freedom from +pain; for it does not follow, because pain is an evil, that to +be free from that evil is sufficient for living well. Ennius +speaks more correctly, when he says,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>The man who feels no evil, does</l> +<l>Enjoy too great a good.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Let us define a happy life as consisting, not in the repelling +of evil, but in the acquisition of good; and let us seek to +procure it, not by doing nothing, whether one is feeling pleasure, +<pb n='144'/><anchor id='Pg144'/> +as Aristippus says, or feeling no pain, as Hieronymus +insists, but by doing something, and giving our mind to +thought. And all these same things may be said against that +chief good which Carneades calls such; which he, however, +brought forward, not so much for the purpose of proving his +position, as of contradicting the Stoics, with whom he was +at variance: and this good of his is such, that, when added +to virtue, it appears likely to have some authority, and to +be able to perfect a happy life in a most complete manner, +and it is this that the whole of this present discussion is +about; for they who add to virtue pleasure, which is the +thing which above all others virtue thinks of small importance, +or freedom from pain, which, even if it be a freedom from evil, +is nevertheless not the chief good, make use of an addition +which is not very easily recommended to men in general, and +yet I do not understand why they do it in such a niggardly +and restricted manner: for, as if they had to bring something +to add to virtue, first of all they add things of the least possible +value; afterwards they add things one by one, instead of +uniting everything which nature had approved of as the highest +goods, to pleasure. And as all these things appeared to +Aristo and to Pyrrho absolutely of no consequence at all, so +that they said that there was literally no difference whatever +between being in a most perfect state of health, and in a most +terrible condition of disease, people rightly enough have long +ago given up arguing against them; for, while they insisted +upon it that everything was comprised in virtue alone, to such +a degree as to deprive it of all power of making any selection +of external circumstances, and while they gave it nothing from +which it could originate, or on which it could rely, they in +reality destroyed virtue itself, which they were professing to +embrace. But Herillus, who sought to refer everything to +knowledge, saw, indeed, that there was one good, but what +he saw was not the greatest possible good, nor such an one +that life could be regulated by it; therefore, he also has been +discarded a long time ago, for, indeed, there has been no one +who has argued against him since Chrysippus. +</p> + +<p> +XIV. Your school, then, is now the only one remaining to +be combated; for the contest with the Academicians is an +uncertain one, for they affirm nothing, and, as if they +despaired of arriving at any certain knowledge, wish to follow +<pb n='145'/><anchor id='Pg145'/> +whatever is probable. But we have more trouble with +Epicurus, because he combines two kinds of pleasure, and +because he and his friends, and many others since, have been +advocates of that opinion; and somehow or other, the people, +who, though they have the least authority, have nevertheless +the greatest power, are on his side; and, unless we refute +them, all virtue, and all reputation, and all true glory, must +be abandoned. And so, having put aside the opinions of all +the rest, there remains a contest, not between Torquatus +and me, but between virtue and pleasure; and this contest +Chrysippus, a man of great acuteness and great industry, is +far from despising; and he thinks that the whole question as +to the chief good is at stake in this controversy: but I think, +if I show the reality of what is honourable, and that it is a +thing to be sought for by reason of its own intrinsic excellence, +and for its own sake, that all your arguments are at once +overthrown; therefore, when I have once established what its +character is, speaking briefly, as the time requires, I shall +approach all your arguments, O Torquatus, unless my memory +fails me. +</p> + +<p> +We understand, then, that to be honourable which is such +that, leaving all advantage out of the question, it can be +deservedly praised by itself, without thinking of any reward +or profit derived from it. And what its character is may be +understood, not so much by the definition which I have +employed, (although that may help in some degree,) as by the +common sentiments of all men, and by the zeal and conduct +of every virtuous man; for such do many things for this sole +reason, because they are becoming, because they are right, +because they are honourable, even though they do not perceive +any advantage likely to result from them: for men differ +from beasts in many other things indeed, but especially in +this one particular, that they have reason and intellect given +to them by nature, and a mind, active, vigorous, revolving +many things at the same time with the greatest rapidity, and, +if I may so say, sagacious to perceive the causes of things, and +their consequences and connexions, and to use metaphors, and +to combine things which are unconnected, and to connect the +future with the present, and to embrace in its view the whole +course of a consistent life. The same reason has also made +man desirous of the society of men, and inclined to agree with +<pb n='146'/><anchor id='Pg146'/> +them by nature, and conversation, and custom; so that, setting +out with affection for his friends and relations, he proceeds +further, and unites himself in a society, first of all of his +fellow-countrymen, and subsequently of all mortals; and as +Plato wrote to Archytas, recollects that he has been born, +not for himself alone, but for his country and his family; so +that there is but a small portion of himself left for himself. +And since the same nature has implanted in man a desire of +ascertaining the truth, which is most easily visible when, +being free from all cares, we wish to know what is taking +place, even in the heavens; led on from these beginnings we +love everything that is true, that is to say, that is faithful, +simple, consistent, and we hate what is vain, false and deceitful, +such as fraud, perjury, cunning and injustice. +</p> + +<p> +The same reason has in itself something large and magnificent, +suited for command rather than for obedience; thinking +all events which can befal a man not only endurable, but +insignificant; something lofty and sublime, fearing nothing, +yielding to no one, always invincible. And, when these three +kinds of the honourable have been noticed, a fourth follows, +of the same beauty and suited to the other three, in which +order and moderation exist; and when the likeness of it to +the others is perceived in the beauty and dignity of all their +separate forms, we are transported across to what is honourable +in words and actions; for, in consequence of these three +virtues which I have already mentioned, a man avoids rashness, +and does not venture to injure any one by any wanton +word or action, and is afraid either to do or to say anything +which may appear at all unsuited to the dignity of a man. +</p> + +<p> +XV. Here, now, O Torquatus, you have a picture of what +is honourable completely filled in and finished; and it is contained +wholly in these four virtues which you also mentioned. +But your master Epicurus says that he knows nothing whatever +of it, and does not understand what, or what sort of +quality those people assert it to be, who profess to measure +the chief good by the standard of what is honourable. For +if everything is referred to that, and if they say that pleasure +has no part in it, then he says that they are talking idly, +(these are his very words,) and do not understand or see what +real meaning ought to be conveyed under this word honourable; +for, as custom has it, he says that that alone is honourable +<pb n='147'/><anchor id='Pg147'/> +which is accounted glorious by common report; and +that, says he, although it is often more pleasant than some +pleasures, still is sought for the sake of pleasure. Do you not +see how greatly these two parties differ? A noble philosopher, +by whom not only Greece and Italy, but all the countries of +the barbarians are influenced, says that he does not understand +what honourableness is, if it be not in pleasure, unless, +perchance, it is that thing which is praised by the common +conversation of the populace. But my opinion is, that this +is often even dishonourable, and that real honourableness is +not called so from the circumstance of its being praised by +the many, but because it is such a thing that even if men +were unacquainted with it, or if they said nothing about it, +it would still be praiseworthy by reason of its own intrinsic +beauty and excellence. +</p> + +<p> +And so he again, being forced to yield to the power of +nature, which is always irresistible, says in another place +what you also said a little while ago,—that a man cannot live +pleasantly unless he also lives honourably. Now then, what is +the meaning of honourably? does it mean the same as pleasantly? +If so, this statement will come to this, that a man +cannot live honourably unless he lives honourably. Is it +honourably according to public report? Therefore he affirms +that a man cannot live pleasantly without he has public report +in his favour. What can be more shameful than for the +life of a wise man to depend on the conversation of fools? +What is it, then, that in this place he understands by the +word honourable? Certainly nothing except what can be +deservedly praised for its own sake; for if it be praised for +the sake of pleasure, then what sort of praise, I should like +to know, is that which can be sought for in the shambles? +He is not a man, while he places honourableness in such a +rank that he affirms it to be impossible to live pleasantly +without it, to think that honourable which is popular, and to +affirm that one cannot live pleasantly without popularity; or +to understand by the word honourable anything except what is +right, and deservedly to be praised by itself and for itself, from +a regard to its own power and influence and intrinsic nature. +</p> + +<p> +XVI. Therefore, Torquatus, when you said that Epicurus +asserted loudly that a man could not live pleasantly if he +did not also live honourably, and wisely, and justly, you +<pb n='148'/><anchor id='Pg148'/> +appeared to me to be boasting yourself. There was such +energy in your words, on account of the dignity of those things +which were indicated by those words, that you became taller, +that you rose up, and fixed your eyes upon us as if you were +giving a solemn testimony that honourableness and justice +are sometimes praised by Epicurus. How becoming was it +to you to use that language, which is so necessary for philosophers, +that if they did not use it we should have no great +need of philosophy at all! For it is out of love for those +words, which are very seldom employed by Epicurus—I mean +wisdom, fortitude, justice, and temperance—that men of the +most admirable powers of mind have betaken themselves to +the study of philosophy. +</p> + +<p> +<q>The sense of our eyes,</q> says Plato, <q>is most acute in us; +but yet we do not see wisdom with them. What a vehement +passion for itself would it excite if it could be beheld by the +eyes!</q> Why so? Because it is so ingenious as to be able +to devise pleasures in the most skilful manner. Why is justice +extolled? or what is it that has given rise to that old +and much-worn proverb, <q>He is a man with whom you may +play<note place='foot'>The Latin is <q>quicum in tenebris,</q>—the +proverb at full length being, <q>Dignus quicum in tenebris mices.</q> +Micare was a game played, (much the same as that now called +<foreign lang='it' rend='italic'>La Mora</foreign> in Italy,) by extending +the fingers and making the antagonist guess how many fingers were +extended by the two together.</note> in the dark.</q> This, though applied to only one +thing, has a very extensive application; so that in every case we are +influenced by the facts, and not by the witness. +</p> + +<p> +For those things which you were saying were very weak +and powerless arguments,—when you urged that the wicked +were tormented by their own consciences, and also by fear of +punishment, which is either inflicted on them, or keeps them +in constant fear that it will be inflicted. One ought not to +imagine a man timid, or weak in his mind, nor a good man, +who, whatever he has done, keeps tormenting himself, and +dreads everything; but rather let us fancy one, who with +great shrewdness refers everything to usefulness—an acute, +crafty, wary man, able with ease to devise plans for deceiving +any one secretly, without any witness, or any one being privy +to it. Do you think that I am speaking of Lucius Tubulus?—who, +when as prætor he had been sitting as judge upon the +<pb n='149'/><anchor id='Pg149'/> +trial of some assassins, took money to influence his decision +so undisguisedly, that the next year Publius Scævola, being +tribune of the people, made a motion before the people, that +an inquiry should be made into the case. In accordance with +which decree of the people, Cnæus Cæpio, the consul, was +ordered by the senate to investigate the affair. Tubulus immediately +went into banishment, and did not dare to make any +reply to the charge, for the matter was notorious. +</p> + +<p> +XVII. We are not, therefore, inquiring about a man who +is merely wicked, but about one who mingles cunning with +his wickedness, (as Quintus Pompeius<note place='foot'>This was +Quintus Pompeius, the first man who raised his family to importance at Rome. +He was consul <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 141. Being commander +in Spain, he laid siege to Numantia; and having lost great numbers +of his troops through cold and disease, he proposed to the Numantines +to come to terms. Publicly he required of them an unconditional +surrender, but in private he only demanded the restoration of the +prisoners and deserters, that they should give hostages and pay thirty +talents. The Numantines agreed to this, and paid part of the money, +but when Popilius Lænas arrived in Spain as his successor, he denied +the treaty, though it had been witnessed by his own officers. The +matter was referred to the senate, who on the evidence of Pompeius +declared the treaty invalid, and the war was renewed.</note> did when he repudiated +the treaty of Numantia,) and yet who is not afraid of everything, +but who has rather no regard for the stings of conscience, +which it costs him no trouble at all to stifle; for +a man who is called close and secret is so far from informing +against himself, that he will even pretend to grieve at what +is done wrong by another; for what else is the meaning of the +word crafty (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>versutus</foreign>)? +I recollect on one occasion being +present at a consultation held by Publius Sextilius Rufus, +when he reported the case on which he asked advice to his +friends in this manner: That he had been left heir to Quintus +Fadius Gallus; in whose will it had been written that he had +entreated Sextilius to take care that what he left behind him +should come to his daughter. Sextilius denied that he had +done so. He could deny it with impunity, for who was there +to convict him? None of us believed him; and it was more +likely that he should tell a lie whose interest it was to do so, +than he who had set down in his will that he had made the +request which he ought to have made. He added, moreover, +that having sworn to comply with the Voconian<note place='foot'>The Voconia lex +was passed on the proposal of Quintus Voconius Saxa, one of the tribunes, +<hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 169. One of its provisions was, that a +woman could not be left the heiress of any person who was rated in the +census at 100,000 sesterces; though she could take the inheritance +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>per fidei commissum</foreign>. But as the +law applied only to wills, a daughter could inherit from a father dying intestate, +whatever the amount of his property might be. A person who was not +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>census</foreign> could make a woman +his heir. There is, however, a good deal of obscurity and uncertainty +as to some of the provisions of this law.</note> law, he did +<pb n='150'/><anchor id='Pg150'/> +not dare to violate it, unless his friends were of a contrary +opinion. I myself was very young when I was present on +this occasion, but there were present also many men of the +highest character, not one of whom thought that more ought +to be given to Fadia than could come to her under the provisions +of the Voconian law. Sextilius retained a very large +inheritance; of which, if he had followed the opinion of those +men who preferred what was right and honourable to all +profit and advantage, he would never have touched a single +penny. Do you think that he was afterwards anxious and +uneasy in his mind on that account? Not a bit of it: on +the contrary, he was a rich man, owing to that inheritance, +and he rejoiced in his riches, for he set a great value on +money which was acquired not only without violating the +laws, but even by the law. And money is what you also +think worth seeking for, even with great risk, for it is the +efficient cause of many and great pleasures. As, therefore, +every danger appears fit to be encountered for the sake of +what is becoming and honourable, by those who decide that +what is right and honourable is to be sought for its own sake; +so the men of your school, who measure everything by pleasure, +must encounter every danger in order to acquire great +pleasures, if any great property or any important inheritance +is at stake, since numerous pleasures are procured by money. +And your master Epicurus must, if he wishes to pursue +what he himself considers the chief of all good things, do the +same that Scipio did, who had a prospect of great glory before +him if he could compel Annibal to return into Africa. And +with this view, what great dangers did he encounter! for he +measured the whole of his enterprise by the standard of +honour, not of pleasure. And in like manner, your wise +man, being excited by the prospect of some advantage, will +fight<note place='foot'>There appears to be some corruption in +the text here.</note> courageously, if it should be necessary. If his exploits +<pb n='151'/><anchor id='Pg151'/> +are undiscovered, he will rejoice; if he is taken, he will +despise every kind of punishment, for he will be thoroughly +armed for a contempt of death, banishment, and even of pain, +which you indeed represent as intolerable when you hold it +out to wicked men as a punishment, but as endurable when +you argue that a wise man has always more good than evil +in his fortune. +</p> + +<p> +XVIII. But picture to yourself a man not only cunning, +so as to be prepared to act dishonestly in any circumstances +that may arise, but also exceedingly powerful; as, for instance, +Marcus Crassus was, who, however, always exercised his own +natural good disposition; or as at this day our friend Pompeius +is, to whom we ought to feel grateful for his virtuous +conduct; for, although he is inclined to act justly, he could +be unjust with perfect impunity. But how many unjust +actions can be committed which nevertheless no one could +find any ground for attacking! Suppose your friend, when +dying, has entreated you to restore his inheritance to his +daughter, and yet has never set it down in his will, as Fadius +did, and has never mentioned to any one that he has done so, +what will you do? You indeed will restore it. Perhaps +Epicurus himself would have restored it; just as Sextus +Peducæus the son of Sextus did; he who has left behind him +a son, our intimate friend, a living image of his own virtue +and honesty, a learned person, and the most virtuous and +upright of all men; for he, though no one was aware that he +had been entreated by Caius Plotius, a Roman knight of high +character and great fortune, of the district of Nursia, to do +so, came of his own accord to his widow, and, though she +had no notion of the fact, detailed to her the commission +which he had received from her husband, and made over the +inheritance to her. But I ask you (since you would certainly +have acted in the same manner yourself), do you not understand +that the power of nature is all the greater, inasmuch as +you yourselves, who refer everything to your own advantage, +and, as you yourselves say, to pleasure, still perform actions +from which it is evident that you are guided not by pleasure, +but by principles of duty, and that your own upright nature +has more influence over you than any vicious reasoning? +</p> + +<p> +If you knew, says Carneades, that a snake was lying hid +in any place, and that some one was going ignorantly to sit +<pb n='152'/><anchor id='Pg152'/> +down upon it whose death would bring you some advantage, +you would be acting wickedly if you did not warn him not to +sit down there; and yet you could not be punished, for who +could possibly convict you? However, I am dwelling too +long on this point; for it is evident, unless equity, good faith +and justice proceed from nature, and if all these things are +referred to advantage, that a good man cannot possibly be +found. But on this subject we have put a sufficient number +of arguments into the mouth of Lælius, in our books on a +Republic. +</p> + +<p> +XIX. Now apply the same arguments to modesty, or temperance, +which is a moderation of the appetites, in subordination +to reason. Can we say that a man pays sufficient regard +to the dictates of modesty, who indulges his lusts in such a +manner as to have no witnesses of his conduct? or is there +anything which is intrinsically flagitious, even if no loss of +reputation ensues? What do brave men do? Do they enter +into an exact calculation of pleasure, and so enter the battle, +and shed their blood for their country? or are they excited +rather by a certain ardour and impetuosity of courage? Do +you think, O Torquatus, that that imperious ancestor of +yours, if he could hear what we are now saying, would rather +listen to your sentiments concerning him, or to mine, when +I said that he had done nothing for his own sake, but everything +for that of the republic; and you, on the contrary, +affirm that he did nothing except with a view to his own +advantage? But if you were to wish to explain yourself further, +and were to say openly that he did nothing except for +the sake of pleasure, how do you think that he would bear +such an assertion? +</p> + +<p> +Be it so. Let Torquatus, if you will, have acted solely +with a view to his own advantage, for I would rather employ +that expression than pleasure, especially when speaking of so +eminent a man,—did his colleague too, Publius Decius, the +first man who ever was consul in that family, did he, I say, +when he was devoting himself, and rushing at the full speed +of his horse into the middle of the army of the Latins, think +at all of his own pleasures? For where or when was he to +find any, when he knew that he should perish immediately, +and when he was seeking that death with more eager zeal +than Epicurus thinks even pleasure deserving to be sought +<pb n='153'/><anchor id='Pg153'/> +with? And unless this exploit of his had been deservedly +extolled, his son would not have imitated it in his fourth +consulship; nor, again, would his son, when fighting against +Pyrrhus, have fallen in battle when he was consul, and so +offered himself up for the sake of the republic as a third +victim in an uninterrupted succession from the same family. +I will forbear giving any more examples. I might get a few +from the Greeks, such as Leonidas, Epaminondas, and three +or four more perhaps. And if I were to begin hunting up +our own annals for such instances, I should soon establish +my point, and compel Pleasure to give herself up, bound +hand and foot, to virtue. But the day would be too short +for me. And as Aulus Varius, who was considered a rather +severe judge, was in the habit of saying to his colleague, +when, after some witnesses had been produced, others were +still being summoned, <q>Either we have had witnesses enough, +or I do not know what is enough;</q> so I think that I have +now brought forward witnesses enough. +</p> + +<p> +For, what will you say? Was it pleasure that worked +upon you, a man thoroughly worthy of your ancestors, while +still a young man, to rob Publius Sylla of the consulship? +And when you had succeeded in procuring it for your father, +a most gallant man, what a consul did he prove, and what a +citizen at all times, and most especially after his consulship! +And, indeed, it was by his advice that we ourselves behaved +in such a manner as to consult the advantage of the whole +body of the citizens rather than our own. +</p> + +<p> +But how admirably did you seem to speak, when on the +one side you drew a picture of a man loaded with the most +numerous and excessive pleasures, with no pain, either present +or future; and on the other, of a man surrounded with the +greatest torments affecting his whole body, with no pleasure, +either present or hoped for; and asked who could be more +miserable than the one, or more happy than the other? and +then concluded, that pain was the greatest evil, and pleasure +the greatest good. +</p> + +<p> +XX. There was a man of Lanuvium, called Lucius Thorius +Balbus, whom you cannot remember; he lived in such a way +that no pleasure could be imagined so exquisite, that he had +not a superfluity of it. He was greedy of pleasure, a critical +judge of every species of it, and very rich. So far removed +<pb n='154'/><anchor id='Pg154'/> +from all superstition, as to despise the numerous sacrifices +which take place, and temples which exist in his country; so +far from fearing death, that he was slain in battle fighting for +the republic. He bounded his appetites, not according to the +division of Epicurus, but by his own feelings of satiety. He +took sufficient exercise always to come to supper both thirsty +and hungry. He ate such food as was at the same time +nicest in taste and most easy of digestion; and selected such +wine as gave him pleasure, and was, at the same time, free +from hurtful qualities. He had all those other means and +appliances which Epicurus thinks so necessary, that he says +that if they are denied, he cannot understand what is good. He +was free from every sort of pain; and if he had felt any, he +would not have borne it impatiently, though he would have +been more inclined to consult a physician than a philosopher. +He was a man of a beautiful complexion, of perfect health, +of the greatest influence, in short, his whole life was one +uninterrupted scene of every possible variety of pleasures. +Now, you call this man happy. Your principles compel you +to do so. But as for me, I will not, indeed, venture to name +the man whom I prefer to him—Virtue herself shall speak +for me, and she will not hesitate to rank Marcus Regulus +before this happy man of yours. For Virtue asserts loudly +that this man, when, of his own accord, under no compulsion, +except that of the pledge which he had given to the enemy, +he had returned to Carthage, was, at the very moment when +he was being tortured with sleeplessness and hunger, more +happy than Thorius while drinking on a bed of roses. +</p> + +<p> +Regulus had had the conduct of great wars; he had been +twice consul; he had had a triumph; and yet he did not +think those previous exploits of his so great or so glorious +as that last misfortune which he incurred, because of his own +good faith and constancy; a misfortune which appears pitiable +to us who hear of it, but was actually pleasant to him who +endured it. For men are happy, not because of hilarity, or +lasciviousness, or laughter, or jesting, the companion of levity, +but often even through sorrow endured with firmness and +constancy. Lucretia, having been ravished by force by the +king's son, called her fellow-citizens to witness, and slew +herself. This grief of hers, Brutus being the leader and +mover of the Roman people, was the cause of liberty to the +<pb n='155'/><anchor id='Pg155'/> +whole state. And out of regard for the memory of that +woman, her husband and her father were made consuls<note place='foot'>Spurius +Lucretius Tricipitinus, the father of Lucretia, was made +consul as the colleague of Valerius Publicola, in the place of Brutus, +who had been slain in battle by Aruns, one of the sons of Tarquin.</note> the +first year of the republic. Lucius Virginius, a man of small +property and one of the people, sixty years after the reestablishment +of liberty, slew his virgin daughter with his own +hand, rather than allow her to be surrendered to the lust of +Appius Claudius, who was at that time invested with the +supreme power. +</p> + +<p> +XXI. Now you, O Torquatus, must either blame all these +actions, or else you must abandon the defence of pleasure. +And what a cause is that, and what a task does the man +undertake who comes forward as the advocate of pleasure, +who is unable to call any one illustrious man as evidence in +her favour or as a witness to her character? For as we have +awakened those men from the records of our annals as +witnesses, whose whole life has been consumed in glorious +labours; men who cannot bear to hear the very name of +pleasure: so on your side of the argument history is dumb. +I have never heard of Lycurgus, or Solon, Miltiades, or +Themistocles, or Epaminondas being mentioned in the school +of Epicurus; men whose names are constantly in the mouth +of all the other philosophers. But now, since we have begun +to deal with this part of the question, our friend Atticus, out +of his treasures, will supply us with the names of as many +great men as may be sufficient for us to bring forward as +witnesses. Is it not better to say a little of these men, than +so many volumes about Themista?<note place='foot'>Themista was +a female philosopher, wife of a man named Leonteus, or Leon, and a +friend and correspondent of Epicurus.</note> Let these things be confined +to the Greeks: although we have derived philosophy +and all the liberal sciences from them, still there are things +which may be allowable for them to do, but not for us. The +Stoics are at variance with the Peripatetics. One sect denies +that anything is good which is not also honourable: the +other asserts that it allows great weight, indeed, by far the +most weight, to what is honourable, but still affirms that +there are in the body also, and around the body, certain +positive goods. It is an honourable contest and a splendid +<pb n='156'/><anchor id='Pg156'/> +discussion. For the whole question is about the dignity of +virtue. +</p> + +<p> +But when one is arguing with philosophers of your school, +one is forced to hear a great deal about even the obscure +pleasures which Epicurus himself continually mentions. You +cannot then, Torquatus, believe me, you cannot uphold those +principles, if you examine into yourself, and your own +thoughts and studies. You will, I say, be ashamed of that +picture which Cleanthes was in the habit of drawing with +such accuracy in his description. He used to desire those +who came to him as his pupils, to think of Pleasure painted +in a picture, clad in beautiful robes, with royal ornaments, +and sitting on a throne. He represented all the Virtues +around her, as her handmaidens, doing nothing else, and +thinking nothing else their duty, but to minister to Pleasure, +and only just to whisper in her ear (if, indeed, that could be +made intelligible in a picture) a warning to be on her guard +to do nothing imprudent, nothing to offend the minds of +men, nothing from which any pain could ensue. We, indeed, +they would say, we Virtues are only born to act as your +slaves; we have no other business. +</p> + +<p> +XXII. But Epicurus (for this is your great point) denies +that any man who does not live honourably can live agreeably; +as if I cared what he denies or what he affirms. What +I inquire is, what it is consistent for that man to say who +places the chief good in pleasure. What reason do you +allege why Thorius, why Chius, why Postumius, why the +master of all these men, Orata, did not live most agreeably? +He himself, as I have already said, asserts that the life of +men devoted to luxury is not deserving of blame, unless they +are absolute fools, that is to say, unless they abandon themselves +to become slaves to their desires or to their fears. And +when he promises them a remedy for both these things, he, +in so doing, offers them a licence for luxury. For if you take +away these things, then he says that he cannot find anything +in the life of debauched men which deserves blame. You +then, who regulate everything by the standard of pleasure, +cannot either defend or maintain virtue. For he does not +deserve to be accounted a virtuous or a just man who +abstains from injustice in order to avoid suffering evil. You +know the line, I suppose— +</p> + +<pb n='157'/><anchor id='Pg157'/> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>He's not a pious man whom fear constrains</l> +<l>To acts of piety ... a man—</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +And nothing can be more true. For a man is not just while +he is in a state of alarm. And certainly when he ceases to +be in fear, he will not be just. But he will not be afraid if he +is able to conceal his actions, or if he is able, by means of his +great riches and power, to support what he has done. And +he will certainly prefer being regarded as a good man, though +he is not one, to being a good man and not being thought +one. And so, beyond all question, instead of genuine and +active justice, you give us only an effigy of justice, and you +teach us, as it were, to disregard our own unvarying conscience, +and to go hunting after the fleeting vagabond opinions +of others. +</p> + +<p> +And the same may be said of the other virtues also; the +foundation of all which you place in pleasure, which is like +building on water. For what are we to say? Can we call +that same Torquatus a brave man? For I am delighted, +though I cannot, as you say, bribe you; I am delighted with +your family and with your name. And, in truth, I have +before my eyes Aulus Torquatus,<note place='foot'>He means when he was +banished, and when Torquatus joined in promoting the measures +for his recal.</note> a most excellent man, and +one greatly attached to me; and both of you must certainly +be aware how great and how eminent his zeal in my behalf +was in those times which are well known to every one. And +that conduct of his would not have been delightful to me, +who wish both to be, and to be considered, grateful, if I did +not see clearly that he was friendly to me for my own sake, +not for his own; unless, indeed, you say, it was for his own +sake, because it is for the interest of every one to act rightly. +If you say that, we have gained our point. For what we are +aiming at, what we are contending for, is, that duty itself is +the reward of duty. But that master of yours will not +admit this, and requires pleasure to result from every action +as a sort of wages. +</p> + +<p> +However, I return to him. If it was for the sake of +pleasure that Torquatus, when challenged, fought with the +Gaul on the Anio, and out of his spoils took his chain and +earned his surname, or if it was for any other reason but that +he thought such exploits worthy of a man, then I do not +<pb n='158'/><anchor id='Pg158'/> +account him brave. And, indeed, if modesty, and decency, +and chastity, and, in one word, temperance, is only upheld by +the fear of punishment or infamy, and not out of regard to +their own sanctity, then what lengths will adultery and +debauchery and lust shrink from proceeding to, if there is a +hope either of escaping detection, or of obtaining impunity +or licence? +</p> + +<p> +What shall I say more? What is your idea, O Torquatus, +of this?—that you, a man of your name, of your abilities, of +your high reputation, should not dare to allege in a public +assembly what you do, what you think, what you contend for, +the standard to which you refer everything, the object for the +sake of which you wish to accomplish what you attempt, and +what you think best in life. For what can you claim to +deserve, when you have entered upon your magistracy, and +come forward to the assembly, (for then you will have to +announce what principles you intend to observe in administering +the law, and perhaps, too, if you think fit, you will, as is +the ancient custom, say something about your ancestors and +yourself,)—what, I say, can you claim as your just desert, if +you say that in that magistracy you will do everything for +the sake of pleasure? and that you have never done anything +all your life except with a view to pleasure? Do you think, +say you, that I am so mad as to speak in that way before +ignorant people? Well, say it then in the court of justice, or +if you are afraid of the surrounding audience, say it in the +senate: you will never do so. Why not, except that such +language is disgraceful? Do you then think Triarius and me +fit people for you to speak before in a disgraceful manner? +</p> + +<p> +XXIII. However, be it so. The name of pleasure certainly +has no dignity in it, and perhaps we do not exactly +understand what is meant by it; for you are constantly saying that +we do not understand what you mean by the word pleasure: +no doubt it is a very difficult and obscure matter. When +you speak of atoms, and spaces between worlds, things which +do not exist, and which cannot possibly exist, then we understand +you; and cannot we understand what pleasure is, a +thing which is known to every sparrow? What will you say +if I compel you to confess that I not only do know what +pleasure is (for it is a pleasant emotion affecting the senses), +but also what you mean by the word? For at one time you +<pb n='159'/><anchor id='Pg159'/> +mean by the word the very same thing which I have just +said, and you give it the description of consisting in motion, +and of causing some variety: at another time you speak of +some other highest pleasure, which is susceptible of no addition +whatever, but that it is present when every sort of pain is +absent, and you call it then a state, not a motion: let that, +then, be pleasure. Say, in any assembly you please, that you +do everything with a view to avoid suffering pain: if you do +not think that even this language is sufficiently dignified, or +sufficiently honourable, say that you will do everything during +your year of office, and during your whole life, for the sake of +your own advantage; that you will do nothing except what +is profitable to yourself, nothing which is not prompted by a +view to your own interest. What an uproar do you not +suppose such a declaration would excite in the assembly, and +what hope do you think you would have of the consulship +which is ready for you? And can you follow these principles, +which, when by yourself, or in conversation with your dearest +friends, you do not dare to profess and avow openly? But +you have those maxims constantly in your mouth which the +Peripatetics and Stoics profess. In the courts of justice and +in the senate you speak of duty, equity, dignity, good faith, +uprightness, honourable actions, conduct worthy of power, +worthy of the Roman people; you talk of encountering every +imaginable danger in the cause of the republic—of dying for +one's country. When you speak in this manner we are all +amazed, like a pack of blockheads, and you are laughing +in your sleeve: for, among all those high-sounding and +admirable expressions, pleasure has no place, not only that +pleasure which you say consists in motion, and which all +men, whether living in cities or in the country, all men, +in short, who speak Latin, call pleasure, but even that +stationary pleasure, which no one but your sect calls pleasure +at all. +</p> + +<p> +XXIV. Take care lest you find yourselves obliged to use +our language, though adhering to your own opinions. But if +you were to put on a feigned countenance or gait, with the +object of appearing more dignified, you would not then be like +yourself; and yet are you to use fictitious language, and to +say things which you do not think, or, as you have one dress +to wear at home, and another in which you appear in court, +<pb n='160'/><anchor id='Pg160'/> +are you to disguise your opinions in a similar manner, so as +to make a parade with your countenance, while you are +keeping the truth hidden within? Consider, I intreat you, +whether this is proper. My opinion is that those are genuine +sentiments which are honourable, which are praiseworthy, +which are creditable; which a man is not ashamed to avow +in the senate, before the people, in every company and every +assembly, so that he will be ashamed to think what he is +ashamed to say. +</p> + +<p> +But what room can there be for friendship, or who can be +a friend to any one whom he does not love for his own sake? +And what is loving, from which verb (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>amo</foreign>) +the very name of friendship (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>amicitia</foreign>) +is derived, but wishing a certain person +to enjoy the greatest possible good fortune, even if none of it +accrues to oneself? Still, you say, it is a good thing for me +to be of such a disposition. Perhaps it may be so; but you +cannot be so if it is not really your disposition; and how can +you be so unless love itself has seized hold of you? which is not +usually generated by any accurate computation of advantage, +but is self-produced, and born spontaneously from itself. But, +you will say, I am guided by prospects of advantage. Friendship, +then, will remain just as long as any advantage ensues +from it; and if it be a principle of advantage which is the +foundation of friendship, the same will be its destruction. +But what will you do, if, as is often the case, advantage takes +the opposite side to friendship? Will you abandon it? what +sort of friendship is that? Will you preserve it? how will that +be expedient for you? For you see what the rules are which +you lay down respecting friendship which is desirable only for +the sake of one's own advantage:—I must take care that I do +not incur odium if I cease to uphold my friend. Now, in the first +place, why should such conduct incur odium, except because +it is disgraceful? But, if you will not desert your friend lest +you should incur any disadvantage from so doing, still you +will wish that he was dead, to release you from being bound +to a man from whom you get no advantage. But suppose he +not only brings you no advantage, but you even incur loss of +property for his sake, and have to undertake labours, and to +encounter danger of your life; will you not, even then, show +some regard for yourself, and recollect that every one is born +for himself and for his own pleasures? Will you go bail to a +<pb n='161'/><anchor id='Pg161'/> +tyrant for your friend in a case which may affect your life, as +that Pythagorean<note place='foot'>Cicero alludes here +to the story of Damon, who, when his friend +Pythias was condemned to death by Dionysius of Syracuse, pledged his +life for his return in time to be put to death, if the tyrant would give +him leave to go home for the purpose of arranging his affairs, and +Pythias did return in time.—See Cic. de Off. iii. 10; Just. +Div. v. 22.</note> did when he became surety to the Tyrant +of Sicily? or, when you are Pylades, will you affirm that you +are Orestes, that you may die for your friend? or, if you were +Orestes, would you contradict Pylades, and give yourself up? +and, if you could not succeed then, would you intreat that +you might be both put to death together? +</p> + +<p> +XXV. You, indeed, O Torquatus, would do all these things. +For I do not think that there is anything deserving of great +praise, which you would be likely to shrink from out of fear +of death or pain: nor is it the question what is consistent +with your nature, but with the doctrines of your school—that +philosophy which you defend, those precepts which you have +learnt, and which you profess to approve of, utterly overthrow +friendship—even though Epicurus should, as indeed he does, +extol it to the skies. Oh, you will say, but he himself cultivated +friendship. As if any one denied that he was a good, +and courteous, and kind-hearted man; the question in these +discussions turns on his genius, and not on his morals. Grant +that there is such perversity in the levity of the Greeks, who +attack those men with evil speaking with whom they disagree +as to the truth of a proposition. But, although he may have +been courteous in maintaining friendships, still, if all this is +true, (for I do not affirm anything myself), he was not a very +acute arguer. Oh, but he convinced many people. And +perhaps it was quite right that he should; still, the testimony +of the multitude is not of the greatest possible weight; for in +every art, or study, or science, as in virtue itself, whatever is +most excellent is also most rare. And to me, indeed, the very +fact of he himself having been a good man, and of many +Epicureans having also been such, and being to this day +faithful in their friendships, and consistent throughout their +whole lives, and men of dignified conduct, regulating their +lives, not by pleasure, but by their duty, appears to show that +the power of what is honourable is greater, and that of pleasure +smaller. For some men live in such a manner that their +language is refuted by their lives; and as others are considered +<pb n='162'/><anchor id='Pg162'/> +to speak better than they act, so these men seem to me to act +better than they speak. +</p> + +<p> +XXVI. However, all this is nothing to the purpose. Let +us just consider those things which have been said by you +about friendship, and among them I fancied that I recognized +one thing as having been said by Epicurus himself, namely, +that friendship cannot be separated from pleasure, and that it +ought on that account to be cultivated, because without it +men could not live in safety, and without fear, nor even with +any kind of pleasantness. Answer enough has been given to +this argument. You also brought forward another more +humane one, invented by these more modern philosophers, +and never, as far as I know, advanced by the master himself, +that at first, indeed, a friend is sought out with a view to +one's own advantage, but that when intimacy has sprung up, +then the man is loved for himself, all hope or idea of pleasure +being put out of the question. Now, although this argument is +open to attack on many accounts, still I will accept what they +grant; for it is enough for me, though not enough for them: +for they admit that it is possible for men to act rightly at +times, without any expectation of, or desire to acquire +pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +You also affirmed that some people say that wise men make +a kind of treaty among themselves, that they shall have the +same feelings towards their friends that they entertain for themselves, +and that that is possible, and is often the case, and that +it has especial reference to the enjoyment of pleasures. If they +could make this treaty, they at the same time make that +other to love equity, moderation, and all the virtues for their +own sake, without any consideration of advantage. But if we +cultivate friendships for the sake of their profits, emoluments, +and advantages which may be derived from them, if there is +to be no affection which may make the friendship desirable +for its own sake, on its own account, by its own influences, by +itself and for itself, is there any doubt at all that in such a +case we must prefer our farms and estates to our friends? +And here you may again quote those panegyrics which have +been uttered in most eloquent language by Epicurus himself, +on the subject of friendship. I am not asking what he says, +but what he can possibly say which shall be consistent with +his own system and sentiments. +</p> + +<pb n='163'/><anchor id='Pg163'/> + +<p> +Friendship has been sought for the sake of advantage; +do you, then, think that my friend Triarius, here, will be more +useful to you than your granaries at Puteol? Think of all +the circumstances which you are in the habit of recollecting; +the protection which friends are to a man. You have sufficient +protection in yourself, sufficient in the laws, sufficient +also in moderate friendships. As it is, you cannot be looked +upon with contempt; but you will easily avoid odium and +unpopularity, for precepts on that subject are given by +Epicurus. And yet you, by employing such large revenues +in purposes of liberality, even without any Pyladean friendship, +will admirably defend and protect yourself by the goodwill of +numbers. But with whom, then, is a man to share his jests, +his serious thoughts, as people say, and all his secrets and +hidden wishes? With you, above all men; but if that cannot +be, why with some tolerably intimate friend. However, grant +that all these circumstances are not unreasonable; what comparison +can there be between them and the utility of such +large sums of money? You see, then, if you measure friendship +by the affection which it engenders, that nothing is more +excellent; if by the advantage that is derived from it, then +you see that the closest intimacies are surpassed by the value +of a productive farm. You must therefore love me, myself, +and not my circumstances, if we are to be real friends. +</p> + +<p> +XXVII. But we are getting too prolix in the most self-evident +matters; for, as it has been concluded and established +that there is no room anywhere for either virtues or friendships +if everything is referred to pleasure, there is nothing +more which it is of any great importance should be said. +And yet, that I may not appear to have passed over any topic +without a reply, I will, even now, say a few words on the +remainder of your argument. +</p> + +<p> +Since, then, the whole sum of philosophy is directed to +ensure living happily, and since men, from a desire of this one +thing, have devoted themselves to this study; but different +people make happiness of life to consist in different circumstances; +you, for instance, place it in pleasure; and, in the +same manner you, on the other hand, make all unhappiness +to consist in pain: let us consider, in the first place, what +sort of thing this happy life of yours is. But you will grant +this, I think, that if there is really any such thing as happiness, +<pb n='164'/><anchor id='Pg164'/> +it ought to be wholly in the power of a wise man to secure it; +for, if a happy life can be lost, it cannot be happy. For who +can feel confident that a thing will always remain firm and enduring +in his case, which is in reality fleeting and perishable? +But the man who distrusts the permanence of his good things, +must necessarily fear that some day or other, when he has lost +them, he will become miserable; and no man can be happy +who is in fear about most important matters. No one, then, +can be happy; for a happy life is usually called so, not in +some part only, but in perpetuity of time; and, in fact, life +is not said to be happy at all till it is completed and finished. +Nor is it possible for any man to be sometimes happy and +sometimes miserable; for he who thinks it possible that he +may become miserable, is certainly not happy. For, when a +happy life is once attained, it remains as long as the maker of +the happy life herself, namely, wisdom; nor does it wait till +the last period of a man's existence, as Herodotus says that +Crœsus was warned by Solon. +</p> + +<p> +But, as you yourself were saying, Epicurus denies that +length of time has any influence on making life happy, and +that no less pleasure can be felt in a short time than would +be the case if the pleasure were everlasting. Now these +statements are most inconsistent. For, when he places the +chief good in pleasure, he denies that pleasure can be greater +in infinite time, than it can in a finite and moderate period. +The man who places all good in virtue, has it in his power to +say that a happy life is made so by the perfection of virtue; +for he consistently denies that time can bring any increase to +his chief good. But he who thinks that life is made happy +by pleasure, must surely be inconsistent with himself if he +denies that pleasure is increased by length of time: if so, then +pain is not either. Shall we, then, say that all pain is most +miserable in proportion as it is most lasting, and yet that +duration does not make pleasure more desirable? Why, then, +is it that Epicurus always speaks of God as happy and eternal? +For, if you only take away his eternity, Jupiter is in no +respect more happy than Epicurus; for each of them is in +the enjoyment of the chief good, namely, pleasure. Oh, but +Epicurus is also liable to pain. That does not affect him at +all; for he says that if he were being burnt, he would say, +<q>How pleasant it is.</q> In what respect, then, is he surpassed +<pb n='165'/><anchor id='Pg165'/> +by the God, if he is not surpassed by him because of his +eternity? For what good has the God, except the highest +degree of pleasure, and that, too, everlasting! What, then, +is the good of speaking so pompously, if one does not speak +consistently? Happiness of life is placed in pleasure of body, +(I will add of mind also, if you please, as long as that pleasure +of the mind is derived from the pleasure of the body.) +What? who can secure this pleasure to a wise man in perpetuity? +For the circumstances by which pleasures are generated +are not in the power of a wise man; for happiness +does not consist in wisdom itself, but in those things which +wisdom provides for the production of pleasure. And all +these circumstances are external; and what is external is liable +to accident. And thus fortune is made the mistress of happiness +in life,—Fortune, which, Epicurus says, has but little +to do with a wise man. +</p> + +<p> +XXVIII. But you will say, Come, these things are trifles. +Nature by herself enriches the wise man; and, indeed, +Epicurus has taught us that the riches of nature are such as +can be acquired. This is well said, and I do not object to it; +but still these same assertions are inconsistent with one +another. For Epicurus denies there is less pleasure derived +from the poorest food, from the most despised kinds of meat +and drink, than from feasting on the most delicious dishes. +Now if he were to assert that it makes no difference as to the +happiness of life what food a man ate, I would grant it, I +would even praise him for saying so; for he would be speaking +the truth; and I know that Socrates, who ranked pleasure as +nothing at all, said the same thing, namely, that hunger was +the best seasoning for meat, and thirst for drink. But I do +not comprehend how a man who refers everything to pleasure, +lives like Gallonius, and yet talks like that great man Frugi +Piso; nor, indeed, do I believe that what he says is his real +opinion. He has said that natural riches can be acquired, +because nature is contented with a little. Certainly, unless +you estimate pleasure at a great value. No less pleasure, +says he, is derived from the most ordinary things than from +the most valuable. Now to say this, is not only not to have +a heart, but not to have even a palate. For they who despise +pleasure itself, may be allowed to say that they do not prefer +a sturgeon to a herring. But the man who places his chief +<pb n='166'/><anchor id='Pg166'/> +good in pleasure, must judge of everything by his sensations, +not by his reason, and must pronounce those things best +which are most pleasant. +</p> + +<p> +However, be it so. Let him acquire the greatest possible +pleasures, not only at a cheap rate, but, as far as I am concerned, +for nothing at all, if he can manage it. Let there be +no less pleasure in eating a nasturtium, which Xenophon tells +us the Persians used to eat, than in those Syracusan banquets +which are so severely blamed by Plato. Let, I say, the +acquisition of pleasure be as easy as you say it is. What +shall we say of pain? the torments of which are so great that, +if at least pain is the greatest of evils, a happy life cannot +possibly exist in company with it. For Metrodorus himself, +who is almost a second Epicurus, describes a happy man in +these words. When his body is in good order, and when he +is quite certain that it it will be so for the future. Is it possible +for any one to be certain in what condition his body will +be, I do not say a year hence, but even this evening? Pain, +therefore, which is the greatest of evils, will always be dreaded +even if it is not present. For it will always be possible that +it may be present. But how can any fear of the greatest +possible evil exist in a happy life? +</p> + +<p> +Oh, says he, Epicurus has handed down maxims according +to which we may disregard pain. Surely, it is an absurdity +to suppose that the greatest possible evil can be disregarded. +However, what is the maxim? The greatest pain, +says he, is short-lived. Now, first of all, what do you call +short-lived? And, secondly, what do you call the greatest +pain? For what do you mean? Cannot extreme pain last +for many days? Aye, and for many months? Unless, indeed, +you intend to assert that you mean such pain as kills a man +the moment it seizes on him. Who is afraid of that pain? +I would rather you would lessen that pain by which I +have seen that most excellent and kind-hearted man, Cnæus +Octavius, the son of Marcus Octavius, my own intimate friend, +worn out, and that not once, or for a short time, but very +often, and for a long period at once. What agonies, O ye +immortal gods, did that man use to bear, when all his limbs +seemed as if they were on fire. And yet he did not appear +to be miserable, (because in truth pain was not the greatest +of evils,) but only afflicted. But if he had been immersed in +<pb n='167'/><anchor id='Pg167'/> +continued pleasure, passing at the same time a vicious and +infamous life, then he would have been miserable. +</p> + +<p> +XXIX. But when you say that great pains last but a short +time, and that if they last long they are always light, I do +not understand the meaning of your assertion. For I see +that some pains are very great, and also very durable. And +there is a better principle which may enable one to endure +them, which however you cannot adopt, who do not love what +is honourable for its own sake. There are some precepts for, +and I may almost say laws of, fortitude, which forbid a man +to behave effeminately in pain. Wherefore it should be +accounted disgraceful, I do not say to grieve, (for that is at +times unavoidable,) but to make those rocks of Lemnos +melancholy with such outcries as those of Philoctetes— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Who utters many a tearful note aloud,</l> +<l>With ceaseless groaning, howling, and complaint.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Now let Epicurus, if he can, put himself in the place of that +man— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Whose veins and entrails thus are racked with pain</l> +<l>And horrid agony, while the serpent's bite</l> +<l>Spreads its black venom through his shuddering frame.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Let Epicurus become Philoctetes. If his pain is sharp it is +short. But in fact he has been lying in his cave for ten +years. If it lasts long it is light, for it grants him intervals +of relaxation. In the first place it does not do so often; and +in the second place what sort of relaxation is it when the +memory of past agony is still fresh, and the fear of further +agony coming and impending is constantly tormenting him. +Let him die, says he. Perhaps that would be the best thing +for him; but then what becomes of the argument, that the +wise man has always more pleasure than pain? For if that +be the case I would have you think whether you are not recommending +him a crime, when you advise him to die. Say +to him rather, that it is a disgraceful thing for a man to allow +his spirit to be crushed and broken by pain, that it is shameful +to yield to it. For as for your maxim, if it is violent it +is short, if it lasts long it is slight, that is mere empty verbiage. +The only real way to mitigate pain is by the application of +virtue, of magnanimity, of patience, of courage. +</p> + +<p> +XXX. Listen, that I may not make too wide a digression, +to the words of Epicurus when dying; and take notice how +<pb n='168'/><anchor id='Pg168'/> +inconsistent his conduct is with his language. <q>Epicurus to +Hermarchus greeting. I write this letter,</q> says he, <q>while +passing a happy day, which is also the last day of my life. +And the pains of my bladder and bowels are so intense that +nothing can be added to them which can make them greater.</q> +Here is a man miserable, if pain is the greatest possible evil. +It cannot possibly be denied. However, let us see how he +proceeds. <q>But still I have to balance this a joy in my mind, +which I derive from the recollection of my philosophical principles +and discoveries. But do you, as becomes the goodwill +which from your youth upwards you have constantly discovered +for me and for philosophy, protect the children of +Metrodorus.</q> After reading this, I do not consider the death +of Epaminondas or Leonidas preferable to his. One of whom +defeated the Lacedæmonians at Mantinea,<note place='foot'><hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> +363.</note> and finding that he +had been rendered insensible by a mortal wound, when he +first came to himself, asked whether his shield was safe? +When his weeping friends had answered him that it was, he +then asked whether the enemy was defeated? And when he +received to this question also the answer which he wished, +he then ordered the spear which was sticking in him to be +pulled out. And so, losing quantities of blood, he died in the +hour of joy and victory. +</p> + +<p> +But Leonidas, the king of the Lacedæmonians, put himself +and those three hundred men, whom he had led from Sparta, +in the way of the enemy of Thermopylæ,<note place='foot'><hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> +480.</note> when the alternative +was a base flight, or a glorious death. The deaths of +generals are glorious, but philosophers usually die in their +beds. But still Epicurus here mentions what, when dying, +he considered great credit to himself. <q>I have,</q> says he, <q>a +joy to counterbalance these pains.</q> I recognise in these +words, O Epicurus, the sentiments of a philosopher, but still +you forgot what you ought to have said. For, in the first +place, if those things be true, in the recollection of which you +say you rejoice, that is to say, if your writings and discoveries +are true, then you cannot rejoice. For you have no pleasure +here which you can refer to the body. But you have constantly +asserted that no one ever feels joy or pain except with +reference to his body. <q>I rejoice,</q> says he, <q>in the past.</q> In +what that is past? If you mean such past things as refer to +<pb n='169'/><anchor id='Pg169'/> +the body, then I see that you are counterbalancing your +agonies with your reason, and not with your recollection of +pleasures which you have felt in the body. But if you are +referring to your mind, then your denial of there being any +joy of the mind which cannot be referred to some pleasure of +the body, must be false. Why, then, do you recommend the +children of Metrodorus to Hermarchus? In that admirable +exercise of duty, in that excellent display of your good faith, +for that is how I look upon it, what is there that you refer to +the body? +</p> + +<p> +XXXI. You may twist yourself about in every direction +as you please, Torquatus, but you will not find in this excellent +letter anything written by Epicurus which is in harmony +and consistent with the rules he laid down. And so he is +convicted by himself, and his writings are upset by his own +virtue and goodness. For that recommendation of those +children, that recollection of them, and affectionate friendship +for them, that attention to the most important duties at the +last gasp, indicates that honesty without any thought of personal +advantage was innate in the man; that it did not +require the invitation of pleasure, or the allurements of mercenary +rewards. For what greater evidence can we require +that those things which are honourable and right are desirable +of themselves for their own sake, than the sight of a dying +man so anxious in the discharge of such important duties? +But, as I think that letter deserving of all commendation of +which I have just given you a literal translation, (although it +was in no respect consistent with the general system of that +philosopher,) so also I think that his will is inconsistent not +only with the dignity of a philosopher, but even with his own +sentiments. For he wrote often, and at great length, and +sometimes with brevity and suitable language, in that book +which I have just named, that death had nothing to do with +us; for that whatever was dissolved was void of sensation, +and whatever was void of sensation had nothing whatever to +do with us. Even this might have been expressed better and +more elegantly. For when he lays down the position that +what has been dissolved is void of sensation, that is such an +expression that it is not very plain what he means by the +word dissolved. However, I understand what he really does +mean. But still I ask why, when every sensation is extinguished +<pb n='170'/><anchor id='Pg170'/> +by dissolution, that is to say, by death, and when +there is nothing else whatever that has any connexion with +us, he should still take such minute and diligent care to +enjoin Amynomachus and Timocrates, his heirs, to furnish +every year what in the opinion of Hermarchus shall be +enough to keep his birthday in the month Gamelion, with +all proper solemnity. And also, shall every month, on the +twentieth day of the month, supply money enough to furnish +a banquet for those men who have studied philosophy with +him, in order that his memory, and that of Metrodorus, may +be duly honoured. Now I cannot deny that these injunctions +are in keeping with the character of a thoroughly accomplished +and amiable man; but still I utterly deny that it is +inconsistent with the wisdom of a philosopher, especially of +a natural philosopher, which is the character he claims for +himself, to think that there is such a day as the birthday of +any one. What? Can any day which has once passed recur +over again frequently. Most indubitably not; or can any day +like it recur? Even that is impossible, unless it may happen +after an interval of many thousand years, that there may be a +return of all the stars at the same moment to the point from +which they set out. There is, therefore, no such thing as +anybody's birthday. But still it is considered that there is. +As if I did not know that. But even if there be, is it to be +regarded after a man's death? And is a man to give injunctions +in his will that it shall be so, after he has told you all, +as if with the voice of an oracle, that there is nothing which +concerns us at all after death? These things are very inconsistent +in a man who, in his mind, had travelled over innumerable +worlds and boundless regions, which were destitute of +all limits and boundaries. Did Democritus ever say such a +thing as this? I will pass over every one else, and call him +only as a witness whom Epicurus himself followed to the +exclusion of others. +</p> + +<p> +But if a day did deserve to be kept, which was it more +fitting to observe, the day on which a man was born, or that +on which he became wise? A man, you will say, could not +have become wise unless he had been born. And, on the +same principle, he could not if his grandmother had never +been born. The whole business, Torquatus, is quite out of +character for a learned man to wish to have the recollection +<pb n='171'/><anchor id='Pg171'/> +of his name celebrated with banquets after his death. I say +nothing of the way in which you keep these days, and to how +many jokes from witty men you expose yourselves. There is +no need of quarrelling. I only say that it would have been +more becoming in you to keep Epicurus's birthday, than in +him to leave injunctions in his will that it should be kept. +</p> + +<p> +XXXII. However, to return to our subject, (for while we +were talking of pain we digressed to that letter of his,) we +may now fairly come to this conclusion. The man who is +in the greatest evil, while he is in it, is not happy. But the +wise man is always happy, and is also occasionally in pain. +Therefore, pain is not the greatest evil. What kind of doctrine, +then, is this, that goods which are past are not lost to a wise +man, but that he ought not to remember past evils. First of +all, is it in our power to decide what we will remember. When +Simonides, or some one else, offered to Themistocles to teach +him the art of memory, <q>I would rather,</q> said he, <q>that you +would teach me that of forgetfulness; for I even now recollect +what I would rather not; but I cannot forget what I +should like to.</q> This was a very sensible answer. But still +the fact is that it is the act of a very arbitrary philosopher to +forbid a man to recollect. It seems to me a command very +much in the spirit of your ancestor, Manlius, or even worse, +to command what it is impossible for me to do. What will +you say if the recollection of past evils is even pleasant? For +some proverbs are more true than your dogmas. Nor does +Euripides speak all when he says, I will give it you in Latin, +if I can, but you all know the Greek line— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Sweet is the memory of sorrows past.<note place='foot'><p>The Greek +line occurs in the Orestes, 207. +</p> +<p> +Ὡ πότνια λήθη τῶν κακῶν ὡς εἶ γλυκύ. +</p> +<p> +Virgil has the same idea— +</p> +<p> +Vos et Scyllæam rabiem, penitusque sonantes<lb/> +Accêtis scopulos, vos et Cyclopia saxa<lb/> +Experti; revocate animos, moestumque timorem<lb/> +Pellite: forsan et haec olim meminisse juvabit.—Æn. i. 200. +</p> +<p> +Which Dryden translates— +</p> +<p> +With me the rocks of Scylla have you tried,<lb/> +Th' inhuman Cyclops and his den defied:<lb/> +What greater ills hereafter can you bear?<lb/> +Resume your courage and dismiss your care;<lb/> +An hour will come with pleasure to relate<lb/> +Your sorrows past as benefits of fate.</p></note> +</quote> + +<pb n='172'/><anchor id='Pg172'/> + +<p> +However, let us return to the consideration of past goods. +And if you were to utter such maxims as might be capable of +consoling Caius Marius, and enabling him when banished, +indigent, and up to his neck in a marsh, to relieve his anguish +by the recollection of his past trophies, I would listen to you, +and approve of all you could say. Nor, indeed, can the happiness +of a philosopher be complete or continue to the end, +if all the admirable discoveries which he has made, and all +his virtuous actions, are to be lost by his own forgetfulness. +But, in your case, you assert that the recollection of pleasures +which have been felt makes life happy, and of such pleasures +too, as affect the body. For if there are any other pleasures, +then it is incorrect to say that all the pleasures of the mind +originate in its connexion with the body. +</p> + +<p> +But if pleasures felt by the body, even when they are past, +can give pleasure, then I do not understand why Aristotle +should turn the inscription on the tomb of Sardanapalus into +so much ridicule; in which the king of Assyria boasts that he +has taken with him all his lascivious pleasures. For, says +Aristotle, how could those things which even while he was +alive he could not feel a moment longer than while he was +actually enjoying them, possibly remain to him after he was +dead? The pleasure, then, of the body is lost, and flies away +at the first moment, and oftener leaves behind reasons for +repenting of it than for recollecting it. Therefore, Africanus +is happier when addressing his country in this manner— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Cease, Rome, to dread your foes.... +</quote> + +<p> +And in the rest of his admirable boast— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +For you have trophies by my labour raised. +</quote> + +<p> +He is rejoicing here in his labours which are past. But you +would bid him exult in past pleasures. He traces back his feelings +to things which had never had any reference to his body. +You cling to the body to the exclusion of everything else. +</p> + +<p> +XXXIII. But how can that proposition possibly be maintained +which you urge, namely, that all the pleasures and +pains of the mind are connected inseparably with the pleasures +and pains of the body? Is there, then, nothing which ever +delights you, (I know whom I am addressing,) is there +nothing, O Torquatus, which ever delights you for its own +sake? I say nothing about dignity, honourableness, the +beauty of virtue, which I have mentioned before. I will put +<pb n='173'/><anchor id='Pg173'/> +all these things aside as of less consequence. But is there +anything when you are writing, or reading a poem, or an +oration, when you are investigating the history of exploits or +countries, or anything in a statue, or picture, or pleasant +place; in sports, in hunting, or in a villa of Lucullus, (for if +I were to say of your own, you would have a loophole to +escape through, saying that that had connexion with your +body,) is there any of all these things, I say, which you can +refer to your body, or do they not please you, if they please +you at all, for their own sake? +</p> + +<p> +You must either be the most obstinate of men, if you +persist in referring these things, which I have just mentioned, +to the body, or else you must abandon Epicurus's whole +theory of pleasure, if you admit that they have no connexion +with it. +</p> + +<p> +But as for your argument, that the pleasures and pains of +the mind are greater than those of the body, because the +mind is a partaker of three times,<note place='foot'>That is, +of the past, the present, and the future.</note> but nothing but what is +present is felt by the body; how can it possibly be allowed +that a man who rejoices for my sake rejoices more than I do +myself? The pleasure of the mind originates in the pleasure +of the body, and the pleasure of the mind is greater than +that of the body. The result, then, is, that the party who +congratulates the other is more rejoiced than he whom +he congratulates. But while you are trying to make out +the wise man to be happy, because he is sensible of the +greatest pleasures in his mind, and, indeed, of pleasures which +are in all their parts greater than those which he is sensible +of in his body, you do not see what really happens. For he +will also feel the pains of the mind to be in every respect +greater than those of the body. And so he must occasionally +be miserable, whom you endeavour to represent as being +always happy. Nor, indeed, will it be possible for you ever +to fill up the idea of perfect and uninterrupted happiness +while you refer everything to pleasure and pain. +</p> + +<p> +On which account, O Torquatus, we must find out something +else which is the chief good of man. Let us grant +pleasure to the beasts, to whom you often appeal as witnesses +on the subject of the chief good. What will you say, if even +the beasts do many things under the guidance of their various +<pb n='174'/><anchor id='Pg174'/> +natures, partly out of indulgence to other beasts, and at the +cost of their own labour, as, for instance, it is very visible in +bringing forth and rearing their young, that they have some +other object in view besides their own pleasure? and partly, +too, when they rejoice in running about and travelling; and +some assemble in herds, in such a manner as to imitate in +some degree a human state. In some species of birds we see +certain indications of affection, knowledge, and memory; in +many we see what even looks like a regular system of action. +Shall there, then, be in beasts some images of human virtues, +quite unconnected with pleasure, and shall there be no virtue +in man except for the sake of pleasure? and though he is as +superior as can be to all the other animals, shall we still +affirm that he has no peculiar attributes given to him by +nature? +</p> + +<p> +XXXIV. But we, if indeed all things depend on pleasure, +are greatly surpassed by beasts, for which the earth, of her +own accord, produces various sorts of food, in every kind of +abundance, without their taking any trouble about it; while +the same necessaries are scarcely (sometimes I may even use +stronger language still) supplied to us, when we seek them +with great labour. Nor is it possible that I should ever think +that the chief good was the same in the case of a beast and a +man. For what can be the use of having so many means +and appliances for the carrying out of the most excellent arts,—what +can be the use of such an assemblage of most honourable +pursuits, of such a crowd of virtues, if they are all got +together for no other end but pleasure? As if, when Xerxes, +with such vast fleets, such countless troops of both cavalry +and infantry, had bridged over the Hellespont and dug +through Mount Athos, had walked across the sea, and sailed<note place='foot'><p>This +seems to refer to the Greek epigram— +</p> +<p> +Τὸν γαίης καὶ πόντου ἀμειφθείσαισι κελεύθοις,<lb/> +Ναύτην ἠπείρου, πεζόπορον πελάγους.<lb/> +Ἐν τρίσσαις δοράτων ἑκατοντάσιν ἔστεγεν Ἄρης<lb/> +Σπάρτης αἰσχυνεσθ᾽ οὔρεα καὶ πελάγη. +</p> +<p> +Which may be translated— +</p> +<p> +Him who the paths of land and sea disturb'd,<lb/> +Sail'd o'er the earth, walk'd o'er the humbled waves,<lb/> +Three hundred spears of dauntless Sparta curb'd.<lb/> +Shame on you, land and sea, ye willing slaves! +</p></note> over the land, if, when he had invaded Greece with such +<pb n='175'/><anchor id='Pg175'/> +irresistible violence, any one had asked him for the cause of +collecting so vast an army, and waging so formidable a war, +and he had replied that he wished to get some honey from +Hymettus, certainly he would have been thought to have +undertaken such an enterprise for an insufficient cause. And +in like manner, if we were to say that a wise man, furnished +and provided with numerous and important virtues and +accomplishments, not, indeed, travelling like him over sea on +foot, and over mountains with his fleet, but embracing the +whole heaven, all the earth, and the universal sea with his +mind, had nothing in view but pleasure, we might say that he, +too, was taking a great deal of trouble for a little honey. +</p> + +<p> +Believe me, Torquatus, we were born for more lofty and +noble ends; and you may see this, not only by considering +the parts of the mind, in which there is the recollection of a +countless number of things, (and from thence proceed infinite +conjectures as to the consequences of them, not very far +differing from divination; there is also in them shame, which +is the regulator of desire, and the faithful guardianship of +justice, so necessary to human society, and a firm enduring +contempt for pain and death, shown in the enduring of +labours and the encountering of dangers.) All these things, +I say, are in the mind. But I would have you consider also +the limbs and the senses, which, like the other parts of the +body, will appear to you to be not only the companions of the +virtues, but also their slaves. What will you say, if many +things in the body itself appear to deserve to be preferred to +pleasure? such as strength, health, activity, beauty? And if +this is the case, how many qualities of the mind will likewise +seem so? For in the mind, the old philosophers—those most +learned men—thought that there was something heavenly and +divine. But if the chief good consisted in pleasure, as you +say, then it would be natural that we should wish to live +day and night in the midst of pleasure, without any interval +or interruption, while all our senses were, as it were, steeped +in and influenced wholly by pleasure. But who is there, who +is worthy of the name of a man, who would like to spend +even the whole of one day in that kind of pleasure? The +Cyrenaic philosophers, indeed, would not object. Your sect is +more modest in this respect, though their's is perhaps the +more sincere. +</p> + +<pb n='176'/><anchor id='Pg176'/> + +<p> +However, let us contemplate with our minds, not, indeed, +these most important arts, which are so valuable, that those +who were ignorant of them were accounted useless by our +ancestors; but I ask you whether you think that (I will not +say Homer, or Archilochus, or Pindar, but) Phidias, or Polycletus, +or Zeuxis directed the whole of their skill to cause +more pleasure. Shall, then, an artist propose to himself a +higher aim, with reference to the beauty of figures, than +a virtuous citizen with reference to the nobleness of action? +But what other cause can there be for such a blunder being +so widely and extensively diffused, except that he who determines +that pleasure is the chief good, deliberates not with +that part of his mind in which reason and wisdom dwell, but +with his desires, that is to say, with the most trifling portion +of his mind. For I put the question to you yourself, if there +are gods, as you think that there are, how have they the +power of being happy, when they are not able to feel any +pleasure in their bodies? or if they are happy, though +destitute of that kind of pleasure, why do you refuse to +recognize the possibility of a similar exertion of intellect on +the part of a wise man? +</p> + +<p> +XXXV. Read, O Torquatus, the panegyrics, not of those +men who have been praised by Homer, not the encomiums +passed on Cyrus, or Agesilaus, or Aristides, or Themistocles, or +Philip, or Alexander; but read the praises of our own fellow-countrymen, +of the heroes of your own family. You will not +find any one praised on the ground of having been a cunning +contriver, or procurer, of pleasure. The eulogies on their +monuments signify no such thing; like this one which is at +one of our gates, <q>In whose favour many nations unanimously +agree that he was the noblest man of the nation.</q> +Do we think that many nations judged of Calatinus, that he +was the noblest man of the nation, because he was the most +skilful in the devising of pleasures? Shall we, then, say that +there is great hope and an excellent disposition in those young +men whom we think likely to consult their own advantage, and +to see what will be profitable to themselves? Do we not see +what a great confusion of everything would ensue? what +great disorder? Such a doctrine puts an end to all beneficence, +to all gratitude, which are the great bonds of agreement. +For if you do good to any one for your own sake, +<pb n='177'/><anchor id='Pg177'/> +that is not to be considered a kindness, but only usury; nor +does any gratitude appear due to the man who has benefited +another for his own sake. +</p> + +<p> +But if pleasure is the dominant power, it is inevitable that +all the virtues must be trampled under foot. For there are +many kinds of base conduct, which, unless honourableness is +naturally to have the most influence, must, or at least it is +not easy to explain why they should not, overcome a wise +man; and, not to go hunting for too many instances, it is +quite clear, that virtue deservedly praised, must cut off all +the approaches of pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +Do not, now, expect any more arguments from me. Look, +Torquatus, yourself, into your own mind; turn the question +over in all your thoughts; examine yourself, whether you +would prefer to pass your life in the enjoyment of perpetual +pleasure, in that tranquillity which you have often felt, free +from all pain, with the addition also of that blessing which +you often speak of as an addition, but which is, in fact, an +impossible one, the absence of all fear; or, while deserving +well of all nations, and bearing assistance and safety to all +who are in need of it, to encounter even the distresses of +Hercules. For so our ancestors, even in the case of a god, +called labours which were unavoidable by the most melancholy +name, distresses.<note place='foot'><p>The Latin is +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>ærumnæ</foreign>: perhaps it is in allusion to this +passage that Juvenal says— +</p> +<p> +Et potiores<lb/> +Herculis <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>ærumnas</foreign> credat, sævosque labores<lb/> +Et Venere et cœnis, et pluma Sardanapali.<lb/> +<lb/> +Sat. x. 361. +</p></note> I would require you, and compel +you to answer me, if I were not afraid that you might say +that Hercules himself performed those exploits, which he +performed with the greatest labour for the safety of nations, +for the sake of pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +And when I had said this,—I know, said Torquatus, who it +is that I have to thank for this; and although I might be +able to do something myself, yet I am still more glad to find +my friends better prepared than I am. +</p> + +<p> +I suppose you mean Syro and Philodemus, excellent citizens +and most learned men. You are right, said he. Come, +then, said I. But it would be more fair for Triarius to give +<pb n='178'/><anchor id='Pg178'/> +some opinion on this discussion of ours. Indeed, said he +smiling, it would be very unfair, at least on this subject: +for you manage the question more gently; but this man +attacks us after the fashion of the Stoics. Then Triarius +said, Hereafter I will speak more boldly still: for I shall +have all these arguments which I have just heard ready to +my hand; and I will not begin before I see you equipped by +those philosophers whom you mention. +</p> + +<p> +And when this had been said, we made an end both of our +walk and of our discussion. +</p> + +</div> + +<div> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>Third Book Of The Treatise On The Chief +Good And Evil.</head> + +<p> +I. I think, Brutus, that Pleasure, if she were to speak for +herself, and had not such pertinacious advocates, would yield +to Virtue, as having been vanquished in the preceding book. +In truth, she would be destitute of shame if she were to +resist Virtue any longer, or persist in preferring what is +pleasant to what is honourable, or were to contend that a +tickling pleasure, as it were, of the body, and the joy arising +out of it, is of more importance than dignity of mind and +consistency. So that we may dismiss Pleasure, and desire +her to confine herself within her own boundaries, so that the +strictness of our discussions may not be hindered by her +allurements and blandishments. For we have now to inquire +what that chief good is which we are anxious to discover; +since pleasure is quite unconnected with it, and since nearly +the same arguments can be urged against those who have +considered freedom from pain as the greatest of goods. +</p> + +<p> +Nor, indeed, can anything be admitted to be the chief +good which is destitute of virtue, to which nothing can be +superior. Therefore, although in that discourse which was +held with Torquatus we were not remiss, still we have now a +much sharper contest before us with the Stoics. For the +statements which are made about pleasure are not expressed +with any great acuteness or refinement. For they who +defend it are not skilful in arguing, nor have those who take +the opposite side a very difficult cause to oppose. Even +<pb n='179'/><anchor id='Pg179'/> +Epicurus himself says, that one ought not even to argue +about pleasure, because the decision respecting it depends on +the sensations, so that it is sufficient for us to be warned +respecting it, and quite unnecessary for us to be instructed. +And on this account, that previous discussion of ours was a +simple one on both sides; for there was nothing involved or +intricate in the discourse of Torquatus, and my own language, +as it seems to me, was very clear. But you are not ignorant +what a subtle, or I might rather say, thorny kind of arguing +it is which is employed by the Stoics. And if it is so among +the Greeks, much more so is it among us, who are forced +even to invent words, and to give new names to new things. +And this is what no one who is even moderately learned will +wonder at, when he considers that in every art which is not +in common and ordinary use, there is a great variety of new +names, as appellations are forced to be given to everything +about which each art is conversant. Therefore, both dialecticians +and natural philosophers use those words which are +not common in the ordinary conversation of the Greeks; +and geometricians, musicians, and grammarians, all speak +after a peculiar fashion of their own. And even the rhetoricians, +whose art is a forensic one, and wholly directed to +the people, still in giving their lessons use words which are, +as it were, their peculiar private property. +</p> + +<p> +II. And, without dwelling on the case of these liberal and +gentlemanly professions, even artisans would not be capable +of exercising their trades properly if they did not use technical +words, which are not understood by us, though in common +use among them. Agriculture, also, which is as distant +as can be from all polite refinement, still marks those matters +with which it is conversant by new names. And much more +is this course allowable in a philosopher; for philosophy is +the art of life, and a man who is discussing that cannot borrow +his language from the forum,—although there is no +school of philosophers which has made so many innovations +as the Stoics. Zeno too, their chief, was not so much a discoverer +of new things as of new words. But if, even in that +language which most people consider richer than our own, +Greece has permitted the most learned men to use words +not in ordinary use about subjects which are equally unusual, +how much more ought the same licence to be granted to us, +<pb n='180'/><anchor id='Pg180'/> +who are now venturing to be the very first of our countrymen +to touch on such matters? And though we have often said,—and +that, too, in spite of some complaints not only of the +Greeks, but of those men also who would prefer being accounted +Greeks to being thought our own countrymen,—that +we are so far from being surpassed by the Greeks in the +richness and copiousness of our language, that we are even +superior to them in that particular; we must labour to +establish this point, not only in our own national arts, but +in those too which we have derived from them. Although, +since they have become established by habit, we may fairly +consider those words as our own which, in accordance with +ancient custom, we use as Latin words; such as +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>philosophia</foreign> itself, +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>rhetorica</foreign>, +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>dialectica</foreign>, +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>grammatica</foreign>, +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>geometria</foreign>, +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>musica</foreign>,—although +they could, no doubt, be translated into more +genuine Latin. +</p> + +<p> +Enough, however, of the names of things. But with respect +to the things themselves, I am often afraid, Brutus, +that I may be blamed when I am writing to you, who have +made so much progress, not only in philosophy, but in the +most excellent kind of philosophy. And if I wrote as if I +were giving you any instruction, I should deserve to be +blamed; but such conceit is far from me. Nor do I send +letters to you under the idea of making you acquainted with +what is thoroughly known to you before; but because I am +fond of supporting myself by your name, and because also I +consider you the most candid critic and judge of those studies +which both you and I apply ourselves to in common. I +know, therefore, that you will pay careful attention to what +I write, as is your wont, and that you will decide on the dispute +which took place between your uncle—a most heavenly-minded +and admirable man—and myself. +</p> + +<p> +For when I was at my villa near Tusculum, and was +desirous to make use of some books in the library of the +young Lucullus, I went one day to his house, in order to +take away (as I was in the habit of doing) the books which I +wanted. And when I had arrived there, I found Marcus +Cato, whom I did not know to be there, sitting in the library, +surrounded by a number of the books of the Stoics. For he +had, as you know, a boundless desire for reading, one which +was quite insatiable,—so much so, indeed, that he was not +<pb n='181'/><anchor id='Pg181'/> +afraid of the causeless reproaches of the common people, but +was accustomed to continue reading even in the senate-house +itself, while the senate was assembling, without, however, at +all relaxing in his attention to the affairs of the republic. +And now, being in the enjoyment of complete leisure, and +being surrounded by a great abundance of such treasures, he +appeared to be completely gorging himself with books, if I +may use such an expression about so respectable a subject. +And as it so happened that neither of us expected to see the +other, he at once rose up on my entrance; and, after the first +salutations which are usual at such a meeting, What object +has brought you here? said he; for I presume you are +come from your own villa, and if I had known that you had +been there, I should have come myself to see you. I only, +said I, left the city yesterday after the commencement of the +games, and got home in the evening. But my object in +coming here was to take some books away with me; and it +will be a pity, Cato, if our friend Lucullus does not some day +or other become acquainted with all these treasures; for I +would rather have him take delight in these books than in +all the rest of the furniture of the villa. For he is a youth I +am very anxious about; although, indeed, it is more peculiarly +your business to take care that he shall be so educated +as to do credit to his father, and to our friend Cæpio, and to +you who are such a near relation of his.<note place='foot'>The +great Lucullus, father of this young Lucullus, was married +to Servilia, half-sister to Cato, and daughter of Quintus Servilius Cæpio, +who was killed in the Social war, having been decoyed into an ambush +by Pompædius, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 90. The young Lucullus was afterwards +killed in the battle of Philippi.</note> But I myself have +some right to feel an interest in him; for I am influenced by +my recollection of his grandfather,—and you well know what +a regard I had for Cæpio, who, in my opinion, would now be +one of the first men of the city if he were alive; and I also +have Lucullus himself always before my eyes,—a man not +only excelling in every virtue, but connected with me both by +friendship and a general resemblance of inclination and sentiment. +You do well, said he, to retain a recollection of +those persons, both of whom recommended their children to +your care by their wills, and you are right too to be attached +to this youth. And as for your calling it my peculiar +<pb n='182'/><anchor id='Pg182'/> +business, I will not decline the office, but I claim you for +my partner in the duty. I will say this also, that the boy +has already shown me many indications both of modesty and +of ability; but you see how young he is as yet. To be sure +I do, said I; but even now he ought to receive a tincture of +those accomplishments which, if he drinks of them now while +he is young, will hereafter make him more ready for more +important business. And so we will often talk over this +matter anxiously together, and we will act in concert. However, +let us sit down, says he, if you please. So we sat down. +</p> + +<p> +III. Then Cato said: But now, what books in the world +are they that you are looking for here, when you have such a +library at home? I want, said I, some of the Aristotelian +Commentaries, which I know are here; and I came to carry +them off, to read when I have leisure, which is not, as you +know, very often the case with me. How I wish, said he, +that you had an inclination towards our Stoic sect; for certainly +it is natural for you, if it ever was so for any one, to +think nothing a good except virtue. May I not, I replied, +rejoin that it would be natural for you, as your opinion in +reality is the same as mine, to forbear giving new names to +things? for our principles are the same,—it is only our language +that is at variance. Indeed, said he, our principles are +not the same at all; for I can never agree to your calling +anything desirable except what is honourable, and to your +reckoning such things among the goods,—and, by so doing, +extinguishing honourableness, which is, as it were, the light +of virtue, and utterly upsetting virtue herself. Those are all +very fine words, said I, O Cato; but do you not see that all +those pompous expressions are shared by you in common +with Pyrrho and Aristo, who think all things equal? And I +should like to know what your opinion of them is. Mine? +said he; do you want to know what I think of them? I think +that those men whom we have either heard of from our +ancestors, or seen ourselves, to be good, brave, just, and +moderate in the republic,—those who, following nature herself, +without any particular learning or system, have done +many praiseworthy actions, have been educated by nature +herself better than they could have been educated by philosophy, +if they had adopted any other philosophy except that +which ranks nothing whatever among the goods except what +<pb n='183'/><anchor id='Pg183'/> +is honourable, and nothing among the evils except what is +disgraceful. As for all other systems of philosophy, they differ +entirely in their estimate of good and evil; but still I consider +no one of them which classes anything destitute of virtue +among either the goods or the evils, as being of any use to +men, or as uttering any sentiment by which we may become +better; but I think that they all tend rather to deprave +nature herself. For if this point be not conceded, that that +alone is good which is honourable, it follows that it must be +impossible to prove that life is made happy by virtue. And +if that be the case, then I do not see why any attention should +be bestowed on philosophy; for if a wise man can be miserable, +then of a truth I do not consider that virtue, which is +accounted so glorious and memorable a thing, of any great +value. +</p> + +<p> +IV. All that you have been saying, Cato, I replied, you +might say if you agreed with Pyrrho or Aristo; for you are not +ignorant that they consider that honourableness not only the +chief good, but also (as you yourself maintain) the only good. +And if this is the case, the consequence which I see you aim +at follows necessarily, that all wise men are always happy. +Do you then praise these men, and do you think that we +ought to follow their opinion? By no means, said he; for as +this is a peculiar attribute of virtue to make its selection of +those things which are in accordance with nature, those who +have made all things equal in such a manner as to consider +all things on either side perfectly indifferent, so as to leave no +room for any selection, have utterly put an end to virtue. +You say right, said I; but I ask you whether you, too, must +not do the same thing, when you say that there is nothing +good which is not right and honourable, and so put an end +to all the difference between other things? That would be +the case, said he, if I did put an end to it; but I deny the +fact—I leave it. How so, said I? If virtue alone,—if that +thing alone which you call honourable, right, praiseworthy, +and creditable, (for it will be more easily seen what is the +character that you ascribe to it, if it be pointed out by many +words tending to the same point,)—if, I say, that is the sole +good, what else will there be for you to follow? And, on the +other hand, if nothing is evil except what is disgraceful, dishonourable, +unbecoming, wrong, flagitious, and base, (to make +<pb n='184'/><anchor id='Pg184'/> +this also manifest by giving it many names,) what else will +there be which you can say ought to be avoided? +</p> + +<p> +I will not, said he, reply to each point of your question, as +you are not, as I suspect, ignorant of what I am going to say, +but seeking rather to find something to carp at in my brief +answer: I will rather, since we have plenty of time, explain +to you, unless you think it foreign to the subject, the whole +opinion of Zeno and the Stoics on the matter. Very far +from foreign to the subject, said I; indeed, your explanations +will be of great service in elucidating to me the points about +which I am inquiring. Let us try, then, said he, although +this system of the Stoics has in it something rather difficult +and obscure; for, as formerly, when these matters were discussed +in the Greek language, the very names of things appeared +strange which have now become sanctioned by daily +use, what do you think will be the case when we are discussing +them in Latin? Still, said I, we must do so; for if +Zeno might take the liberty when he had discovered anything +not previously common, to fix on it a name that was likewise +unprecedented, why may not Cato take the same? Nor will +it be necessary for you to render what he has said word for +word, as translators are in the habit of doing who have no +command of language of their own, whenever there is a word +in more ordinary use which has the same meaning. I indeed +myself am in the habit, if I cannot manage it any other way, +of using many words to express what the Greeks have expressed +in one; and yet I think that we ought to be allowed +to use a Greek word on occasions when we cannot find a +Latin one, and to employ such terms as +<foreign lang='el' rend='italic'>proegmena</foreign> and +<foreign lang='el' rend='italic'>apoproegmena</foreign>, just as freely as we say +<foreign lang='el' rend='italic'>ephippia</foreign> and +<foreign lang='el' rend='italic'>acratophori</foreign>, +though it may be sufficient to translate these two particular +words by <emph>preferred</emph> and <emph>rejected</emph>. I am much obliged +to you, said he, for your hint; and I will in preference use +those Latin terms which you have just mentioned; and in +other cases, too, you shall come to my assistance if you see +me in difficulties. I will do so, said I, with great goodwill; +but fortune favours the bold. So make the attempt, I beg of +you; for what more divine occupation can we have? +</p> + +<p> +V. Those philosophers, said he, whose system I approve of, +consider that as soon as an animal is born, (for this is where +we must begin,) he is instinctively induced and excited to +<pb n='185'/><anchor id='Pg185'/> +preserve himself and his existing condition, and to feel attachment +to those things which have a tendency to preserve that +condition; and to feel an abhorrence of dissolution, and of +those circumstances which appear to be pregnant with dissolution. +And they prove that this is the case, because, before +either pleasure or pain has affected it, even while it is very +little, it seeks what is salutary, and shuns the contrary: and +this would not be the case if they were not fond of their condition, +and afraid of dissolution; and it would not be possible +for them to seek any particular thing if they had not some +sense of themselves, and if that did not influence them to love +themselves and what belongs to them. From which it ought +to be understood that it is from the animal itself that the +principle of self-love in it is derived. But among these natural +principles of self-love most of the Stoics do not admit that +pleasure ought to be classed; and I entirely agree with them, +to avoid the many discreditable things which must ensue if +nature should appear to have placed pleasure among those +things which are the first objects of desire. But it appears to +be proof enough why we naturally love those things which are +by nature placed in the first rank, that there is no one, who, +when either alternative is equally in his power, would not +prefer to have all the parts of his body in a suitable and +entire condition, rather than impaired by use, or in any particular +distorted or depraved. +</p> + +<p> +But as for the knowledge of things—or if you do not so +much approve of this word <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>cognitio</foreign>, +or find it less intelligible, +we will call it κατάληψις—that we think is naturally to be acquired +for its own sake, because it contains something which +has, as it were, embraced and seized upon truth. And this is +perceptible even in infants; whom we see amused if they have +succeeded in finding out anything themselves by reason, even +though it may be of no service whatever to them. And +moreover, we consider arts worth attending to on their own +account, both because there is in them something worth +acceptance, and also because they depend upon knowledge, +and contain in themselves something which proceeds on +system and method. But I think that we are more averse +to assent on false grounds than to anything else which is +contrary to nature. Now of the limbs, that is to say, of the +parts of the body, some appear to have been given to us +<pb n='186'/><anchor id='Pg186'/> +by nature because of the use which, they are of to us, as, for +instance, the hands, legs, and feet, and also those internal +organs of the body, of which I may leave it to the physicians +to explain the exceeding usefulness; but others with no view +to utility, but for ornament as it were, as the tail is given to +the peacock, plumage of many colours to the dove, breasts +and a beard to man. Perhaps you will say this is but a dry +enumeration; for these things are, as it were, the first elements +of nature, which cannot well have any richness of +language employed upon them; nor indeed am I thinking of +displaying any; but when one is speaking of more important +matters, then the subject itself hurries on the language: +and then one's discourse is at the same time more impressive +and more ornate. It is as you say, said I; but still everything +which is said in a lucid manner about a good subject appears +to me to be said well. And to wish to speak of subjects of +that kind in a florid style is childish; but to be able to +explain them with clearness and perspicuity, is a token of +a learned and intelligent man. +</p> + +<p> +VI. Let us then proceed, said he, since we have digressed +from these first principles of nature, which everything +which follows ought to be in harmony with. But this +is the first division of the subject. A thing is said to be +estimable: for so we may, I think, call that which is either +itself in accordance with nature, or else which is the efficient +cause of something of such a character that it is worthy +of being selected because it has in it some weight worth +appreciating, which he calls ἀχία; and, on the other hand, +something not estimable, which is the contrary of the preceding. +The first principles, therefore, being laid down, that +those things which are according to nature are to be chosen +for their own sakes, and those which are contrary to it are in +like manner to be rejected; the first duty (for that is how I +translate the word καθῆκον) is, for a man to preserve himself +in his natural condition; next to that, to maintain those +things which are in accordance with nature, and reject what +is opposite to it; and when this principle of selection and +rejection has been discovered, then follows selection in accordance +with duty; and then that third kind, which is +perpetual, and consistent to the end, and corresponding to +nature, in which there first begins to be a proper understanding +<pb n='187'/><anchor id='Pg187'/> +of what there is which can be truly called good. For the +first attraction of man is to those things which are according +to nature. But as soon as he has received that intelligence, or +perhaps I should say, notion, which they call ἔννοια, and has +seen the order and, if I may so say, the harmony in which +things are to be done, he then estimates it at a higher value +than all the things which he loved at first; and by this +knowledge, and by reasoning, he comes to such a conclusion +that he decides that the chief good of man, which deserves to +be praised and desired for its own sake, is placed in what the +Stoics call ὁμολογία, and we agreement, if you approve of this +translation of the term; as therefore it is in this that that good +is placed to which all things [which are done honourably] are +to be referred, and honour itself, which is reckoned among the +goods, although it is only produced subsequently, still this +alone deserves to be sought for on account of its intrinsic power +and worth; but of those things which are the principal natural +goods there is not one which is to be sought for its own sake. +</p> + +<p> +But as those things which I have called duties proceed +from the first principles of nature, they must necessarily be +referred to them; so that it may be fairly said that all duties +are referred to this end, of arriving at the principles of nature; +not, however, that this is the highest of all goods, because +there is no such thing as honourable action in the first attractions +of nature; for that is what follows, and arises subsequently, +as I have said before. But still it is according to +nature, and encourages us to desire itself much more than +all those things which have been previously mentioned. But, +first of all, we must remove a mistake, that no one may think +that it follows that there are two supreme goods. For as, if +it were the purpose of any one to direct an arrow or a spear +straight at any object, just as we have said that there is an +especial point to be aimed at in goods,—the archer ought to +do all in his power to aim straight at the target, and the other +man ought also to do his endeavour to hit the mark, and gain +the end which he has proposed to himself: let this then +which we call the chief good in life be, as it were, his mark; +and his endeavour to hit it must be furthered by careful +selection, not by mere desire. +</p> + +<p> +VII. But as all duties proceed from the first principles +of nature, it follows inevitably that wisdom itself must proceed +<pb n='188'/><anchor id='Pg188'/> +from the same source. But as it often happens, that he +who has been recommended to any one considers him to +whom he has been recommended of more importance than +him who recommended him; so it is not at all strange that in +the first instance we are recommended to wisdom by the +principles of nature, but that subsequently wisdom herself +becomes dearer to us than the starting place from which we +arrive at it. And as limbs have been given to us in such +a way that it is plain they have been given for some purpose +of life; so that appetite of the mind which in Greek is called +ὁρμὴ, appears to have been given to us, not for any particular +kind of life, but rather for some especial manner of living: +and so too is system and perfect method. For as an actor +employs gestures, and a dancer motions, not practising any +random movement, but a regular systematic action; so life +must be passed according to a certain fixed kind, and not any +promiscuous way, and that certain kind we call a suitable +and harmonious one. Nor do we think wisdom similar to +the art of navigation or medicine, but rather to that kind +of action which I have spoken of, and to dancing; I mean, inasmuch +as the ultimate point, that is to say, the production +of the art, lies in the art itself, and is not sought for from +foreign sources. And yet there are other points in which +there is a difference between wisdom and those arts; because +in those arts those things which are done properly do nevertheless +not comprise all the parts of the arts of which they +consist. But the things which we call right, or rightly done, +if you will allow the expression, and which they call κατορθώματα, +contain in them the whole completeness of virtue. +For wisdom is the only thing which is contained wholly in +itself; and this is not the case with the other arts. +</p> + +<p> +And it is only out of ignorance that the object of the art of +medicine or navigation is compared with the object of wisdom; +for wisdom embraces greatness of mind and justice, and +judges all the accidents which befal mankind beneath itself: +and this too is not the case in the other arts. But no one +will be able to maintain those very virtues of which I have +just made mention, unless he lays down a rule that there +is nothing which is of any importance, nothing which differs +from anything else, except what is honourable or disgraceful. +</p> + +<p> +VIII. Let us see now how admirably these rules follow from +<pb n='189'/><anchor id='Pg189'/> +those principles which I have already laid down. For as this +is the ultimate (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>extremum</foreign>) +point, (for you have noticed, I dare +say, that I translate what the Greek philosopher calls τέλος, +sometimes by the word <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>extremum</foreign>, +sometimes by <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>ultimum</foreign>, and +sometimes by <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>summum</foreign>, +and instead of <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>extremum</foreign> +or <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>ultimum</foreign>, +I may also use the word <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>finis</foreign>,)—as, +then, this is the ultimate +point, to live in a manner suitable to and harmonising with +nature; it follows of necessity that all wise men do always +live happily, perfectly, and fortunately; that they are hindered +by nothing, embarrassed by nothing; that they are in +want of nothing. And that which holds together not more +that school of which I am speaking than our lives and fortunes, +that is to say, the principle of accounting what is +honourable to be the sole good, may indeed easily be embellished +and enlarged upon at great length, with great richness +of illustration, with great variety of carefully chosen +expressions, and with the most pompous sentiments in a +rhetorical manner; but I prefer the brief, acute, conclusive +arguments of the Stoics. Now their conclusions are arrived +at in this manner: <q>Everything which is good is praiseworthy; +but everything which is praiseworthy is honourable;—therefore, +everything which is good is honourable.</q> Does +not this appear properly deduced? Undoubtedly;—for the +result which was obtained from the two premises which were +assumed, you see was contained in them. But of the two +premises from which the conclusion was inferred it is only +the major one which can be contradicted—if you say that it +is not the case, that everything which is good is praiseworthy: +for it is granted that whatever is praiseworthy is honourable. +But it is utterly absurd to say, that there is anything good +which is not to be sought for; or, that there is anything which +ought to be sought for which is not pleasing; or, that if it is +pleasing it ought not likewise to be loved. Then it ought also +to be approved of. Then it is praiseworthy. But what is +praiseworthy is honourable. And so the result is, that whatever +is good is also honourable. In the next place, I ask, +who can boast of a life which is miserable; or avoid boasting +of one which is happy?—therefore men boast only of a life +which is happy. From which the consequence follows, that +a happy life deserves to be boasted of; but this cannot +properly be predicated of any life which is not an honourable +<pb n='190'/><anchor id='Pg190'/> +one. From this it follows, that a happy life must be an +honourable one. And since the man to whom it happens to +be deservedly praised has some eminent qualities tending to +credit and glory, so that he may rightly be called happy on +account of such important qualities; the same thing is properly +predicated of the life of such a man. And so, if a +happy life is discerned by its honourableness, then what +is honourable ought to be considered the sole good. And, as +this cannot possibly be denied, what man do we say can ever +exist of a stable and firm and great mind,—whom, in fact, can +we ever call brave,—unless the point is established, that pain +is not an evil? For as it is impossible that the man who +ranks death among evils should not fear it, so in every case +it is impossible for a man to disregard what he judges to be +an evil, and to despise it. And when this point has been +laid down, and ratified by universal assent, this is assumed +next, that the man who is of a brave and magnanimous spirit +despises and utterly disregards every accident which can +befal a man. And as this is the case, the consequence is, that +there is nothing evil which is not disgraceful. And that man +of lofty and excellent spirit,—that magnanimous and truly +brave man, who considers all human accidents beneath his +notice,—the man I mean whom we wish to make so, whom at +all events we are looking for,—ought to confide in himself, and +in his own life both past and to come, and to form a favourable +judgment of himself, laying down as a principle, that no +evil can happen to a wise man. From which again the same +result follows, that the sole good is that which is honourable; +and that to live happily is to live honourably, that is, virtuously. +</p> + +<p> +IX. Not that I am ignorant that the opinions of philosophers +have been various, of those I mean who have placed +the chief good, that which I call the end, in the mind. And +although some people have followed them very incorrectly, +still I prefer their theory, not only to that of the three sects +who have separated virtue from the chief good, while ranking +either pleasure, or freedom from pain, or the original gifts of +nature among goods, but also to the other three who have +thought that virtue would be crippled without some reinforcement, +and on that account have each added to it one of +those other particulars which I have just enumerated. I, +<pb n='191'/><anchor id='Pg191'/> +however, as I said, prefer to all these the men, whoever they +may be, who have described the chief good as consisting in +the mind and in virtue. But nevertheless, those also are +extremely absurd who have said that to live with knowledge +is the highest good, and who have asserted that there is no +difference between things, and so, that a wise man will surely +be a happy one, never at any moment of his life preferring +one thing to another: as some of the Academics are said to +have laid it down, that the highest good and the chief duty +of a wise man is to resist appearances, and firmly to withhold +his assent from them. +</p> + +<p> +Now people often make very lengthy replies to each of +these assertions; yet what is very clear ought not to be long. +But what is more evident than, if there be no selection made, +discarding those things which are contrary to nature, and +selecting those which are according to nature, all that prudence +which is so much sought after and extolled would be +done away with? If, then, we discard those sentiments which +I have mentioned, and all others which resemble them, it +remains that the chief good must be to live, exercising a +knowledge of those things which happen by nature, selecting +what is according to nature, and rejecting any which are contrary +to nature; that is to say, to live in a manner suitable +and corresponding to nature. +</p> + +<p> +But in other arts, when anything is said to have been done +according to the rules of art, there is something to be +considered which is subsequent and follows upon such compliance; +which they call ἐπιγεννηματικόν. But when we say +in any matter that a thing has been done wisely, that same +thing is from the first said also to have been done most properly; +for whatever proceeds from a wise man must at once +be perfect in all its parts: for in him is placed that quality +which we say is to be desired. For as it is a sin to betray +one's country, to injure one's parents, to plunder temples, +which are all sins of commission; so it is likewise a sin to be +afraid, to grieve, to be under the dominion of lust, even if no +overt act follows these feelings. But, as these are sins, not in +their later periods and consequences, but at once from the first +moment; so those actions which proceed from virtue are to be +considered right at the first moment that they are undertaken, +and not only when they are accomplished. +</p> + +<pb n='192'/><anchor id='Pg192'/> + +<p> +X. But it may be as well to give an explanation and definition +of the word good, which, has been so often employed in this discourse. +But the definitions of those philosophers differ a good +deal from one another, and yet have all reference to the same +facts. I myself agree with Diogenes, who has defined good to be +that which in its nature is perfect. But that which follows, that +which is profitable (for so we may translate his ὼφέλημα), he +considered to be a motion, or a state, arising out of the nature of +the perfect. And as the notions of things arise in the mind, +if anything has become known either by practice, or by combination, +or by similitude, or by the comparison of reason; +then by this fourth means, which I have placed last, the +knowledge of good is arrived at. For when, by a comparison +of the reason, the mind ascends from those things which are +according to reason, then it arrives at a notion of good. And +this good we are speaking of, we both feel to be and call +good, not because of any addition made to it, nor from its +growth, nor from comparing it with other things, but because +of its own proper power. For as honey, although it is very +sweet, is still perceived to be sweet by its own peculiar kind +of taste, and not by comparison with other things; so this +good, which we are now treating of, is indeed to be esteemed +of great value; but that valuation depends on kind and not +on magnitude. For as estimation, which is called ἀξί, is not +reckoned among goods, nor, on the other hand, among evils, +whatever you add to it will remain in its kind. There is, +therefore, another kind of estimation proper to virtue, which is +of weight from its character, and not because of its increasing. +Nor, indeed, are the perturbations of the mind, which make +the lives of the unwise bitter and miserable, and which the +Greeks call πάθη, (I might translate the word itself by the +Latin <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>morbi</foreign>, +but it would not suit all the meanings of the +Greek word; for who ever calls pity, or even anger, a +disease—<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>morbus</foreign>)? +but the Greeks do call such a feeling πάθος. Let +us then translate it perturbation, which is by its very name +pointed out to be something vicious. Nor are these perturbations, +I say, excited by any natural force; and they are +altogether in kind four, but as to their divisions they are more +numerous. There is melancholy, fear, lust, and that feeling +which the Stoics call by the common name which they apply +to both mind and body, ἡδονὴ, and which I prefer translating +<pb n='193'/><anchor id='Pg193'/> +joy (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>lætitia</foreign>), +rather than a pleasurable elation of an exulting +mind. But perturbations are not excited by any force +of nature; and all those feelings are judgments and opinions +proceeding from light-mindedness; and, therefore, the wise man +will always be free from them. +</p> + +<p> +XI. But that everything which is honourable is to be +sought for its own sake, is an opinion common to us with +many other schools of philosophers. For, except the three +sects which exclude virtue from the chief good, this opinion +must be maintained by all philosophers, and above all by us, +who do not rank anything whatever among goods except what +is honourable. But the defence of this opinion is very easy +and simple indeed; for who is there, or who ever was there, +of such violent avarice, or of such unbridled desires as not +infinitely to prefer that anything which he wishes to acquire, +even at the expense of any conceivable wickedness, should +come into his power without crime, (even though he had +a prospect of perfect impunity,) than through crime? and +what utility, or what personal advantage do we hope for, when +we are anxious to know whether those bodies are moving +whose movements are concealed from us, and owing to what +causes they revolve through the heavens? And who is there +that lives according to such clownish maxims, or who has so +rigorously hardened himself against the study of nature, as to +be averse to things worthy of being understood, and to be +indifferent to and disregard such knowledge, merely because +there is no exact usefulness or pleasure likely to result from it? +or, who is there who—when he comes to know the exploits, +and sayings, and wise counsels of our forefathers, of the Africani, +or of that ancestor of mine whom you are always talking +of, and of other brave men, and citizens of pre-eminent +virtue—does not feel his mind affected with pleasure? and +who that has been brought up in a respectable family, and +educated as becomes a freeman, is not offended with baseness +as such, though it may not be likely to injure him personally? +Who can keep his equanimity while looking on a man who, he +thinks, lives in an impure and wicked manner? Who does +not hate sordid, fickle, unstable, worthless men? But what +shall we be able to say, (if we do not lay it down that baseness +is to be avoided for its own sake), is the reason why men +do not seek darkness and solitude, and then give the rein +<pb n='194'/><anchor id='Pg194'/> +to every possible infamy, except that baseness of itself detects +them by reason of its own intrinsic foulness? Innumerable +arguments may be brought forward to support this opinion; +but it is needless, for there is nothing which can be less +a matter of doubt than that what is honourable ought to +be sought for its own sake; and, in the same manner, what is +disgraceful ought to be avoided. +</p> + +<p> +But after that point is established, which we have previously +mentioned, that what is honourable is the sole good; +it must unavoidably be understood that that which is honourable, +is to be valued more highly than those intermediate +goods which we derive from it. But when we say that folly, +and rashness, and injustice, and intemperance are to be +avoided on account of those things which result from them, +we do not speak in such a manner that our language is at all +inconsistent with the position which has been laid down, that +that alone is evil which is dishonourable. Because those +things are not referred to any inconvenience of the body, but +to dishonourable actions, which arise out of vicious propensities +(<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>vitia</foreign>). +For what the Greeks call κακία I prefer translating +by <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>vitium</foreign> +rather than by <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>malitia</foreign>. +</p> + +<p> +XII. Certainly; Cato, said I, you are employing very +admirable language, and such as expresses clearly what you +mean; and, therefore, you seem to me to be teaching philosophy +in Latin, and, as it were, to be presenting it with the +freedom of the city. For up to this time she has seemed +like a stranger at Rome, and has not put herself in the way +of our conversation; and that, too, chiefly because of a certain +highly polished thinness of things and words. For I am +aware that there are some men who are able to philosophise +in any language, but who still employ no divisions and no +definitions; and who say themselves that they approve of +those things alone to which nature silently assents. Therefore, +they discuss, without any great degree of labour, matters which +are not very obscure. And, on this account, I am now prepared +to listen eagerly to you, and to commit to memory all +the names which you give to those matters to which this +discussion refers. For, perhaps, I myself may some day have +reason to employ them too. +</p> + +<p> +You, then, appear to me to be perfectly right, and to be +acting in strict accordance with our usual way of speaking, +<pb n='195'/><anchor id='Pg195'/> +when you lay it down that there are vices the exact opposites +of virtues; for that which is blameable +(<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>vituperabile</foreign>) for its +own sake, I think ought, from that very fact, to be called a +vice; and perhaps this verb, <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>vitupero</foreign>, +is derived from <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>vitium</foreign>. +But if you had translated κακία by +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>malitia</foreign>,<note place='foot'><q>Malitia, +badness of quality ... especially malice, ill-will, spite, +malevolence, artfulness, cunning, craft.</q>—Riddle and Arnold, Lat. Dict.</note> +then the usage +of the Latin language would have limited us to one particular +vice; but, as it is, all vice is opposed to all virtue by one +generic opposite name. +</p> + +<p> +XIII. Then he proceeded:—After these things, therefore, +are thus laid down, there follows a great contest, which has +been handled by the Peripatetics somewhat too gently, (for +their method of arguing is not sufficiently acute, owing to +their ignorance of dialectics;) but your Carneades has pressed +the matter with great vigour and effect, displaying in reference +to it a most admirable skill in dialectics, and the most +consummate eloquence; because he has never ceased to contend +throughout the whole of this discussion, which turns +upon what is good and what is bad, that the controversy between +the Stoics and Peripatetics is not one of things, but +only of names. But, to me, nothing appears so evident as +that the opinions of these two schools differ from one another +far more as to facts than to names; I mean to say, that +there is much greater difference between the Stoics and Peripatetics +in principle than in language. Forasmuch as the +Peripatetics assert that everything which they themselves +call good, has a reference to living happily; but our school +does not think that a happy life necessarily embraces everything +which is worthy of any esteem. +</p> + +<p> +But can anything be more certain than that, according to +the principles of those men who rank pain among the evils, +a wise man cannot be happy when he is tormented on the +rack? While the principles of those who do not consider +pain among the evils, certainly compels us to allow that +a happy life is preserved to a wise man among all torments. +In truth, if those men endure pain with greater fortitude +who suffer it in the cause of their country, than those who do +so for any slighter object; then it is plain that it is opinion, +and not nature, which makes the force of pain greater or less. +Even that opinion of the Peripatetics is more than I can +<pb n='196'/><anchor id='Pg196'/> +agree to, that, as there are three kinds of goods, as they say, +each individual is the happier in proportion as he is richer in +the goods of the body or external goods, so that we must be +forced also to approve of this doctrine, that that man is +happier who has a greater quantity of those things which are +accounted of great value as affecting the body. For they +think that a happy life is made complete by bodily advantages; +but there is nothing which our philosophers can so +little agree to. For, as our opinion is that life is not even +made in the least more happy by an abundance of those +goods which we call goods of nature, nor more desirable, nor +deserving of being more highly valued, then certainly a multitude +of bodily advantages can have still less effect on +making life happy. In truth, if to be wise be a desirable +thing, and to be well be so too, then both together must be +more desirable than wisdom by itself; but it does not follow, +if each quality deserves to be esteemed, that therefore, the +two taken together deserve to be esteemed more highly than +wisdom does by itself. For we who consider good health +worthy of any esteem, and yet do not rank it among the +goods, think, at the same time, that the esteem to which it is +entitled is by no means such as that it ought to be preferred +to virtue. But this is not the doctrine of the Peripatetics; +and they ought to tell us, that that which is an honourable +action and unaccompanied by pain, is more to be desired +than the same action would be if it were attended with pain. +We think not: whether we are right or wrong may be discussed +hereafter; but can there possibly be a greater disagreement +respecting facts and principles? +</p> + +<p> +XIV. For as the light of a candle is obscured and put out +by the light of the sun; and as a drop of brine is lost in the +magnitude of the Ægæan sea; or an addition of a penny +amid the riches of Crœsus; or as one step is of no account in +a march from here to India; so, if that is the chief good +which the Stoics affirm is so, then, all the goods which +depend on the body must inevitably be obscured and overwhelmed +by, and come to nothing when placed by the side of +the splendour and importance of virtue. And since opportunity, +(for that is how we may translate εὐκαιρία,) is not made +greater by extending the time, (for whatever is said to be +opportune has its own peculiar limit;) so a right action, (for +<pb n='197'/><anchor id='Pg197'/> +that is how I translate κατόρθωσις, and a right deed I call +κατόρθωμα,)—a right action, I say, and suitableness, and, in +short, the good itself, which depends on the fact of its being +in accordance with nature, has no possibility of receiving any +addition or growth. For as that opportunity is not made +greater by the extension of time, so neither are these things +which I have mentioned. And, on that account, a happy life +does not seem to the Stoics more desirable or more deserving +of being sought after, if it is long than if it is short; and they +prove this by a simile:—As the praise of a buskin is to fit +the foot exactly, and as many buskins are not considered to +fit better than few, and large ones are not thought better than +small ones; so, in the case of those the whole good of which +depends upon its suitableness and fitness; many are not preferred +to few, nor what is durable to what is short-lived. +Nor do they exhibit sufficient acuteness when they say, if +good health is more to be esteemed when it lasts long than +when it lasts only a short time, then the longest possible enjoyment +of wisdom must clearly be of the greatest value. +They do not understand that the estimate of good health is +formed expressly with reference to its duration; of virtue with +reference to its fitness of time; so that men who argue in this +manner, seem as if they would speak of a good death, or a +good labour, and call one which lasted long, better than a +short one. They do not perceive that some things are +reckoned of more value in proportion to their brevity; and +some in proportion to their length. Therefore, it is quite +consistent with what has been said, that according to the principles +of those who think that that end of goods which we +call the extreme or chief good, is susceptible of growth, they +may also think that one man can be wiser than another; and, +in like manner then, one man may sin more, or act more +rightly than another. But such an assertion is not allowable +to us, who do not think the end of goods susceptible of +growth. For as men who have been submerged under the +water, cannot breathe any more because they are at no great +depth below the surface, (though they may on this account +be able at times to emerge,) than if they were at the bottom, +nor can the puppy who is nearly old enough to see, as yet see +any more than one who is but this moment born; so the man +who has made some progress towards the approach to virtue, +<pb n='198'/><anchor id='Pg198'/> +is no less in a state of misery than he who has made no such +advance at all. +</p> + +<p> +XV. I am aware that all this seems very strange. But as +unquestionably the previous propositions are true and uncontrovertible, +and as these others are in harmony with, and are +the direct consequences of them; we cannot question their +truth also. But although some people deny that either +virtues or vices are susceptible of growth, still they believe +that each of them is in some degree diffused, and as it were +extended. But Diogenes thinks that riches have not only +such power, that they are, as it were, guides to pleasure and +to good health, but that they even contain them: but that +they have not the same power with regard to virtue, or to +the other arts to which money may indeed be a guide, but +which it cannot contain. Therefore, if pleasure or if good +health be among the goods, riches also must be classed +among the goods; but if wisdom be a good, it does not follow +that we are also to call riches a good; nor can that which is +classed among the goods be contained by anything which is +not placed in the same classification. And on that account, +because the knowledge and comprehension of those things by +which arts are produced, excite a desire for them, as riches +are not among the goods, therefore no art can be contained +in riches. +</p> + +<p> +But if we grant this to be true with respect to arts, still it +is not to follow that the same rule holds good with respect to +virtue; because virtue requires a great deal of meditation +and practice, and this is not always the case with arts; and +also because virtue embraces the stability, firmness, and consistency +of the entire life; and we do not see that the same +is the case with arts. +</p> + +<p> +After this, we come to explain the differences between +things. And if we were to say that there is none, then all +life would be thrown into confusion, as it is by Aristo. Nor +could any office or work be found for wisdom, if there were +actually no difference between one thing and another, and if +there were no power of selection at all requisite to be exerted. +Therefore, after it had been sufficiently established that that +alone was good which was honourable, and that alone evil +which was disgraceful, they asserted that there were some +particulars in which those things which had no influence on +<pb n='199'/><anchor id='Pg199'/> +the misery or happiness of life, differed from one another, so +that some of them deserved to be esteemed, some to be +despised, and others were indifferent. But as to those things +which deserved to be esteemed, some of them had in themselves +sufficient reason for being preferred to others, as good +health, soundness of the senses, freedom from pain, glory, +riches, and similar things. But others were not of this kind. +And in like manner, as to those things which were worthy of +no esteem at all, some had cause enough in themselves why +they should be rejected, such as pain, disease, loss of senses, +poverty, ignominy, and things like them, and some had not. +And thus, from this distinction, came what Zeno called +προηγμένον, and on the other hand what he called ἀποπροηγμένον, +as though writing in so copious a language, he chose to +employ new terms of his own invention; a license which is +not allowed to us in this barren language of ours; although +you often insist that it is richer than the Greek. But it +is not foreign to our present subject, in order that the meaning +of the word may be more easily understood, to explain the +principle on which Zeno invented these terms. +</p> + +<p> +XVI. For as, says he, no one in a king's palace says that +the king is, as it were, led forward towards his dignity (for +that is the real meaning of the word προηγμένον, but the +term is applied to those who are of some rank whose order +comes next to his, so as to be second to the kingly dignity); +so in life too, it is not those things which are in the first +rank, but those which are in the second which are called +προηγμένα, or led forward. And we may translate the Greek +by <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>productum</foreign> +(this will be a strictly literal translation), or we may call +it and its opposite <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>promotum</foreign> +and <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>remotum</foreign>, or as +we have said before, we may call προηγμένον, +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>præpositum</foreign> or +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>præcipuum</foreign>, +and its opposite <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>rejectum</foreign>. For when the thing +is understood, we ought to be very ductile as to the words +which we employ. +</p> + +<p> +But since we say that everything which is good holds the +first rank, it follows inevitably that this which we call +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>præcipuum</foreign> +or <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>præpositum</foreign>, must be neither good nor bad. +And therefore we define it as something indifferent, attended +with a moderate esteem. For that which they call ἀδιάφορον, +it occurs to me to translate <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>indifferens</foreign>. +Nor, indeed, was it +at all possible that there should be nothing left intermediate, +<pb n='200'/><anchor id='Pg200'/> +which was either according to nature or contrary to it; nor, +when that was left, that there should be nothing ranked in +this class which was tolerably estimable; nor, if this position +were once established, that there should not be some things +which are preferred. This distinction, then, has been made +with perfect propriety, and this simile is employed by them +to make the truth more easily seen. For as, say they, if we +were to suppose this to be, as it were, the end and greatest of +goods, to throw a die in such a manner that it should stand +upright, then the die which is thrown in such a manner as to +fall upright, will have some particular thing preferred as its +end, and <foreign rend='italic'>vice versâ</foreign>. And yet that preference of the die +will have no reference to the end of which I have been speaking. +So those things which have been preferred are referred +indeed to the end, but have no reference at all to its force or +nature. +</p> + +<p> +Next comes that division, that of goods some have reference +to that end (for so I express those which they call τελικὰ, for +we must here, as we have said before, endure to express in +many words, what we cannot express by one so as to be +thoroughly intelligible,) some are efficient causes, and some +are both together. But of those which have reference to +that end, nothing is good except honourable actions; of those +which are efficient causes, nothing is good except a friend. +But they assert that wisdom is both a referential and an efficient +good. For, because wisdom is suitable action, it is of +that referential character which I have mentioned; but inasmuch +as it brings and causes honourable actions, it may be so +far called efficient. +</p> + +<p> +XVII. Now these things which we have spoken of as preferred, +are preferred some for their own sake, some because +they effect something else, and some for both reasons. Some +are preferred for their own sake, such as some particular +appearance or expression of countenance, some particular +kind of gait, or motion, in which there are some things which +may well be preferred, and some which may be rejected. +Others are said to be preferred because they produce something, +as money; and others for a combination of both +reasons, as soundness of the senses, or good health. But +respecting good reputation, (for what they call εὐδοξία is more +properly called, in this place, good reputation than glory,) +<pb n='201'/><anchor id='Pg201'/> +Chrysippus and Diogenes denied its whole utility, and used +to say that one ought not even to put forth a finger for the +sake of it, with whom I entirely and heartily agree. But +those who came after them, being unable to withstand the +arguments of Carneades, said that this good reputation, as I +call it, was preferred for its own sake, and ought to be chosen +for its own sake, and that it was natural for a man of good +family, who had been properly brought up, to wish to be +praised by his parents, his relations, and by good men in +general, and that too for the sake of the praise itself, and not +of any advantage which might ensue from it. And they say, +too, that as we wish to provide for our children, even for such +as may be posthumous children, for their own sake, so we ought +also to show a regard for posthumous fame after our death, for +its own sake, without any thought of gain or advantage. +</p> + +<p> +But as we assert that what is honourable is the only good, +still it is consistent with this assertion to discharge one's duty, +though we do not class duty among either the goods or the +evils. For there is in these things some likelihood, and that of +such a nature that reasons can be alleged for there being such; +and therefore of such a nature, that probable reasons may be +adduced for adopting such a line of conduct. From which it +follows that duty is a sort of neutral thing, which is not to be +classed either among the goods or among the opposites of goods. +And since, in those things which are neither ranked among +the virtues nor among the vices, there is still something which +may be of use; that is not to be destroyed. For there is a +certain action of that sort, and that too of such a character +that reason requires one to do and perform it. But that +which is done in obedience to reason we call duty; duty, then, +is a thing of that sort, that it must not be ranked either +among the goods or among the opposites of goods. +</p> + +<p> +XVIII. And this also is evident, that in these natural +things the wise man is not altogether inactive. He therefore, +when he acts, judges that that is his duty; and because he is +never deceived in forming his judgment, duty must be classed +among neutral things; and this is proved also by this conclusion +of reason. For since we see that there is something +which we pronounce to have been rightly done (for that is +duty when accomplished), there must also be something +which is rightly begun: as, if to restore what has been justly +<pb n='202'/><anchor id='Pg202'/> +deposited belongs to the class of right actions, then it must +be classed among the duties to restore a deposit; and the +addition of the word <q>justly</q> makes the duty to be rightly +performed: but the mere fact of restoring is classed as a +duty. And since it is not doubtful, that in those things which +we call intermediate or neutral, some ought to be chosen +and others rejected, whatever is done or said in this manner +comes under the head of ordinary duty. And from this it is +understood, since all men naturally love themselves, that a +fool is as sure as a wise man to choose what is in accordance +with nature, and to reject what is contrary to it; and so there +is one duty in common both to wise men and to fools; from +which it follows that duty is conversant about those things +which we call neutral. But since all duties proceed from +these things, it is not without reason that it is said that all +our thoughts are referred to these things, and among them +our departure from life, and our remaining in life. +</p> + +<p> +For he in whom there are many things which are in +accordance with nature, his duty it is to remain in life; but +as to the man in whom there either is or appears likely to +be a preponderance of things contrary to nature, that man's +duty is to depart from life. From which consideration it is +evident, that it is sometimes the duty of a wise man to +depart from life when he is happy, and sometimes the duty +of a fool to remain in life though he is miserable. For that +good and that evil, as has been often said, comes afterwards. +But those principal natural goods, and those which hold the +second rank, and those things which are opposite to them, all +come under the decision of, and are matters for the reflection +of the wise man; and are, as it were, the subject matter of +wisdom. Therefore the question of remaining in life, or of +emigrating from it, is to be measured by all those circumstances +which I have mentioned above; for death is not to +be sought for by those men who are retained in life by virtue, +nor by those who are destitute of virtue. But it is often the +duty of a wise man to depart from life, when he is thoroughly +happy, if it is in his power to do so opportunely; and that +is living in a manner suitable to nature, for their maxim is, +that living happily depends upon opportunity. Therefore a +rule is laid down by wisdom, that if it be necessary a wise +man is even to leave her herself. +</p> + +<pb n='203'/><anchor id='Pg203'/> + +<p> +Wherefore, as vice has not such power as to afford a justifying +cause for voluntary death, it is evident that it is the +duty even of fools, and of those too who are miserable, to +remain in life, if they are surrounded by a preponderance of +those things which we call according to nature. And since +such a man is equally miserable, whether departing from life, +or abiding in it, and since the duration of misery is not any +the more a cause for fleeing from life, therefore it is not a +causeless assertion, that those men who have the power of +enjoying the greatest number of natural goods, ought to +abide in life. +</p> + +<p> +XIX. But they think it is very important with reference +to this subject, that it should be understood that it is the +work of nature, that children are beloved by their parents; +and that this is the first principle from which we may trace +the whole progress of the common society of the human race. +And that this may be inferred, in the first place, from the +figure and members of the body, which of themselves declare +that a due regard for everything connected with generation +has been exhibited by nature; nor can these two things +possibly be consistent with one another, that nature should +desire that offspring should be propagated, and yet take no +care that what is propagated should be loved. But even in +beasts the power of nature may be discerned; for when we +see such labour bestowed upon the bringing forth and bearing +of their offspring, we seem to be hearing the voice of +nature herself. Wherefore, as it is evident that we are by +nature averse to pain; so also it is clear that we are impelled +by nature herself to love those whose existence we have +caused. And from this it arises that there is such a recommendation +by nature of one man to another, that one man +ought never to appear unfriendly to another, for the simple +reason that he is a man. +</p> + +<p> +For as among the limbs some appear to be created for +themselves as it were, as the eyes and ears; others assist the +rest of the limbs, as the legs and hands; so there are some +monstrous beasts born for themselves alone: but that fish +which floats in an open shell and is called the pinna, and +that other which swims out of the shell, and, because it is a +guard to the other, is called the pinnoteres, and when it has +withdrawn within the shell again, is shut up in it, so that it +<pb n='204'/><anchor id='Pg204'/> +appears that it has given it warning to be on its guard; and +also ants, and bees, and storks, do something for the sake of +others. Much more is this the case with reference to the +union of men. And therefore we are by nature adapted for +companionship, for taking counsel together, for forming states. +But they think that this world is regulated by the wisdom of +the gods, and that it is, as it were, a common city and state of +men and gods, and that every individual of us is a part of the +world. From which that appears to follow by nature, that +we should prefer the general advantage to our own. For as +the laws prefer the general safety to that of individuals, so a +good and wise man, and one who obeys the laws and who is +not ignorant of his duty as a citizen, consults the general +advantage rather than that of any particular individual, or +even than his own. Nor is a betrayer of his country more +to be blamed, than one who deserts the general advantage or +the general safety on account of his own private advantage +or safety. From which it also follows, that that man deserves +to be praised who encounters death voluntarily for the sake +of the republic, because it is right that the republic should +be dearer to us than ourselves. And since it is said to be a +wicked thing, and contrary to human nature, for a man +to say that he would not care if, after his own death, a +general conflagration of the whole world were to happen, +which is often uttered in a Greek<note place='foot'>The Greek +proverb was, ἐμοῦ θανόντος γαῖα μιχθήτω πυρί.</note> verse; so it is certainly +true that we ought to consult the interests of those who are +to come after us, for the sake of the love which we bear +them. +</p> + +<p> +XX. It is in this disposition of mind that wills, and the +recommendations of dying persons, have originated. And +because no one would like to pass his life in solitude, not +even if surrounded with an infinite abundance of pleasures, it +is easily perceived that we are born for communion and fellowship +with man, and for natural associations. But we are +impelled by nature to wish to benefit as many persons as +possible, especially by instructing them and delivering them +precepts of prudence. Therefore, it is not easy to find a man +who does not communicate to some other what he knows +himself; so prone are we not only to learn, but also to teach. +And as the principle is by nature implanted in bulls to fight +<pb n='205'/><anchor id='Pg205'/> +in behalf of their calves with the greatest vigour and earnestness, +even against lions; so those who are rich or powerful, +and are able to do so, are excited by nature to preserve the +race of mankind, as we have heard by tradition was the case +with Hercules and Libera. And also when we call Jupiter +all-powerful and all-good, and likewise when we speak of him +as the salutary god, the hospitable god, or as Stator, we mean +it to be understood that the safety of men is under his protection. +But it is very inconsistent, when we are disregarded +and despised by one another, to entreat, that we may be dear +to and beloved by the immortal gods. As, therefore, we +make use of our limbs before we have learnt the exact advantage +with a view to which we are endowed with them, so also +we are united and associated by nature in a community of +fellow-citizens. And if this were not the case, there would be +no room for either justice or benevolence. +</p> + +<p> +And as men think that there are bonds of right which +connect man with man, so also there is no law which connects +man with the beasts. For well did Chrysippus say, that all +other animals have been born for the sake of men and of the +gods; but that men and gods have been born only for the +sake of their own mutual communion and society, so that +men might be able to use beasts for their own advantage +without any violation of law or right. And since the nature +of man is such that he has, as it were, a sort of right of citizenship +connecting him with the whole human race, a man who +maintains that right is just, and he who departs from it is +unjust. +</p> + +<p> +But as, although a theatre is publicly open, still it may be +fairly said that the place which each individual has occupied +belongs to him; so in a city, or in the world, which is likewise +common to all, there is no principle of right which hinders +each individual from having his own private property. But +since we see that man has been born for the purpose of +defending and preserving men, so it is consistent with this +nature that a wise man should wish to manage and regulate +the republic; and, in order to live in compliance with nature, +to marry a wife and beget children. Nor do philosophers +think virtuous love inconsistent with a wise man. But others +say that the principles and life of the Cynics are more suited +to a wise man; if, indeed, any chance should befal him which +<pb n='206'/><anchor id='Pg206'/> +might compel him to act in such a manner; while others +wholly deny it. +</p> + +<p> +XXI. But in order that the society, and union, and +affection between man and man may be completely preserved, +they have laid it down that all benefits and injuries, +which they call ὠφελήματα and βλάμματα, are likewise common; +of which the former are advantageous, and the latter +injurious. Nor have they been contented with calling them +common, but they have also asserted their equality. But as +for disadvantages and advantages, (by which words I translate +εὐχρηστήματα and δυσχρηστήματα,) those they assert to be +common, but they deny that they are equal. For those +things which profit or which injure are either good or evil; +and they must necessarily be equal. But advantages and +disadvantages are of that kind which we have already called +things preferred or rejected; and they cannot be equal. +But advantages are said to be common; but things done +rightly, and sins, are not considered common. But they think +that friendship is to be cultivated because it is one of that +class of things which is profitable. But although, in friendship, +some people assert that the interest of a man's friend is +as dear to him as his own; others, on the other hand, contend +that every man has a greater regard for his own. Yet these +latter confess that it is inconsistent with justice, for which we +seem to be born, to take anything from another for the purpose +of appropriating it to oneself. But philosophers of this +school which I am speaking of, never approve of either friendship +or justice being exercised or sanctioned for the sake of +its usefulness: for they say that the same principles of usefulness +may, at times, undermine or overturn them. In +truth, neither justice nor friendship can have any existence at +all, unless they be sought for their own sake. They contend +also that all right, which has any pretence to the name and +appellation, is so by nature; and that it is inconsistent with +the character of a wise man, not only to do any injustice to +any one, but even to do him any damage. Nor is it right to +make such a league with one's friends as to share in all their +good deeds, or to become a partner in every act of injustice; +and they argue, with the greatest dignity and truth, that +justice can never be separated from usefulness: and that whatever +is just and equitable is also honourable; and, reciprocally, +<pb n='207'/><anchor id='Pg207'/> +that whatever is honourable must be also just and +equitable. +</p> + +<p> +And to those virtues which we have discussed, they also +add dialectics and natural philosophy; and they call both +these sciences by the name of virtues: one, because it has +reason, so as to prevent our assenting to any false proposition, +or being even deceived by any plausible probability; and to +enable us to maintain and defend what we were saying about +good and evil. For without this act they think that any one +may be led away from the truth and deceived; accordingly, if +rashness and ignorance is in every case vicious, this power +which removes them is properly named virtue. +</p> + +<p> +XXII. The same honour is also attributed to natural philosophy, +and not without reason, because the man who wishes +to live in a manner suitable to nature, must begin by studying +the universal world, and the laws which govern it. Nor +can any one form a correct judgment of good and evil without +being acquainted with the whole system of nature, and of +the life of the gods also, and without knowing whether or not +the nature of man agrees with universal nature. He must also +have learnt the ancient rules of those wise men who bid men +yield to the times, and obey God, and know oneself, and +shun every kind of excess. Now, without a knowledge of +natural philosophy, no man can see what great power these +rules have; and it is as great as can be: and also this is the +only knowledge which can teach a man how greatly nature +assists in the cultivation of justice, in the maintenance of +friendship and the rest of the affections. Nor can piety +towards the Gods, nor the gratitude which is due to them, be +properly understood and appreciated without a correct understanding +of the laws of nature. +</p> + +<p> +But I feel now that I have advanced further than I had +intended, or than the subject before me required. But the +admirable arrangement of the Stoic doctrine, and the incredible +beauty of the system, drew me on. And, in the name of +the immortal gods! can you forbear to admire it? For what +is there in all nature—though nothing is better or more +accurately adapted to its ends than that—or what can be found +in any work made by the hand, so well arranged, and united, +and put together? What is there which is posterior, which +does not agree with what has preceded it? What is there +<pb n='208'/><anchor id='Pg208'/> +which follows, and does not correspond to what has gone +before? What is there which is not connected with something +else in such a manner, that if you only move one letter +the whole will fall to pieces? Nor, indeed, is there anything +which can be moved. +</p> + +<p> +But what a grand and magnificent and consistent character +is that of the wise man which is drawn by them! For he, +after reason has taught him that that which is honourable is +alone good, must inevitably be always happy, and must have +a genuine right to those names which are often ridiculed by +the ignorant. For he will be more properly called king than +Tarquin, who was able to govern neither himself nor his +family; he will deserve to be called the master of the people +more than Sylla, who was only the master of three pestiferous +vices, luxury, avarice, and cruelty; he will be called rich +more properly than Crassus, who would never have desired +to cross the Euphrates without any legitimate cause for war, +if he had not been in want of something. Everything will be +properly said to belong to that man, who alone knows how to +make use of everything. He will also rightly be called beautiful, +for the features of the mind are more beautiful than +those of the body: he will deservedly be called the only free +man, who is neither subject to the domination of any one, nor +subservient to his own passions. He will fairly be called invincible, +on whose mind, even though his body be bound with +chains, no fetters can ever be imposed. Nor will he wait till +the last period of his life, so as to have it decided whether he +has been happy or not, after he has come to the last day of +life and closed his eyes in death, in the spirit of the warning +which one of the wise men gave to Crœsus, without showing +much wisdom in so doing. For if he had ever been happy, +then he would have borne his happy life with him, even as +far as the funeral pile built for him by Cyrus. +</p> + +<p> +But if it be true that no one except a good man is happy, +and that all good men are happy, then what deserves to be +cultivated more than philosophy, or what is more divine than +virtue? +</p> + +</div> + +<pb n='209'/><anchor id='Pg209'/> + +<div> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>Fourth Book Of The Treatise On The +Chief Good And Evil.</head> + +<p> +I. And when he had made an end of saying these things, +I replied, Truly, O Cato, you have displayed a wonderful +memory in explaining to us such a number of things, and in +laying such obscure things so clearly before us. So that we +must either give up having any meaning or wish contrary to +what you have said, or else we must take time to deliberate: +for it is not easy to learn thoroughly the principles of a school +which has not only had its foundation laid, but which has +even been built up with such diligence, although perhaps with +some errors as to its truth, (which, however, I will not as yet +dare to affirm,) but at all events with such care and accuracy. +Then, said he, is that what you say, when I have seen you, in +obedience to this new law, reply to the prosecutor on the +same day on which he has brought forward his charge, and +sum up for three hours; and then do you think that I am +going to allow an adjournment in this cause? which, however, +will not be conducted by you better than those which +are at times entrusted to you. Wherefore, I desire that you +will now apply yourself to this one, especially as it has been +handled by others, and also by yourself several times; so +that you cannot be at a loss for arguments or language. +</p> + +<p> +I replied, I do not, in truth, venture to argue inconsiderately +against the Stoics, not because I agree with them in any +great degree, but I am hindered by shame; because they say +so much that I hardly understand. I confess, said he, that +some of our arguments are obscure; not that we make them +so on purpose, but because there is some obscurity in the +subjects themselves. Why, then, said I, when the Peripatetics +discuss the same subjects, does not a single word occur which +is not well understood? Do they discuss the same subjects? +said he; or have I failed to prove to you that the Stoics differ +from the Peripatetics, not in words only, but in the whole of +the subject, and in every one of their opinions? But, said +<pb n='210'/><anchor id='Pg210'/> +I, if, O Cato, you can establish that, I will allow you to carry +me over, body and soul, to your school. I did think, said he, +that I had said enough on that point; wherefore answer me +on that head first, if you please; and afterwards you can advance +what arguments you please. I do not think it too +much, said I, if I claim to answer you on that topic as I +myself please. As you will, said he; for although the other +way would have been more common, yet it is only fair to +allow every one to adopt his own method. +</p> + +<p> +II. I think, then, said I, O Cato, that those ancient pupils +of Plato, Speusippus, Aristotle and Xenocrates, and afterwards +their pupils, Polemo and Theophrastus, had a system laid +down with sufficient richness and eloquence of language; so +that Zeno had no reason, after having been a pupil of Polemo, +for deserting him and his predecessors who had established +this school. And in this school I should like you to observe +what you think ought to be changed, and not to wait while I +am replying to everything which has been said by you. For +I think that I must contend with the whole of their system, +against the whole of yours. +</p> + +<p> +And as these men said that we are born with the view of +being generally well adapted to those virtues which are well +known and conspicuous, I mean justice and temperance, and +others of the same kind, all which resemble the other arts, +and differ only for the better in their subject matter and way +of handling;—and as they saw that we desired those very +virtues in a somewhat magnificent and ardent spirit; and +that we had also a certain instruction, or, I should rather say, +innate desire of knowledge; and that we were born for companionship +with men, and for society and communion with +the human race, and that these qualities are most conspicuous +in the greatest geniuses;—they divided all philosophy into +three parts; and we see that this same division was retained +by Zeno: and as one of these parts is that by which the +manners are thought to be formed, I postpone the consideration +of that part, which is, as it were, the foundation of this +question. For what is the chief good I will discuss presently; +but at this moment I only say that that topic which I think +we shall be right in calling the civil one, and which the +Greeks call πολιτικὸς, has been treated of in a dignified and +copious manner by the ancient Peripatetics and Academicians +<pb n='211'/><anchor id='Pg211'/> +who, agreeing in parts, differed from one another only in +words. +</p> + +<p> +III. How many books have these men written on the republic! +how many on laws! How many precepts in art, +and, more than that, how many instances of good speaking +in orations have they bequeathed to us! For, in the first +place, they said with the greatest degree of polish and fitness +those very things which were to be argued in a subtle +manner, laying down both definitions and divisions: as your +friends have also done: but you have done it in a more +shabby manner; while you see how brilliant their language +is. In the second place, with what splendid language have +they adorned that part of the subject which required ornate +and impressive eloquence! how gloriously have they illustrated +it! discussing justice, and fortitude, and friendship, +and the method of passing life, and philosophy, and the +government of the state, and temperance, not like men picking +out thorns, like the Stoics, or laying bare the bones, but +like men who knew how to handle great subjects elegantly, +and lesser ones clearly. What, therefore, are their consolations? +What are their exhortations? What also are their +warnings and advice written to the most eminent men? For +their practice in speaking was, like the nature of the things +themselves, of a two-fold character. For whatever is made a +question of, contains a controversy either as to the genus +itself, without reference to persons or times; or else, with +these additions, a dispute as to the fact, or the right, or the +name. And therefore, they exercised themselves in both +kinds; and that discipline it was which produced that great +copiousness of eloquence among them in both kinds of argumentation. +Now Zeno, and those who imitated him, were +either unable to do much in this kind of argument, or else +were unwilling, or at all events they did not do it. Although +Cleanthes wrote a treatise on the art of rhetoric, and so too +did Chrysippus, but still in such a manner, that if any one +were to wish to be silent, he ought to read nothing else. +Therefore you see how they speak. They invent new words—they +abandon old established terms. +</p> + +<p> +But what great attempts do they make? They say that +this universal world is our town; accordingly, this excites +those who hear such a statement. You see, now, how great +<pb n='212'/><anchor id='Pg212'/> +a business you are undertaking; to make a man who lives at +Circeii believe that this universal world is merely a town for +himself to live in. What will be the end of this? Shall he +set fire to it? He will rather extinguish it, if he has received +it on fire. The next thing said is that list of titles which you +briefly enumerated,—king, dictator, rich man, the only wise +man; words poured out by you decorously and roundly: they +well might be, for you have learnt them from the orators. +But how vague and unsubstantial are those speeches about +the power of virtue! which they make out to be so great +that it can, by itself, secure the happiness of man. They +prick us with narrow little bits of questions as with pins; +and those who assent to them are not at all changed in their +minds, and go away the same as they came: for matters +which are perhaps true, and which certainly are important, +are not handled as they ought to be, but in a more minute +and petty manner. +</p> + +<p> +IV. The next thing is the principle of arguing, and the +knowledge of nature. For we will examine the chief good +presently, as I said before, and apply the whole discussion to +the explanation of it. There was, then, in those two parts +nothing which Zeno wished to alter. For the whole thing, in +both its divisions, is in an excellent state; for what has been +omitted by the ancients in that kind of argument which is of +influence in discussion? For they have both given many +definitions, and have bequeathed to us titles for defining; +and that important addition to definition, I mean the dividing +of the subject into parts, is both done by them, and they +have also left us rules to enable us to do so too; and I may +say the same of contraries; from which they came to genera, +and to the forms of genera. Now, they make those things +which they call evident, the beginning of an argument concluded +by reason: then they follow an orderly arrangement; +and the conclusion at last shows what is true in the separate +propositions. But what a great variety of arguments, which +lead to conclusions according to reason, do they give us, and +how dissimilar are they to captious questions! What shall +we say of their denouncing, as it were, in many places, that +we ought neither entirely to trust our senses when unsupported +by reason, nor reason when unsupported by our senses; +but that, at the same time, we ought to keep the line between +<pb n='213'/><anchor id='Pg213'/> +the two clearly marked? What shall I say more? Were not +all the precepts which the dialecticians now deliver and teach, +originally discovered and established by them? And although +they were very much elaborated by Chrysippus, still they +were much less practised by Zeno than by the ancients. And +there were several things in which he did not improve on the +ancients; and some which he never touched at all. And as +there are two arts by which reason and oratory are brought +to complete perfection, one that of discovering, the other that +of arguing,—both the Stoics and Peripatetics have handed us +down this latter, but the Peripatetics alone have given us rules +for the former, while the Stoics have altogether avoided it. +For the men of your school never even suspected the places +from which arguments might be drawn as out of magazines; +but the Peripatetics taught a regular system and method. +</p> + +<p> +And the consequence is, that it is not necessary for one +now to be always repeating a sort of dictated lesson on the +same subject, or to be afraid to go beyond one's note-books: +for he who knows where everything is placed, and how he +can arrive at it, even if anything be completely buried, will +be able to dig it up, and will always have his wits about him +in every discussion. And although men who are endowed +with great abilities, attain to a certain copiousness of eloquence +without any definite principles of oratory, still art is a surer +guide than nature. For it is one thing to pour out words +after the fashion of poets, and another to distinguish on +settled principles and rules all that you say. +</p> + +<p> +V. Similar things may be said about the explanation of +natural philosophy, which both the Peripatetics and Stoics +apply themselves to; and that not on two accounts only, as +Epicurus thinks, namely, to get rid of the fears of death and +of religion; but besides this, the knowledge of heavenly +things imparts some degree of modesty to those who see what +great moderation and what admirable order there is likewise +among the gods: it inspires them also with magnanimity +when they contemplate the arts and works of the gods; and +justice, too, when they come to know how great is the power +and wisdom, and what the will is also, of the supreme ruler +and master of the world, whose reason, in accordance with +nature, is called by philosophers the true and supreme law. +There is in the same study of nature, an insatiable kind of +<pb n='214'/><anchor id='Pg214'/> +pleasure derived from the knowledge of things; the only pleasure +in which, when all our necessary actions are performed, +and when we are free from business, we can live honourably, +and as becomes free men. Therefore, in the whole of this +ratiocination on subjects of the very highest importance, the +Stoics have for the most part followed the Peripatetics; so +far at all events as to admit that there are gods, and to +assert that everything consists of one of four elements. But +when an exceedingly difficult question was proposed, namely, +whether there did not seem to be a sort of fifth nature from +which reason and intelligence sprang; (in which question +another was involved respecting the mind, as to what class +that belonged to;) Zeno said that it was fire; and then he +said a few more things—very few, in a novel manner; but +concerning the most important point of all, he spoke in the +same way, asserting that the universal world, and all its most +important parts, were regulated by the divine intellect and +nature of the gods. But as for the matter and richness of +facts, we shall find the Stoics very poorly off, but the Peripatetics +very rich. +</p> + +<p> +What numbers of facts have been investigated and accumulated +by them with respect to the genus, and birth, and +limbs, and age of all kinds of animals! and in like manner +with respect to those things which are produced out of the +earth! How many causes have they developed, and in what +numerous cases, why everything is done, and what numerous +demonstrations have they laid open how everything is done! +And from this copiousness of theirs most abundant and undeniable +arguments are derived for the explanation of the nature +of everything. Therefore, as far as I understand, there is no +necessity at all for any change of name. For it does not +follow that, though he may have differed from the Peripatetics +in some points, he did not arise out of them. And I, indeed, +consider Epicurus, as far as his natural philosophy is concerned, +as only another Democritus: he alters very few of his +doctrines; and I should think him so even if he had changed +more: but in numerous instances, and certainly on all the +most important points, he coincides with him exactly. And +though the men of your school do this, they do not show +sufficient gratitude to the original discoverers. +</p> + +<p> +VI. But enough of this. Let us now, I beg, consider the +<pb n='215'/><anchor id='Pg215'/> +chief good, which contains all philosophy, and see whether +Zeno has brought forward any reason for dissenting from the +original discoverers and parents of it, as I may call them. +While speaking, then, on this topic—although, Cato, this summit +of goods, which contains all philosophy, has been carefully +explained by you, and though you have told us what is +considered so by the Stoics, and in what sense it is called so—yet +I also will give my explanation, in order that we may see +clearly, if we can, what new doctrine has been introduced into +the question by Zeno. For as preceding philosophers, and +Polemo most explicitly of all, had said that the chief good was +to live according to nature, the Stoics say that three things +are signified by these words: one, that a man should live exercising +a knowledge of those things which happen by nature; +and they say that this is the chief good of Zeno, who declares, +as has been said by you, that it consists in living in a manner +suitable to nature: the second meaning is much the same as +if it were said that a man ought to live attending to all, or +nearly all, the natural and intermediate duties. But this, +when explained in this manner, is different from the former. +For the former is right, which you called κατόρθωμα, and it +happens to the wise man alone; but this is only a duty which +is begun and not perfected, and this may happen to some +who are far from being wise: the third is that a man should +live, enjoying all things, or at least all the most important +things which are according to nature; but this does not +always depend on ourselves, for it is perfected both out of +that kind of life which is bounded by virtue, and out of those +things which are according to nature, and which are not in +our own power. +</p> + +<p> +But this chief good, which is understood in the third signification +of the definition, and that life which is passed in conformity +with that good, can happen to the wise man alone, +because virtue is connected with it. And that summit of +good, as we see it expressed by the Stoics themselves, was +laid down by Xenocrates and by Aristotle; and so that first +arrangement of the principles of nature, with which you also +began, is explained by them in almost these very words. +</p> + +<p> +VII. All nature desires to be a preserver of itself, in order +that it may be both safe itself, and that it may be preserved in +its kind. They say that for this end arts have been invented +<pb n='216'/><anchor id='Pg216'/> +to assist nature, among which that is accounted one of the +most important which is the art of living so as to defend +what has been given by nature, and to acquire what is wanting; +and, at the same time, they have divided the nature of +man into mind and body. And, as they said that each of +these things was desirable for its own sake, so also they said +that the virtues of each of them were desirable for their own +sake. But when they extolled the mind with boundless +praises, and preferred it to the body, they at the same time +preferred the virtues of the mind to the goods of the body. +</p> + +<p> +But, as they asserted that wisdom was the guardian and +regulator of the entire man, being the companion and assistant +of nature, they said that the especial office of wisdom was +to defend the being who consisted of mind and body,—to +assist him and support him in each particular. And so, the +matter being first laid down simply, pursuing the rest of the +argument with more subtlety, they thought that the goods of +the body admitted of an easy explanation, but they inquired +more accurately into those of the mind. And, first of all, +they found out that they contained the seeds of justice; and +they were the first of all philosophers to teach that the principle +that those which were the offspring should be beloved +by their parents, was implanted in all animals by nature; and +they said, also, that that which precedes the birth of offspring, +in point of time,—namely, the marriage of men and women,—was +a bond of union suggested by nature, and that this was +the root from which the friendships between relations sprang. +And, beginning with these first principles, they proceeded to +investigate the origin and progress of all the virtues; by +which course a great magnanimity was engendered, enabling +them easily to resist and withstand fortune, because the most +important events were in the power of the wise man; and a +life conducted according to the precepts of the ancient philosophers +was easily superior to all the changes and injuries of +fortune. +</p> + +<p> +But when these foundations had been laid by nature, certain +great increases of good were produced,—some arising +from the contemplation of more secret things, because there +is a love of knowledge innate in the mind, in which also the +fondness for explaining principles and for discussing them +originates; and because man is the only animal which has +<pb n='217'/><anchor id='Pg217'/> +any share of shame or modesty; and because he also covets +union and society with other men, and takes pains in everything +which he does or says, that he may do nothing which is +not honourable and becoming;—these foundations being, as +I have said, implanted in us by nature like so many seeds, +temperance, and modesty, and justice, and all virtue, was +brought to complete perfection. +</p> + +<p> +VIII. You here, O Cato, have a sketch of the philosophers +of whom I am speaking; and, now that I have given you this, +I wish to know what reason there is why Zeno departed from +their established system; and which of all their doctrines it +was that he disapproved of? Did he object to their calling +all nature a preserver of itself?—or to their saying that every +animal was naturally fond of itself, so as to wish to be safe +and uninjured in its kind?—or, as the end of all arts is to +arrive at what nature especially requires, did he think that +the same principle ought to be laid down with respect to the +art of the entire life?—or, since we consist of mind and body, +did he think that these and their excellences ought to be +chosen for their own sakes?—or was he displeased with the +preeminence which is attributed by the Peripatetics to the +virtue of the mind?—or did he object to what they said about +prudence, and the knowledge of things, and the union of the +human race, and temperance, and modesty, and magnanimity, +and honourableness in general? The Stoics must confess that +all these things were excellently explained by the others, and +that they gave no reason to Zeno for deserting their school. +They must allege some other excuse. +</p> + +<p> +I suppose they will say that the errors of the ancients were +very great, and that he, being desirous of investigating the +truth, could by no means endure them. For what can be +more perverse—what can be more intolerable, or more stupid, +than to place good health, and freedom from all pain, and +soundness of the eyes and the rest of the senses, among the +goods, instead of saying that there is no difference at all +between them and their contraries? For that all those things +which the Peripatetics called goods, were only things preferable, +not good. And also that the ancients had been very +foolish when they said that these excellences of the body +were desirable for their own sake: they were to be accepted, +but not to be desired. And the same might be said of all the +<pb n='218'/><anchor id='Pg218'/> +other circumstances of life, which consists of nothing but +virtue alone,—that that life which is rich also in the other +things which are according to nature is not more to be desired +on that account, but only more to be accepted; and, though +virtue itself makes life so happy that a man cannot be happier, +still something is wanting to wise men, even when they +are most completely happy; and that they labour to repel +pain, disease, and debility. +</p> + +<p> +IX. Oh, what a splendid force is there in such genius, and +what an excellent reason is this for setting up a new school! +Go on; for it will follow,—and, indeed, you have most learnedly +adopted the principle,—that all folly, and all injustice, +and all other vices are alike, and that all errors are equal; +and that those who have made great progress, through natural +philosophy and learning, towards virtue, if they have not +arrived at absolute perfection in it, are completely miserable, +and that there is no difference between their life and that of +the most worthless of men,—as Plato, that greatest of men, +if he was not thoroughly wise, lived no better, and in no +respect more happily, than the most worthless of men. This +is, forsooth, the Stoic correction and improvement of the old +philosophy; but it can never find any entrance into the city, +or the forum, or the senate-house. For who could endure to +hear a man, who professed to be a teacher of how to pass life +with dignity and wisdom, speaking in such a manner—altering +the names of things; and though he was in reality of the +same opinion as every one else, still giving new names to the +things to which he attributed just the same force that others +did, without proposing the least alteration in the ideas to be +entertained of them? Would the advocate of a cause, when +summing up for a defendant, deny that exile or the confiscation +of his client's property was an evil?—that these things +were to be rejected, though not to be fled from?—or would +he say that a judge ought not to be merciful? +</p> + +<p> +But if he were speaking in the public assembly,—if Hannibal +had arrived at the gates and had driven his javelin into +the wall, would he deny that it was an evil to be taken prisoner, +to be sold, to be slain, to lose one's country? Or could +the senate, when it was voting a triumph to Africanus, have +expressed itself,—Because by his virtue and good fortune ... +if there could not properly be said to be any virtue or any +<pb n='219'/><anchor id='Pg219'/> +good fortune except in a wise man? What sort of a philosophy, +then, is that which speaks in the ordinary manner in the +forum, but in a peculiar style of its own in books? especially +when, as they intimate themselves in all they say, no innovations +are made by them in the facts,—none of the things +themselves are changed, but they remain exactly the same, +though in another manner. For what difference does it make +whether you call riches, and power, and health goods, or only +things preferred, as long as the man who calls them goods +attributes no more to them than you do who call them things +preferred? Therefore, Panætius—a noble and dignified man, +worthy of the intimacy which he enjoyed with Scipio and +Lælius—when he was writing to Quintus Tubero on the subject +of bearing pain, never once asserted, what ought to have been +his main argument, if it could have been proved, that pain +was not an evil; but he explained what it was, and what its +character was, and what amount of disagreeableness there +was in it, and what was the proper method of enduring it; +and (for he, too, was a Stoic) all that preposterous language +of the school appears to me to be condemned by these sentiments +of his. +</p> + +<p> +X. But, however, to come, O Cato, more closely to what +you have been saying, let us treat this question more narrowly, +and compare what you have just said with those assertions +which I prefer to yours. Now, those arguments which +you employ in common with the ancients, we may make use +of as admitted. But let us, if you please, confine our discussion +to those which are disputed. I do please, said he: I +am very glad to have the question argued with more subtlety, +and, as you call it, more closely; for what you have hitherto +advanced are mere popular assertions, but from you I expect +something more elegant. From me? said I. However, I will +try; and, if I cannot find arguments enough, I will not be +above having recourse to those which you call popular. +</p> + +<p> +But let me first lay down this position, that we are so +recommended to ourselves by nature, and that we have this +principal desire implanted in us by nature, that our first wish +is to preserve ourselves. This is agreed. It follows, that we +must take notice what we are, that so we may preserve ourselves +in that character of which we ought to be. We are, +therefore, men: we consist of mind and body,—which are +<pb n='220'/><anchor id='Pg220'/> +things of a particular description,—and we ought, as our first +natural desire requires, to love these parts of ourselves, and +from them to establish this summit of the chief and highest +good, which, if our first principles are true, must be established +in such a way as to acquire as many as possible of +those things which are in accordance with nature, and especially +all the most important of them. This, then, is the chief +good which they aimed at. I have expressed it more diffusely,—they +call it briefly, living according to nature. This +is what appears to them to be the chief good. +</p> + +<p> +XI. Come, now let them teach us, or rather do so yourself, +(for who is better able?) in what way you proceed from these +principles, and prove that to live honourably (for that is the +meaning of living according to virtue, or in a manner suitable +to nature) is the chief good; and in what manner, or in what +place, you on a sudden get rid of the body, and leave all +those things which, as they are according to nature, are out +of our own power; and, lastly, how you get rid of duty +itself. +</p> + +<p> +I ask, therefore, how it is that all these recommendations, +having proceeded from nature, are suddenly abandoned by +wisdom? But if it were not the chief good of man that we +were inquiring into, but only that of some animal, and if he +were nothing except mind (for we may make such a supposition +as that, in order more easily to discover the truth), still +this chief good of yours would not belong to that mind. +For it would wish for good health, for freedom from pain; it +would also desire the preservation of itself, and the guardianship +of these qualities, and it would appoint as its own end to +live according to nature, which is, as I have said, to have +those things which are according to nature, either all of them, +or most of them, and all the most important ones. For +whatever kind of animal you make him out, it is necessary, +even though he be incorporeal, as we are supposing him, +still that there must be in the mind something like those +qualities which exist in the body; so that the chief good +cannot possibly be defined in any other manner but that +which I have mentioned. +</p> + +<p> +But Chrysippus, when explaining the differences between +living creatures, says, that some excel in their bodies, others +in their minds, some in both. And then he argues that +<pb n='221'/><anchor id='Pg221'/> +there ought to be a separate chief good for each description +of creature. But as he had placed man in such a class that +he attributed to him excellence of mind, he determined that +his chief good was not that he appeared to excel in mind, but +that he appeared to be nothing else but mind. +</p> + +<p> +XII. But in one case the chief good might rightly be +placed in virtue alone, if there were any animal which consisted +wholly of mind; and that, too, in such a manner that +that mind had in itself nothing that was according to nature, +as health is. But it cannot even be imagined what kind of +thing that is, so as not to be inconsistent with itself. But if +he says that some things are obscure, and are not visible +because they are very small, we also admit that; as Epicurus +says of pleasure, that those pleasures which are very small +are often obscured and overwhelmed. But that kind has not +so many advantages of body, nor any which last so long, or +are so great. Therefore, in those in which obscuration follows +because of their littleness, it often happens that we confess +that it makes no difference to us whether they exist at all or +not; just as when the sun is out, as you yourself said, it is of +no consequence to add the light of a candle, or to add a +penny to the riches of Crœsus. But in those matters in +which so great an obscuration does not take place, it may +still be the case, that the matter which makes a difference is +of no great consequence. As if, when a man had lived ten +years agreeably, an additional month's life of equal pleasantness +were given to him, it would be good, because any addition +has some power to produce what is agreeable; but if +that is not admitted, it does not follow that a happiness of +life is at once put an end to. +</p> + +<p> +But the goods of the body are more like this instance +which I have just mentioned. For they admit of additions +worthy of having pains taken about them; so that on this +point the Stoics appear to me sometimes to be joking, when +they say that, if a bottle or a comb were given as an addition +to a life which is being passed with virtue, a wise man would +rather choose that life, because these additions were given to +it, but yet that he would not be happier on that account. +Now, is not this simile to be upset by ridicule rather than by +serious discourse? For who would not be deservedly ridiculed, +if he were anxious whether he had another bottle or +<pb n='222'/><anchor id='Pg222'/> +not? But if any one relieves a person from any affection of +the limbs, or from the pain of any disease, he will receive +great gratitude. And if that wise man of yours is put on +the rack of torture by a tyrant, he will not display the same +countenance as if he had lost his bottle; but, as entering upon +a serious and difficult contest, seeing that he will have to +fight with a capital enemy, namely, pain, he will summon +up all his principles of fortitude and patience, by whose +assistance he will proceed to face that difficult and important +battle, as I have called it. +</p> + +<p> +We will not inquire, then, what is obscured, or what is +destroyed, because it is something very small; but what is of +such a character as to complete the whole sum of happiness. +One pleasure out of many may be obscured in that life of +pleasure; but still, however small an one it may be, it is a +part of that life which consists wholly of pleasure. One coin +is lost of the riches of Crœsus, still it is a part of his riches. +Wherefore those things, too, which we say are according to +nature, may be obscured in a happy life, still they must be +parts of the happy life. +</p> + +<p> +XIII. But if, as we ought to agree, there is a certain natural +desire which longs for those things which are according +to nature, then, when taken altogether, they must be considerable +in amount. And if this point is established, then we +may be allowed to inquire about those things at our leisure, +and to investigate the greatness of them, and their excellence, +and to examine what influence each has on living happily, +and also to consider the very obscurations themselves, which, +on account of their smallness, are scarcely ever, or I may say +never, visible. +</p> + +<p> +What should I say about that as to which there is no +dispute? For there is no one who denies that that which is +the standard to which everything is referred resembles every +nature, and that is the chief thing which is to be desired. +For every nature is attached to itself. For what nature is +there which ever deserts itself, or any portion of itself, or +any one of its parts or faculties, or, in short, any one of those +things, or motions, or states which are in accordance with +nature? And what nature has ever been forgetful of its +original purpose and establishment? There has never been +one which does not observe this law from first to last. How, +<pb n='223'/><anchor id='Pg223'/> +then, does it happen that the nature of man is the only one +which ever abandons man, which forgets the body, which +places the chief good, not in the whole man, but in a part of +man? And how, as they themselves admit, and as is agreed +upon by all, will it be preserved, so that that ultimate good +of nature, which is the subject of our inquiry, shall resemble +every nature? For it would resemble them, if in other +natures also there were some ultimate point of excellence. +For then that would seem to be the chief good of the Stoics. +Why, then, do you hesitate to alter the principles of nature? +For why do you say that every animal, the moment that it +is born, is prone to feel love for itself, and is occupied in its +own preservation? Why do you not rather say that every +animal is inclined to that which is most excellent in itself, +and is occupied in the guardianship of that one thing, and +that the other natures do nothing else but preserve that +quality which is the best in each of them? But how can it +be the best, if there is nothing at all good besides? But if +the other things are to be desired, why, then, is not that +which is the chief of all desirable things inferred from the +desire of all those things, or of the most numerous and important +of them? as Phidias can either begin a statue from +the beginning, and finish it, or he can take one which has +been begun by another, and complete that. +</p> + +<p> +Now wisdom is like this: for wisdom is not herself the +parent of man, but she has received him after he has been +commenced by nature. And without regard to her, she +ought to complete that work of her's, as an artist would +complete a statue. What kind of man, then, is it that nature +has commenced? and what is the office and task of wisdom? +What is it that ought to be finished and completed by her? +If there is nothing to be made further in man, except some +kind of motion of the mind, that is to say, reason, then it +follows, that the ultimate object is to mould the life according +to virtue. For the perfection of reason is virtue. If there +is nothing but body, then the chief goods must be good +health, freedom from pain, beauty, and so on. The question +at this moment is about the chief good of man. +</p> + +<p> +XIV. Why do we hesitate, then, to inquire as to his whole +nature, what has been done? For as it is agreed by all, that +the whole duty and office of wisdom is to be occupied about +<pb n='224'/><anchor id='Pg224'/> +the cultivation of man, some (that you may not think that +I am arguing against none but the Stoics) bring forward +opinions in which they place the chief good among things of +a kind which are wholly out of our own power, just as if +they were speaking of one of the brute beasts; others, on +the contrary, as if man had no body at all, so entirely +exclude everything from their consideration except the mind, +(and this, too, while the mind itself, in their philosophy, is +not some unintelligible kind of vacuum, but something which +exists in some particular species of body,) that even that is +not content with virtue alone, but requires freedom from +pain. So that both these classes do the same thing, as if +they neglected the left side of a man, and took care only of +the right; or as if they (as Herillus did) attended only to +the knowledge of the mind itself, and passed over all action. +For it is but a crippled system which all those men set up +who pass over many things, and select some one in particular +to adhere to. But that is a perfect and full system which +those adopt who, while inquiring about the chief good of +man, pass over in their inquiry no part either of his mind or +body, so as to leave it unprotected. But your school, O Cato, +because virtue holds, as we all admit, the highest and most +excellent place in man, and because we think those who are +wise men, perfect and admirable men, seeks entirely to dazzle +the eyes of our minds with the splendour of virtue. For in +every living creature there is some one principal and most +excellent thing, as, for instance, in horses and dogs; but +those must be free from pain and in good health. Therefore, +you do not seem to me to pay sufficient attention to what the +general path and progress of nature is. For it does not +pursue the same course in man that it does in corn, (which, +when it has advanced it from the blade to the ear, it leaves +and considers the stubble as nothing,) and leave him as soon +as it has conducted him to a state of reason. For it is +always taking something additional, without ever abandoning +what it has previously given. Therefore, it has added reason +to the senses; and when it has perfected his reason, it still +does not abandon the senses. +</p> + +<p> +As if the culture of the vine, the object of which is +to cause the vine, with all its parts, to be in the best possible +condition, (however that is what we understand it to be, for +<pb n='225'/><anchor id='Pg225'/> +one may, as you often do yourselves, suppose anything for +the purpose of illustration,) if, then, that culture of the vine +be in the vine itself, it would, I presume, desire everything +else which concerns the cultivation of the vine, to be as it has +been before. But it would prefer itself to every separate +part of the vine, and it would feel sure that nothing in the +vine was better than itself. In like manner sense, when it +has been added to nature, protects it indeed, but it also +protects itself. But when reason is also added, then it is +placed in a position of such predominant power, that all +those first principles of nature are put under its guardianship. +Therefore it does not abandon the care of those things +over which it is so set, that its duty is to regulate the entire +life: so that we cannot sufficiently marvel at their inconsistency. +For they assert that the natural appetite, which they +call ὁρμὴ, and also duty, and even virtue herself, are all protectors +of those things which are according to nature. But +when they wish to arrive at the chief good, they overleap +everything, and leave us two tasks instead of one—namely, +to choose some things and desire others, instead of including +both under one head. +</p> + +<p> +XV. But now you say that virtue cannot properly be established, +if those things which are external to virtue have +any influence on living happily. But the exact contrary is +the case. For virtue cannot possibly be introduced, unless +everything which it chooses and which it neglects is all +referred to one general end. For if we entirely neglect +ourselves, we then fall into the vices and errors of Ariston, +and shall forget the principles which we have attributed +to virtue itself. But if we do not neglect those things, and +yet do not refer them to the chief good, we shall not be very +far removed from the trivialities of Herillus. For we shall +have to adopt two different plans of conduct in life: for he +makes out that there are two chief goods unconnected with +each other; but if they were real goods, they ought to be +united; but at present they are separated, so that they never +can be united. But nothing can be more perverse than this. +Therefore, the fact is exactly contrary to your assertion: for +virtue cannot possibly be established firmly, unless it maintains +those things which are the principles of nature as +having an influence on the object. For we have been looking +<pb n='226'/><anchor id='Pg226'/> +for a virtue which should preserve nature, not for one which +should abandon it. But that of yours, as you represent it, +preserves only one part, and abandons the rest. +</p> + +<p> +And, indeed, if the custom of man could speak, this would +be its language. That its first beginnings were, as it were, +beginnings of desire that it might preserve itself in that +nature in which it had been born. For it had not yet been +sufficiently explained what nature desired above all things. +Let it therefore be explained. What else then will be understood +but that no part of nature is to be neglected? And if +there is nothing in it besides reason, then the chief good must +be in virtue alone. But if there is also body, then will that +explanation of nature have caused us to abandon the belief +which we held before the explanation. Is it, then, being in +a manner suitable to nature to abandon nature? As some +philosophers do, when having begun with the senses they +have seen something more important and divine, and then +abandoned the senses; so, too, these men, when they had +beheld the beauty of virtue developed in its desire for particular +things, abandoned everything which they had seen +for the sake of virtue herself, forgetting that the whole nature +of desirable things was so extensive that it remained from +beginning to end; and they do not understand that they are +taking away the very foundations of these beautiful and +admirable things. +</p> + +<p> +XVI. Therefore, all those men appear to me to have made +a blunder who have pronounced the chief good to be to live +honourably. But some have erred more than others,—Pyrrho +above all, who, having fixed on virtue as the chief +good, refuses to allow that there is anything else in the world +deserving of being desired; and, next to him, Aristo, who +did not, indeed, venture to leave nothing else to be desired, +but who introduced influence, by which a wise man might +be excited, and desire whatever occurred to his mind, and +whatever even appeared so to occur. He was more right than +Pyrrho, inasmuch as he left man some kind of desire; but +worse than the rest, inasmuch as he departed wholly from +nature: but the Stoics, because they place the chief good in +virtue alone, resemble these men: but inasmuch as they +seek for a principle of duty, they are superior to Pyrrho; and +as they do not admit the desire of those objects which offer +<pb n='227'/><anchor id='Pg227'/> +themselves to the imagination, they are more correct than +Aristo; but, inasmuch as they do not add the things which +they admit to be adopted by nature, and to be worthy of +being chosen for their own sakes, to the chief good, they here +desert nature, and are in some degree not different from +Aristo: for he invented some strange kinds of occurrences; +but these men recognise, indeed, the principles of nature, but +still they disconnect them from the perfect and chief good; +and when they put them forward, so that there may be some +selection of things, they appear to follow nature; but when +they deny that they have any influence in making life happy, +they again abandon nature. +</p> + +<p> +And hitherto I have been showing how destitute Zeno was +of any good reason for abandoning the authority of previous +philosophers: now let us consider the rest of his arguments; +unless, indeed, O Cato, you wish to make any reply to what +I have been saying, or unless we are getting tedious. Neither, +said he; for I wish this side of the question to be completely +argued by you; nor does your discourse seem to me +to be at all tedious. I am glad to hear it, I replied; for +what can be more desirable for me than to discuss the subject +of virtue with Cato, who is the most virtuous of men in +every point? But, first of all, remark that that imposing +sentiment of yours, which brings a whole family after it, +namely, that what is honourable is the only good, and that +to live honourably is the chief good, will be shared in common +with you by all who define the chief good as consisting in +virtue alone; and, as to what you say, that virtue cannot be +formed if anything except what is honourable is included in +the account, the same statement will be made by those whom +I have just named. But it appeared to me to be fairer, +advancing from one common beginning, to see where Zeno, +while disputing with Polemo, from whom he had learnt +what the principles of nature were, first took his stand, and +what the original cause of the controversy was; and not to +stand on their side, who did not even allow that their own +chief good was derived from nature, and to employ the +same arguments which they did, and to maintain the same +sentiments. +</p> + +<p> +XVII. But I am very far from approving this conduct of +yours, that when you have proved, as you imagine, that that +<pb n='228'/><anchor id='Pg228'/> +alone is good which is honourable, then say again that it is +necessary that beginnings should be put forward which are +suitable and adapted to nature; by a selection from which +virtue might be called into existence. For virtue ought not +to have been stated to consist in selection, so that that very +thing which was itself the chief good, was to acquire something +besides itself; for all things which are to be taken, or chosen, +or desired, ought to exist in the chief good, so that he who +has attained that may want nothing more. Do you not see +how evident it is to those men whose chief good consists in +pleasure, what they ought to do and what they ought not? +so that no one of them doubts what all their duties ought to +regard, what they ought to pursue, or avoid. Let this, then, +be the chief good which is now defended by me; it will be +evident in a moment what are the necessary duties and +actions. But you, who set before yourselves another end +except what is right and honourable, will not be able to find +out where your principle of duty and action is to originate. +</p> + +<p> +Therefore you are all of you seeking for this, and so are +those who say that they pursue whatever comes into their +mind and occurs to them; and you return to nature. But +nature will fairly reply to you, that it is not true that the +chief happiness of life is to be sought in another quarter, but +the principles of action in herself: for that there is one +system only, in which both the principles of action and the +chief good too is contained; and that, as the opinion of Aristo +is exploded, when he says that one thing does not differ from +another, and that there is nothing except virtue and vice in +which there was any difference whatever; so, too, Zeno was +in the wrong, who affirmed that there was no influence in +anything, except virtue or vice, of the very least power to +assist in the attainment of the chief good: and as that had +no influence on making life happy, but only in creating a +desire for things, he said that there was some power of attraction +in them: just as if this desire had no reference to the +acquisition of the chief good. But what can be less consistent +than what they say, namely, that when they have +obtained the knowledge of the chief good they then return +to nature, in order to seek in it the principle of action, that +is to say, of duty? For it is not the principle of action or +duty which impels them to desire those things which are +<pb n='229'/><anchor id='Pg229'/> +according to nature; but desire and action are both set in +motion by those things. +</p> + +<p> +XVIII. Now I come to those brief statements of yours +which you call conclusions; and first of all to that—than +which, certainly, nothing can be more brief—that "everything +good is praiseworthy; but everything praiseworthy is +honourable; therefore everything good is honourable." Oh, +what a leaden dagger!—for who will grant you your first +premises? And if it should be granted to you, then you have +no need of the second: for if everything good is praiseworthy, +so is everything honourable; who, then, will grant you this, +except Pyrrho, Aristo, and men like them?—whom you do +not approve of. Aristotle, Xenocrates, and all that school, +will not grant it; inasmuch as they call health, strength, +riches, glory, and many other things good, but not praiseworthy; +and they therefore do not think that the chief good +is contained in virtue alone, though still they do prefer virtue +to everything else. What do you think that those men will +do who have utterly separated virtue from the chief good, +Epicurus, Hieronymus, and those too, if indeed there are +any such, who wish to defend the definition of the chief good +given by Carneades? And how will Callipho and Diodorus +be able to grant you what you ask, men who join to honourableness +something else which is not of the same genus?—Do +you, then, think it proper, Cato, after you have assumed +premises which no one will grant to you, to derive whatever +conclusion you please from them? Take this sorites, than +which you think nothing can be more faulty: <q>That which is +good is desirable; that which is desirable ought to be sought +for; that which ought to be sought for is praiseworthy,</q> and +so on through all the steps. But I will stop here, for in the +same manner no one will grant to you that whatever ought +to be sought is therefore praiseworthy; and that other argument +of theirs is far from a legitimate conclusion, but a most +stupid assertion, <q>that a happy life is one worthy of being +boasted of.</q> For it can never happen that a person may +reasonably boast, without something honourable in the circumstances. +Polemo will grant this to Zeno; and so will +his master, and the whole of that school, and all the rest who, +preferring virtue by far to everything else, still add something +besides to it in their definition of the chief good. For, +<pb n='230'/><anchor id='Pg230'/> +if virtue be a thing worthy of being boasted of, as it is, and +if it is so far superior to all other things that it can scarcely +be expressed how much better it is; then a man may, possibly, +be happy if endowed with virtue alone, and destitute of everything +else; and yet he will never grant to you that nothing +whatever is to be classed among goods, except virtue. +</p> + +<p> +But those men whose chief good has no virtue in it, will +perhaps not grant to you that a happy life has anything in it of +which a man can rightly boast, although they also, at times, represent +virtues as subjects for boasting. You see, therefore, that +you are either assuming propositions which are not admitted, +or else such as, even if they are granted, will do you no good. +</p> + +<p> +XIX. In truth, in all these conclusions, I should think this +worthy both of philosophy and of ourselves,—and that, too, +most especially so when we were inquiring into the chief +good,—that our lives, and designs, and wishes should be corrected, +and not our expressions. For who, when he has heard +those brief and acute arguments of yours which, as you say, +give you so much pleasure, can ever have his opinion changed +by them? For when men fix their attention on them, and +wish to hear why pain is not an evil, they tell him that to be +in pain is a bitter, annoying, odious, unnatural condition, and +one difficult to be borne; but, because there is in pain no +fraud, or dishonesty, or malice, or fault, or baseness, therefore +it is not an evil. Now, the man who hears this said, even if +he does not care to laugh, will still depart without being a +bit more courageous as to bearing pain than he was when he +came. But you affirm that no one can be courageous who +thinks pain an evil. Why should he be more courageous if +he thinks it—what you yourself admit it to be—bitter and +scarcely endurable? For timidity is generated by things, and +not by words. And you say, that if one letter is moved, the +whole system of the school will be undermined. Do I seem, +then, to you to be moving a letter, or rather whole pages? +For although the order of things, which is what you so especially +extol, may be preserved among them, and although +everything may be well joined and connected together, (for +that is what you said,) still we ought not to follow them too +far, if arguments, having set out from false principles, are +consistent with themselves, and do not wander from the end +they propose to themselves. +</p> + +<pb n='231'/><anchor id='Pg231'/> + +<p> +Accordingly, in his first establishment of his system, your +master, Zeno, departed from nature; and as he had placed +the chief good on that superiority of disposition which we call +virtue, and had affirmed that there was nothing whatever +good which was not honourable, and that virtue could have +no real existence if in other things there were things of which +one was better or worse than another; having laid down +these premises, he naturally maintained the conclusions. You +say truly; for I cannot deny it. But the conclusions which +follow from his premises are so false that the premises from +which they are deduced cannot be true. For the dialecticians, +you know, teach us that if the conclusions which follow +from any premises are false, the premises from which they +follow cannot be true. And so that conclusion is not only +true, but so evident that even the dialecticians do not think +it necessary that any reasons should be given for it—<q>If that +is the case, this is; but this is not; therefore that is not.</q> +And so, by denying your consequence, your premise is contradicted. +What follows, then?—<q>All who are not wise are +equally miserable; all wise men are perfectly happy: all +actions done rightly are equal to one another; all offences are +equal.</q> But, though all these propositions at first appear to +be admirably laid down, after a little consideration they are +not so much approved of. For every man's own senses, and +the nature of things, and truth itself, cried out, after a fashion, +that they could never be induced to believe that there was +no difference between those things which Zeno asserted to be +equal. +</p> + +<p> +XX. Afterwards that little Phœnician of yours (for you +know that the people of Citium, your clients, came from +Phœnicia), a shrewd man, as he was not succeeding in his +case, since nature herself contradicted him, began to withdraw +his words; and first of all he granted in favour of those +things which we consider good, that they might be considered +fit, and useful, and adapted to nature; and he began to confess +that it was more advantageous for a wise—that is to say +for a perfectly happy—man, to have those things which he +does not venture indeed to call goods, but yet allows to be +well adapted to nature. And he denies that Plato, if he were +not a wise man, would be in the same circumstances as the +tyrant Dionysius; for that to die was better for the one, +<pb n='232'/><anchor id='Pg232'/> +because he despaired of attaining wisdom, but to live was +better for the other, because of his hope of doing so. And he +asserts that of offences some are tolerable, and some by no +means so, because many men passed by some offences, and +there are others which very few people pass by, on account of +the number of duties violated. Again, he said that some men +are so foolish as to be utterly unable ever to arrive at wisdom; +but that there are others who, if they had taken pains, might +have attained to it. Now, in this he expressed himself differently +from any one else, but he thought just the same as all the +rest. Nor did he think those things deserving of being valued +less which he himself denied to be goods, than they did who +considered them as goods. What, then, did he wish to effect +by having altered these names? At least he would have +taken something from their weight, and would have valued +them at rather less than the Peripatetics, in order to appear +to think in some respects differently from them, and not +merely to speak so. +</p> + +<p> +What more need I say? What do you say about the happy +life to which everything is referred? You affirm that it is not +that life which is filled with everything which nature requires; +and you place it entirely in virtue alone. And as every +controversy is usually either about a fact or a name, both +kinds of dispute arise if either the fact is not understood or if +a mistake is made as to the name; and if neither of these is +the case, we must take care to use the most ordinary language +possible, and words as suitable as can be,—that is, such as +make the subject plain. Is it, then, doubtful that if the +former philosophers have not erred at all as to the fact itself, +they certainly express themselves more conveniently? Let +us, then, examine their opinions, and then return to the question +of names. +</p> + +<p> +XXI. They say that the desire of the mind is excited when +anything appears to it to be according to nature; and that all +things which are according to nature are worthy of some +esteem; and that they deserve to be esteemed in proportion +to the weight that there is in each of them: and that of those +things which are according to nature, some have in themselves +nothing of that appetite of which we have already frequently +spoken, being neither called honourable nor praiseworthy; +and some, again, are accompanied by pleasure in the +<pb n='233'/><anchor id='Pg233'/> +case of every animal, and in the case of man also with reason. +And those of them which are suitable are honourable, beautiful, +and praiseworthy; but the others, mentioned before, are +natural, and, when combined with those which are honourable, +make up and complete a perfectly happy life. But they say, +too, that of all these advantages—to which those people do not +attribute more importance who say that they are goods, than +Zeno does, who denies it—by far the most excellent is that +which is honourable and praiseworthy; but that if two +honourable things are both set before one, one accompanied +with good health and the other with sickness, it is not doubtful +to which of them nature herself will conduct us: but, +nevertheless, that the power of honourableness is so great, and +that it is so far better than, and superior to, everything else, +that it can never be moved by any punishments or by any bribes +from that which it has decided to be right; and that everything +which appears hard, difficult, or unfortunate, can be +dissipated by those virtues with which we have been adorned +by nature; not because they are trivial or contemptible—or +else where would be the merit of the virtues?—but that we +might infer from such an event, that it was not in them that +the main question of living happily or unhappily depended. +</p> + +<p> +In short, the things which Zeno has called estimable, and +worth choosing, and suitable to nature, they call goods; but +they call that a happy life which consists of those things +which I have mentioned, or, if not of all, at least of the +greatest number of them, and of the most important. But +Zeno calls that the only good which has some peculiar beauty +of its own to make it desirable; and he calls that life alone +happy which is passed with virtue. +</p> + +<p> +XXII. If we are to discuss the reality of the case, then +there cannot possibly, Cato, be any disagreement between you +and me: for there is nothing on which you and I have different +opinions; let us only compare the real circumstances, +after changing the names. Nor, indeed, did he fail to see +this; but he was delighted with the magnificence and splendour +of the language: and if he really felt what he said, and +what his words intimate, then what would be the difference +between him and Pyrrho or Aristo? But if he did not +approve of them, then what was his object in differing in language +with those men with whom he agreed in reality? +</p> + +<pb n='234'/><anchor id='Pg234'/> + +<p> +What would you do if these Platonic philosophers, and +those, too, who were their pupils, were to come to life again, +and address you thus:—<q>As, O Marcus Cato, we heard that +you were a man exceedingly devoted to philosophy, a most +just citizen, an excellent judge, and a most conscientious witness, +we marvelled what the reason was why you preferred +the Stoics to us; for they, on the subject of good and evil +things, entertain those opinions which Zeno learnt from Polemo; +and use those names which, when they are first heard, +excite wonder, but when they are explained, move only ridicule. +But if you approved those doctrines so much, why did you not +maintain them in their own proper language? If authority had +influence with you, how was it that you preferred some stranger +to all of us and to Plato himself? especially while you were +desirous to be a chief man in the republic, and might have +been accomplished and equipped by us in a way to enable you +to defend it to your own great increase of dignity. For the +means to such an end have been investigated, described, +marked down, and enjoined by us; and we have written +detailed accounts of the government of all republics, and +their descriptions, and constitutions, and changes,—and even +of the laws, and customs, and manners of all states. Moreover, +how much eloquence, which is the greatest ornament to +leading men,—in which, indeed, we have heard that you are +very eminent,—might you have learnt, in addition to that +which is natural to you, from our records!</q> When they had +said this, what answer could you have made to such men? I +would have entreated you, said he, who had dictated their +speech to them, to speak likewise for me, or else rather to +give me a little room to answer them myself, only that +now I prefer listening to you; and yet at another time I +should be likely to reply to them at the same time that I +answer you. +</p> + +<p> +XXIII. But if you were to answer truly, Cato, you would +be forced to say this—That you do not approve of those +men, men of great genius and great authority as they are. +But that you have noticed that the things which, by reason +of their antiquity they have failed to see, have been +thoroughly comprehended by the Stoics, and that these latter +have discussed the same matters with more acuteness, and +have also entertained more dignified and courageous sentiments, +<pb n='235'/><anchor id='Pg235'/> +inasmuch as, in the first place, they deny that good +health is to be desired, though they admit that it may be +chosen; not because to be well is a good, but because it is +not to be utterly disregarded, and yet that it does not appear +to them of more value that it does to those who do not +hesitate to call it a good. And that you could not endure +that those ancients, those bearded men (as we are in the habit +of calling our own ancestors), should believe that the life of +that man who lived honourably, if he had also good health +and a good reputation, and was rich, was more desirable, +better, and more to be sought for, than that of him who was +equally a good man in many respects, like the Alcmæon of +Ennius— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Surrounded by disease, and exile sad,</l> +<l>And cruel want.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Those ancients, then, must have been far from clever, to +think that life more desirable, better, and happier. But the +Stoics think it only to be preferred if one has a choice; not +because this life is happier, but because it is better adapted +to nature; and they think that all who are not wise are +equally miserable. The Stoics, forsooth, thought this; but +it had entirely escaped the perception of those philosophers +who preceded them, for they thought that men stained with +all sorts of parricide and wickedness were not at all more +miserable than those who, though they lived purely and +uprightly, had not yet attained complete wisdom. +</p> + +<p> +And while on this topic, you brought forth those similes +which they are in the habit of employing, which are, in +truth, no similes at all. For who is ignorant that, if many +men should choose to emerge from the deep, those would be +nearer breathing who came close to the surface, but still would +not be actually able to breathe any more than those who are +at the bottom? Therefore, on your principles, it is of no +avail to make progress and advancement in virtue, in order to +be less utterly miserable before you have actually arrived at +it, since it is of no use in the case of men in the water. And +since puppies who are on the point of opening their eyes, are +just as blind as those that are but this moment born; it is +plain also that Plato, as he had not yet seen wisdom, was as +blind in his intellect as Phalaris. +</p> + +<p> +XXIV. These cases are not alike, Cato. For in these +<pb n='236'/><anchor id='Pg236'/> +instances, though you may have made a good deal of progress, +still you are in exactly the same evil from which you wish to +be free, till you have entirely escaped. For a man does not +breathe till he has entirely emerged, and puppies are just as +blind till they have opened their eyes, as if they were never +going to open them. I will give you some instances that +really are like. One man's eyes are bad, another is weak in +his body; these men are both gradually relieved by the daily +application of remedies. The one gets better every day, and +the other sees better. Now these men resemble all those who +study virtue. They are relieved of their vices; they are +relieved of their errors. Unless, perchance, you think that +Tiberius Gracchus, the father, was not happier than his son, +when the one laboured to establish the republic, and the +other to subvert it. And yet he was not a wise man. For +who taught him wisdom? or when? or where? or whence did +he learn it? Still, because he consulted his twin glory and +dignity, he had made great progress in virtue. +</p> + +<p> +But I will compare your grandfather, Drusus, with Caius +Gracchus, who was nearly his contemporary. He healed the +wounds which the other inflicted on the republic. But there +is nothing which makes men so miserable as impiety and +wickedness. Grant that all those who are unwise are +miserable, as, in fact, they are; still he is not equally miserable +who consults the interest of his country with him who +wishes for its destruction. Therefore, those men are already a +great deal relieved from their vices who have made any considerable +advance towards virtue. But the men of your +school admit that advance towards virtue can be made, but yet +assert that no relief from vices takes place in consequence. +</p> + +<p> +But it is worth while to consider on what arguments acute +men rely for proving this point. Those arts, say they, of +which the perfection can be increased, show that the completeness +of their contraries can likewise be increased. But +no addition can be made to the perfection of virtue. Therefore, +also, vices will not be susceptible of any increase, for +they are the contraries of virtues. Shall we say, then, that +things which are doubtful are made plain by things which +are evident, or that things which are evident are obscured by +things that are doubtful? But this is evident, that different +vices are greater in different people. This is doubtful, whether +<pb n='237'/><anchor id='Pg237'/> +any addition can be made to that which you call the chief +good. But you, while what you ought to do is to try and +illustrate what is doubtful by what is evident, endeavour to +get rid of what is evident by what is doubtful. And, therefore, +you will find yourself hampered by the same reasoning +which I used just now. For if it follows that some vices are +not greater than others, because no addition can be made to +that chief good which you describe, since it is quite evident +that the vices of all men are not equal, you must change your +definition of the chief good. For we must inevitably maintain +this rule, that when a consequence is false, the premises +from which the consequence proceeds cannot be true. +</p> + +<p> +XXV. What, then, is the cause of these difficulties? A +vain-glorious parade in defining the chief good. For when it +is positively asserted that what is honourable is the sole good, +all care for one's health, all attention to one's estate, all +regard for the government of the republic, all regularity in +transacting business, all the duties of life, in short, are put +an end to. Even that very honourableness, in which alone +you assert that everything is comprised, must be abandoned. +All which arguments are carefully urged against Ariston by +Chrysippus. And from that embarrassment it is that all +those fallaciously speaking wiles, as Attius calls them, have +arisen. For because wisdom had no ground on which to rest +her foot, when all the duties were taken away, (and duties +were taken away when all power of selection and discrimination +was denied; for what choice, or what discrimination +could there be when all things were so completely equal that +there was no difference whatever between them?) from these +difficulties there arose worse errors than even those of Aristo. +For his arguments were at all events simple; those of your +school are full of craft. +</p> + +<p> +For suppose you were to ask Aristo whether these things, +freedom from pain, riches, and good health, appear to him to +be goods? He would deny it. What next? Suppose you ask +him whether the contraries of these things are bad? He +would deny that equally. Suppose you were to ask Zeno the +same question? He would give you the same answer, word +for word. Suppose further, that we, being full of astonishment, +were to ask them both how it will be possible for us +to live, if we think that it makes not the least difference to +<pb n='238'/><anchor id='Pg238'/> +us whether we are well or sick; whether we are free from pain +or tormented by it; whether we are able or unable to endure +cold and hunger? You will live, says Aristo, magnificently +and excellently, doing whatever seems good to you. You +will never be vexed, you will never desire anything, you will +never fear anything. What will Zeno say? He says that all +these ideas are monstrous, and that it is totally impossible for +any one to live on these principles; but that there is some extravagant, +some immense difference between what is honourable +and what is base; that between other things, indeed, +there is no difference at all. He will also say—(listen to what +follows, and do not laugh, if you can help it)—all those +intermediate things, between which there is no difference, are +nevertheless such that some of them are to be chosen, others +rejected, and others utterly disregarded; that is to say, that +you may wish for some, wish to avoid others, and be totally +indifferent about others. But you said just now, O Zeno, +that there was no difference whatever between these things. +And now I say the same, he replies; and that there is no difference +whatever as respects virtues and vices. Well, I should +like to know who did not know that? +</p> + +<p> +XXVI. However, let us hear a little more. Those things, +says he, which you have mentioned, to be well, to be rich, to +be free from pain, I do not call goods; but I will call them +in Greek προηγμένα (which you may translate by the Latin +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>producta</foreign>, +though I prefer <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>præposita</foreign> +or <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>præcipua</foreign>, for they are +more easily comprehended and more applicable terms). And +again, the contraries, want, sickness, and pain, I do not call +evils, though I have no objection to styling them (if you +wish) things to be rejected. And, therefore, I do not say +that I seek for them first, but that I choose them; not that I +wish for them, but that I accept them. And so, too, I do +not say that I flee from the contraries; but that I, as it were, +keep aloof from them. What says Aristotle and the rest of +the disciples of Plato? Why, that they call everything good +which is according to nature; and that whatever is contrary +to nature they call evil. +</p> + +<p> +Do you not see, then, that your master Zeno agrees with +Aristo in words, but differs from him as to facts; but that he +agrees with Aristotle and those other philosophers as to facts, +but differs from them only in words? Why, then, when we +<pb n='239'/><anchor id='Pg239'/> +are agreed as to facts, do we not prefer speaking in the ordinary +manner? Let him teach me either that I shall be more +prepared to despise money, if I reckon it only among things +preferred, than if I count it among goods; and that I shall +have more fortitude to endure pain if I call it bitter, and difficult +to bear, and contrary to nature, than if I pronounce it an +evil. Marcus Piso, my intimate, also was a very witty man, and +used to ridicule the Stoics for their language on this topic: +for what was he used to say? <q>You deny that riches are a +good, but call them something to be preferred. What good +do you do by that? do you diminish avarice? But if we +mind words, then, in the first place, your expression, to be preferred, +is longer than good.</q> <q>That has nothing to do with +the matter.</q> <q>I dare say it has not, but still it is a more +difficult expression. For I do not know what the word good +is derived from; but the word preferred I suppose means that +it is preferred to other things. That appears to me to be +important.</q> Therefore, he insisted upon it, that more consequence +was attributed to riches by Zeno, who placed them +among things preferred, than by Aristotle, who admitted that +they were a good. Still he did not say that they were a +great good, but rather such an one as was to be despised +and scorned in comparison of what was right and honourable, +and never one to be greatly sought after. And altogether, he +argued in this way, about all those expressions which had +been altered by Zeno, both as to what he denied to be +goods, and as to those things to which he referred the name +of evil; saying that the first received from him a more +joyful title than they did from us; and the latter a more +gloomy one. +</p> + +<p> +XXVII. Piso, then—a most excellent man, and, as you well +know, a great friend of yours—used to argue in this manner. +And now let us make an end of this, after we have just said +a few additional words. For it would take a long time to +reply to all your assertions. +</p> + +<p> +For from the same tricks with words, originate all those +kingdoms, and commands, and riches, and universal dominion +which you say belong to the wise man. You say besides, that +he alone is handsome, he alone is free, he alone is a citizen; +and that everything which is the contrary of all these things +belongs to the foolish man, who is also insane, as you assert +<pb n='240'/><anchor id='Pg240'/> +they call these assertions παράδοξα; we may call them marvellous. +And yet what marvel is there in them when you +come nearer to them? I will just examine the matter with +you, and see what meaning you affix to each word; there shall +be no dispute between us. You say that all offences are equal. +I will not speak to you now, as I spoke on the same subject +when I was defending Lucius Murena, whom you prosecuted; +then I was addressing an unphilosophical audience; something +too was to be directed to the bystanders in court; at +present, we must proceed more precisely. In what way can all +offences be called equal? Because nothing is more honourable +than what is honourable; nothing more base than what +is base. Go on a little further, for there is a great dispute as +to this point; let us examine those arguments, which are +especially your own, why all offences are equal. As, says he, +in many lyres, if not one of them is so well in tune as to be +able to preserve the harmony, all are equally out of tune; so +because offences differ from what is right, they will differ +equally; therefore they are equal: now here we are being +mocked with an ambiguous expression. For it equally +happens to all the lyres to be out of tune, but not to them +all to be equally out of tune. Therefore, that comparison does +not help you at all. For it would not follow if we were to say +that every avarice is equally avarice, that therefore every case +of avarice was equal. Here is another simile which is no +simile; for as, says he, a pilot blunders equally if he wrecks +a ship loaded with straw, as if he wrecks one loaded with +gold; so, too, he sins equally who beats his parent, with him +who beats a slave unjustly. This is not seeing that it has no +connexion with the art of the pilot what cargo the ship +carries: and therefore that it makes no difference with respect +to his steering well or ill, whether his freight is straw or gold. +But it can and ought to be understood what the difference is +between a parent and a slave; therefore it makes no difference +with respect to navigation, but a great deal with respect to +duty, what the description of thing may be which is affected +by the blunder. And if, in navigation, a ship has been +wrecked through carelessness, the offence then becomes more +serious if gold is lost, than if it is only straw. For in all arts +we insist upon the exercise of what is called common prudence; +which all men who have the management of any +<pb n='241'/><anchor id='Pg241'/> +business entrusted to them are bound to possess. And so +even in this instance offences are not equal. +</p> + +<p> +XXVIII. However, they press on, and relax nothing. Since, +say they, every offence is one of imbecility and inconsistency, +and since these vices are equally great in all fools, it follows +necessarily that offences are equal: as if it were admitted that +vices are equally great in all fools, and that Lucius Tubulus +was a man of the same imbecility and inconsistency as +Publius Scævola, on whose motion he was condemned; and +as if there were no difference at all between the things themselves +which are the subject of the offences; so that, in proportion +as they are more or less important, the offences +committed in respect of them are so too. +</p> + +<p> +Therefore, for I may now bring this discourse to an end, +your Stoics seem to me to be most especially open to this +charge, that they fancy they can support two opposite propositions. +For what is so inconsistent as for the same person +to say that what is honourable is the only good, and also that +the desire of things adapted for human life proceeds from +nature? But when they wish to maintain the arguments +which are suitable for the former propositions, they agree +with Aristo; when they avoid that, they in reality are +upholding the same doctrines as the Peripatetics; they cling +to words with great tenacity; and as they cannot bear to +have them taken from them one after another, they become +more fierce, and rough, and harsher both in their language +and manners. But Panætius, wishing to avoid their moroseness +and asperity, would not approve of either the bitterness +of their sentiments, or their captious way of arguing: and so +in one respect he was more gentle, and in the other more +intelligible. And he was always quoting Plato, and Aristotle, +and Xenocrates, and Theophrastus, and Dicæarchus, as his +own writings show. And indeed, I feel very sure that it +would do you a great deal of good if you too were to study +those authors with care and diligence. +</p> + +<p> +But since it is getting towards evening, and I must return +to my villa, we will stop this discussion at this point, but we +will often return to it on other occasions. Indeed we will, +said he, for what can we do better? And indeed I shall require +of you to give me a hearing while I refute what you +have said; but recollect that you approve of all our opinions, +<pb n='242'/><anchor id='Pg242'/> +charging us only with using words incorrectly; but that we +do not approve of one single one of your ideas. You are +throwing a stone at me as I depart, said I; however, we shall +see. And when we had thus spoken we separated. +</p> + +</div> + +<div> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>Fifth Book Of The Treatise On The +Chief Good And Evil.</head> + +<p> +I. One day when I had been hearing Antiochus lecture, as +I was in the habit of doing, O Brutus, in company with +Marcus Piso, in that gymnasium which is called Ptolemy's, +my brother Quintus being with me, and Titus Pomponius, +and Lucius Cicero, our cousin on the father's side as to relationship, +but our own brother as to affection, we determined +to take our afternoon's walk in the Academy, principally because +at that time of day that place was free from any crowd. +Accordingly, at the appointed time we all met at Piso's house, +and from thence we walked half-a-dozen furlongs from the +Dipylus to the Academy, beguiling the road with discourse on +various subjects; and when we had arrived at the deservedly +celebrated space of the Academy, we there found the solitude +which we desired. Then said Piso—Shall I say that this is +implanted in us by nature, or by some mistake, that when +we see those places which we have heard that men who deserve +to be had in recollection have much frequented, we are +more moved than when we hear even of their actual deeds, or +than when we read some one of their writings?—just as I am +affected now. For the remembrance of Plato comes into my +mind, whom we understand to have been the first person who +was accustomed to dispute in this place; and whose neighbouring +gardens not only recal him vividly to my recollection, +but seem even to place the man himself before my eyes. +Here Speusippus, here Xenocrates, here his pupil Polemo used +to walk; and the latter used to sit in the very spot which is +now before us. There is our senate-house (I mean the Curia +<pb n='243'/><anchor id='Pg243'/> +Hostilia,<note place='foot'>The Curia Hostilia was built by Tullus Hostilius, and was +originally the only place where a Senatus Consultum could be passed, though +the senate met at times in other places. But, under Cæsar, the Curia +Julia, an immense edifice, had been built as the senate-house.</note> +not this new one, which always seems to me smaller, +though in fact it is larger): whenever I have looked upon that +I have always thought of Scipio, and Cato, and Lælius, and +more especially of my own grandfather. So great a power of +reminding one of circumstances exists in the places themselves, +that it is not without reason that some people have +built up a system of memory in them. Then Quintus said—It +is just as you say, Piso: for as I was coming here just +now, that district of Colonos drew my attention to itself, +whose inhabitant, Sophocles, was brought at once before my +eyes: for you know how I admire, and how I delight in him: +and accordingly a sort of appearance moved me, an unsubstantial +one indeed, but still it did move me to a more vivid +recollection of Œdipus coming hither, and asking in most +melodious verse what all these places were. Then Pomponius +said—I whom you all are always attacking as devoted to +Epicurus, am often with Phædrus, who is a particular friend +of mine, as you know, in the gardens of Epicurus, which we +passed by just this moment; but, according to the warning +of the old proverb, I remember the living; still I may not +forget Epicurus, even if were to wish to do so, whose likeness +our friends have not only in pictures, but even on their +goblets and rings. +</p> + +<p> +II. On this I chimed in:—Our friend Pomponius, said I, +appears to be joking, and perhaps he has a right to do so; +for he has established himself at Athens in such a way that he +has almost become an Athenian, and indeed so as to seem +likely to earn such a surname. But I, Piso, agree with you that +we do get into a habit of thinking a good deal more earnestly +and deeply on illustrious men in consequence of the warnings +of place. For you know that once I went with you to Metapontum, +and did not turn into the house of my entertainer +until I had seen the very place where Pythagoras passed his +life, and his house; and at this present time, although all +over Athens there are many traces of eminent men in the +places themselves, still I am greatly affected by this seat +which is before me. For here Charmadas lately sat,—a man +<pb n='244'/><anchor id='Pg244'/> +whom I seem to see, for his likeness is well known to me, +and I can fancy that his voice is regretted by the very seat +itself, deprived as it is now of such a brilliant genius. Then +Piso said—Since, now, we have all said something, what does +our friend Lucius think? is he glad to visit that spot where +Demosthenes and Æschines used to contend together? for +every one is chiefly attracted by his own particular study. +And he blushed, and answered—Do not ask me, who went +down even to the harbour of Phalerum, where they say that +Demosthenes used to declaim to the waves, in order to accustom +himself to outvoice the roaring of the sea. I turned +aside also out of the road, a little to the right, to approach +the tomb of Pericles; although, indeed, such records are +countless in this city, for wherever we step we place our foot +on some history. +</p> + +<p> +Then Piso continued:—But, Cicero, said he, those inclinations +are the inclinations of clever men, if they lead to the +imitation of great men; but if they only tend to bringing up +again the traces of ancient recollections, that is mere curiosity. +But we all exhort you,—though you of your own accord, as I +hope, are running that way,—to imitate those men whom +you wish that you had known. Although, I replied, our +friend Piso here does, as you see, what you recommended, +still your exhortation is pleasing to me. Then said he, in a +most friendly manner, as was his wont,—Let all of us, then, +contribute every assistance to his youth, especially urging him +to devote some of his studies to philosophy, either for the +sake of imitating you whom he loves, or else of being able to +do what he is desirous to do with more elegance. But do +you, O Lucius, said he, require to be exhorted by us, or are +you inclined that way of your own accord? You appear, +indeed, to me to be very assiduous in your attendance on +Antiochus, whose pupil you are. Then replied he, timidly,—or, +I ought rather to say, modestly,—I am indeed; but did +you not just now hear Charmadas's name mentioned? I am +attracted in that direction, but Antiochus drags me back +again; nor is there any one else whose lectures it would be +possible to attend. +</p> + +<p> +III. Piso replied—Although, while our friend here (meaning +me) is present, this matter will perhaps not be quite so +easy; yet I will endeavour to call you back from this New +<pb n='245'/><anchor id='Pg245'/> +Academy to that ancient one, in which (as you used to hear Antiochus +say) those men are not alone reckoned who are called +Academics,—Speusippus, Xenocrates, Polemo, Crantor, and +the rest; but the old Peripatetics also, the chief of whom was +Aristotle, whom, next to Plato, I think I may fairly call the +prince of philosophers. Turn yourself, therefore, I entreat +you, to those men; for from their writings and systems all +liberal learning, all history, all elegance of language, may be +derived; and also, so great is the variety of arts of which +they were masters, that no one can come properly armed for +any business of importance and credit without being tolerably +versed in their writings. It is owing to them that men have +turned out orators, generals, and statesmen; and, to descend +to less important matters, it is from this Academy, as from a +regular magazine of all the arts, that mathematicians, poets, +musicians, aye, and physicians too, have proceeded. +</p> + +<p> +I replied—You know well, O Piso, that my opinion is the +same: but still the mention of it by you was very seasonable; +for my relation Cicero is anxious to hear what was the doctrine +of that Old Academy which you have been speaking of, +and of the Peripatetics, about the chief good; and we think +that you can very easily explain it to us, because you entertained +Staseas the Neapolitan in your house for many years, +and because, too, we are aware that you have been many +months at Athens, investigating these very things, as a pupil +of Antiochus. And he said, with a laugh, Come, come,—for +you have very cleverly drawn me in to begin the discussion,—let +us explain it to the young man if we can; for this solitude +gives us the opportunity: but, even if a god had told me so, +I would never have believed that I should be disputing in the +Academy, like a philosopher. However, I hope I shall not +annoy the rest of you while complying with his request. +Annoy me, said I, who asked you? Quintus and Pomponius +also said that they entertained the same wish; so he began. +And I beg of you, Brutus, to consider whether what he said +appears to you to sufficiently embrace the doctrines of Antiochus, +which I know you, who were a constant attendant on +the lectures of his brother Aristus, approve of highly. Thus +he spoke:— +</p> + +<p> +IV. What great elegance there is in the Peripatetic system +I have explained a little time ago, as briefly as I could. But +<pb n='246'/><anchor id='Pg246'/> +the form of the system, as is the case with most of the other +schools, is threefold: one division being that of nature; the +second, that of arguing; the third, that of living. Nature +has been investigated by them so thoroughly that there is no +part of heaven, or earth, or sea (to speak like a poet), which +they have passed over. Moreover, after having treated of the +origin of things, and of the universal world, so as to prove +many points not only by probable arguments, but even by the +inscrutable demonstrations of mathematicians, they brought +from the subjects which they had investigated abundant +materials to assist in attaining to the knowledge of secret +things. Aristotle investigated the birth, and way of living, +and figure of every animal; Theophrastus examined the +causes, and principles, and natures of plants, and of almost +everything which is produced out of the earth; by which +knowledge the investigation of the most secret things is rendered +easier. Also, they have given rules for arguing, not +only logically, but oratorically; and a system of speaking in +both these manners, on every subject, has been laid down by +Aristotle, their chief; so that he did not always argue against +everything, as Arcesilas did; and yet he furnished one on +every subject with arguments to be used on both sides of it. +</p> + +<p> +But, as the third division was occupied about the rules of +living well, it was also brought back by those same people, +not only to the system of private life, but also to the direction +of affairs of state. For from Aristotle we have acquired a +knowledge of the manners, and customs, and institutions of +almost every state, not of Greece only, but also of the Barbarians; +and from Theophrastus we have learnt even their laws: +and each of them taught what sort of man a leader in a state +ought to be, and also wrote at great length to explain what +was the best constitution for a state. But Theophrastus also +detailed very copiously what were the natural inclinations of +affairs, and what the influences of opportunities which required +regulating as occasion might demand. And as for +living, a quiet method of life appeared to them to be the best, +passed in the contemplation and knowledge of things; which, +inasmuch as it had the greatest resemblance to the life of the +gods, appeared to them to be most worthy of a wise man; +and on these subjects they held very lofty and dignified +language. +</p> + +<pb n='247'/><anchor id='Pg247'/> + +<p> +V. But respecting the chief good, because there are two +kinds of books,—one addressed to the people, which they used +to call ἐξωτερικὸν, the other written in a more polished style, +which they left behind in commentaries,—they appear not +always to say the same thing; and yet in their ultimate conclusion +there is no variety in the language of the men whom +I have named, nor is there any disagreement between them. +But, as a happy life is the object of search, and as that is the +only thing which philosophy ought to pursue and regard, +there never appears to be the least difference or doubt in +their writings, as to whether happiness is wholly in the power +of the wise man, or whether it can be undermined or taken +from him by adversity. And this point is the especial subject +of the book of Theophrastus, on a Happy Life; in which a +great deal is attributed to fortune: and if that theory is correct, +then wisdom cannot make life happy. Now, this seems +to me rather too tender (if I may say so) and delicate a doctrine, +more so than the power and importance of virtue can +sanction. Wherefore let us rather hold with Aristotle, and +his son Nicomachus,—whose admirably written books on +Morals are said, indeed, to be Aristotle's; but I do not see +why the son may not have been like his father; but, in most +cases, let us apply to Theophrastus, as long as we attribute a +little more firmness and strength to virtue than he did. +</p> + +<p> +Let us, then, be content with these guides; for their successors +are wiser men, indeed, in my opinion, than the philosophers +of other schools: but still they degenerate so from +these great men, that they seem to me rather to have arisen +from themselves than from them. In the first place, Strato, +the pupil of Theophrastus, called himself a natural philosopher: +and though, in truth, he is an eminent man in that +line, still most of what he said was novel; and he said very +little about morals. His pupil Lyco was rich in eloquence, +but very meagre in matter. Then his pupil Aristo was a neat +and elegant writer, but still he had not that dignity which we +look for in a great philosopher: he wrote a great deal, certainly, +and in a polished style; but, somehow or other, his +writings do not carry any weight. I pass over several, and +among them that learned man and pleasant writer, Hieronymus; +and I do not know why I should call him a Peripatetic, +for he defined the chief good to be freedom from pain: and +<pb n='248'/><anchor id='Pg248'/> +he who disagrees with me about the chief good, disagrees with +me about the whole principle of philosophy. Critolaus wished +to copy the ancients; and, indeed, he comes nearest to them +in dignity, and his eloquence is preeminent: still he adheres +to the ancient doctrine. Diodorus, his pupil, adds to honourableness +freedom from pain: he, too, clings to a theory of his +own; and, as he disagrees from them about the chief good, he +is hardly entitled to be called a Peripatetic. But my friend +Antiochus seems to me to pursue the opinions of the ancients +with the greatest care; and he shows that they coincided +with the doctrines of Aristotle and Polemo. +</p> + +<p> +VI. My young friend Lucius, therefore, acts prudently +when he wishes chiefly to be instructed about the chief good; +for when this point is once settled in philosophy, everything +is settled. For in other matters, if anything is passed over, +or if we are ignorant of anything, the inconvenience thus +produced is no greater than the importance the matter is of +in which the omission has taken place; but if one is ignorant +of what is the chief good, one must necessarily be ignorant of +the true principles of life; and from this ignorance such great +errors ensue that they cannot tell to what port to betake +themselves. But when one has acquired a knowledge of the +chief ends,—when one knows what is the chief good and the +chief evil,—then a proper path of life, and a proper regulation +of all the duties of life, is found out. +</p> + +<p> +There is, therefore, an object to which everything may be +referred; from which a system of living happily, which is +what every one desires, may be discovered and adopted. But +since there is a great division of opinion as to what that consists +in, we had better employ the division of Carneades, which +our friend Antiochus prefers, and usually adopts. He therefore +saw not only how many different opinions of philosophers +on the subject of the chief good there were, but how many +there could be. Accordingly, he asserted that there was no +art which proceeded from itself; for, in truth, that which is +comprehended by an art is always exterior to the art. There +is no need of prolonging this argument by adducing instances; +for it is evident that no art is conversant about itself, but +that the art itself is one thing, and the object which is proposed +to be attained by the art another. Since, therefore, +prudence is the art of living, just as medicine is of health, or +<pb n='249'/><anchor id='Pg249'/> +steering of navigation, it follows unavoidably that that also +must have been established by, and must proceed from, something +else. But it is agreed among almost all people, that +that object with which prudence is conversant, and which it +wishes to arrive at, ought to be fitted and suited to nature, +and to be of such a character as by itself to invite and attract +that desire of the mind which the Greeks call ὁρμή. But as +to what it is which causes this excitement, and which is so +greatly desired by nature from its first existence, it is not +agreed; and, indeed, there is a great dissension on the subject +among philosophers whenever the chief good is the subject of +investigation: for the source of this whole question which is +agitated as to the chief good and evil, when men inquire what +is the extreme and highest point of either, must be traced +back, and in that will be found the primitive inducements of +nature; and when it is found, then the whole discussion +about the chief good and evil proceeds from it as from a +spring. +</p> + +<p> +VII. Some people consider the first desire to be a desire of +pleasure, and the first thing which men seek to ward off to be +pain: others think that the first thing wished for is freedom +from pain, and the first thing shunned, pain; and from these +men others proceed, who call the first goods natural ones; +among which they reckon the safety and integrity of all one's +parts, good health, the senses unimpaired, freedom from pain, +strength, beauty, and other things of the same sort, the +images of which are the first things in the mind, like the +sparks and seeds of the virtues. And of these three, as there +is some one thing by which nature is originally moved to feel +desire, or to repel something, and as it is impossible that +there should be anything except these three things, it follows +unavoidably that every duty, whether of avoiding or of pursuing +anything, is referred to some one of these things; so that +that prudence, which we have called the art of life, is always +conversant about some one of these three things from which +it derives the beginning of the whole life: and from that +which it has pronounced to be the original cause by which +nature is excited, the principle of what is right and honourable +arises; which can agree with some one of these three +divisions; so that it is honourable to do everything for the +sake of pleasure, even if you do not obtain it; or else for the +<pb n='250'/><anchor id='Pg250'/> +sake of avoiding pain, though you may not be able to compass +that; or else of getting some one of those things which +are according to nature. And thus it comes about that there +is as much difference between the chief good and the chief +evil as there is in their natural principles. Others again, +starting from the same beginning, refer everything either to +pleasure or to freedom from pain, or else to the attainment of +those primary goods which are according to nature. +</p> + +<p> +Now then that we have detailed six opinions about the +chief good, these are the chief advocates of the three last-mentioned +opinions,—Aristippus, the advocate of pleasure; +Hieronymus, of freedom from pain; and Carneades, of the +enjoyment of those things which we have called the principal +things in accordance with nature (though he, indeed, was not +the author of this theory, but only its advocate, for the sake +of maintaining a debate). Now, the three former were such +as might possibly be true, though only one of them was +defended, and that was vehemently maintained. For no one +says, that to do everything for the sake of pleasure, or that, +even though we obtain nothing, still the very design of +acting so is of itself desirable, and honourable, and the only +good; no one ever even placed the avoidance of pain (not +even if it could be avoided) among things intrinsically desirable; +but to do everything with a view to obtain the +things which are according to nature, even though we do not +succeed in obtaining them, the Stoics do affirm to be honourable, +and the only thing to be desired for its own sake, and +the only good. +</p> + +<p> +VIII. These, then, are six plain opinions about the chief +good and the chief evil,—two having no advocate, but four +being defended. But of united and twofold explanations of +the chief good there were in all three; nor could there be +more if you examine the nature of things thoroughly. For +either pleasure can be added to honourableness, as Callipho +and Dinomachus thought; or freedom from pain, as Diodorus +asserted; or the first gifts of nature, as the ancients said, +whom we call at the same time Academics and Peripatetics. +But, since everything cannot be said at once, at present these +things ought to be known, that pleasure ought to be excluded; +since, as it will presently appear, we have been born for higher +purposes; and nearly the same may be said of freedom from +<pb n='251'/><anchor id='Pg251'/> +pain as of pleasure. Since then we have discussed pleasure +with Torquatus, and honourableness (in which alone every +good was to consist) with Cato; in the first place, the arguments +which were urged against pleasure are nearly equally +applicable to freedom from pain. Nor, indeed, need we +seek for any others to reply to that opinion of Carneades; for +in whatever manner the chief good is explained, so as to be +unconnected with honourableness, in that system duty, and +virtue, and friendship, can have no place. But the union of +either pleasure or freedom from pain with honourableness, +makes that very honourableness which it wishes to embrace +dishonourable; for to refer what you do to those things, +one of which asserts the man who is free from evil to be in +the enjoyment of the chief good, while the other is conversant +with the most trifling part of our nature, is rather the conduct +of a man who would obscure the whole brilliancy of +honourableness—I might almost say, who would pollute it. +</p> + +<p> +The Stoics remain, who after they had borrowed everything +from the Peripatetics and Academics, pursued the same objects +under different names. It is better to reply to them all separately. +But let us stick to our present subject; we can deal +with those men at a more convenient season. But the +<q>security</q> of Democritus, which is as it were a sort of tranquillity +of the mind which they all εὐθυμία, deserved to be +separated from this discussion, because that tranquillity of the +mind is of itself a happy life. What we are inquiring, however, +is not what it is, but whence it is derived. The opinions +of Pyrrho, Aristo, and Herillus, have long ago been exploded +and discarded, as what can never be applicable to this circle +of discussion to which we limit ourselves, and which had no +need to have been ever mentioned; for as the whole of this +inquiry is about the chief, and what I may call the highest +good and evil, it ought to start from that point which we call +suitable and adapted to nature, and which is sought of itself +for itself. Now this is wholly put out of the question by +those who deny that in those things in which there is nothing +either honourable or dishonourable, there is any reason why +one thing should be preferred to another, and who think that +there is actually no difference whatever between those things. +And Herillus, if he thought that nothing was good except +knowledge, put an end to all reason for taking counsel, and to +<pb n='252'/><anchor id='Pg252'/> +all inquiry about duty. Thus, after we have got rid of the +opinions of the rest, as there can be no other, this doctrine of +the ancients must inevitably prevail. +</p> + +<p> +IX. Therefore, after the fashion of the ancients, which the +Stoics also adopt, let us make this beginning:—Every animal +loves itself, and as soon as it is born labours to preserve itself, +because this is the first desire given to it by nature, to regulate +its whole life, to preserve itself, and to be so disposed as +it best may in accordance with nature. At the beginning it +has such a confused and uncertain kind of organization that +it can only just take care of itself, whatever it is; but it does +not understand either what it is, or what its powers are, or +what its nature is. But when it has advanced a little, and +begins to perceive how far anything touches it, or has reference +to it, then it begins gradually to improve, and to comprehend +itself, and to understand for what cause it has that appetite of +the mind which I have spoken of; and begins also to desire +those things which it feels to be suited to its nature, and to +keep off the contrary. Therefore, in the case of every animal, +what it wishes is placed in that thing which is adapted to its +nature. And so the chief good is to live according to nature, +with the best disposition and the most suitable to nature that +can be engendered. +</p> + +<p> +But since every animal has his own peculiar nature, it is +plain that the object of each must be to have his nature satisfied. +For there is no hindrance to there being some things in +common to all other animals, and some common both to +men and beasts, since the nature of all is common. But that +highest and chief good and evil which we are in search of, is +distributed and divided among the different kinds of animals, +each having its own peculiar good and evil, adapted to that +end which the nature of each class of animal requires. Wherefore, +when we say that the chief good to all animals is to live +according to nature, this must be understood as if we said +that they had all the same chief good. But as it may truly +be said to be common to all arts to be conversant about some +science, and that there is a separate science belonging to each +art, so we may say that it is common to all animals to live +according to nature, but that there are different natures; so +that the horse has by nature one chief good, the ox another, +man another; and yet in all there is one common end; and +<pb n='253'/><anchor id='Pg253'/> +that is the case too, not only in animals, but also in all those +things which nature nourishes, causes to grow, and protects; +in which we see that those things which are produced out of +the earth, somehow or other by their own energy create many +things for themselves which have influence on their life and +growth, and so each in their own kind they arrive at the +chief good. So that we may now embrace all such in one +comprehensive statement; and I need not hesitate to say, that +every nature is its own preserver; and has for its object, as +its end and chief good, to protect itself in the best possible +condition that its kind admits of; so that it follows inevitably +that all things which flourish by nature have a similar but +still not the same end. And from this it should be understood, +that the chief and highest good to man is to live +according to nature which we may interpret thus,—to live +according to that nature of a man which is made perfect on +all sides, and is in need of nothing. These things then we +must explain; and if our explanation is rather minute, you +will excuse it; for we are bound to consider the youth of our +hearer, and the fact that he is now perhaps listening to such +a discourse for the first time. Certainly, said I; although +what you have said hitherto might be very properly addressed +to hearers of any age. +</p> + +<p> +X. Since then, said he, we have explained the limit of those +things which are to be desired, we must next show why the +facts are as I have stated them. Wherefore, let us set out +from the position which I first laid down, which is also in +reality the first, so that we may understand that every animal +loves itself. And though there is no doubt of this, (for it is +a principle fixed deep in nature itself, and is comprehended +by the sense of every one, in such a degree that if any one +wished to argue against it, he would not be listened to,) yet, +that I may not pass over anything, I think it as well to +adduce some reasons why this is the case. Although, how can +any one either understand or fancy that there is any animal +which hates itself? It would be a contradiction of facts; +for when that appetite of the mind has begun designedly to +attract anything to itself which is an hindrance to it, because +it is an enemy to itself,—when it does that for its own sake, it +will both hate itself and love itself, which is impossible. It +is unavoidable that, if any one is an enemy to himself, he must +<pb n='254'/><anchor id='Pg254'/> +think those things bad which are good, and, on the other hand, +those things good which are bad; that he must avoid those +things which he ought to seek, and seek what he ought to +avoid; all which habits are indubitably the overturning of +life. For even if some people are found who seek for halters +or other modes of destruction, or, like the man in Terence, +who determined <q>for such a length of time to do less injury to +his son,</q> (as he says himself,) <q>until he becomes miserable,</q> it +does not follow that they are to be thought enemies to themselves. +But some are influenced by pain, others by desire; +many again are carried away by passion, and while they knowingly +run into evils, still fancy that they are consulting their +own interests most excellently; and, therefore, they unhesitatingly +say— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +That is my way; do you whate'er you must— +</quote> + +<p> +like men who have declared war against themselves, who like +to be tortured all day and tormented all night, and who yet +do not accuse themselves of having omitted to consult their +own interests; for this is a complaint made by those men +who are dear to and who love themselves. +</p> + +<p> +Wherefore, whenever a man is said to be but little obliged +to himself, to be a foe and enemy to himself, and in short to +flee from life, it should be understood that there is some cause +of that kind lying beneath the surface; so that it may be +understood from that very instance that every one is dear to +himself. Nor is it sufficient that there has never been any one +who hated himself; but we must understand also that there is +no one who thinks that it is a matter of indifference to him in +what condition he is; for all desire of the mind will be put +an end to if, as in those things between which there is no +difference we are not more inclined to either side, so also, in +the case of our own selves, we think it makes no difference to +us in what way we are affected. +</p> + +<p> +XI. And this also would be a very absurd thing if any +one were to say it, namely, that a man is loved by himself in +such a manner that that vehement love is referred to some +other thing, and not to that very man who loves himself. +Now when this is said in the case of friendship, of duty, or of +virtue, however it is said, it is still intelligible what is meant +by it; but in regard to our own selves, it cannot even be +understood that we should love ourselves for the sake of +<pb n='255'/><anchor id='Pg255'/> +something else, or in a word, for the sake of pleasure. For it +is for our sakes that we love pleasure, and not for the sake of +pleasure that we love ourselves; although what can be more +evident than that every one is not only dear, but excessively +dear to himself? For who is there, or at all events how few +are there, who when death approaches, does not find +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>His heart's blood chill'd with sudden fear,</l> +<l>His cheek grow pale?</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +and if it is a vice to dread the dissolution of nature so excessively, +(and the same thing on the same principle may be +asserted of our aversion to pain,) still the fact that nearly +every one is affected in this manner, is a sufficient proof that +nature abhors destruction. And though some men show this +dread or aversion to such a degree that they are deservedly +blamed for it, still this may show us that such feelings would +not be so excessive in some people, if a moderate degree of +them were not implanted in mankind by nature. +</p> + +<p> +Nor, indeed, do I mean that fear of death which is shown +by those men who, because they think that they are being +deprived of the goods of life, or because they fear some terrible +events after death, or who, because they are afraid of dying in +pain, therefore shun death; for in the case of children, who +can have no such ideas or apprehensions, they often show +fear if, when playing with them, we threaten to throw them +down from any place; and even beasts, as Pacuvius says, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Who have no cunning, or prophetic craft</l> +<l>To ward off danger ere it come,</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +shudder when the fear of death comes before them. And, +indeed, who entertains a different opinion of the wise man +himself? who, even when he has decided that he must die, +still is affected by the departure from his family, and by the +fact that he must leave the light of day. And above all is +the power of nature visible in the human race, since many +endure beggary to preserve life, and men worn out with old +age are tortured with the idea of the approach of death, and +endure such things as we see Philoctetes in the play suffer, +who, while he was kept in torture by intolerable pains, nevertheless +preserved his life by the game which he could kill +with his arrows. +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>He, though slow, o'ertook the swift,</l> +<l>He stood and slew the flying—</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<pb n='256'/><anchor id='Pg256'/> + +<p> +as Attius says, and made himself coverings for his body by +plaiting the feathers together. I am speaking of mankind, +and, indeed, generally of all animals, though plants and trees +have nearly the same nature, whether, as is the opinion of +some most learned men, because some predominant and +divine cause has implanted this power in them, or whether it +is accidental. We see those things which the earth produces +preserved in vigour by their bark and roots, which happens +to animals by the arrangement of their senses, and a certain +compact conformation of limb. And with reference to this +subject, although I agree with those men who think that all +these things are regulated by nature, and that if nature neglected +to regulate them, the animals themselves could not +exist, still I grant that those who differ on this subject may +think what they please, and may either understand that when +I say the nature of man I mean man (for it makes no difference); +for a man will be able to depart from himself sooner +than he can lose the desire of those things which are advantageous +to him. Rightly, therefore, have the most learned +philosophers sought the principle of the chief good in nature, +and thought that that appetite for things adapted to nature +is implanted in all men, for they are kept together by that +recommendation of nature in obedience to which they love +themselves. +</p> + +<p> +XII. The next thing which we must examine is, what is the +nature of man, since it is sufficiently evident that every one +is dear to himself by nature; for that is the thing which we +are really inquiring about. But it is evident that man consists +of mind and body, and that the first rank belongs to the +mind, and the second to the body. In the next place we see, +also, that his body is so formed as to excel that of other +animals, and that his mind is so constituted as to be furnished +with senses, and to have excellence of intellect which the +whole nature of man obeys, in which there is a certain admirable +force of reason, and knowledge, and science, and all kinds +of virtues; for the things which are parts of the body have +no authority to be compared with that possessed by the parts +of the mind; and they are more easily known. Therefore, let +us begin with them. +</p> + +<p> +It is evident, now, how suitable to nature are the parts of +our body, and the whole general figure, form, and stature of +<pb n='257'/><anchor id='Pg257'/> +it; nor is there any doubt what kind of face, eyes, ears and +other features are peculiar to man. But certainly it is necessary +for them to be in good health and vigorous, and to have +all their natural movements and uses; so that no part of them +shall be absent, or disordered, or enfeebled; for nature requires +soundness. For there is a certain action of the body which +has all its motions and its general condition in a state of +harmony with nature, in which if anything goes wrong +through any distortion or depravity, either by any irregular +motion or disordered condition,—as if, for instance, a person +were to walk on his hands, or to walk not forwards but backwards,—then +he would evidently appear to be flying from +himself, and to be putting off his manhood, and to hate his +own nature. On which account, also, some ways of sitting +down, and some contorted and abrupt movements, such as +wanton or effeminate men at times indulge in, are contrary to +nature. So that even if that should happen through any +fault of the mind, still the nature of the man would seem to +be changed in his body. Therefore, on the contrary, moderate +and equal conditions, and affections, and habits of the body, +seem to be suitable to nature. But now the mind must not +only exist, but must exist in a peculiar manner, so as to have +all its parts sound, and to have no virtue wanting: but each +sense has its own peculiar virtue, so that nothing may hinder +each sense from performing its office in the quick and ready +perception of those things which come under the senses. +</p> + +<p> +XIII. But there are many virtues of the mind, and of that +part of the mind which is the chief, and which is called the +intellect; but these virtues are divided into two principal +classes: one, consisting of those which are implanted by +nature, and are called involuntary; the other, of those which +depend on the will, and are more often spoken of by their +proper name of virtues; whose great excellence is attributed +to the mind as a subject of praise. Now in the former class +are docility, memory, and others, nearly all of which are called +by the one name of <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>ingenium</foreign>, +and those who possess them are called +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>ingeniosi</foreign>. +The other class consists of those which are great +and real virtues; which we call voluntary, such as prudence, +temperance, fortitude, justice, and others of the same kind. +And this was what might be said briefly of both mind and +body; and this statement supplies a sort of sketch of what the +<pb n='258'/><anchor id='Pg258'/> +nature of man requires:—and from this it is evident, since we +are beloved by ourselves, and since we wish everything both +in our minds and bodies to be perfect, that those qualities are +dear to us for their own sakes, and that they are of the +greatest influence towards our living well. For he to whom +self-preservation is proposed as an object, must necessarily +feel an affection for all the separate parts of himself; and a +greater affection in proportion as they are more perfect and +more praiseworthy in their separate kinds. For that kind of +life is desired which is full of the virtues of the mind and +body; and in that the chief good must unavoidably be placed, +since it ought to be of such a character as to be the highest of +all desirable things. And when we have ascertained that, +there ought to be no doubt entertained, that as men are +dear to themselves for their own sake, and of their own accord, +so, also, the parts of the body and mind, and of those things +which are in the motion and condition of each, are cultivated +with a deserved regard, and are sought for their own sakes. +And when this principle has been laid down, it is easy to conjecture +that those parts of us are most desirable which have +the most dignity; so that the virtue of each most excellent +part which is sought for its own sake, is also deserving of being +principally sought after. And the consequence will be, that +the virtue of the mind is preferred to the virtue of the body, +and that the voluntary virtues of the mind are superior to +the involuntary; for it is the voluntary ones which are properly +called virtues, and which are much superior to the +others, as being the offspring of reason; than which there is +nothing more divine in man. In truth, the chief good of all +those qualities which nature creates and maintains, and which +are either unconnected or nearly so with the body, is placed +in the mind; so that it appears to have been a tolerably acute +observation which was made respecting the sow, that that +animal had a soul given it instead of salt to keep it from +getting rotten. +</p> + +<p> +XIV. But there are some beasts in which there is something +resembling virtue, such as lions, dogs, and horses; in +which we see movements not of the body only, as we do in +pigs, but to a certain extent we may discern some movements +of mind. But in man the whole dominant power lies +in the mind; and the dominant power of the mind is reason: +<pb n='259'/><anchor id='Pg259'/> +and from this proceeds virtue, which is defined as the perfection +of reason: which they think is to be gradually developed +day by day. Those things, too, which the earth produces have +a sort of gradual growth towards perfection, not very unlike +what we see in animals. Therefore we say that a vine lives, +and dies; we speak of a tree as young, or old; being in its +prime, or growing old. And it is therefore not inconsistent +to speak, as in the case of animals, of some things in plants, +too, being conformable to nature, and some not: and to say +that there is a certain cultivation of them, nourishing, and +causing them to grow, which is the science and art of the +farmer, which prunes them, cuts them in, raises them, trains +them, props them, so that they may be able to extend themselves +in the direction which nature points out; in such a +manner that the vines themselves, if they could speak, would +confess that they ought to be managed and protected in the +way they are. And now indeed that which protects it (that +I may continue to speak chiefly of the vine) is external to the +vine: for it has but very little power in itself to keep itself +in the best possible condition, unless cultivation is applied +to it. But if sense were added to the vine, so that it could +feel desire and be moved by itself, what do you think it would +do? Would it do those things which were formerly done to +it by the vine-dresser, and of itself attend to itself? Do you +not see that it would also have the additional care of preserving +its senses, and its desire for all those things, and its +limbs, if any were added to it? And so too, to all that it had +before, it will unite those things which have been added to it +since: nor will it have the same object that its dresser had, +but it will desire to live according to that nature which has +been subsequently added to it: and so its chief good will +resemble that which it had before, but will not be identical +with it; for it will be no longer seeking the good of a plant, +but that of an animal. And suppose that not only the senses +are given it, but also the mind of a man, does it not follow +inevitably that those former things will remain and require to +be protected, and that among them these additions will be far +more dear to it than its original qualities? and that each +portion of the mind which is best is also the dearest? and +that its chief good must now consist in satisfying its nature, +since intellect and reason are by far the most excellent parts +<pb n='260'/><anchor id='Pg260'/> +of it? And so the chief of all the things which it has to +desire, and that which is derived from the original recommendation +of nature, ascends by several steps, so as at last to +reach the summit; because it is made up of the integrity of +the body, and the perfect reason of the intellect. +</p> + +<p> +XV. As, therefore, the form of nature is such as I have described +it, if, as I said at the beginning, each individual as +soon as he is born could know himself, and form a correct +estimate of what is the power both of his entire nature and +of its separate parts, he would see immediately what this was +which we are in search of, namely, the highest and best of all +the things which we desire: nor would it be possible for him +to make a mistake in anything. But now nature is from the +very beginning concealed in a wonderful manner, nor can it +be perceived nor comprehended. But as our age advances, +we gradually, or I should rather say slowly, come to a kind +of knowledge of ourselves. Therefore, that original recommendation +which is given to us by our nature, is obscure and +uncertain; and that first appetite of the mind only goes the +length of wishing to secure our own safety and soundness. +But when we begin to look around us, and to feel what we +are, and in what we differ from all the other animals, then we +begin to pursue the objects for which we were born. And we +see a similar thing take place in beasts, who at first do not +move from the place in which they were born; but afterwards +all move, influenced by some desire of their own. And +so we see snakes crawl, ducks swim, blackbirds fly, oxen use +their horns, scorpions their stings; and we see nature a guide +to each animal in its path of life. +</p> + +<p> +And the case is similar with the human race. For infants +at their first birth lie as if they were utterly devoid of mind; +but when a little strength has been added to them, they use +both their mind and their senses, and endeavour to raise +themselves up and to use their hands; and they recognise +those by whom they are being brought up; and afterwards +they are amused with those of their own age, and gladly +associate with them, and give themselves up to play, and are +attracted by hearing stories, and are fond of pleasing others +with their own superfluities; and take curious notice of what +is done at home, and begin to make remarks, and to learn; +and do not like to be ignorant of the names of those whom +<pb n='261'/><anchor id='Pg261'/> +they see; and in their sports and contests with their fellows, +they are delighted if they win, and if they are beaten they +are dejected and lose their spirits. And we must not think +that any of these things happen without reason; for the +power of man is produced in such a way by nature, that it +seems made for a perception of all excellence: and on that +account children, even without being taught, are influenced +by likeness of those virtues of which they have the seeds in +themselves; for they are the original elements of nature: +and when they have acquired growth, then the whole work of +nature is accomplished. For as we have been born and created +so as to contain in ourselves the principles of doing something, +and of loving somebody, and of liberality, and of gratitude; +and so as to have minds adapted for knowledge, prudence, +and fortitude, and averse to their opposites; it is not without +cause that we see in children those sparks, as it were, of virtue +which I have mentioned, by which the reason of a philosopher +ought to be kindled to follow that guide as if it were a god, +and so to arrive at the knowledge of the object of nature. +</p> + +<p> +For, as I have often said already, the power of nature is +discerned through a cloud while we are of a weak age and +feeble intellect; but when our mind has made progress and +acquired strength, then it recognises the power of nature, but +still in such a way that it can make more progress still, and +that it must derive the beginning of that progress from itself. +</p> + +<p> +XVI. We must therefore enter into the nature of things, +and see thoroughly what it demands; for otherwise we cannot +arrive at the knowledge of ourselves. And because this +precept was too important an one to be discerned by a man, it +has on that account been attributed to God. The Pythian +Apollo, then, enjoins us to know ourselves: but this knowledge +is to know the power of our mind and body, and to +follow that course of life which enjoys the circumstances +in which it is placed. And since that desire of the mind to +have all the things which I have mentioned in the most perfect +manner in which nature could provide them, existed from +the beginning, we must admit, when we have obtained what +we desired, that nature consists in that as its extreme point, +and that that is the chief good: which certainly must in +every case be sought for spontaneously for its own sake, since +it has already been proved, that even all its separate parts +<pb n='262'/><anchor id='Pg262'/> +are to be desired for their own sake. But if, in enumerating +the advantages of the body, any one should think that we +have passed over pleasure, that question may be postponed till +another opportunity; for it makes no difference with regard +to the present subject of our discussion, whether pleasure +consists in those things which we have called the chief things +in accordance with nature, or whether it does not. For if, as +I indeed think, pleasure is not the crowning good of nature, it +has been properly passed over: but if that crowning good +does exist in pleasure, as some assert, then the fact does not +at all hinder this idea of ours of the chief good from being +the right one. For, if to those things which are the principal +goods of nature, pleasure is added, then there will have +been added just one advantage of the body; but no change +will have been made in the original definition of the chief +good which was laid down at first. +</p> + +<p> +XVII. And hitherto, indeed, reason has advanced with us +in such a way as to be wholly derived from the original recommendation +of nature. But now we must pursue another +kind of argument, namely, that we are moved in these matters +of our own exceeding goodwill, not only because we love ourselves, +but because there is both in the body and in the mind +a peculiar power belonging to each part of nature. And, (to +begin with the body,) do you not see that if there is anything +in their limbs deformed, or weak, or deficient, men conceal +it? and take pains, and labour earnestly, if they can possibly +contrive it, to prevent that defect of the body from being +visible, or else to render it as little visible as possible? and +that they submit to great pain for the sake of curing any +such defect? in order that, even though the actual use of the +limb, after the application of the remedy, be likely to be not +greater, but even less, still the appearance of the limb may +be restored to the ordinary course of nature. In truth, as +all men fancy that they are altogether desirable by nature, +and that too, not on any other account, but for their own +sakes, it follows inevitably that each part of them should be +desired for its own sake, because the whole body is sought +for its own sake. What more need I say? Is there nothing +in the motion and condition of the body which nature herself +decides ought to be noticed? for instance, how a person +walks or sits, what the expression of his countenance is, what +<pb n='263'/><anchor id='Pg263'/> +his features are; is there nothing in all these things which we +think worthy or unworthy of a free man, as the case may be? +Do we not think many men deserving of hatred, who appear +by some motion or condition to have despised the laws and +moderation of nature? And since these things are derived +from the body, what is the reason why beauty also may not +fairly be said to be a thing to be desired for its own sake? +</p> + +<p> +For if we consider distortion or disfigurement of the body +a thing to be avoided for its own sake, why should we not +also, and perhaps still more, cultivate dignity of form for its +own sake? And if we avoid what is unseemly, both in the +condition and motion of the body, why may we not on the +other hand pursue beauty? And we also desire health, +strength, and freedom from pain, not merely because of their +utility, but also for their own sakes. For since nature +wishes to be made complete in all her parts, she desires this +condition of the body, which is most according to nature, for +its own sake: but nature is put into complete confusion if +the body is either sick, or in pain, or destitute of strength. +</p> + +<p> +XVIII. Let us consider the parts of the mind, the appearance +of which is more noble; for in proportion as they are +more sublime, they give a more clear indication of their +nature. So vehement a love, then, of knowledge and science +is innate in us, that no one can doubt that the nature of man +is drawn to them without being attracted by any external gain. +Do we not see how boys cannot be deterred even by stripes +from the consideration and investigation of such and such +things? how, though they may be beaten, they still pursue +their inquiries, and rejoice in having acquired some knowledge? +how they delight in telling others what they have +learnt? how they are attracted by processions, and games, +and spectacles of that kind, and will endure even hunger and +thirst for such an object? Can I say no more? Do we not +see those who are fond of liberal studies and arts regard +neither their health nor their estate? and endure everything +because they are charmed with the intrinsic beauty of knowledge +and science? and that they put the pleasures which +they derive from learning in the scale against the greatest care +and labour? And Homer himself appears to me to have +had some such feeling as this, which he has developed in +what he has said about the songs of the Sirens: for they do +<pb n='264'/><anchor id='Pg264'/> +not seem to have been accustomed to attract those who were +sailing by with the sweetness of their voices, or with any +novelty or variety in their song, but the profession which +they made of possessing great knowledge; so that men clung +to their rocks from a desire of learning. For thus they invite +Ulysses, (for I have translated several passages of Homer, and +this among them)— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Oh stay, O pride of Greece! Ulysses, stay!</l> +<l>Oh, cease thy course, and listen to our lay!</l> +<l>Blest is the man ordain'd our voice to hear:</l> +<l>Our song instructs the soul and charms the ear.</l> +<l>Approach, thy soul shall into raptures rise;</l> +<l>Approach, and learn new wisdom from the wise.</l> +<l>We know whate'er the kings of mighty name</l> +<l>Achieved at Ilium in the field of fame;</l> +<l>Whate'er beneath the sun's bright journey lies—</l> +<l>Oh stay, and learn new wisdom from the wise.<note place='foot'>Pope's +Homer, Odys. xii. 231.</note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Homer saw that the story would not be probable if he +represented so great a man as caught by mere songs; so they +promise him knowledge, which it was not strange that a man +desirous of wisdom should consider dearer than his country. +And, indeed, to wish to know everything of every kind, is +natural to the curious; but, to be attracted by the contemplation +of greater objects, to entertain a general desire for +knowledge, ought to be considered a proof of a great man. +</p> + +<p> +XIX. What ardour for study do you not suppose there +must have been in Archimedes, who was so occupied in +drawing some mathematical figures in the sand, that he was +not aware that his city was taken? And what a mighty +genius was that of Aristoxenus which, we see, was devoted to +music? What fondness, too, for study, must have inspired +Aristophanes, to dedicate his whole life to literature! What +shall we say of Pythagoras? Why should I speak of Plato +and of Democritus, by whom, we see, that the most distant +countries were travelled over, on account of their desire for +learning? And those who are blind to this have never loved +anything very worthy of being known. And here I may say, +that those who say that those studies which I have mentioned +are cultivated for the sake of the pleasures of the mind, do +not understand that they are desirable for their own sakes, +because the mind is delighted by them, without the interruption +of any ideas of utility, and rejoices in the mere fact of +<pb n='265'/><anchor id='Pg265'/> +knowledge, even though it may possibly produce inconvenience. +But why need we seek for more instances to prove what is so +evident? For let us examine our own selves, and inquire +how the motions of the stars, and the contemplation of the +heavenly bodies, and the knowledge of all those things which +are hidden from us by the obscurity of nature, affect us; and +why history, which we are accustomed to trace back as far as +possible, delights us; in the investigation of which we go +over again all that has been omitted, and follow up all that +we have begun. Nor, indeed, am I ignorant that there is a +use, and not merely pleasure, in history. What, however, +will be said, with reference to our reading with pleasure +imaginary fables, from which no utility can possibly be +derived? Or to our wishing that the names of those who have +performed any great exploits, and their family, and their +country, and many circumstances besides, which are not at +all necessary, should be known to us? How shall we explain +the fact, that men of the lowest rank, who have no hope of +ever performing great deeds themselves, artisans in short, are +fond of history; and that we may see that those persons also +are especially fond of hearing and reading of great achievements, +who are removed from all hope of ever performing +any, being worn out with old age? +</p> + +<p> +It must, therefore, be understood, that the allurements are +in the things themselves which are learnt and known, and +that it is they themselves which excite us to learning and to +the acquisition of information. And, indeed, the old philosophers, +in their fictitious descriptions of the islands of the +blessed, intimate the kind of life which the wise pass, whom +they imagine to be free from all care, requiring no cultivation +or appointments of life as necessary, and doing, and about to +do nothing else but devote their whole time to inquiring and +learning and arriving at a knowledge of nature. But we see +that that is not only the delight of a happy life, but also a +relief from misery. Therefore, many men while in the power +of enemies or tyrants, many while in prison or in exile, have +relieved their sorrow by the study of literature. A great man +of this city, Demetrius Phalereus, when he had been unjustly +banished from his country, fled to Alexandria, to king +Ptolemy; and, as he was very eminent for his knowledge of +this philosophy to which we are exhorting you, and had been +<pb n='266'/><anchor id='Pg266'/> +a pupil of Theophrastus, he wrote many admirable treatises +during the time of that unfortunate leisure of his, not, indeed, +for any utility to himself, for that was out of his reach, but +the cultivation of his mind was to him a sort of sustenance +for his human nature. +</p> + +<p> +I, indeed, have often heard Cnæus Aufidius, a man of prætorian +rank, of great learning, but blind, say that he was +affected more by a regret for the loss of light, than of any +actual benefit which he derived from his eyes. Lastly, if +sleep did not bring us rest to our bodies, and a sort of +medicine after labour, we should think it contrary to nature, +for it deprives us of our senses, and takes away our power of +action. Therefore, if either nature were in no need of rest, or +if it could obtain it by any other means, we should be glad, +since even now we are in the habit of doing without sleep, in +a manner almost contrary to nature, when we want to do or +to learn something. +</p> + +<p> +XX. But there are tokens supplied by nature, still clearer, +or, I may say, entirely evident and indubitable,—more especially, +indeed, in man, but also in every animal,—that the mind +is always desirous to be doing something, and can in no +condition endure perpetual rest. It is easy to see this in the +earliest age of children; for although I fear that I may +appear prolix on this subject, still all the ancient philosophers, +and especially those of our own country, have recourse to +the cradle for illustrations, because they think that in childhood +they can most easily detect the will of nature. We +see, then, that even infants cannot rest; but, when they have +advanced a little, then they are delighted with even laborious +sports, so that they cannot be deterred from them even by +beating: and that desire for action grows with their growth. +Therefore, we should not like to have the slumber of Endymion +given to us, not even if we expected to enjoy the most +delicious dreams; and if it were, we should think it like +death. Moreover, we see that even the most indolent men, +men of a singular worthlessness, are still always in motion +both in mind and body; and when they are not hindered by +some unavoidable circumstance, that they demand a dice-box +or some game of some kind, or conversation; and, as they +have none of the liberal delights of learning, seek circles and +assemblies. Even beasts, which we shut up for our own +<pb n='267'/><anchor id='Pg267'/> +amusement, though they are better fed than if they were free, +still do not willingly endure being imprisoned, but pine for +the free and unrestrained movements given to them by +nature. Therefore, in proportion as every one is born and +prepared for the best objects, he would be unwilling to live at +all if, being excluded from action, he were able only to enjoy +the most abundant pleasures. +</p> + +<p> +For men wish either to do something as individuals, or +those who have loftier souls undertake the affairs of the state, +and devote themselves to the attainment of honours and +commands, or else wholly addict themselves to the study of +learning; in which path of life they are so far from getting +pleasures, that they even endure care, anxiety and sleeplessness, +enjoying only that most excellent portion of man which +may be accounted divine in us, I mean the acuteness of the +genius and intellect, and they neither seek for pleasure nor +shun labour. Nor do they intermit either their admiration +of the discoveries of the ancients, or their search after new +ones; and, as they are insatiable in their pursuit of such, +they forget everything else, and admit no low or grovelling +thoughts; and such great power is there in those studies, +that we see even those who have proposed to themselves other +chief goods, which they measure by advantage or pleasure, +still devote their lives to the investigation of things, and to +the explanation of the mysteries of nature. +</p> + +<p> +XXI. This, then, is evident, that we were born for action. +But there are several kinds of action, so that the lesser are +thrown into the shade by those more important. But those +of most consequence are, first of all, as it appears to me, and +to those philosophers whose system we are at present discussing, +the consideration and knowledge of the heavens, and of +those things which are hidden and concealed by nature, but +into which reason can still penetrate. And, next to them, +the management of state affairs, or a prudent, temperate, +courageous principle of government and knowledge, and the +other virtues, and such actions as are in harmony with those +virtues, which we, embracing them all in one word, call +honourable; to the knowledge and practice of which we are +led by nature herself, who goes before us as our guide, we +having been already encouraged to pursue it. For the +beginnings of all things are small, but, as they proceed, they +<pb n='268'/><anchor id='Pg268'/> +increase in magnitude, and that naturally: for, at their first +birth, there is in them a certain tenderness and softness, so that +they cannot see or do what is best. For the light of virtue and +of a happy life, which are the two principal things to be desired, +appears rather later; and much later still in such a way that +it can be plainly perceived of what character they are. +</p> + +<p> +For, admirably does Plato say, <q>That man is happy to +whom, even in his old age, it is allowed to arrive at wisdom +and correctness of judgment.</q> Wherefore, since we have +said enough of the first advantages of nature, we will now +examine those which are more important, and which are later +in point of time. +</p> + +<p> +Nature, then, has made and fashioned the body of man in +such a manner, that it makes some parts of him perfect at +his first birth, and forms others as he advances in age; and, +at the same time, does not employ many external or adventitious +aids. But she has filled up the perfection of the mind +in the same way as that of the body; for she has adorned it +with senses suitable for the effecting of its purposes, so that +it is not in the least, or not much, in want of any assistance +for strengthening itself. But that which is most excellent +and important in man it has abandoned: although it has +given him an intellect able to receive every kind of virtue, +and has implanted in him, even without instruction, a slight +knowledge of the most important things, and has begun, as it +were, to teach him, and has led him on to those elements as +I may call them, of virtue which existed in him. But it has +only begun virtue itself, nothing more. Therefore it belongs +to us,—when I say to us, I mean to our art,—to trace back +the consequences to those principles which we have received, +until we have accomplished our object, which is indeed of a +good deal more consequence, and a good deal more to be +desired for its own sake, than either the senses, or those parts +of the body which we have mentioned; which the excellent +perfection of the mind is so far superior to, that it can +scarcely be imagined how great the difference is. Therefore, +all honour, all admiration, all study is referred to virtue, and +to those actions which are consistent with virtue; and all +those things which are either in our minds in that state, or +are done in that manner, are called by one common name—honourable. +And we shall presently see what knowledge we +<pb n='269'/><anchor id='Pg269'/> +have of all these things, and what is meant by the different +names, and what the power and nature of each is. +</p> + +<p> +XXII. But at present we need only explain that these +things which I call honourable, (besides the fact of our living +ourselves on their account,) are also by their own nature +deserving of being sought for their own sake. Children show +this, in whom nature is perceived as in a mirror. What +eagerness is there in them when contending together! how +vigorous are their contests! how elated are those who win! +how ashamed those who are beaten! how unwilling are they +to be blamed! how eager to be praised! what labours will they +not endure to surpass their fellows! what a recollection have +they of those who are kind to them! how anxious are they +to prove their gratitude! and these qualities are most visible +in the best dispositions; in which all these honourable qualities +which we appreciate are filled up as it were by nature. +But in children they are only sketched. +</p> + +<p> +Again, in more mature age, who is so unlike a man as not +to be moved to a dislike of baseness and approval of what is +honourable? Who is there who does not loathe a libidinous +and licentious youth? who, on the contrary, does not love +modesty and constancy in that age, even though his own +interest is not at all concerned? Who does not detest Pullus +Numitorius, of Fregellæ, the traitor, although he was of use +to our own republic? who does not praise Codrus, the +saviour of his city, and the daughters of Erectheus? Who +does not detest the name of Tubulus? and love the dead +Aristides? Do we forget how much we are affected at hearing +or reading when we are brought to the knowledge of +anything which has been done in a pious, or friendly, or +magnanimous spirit? Why should I speak of men like ourselves, +who have been born and brought up and trained to +praise and glory? What shouts of the common people and of +the unlettered crowd are excited in the theatres when this +sentence is uttered— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +I am Orestes: +</quote> + +<p> +and when, on the other hand, the other actor says— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +No; it is I, 'tis I who am Orestes. +</quote> + +<p> +But when one of them is allowed to depart by the perplexed +and bewildered king, and they demand to die together, is this +<pb n='270'/><anchor id='Pg270'/> +scene ever acted without being accompanied by the most +violent expressions of admiration? There is no one, then, who +does not approve of and praise this disposition of mind; by +which not only no advantage is sought, but good faith is preserved +even at the expense of one's advantage. And not only +are imaginary fables, but true histories also, and especially +those of our country, full of such instances: for we selected +our most virtuous citizen to receive the Idæan sacred vessels; +we have sent guardians to kings; our generals have devoted +their lives for the safety of the republic; our consuls have +warned a king who was our greatest enemy, when he was +actually approaching our walls, to beware of poison. In our +republic, a woman has been found to expiate, by a voluntary +death, a violation which was inflicted on her by force; and a +man to kill his daughter to save her from being ravished. +All which instances, and a countless host of others, prove to +the comprehension of every one that those who performed +those deeds were induced to do so by the brilliancy of virtue, +forgetful of their own advantage, and that we, when we praise +those actions, are influenced by nothing but their honourable +character. +</p> + +<p> +XXIII. And having briefly explained these matters, (for +I have not sought to adduce the number of examples which I +might have done, because there was no doubt on the subject,) +it is shown sufficiently by these facts that all the virtues, and +that honourableness which arises from these virtues, and +clings to them, are worthy to be sought for their own sake. +But in the whole of this honourableness of which we are +speaking, there is nothing so eminent, nor so extensive in its +operation, as the union of man with man, and a certain partnership +in and communication of advantages, and the affection +itself of the human race; which originating in that first +feeling according to which the offspring is loved by the parent, +and the whole house united by the bonds of wedlock and +descent, creeps gradually out of doors, first of all to one's +relations, then to one's connexions, then to one's friends and +neighbours, then to one's fellow-countrymen, and to the +public friends and allies of one's country; then it embraces +the whole human race: and this disposition of mind, giving +every one his due, and protecting with liberality and equity +this union of human society which I have spoken of, is called +<pb n='271'/><anchor id='Pg271'/> +justice, akin to which are piety, kindness, liberality, benevolence, +courtesy, and all other qualities of the same kind. But +these, though peculiarly belonging to justice, are also common +to the other virtues. +</p> + +<p> +For as the nature of man has been created such that it +has a sort of innate principle of society and citizenship, which +the Greeks call πολιτικὸν, whatever each virtue does will not +be inconsistent with that principle of common union, and that +human affection and society which I have spoken of; and +justice, as she founds herself in practice on the other virtues, +will also require them, for justice cannot be maintained +except by a courageous and wise man. Honourableness itself, +then, is a thing of the same character as all this conspiracy +and agreement of the virtues which I have been speaking of; +since it is either virtue itself, or an action virtuously performed. +And a life acting in harmony and consistency with +this system, and with virtue, may fairly be thought upright +and honourable, and consistent, and natural. And this union +and combination of virtues is nevertheless divided by philosophers +on some principle of their own. For though they +are so joined and connected as to be all partners with one +another, and to be unable to be separated from one another, +yet each has its peculiar sphere of duty; as, for instance, +fortitude is discerned in labour and danger; temperance, +in the disregard of pleasures; prudence, in the choice of +good and evil; justice, in giving every one his due. Since, +then, there is in every virtue a certain care which turns +its eyes abroad, as it were, and which is anxious about and +embraces others, the conclusion is, that friends, and brothers, +and relations, and connexions, and fellow-countrymen, and in +short everybody, since we wish the society of all mankind to +be one, are to be sought after for their own sakes. But still, +of all these things and people there is nothing of such a kind +that it can be accounted the chief good. And from this it +follows, that there are found to be two kinds of goods which +are to be sought for their own sake. One kind which exists +in those things in which that chief good is brought to perfection: +and they are qualities of either the mind or body. But +these things which are external, that is to say, which are in +neither mind nor body, such as friends, parents, children, +relations, or one's country, are indeed dear to me for their +<pb n='272'/><anchor id='Pg272'/> +own sake, but still are not of the same class as the other +kind. Nor, indeed, could any one ever arrive at the chief +good, if all those things which are external, although desirable, +were contained in the chief good. +</p> + +<p> +XXIV. How then, you will say, can it be true that everything +is referred to the chief good, if friendship, and relationship, +and all other external things are not contained in the +chief good? Why, on this principle,—because we protect +those things which are external with those duties which arise +from their respective kinds of virtue. For the cultivation of +the regard of a friend or a parent, which is the discharge of a +duty, is advantageous in the actual fact of its being such, +inasmuch as to discharge a duty is a good action; and good +actions spring from virtues; and wise men attend to them, +using nature as a kind of guide. +</p> + +<p> +But men who are not perfect, though endued with admirable +talents and dispositions, are often excited by glory, +which has the form and likeness of honourableness. But if +they were to be thoroughly acquainted with the nature of that +honourableness which is wholly complete and perfect, that +one thing which is the most admirable of all things, and the +most praiseworthy, with what joy would they be filled, when +they are so greatly delighted at its outline and bare idea! +For who that is given up to pleasure, and inflamed with the +conflagration of desire in the enjoyment of those things which +he has most eagerly wished for, can we imagine to be full of +such joy as the elder Africanus after he had conquered Hannibal, +or the younger one after he had destroyed Carthage? +What man was there who was so much elated with the way +in which all the people flocked to the Tiber on that day of +festivity as Lucius Paullus, when he was leading in triumph +king Perses as his prisoner, who was conveyed down on the +same river? +</p> + +<p> +Come now, my friend Lucius, build up in your mind the +lofty excellence of virtue, and you will not doubt that the +men who are possessed of it, and who live with a magnanimous +and upright spirit, are always happy; men who are +aware that all the movements of fortune, all the changes of +affairs and circumstances, must be insignificant and powerless +if ever they come to a contest with virtue. For those things +which are considered by us as goods of the body, do indeed +<pb n='273'/><anchor id='Pg273'/> +make up a happy life, but still not without leaving it possible +for a life to be happy without them. For so slight and inconsiderable +are those additions of goods, that as stars in the +orbit of the sun are not seen, so neither are those qualities, +but they are lost in the brilliancy of virtue. And as it is +said with truth that the influence of the advantages of the +body have but little weight in making life happy, so on the +other hand it is too strong an assertion to say that they have +no weight at all: for those who argue thus appear to me to +forget the principles of nature which they themselves have +contended for. +</p> + +<p> +We must, therefore, allow these things some influence: +provided only that we understand how much we ought to +allow them. It is, however, the part of a philosopher, who +seeks not so much for what is specious as for what is true, +neither utterly to disregard those things which those very +boastful men used to admit to be in accordance with nature; +and at the same time to see that the power of virtue, and the +authority, if I may say so, of honourableness, is so great that +all those other things appear to be, I will not say nothing, +but so trivial as to be little better than nothing. This is the +language natural to a man who, on the one hand, does not +despise everything except virtue, and who, at the same time, +honours virtue with the praises which it deserves. This, in +short, is a full and perfect explanation of the chief good; and +as the others have attempted to detach different portions +from the main body of it, each individual among them has +wished to appear to have established his own theory as the +victorious one. +</p> + +<p> +XXV. The knowledge of things has been often extolled in +a wonderful manner by Aristotle and Theophrastus for its +own sake. And Herillus, being allured by this single fact, +maintained that knowledge was the chief good, and that +there was no other thing whatever that deserved to be sought +for its own sake. Many things have been said by the ancients +on the subject of despising and contemning all human affairs. +This was the one principle of Aristo; he declared that there +was nothing which ought to be avoided or desired except vice +and virtue. And our school has placed freedom from pain +among those things which are in accordance with nature. +Hieronymus has said that this is the chief good: but Callipho, +<pb n='274'/><anchor id='Pg274'/> +and Diodorus after him, one of whom was devoted to pleasure, +and the other to freedom from pain, could neither of +them allow honourableness to be left out, which has been +especially praised by our countrymen. Moreover, even the +advocates of pleasure seek for subterfuges, and are talking +of virtue whole days together; and say that pleasure is at +first only wished for; that afterwards it, through custom, +becomes a second nature, by which men are excited to do +many things without at all seeking pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +The Stoics remain to be mentioned. They, indeed, have +borrowed not one idea or another from us, but have appropriated +our whole system of philosophy. And as other thieves +alter the marks on the things which they have stolen, so +they, in order to be able to use our opinions as their own, +have changed the names which are like the private marks on +things. And so this school alone remains worthy of those +men who study the liberal arts, worthy of the learned, worthy +of eminent men, worthy of princes, worthy of kings. +</p> + +<p> +And when he had said this, and then stopped to take +breath for a while; What is the matter? said he; do I not +seem to have said enough in your presence for my own defence? +I replied,—Indeed, O Piso, as has often been the case +before, you have seemed to-day to have so thorough an +acquaintance with all these things, that, if we could always +have the advantage of your company, I should not think +that we had much reason to have recourse to the Greeks. +Which, indeed, I have been the more pleased with, because +I recollect that Staseas, the Neapolitan, your preceptor, a +very illustrious Peripatetic, was at times accustomed to +discuss these points differently, agreeing with those men who +attributed a great deal of weight to prosperity and adversity, +and to the good or evil qualities of the body. It is as you +say, he replied: but these points are argued with much more +accuracy and impressiveness by my friend Antiochus than +they used to be by Staseas. Although I do not ask what I +have proved to your satisfaction, but what I have proved to +the satisfaction of this friend of mine, the young Cicero, a +pupil whom I wish to seduce from you. +</p> + +<p> +XXVI. Then Lucius said,—Indeed, I quite agree with what +you have said, and I think my brother does too. Then said +Piso to me: Is it so? Do you pardon the youth? or would +<pb n='275'/><anchor id='Pg275'/> +you rather that he should learn these things which, when +he has learnt thoroughly, he will know nothing at all? I +give him leave, said I. But do not you recollect that I am +allowed to express my approval or disapproval of what has +been said by you? For who can avoid approving of what +appears to him to be probable? Can any, we said, approve +of anything of which he has not a thorough perception, comprehension, +and knowledge? There is, said I, no great dispute +between us, Piso; for there is no other reason why it +appears to me that nothing can be perceived except that the +faculty of perceiving is defined in such a manner by the Stoics +that they affirm that nothing can be perceived except what is +so true that it cannot possibly be false. Therefore there is +a dispute between us and the Stoics, but none between us +and the Peripatetics. However, we may pass over this, for +it would open the door to a long and sufficiently bitter +dispute. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed to me that it was too hasty an assertion of yours +that all wise men were always happy. I know not how +such a sentence escaped you; but unless it is proved, I fear +that the assertion which Theophrastus made with respect to +fortune, and pain, and bodily torture be true, with which he +did not consider that a happy life could possibly be joined, +must be true. For it is exceedingly inconsistent that the +same person should be happy, and afflicted with many misfortunes; +and how these things can be reconciled, I do not +at all understand. Which assertion then, said he, is it that +you object to? Do you deny that the power of virtue is so +great that she can by herself be sufficient for happiness? or, +if you admit that, do you think it impossible that those persons +who are possessed of virtue may be happy, even if they +are afflicted with some evils? I, indeed, I replied, wish to +attribute as much power as possible to virtue; however, we +may discuss at another time how great her power is; at present +the only question is, whether she has so much power as +this, if anything external to virtue is reckoned among the +goods. But, said he, if you grant to the Stoics that virtue +alone, if it be present, makes life happy, you grant it also +to the Peripatetics; for those things which they do not +venture to call evils, but which they admit to be unpleasant +and inconvenient, and to be rejected, and odious to nature +<pb n='276'/><anchor id='Pg276'/> +we call evils, but slight, and, indeed, exceedingly trifling ones. +Wherefore, if that man can be happy who is among disagreeable +things which ought to be rejected, he also may be so +who is among slight evils. And I say, O Piso, if there is +any one who in causes is used to have a clear insight into +what the real question is, you are the man: wherefore I beg +of you to take notice; for, hitherto, owing perhaps to my +fault, you do not perceive what it is that I am seeking. I +am attending, said he; and I am waiting to see what answer +you will make to the questions that I ask. +</p> + +<p> +XXVII. I will answer, said I, that I am not inquiring at +present what virtue can effect, but what is said consistently +on the subject, and why the assertions are at variance with +one another. How so? said he. Because, said I, when this +pompous assertion is uttered by Zeno, as if he were an oracle,—<q>Virtue +requires nothing beyond herself to enable a man to live +happily</q>—why? said he—<q>Because there is no other good +except what is honourable.</q> I do not ask now whether that +is true; I only say that what he says is admirably consistent. +Epicurus will say the same thing—<q>that the wise man is +always happy;</q> which, indeed, he is in the habit of spouting +out sometimes. And he says that this wise man, +when he is being torn to pieces with the most exquisite +pains, will say, <q>How pleasant it is! how I disregard it!</q> +I will not argue with the man as to why there is so much +power in nature; I will only urge that he does not understand +what he ought to say, after he has said that pain is the +greatest evil. +</p> + +<p> +Now I will address the same language to you. You say +that all the goods and evils are the same that those men pronounce +them to be who have never even seen a philosopher +in a picture, as the saying is—namely, health, strength, +stature, beauty, the soundness of all a man's nails, you call +good—deformity, disease, weakness you call evils. These are +all externals; do not go on any more; but at all events you +will reckon these things among the goods, as the goods of the +body which help to compose them, namely, friends, children, +relations, riches, honour, power. Take notice that I say +nothing against this. If those are evils into which a wise +man can fall, then it follows that to be a wise man is not +sufficient to secure a happy life. Indeed, said he, it is very +<pb n='277'/><anchor id='Pg277'/> +little towards securing a perfectly happy one, but enough for +securing a tolerably happy one. +</p> + +<p> +I have noticed, said he, that you made this distinction a +little while ago, and I know that our friend Antiochus used +to speak in this manner. But what can be less approved of +than the idea of a person being happy, and yet not happy +enough? For when anything is enough, then whatever is +added to that is excess: and no one is too happy: and no +one is happier than a happy man. Therefore, said he, was +not Quintus Metellus, who saw three of his sons consuls, one +of whom was also censor and celebrated a triumph, and a +fourth prætor; and who left them all in safety behind him, +and who saw his three daughters married, having been himself +consul, censor and augur, and having celebrated a +triumph; was he not, I say, in your opinion, (supposing him +to have been a wise man,) happier than Regulus, who being +in the power of the enemy, was put to death by sleeplessness +and hunger, though he may have been equally wise? +</p> + +<p> +XXVIII. Why do you ask me that? said I; ask the Stoics. +What answer, then, said he, do you suppose they will make? +They will say that Metellus was in no respect more happy +than Regulus. Let us, then, said he, hear what they have +got to say. But, said I, we are wandering from our subject; +for I am not asking what is true, but what each person +ought to say. I wish, indeed, that they would say that one +man is happier than another: you should see the ruin I would +make of them. For, as the chief good consists in virtue alone, +and in honourableness; and as neither virtue, as they say, +nor honourableness is capable of growth, and as that alone is +good which makes him who enjoys it necessarily happy, as +that in which alone happiness is placed cannot be increased, +how is it possible that one person can be happier than another? +Do you not see how all these things agree together? And, +in truth, (for I must avow what I feel,) the mutual dependence +of all these things on one another is marvellous: the +last part corresponds to the first, the middle to each extremity, +and each extremity to the other. They see all that follows +from, or is inconsistent with them. In geometry, if you grant +the premises the conclusion follows. Grant that there is +nothing good except what is honourable, and you must grant +that happiness is placed in virtue alone. Try it the other +<pb n='278'/><anchor id='Pg278'/> +way. If you grant this conclusion, you must grant the premises; +but this is not the case with the arguments of your +school. There are three kinds of goods. The assertions go +trippingly on: he comes to the conclusion: he sticks fast: +he is in a difficulty; for he wishes to say, that nothing can +be wanting to a wise man to complete his happiness—a very +honourable sentiment, one worthy of Socrates, or even of +Plato. Well, I do venture to assert that, says he. It is +impossible, unless you remodel your premises: if poverty is +an evil, no beggar can be happy be he ever so wise. But +Zeno ventured to call such a man not only happy, but also +rich. +</p> + +<p> +To be in pain is an evil; the man who is fastened to a cross +cannot be happy. Children are a good; childlessness is an +evil. One's country is a good; exile is an evil. Health is a +good; disease is an evil. Vigour of body is a good; feebleness +is an evil. Clear sight is a good; blindness is an evil. +But, though a man may be able to alleviate any single one of +these evils by consolation, how will he be able to endure them +all? For, suppose one person were blind, feeble, afflicted +with grievous sickness, banished, childless, in indigence, and +put to the torture; what will you call him, Zeno? Happy, +says he. Will you call him most perfectly happy? To be +sure I will, says he, when I have taught him that happiness +does not admit of degrees any more than virtue, the mere +possession of which makes him happy. This seems to you +incredible that he can call him perfectly happy. What is +your own doctrine? is that credible? For if you appeal to the +people, you will never convince them that a man in such a +condition is happy. If you appeal to prudent men, perhaps +they will doubt as to one point, namely, whether there is so +much force in virtue that men endued with that can be happy, +even in Phalaris's bull; but they will not doubt at all that the +Stoic language is consistent with itself and that yours is not. +</p> + +<p> +Do you then, says he, approve of the book of Theophrastus +on a happy life? We are wandering from our subject; and +that I may not be too tedious—if, said I, Piso, those things +are evils, I wholly approve of it. Do not they then, said he, +seem to you to be evils? Do you ask that? said I; whatever +answer I give you, you will find yourself in embarrassment. +How so? said he. Because, if they are evils, a man +<pb n='279'/><anchor id='Pg279'/> +who is affected with them cannot be happy. If they are not +evils, there is an end to the whole system of the Peripatetics. +And he laughing replied, I see what you are at; you are +afraid I shall carry off your pupil. You may carry him off, +said I, if he likes to follow you; for he will still be with me +if he is with you. +</p> + +<p> +XXIX. Listen then, said he, O Lucius; for, as Theophrastus +says, I must direct my discourse to you,—the whole +authority of philosophy consists in making life happy; for +we are all inflamed with a desire of living happily. This, +both your brother and I agree upon. Wherefore we must +see whether the system of the philosophers can give us this. +It promises to do so certainly: for, unless it made that +promise, why did Plato travel over Egypt, to learn numbers +and knowledge of the heavenly mysteries from barbarian +priests? Why afterwards did he go to Tarentum to Archytas; +and to the other Pythagoreans of Locri, Echecrates, Timæus, +and Acrion; in order, after he had drained Socrates to the +dregs, to add the doctrine of the Pythagoreans to his, and to +learn in addition those things which Socrates rejected? Why +did Pythagoras himself travel over Egypt, and visit the +Persian Magi; why did he go on foot over so many countries +of the barbarians, and make so many voyages? Why did +Democritus do the same? who, (whether it is true or false, +we will not stop to inquire,) is said to have put out his own +eyes; certainly, in order that his mind might be abstracted +from contemplation as little as possible; he neglected his +patrimony, and left his lands uncultivated, and what other +object could he have had except a happy life? And if he +placed that in the knowledge of things, still from that investigation +of natural philosophy he sought to acquire equanimity; +for he called the summum bonum εὐθυμία, and very often +ἀθαμβία, that is to say, a mind free from alarm. But, although +this was well said, it was not very elegantly expressed; for +he said very little about virtue, and even what he did say, he +did not express very clearly. For it was not till after his death +that these subjects were discussed in this city, first by Socrates, +and from Socrates they got entrance into the Academy. +Nor was there any doubt that all hope of living well and also +happily was placed in virtue: and when Zeno had learnt +this from our school, he began to express himself on the same +<pb n='280'/><anchor id='Pg280'/> +subject in another manner, as lawyers do on trials. And now +you approve of this conduct in him. Will you then say that +he by changing the names of things escaped the charge of +inconsistency, and yet not allow us to do so too? +</p> + +<p> +He asserts that the life of Metellus was not happier than +that of Regulus, but admits that it was preferable to it; he +says it was not more to be sought after, but still to be +taken in preference; and that if one had a choice, one would +choose the life of Metellus, and reject that of Regulus. What +then he calls preferable, and worthy to be chosen in preference, +I call happier; and yet I do not attribute more +importance to that sort of life than the Stoics do. For what +difference is there between us, except that I call well-known +things by well-known names, and that they seek for new +terms to express the same ideas? And so, as there is always +some one in the senate who wants an interpreter, we, too, +must listen to them with an interpreter. I call that good +which is in accordance with nature; and whatever is contrary +to nature I call evil. Nor do I alone use the definition; you +do also, O Chrysippus, in the forum and at home; but in the +school you discard it. What then? Do you think that men +in general ought to speak in one way, and philosophers in +another, as to the importance of which everything is? that +learned men should hold one language, and unlearned ones +another? But as learned men are agreed of how much importance +everything is, (if they were men, they would speak +in the usual fashion,) why, as long as they leave the facts +alone, they are welcome to mould the names according to +their fancy. +</p> + +<p> +XXX. But I come now to the charge of inconsistency, that +you may not repeat that I am making digressions; which +you think exist only in language, but which I used to consider +depended on the subject of which one was speaking. If +it is sufficiently perceived (and here we have most excellent +assistance from the Stoics), that the power of virtue is so +great, that if everything else were put on the opposite side, it +would not be even visible, when all things which they admit +at least to be advantages, and to deserve to be taken, and +chosen, and preferred, and which they define as worthy of +being highly estimated; when, I say, I call these things +goods which have so many names given them by the Stoics, +<pb n='281'/><anchor id='Pg281'/> +some of which are new, and invented expressly for them, such +as <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>producta</foreign> +and <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>reducta</foreign>, and some of which are merely +synonymous; (for what difference can it make whether you +wish for a thing or choose it? that which is chosen, and on +which deliberate choice is exercised, appears to me to be the +better) still, when I have called all these things goods, the +question is merely how great goods I call them; when I say +they deserved to be wished for, the question is,—how eagerly? +</p> + +<p> +But, if I do not attribute more importance to them when +I say that they deserve to be wished for, than you do who +say they only deserve to be chosen, and if I do not value +them more highly when I call them <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>bona</foreign>, +than you, when you speak of them as +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>producta</foreign>; then all these things must +inevitably be involved in obscurity, and put out of sight, and +lost amid the rays of virtue like stars in the sunbeams. But +that life in which there is any evil cannot be happy. Then +a corn-field full of thick and heavy ears of corn is not a corn-field +if you see any tares anywhere; nor is traffic gainful if, +amid the greatest gains, you incur the most trifling loss. Do +we ever act on different principles in any circumstances of +life; and will you not judge of the whole from its greatest +part? or is there any doubt that virtue is so much the most +important thing in all human affairs, that it throws all the +rest into the shade? +</p> + +<p> +I will venture, then, to call the rest of the things which +are in accordance with nature, goods, and not to cheat them +of their ancient title, rather than go and hunt for some new +name for them; and the dignity of virtue I will put, as it +were, in the other scale of the balance. Believe me, that +scale will outweigh both earth and sea; for the whole +always has its name from that which embraces its largest +part, and is the most widely diffused. We say that one man +lives merrily. Is there, then, an end of this merry life of his +if he is for a moment a little poor? +</p> + +<p> +But, in the case of that Marcus Crassus, who, Lucilius +says, laughed once in his life, the fact of his having done so +did not deliver him from being called ἀγέλαστος. They call +Polycrates of Samos happy. Nothing had ever happened to +him which he did not like, except that he had thrown into +the sea a ring which he valued greatly; therefore he was +unhappy as to that one annoyance; but subsequently he was +<pb n='282'/><anchor id='Pg282'/> +happy again when that same ring was found in the belly of a +fish. But he, if he was unwise (which he certainly was, since +he was a tyrant), was never happy; if he was wise he was not +miserable, even at the time when he was crucified by Orœtes, +the lieutenant of Darius. But he had great evils inflicted on +him. Who denies that?—but those evils were overcome by +the greatness of his virtue. +</p> + +<p> +XXXI. Do you not grant even this to the Peripatetics, +that they may say that the life of all good, that is, of all wise +men, and of men adorned with every virtue, has in all its +parts more good than evil? Who says this? The Stoics +may say so. By no means. But do not those very men +who measure everything by pleasure and pain, say loudly +that the wise man has always more things which he likes than +dislikes? When, then, these men attribute so much to virtue, +who confess that they would not even lift a finger for the +sake of virtue, if it did not bring pleasure with it, what ought +we to do, who say that ever so inconsiderable an excellence +of mind is so superior to all the goods of the body, that they +are put wholly out of sight by it? For who is there who can +venture to say, that it can happen to a wise man (even if +such a thing were possible) to discard virtue for ever, with a +view of being released from all pain? Who of our school, +who are not ashamed to call those things evils which the +Stoics call only bitter, would say that it was better to do +anything dishonourably with pleasure than honourably with +pain? To us, indeed, Dionysius of Heraclea appears to have +deserted the Stoics in a shameful manner, on account of the +pain of his eyes; as if he had learnt from Zeno not to be in +pain when he was in pain. He had heard, but he had not +learnt, that it was not an evil, because it was not dishonourable, +and because it might be borne by a man. If he had +been a Peripatetic he would, I suppose, have adhered to his +opinion, since they say that pain is an evil. And with +respect to bearing its bitterness, they give the same precepts +as the Stoics; and, indeed, your friend Arcesilas, although +he was a rather pertinacious arguer, was still on our side; +for he was a pupil of Polemo; and when he was suffering +under the pain of the gout, and Carneades, a most intimate +friend of Epicurus, had come to see him, and was going away +very melancholy, said, <q>Stay awhile, I entreat you, friend +<pb n='283'/><anchor id='Pg283'/> +Carneades; for the pain does not reach here,</q> showing his +feet and his breast. Still he would have preferred being out +of pain. +</p> + +<p> +XXXII. This, then, is our doctrine, which appears to you +to be inconsistent, since, by reason of a certain heavenly, +divine, and inexpressible excellence of virtue, so great, that +wherever virtue and great, desirable, and praiseworthy +exploits done by virtue are, there misery and grief cannot +be, but nevertheless labour and annoyance can be, I do not +hesitate to affirm that all wise men are always happy, but +still, that it is possible that one man may be more happy +than another. +</p> + +<p> +But this is exactly the assertion, Piso, said I, which you +are bound to prove over and over again; and if you establish +it, then you may take with you not only my young Cicero +here, but me too. Then, said Quintus, it appears to me that +this has been sufficiently proved. I am glad, indeed, that +philosophy, the treasures of which I have been used to value +above the possession of everything else (so rich did it appear +to me, that I could ask of it whatever I desired to know in +our studies),—I rejoice, therefore, that it has been found more +acute than all other arts, for it was in acuteness that some +people asserted that it was deficient. Not a mite more so +than ours, surely, said Pomponius, jestingly. But, seriously, +I have been very much pleased with what you have said; for +what I did not think could be expressed in Latin has been +expressed by you, and that no less clearly than by the Greeks, +and in not less well adapted language. But it is time to +depart, if you please; and let us go to my house. +</p> + +<p> +And when he had said this, as it appeared that we had +discussed the subject sufficiently, we all went into the town +to the house of Pomponius. +</p> + +</div> + +</div> + +<pb n='284'/><anchor id='Pg284'/> + +<div rend='page-break-before: always'> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>The Tusculan Disputations.</head> + +<div> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>Introduction.</head> + +<p> +In the year <hi rend='smallcaps'>a.u.c.</hi> 708, and the 62d year of Cicero's age, his +daughter, Tullia, died in childbed; and her loss afflicted Cicero +to such a degree that he abandoned all public business, and, +leaving the city, retired to Asterra, which was a country house +that he had near Antium; where, after a while, he devoted +himself to philosophical studies, and, besides other works, he +published his Treatise de Finibus, and also this Treatise called +the Tusculan Disputations, of which Middleton gives this concise +description:— +</p> + +<p> +<q rend='pre'>The first book teaches us how to contemn the terrors of +death, and to look upon it as a blessing rather than an evil;</q> +</p> + +<p> +<q rend='pre'>The second, to support pain and affliction with a manly +fortitude;</q> +</p> + +<p> +<q rend='pre'>The third, to appease all our complaints and uneasinesses +under the accidents of life;</q> +</p> + +<p> +<q rend='pre'>The fourth, to moderate all our other passions;</q> +</p> + +<p> +<q>And the fifth explains the sufficiency of virtue to make +men happy.</q> +</p> + +<p> +It was his custom in the opportunities of his leisure to take +some friends with him into the country, where, instead of +amusing themselves with idle sports or feasts, their diversions +were wholly speculative, tending to improve the mind and +enlarge the understanding. In this manner he now spent five +days at his Tusculan villa in discussing with his friends the +several questions just mentioned. For, after employing the +mornings in declaiming and rhetorical exercises, they used to +retire in the afternoon into a gallery, called the Academy, +which he had built for the purpose of philosophical conferences, +where, after the manner of the Greeks, he held a +school as they called it, and invited the company to call for any +subject that they desired to hear explained, which being proposed +accordingly by some of the audience became immediately +<pb n='285'/><anchor id='Pg285'/> +the argument of that day's debate. These five conferences or +dialogues he collected afterwards into writing in the very +words and manner in which they really passed; and published +them under the title of his Tusculan Disputations, from the +name of the villa in which they were held. +</p> + +</div> + +<div> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>Book I. On The Contempt Of Death.</head> + +<p> +I. At a time when I had entirely, or to a great degree, +released myself from my labours as an advocate, and from my +duties as a senator, I had recourse again, Brutus, principally +by your advice, to those studies which never had been out of +my mind, although neglected at times, and which after a long +interval I resumed: and now since the principles and rules +of all arts which relate to living well depend on the study of +wisdom, which is called philosophy, I have thought it an employment +worthy of me to illustrate them in the Latin tongue: +not because philosophy could not be understood in the Greek +language, or by the teaching of Greek masters; but it has +always been my opinion, that our countrymen have, in some +instances, made wiser discoveries than the Greeks, with reference +to those subjects which they have considered worthy of +devoting their attention to, and in others have improved upon +their discoveries, so that in one way or other we surpass them +on every point: for, with regard to the manners and habits of +private life, and family and domestic affairs, we certainly +manage them with more elegance, and better than they did; +and as to our republic, that our ancestors have, beyond all +dispute, formed on better customs and laws. What shall I +say of our military affairs; in which our ancestors have been +most eminent in valour, and still more so in discipline? As +to those things which are attained not by study, but nature, +neither Greece, nor any nation, is comparable to us: for what +people has displayed such gravity, such steadiness, such greatness +of soul, probity, faith—such distinguished virtue of every +kind, as to be equal to our ancestors. In learning, indeed, +and all kinds of literature, Greece did excel us, and it was +<pb n='286'/><anchor id='Pg286'/> +easy to do so where there was no competition; for while +amongst the Greeks the poets were the most ancient species +of learned men,—since Homer and Hesiod lived before the +foundation of Rome, and Archilochus<note place='foot'><p>Archilochus +was a native of Paros, and flourished about 714-676, +<hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> His poems were chiefly Iambics of bitter satire. Horace +speaks of him as the inventor of Iambics, and calls himself his pupil. +</p> +<p> +Parios ego primus Iambos<lb/> +Ostendi Latio, numeros animosque secutus<lb/> +Archilochi, non res et agentia verba Lycamben. +</p> +<p> +Epist. I. xix. 25. +</p> +<p> +And in another place he says— +</p> +<p> +Archilochum proprio rabies armavit Iambo.—A. P. 74. +</p></note> was a contemporary of +Romulus,—we received poetry much later. For it was about +five hundred and ten years after the building of Rome before +Livius<note place='foot'>This was Livius Andronicus: he is supposed to have been a native +of Tarentum, and he was made prisoner by the Romans, during their +wars in Southern Italy; owing to which he became the slave of +M. Livius Salinator. He wrote both comedies and tragedies, of which +Cicero (Brutus 18) speaks very contemptuously, as <q>Livianæ fabulæ +non satis dignæ quæ iterum legantur,</q>—not worth reading a second +time. He also wrote a Latin Odyssey, and some hymns, and died probably +about <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 221.</note> published a play in the consulship of +C. Claudius, the son of Cæcus, and M. Tuditanus, a year before the birth of +Ennius, who was older than Plautus and Nævius. +</p> + +<p> +II. It was, therefore, late before poets were either known +or received amongst us; though we find in Cato de Originibus +that the guests used, at their entertainments, to sing the +praises of famous men to the sound of the flute; but a speech +of Cato's shows this kind of poetry to have been in no great +esteem, as he censures Marcus Nobilior, for carrying poets +with him into his province: for that consul, as we know, +carried Ennius with him into Ætolia. Therefore the less +esteem poets were in, the less were those studies pursued: +though even then those who did display the greatest abilities +that way, were not very inferior to the Greeks. Do we imagine +that if it had been considered commendable in Fabius,<note place='foot'>C. Fabius, +surnamed Pictor, painted the temple of Salus, which the +dictator C. Junius Brutus Bubulus dedicated <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 302. The temple +was destroyed by fire in the reign of Claudius. The painting is highly +praised by Dionysius, xvi. 6.</note> a man +of the highest rank, to paint, we should not have had many +<pb n='287'/><anchor id='Pg287'/> +Polycleti and Parrbasii. Honour nourishes art, and glory is +the spur with all to studies; while those studies are always +neglected in every nation, which are looked upon disparagingly. +The Greeks held skill in vocal and instrumental +music as a very important accomplishment, and therefore it +is recorded of Epaminondas, who, in my opinion, was the +greatest man amongst the Greeks, that he played excellently +on the flute; and Themistocles some years before was deemed +ignorant because at an entertainment he declined the lyre +when it was offered to him. For this reason musicians +flourished in Greece; music was a general study; and whoever +was unacquainted with it, was not considered as fully +instructed in learning. Geometry was in high esteem with +them, therefore none were more honourable than mathematicians; +but we have confined this art to bare measuring and +calculating. +</p> + +<p> +III. But on the contrary, we early entertained an esteem +for the orator; though he was not at first a man of learning, +but only quick at speaking; in subsequent times he became +learned; for it is reported that Galba, Africanus, and Lælius, +were men of learning; and that even Cato, who preceded +them in point of time, was a studious man: then succeeded +the Lepidi, Carbo, and Gracchi, and so many great orators +after them, down to our own times, that we were very little, +if at all, inferior to the Greeks. Philosophy has been at a +low ebb even to this present time, and has had no assistance +from our own language, and so now I have undertaken to +raise and illustrate it, in order that, as I have been of service +to my countrymen, when employed on public affairs, I may, +if possible, be so likewise in my retirement; and in this I +must take the more pains, because there are already many +books in the Latin language which are said to be written +inaccurately, having been composed by excellent men, only +not of sufficient learning: for indeed it is possible that a man +may think well, and yet not be able to express his thoughts +elegantly; but for any one to publish thoughts which he can +neither arrange skilfully nor illustrate so as to entertain his +reader, is an unpardonable abuse of letters and retirement: +they, therefore, read their books to one another, and no one +ever takes them up but those who wish to have the same +licence for careless writing allowed to themselves. Wherefore, +<pb n='288'/><anchor id='Pg288'/> +if oratory has acquired any reputation from my industry, +I shall take the more pains to open the fountains +of philosophy, from which all my eloquence has taken its +rise. +</p> + +<p> +IV. But, as Aristotle,<note place='foot'>For an account of +the ancient Greek philosophers, see the sketch at the end of +the volume.</note> a man of the greatest genius, and of +the most various knowledge, being excited by the glory of the +rhetorician Isocrates,<note place='foot'>Isocrates was born at +Athens, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 436. He was a pupil of Gorgias, +Prodicus and Socrates. He opened a school of rhetoric, at Athens, with +great success. He died by his own hand at the age of 98.</note> +commenced teaching young men to +speak, and joined philosophy with eloquence: so it is my +design not to lay aside my former study of oratory, and yet to +employ myself at the same time in this greater and more +fruitful art; for I have always thought, that to be able to +speak copiously and elegantly on the most important questions, +was the most perfect philosophy. And I have so +diligently applied myself to this pursuit that I have already +ventured to have a school like the Greeks. And lately when +you left us, having many of my friends about me, I attempted +at my Tusculan villa what I could do in that way; for as I +formerly used to practise declaiming, which nobody continued +longer than myself, so this is now to be the declamation of +my old age. I desired any one to propose a question which +he wished to have discussed: and then I argued that point +either sitting or walking, and so I have compiled the scholæ, +as the Greeks call them, of five days, in as many books. We +proceeded in this manner: when he who had proposed the +subject for discussion had said what he thought proper, I +spoke against him; for this is, you know, the old and Socratic +method of arguing against another's opinion; for Socrates +thought that thus the truth would more easily be arrived at. +But to give you a better notion of our disputations, I will not +barely send you an account of them, but represent them to +you as they were carried on; therefore let the introduction be +thus:— +</p> + +<p> +V. <hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> To me death seems to be an evil. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> What to those who are already dead? or to those who +must die? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> To both. +</p> + +<pb n='289'/><anchor id='Pg289'/> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> It is a misery then, because an evil? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Certainly. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Then those who have already died, and those who have +still got to die, are both miserable? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> So it appears to me. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Then all are miserable? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Every one. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> And, indeed, if you wish to be consistent, all that are +already born, or ever shall be, are not only miserable, but +always will be so; for should you maintain those only to be +miserable, you would not except any one living, for all must +die; but there should be an end of misery in death. But +seeing that the dead are miserable, we are born to eternal +misery, for they must of consequence be miserable who died a +hundred thousand years ago; or rather, all that have ever +been born. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> So, indeed, I think. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Tell me, I beseech you, are you afraid of the three-headed +Cerberus in the shades below, and the roaring waves +of Cocytus, and the passage over Acheron, and Tantalus +expiring with thirst, while the water touches his chin; and +Sisyphus, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Who sweats with arduous toil in vain</l> +<l>The steepy summit of the mount to gain?</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Perhaps, too, you dread the inexorable judges, Minos and +Rhadamanthus; before whom neither L. Crassus, nor M. Antonius +can defend you; and where, since the cause lies before +Grecian judges, you will not even be able to employ Demosthenes: +but you must plead for yourself before a very great +assembly. These things perhaps you dread, and therefore look +on death as an eternal evil. +</p> + +<p> +VI. <hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Do you take me to be so imbecile as to give credit +to such things? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> What? do you not believe them? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Not in the least. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I am sorry to hear that. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Why, I beg? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Because I could have been very eloquent in speaking +against them. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> And who could not on such a subject? or, what trouble +<pb n='290'/><anchor id='Pg290'/> +is it to refute these monstrous inventions of the poets and +painters?<note place='foot'><p>So Horace joins +these two classes as inventors of all kinds of improbable +fictions— +</p> +<p> +Pictoribus atque poetis<lb/> +Quidlibet audendi semper fuit æqua potestas.—A. P. 9. +</p> +<p> +Which Roscommon translates— +</p> +<p> +Painters and poets have been still allow'd<lb/> +Their pencil and their fancies unconfined. +</p></note> +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> And yet you have books of philosophers full of arguments +against these. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> A great waste of time, truly! for, who is so weak as to +be concerned about them? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> If, then, there is no one miserable in the infernal +regions, there can be no one there at all. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I am altogether of that opinion. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Where, then, are those you call miserable? or what +place do they inhabit? for, if they exist at all, they must be +somewhere? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I, indeed, am of opinion that they are nowhere. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Then they have no existence at all. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Even so, and yet they are miserable for this very +reason, that they have no existence. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I had rather now have you afraid of Cerberus, than +speak thus inaccurately. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> In what respect? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Because you admit him to exist whose existence you +deny with the same breath. Where now is your sagacity? +when you say any one is miserable, you say that he who +does not exist, does exist. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I am not so absurd as to say that. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> What is it that you do say, then? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I say, for instance, that Marcus Crassus is miserable in +being deprived of such great riches as his by death; that +Cn. Pompey is miserable, in being taken from such glory and +honour; and in short, that all are miserable who are deprived +of this light of life. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> You have returned to the same point, for to be miserable +implies an existence; but you just now denied that the +dead had any existence; if, then, they have not, they can be +nothing; and if so, they are not even miserable. +</p> + +<pb n='291'/><anchor id='Pg291'/> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Perhaps I do not express what I mean, for I look upon +this very circumstance, not to exist after having existed, to +be very miserable. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> What, more so than not to have existed at all? therefore, +those who are not yet born, are miserable because they +are not; and we ourselves, if we are to be miserable after +death, were miserable before we were born: but I do not +remember that I was miserable before I was born; and +I should be glad to know, if your memory is better, what +you recollect of yourself before you were born. +</p> + +<p> +VII. <hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> You are pleasant; as if I had said that those men +are miserable who are not born, and not that they are so who +are dead. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> You say, then, that they are so? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Yes, I say that because they no longer exist after +having existed, they are miserable. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> You do not perceive, that you are asserting contradictions; +for what is a greater contradiction, than that they +should be not only miserable, but should have any existence +at all, which does not exist? When you go out at the Capene +gate and see the tombs of the Calatini, the Scipios, Servilii, +and Metelli, do you look on them as miserable? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Because you press me with a word, henceforward I will +not say they are miserable absolutely, but miserable on this +account, because they have no existence. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> You do not say, then, <q>M. Crassus is miserable,</q> but +only <q>Miserable M. Crassus.</q> +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Exactly so. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> As if it did not follow, that whatever you speak of in +that manner, either is or is not. Are you not acquainted +with the first principles of logic? for this is the first thing +they lay down, Whatever is asserted, (for that is the best way +that occurs to me, at the moment, of rendering the Greek term, +ἀξίομα, if I can think of a more accurate expression hereafter +I will use it,) is asserted as being either true or false. When, +therefore, you say, <q>Miserable M. Crassus,</q> you either say +this, <q>M. Crassus is miserable,</q> so that some judgment may +be made whether it is true or false, or you say nothing at all. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Well, then, I now own that the dead are not miserable, +since you have drawn from me a concession, that they who +do not exist at all, cannot be miserable. What then? we that +<pb n='292'/><anchor id='Pg292'/> +are alive, are we not wretched, seeing we must die? for what +is there agreeable in life, when we must night and day reflect +that, at some time or other, we must die? +</p> + +<p> +VIII. <hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Do you not, then, perceive how great is the evil +from which you have delivered human nature? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> By what means? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Because, if to die were miserable to the dead, to live +would be a kind of infinite and eternal misery: now, however, +I see a goal, and when I have reached it, there is nothing +more to be feared; but you seem to me to follow the opinion +of Epicharmus,<note place='foot'>Epicharmus was a native of Cos, but lived at Megara, in +Sicily, and when Megara was destroyed, removed to Syracuse, and lived at the +court of Hiero, where he became the first writer of comedies, so that +Horace ascribes the invention of comedy to him, and so does Theocritus. +He lived to a great age.</note> a man of some discernment, and sharp enough +for a Sicilian. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> What opinion? for I do not recollect it. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I will tell you if I can in Latin, for you know I am no +more used to bring in Latin sentences in a Greek discourse, +than Greek in a Latin one. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> And that is right enough: but what is that opinion of +Epicharmus? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>I would not die, but yet</l> +<l>Am not concerned that I shall be dead.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I now recollect the Greek, but since you have obliged +me to grant that the dead are not miserable, proceed to convince +me that it is not miserable to be under a necessity of +dying. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> That is easy enough, but I have greater things in hand. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> How comes that to be so easy? and what are those +things of more consequence? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Thus: because, if there is no evil after death, then +even death itself can be none; for that which immediately +succeeds that is a state where you grant that there is no evil; +so that even to be obliged to die can be no evil; for that is +only the being obliged to arrive at a place where we allow that +no evil is. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I beg you will be more explicit on this point, for these +subtle arguments force me sooner to admissions than to conviction. +But what are those more important things about +which you say that you are occupied? +</p> + +<pb n='293'/><anchor id='Pg293'/> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> To teach you, if I can, that death is not only no evil, +but a good. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I do not insist on that, but should be glad to hear you +argue it, for even though you should not prove your point, +yet you will prove that death is no evil: but I will not interrupt +you, I would rather hear a continued discourse. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> What, if I should ask you a question, would you not +answer? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> That would look like pride; but I would rather you +should not ask but where necessity requires. +</p> + +<p> +IX. <hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I will comply with your wishes, and explain as +well as I can, what you require; but not with any idea that, +like the Pythian Apollo, what I say must needs be certain and +indisputable; but as a mere man, endeavouring to arrive at +probabilities by conjecture, for I have no ground to proceed +further on than probability. Those men may call their +statements indisputable who assert that what they say can be +perceived by the senses, and who proclaim themselves philosophers +by profession. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Do as you please, we are ready to hear you. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> The first thing, then, is to inquire what death, which +seems to be so well understood, really is; for some imagine +death to be the departure of the soul from the body; others +think that there is no such departure, but that soul and body +perish together, and that, the soul is extinguished with +the body. Of those who think that the soul does depart +from the body, some believe in its immediate dissolution; +others fancy that it continues to exist for a time; and others +believe that it lasts for ever. There is great dispute even what +the soul is, where it is, and whence it is derived: with some, +the heart itself (cor) seems to be the soul, hence the expressions, +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>excordes</foreign>, +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>vecordes</foreign>, +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>concordes</foreign>; and that prudent Nasica, +who was twice consul, was called Corculus, <hi rend='italic'>i.e.</hi> wise-heart; +and Ælius Sextus is described as <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>Egregie +cordatus homo, catus Æliu' Sextus</foreign>—that +great <emph>wise-hearted</emph> man, sage Ælius. +Empedocles imagines the blood, which is suffused over the +heart, to be the soul; to others, a certain part of the brain +seems to be the throne of the soul; others neither allow the +heart itself, nor any portion of the brain, to be the soul; but +think either that the heart is the seat and abode of the soul; +or else that the brain is so. Some would have the soul, or +<pb n='294'/><anchor id='Pg294'/> +spirit, to be the <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>anima</foreign>, +as our schools generally agree; and +indeed the name signifies as much, for we use the expressions +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>animam agere</foreign>, to live; +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>animam efflare</foreign>, to expire; +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>animosi</foreign>, +men of spirit; <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>bene animati</foreign>, +men of right feeling; <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>exanimi +sententia</foreign>, according to our real opinion—and the very word +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>animus</foreign> is derived from +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>anima</foreign>. Again, the soul seems to +Zeno the Stoic to be fire. +</p> + +<p> +X. But what I have said as to the heart, the blood, the +brain, air, or fire being the soul, are common opinions: the +others are only entertained by individuals; and indeed there +were many amongst the ancients who held singular opinions +on this subject, of whom the latest was Aristoxenus, a man +who was both a musician and a philosopher; he maintained a +certain straining of the body, like what is called harmony in +music, to be the soul; and believed that, from the figure and +nature of the whole body, various motions are excited, as +sounds are from an instrument. He adhered steadily to his +system, and yet he said something, the nature of which, whatever +it was, had been detailed and explained a great while +before by Plato. Xenocrates denied that the soul had any +figure, or anything like a body; but said it was a number, +the power of which, as Pythagoras had fancied, some ages +before, was the greatest in nature: his master, Plato, imagined +a three-fold soul; a dominant portion of which, that +is to say, reason, he had lodged in the head, as in a tower; +and the other two parts, namely, anger and desire, he made +subservient to this one, and allotted them distinct abodes, +placing anger in the breast, and desire under the præcordia. +But Dicæarchus, in that discourse of some learned disputants, +held at Corinth, which he details to us in three books; in the +first book introduces many speakers; and in the other two +he introduces a certain Pherecrates, an old man of Phthia, +who, as he said, was descended from Deucalion; asserting, +that there is in fact no such thing at all as a soul; but that +it is a name, without a meaning; and that it is idle to use +the expression, <q>animals,</q> or <q>animated beings;</q> that neither +men nor beasts have minds or souls; but that all that power, +by which we act or perceive, is equally infused into every +living creature, and is inseparable from the body, for if it were +not, it would be nothing; nor is there anything whatever +really existing except body, which is a single and simple +<pb n='295'/><anchor id='Pg295'/> +thing, so fashioned, as to live and have its sensations in +consequence of the regulations of nature. Aristotle, a man +superior to all others, both in genius and industry (I always +except Plato), after having embraced these four known sorts +of principles, from which all things deduce their origin, imagines +that there is a certain fifth nature, from whence comes +the soul; for to think, to foresee, to learn, to teach, to invent +anything, and many other attributes of the same kind, such as, +to remember, to love, to hate, to desire, to fear, to be pleased +or displeased; these, and others like them, exist, he thinks, +in none of those first four kinds: on such account he adds +a fifth kind, which has no name, and so by a new name he +calls the soul ἐνδελέχια, as if it were a certain continued and +perpetual motion. +</p> + +<p> +XI. If I have not forgotten anything unintentionally, +these are the principal opinions concerning the soul. I have +omitted Democritus, a very great man indeed, but one who +deduces the soul from the fortuitous concourse of small, +light, and round substances; for, if you believe men of his +school, there is nothing which a crowd of atoms cannot +effect. Which of these opinions is true, some god must +determine. It is an important question for us, which has +the most appearance of truth. Shall we, then, prefer determining +between them, or shall we return to our subject? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I could wish both, if possible; but it is difficult to mix +them; therefore, if without a discussion of them we can get +rid of the fears of death, let us proceed to do so; but if this +is not to be done without explaining the question about souls, +let us have that now, and the other at another time. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I take that plan to be the best, which I perceive you +are inclined to; for reason will demonstrate that, whichever of +the opinions which I have stated is true, it must follow, then, +that death cannot be an evil; or that it must rather be +something desirable, for if either the heart, or the blood, or +the brain, is the soul, then certainly the soul, being corporeal, +must perish with the rest of the body; if it is air, it will +perhaps be dissolved; if it is fire, it will be extinguished; if +it is Aristoxenus's harmony, it will be put out of tune. What +shall I say of Dicæarchus, who denies that there is any soul? +In all these opinions, there is nothing to affect any one after +death; for all feeling is lost with life, and where there is no +<pb n='296'/><anchor id='Pg296'/> +sensation, nothing can interfere to affect us. The opinions of +others do indeed bring us hope; if it is any pleasure to you +to think that souls, after they leave the body, may go to +heaven as to a permanent home. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I have great pleasure in that thought, and it is what I +most desire; and even if it should not be so, I should still be +very willing to believe it. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> What occasion have you, then, for my assistance? am I +superior to Plato in eloquence? Turn over carefully his book +that treats of the soul, you will have there all that you can +want. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I have, indeed, done that, and often; but, I know not how +it comes to pass, I agree with it whilst I am reading it, but +when I have laid down the book, and begin to reflect with myself +on the immortality of the soul, all that agreement vanishes. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> How comes that? do you admit this, that souls either +exist after death, or else that they also perish at the moment +of death? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I agree to that. And if they do exist, I admit that they +are happy; but if they perish, I cannot suppose them to be +unhappy, because, in fact, they have no existence at all. You +drove me to that concession but just now. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> How, then, can you, or why do you, assert that you think +that death is an evil, when it either makes us happy, in the case +of the soul continuing to exist, or, at all events, not unhappy, +in the case of our becoming destitute of all sensation. +</p> + +<p> +XII. <hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Explain, therefore, if it is not troublesome to you, +first, if you can, that souls do exist after death; secondly, +should you fail in that, (and it is a very difficult thing to +establish,) that death is free from all evil; for I am not +without my fears that this itself is an evil; I do not mean +the immediate deprivation of sense, but the fact that we shall +hereafter suffer deprivation. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I have the best authority in support of the opinion you +desire to have established, which ought, and generally has, +great weight in all cases. And first, I have all antiquity on +that side, which the more near it is to its origin and divine +descent, the more clearly, perhaps, on that account did it discern +the truth in these matters. This very doctrine, then, was +adopted by all those ancients, whom Ennius calls in the Sabine +tongue, Casci, namely, that in death there was a sensation, and +<pb n='297'/><anchor id='Pg297'/> +that, when men departed this life, they were not so entirely +destroyed as to perish absolutely. And this may appear from +many other circumstances, and especially from the pontifical +rites and funeral obsequies, which men of the greatest genius +would not have been so solicitous about, and would not have +guarded from any injury by such severe laws, but from a +firm persuasion that death was not so entire a destruction as +wholly to abolish and destroy everything, but rather a kind +of transmigration, as it were, and change of life, which was, +in the case of illustrious men and women, usually a guide to +heaven, while in that of others, it was still confined to the +earth, but in such a manner as still to exist. From this, and +the sentiments of the Romans, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +In heaven Romulus with Gods now lives; +</quote> + +<p> +as Ennius saith, agreeing with the common belief; hence, too +Hercules is considered so great and propitious a god amongst +the Greeks, and from them he was introduced among us, and +his worship has extended even to the very ocean itself. This +is how it was that Bacchus was deified, the offspring of +Semele; and from the same illustrious fame we receive Castor +and Pollux as gods, who are reported not only to have helped +the Romans to victory in their battles, but to have been the +messengers of their success. What shall we say of Ino, the +daughter of Cadmus? is she not called Leucothea by the +Greeks, and Matuta by us? Nay more; is not the whole of +heaven (not to dwell on particulars) almost filled with the +offspring of men? +</p> + +<p> +Should I attempt to search into antiquity, and produce +from thence what the Greek writers have asserted, it would +appear that even those who are called their principal gods, +were taken from among men up into heaven. +</p> + +<p> +XIII. Examine the sepulchres of those which are shown +in Greece; recollect, for you have been initiated, what lessons +are taught in the mysteries; then will you perceive how extensive +this doctrine is. But they who were not acquainted +with natural philosophy, (for it did not begin to be in +vogue till many years later,) had no higher belief than what +natural reason could give them; they were not acquainted +with the principles and causes of things; they were often +induced by certain visions, and those generally in the night, +to think that those men, who had departed from this life, were +<pb n='298'/><anchor id='Pg298'/> +still alive. And this may further be brought as an irrefragable +argument for us to believe that there are gods,—that there +never was any nation so barbarous, nor any people in +the world so savage, as to be without some notion of gods: +many have wrong notions of the gods, for that is the nature +and ordinary consequence of bad customs, yet all allow that +there is a certain divine nature and energy. Nor does this +proceed from the conversation of men, or the agreement of +philosophers; it is not an opinion established by institutions +or by laws; but, no doubt, in every case the consent of all +nations is to be looked on as a law of nature. Who is there, +then, that does not lament the loss of his friends, principally +from imagining them deprived of the conveniences of life? +Take away this opinion, and you remove with it all grief; for +no one is afflicted merely on account of a loss sustained by +himself. Perhaps we may be sorry, and grieve a little; but +that bitter lamentation, and those mournful tears, have their +origin in our apprehensions that he whom we loved is +deprived of all the advantages of life, and is sensible of his +loss. And we are led to this opinion by nature, without any +arguments or any instruction. +</p> + +<p> +XIV. But the greatest proof of all is, that nature herself +gives a silent judgment in favour of the immortality of the +soul, inasmuch as all are anxious, and that to a great degree, +about the things which concern futurity;— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +One plants what future ages shall enjoy, +</quote> + +<p> +as Statius saith in his Synephebi. What is his object in doing +so, except that he is interested in posterity? Shall the industrious +husbandman, then, plant trees the fruit of which he +shall never see? and shall not the great man found laws, +institutions, and a republic? What does the procreation of +children imply—and our care to continue our names—and +our adoptions—and our scrupulous exactness in drawing up +wills—and the inscriptions on monuments, and panegyrics, but +that our thoughts run on futurity? There is no doubt but +a judgment may be formed of nature in general, from looking +at each nature in its most perfect specimens; and what is a +more perfect specimen of a man, than those are who look on +themselves as born for the assistance, the protection, and the +preservation of others? Hercules has gone to heaven; he +never would have gone thither, had he not, whilst amongst +<pb n='299'/><anchor id='Pg299'/> +men, made that road for himself. These things are of old +date, and have, besides, the sanction of universal religion. +</p> + +<p> +XV. What will you say? what do you imagine that so many +and such great men of our republic, who have sacrificed their +lives for its good, expected? Do you believe that they +thought that their names should not continue beyond their +lives? None ever encountered death for their country, but +under a firm persuasion of immortality! Themistocles might +have lived at his ease; so might Epaminondas; and, not to +look abroad and amongst the ancients for instances, so might +I myself. But, somehow or other, there clings to our minds +a certain presage of future ages; and this both exists most +firmly and appears most clearly, in men of the loftiest genius +and greatest souls. Take away this, and who would be so +mad as to spend his life amidst toils and dangers? I speak +of those in power. What are the poet's views but to be +ennobled after death? What else is the object of these +lines— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Behold old Ennius here, who erst</l> +<l>Thy fathers' great exploits rehearsed?</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +He is challenging the reward of glory from those men whose +ancestors he himself had ennobled by his poetry. And in +the same spirit he says in another passage— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Let none with tears my funeral grace, for I</l> +<l>Claim from my works an immortality.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Why do I mention poets? the very mechanics are desirous of +fame after death. Why did Phidias include a likeness of himself +in the shield of Minerva, when he was not allowed to +inscribe his name on it? What do our philosophers think +on the subject? do not they put their names to those very +books which they write on the contempt of glory? If, then, +universal consent is the voice of nature, and if it is the +general opinion everywhere, that those who have quitted this +life are still interested in something; we also must subscribe +to that opinion. And if we think that men of the greatest +abilities and virtue see most clearly into the power of nature, +because they themselves are her most perfect work; it is very +probable that, as every great man is especially anxious to +benefit posterity, there is something of which he himself will +be sensible after death. +</p> + +<p> +XVI. But as we are led by nature to think there are gods, +<pb n='300'/><anchor id='Pg300'/> +and as we discover, by reason, of what description they are, +so, by the consent of all nations, we are induced to believe +that our souls survive; but where their habitation is, and of +what character they eventually are, must be learned from +reason. The want of any certain reason on which to argue has +given rise to the idea of the shades below, and to those fears, +which you seem, not without reason, to despise: for as our +bodies fall to the ground, and are covered with earth +(<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>humus</foreign>), +from whence we derive the expression to be interred +(<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>humari</foreign>), +that has occasioned men to imagine that the dead continue, +during the remainder of their existence, under ground; which +opinion has drawn after it many errors, which the poets +have increased; for the theatre, being frequented by a large +crowd, among which are women and children, is wont to be +greatly affected on hearing such pompous verses as these— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Lo! here I am, who scarce could gain this place,</l> +<l>Through stony mountains and a dreary waste;</l> +<l>Through cliffs, whose sharpen'd stones tremendous hung,</l> +<l>Where dreadful darkness spread itself around:</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +and the error prevailed so much, though indeed at present it +seems to me to be removed, that although men knew that +the bodies of the dead had been burned, yet they conceived +such things to be done in the infernal regions as could not +be executed or imagined without a body; for they could not +conceive how disembodied souls could exist; and, therefore, +they looked out for some shape or figure. This was the +origin of all that account of the dead in Homer. This was +the idea that caused my friend Appius to frame his Necromancy; +and this is how there got about that idea of the lake +of Avernus, in my neighbourhood,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>From whence the souls of undistinguish'd shape,</l> +<l>Clad in thick shade, rush from the open gate</l> +<l>Of Acheron, vain phantoms of the dead.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +And they must needs have these appearances speak, which is +not possible without a tongue, and a palate, and jaws, and +without the help of lungs and sides, and without some shape +or figure; for they could see nothing by their mind alone, +they referred all to their eyes. To withdraw the mind from +sensual objects, and abstract our thoughts from what we are +accustomed to, is an attribute of great genius: I am persuaded, +indeed, that there were many such men in former +<pb n='301'/><anchor id='Pg301'/> +ages: but Pherecydes<note place='foot'>Pherecydes was +a native of Scyros, one of the Cyclades; and is said to +have obtained his knowledge from the secret books of the Phœnicians. +He is said also to have been a pupil of Pittacus, the rival of Thales, and +the master of Pythagoras. His doctrine was that there were three principles, +Ζεὺς, or Æther, Χθὼν, or Chaos, and Χρόνος, or Time; and four +elements, Fire, Earth, Air, and Water, from which everything that exists +was formed.—Vide Smith's Dict. Gr., and Rom. Biog.</note> +the Syrian is the first on record who +said that the souls of men were immortal; and he was a +philosopher of great antiquity in the reign of my namesake +Tullus. His disciple Pythagoras greatly confirmed this +opinion, who came into Italy in the reign of Tarquin the +Proud: and all that country which is called Great Greece +was occupied by his school, and he himself was held in high +honour, and had the greatest authority: and the Pythagorean +sect was for many ages after in such great credit, that all +learning was believed to be confined to that name. +</p> + +<p> +XVII. But I return to the ancients. They scarcely ever gave +any reason for their opinion but what could be explained by +numbers or definitions. It is reported of Plato, that he came +into Italy to make himself acquainted with the Pythagoreans; +and that when there, amongst others, he made an +acquaintance with Archytas<note place='foot'><p>Archytas was +a native of Tarentum, and is said to have saved the +life of Plato by his influence with the tyrant Dionysius. He was especially +great as a mathematician and geometrician, so that Horace +calls him +</p> +<p> +Maris et terræ numeroque carentis arenæ<lb/> +Mensorem—Od. i. 28. 1. +</p> +<p> +Plato is supposed to have learnt some of his views from him, and +Aristotle to nave borrowed from him every idea of the Categories.</p></note> +and Timæus,<note place='foot'>This was not +Timæus the historian, but a native of Locri, who is +said also in the De Finibus (c. 29) to have been a teacher of Plato. +There is a treatise extant bearing his name, which is, however, probably +spurious, and only an abridgment of Plato's dialogue Timæus.</note> and learned from +them all the tenets of the Pythagoreans; and that he not +only was of the same opinion with Pythagoras concerning the +immortality of the soul, but that he also brought reasons in +support of it; which, if you have nothing to say against it, I +will pass over, and say no more at present about all this hope +of immortality. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> What, will you leave me when you have raised my +expectations so high? I had rather, so help me Hercules! be +mistaken with Plato, whom I know how much you esteem, +<pb n='302'/><anchor id='Pg302'/> +and whom I admire myself from what you say of him, than +be in the right with those others. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I commend you; for, indeed, I could myself willingly +be mistaken in his company. Do we, then, doubt, as we do in +other cases, (though I think here is very little room for doubt +in this case, for the mathematicians prove the facts to us,) +that the earth is placed in the midst of the world, being as it +were a sort of point, which they call a κέντρον, surrounded by +the whole heavens; and that such is the nature of the four +principles, which are the generating causes of all things, that +they have equally divided amongst them the constituents of +all bodies; moreover that earthy and humid bodies are carried +at equal angles, by their own weight and ponderosity, into the +earth and sea; that the other two parts consist one of fire and +the other of air? As the two former are carried by their gravity +and weight into the middle region of the world; so these, on +the other hand, ascend by right lines into the celestial +regions; either because, owing to their intrinsic nature, they +are always endeavouring to reach the highest place, or else +because lighter bodies are naturally repelled by heavier; and +as this is notoriously the case, it must evidently follow, that +souls, when once they have departed from the body, whether +they are animal, (by which term I mean capable of breathing,) +or of the nature of fire, must mount upwards: but if the soul +is some number, as some people assert, speaking with more +subtlety than clearness, or if it is that fifth nature, for which +it would be more correct to say that we have not given a +name to, than that we do not correctly understand it—still it +is too pure and perfect, not to go to a great distance from +the earth. Something of this sort, then, we must believe the +soul to be, that we may not commit the folly of thinking that +so active a principle lies immerged in the heart or brain; or, +as Empedocles would have it, in the blood. +</p> + +<p> +XVIII. We will pass over Dicæarchus,<note place='foot'>Dicæarchus +was a native of Messana, in Sicily, though he lived +chiefly in Greece; he was one of the later disciples of Aristotle. He +was a great geographer, politician, historian, and philosopher, and died +about <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 285.</note> with his contemporary +and fellow-disciple Aristoxenus,<note place='foot'>Aristoxenus was +a native of Tarentum, and also a pupil of Aristotle. +We know nothing of his opinions except that he held the soul to be a +<emph>harmony</emph> of the body; a doctrine which had been already discussed by +Plato in the Phædo, and combated by Aristotle. He was a great musician, +and the chief portions of his works which have come down to us +are fragments of some musical treatises.—Smith's Dict. Gr. and Rom. +Biog., to which source I must acknowledge my obligation for nearly the +whole of these biographical notes.</note> both indeed men of +<pb n='303'/><anchor id='Pg303'/> +learning. One of them seems never even to have been affected +with grief, as he could not perceive that he had a soul; while +the other is so pleased with his musical compositions, that he +endeavours to show an analogy betwixt them and souls. Now, +we may understand harmony to arise from the intervals of +sounds, whose various compositions occasion many harmonies; +but I do not see how a disposition of members, and the figure +of a body without a soul, can occasion harmony; he had +better, learned as he is, leave these speculations to his master +Aristotle, and follow his own trade, as a musician; good +advice is given him in that Greek proverb,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Apply your talents where you best are skill'd. +</quote> + +<p> +I will have nothing at all to do with that fortuitous concourse +of individual light and round bodies, notwithstanding Democritus +insists on their being warm, and having breath, that is +to say, life. But this soul, which is compounded of either of +the four principles from which we assert that all things are +derived, is of inflamed air, as seems particularly to have been +the opinion of Panætius, and must necessarily mount upwards; +for air and fire have no tendency downwards, but +always ascend; so should they be dissipated, that must be at +some distance from the earth; but should they remain, and +preserve their original state, it is clearer still that they must +be carried heavenward; and this gross and concrete air, which +is nearest the earth, must be divided and broken by them; +for the soul is warmer, or rather hotter than that air, which +I just now called gross and concrete; and this may be made +evident from this consideration,—that our bodies, being compounded +of the earthy class of principles, grow warm by the +heat of the soul. +</p> + +<p> +XIX. We may add, that the soul can the more easily +escape from this air, which I have often named, and break +through it; because nothing is swifter than the soul; no +swiftness is comparable to the swiftness of the soul; which, +should it remain uncorrupt and without alteration, must +necessarily be carried on with such velocity as to penetrate +<pb n='304'/><anchor id='Pg304'/> +and divide all this atmosphere, where clouds, and rain, and +winds are formed; which, in consequence of the exhalations +from the earth, is moist and dark; but, when the soul has +once got above this region, and falls in with, and recognises a +nature like its own, it then rests upon fires composed of a +combination of thin air and a moderate solar heat, and does +not aim at any higher flight. For then, after it has attained +a lightness and heat resembling its own, it moves no more, +but remains steady, being balanced, as it were, between two +equal weights. That, then, is its natural seat where it has +penetrated to something like itself; and where, wanting +nothing further, it may be supported and maintained by the +same aliment which nourishes and maintains the stars. +</p> + +<p> +Now, as we are usually incited to all sorts of desires by +the stimulus of the body, and the more so, as we endeavour +to rival those who are in possession of what we long for, we +shall certainly be happy when, being emancipated from that +body, we at the same time get rid of these desires and this +rivalry: and, that which we do at present, when, dismissing all +other cares, we curiously examine and look into anything, we +shall then do with greater freedom; and we shall employ +ourselves entirely in the contemplation and examination of +things; because there is naturally in our minds a certain +insatiable desire to know the truth; and the very region +itself where we shall arrive, as it gives us a more intuitive +and easy knowledge of celestial things, will raise our desires +after knowledge. For it was this beauty of the heavens, as +seen even here upon earth, which gave birth to that national +and hereditary philosophy, (as Theophrastus calls it,) which +was thus excited to a desire of knowledge. But those persons +will in a most especial degree enjoy this philosophy, who, +while they were only inhabitants of this world and enveloped +in darkness, were still desirous of looking into these things +with the eye of their mind. +</p> + +<p> +XX. For, if those men now think that they have attained +something who have seen the mouth of the Pontus, and +those straits which were passed by the ship called Argo, +because, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>From Argos she did chosen men convey,</l> +<l>Bound to fetch back the golden fleece, their prey;</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +or those who have seen the straits of the ocean, +</p> + +<pb n='305'/><anchor id='Pg305'/> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Where the swift waves divide the neighbouring shores</l> +<l>Of Europe, and of Afric.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +What kind of sight do you imagine that will be, when the +whole earth is laid open to our view? and that, too, not only +in its position, form, and boundaries, nor those parts of it only +which are habitable, but those also that lie uncultivated, through +the extremities of heat and cold to which they are exposed; +for not even now is it with our eyes that we view what we +see, for the body itself has no senses; but (as the naturalists, +aye, and even the physicians assure us, who have opened our +bodies, and examined them), there are certain perforated +channels from the seat of the soul to the eyes, ears, and nose; +so that frequently, when either prevented by meditation, or +the force of some bodily disorder, we neither hear nor see, +though our eyes and ears are open, and in good condition; so +that we may easily apprehend that it is the soul itself which +sees and hears, and not those parts which are, as it were, but +windows to the soul; by means of which, however, she can +perceive nothing, unless she is on the spot, and exerts herself. +How shall we account for the fact, that by the same power of +thinking we comprehend the most different things; as colour, +taste, heat, smell, and sound? which the soul could never +know by her five messengers, unless everything was referred +to her, and she were the sole judge of all. And we shall +certainly discover these things in a more clear and perfect +degree when the soul is disengaged from the body, and has +arrived at that goal to which nature leads her; for at present, +notwithstanding nature has contrived, with the greatest skill, +those channels which lead from the body to the soul, yet are +they, in some way or other, stopped up with earthy and +concrete bodies; but when we shall be nothing but soul, then +nothing will interfere to prevent our seeing everything in its +real substance, and in its true character. +</p> + +<p> +XXI. It is true, I might expatiate, did the subject require +it, on the many and various objects with which the soul will +be entertained in those heavenly regions; when I reflect on +which, I am apt to wonder at the boldness of some philosophers, +who are so struck with admiration at the knowledge of +nature, as to thank, in an exulting manner, the first inventor +and teacher of natural philosophy, and to reverence him as a +God: for they declare that they have been delivered by his +<pb n='306'/><anchor id='Pg306'/> +means from the greatest tyrants, a perpetual terror, and a +fear that molested them by night and day. What is this +dread—this fear? what old woman is there so weak as to fear +these things, which you, forsooth, had you not been acquainted +with natural philosophy, would stand in awe of? +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>The hallow'd roofs of Acheron, the dread</l> +<l>Of Orcus, the pale regions of the dead.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +And does it become a philosopher to boast that he is not +afraid of these things, and that he has discovered them to be +false? And from this we may perceive how acute these men +were by nature, who, if they had been left without any +instruction would have believed in these things. But now +they have certainly made a very fine acquisition in learning +that when the day of their death arrives they will perish +entirely; and, if that really is the case, for I say nothing +either way, what is there agreeable or glorious in it? Not +that I see any reason why the opinion of Pythagoras and +Plato may not be true: but even although Plato were to +have assigned no reason for his opinion (observe how much I +esteem the man), the weight of his authority would have +borne me down; but he has brought so many reasons, that +he appears to me to have endeavoured to convince others, +and certainly to have convinced himself. +</p> + +<p> +XXII. But there are many who labour on the other side of +the question, and condemn souls to death, as if they were +criminals capitally convicted; nor have they any other +reason to allege why the immortality of the soul appears to +them to be incredible, except that they are not able to +conceive what sort of thing the soul can be when disentangled +from the body; just as if they could really form a correct +idea as to what sort of thing it is, even when it is in the +body; what its form, and size, and abode are; so that were +they able to have a full view of all that is now hidden from +them in a living body, they have no idea whether the soul +would be discernible by them, or whether it is of so fine a +texture that it would escape their sight. Let those consider +this, who say that they are unable to form any idea of the +soul without the body, and then they will see whether they +can form any adequate idea of what it is when it is in the +body. For my own part, when I reflect on the nature of the +<pb n='307'/><anchor id='Pg307'/> +soul, it appears to me a far more perplexing and obscure +question to determine what is its character while it is in the +body, a place which, as it were, does not belong to it, than to +imagine what it is when it leaves it, and has arrived at the free +æther, which is, if I may so say, its proper, its own habitation. +For unless we are to say that we cannot apprehend the +character or nature of anything which we have never seen, +we certainly may be able to form some notion of God, and of +the divine soul when released from the body. Dicæarchus, +indeed, and Aristoxenus, because it was hard to understand +the existence, and substance, and nature of the soul, asserted +that there was no such thing as a soul at all. It is, indeed, the +most difficult thing imaginable, to discern the soul by the +soul. And this, doubtless, is the meaning of the precept of +Apollo, which advises every one to know himself. For I do +not apprehend the meaning of the god to have been, that we +should understand our members, our stature, and form; for +we are not merely bodies; nor, when I say these things to +you, am I addressing myself to your body: when, therefore, +he says, <q>Know yourself,</q> he says this, <q>Inform yourself of +the nature of your soul;</q> for the body is but a kind of +vessel, or receptacle of the soul, and whatever your soul does +is your own act. To know the soul, then, unless it had been +divine, would not have been a precept of such excellent +wisdom, as to be attributed to a god; but even though the +soul should not know of what nature itself is, will you say +that it does not even perceive that it exists at all, or that it +has motion? on which is founded that reason of Plato's, which +is explained by Socrates in the Phædrus, and inserted by me, +in my sixth book of the Republic. +</p> + +<p> +XXIII. <q>That which is always moved is eternal; but +that which gives motion to something else, and is moved +itself by some external cause, when that motion ceases, must +necessarily cease to exist. That, therefore, alone, which is +self-moved, because it is never forsaken by itself, can never +cease to be moved. Besides, it is the beginning and principle +of motion to everything else; but whatever is a principle has +no beginning, for all things arise from that principle, and it +cannot itself owe its rise to anything else; for then it would +not be a principle did it proceed from anything else. But if +it has no beginning, it never will have any end; for a principle +<pb n='308'/><anchor id='Pg308'/> +which is once extinguished, cannot itself be restored by +anything else, nor can it produce anything else from itself; +inasmuch as all things must necessarily arise from some first +cause. And thus it comes about, that the first principle of +motion must arise from that thing which is itself moved by +itself; and that can neither have a beginning nor an end of +its existence, for otherwise the whole heaven and earth would +be overset, and all nature would stand still, and not be able to +acquire any force, by the impulse of which it might be first +set in motion. Seeing, then, that it is clear, that whatever +moves itself is eternal, can there be any doubt that the soul +is so? For everything is inanimate which is moved by an +external force; but everything which is animate is moved by +an interior force, which also belongs to itself. For this is the +peculiar nature and power of the soul; and if the soul be the +only thing in the whole world which has the power of self-motion, +then certainly it never had a beginning, and therefore +it is eternal.</q> +</p> + +<p> +Now, should all the lower order of philosophers, (for so I +think they may be called, who dissent from Plato and +Socrates and that school,) unite their force, they never would +be able to explain anything so elegantly as this, nor even to +understand how ingeniously this conclusion is drawn. The +soul, then, perceives itself to have motion, and at the same +time that it gets that perception, it is sensible that it derives +that motion from its own power, and not from the agency of +another; and it is impossible that it should ever forsake +itself; and these premises compel you to allow its eternity, +unless you have something to say against them. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I should myself be very well pleased not to have even +a thought arise in my mind against them, so much am I +inclined to that opinion. +</p> + +<p> +XXIV. <hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Well then, I appeal to you, if the arguments +which prove that there is something divine in the souls of +men are not equally strong? but if I could account for the +origin of these divine properties, then I might also be able to +explain how they might cease to exist; for I think I can +account for the manner in which the blood, and bile, and +phlegm, and bones, and nerves, and veins, and all the limbs, +and the shape of the whole body, were put together and +made; aye, and even as to the soul itself, were there nothing +<pb n='309'/><anchor id='Pg309'/> +more in it than a principle of life, then the life of a man might +be put upon the same footing as that of a vine or any other +tree, and accounted for as caused by nature; for these things, +as we say, live. Besides, if desires and aversions were all that +belonged to the soul, it would have them only in common +with the beasts; but it has, in the first place, memory, and +that, too, so infinite, as to recollect an absolute countless +number of circumstances, which Plato will have to be a +recollection of a former life; for in that book which is inscribed +Menon, Socrates asks a child some questions in geometry, +with reference to measuring a square; his answers are such +as a child would make, and yet the questions are so easy, that +while answering them, one by one, he comes to the same +point as if he had learned geometry. From whence Socrates +would infer, that learning is nothing more than recollection; +and this topic he explains more accurately, in the discourse +which he held the very day he died; for he there asserts that +any one who seeming to be entirely illiterate, is yet able to +answer a question well that is proposed to him, does in so doing +manifestly show that he is not learning it then, but +recollecting it by his memory. Nor is it to be accounted for in any +other way, how children come to have notions of so many and +such important things, as are implanted, and as it were sealed +up in their minds, (which the Greeks call ἔννοιαι,) unless the +soul before it entered the body had been well stored with +knowledge. And as it had no existence at all, (for this is the +invariable doctrine of Plato, who will not admit anything to +have a real existence which has a beginning and an end; and +who thinks that that alone does really exist which is of such +a character as what he calls εἴδεα, and we species,) therefore, +being shut up in the body, it could not while in the body +discover what it knows: but it knew it before, and brought +the knowledge with it, so that we are no longer surprised at +its extensive and multifarious knowledge: nor does the soul +clearly discover its ideas at its first resort to this abode to +which it is so unaccustomed, and which is in so disturbed a +state; but after having refreshed and recollected itself, it +then by its memory recovers them; and, therefore, to learn +implies nothing more than to recollect. But I am in a +particular manner surprised at memory; for what is that faculty +by which we remember? what is its force? what its nature? +<pb n='310'/><anchor id='Pg310'/> +I am not inquiring how great a memory Simonides<note place='foot'>The +Simonides here meant, is the celebrated poet of Ceos, the +perfecter of Elegiac poetry among the Greeks. He flourished about the +time of the Persian war. Besides his poetry, he is said to have been +the inventor of some method of aiding the memory. He died at the +court of Hiero, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 467.</note> may be +said to have had, or Theodectes,<note place='foot'>Theodectes +was a native of Phaselis, in Pamphylia, a distinguished +rhetorician and tragic poet, and flourished in the time of Philip of +Macedon. He was a pupil of Isocrates, and lived at Athens, and died +there at the age of 41.</note> or that Cineas,<note place='foot'>Cineas +was a Thessalian, and (as is said in the text) came to Rome as ambassador from +Pyrrhus after the battle of Heraclea, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 280, and +his memory is said to have been so great that on the day after his +arrival he was able to address all the senators and knights by name. +He probably died before Pyrrhus returned to Italy, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> +276.</note> who was sent to Rome as ambassador from Pyrrhus, or in more modern +times Charmadas;<note place='foot'>Charmadas, called also Charmides, was a fellow pupil +with Philo, the Larissæan of Clitomachus, the Carthaginian. He is said by some +authors to have founded a fourth academy.</note> or very lately, +Metrodorus,<note place='foot'>Metrodorus was a minister of Mithridates the Great; and +employed by him as supreme judge in Pontus, and afterwards as an ambassador. +Cicero speaks of him in other places (De Orat. ii. 88) as a man of wonderful +memory.</note> the Scepsian, +or our own contemporary Hortensius:<note place='foot'>Quintus +Hortensius was eight years older than Cicero; and, till +Cicero's fame surpassed his, he was accounted the most eloquent of all +the Romans. He was Verres's counsel in the prosecution conducted +against him by Cicero. Seneca relates that his memory was so great +that he could come out of an auction and repeat the catalogue +backwards. He died <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 50.</note> I am speaking of +ordinary memory, and especially of those men who are employed +in any important study or art, the great capacity of whose +minds it is hard to estimate, such numbers of things do they +remember. +</p> + +<p> +XXV. Should you ask what this leads to, I think we may +understand what that power is, and whence we have it. It +certainly proceeds neither from the heart, nor from the blood, +nor from the brain, nor from atoms; whether it be air or +fire, I know not, nor am I, as those men are, ashamed in cases +where I am ignorant, to own that I am so. If in any other +obscure matter I were able to assert anything positively, then +I would swear that the soul, be it air or fire, is divine. Just +think, I beseech you,—can you imagine this wonderful power +of memory to be sown in, or to be a part of the composition +<pb n='311'/><anchor id='Pg311'/> +of the earth, or of this dark and gloomy atmosphere? Though +you cannot apprehend what it is, yet you see what kind of +thing it is, or if you do not quite see that, yet you certainly +see how great it is. What then? shall we imagine that there +is a kind of measure in the soul, into which, as into a vessel, +all that we remember is poured? that indeed is absurd; for +how shall we form any idea of the bottom, or of the shape or +fashion of such a soul as that? and again how are we to +conceive how much it is able to contain? Shall we imagine the +soul to receive impressions like wax, and memory to be marks +of the impressions made on the soul? What are the +characters of the words, what of the facts themselves? and what +again is that prodigious greatness which can give rise to +impressions of so many things? What, lastly, is that power +which investigates secret things, and is called invention and +contrivance? Does that man seem to be compounded of this +earthly, mortal, and perishing nature, who first invented +names for everything, which, if you will believe Pythagoras, +is the highest pitch of wisdom? or he, who collected the +dispersed inhabitants of the world, and united them, in the +bonds of social life? or he, who confined the sounds of the +voice, which used to seem infinite, to the marks of a few +letters? or he who first observed the courses of the planets, +their progressive motions, their laws? These were all great +men; but they were greater still, who invented food, and +raiment, and houses; who introduced civilization amongst us, +and armed us against the wild beasts; by whom we were +made sociable and polished, and so proceeded from the +necessaries of life to its embellishments. For we have +provided great entertainments for the ears, by inventing and +modulating the variety and nature of sounds; we have learnt +to survey the stars, not only those that are fixed, but also +those which are improperly called wandering; and the man +who has acquainted himself with all their revolutions and +motions, is fairly considered to have a soul resembling the +soul of that Being who has created those stars in the heavens: +for when Archimedes described in a sphere the motions of +the moon, sun, and five planets, he did the very same thing +as Plato's God, in his Timæus, who made the world; causing +one revolution to adjust motions differing as much as possible +in their slowness and velocity. Now, allowing that what we +<pb n='312'/><anchor id='Pg312'/> +see in the world could not be effected without a God, Archimedes +could not have imitated the same motions in his sphere +without a divine soul. +</p> + +<p> +XXVI. To me, indeed, it appears that even those studies +which are more common and in greater esteem are not without +some divine energy: so that I do not consider that a +poet can produce a serious and sublime poem, without some +divine impulse working on his mind; nor do I think that +eloquence, abounding with sonorous words and fruitful sentences, +can flow thus, without something beyond mere human +power. But as to philosophy, that is the parent of all the +arts, what can we call that but, as Plato says, a gift, or as I +express it, an invention of the Gods? This it was which first +taught us the worship of the Gods; and then led us on to +justice, which arises from the human race being formed into +society: and after that it imbued us with modesty, and +elevation of soul. This it was which dispersed darkness +from our souls, as it is dispelled from our eyes, enabling us +to see all things that are above or below, the beginning, end, +and middle of every thing. I am convinced entirely, that +that which could effect so many and such great things must +be a divine power. For what is memory of words and circumstances? +what, too, is invention? Surely they are things than +which nothing greater can be conceived in a God! for I +do not imagine the Gods to be delighted with nectar and +ambrosia, or with Juventas presenting them with a cup; nor +do I put any faith in Homer, who says that Ganymede was +carried away by the Gods, on account of his beauty, in order +to give Jupiter his wine. Too weak reasons for doing +Laomedon such injury! These were mere inventions of +Homer, who gave his Gods the imperfections of men. I +would rather that he had given men the perfections of the +Gods! those perfections, I mean, of uninterrupted health, +wisdom, invention, memory. Therefore the soul (which is, +as I say, divine,) is, as Euripides more boldly expresses it, a +God. And thus, if the divinity be air or fire, the soul of +man is the same: for as that celestial nature has nothing +earthly or humid about it, in like manner the soul of man is +also free from both these qualities: but if it is of that fifth +kind of nature, first introduced by Aristotle, then both Gods +and souls are of the same. +</p> + +<pb n='313'/><anchor id='Pg313'/> + +<p> +XXVII. As this is my opinion, I have explained it in +these very words, in my book on Consolation.<note place='foot'>This +treatise is one which has not come down to us, but which had +been lately composed by Cicero in order to comfort himself for the +loss of his daughter.</note> The origin of +the soul of man is not to be found upon earth, for there is +nothing in the soul of a mixed or concrete nature, or that has +any appearance of being formed or made out of the earth; +nothing even humid, or airy, or fiery: for what is there in +natures of that kind which has the power of memory, understanding, +or thought? which can recollect the past; foresee +the future; and comprehend the present? for these capabilities +are confined to divine beings; nor can we discover any +source from which men could derive them, but from God. +There is therefore a peculiar nature and power in the soul, +distinct from those natures which are more known and +familiar to us. Whatever, then, that is which thinks, and +which has understanding, and volition, and a principle of life, +is heavenly and divine, and on that account must necessarily +be eternal: nor can God himself, who is known to us, be +conceived to be anything else except a soul free and unembarrassed, +distinct from all mortal concretion, acquainted with +everything, and giving motion to everything, and itself +endued with perpetual motion. +</p> + +<p> +XXVIII. Of this kind and nature is the intellect of man. +Where, then, is this intellect seated, and of what character is +it? where is your own, and what is its character? are you +able to tell? If I have not faculties for knowing all that I +could desire to know, will you not even allow me to make use +of those which I have? The soul has not sufficient capacity +to comprehend itself; yet, the soul, like the eye, though it +has no distinct view of itself, sees other things: it does not +see (which is of least consequence) its own shape; perhaps +not, though it possibly may; but we will pass that by: but +it certainly sees that it has vigour, sagacity, memory, motion, +and velocity; these are all great, divine, eternal properties. +What its appearance is, or where it dwells, it is not necessary +even to inquire. As when we behold, first of all, the beauty +and brilliant appearance of the heavens; secondly, the vast +velocity of its revolutions, beyond power of our imagination +to conceive; then the vicissitudes of nights and days; the +<pb n='314'/><anchor id='Pg314'/> +four-fold division of the seasons, so well adapted to the ripening +of the fruits of the earth, and the temperature of our +bodies; and after that we look up to the sun, the moderator +and governor of all these things; and view the moon, by the +increase and decrease of its light, marking, as it were, and +appointing our holy days; and see the five planets, borne on +in the same circle, divided into twelve parts, preserving the +same course with the greatest regularity, but with utterly +dissimilar motions amongst themselves; and the nightly +appearance of the heaven, adorned on all sides with stars; +then, the globe of the earth, raised above the sea, and placed +in the centre of the universe, inhabited and cultivated in its +two opposite extremities; one of which, the place of our +habitation, is situated towards the north pole, under the +seven stars:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Where the cold northern blasts, with horrid sound,</l> +<l>Harden to ice the snowy cover'd ground,—</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +the other, towards the south pole, is unknown to us; but is +called by the Greeks ἀντίχθονα: the other parts are uncultivated, +because they are either frozen with cold, or burnt up +with heat; but where we dwell, it never fails in its season, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>To yield a placid sky, to bid the trees</l> +<l>Assume the lively verdure of their leaves:</l> +<l>The vine to bud, and, joyful in its shoots,</l> +<l>Foretell the approaching vintage of its fruits:</l> +<l>The ripen'd corn to sing, whilst all around</l> +<l>Full riv'lets glide; and flowers deck the ground:—</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +then the multitude of cattle, fit part for food, part for tilling +the ground, others for carrying us, or for clothing us; and +man himself, made as it were on purpose to contemplate the +heavens and the Gods, and to pay adoration to them; lastly, +the whole earth, and wide extending seas, given to man's use. +When we view these, and numberless other things, can we +doubt that they have some being who presides over them, or +has made them (if, indeed, they have been made, as is the +opinion of Plato, or if, as Aristotle thinks, they are eternal), +or who at all events is the regulator of so immense a +fabric and so great a blessing to men? Thus, though you see +not the soul of man, as you see not the Deity, yet, as by the +contemplation of his works you are led to acknowledge a God, +so you must own the divine power of the soul, from its +<pb n='315'/><anchor id='Pg315'/> +remembering things, from its invention, from the quickness of +its motion, and from all the beauty of virtue. Where, then, is +it seated, you will say? +</p> + +<p> +XXIX. In my opinion it is seated in the head, and I can +bring you reasons for my adopting that opinion. At present, +let the soul reside where it will, you certainly have one in +you. Should you ask what its nature is? It has one peculiarly +its own; but admitting it to consist of fire, or air, it +does not affect the present question; only observe this, that +as you are convinced there is a God, though you are ignorant +where he resides, and what shape he is of; in like manner you +ought to feel assured that you have a soul, though you cannot +satisfy yourself of the place of its residence, nor its form. In +our knowledge of the soul, unless we are grossly ignorant of +natural philosophy, we cannot but be satisfied that it has +nothing but what is simple, unmixed, uncompounded, and +single; and if this is admitted, then it cannot be separated, nor +divided, nor dispersed, nor parted, and therefore it cannot +perish; for to perish implies a parting asunder, a division, a +disunion of those parts which, whilst it subsisted, were held +together by some band; and it was because he was influenced +by these and similar reasons that Socrates neither looked out +for anybody to plead for him when he was accused, nor +begged any favour from his judges, but maintained a manly +freedom, which was the effect not of pride, but of the true +greatness of his soul: and on the last day of his life, he held +a long discourse on this subject; and a few days before, when +he might have been easily freed from his confinement, he +refused to be so, and when he had almost actually hold of +that deadly cup, he spoke with the air of a man not forced to +die, but ascending into heaven. +</p> + +<p> +XXX. For so indeed he thought himself, and thus he +spoke:—<q>That there were two ways, and that the souls of +men, at their departure from the body, took different roads, +for those which were polluted with vices, that are common to +men, and which had given themselves up entirely to unclean +desires, and had become so blinded by them as to have +habituated themselves to all manner of debauchery and +profligacy, or to have laid detestable schemes for the ruin +of their country, took a road wide of that which led to the +assembly of the Gods: but they who had preserved themselves +<pb n='316'/><anchor id='Pg316'/> +upright and chaste, and free from the slightest contagion +of the body, and had always kept themselves as far as possible +at a distance from it, and whilst on earth, had proposed to +themselves as a model the life of the Gods, found the return +to those beings from whom they had come an easy one.</q> +Therefore he argues, that all good and wise men should take +example from the swans, who are considered sacred to Apollo, +not without reason, but particularly because they seem to +have received the gift of divination from him, by which, foreseeing +how happy it is to die, they leave this world with +singing and joy. Nor can any one doubt of this, unless it +happens to us who think with care and anxiety about the +soul, (as is often the case with those who look earnestly at the +setting sun,) to lose the sight of it entirely: and so the mind's +eye viewing itself, sometimes grows dull, and for that reason +we become remiss in our contemplation. Thus our reasoning is +borne about, harassed with doubts and anxieties, not knowing +how to proceed, but measuring back again those dangerous +tracts which it has passed, like a boat tossed about on the +boundless ocean. But these reflections are of long standing, +and borrowed from the Greeks. But Cato left this world in +such a manner, as if he were delighted that he had found an +opportunity of dying; for that God who presides in us, forbids +our departure hence without his leave. But when God +himself has given us a just cause, as formerly he did to Socrates, +and lately to Cato, and often to many others,—in such a case, +certainly every man of sense would gladly exchange this +darkness, for that light: not that he would forcibly break +from the chains that held him, for that would be against +the law; but like a man released from prison by a magistrate, +or some lawful authority, so he too would walk away, being +released and discharged by God. For the whole life of a +philosopher is, as the same philosopher says, a meditation on +death. +</p> + +<p> +XXXI. For what else is it that we do, when we call off our +minds from pleasure, that is to say, from our attention to +the body, from the managing our domestic estate, which is a +sort of handmaid and servant of the body, or from duties of a +public nature, or from all other serious business whatever? +What else is it, I say, that we do, but invite the soul to reflect +on itself? oblige it to converse with itself, and, as far as possible, +<pb n='317'/><anchor id='Pg317'/> +break off its acquaintance with the body? Now to separate +the soul from the body, is to learn to die, and nothing +else whatever. Wherefore take my advice; and let us meditate +on this, and separate ourselves as far as possible from +the body, that is to say, let us accustom ourselves to die. +This will be enjoying a life like that of heaven even while we +remain on earth; and when we are carried thither and released +from these bonds, our souls will make their progress with +more rapidity: for the spirit which has always been fettered +by the bonds of the body, even when it is disengaged, advances +more slowly, just as those do who have worn actual +fetters for many years: but when we have arrived at this +emancipation from the bonds of the body, then indeed we +shall begin to live, for this present life is really death, which +I could say a good deal in lamentation for if I chose. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> You have lamented it sufficiently in your book on Consolation; +and when I read that, there is nothing which I +desire more than to leave these things: but that desire is +increased a great deal by what I have just heard. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> The time will come, and that soon, and with equal +certainty whether you hang back or press forward; for time +flies. But death is so far from being an evil, as it lately +appeared to you, that I am inclined to suspect, not that there +is no other thing which is an evil to man, but rather that +there is nothing else which is a real good to him; if, at least, +it is true, that we become thereby either Gods ourselves, or +companions of the Gods. However, this is not of so much +consequence, as there are some of us here who will not allow +this. But I will not leave off discussing this point till I have +convinced you that death can, upon no consideration whatever, +be an evil. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> How can it, after what I now know? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Do you ask how it can? There are crowds of arguers +who contradict this; and those not only Epicureans, whom +I regard very little, but, some how or other, almost every +man of letters; and, above all, my favourite Dicæarchus +is very strenuous in opposing the immortality of the soul: +for he has written three books, which are entitled Lesbiacs, +because the discourse was held at Mitylene, in which +he seeks to prove that souls are mortal. The Stoics, on the +other hand, allow us as long a time for enjoyment as the life +<pb n='318'/><anchor id='Pg318'/> +of a raven; they allow the soul to exist a great while, but are +against its eternity. +</p> + +<p> +XXXII. Are you willing to hear then why, even allowing +this, death cannot be an evil? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> As you please; but no one shall drive me from my +belief in mortality. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I commend you indeed, for that; though we should +not be too confident in our belief of anything; for we are +frequently disturbed by some subtle conclusion; we give way +and change our opinions even in things that are more evident +than this; for in this there certainly is some obscurity. +Therefore, should anything of this kind happen, it is well to +be on our guard. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> You are right in that, but I will provide against any +accident. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Have you any objection to our dismissing our friends +the Stoics? those, I mean, who allow that the souls exist after +they have left the body, but yet deny that they exist for ever. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> We certainly may dismiss the consideration of those +men who admit that which is the most difficult point in the +whole question, namely, that a soul can exist independently +of the body, and yet refuse to grant that, which is not only +very easy to believe, but which is even the natural consequence +of the concession which they have made, that if they can exist +for a length of time, they most likely do so for ever. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> You take it right; that is the very thing: shall we +give, therefore, any credit to Panætius, when he dissents from +his master, Plato? whom he everywhere calls divine, the +wisest, the holiest of men, the Homer of philosophers; and +whom he opposes in nothing except this single opinion of the +soul's immortality: for he maintains what nobody denies, +that everything which has been generated will perish; and +that even souls are generated, which he thinks appears from +their resemblance to those of the men who begot them; for +that likeness is as apparent in the turn of their minds as in +their bodies. But he brings another reason; that there is +nothing which is sensible of pain which is not also liable to +disease; but whatever is liable to disease must be liable to +death; the soul is sensible of pain, therefore it is liable +to perish. +</p> + +<p> +XXXIII. These arguments may be refuted; for they proceed +<pb n='319'/><anchor id='Pg319'/> +from his not knowing that while discussing the subject +of the immortality of the soul, he is speaking of the intellect, +which is free from all turbid motion; but not of those parts of +the mind in which those disorders, anger and lust, have their +seat, and which he whom he is opposing, when he argues +thus, imagines to be distinct and separate from the mind. +Now this resemblance is more remarkable in beasts, whose +souls are void of reason. But the likeness in men consists +more in the configuration of the bodies; and it is of no little +consequence in what bodies the soul is lodged; for there are +many things which depend on the body that give an edge to +the soul, many which blunt it. Aristotle indeed, says, that +all men of great genius are melancholy; so that I should not +have been displeased to have been somewhat duller than I +am. He instances many, and, as if it were matter of fact, +brings his reasons for it: but if the power of those things +that proceed from the body be so great as to influence the +mind, (for they are the things, whatever they are, that occasion +this likeness,) still that does not necessarily prove why +a similitude of souls should be generated. I say nothing +about cases of unlikeness. I wish Panætius could be here; +he lived with Africanus; I would inquire of him which of +his family the nephew of Africanus's brother was like? Possibly +he may in person have resembled his father; but in his +manners, he was so like every profligate abandoned man, +that it was impossible to be more so. Who did the grandson +of P. Crassus, that wise, and eloquent, and most distinguished +man resemble? Or the relations and sons of many +other excellent men, whose names there is no occasion to mention? +But what are we doing? Have we forgotten that our +purpose was, when we had sufficiently spoken on the subject +of the immortality of the soul, to prove that, even if the soul +did perish, there would be, even then, no evil in death? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I remembered it very well; but I had no dislike to +your digressing a little from your original design, whilst you +were talking of the soul's immortality. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I perceive you have sublime thoughts, and are eager +to mount up to heaven. +</p> + +<p> +XXXIV. I am not without hopes myself that such may be +our fate. But admit what they assert; that the soul does +not continue to exist after death. +</p> + +<pb n='320'/><anchor id='Pg320'/> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Should it be so, I see that we are then deprived of the +hopes of a happier life. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> But what is there of evil in that opinion? For let the +soul perish as the body: is there any pain, or indeed any +feeling at all in the body after death? No one, indeed, asserts +that; though Epicurus charges Democritus with saying so; +but the disciples of Democritus deny it. No sense, therefore, +remains in the soul; for the soul is nowhere; where, then, +is the evil? for there is nothing but these two things. Is it +because the mere separation of the soul and body cannot be +effected without pain? but even should that be granted, how +small a pain must that be! Yet I think that it is false; and +that it is very often unaccompanied by any sensation at all, +and sometimes even attended with pleasure: but certainly the +whole must be very trifling, whatever it is, for it is instantaneous. +What makes us uneasy, or rather gives us pain, is +the leaving all the good things of life. But just consider, if +I might not more properly say, leaving the evils of life; only +there is no reason for my now occupying myself in bewailing +the life of man, and yet I might, with very good reason; but +what occasion is there, when what I am labouring to prove is +that no one is miserable after death, to make life more miserable +by lamenting over it? I have done that in the book +which I wrote, in order to comfort myself as well as I could. +If, then, our inquiry is after truth, death withdraws us from +evil, not from good. This subject is indeed so copiously +handled by Hegesias, the Cyrenaic philosopher, that he is +said to have been forbid by Ptolemy from delivering his lectures +in the schools, because some who heard him made +away with themselves. There is too, an epigram of Callimachus,<note place='foot'><p>The +epigram is— +</p> +<p> +Εἴπας Ἥλιε χαῖρε, Κλεόμβροτος Ὅμβρακιώτης<lb/> +ἥλατ᾽ ἀφ᾽ ύψηλοῦ τείχεος εἰς Ἀίδην,<lb/> +ἄξιον οὐδὲν ἰδὼν θανάτου κακὸν, ἀλλὰ Πλάτωνος<lb/> +ἔν τὸ περὶ ψύχης γράμμ᾽ ἀναλεξάμενος. +</p> +<p> +Which may be translated, perhaps— +</p> +<p> +Farewell, O sun, Cleombrotus exclaim'd,<lb/> +Then plung'd from off a height beneath the sea;<lb/> +Stung by pain, of no disgrace ashamed,<lb/> +But mov'd by Plato's high philosophy. +</p></note> on Cleombrotus of Ambracia; who, without any +misfortune having befallen him, as he says, threw himself +<pb n='321'/><anchor id='Pg321'/> +from a wall into the sea, after he had read a boot of Plato's. +The book I mentioned of that Hegesias, is called Ἀποκαρτερῶν, +or <q>A Man who starves himself,</q> in which a man is +represented as killing himself by starvation, till he is prevented +by his friends, in reply to whom he reckons up all the +miseries of human life: I might do the same, though not so +fully as he, who thinks it not worth any man's while to live. +I pass over others. Was it even worth my while to live, for, +had I died before I was deprived of the comforts of my own +family, and of the honours which I received for my public +services, would not death have taken me from the evils of +life, rather than from its blessings? +</p> + +<p> +XXXV. Mention, therefore, some one, who never knew +distress; who never received any blow from fortune. The +great Metellus had four distinguished sons; but Priam had +fifty, seventeen of which were born to him by his lawful +wife: Fortune had the same power over both, though she exercised +it but on one: for Metellus was laid on his funeral +pile by a great company of sons and daughters, grandsons, +and grandaughters; but Priam fell by the hand of an +enemy, after having fled to the altar, and having seen himself +deprived of all his numerous progeny. Had he died before +the death of his sons and the ruin of his kingdom, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>With all his mighty wealth elate,</l> +<l>Under rich canopies of state;</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +would he then have been taken from good or from evil? It +would indeed, at that time, have appeared that he was being +taken away from good; yet surely, it would have turned +out advantageous for him; nor should we have had these +mournful verses,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Lo! these all perish'd in one flaming pile;</l> +<l>The foe old Priam did of life beguile,</l> +<l>And with his blood, thy altar, Jove, defile.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +As if anything better could have happened to him at that +time, than to lose his life in that manner; but yet, if it had +befallen him sooner, it would have prevented all those consequences; +but even as it was it released him from any further +sense of them. The case of our friend Pompey<note place='foot'><p>This +is alluded to by Juvenal— +</p> +<p> +Provida Pompeio dederat Campania febres<lb/> +Optandas: sed multæ urbes et publica vota<lb/> +Vicerunt. Igitur Fortuna ipsius et Urbis,<lb/> +Servatum victo caput abstulit.—Sat. x. 283. +</p></note> was something +<pb n='322'/><anchor id='Pg322'/> +better: once, when he had been very ill at Naples, the +Neapolitans on his recovery put crowns on their heads, as +did those of Puteoli; the people flocked from the country to +congratulate him;—it is a Grecian custom, and a foolish one; +still it is a sign of good fortune. But the question is, had he +died, would he have been taken from good, or from evil? +Certainly from evil. He would not have been engaged in a +war with his father-in-law;<note place='foot'><p>Pompey's +second wife was Julia, the daughter of Julius Cæsar; she +died the year before the death of Crassus, in Parthia. Virgil speaks of +Cæsar and Pompey as relations, using the same expression (socer) as +Cicero— +</p> +<p> +Aggeribus socer Alpinis atque arce Monœci<lb/> +Descendens, gener adversis instructus Eois.—Æn. vi. 830. +</p></note> he would not have taken up +arms before he was prepared; he would not have left his own +house, nor fled from Italy; he would not, after the loss of his +army, have fallen unarmed into the hands of slaves, and been +put to death by them; his children would not have been +destroyed; nor would his whole fortune have come into the +possession of the conquerors. Did not he, then, who, if he had +died at that time would have died in all his glory, owe all +the great and terrible misfortunes into which he subsequently +fell to the prolongation of his life at that time? +</p> + +<p> +XXXVI. These calamities are avoided by death, for even +though they should never happen, there is a possibility that +they may; but it never occurs to a man, that such a disaster +may befal him himself. Every one hopes to be as happy as +Metellus: as if the number of the happy exceeded that of the +miserable; or as if there were any certainty in human affairs; +or again, as if there were more rational foundation for hope +than fear. But should we grant them even this, that men are +by death deprived of good things, would it follow that the +dead are therefore in need of the good things of life, and +are miserable on that account? Certainly they must necessarily +say so. Can he who does not exist, be in need of anything? +To be in need of, has a melancholy sound, because +it in effect amounts to this,—he had, but he has not; he +regrets, he looks back upon, he wants. Such are, I suppose, +the distresses of one who is in need of. Is he deprived of +eyes? to be blind is misery. Is he destitute of children? not +to have them is misery. These considerations apply to the +living, but the dead are neither in need of the blessings of +<pb n='323'/><anchor id='Pg323'/> +life, nor of life itself. But when I am speaking of the dead I am +speaking of those who have no existence. But would any +one say of us, who do exist, that we want horns or wings? +Certainly not. Should it be asked, why not? the answer +would be, that not to have what neither custom nor nature +has fitted you for, would not imply a want of them, even +though you were sensible that you had them not. This argument +should be pressed over and over again, after that point +has once been established, which if souls are mortal there can +be no dispute about—I mean, that the destruction of them +by death is so entire, as to remove even the least suspicion of +any sense remaining. When, therefore, this point is once +well grounded and established, we must correctly define what +the term, to want, means; that there may be no mistake in +the word. To want, then, signifies this; to be without that +which you would be glad to have: for inclination for a thing +is implied in the word want; excepting when we use the +word in an entirely different sense, as we do when we say that +a fever is wanting to any one. For it admits of a different +interpretation, when you are without a certain thing, and are +sensible that you are without it, but yet can easily dispense +with having it. <q>To want,</q> then, is an expression which you +cannot apply to the dead, nor is the mere fact of wanting +something necessarily lamentable. The proper expression +ought to be, <q>that they want a good,</q> and that is an evil. +</p> + +<p> +But a living man does not want a good, unless he is distressed +without it; and yet, we can easily understand how +any man alive can be without a kingdom. But this cannot +be predicated of you with any accuracy: it might have been +asserted of Tarquin, when he was driven from his kingdom: +but when such an expression is used respecting the dead it +is absolutely unintelligible. For to want, implies to be +sensible; but the dead are insensible; therefore the dead +can be in no want. +</p> + +<p> +XXXVII. But what occasion is there to philosophize here, +in a matter with which we see that philosophy is but little +concerned? How often have not only our generals, but +whole armies, rushed on certain death! but if it had been a +thing to be feared, L. Brutus would never have fallen in fight, +to prevent the return of that tyrant whom he had expelled; +nor would Decius the father have been slain in fighting with +<pb n='324'/><anchor id='Pg324'/> +the Latins; nor would his son, when engaged with the +Etruscans, nor his grandson with Pyrrhus, have exposed themselves +to the enemy's darts. Spain would never have seen, in +one campaign, the Scipios fall fighting for their country; nor +would the plains of Cannæ have witnessed the death of +Paulus and Geminus; or Venusia, that of Marcellus: nor +would the Latins have beheld the death of Albinus; nor the +Lucanians, that of Gracchus. But are any of these miserable +now? nay, they were not so even at the first moment after +they had breathed their last: nor can any one be miserable +after he has lost all sensation. Oh, but the mere circumstance +of being without sensation is miserable. It might be so if +being without sensation were the same thing as wanting it; +but as it is evident there can be nothing of any kind in that +which has no existence, what can there be afflicting to that +which can neither feel want, nor be sensible of anything? +We might be said to have repeated this over too often, only +that here lies all that the soul shudders at, from the fear of +death. For whoever can clearly apprehend that which is as +manifest as the light, that when both soul and body are consumed, +and there is a total destruction, then that which was +an animal, becomes nothing; will clearly see, that there is no +difference between a Hippocentaur, which never had existence, +and king Agamemnon; and that M. Camillus is no more +concerned about this present civil war, than I was at the sacking +of Rome, when he was living. +</p> + +<p> +XXXVIII. Why, then, should Camillus be affected with +the thoughts of these things happening three hundred and +fifty years after his time? And why should I be uneasy if I +were to expect that some nation might possess itself of this +city, ten thousand years hence? Because so great is our +regard for our country, as not to be measured by our own +feeling, but by its own actual safety. +</p> + +<p> +Death, then, which threatens us daily from a thousand +accidents, and which, by reason of the shortness of life, can +never be far off, does not deter a wise man from making such +provision for his country and his family, as he hopes may last +for ever; and from regarding posterity, of which he can never +have any real perception, as belonging to himself. Wherefore +a man may act for eternity, even though he be persuaded +that his soul is mortal; not, indeed, from a desire of glory, +<pb n='325'/><anchor id='Pg325'/> +which he will be insensible of, but from a principle of virtue, +which glory will inevitably attend, though that is not his +object. The process, indeed, of nature is this; that just in the +same manner as our birth was the beginning of things with us, +so death will be the end; and as we were no ways concerned +with anything before we were born, so neither shall we be +after we are dead; and in this state of things where can the +evil be? since death has no connexion with either the living +or the dead; the one have no existence at all, the other are +not yet affected by it. They who make the least of death +consider it as having a great resemblance to sleep; as if any +one would choose to live ninety years on condition that, at +the expiration of sixty, he should sleep out the remainder. +The very swine would not accept of life on those terms, much +less I: Endymion, indeed, if you listen to fables, slept once +on a time, on Latmus, a mountain of Caria, and for such a +length of time that I imagine he is not as yet awake. Do +you think that he is concerned at the Moon's being in difficulties, +though it was by her that he was thrown into that +sleep, in order that she might kiss him while sleeping; for what +should he be concerned for who has not even any sensation? +You look on sleep as an image of death, and you take that on +you daily; and have you, then, any doubt that there is no +sensation in death, when you see there is none in sleep, +which is its near resemblance? +</p> + +<p> +XXXIX. Away, then, with those follies which are little +better than the old women's dreams, such as that it is +miserable to die before our time. What time do you mean? +That of nature? But she has only lent you life, as she might +lend you money, without fixing any certain time for its repayment. +Have you any grounds of complaint, then, that +she recals it at her pleasure? for you received it on these +terms. They that complain thus, allow, that if a young child +dies the survivors ought to bear his loss with equanimity; +that if an infant in the cradle dies, they ought not even to +utter a complaint; and yet nature has been more severe +with them in demanding back what she gave. They answer +by saying, that such have not tasted the sweets of life; while +the other had begun to conceive hopes of great happiness, +and indeed had begun to realize them. Men judge better +in other things, and allow a part to be preferable to none; +why do they not admit the same estimate in life? Though +<pb n='326'/><anchor id='Pg326'/> +Callimachus does not speak amiss in saying, that more tears +had flowed from Priam than his son; yet they are thought +happier who die after they have reached old age. It would +be hard to say why; for I do not apprehend that any one, +if a longer life were granted to him, would find it happier. +There is nothing more agreeable to a man than prudence, +which old age most certainly bestows on a man, though it +may strip him of everything else; but what age is long? or +what is there at all long to a man? Does not +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Old age, though unregarded, still attend</l> +<l>On childhood's pastimes, as the cares of men?</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +But because there is nothing beyond old age, we call that +long; all these things are said to be long or short, according +to the proportion of time they were given us for. Aristotle +saith, there is a kind of insect near the river Hypanis, which +runs from a certain part of Europe into the Pontus, whose +life consists but of one day; those that die at the eighth hour, +die in full age; those who die when the sun sets are very old, +especially when the days are at the longest. Compare our +longest life with eternity and we shall be found almost as +short-lived as those little animals. +</p> + +<p> +XL. Let us, then, despise all these follies—for what softer +name can I give to such levities?—and let us lay the foundation +of our happiness in the strength and greatness of our +minds, in a contempt and disregard of all earthly things, +and in the practice of every virtue. For at present we are +enervated by the softness of our imaginations, so that, should +we leave this world before the promises of our fortune-tellers +are made good to us, we should think ourselves deprived of +some great advantages, and seem disappointed and forlorn. +But if, through life, we are in continual suspense, still expecting, +still desiring, and are in continual pain and torture, good +Gods! how pleasant must that journey be which ends in +security and ease! How pleased am I with Theramenes! +of how exalted a soul does he appear! For, although we +never read of him without tears, yet that illustrious man is +not to be lamented in his death, who, when he had been +imprisoned by the command of the thirty tyrants, drank off, +at one draught, as if he had been thirsty, the poisoned cup, +and threw the remainder out of it with such force, that it +sounded as it fell; and then, on hearing the sound of the +drops, he said, with a smile, <q>I drink this to the most excellent +<pb n='327'/><anchor id='Pg327'/> +Critias,</q> who had been his most bitter enemy; for it is +customary among the Greeks, at their banquets, to name the +person to whom they intend to deliver the cup. This celebrated +man was pleasant to the last, even when he had +received the poison into his bowels, and truly foretold the +death of that man whom he named when he drank the poison, +and that death soon followed. Who that thinks death an +evil, could approve of the evenness of temper in this great +man at the instant of dying? Socrates came, a few years +after, to the same prison and the same cup, by as great +iniquity on the part of his judges as the tyrants displayed +when they executed Theramenes. What a speech is that +which Plato makes him deliver before his judges, after they +had condemned him to death! +</p> + +<p> +XLI. <q>I am not without hopes, O judges, that it is a +favourable circumstance for me that I am condemned to die; +for one of these two things must necessarily happen, either +that death will deprive me entirely of all sense, or else, that +by dying I shall go from hence into some other place; wherefore, +if all sense is utterly extinguished, and if death is like +that sleep which sometimes is so undisturbed as to be even +without the visions of dreams—in that case, O ye good Gods! +what gain is it to die! or what length of days can be imagined +which would be preferable to such a night? And if the +constant course of future time is to resemble that night, who +is happier than I am? But if, on the other hand, what is said +be true, namely, that death is but a removal to those +regions where the souls of the departed dwell, then that state +must be more happy still, to have escaped from those who call +themselves judges, and to appear before such as are truly so, +Minos, Rhadamanthus, Æacus, Triptolemus, and to meet with +those who have lived with justice and probity!<note place='foot'><p>This +idea is beautifully expanded by Byron:— +</p> +<p> +Yet if, as holiest men have deem'd, there be<lb/> +A land of souls beyond that sable shore<lb/> +To shame the doctrine of the Sadducee<lb/> +And sophist, madly vain of dubious lore,<lb/> +How sweet it were in concert to adore<lb/> +With those who made our mortal labours light,<lb/> +To hear each voice we fear'd to hear no more,<lb/> +Behold each mighty shade reveal'd to sight,<lb/> +The Bactrian, Samian sage, and all who taught the right. +</p> +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>Childe Harold</hi>, ii. 8. +</p></note> Can this +<pb n='328'/><anchor id='Pg328'/> +change of abode appear otherwise than great to you? What +bounds can you set to the value of conversing with Orpheus, +and Musæus, and Homer, and Hesiod? I would even, were +it possible, willingly die often, in order to prove the certainty +of what I speak of. What delight must it be to meet with +Palamedes, and Ajax, and others, who have been betrayed by +the iniquity of their judges! Then, also, should I experience +the wisdom of even that king of kings, who led his vast +troops to Troy, and the prudence of Ulysses and Sisyphus: +nor should I then be condemned for prosecuting my inquiries +on such subjects in the same way in which I have done here +on earth. And even you, my judges, you, I mean, who have +voted for my acquittal, do not you fear death, for nothing +bad can befal a good man, whether he be alive or dead; nor +are his concerns ever overlooked by the Gods, nor in my case +either has this befallen me by chance; and I have nothing to +charge those men with who accused or condemned me, but +the fact that they believed that they were doing me harm.</q> +In this manner he proceeded: there is no part of his speech +which I admire more than his last words: <q>But it is time,</q> +says he, <q>for me now to go hence, that I may die; and for +you, that you may continue to live. Which condition of the +two is the best, the immortal Gods know; but I do not +believe that any mortal man does.</q> +</p> + +<p> +XLII. Surely I would rather have had this man's soul, +than all the fortunes of those who sat in judgment on him; +although that very thing which he says no one except the +Gods knows, namely, whether life or death is most preferable, +he knows himself, for he had previously stated his opinion on +it; but he maintained to the last that favourite maxim of his, +of affirming nothing. And let us, too, adhere to this rule of +not thinking anything an evil, which is a general provision of +nature: and let us assure ourselves, that if death is an evil, +it is an eternal evil, for death seems to be the end of a +miserable life; but if death is a misery, there can be no end of +that. But why do I mention Socrates, or Theramenes, men +distinguished by the glory of virtue and wisdom? when a +certain Lacedæmonian, whose name is not so much as known, +held death in such contempt, that, when led to it by the +ephori, he bore a cheerful and pleasant countenance; and, +when he was asked by one of his enemies whether he despised +<pb n='329'/><anchor id='Pg329'/> +the laws of Lycurgus? <q>On the contrary,</q> answered he, <q>I +am greatly obliged to him, for he has amerced me in a fine +which I can pay without borrowing, or taking up money at +interest.</q> This was a man worthy of Sparta! and I am +almost persuaded of his innocence because of the greatness of +his soul. Our own city has produced many such. But why +should I name generals, and other men of high rank, when +Cato could write, that legions have marched with alacrity to +that place from whence they never expected to return? With +no less greatness of soul fell the Lacedæmonians at Thermopylæ, +on whom Simonides wrote the following epitaph:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Go, stranger, tell the Spartans, here we lie,</l> +<l>Who to support their laws durst boldly die.<note place='foot'><p>The +epitaph in the original is,— +</p> +<p> +Ὥ ξεῖν᾽ ἀγγεῖλον Λακεδαιμονίοις ὅτι τῇδε<lb/> +κείμεθα, τοῖς κείνων πειθόμενοι νομίμοις. +</p></note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +What was it that Leonidas, their general, said to them? +<q>March on with courage, my Lacedæmonians; to-night, +perhaps, we shall sup in the regions below.</q> This was a +brave nation whilst the laws of Lycurgus were in force. One +of them, when a Persian had said to him in conversation, +<q>We shall hide the sun from your sight by the number of +our arrows and darts;</q> replied, <q>We shall fight then in the +shade.</q> Do I talk of their men? how great was that Lacedæmonian +woman, who had sent her son to battle, and when +she heard that he was slain, said, <q>I bore him for that +purpose, that you might have a man who durst die for his +country.</q> However, it is a matter of notoriety that the +Spartans were bold and hardy, for the discipline of a republic +has great influence. +</p> + +<p> +XLIII. What, then, have we not reason to admire Theodorus +the Cyrenean, a philosopher of no small distinction? +who, when Lysimachus threatened to crucify him, bade him +keep those menaces for his courtiers: <q>to Theodorus it makes +no difference whether he rot in the air or under ground.</q> +By which saying of the philosopher I am reminded to say +something of the custom of funerals and sepulture, and of +funeral ceremonies, which is, indeed, not a difficult subject, +especially if we recollect what has been before said about insensibility. +The opinion of Socrates respecting this matter +is clearly stated in the book which treats of his death; or +<pb n='330'/><anchor id='Pg330'/> +which we have already said so much; for when he had +discussed the immortality of the soul, and when the time +of his dying was approaching rapidly, being asked by Criton +how he would be buried, <q>I have taken a great deal of +pains," saith he, "my friends, to no purpose, for I have +not convinced our Criton, that I shall fly from hence, and +leave no part of me behind: notwithstanding, Criton, if you +can overtake me, wheresoever you get hold of me, bury me +as you please: but believe me, none of you will be able to +catch me when I have flown away from hence.</q> That was +excellently said, inasmuch as he allows his friend to do as he +pleased, and yet shows his indifference about anything of this +kind. Diogenes was rougher, though of the same opinion, +but in his character of a Cynic, he expressed himself in a +somewhat harsher manner; he ordered himself to be thrown +anywhere without being buried. And when his friends +replied, <q>What, to the birds and beasts?</q> <q>By no means,</q> +saith he; <q>place my staff near me, that I may drive them +away.</q> <q>How can you do that,</q> they answer, <q>for you will +not perceive them?</q> <q>How am I then injured by being +torn by those animals, if I have no sensation?</q> Anaxagoras, +when he was at the point of death, at Lampsacus, and was +asked by his friends, whether, if anything should happen to +him, he would not choose to be carried to Clazomenæ, his +country, made this excellent answer,—<q>There is,</q> says he, +<q>no occasion for that, for all places are at an equal distance +from the infernal regions.</q> There is one thing to be observed +with respect to the whole subject of burial, that it relates to +the body, whether the soul live or die. Now with regard to +the body, it is clear that whether the soul live or die, that +has no sensation. +</p> + +<p> +XLIV. But all things are full of errors. Achilles drags +Hector, tied to his chariot; he thinks, I suppose, he tears +his flesh, and that Hector feels the pain of it; therefore, he +avenges himself on him, as he imagines; but Hecuba bewails +this as a sore misfortune— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>I saw (a dreadful sight!) great Hector slain,</l> +<l>Dragg'd at Achilles' car along the plain.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +What Hector? or how long will he be Hector? Accius is +better in this, and Achilles, too, is sometimes reasonable— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>I Hector's body to his sire convey'd,</l> +<l>Hector I sent to the infernal shade.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<pb n='331'/><anchor id='Pg331'/> + +<p> +It was not Hector that you dragged along, but a body that +had been Hector's. Here another starts from underground, +and will not suffer his mother to sleep— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>To thee I call, my once loved parent, hear,</l> +<l>Nor longer with thy sleep relieve thy care;</l> +<l>Thine eye which pities not is closed—arise,</l> +<l>Ling'ring I wait the unpaid obsequies.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +When these verses are sung with a slow and melancholy tune, +so as to affect the whole theatre with sadness, one can scarce +help thinking those unhappy that are unburied— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Ere the devouring dogs and hungry vultures ... +</quote> + +<p> +He is afraid he shall not have the use of his limbs so well if +they are torn to pieces, but is under no such apprehensions if +they are burned— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Nor leave my naked bones, my poor remains,</l> +<l>To shameful violence, and bloody stains.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +I do not understand what he could fear who could pour forth +such excellent verses to the sound of the flute. We must, +therefore, adhere to this, that nothing is to be regarded after +we are dead, though many people revenge themselves on +their dead enemies. Thyestes pours forth several curses in +some good lines of Ennius, praying, first of all, that Atreus +may perish by a shipwreck, which is certainly a very terrible +thing, for such a death is not free from very grievous sensations. +Then follow these unmeaning expressions:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l rend='margin-left: 12'>May</l> +<l>On the sharp rock his mangled carcase lie,</l> +<l>His entrails torn, to hungry birds a prey;</l> +<l>May he convulsive writhe his bleeding side,</l> +<l>And with his clotted gore the stones be dyed.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +The rocks themselves were not more destitute of feeling than +he who was hanging to them by his side; though Thyestes +imagines he is wishing him the greatest torture. It would +be torture indeed, if he were sensible; but as he is not, it can +be none; then how very unmeaning is this! +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Let him, still hovering o'er the Stygian wave,</l> +<l>Ne'er reach the body's peaceful port, the grave.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +You see under what mistaken notions all this is said. He +imagines the body has its haven, and that the dead are at rest +in their graves. Pelops was greatly to blame in not having +informed and taught his son what regard was due to everything. +</p> + +<pb n='332'/><anchor id='Pg332'/> + +<p> +XLV. But what occasion is there to animadvert on the +opinions of individuals, when we may observe whole nations +to fall into all sorts of errors? The Egyptians embalm their +dead, and keep them in their houses; the Persians dress +them over with wax, and then bury them, that they may +preserve their bodies as long as possible. It is customary +with the Magi, to bury none of their order, unless they have +been first torn by wild beasts. In Hyrcania, the people +maintain dogs for the public use, the nobles have their +own; and we know that they have a good breed of dogs; +but every one, according to his ability, provides himself with +some, in order to be torn by them; and they hold that to be +the best kind of interment. Chrysippus, who is curious in +all kinds of historical facts, has collected many other things +of this kind, but some of them are so offensive as not to +admit of being related. All that has been said of burying, +is not worth our regard with respect to ourselves, though it +is not to be neglected as to our friends, provided we are +thoroughly aware that the dead are insensible; but the living, +indeed, should consider what is due to custom and opinion, +only they should at the same time consider that the dead are +no ways interested in it. But death truly is then met with +the greatest tranquillity, when the dying man can comfort +himself with his own praise. No one dies too soon who has +finished the course of perfect virtue. I myself have known +many occasions when I have seemed in danger of immediate +death; oh! how I wish it had come to me, for I have gained +nothing by the delay. I had gone over and over again the +duties of life; nothing remained but to contend with fortune. +If reason, then, cannot sufficiently fortify us to enable us to +feel a contempt for death, at all events, let our past life prove +that we have lived long enough, and even longer than was +necessary; for notwithstanding the deprivation of sense, the +dead are not without that good which peculiarly belongs to +them, namely, the praise and glory which they have acquired, +even though they are not sensible of it. For although +there be nothing in glory to make it desirable, yet it follows +virtue as its shadow. And the genuine judgment of the +multitude on good men, if ever they form any, is more to +their own praise, than of any real advantage to the dead; yet +I cannot say, however it may be received, that Lycurgus and +<pb n='333'/><anchor id='Pg333'/> +Solon have no glory from their laws, and from the political +constitution which they established in their country; or that +Themistocles and Epaminondas have not glory from their +martial virtue. +</p> + +<p> +XLVI. For Neptune shall sooner bury Salamis itself with +his waters, than the memory of the trophies gained there; +and the Bœotian Leuetra shall perish, sooner than the glory +of that great battle. And longer still shall fame be before it +deserts Curius, and Fabricius, and Calatinus, and the two +Scipios, and the two Africani, and Maximus, and Marcellus, +and Paulus, and Cato, and Lælius, and numberless other +heroes; and whoever has caught any resemblance of them, +not estimating it by common fame, but by the real applause +of good men, may with confidence, when the occasion requires, +approach death, on which we are sure that even if the chief +good is not continued, at least no evil is. Such a man would +even wish to die, whilst in prosperity; for all the favours that +could be heaped on him, would not be so agreeable to him, as +the loss of them would be painful. That speech of the Lacedæmonian +seems to have the same meaning, who, when +Diagoras the Rhodian, who had himself been a conqueror at +the Olympic games, saw two of his own sons conquerors there +on the same day, approached the old man, and congratulating +him, said, <q>You should die now, Diagoras, for no greater +happiness can possibly await you.</q> The Greeks look on these +as great things; perhaps they think too highly of them, or +rather they did so then. And so he who said this to Diagoras, +looking on it as something very glorious, that three men out +of one family should have been conquerors there, thought it +could answer no purpose to him, to continue any longer in +life, where he could only be exposed to a reverse of fortune. +</p> + +<p> +I might have given you a sufficient answer, as it seems to +me, on this point, in a few words, as you had allowed the +dead were not exposed to any positive evil; but I have spoken +at greater length on the subject for this reason, because this +is our greatest consolation in the losing and bewailing of our +friends. For we ought to bear with moderation any grief +which arises from ourselves, or is endured on our own +account, lest we should seem to be too much influenced by +self-love. But should we suspect our departed friends to be +under those evils, which they are generally imagined to be +<pb n='334'/><anchor id='Pg334'/> +and to be sensible of them, then such a suspicion would give +us intolerable pain; and accordingly I wished, for my own +sake, to pluck up this opinion by the roots, and on that +account I have been perhaps somewhat more prolix than was +necessary. +</p> + +<p> +XLVII. <hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> More prolix than was necessary? certainly +not, in my opinion. For I was induced by the former part +of your speech, to wish to die; but, by the latter, sometimes +not to be unwilling, and at others to be wholly indifferent +about it. But the effect of your whole argument is, that I +am convinced that death ought not to be classed among the +evils. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Do you, then, expect that I am to give you a regular +peroration, like the rhetoricians, or shall I forego that art? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I would not have you give over an art which you have +set off to such advantage; and you were in the right to do +so, for, to speak the truth, it also has set you off. But what is +that peroration? for I should be glad to hear it, whatever it is. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> It is customary in the schools, to produce the opinions +of the immortal gods on death; nor are these opinions the +fruits of the imagination alone of the lecturers, but they have +the authority of Herodotus and many others. Cleobis and +Biton are the first they mention, sons of the Argive priestess; +the story is a well-known one. As it was necessary that she +should be drawn in a chariot to a certain annual sacrifice, +which was solemnized at a temple some considerable distance +from the town, and the cattle that were to draw the chariot +had not arrived, those two young men whom I have just +mentioned, pulling off their garments, and anointing their +bodies with oil, harnessed themselves to the yoke. And in +this manner the priestess was conveyed to the temple; +and when the chariot had arrived at the proper place, she is +said to have entreated the goddess to bestow on them, as a +reward for their piety, the greatest gift that a God could +confer on man. And the young men, after having feasted +with their mother, fell asleep; and in the morning they were +found dead. Trophonius and Agamedes are said to have put +up the same petition, for they having built a temple to +Apollo at Delphi, offered supplications to the god, and desired +of him some extraordinary reward for their care and labour, +particularizing nothing, but asking for whatever was best for +<pb n='335'/><anchor id='Pg335'/> +men. Accordingly, Apollo signified to them that he would +bestow it on them in three days, and on the third day at +daybreak they were found dead. And so they say that this +was a formal decision pronounced by that god, to whom the +rest of the deities have assigned the province of divining with +an accuracy superior to that of all the rest. +</p> + +<p> +XLVIII. There is also a story told of Silenus, who, when +taken prisoner by Midas, is said to have made him this +present for his ransom; namely, that he informed him<note place='foot'><p>This +was expressed in the Greek verses— +</p> +<p> +Ἀρχὴν μὲν μὴ φῦναι ἐπιχθονίοισιν ἄριστον,<lb/> +φύντα δ᾽ ὅπως ὤκιστα πύλας Ἀίδαο περῆσαι; +</p> +<p> +which by some authors are attributed to Homer. +</p></note> that +never to have been born, was by far the greatest blessing +that could happen to man; and that the next best thing was, +to die very soon; which very opinion Euripides makes use of +in his Cresphontes, saying,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>When man is born, 'tis fit, with solemn show,</l> +<l>We speak our sense of his approaching woe,</l> +<l>With other gestures, and a different eye,</l> +<l>Proclaim our pleasure when he's bid to die.<note place='foot'><p>This +is the first fragment of the Cresphontes.—Ed. Var. vii. p. 594 +</p> +<p> +Ἔδει γὰρ ἡμᾶς σύλλογον ποιουμένους<lb/> +Τὸν φύντα θρηνεῖν, εὶς ὅσ᾽ ἔρχεται κακά.<lb/> +Τὸν δ᾽ αὖ θανόντα καὶ πόνων πεπαυμένον<lb/> +χαίροντας εὐφημοῖντας ἐκπέμπειν δόμων. +</p></note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +There is something like this in Crantor's Consolation; for he +says, that Terinæus of Elysia, when he was bitterly lamenting +the loss of his son, came to a place of divination to be informed +why he was visited with so great affliction, and +received in his tablet these three verses,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Thou fool, to murmur at Euthynous' death</l> +<l>The blooming youth to fate resigns his breath:</l> +<l>The fate, whereon your happiness depends,</l> +<l>At once the parent and the son befriends.<note place='foot'><p>The +Greek verses are quoted by Plutarch— +</p> + +<p> +... Ἤπου νήπιε, ἠλίθιοι φρένες ἀνδρᾶν<lb/> +Εὐθύνοος κεῖται μοιριδίῳ θανάτῳ<lb/> +Οὐκ ἦν γὰρ ζώειν καλὸν αὐτῷ οὄτε γονεῦσι. +</p></note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +On these and similar authorities they affirm that the question +has been determined by the Gods. Nay more; Alcidamas, +an ancient rhetorician of the very highest reputation, wrote +<pb n='336'/><anchor id='Pg336'/> +even in praise of death, which he endeavoured to establish by +an enumeration of the evils of life; and his Dissertation has +a great deal of eloquence in it, but he was unacquainted with +the more refined arguments of the philosophers. By the +orators, indeed, to die for our country is always considered +not only as glorious, but even as happy; they go back as far +as Erechtheus,<note place='foot'>This refers to the +story that when Eumolpus, the son of Neptune, +whose assistance the Eleusinians had called in against the Athenians, +had been slain by the Athenians, an oracle demanded the sacrifice of one +of the daughters of Erechtheus, the King of Athens. And when one was +drawn by lot, the others voluntarily accompanied her to death.</note> +whose very daughters underwent death, for the +safety of their fellow-citizens: they instance Codrus, who +threw himself into the midst of his enemies, dressed like a +common man, that his royal robes might not betray him; +because the oracle had declared the Athenians conquerors, if +their king was slain. Menœceus<note place='foot'>Menœceus was +son of Creon, and in the war of the Argives against +Thebes, Teresias declared that the Thebans should conquer if Menœceus +would sacrifice himself for his country; and accordingly he killed himself +outside the gates of Thebes.</note> is not overlooked by them, +who, in compliance with the injunctions of an oracle, freely +shed his blood for his country. Iphigenia ordered herself to +be conveyed to Aulis, to be sacrificed, that her blood might +be the cause of spilling that of her enemies. +</p> + +<p> +XLIX. From hence they proceed to instances of a fresher +date. Harmodius and Aristogiton are in everybody's mouth; +the memory of Leonidas the Lacedæmonian, and Epaminondas +the Theban, is as fresh as ever. Those philosophers +were not acquainted with the many instances in our country—to +give a list of whom would take up too much time—who, +we see, considered death desirable as long as it was accompanied +with honour. But, notwithstanding this is the correct +view of the case, we must use much persuasion, speak as if +we were endued with some higher authority, in order to +bring men to begin to wish to die, or cease to be afraid of +death. For if that last day does not occasion an entire +extinction, but a change of abode only, what can be more +desirable? and if it on the other hand destroys, and absolutely +puts an end to us, what can be preferable to the having +a deep sleep fall on us, in the midst of the fatigues of life, and +being thus overtaken, to sleep to eternity? And, should this +<pb n='337'/><anchor id='Pg337'/> +really be the case, then Ennius's language is more consistent +with wisdom than Solon's; for our Ennius says— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Let none bestow upon my passing bier</l> +<l>One needless sigh or unavailing tear.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +But the wise Solon says— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Let me not unlamented die, but o'er my bier</l> +<l>Burst forth the tender sigh, the friendly tear.<note place='foot'><p>The +Greek is, +</p> +<p> +μήδε μοι ἄκλαυστος θάνατος μόλοι, ἀλλὰ φίλοισι<lb/> +ποιήσαιμι θανὼν ἄλγεα καὶ στοναχάς. +</p></note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +But let us, if indeed it should be our fate to know the time +which is appointed by the Gods for us to die, prepare ourselves +for it, with a cheerful and grateful mind, thinking +ourselves like men who are delivered from a jail, and released +from their fetters, for the purpose of going back to our +eternal habitation, which may be more emphatically called +our own; or else to be divested of all sense and trouble. If, +on the other hand, we should have no notice given us of this +decree, yet let us cultivate such a disposition as to look on +that formidable hour of death as happy for us, though +shocking to our friends; and let us never imagine anything +to be an evil, which is an appointment of the immortal Gods, +or of nature, the common parent of all. For it is not by +hazard or without design that we have been born and situated +as we have. On the contrary, beyond all doubt there is a +certain power, which consults the happiness of human nature; +and this would neither have produced nor provided for a +being, which after having gone through the labours of life +was to fall into eternal misery by death. Let us rather infer, +that we have a retreat and haven prepared for us, which I +wish we could crowd all sail and arrive at; but though the +winds should not serve, and we should be driven back, yet we +shall to a certainty arrive at that point eventually, though +somewhat later. But how can that be miserable for one +which all must of necessity undergo? I have given you a +peroration, that you might not think I had overlooked or +neglected anything. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I am persuaded you have not; and, indeed, that peroration +has confirmed me. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I am glad it has had that effect; but it is now time to +consult our health; to-morrow, and all the time we continue +<pb n='338'/><anchor id='Pg338'/> +in this Tusculan villa, let us consider this subject; and especially +those portions of it which may ease our pain, alleviate +our fears, and lessen our desires, which is the greatest advantage +we can reap from the whole of philosophy. +</p> + +</div> + +<div> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>Book II. On Bearing Pain.</head> + +<p> +I. Neoptolemus, in Ennius, indeed, says, that the study of +philosophy was expedient for him; but that it required +limiting to a few subjects, for that to give himself up entirely +to it, was what he did not approve of. And for my part, +Brutus, I am perfectly persuaded that it is expedient for me +to philosophize; for what can I do better, especially as I have +no regular occupation? but I am not for limiting my philosophy +to a few subjects, as he does; for philosophy is a +matter in which it is difficult to acquire a little knowledge +without acquainting yourself with many, or all its branches, +nor can you well take a few subjects without selecting them +out of a great number; nor can any one, who has acquired +the knowledge of a few points, avoid endeavouring with the +same eagerness to understand more. But still, in a busy life, +and in one mainly occupied with military matters, such as +that of Neoptolemus was at that time, even that limited +degree of acquaintance with philosophy may be of great +use, and may yield fruit, not perhaps so plentiful as a +thorough knowledge of the whole of philosophy, but yet such +as in some degree may at times deliver us from the dominion +of our desires, our sorrows, and our fears; just as the effect +of that discussion which we lately maintained in my Tusculan +villa seemed to be, that a great contempt of death was +engendered; which contempt is of no small efficacy towards +delivering the mind from fear; for whoever dreads what cannot +be avoided, can by no means live with a quiet and tranquil +mind. But he who is under no fear of death, not only because +it is a thing absolutely inevitable, but also because he is persuaded +that death itself hath nothing terrible in it, provides +himself with a very great resource towards a happy life. However, +I am not ignorant, that many will argue strenuously +<pb n='339'/><anchor id='Pg339'/> +against us; and, indeed, that is a thing which can never be +avoided, except by abstaining from writing at all. For if my +Orations, which were addressed to the judgment and approbation +of the people, (for that is a popular art, and the object +of oratory is popular applause,) have been criticised by some +people who are inclined to withhold their praise from every +thing but what they are persuaded they can attain to themselves, +and who limit their ideas of good speaking by the +hopes which they conceive of what they themselves may +attain to, and who declare, when they are overwhelmed with +a flow of words and sentences, that they prefer the utmost +poverty of thought and expression to that plenty and copiousness; +(from which arose the Attic kind of oratory, which +they who professed it were strangers to, though they have +now been some time silenced, and laughed out of the very +courts of justice;) what may I not expect, when at present I +cannot have the least countenance from the people, by whom +I used to be upheld before? For philosophy is satisfied with +a few judges, and of her own accord industriously avoids the +multitude, who are jealous of it, and utterly displeased with +it; so that, should any one undertake to cry down the whole +of it, he would have the people on his side; while, if he should +attack that school which I particularly profess, he would have +great assistance from those of the other philosophers. +</p> + +<p> +II. But I have answered the detractors of philosophy in +general, in my Hortensius. And what I had to say in favour +of the Academics, is, I think, explained with sufficient accuracy +in my four books of the Academic Question. +</p> + +<p> +But yet I am so far from desiring that no one should write +against me, that it is what I most earnestly wish; for philosophy +would never have been in such esteem in Greece itself, +if it had not been for the strength which it acquired from the +contentions and disputations of the most learned men; and +therefore I recommend all men who have abilities to follow +my advice, to snatch this art also from declining Greece, and +to transport it to this city; as our ancestors by their study +and industry have imported all their other arts, which were +worth having. Thus the praise of oratory, raised from a low +degree, is arrived at such perfection, that it must now decline, +and, as is the nature of all things, verge to its dissolution in +a very short time. Let philosophy then derive its birth in +<pb n='340'/><anchor id='Pg340'/> +Latin language from this time, and let us lend it our +assistance, and bear patiently to be contradicted and refuted; and +although those men may dislike such treatment who are +bound and devoted to certain predetermined opinions, and are +under such obligations to maintain them that they are forced, +for the sake of consistency, to adhere to them even though +they do not themselves wholly approve of them; we, on the +other hand, who pursue only probabilities, and who cannot go +beyond that which seems really likely, can confute others +without obstinacy, and are prepared to be confuted ourselves +without resentment. Besides, if these studies are ever brought +home to us, we shall not want even Greek libraries, in which +there is an infinite number of books, by reason of the multitude +of authors among them;—for it is a common practice +with many to repeat the same things which have been written +by others, which serves no purpose, but to stuff their shelves: +and this will be our case, too, if many apply themselves to +this study. +</p> + +<p> +III. But let us excite those, if possible, who have had a +liberal education, and are masters of an elegant style, and who +philosophize with reason and method. +</p> + +<p> +For there is a certain class of them who would willingly be +called philosophers, whose books in our language are said to +be numerous, and which I do not despise, for indeed I never +read them: but still because the authors themselves declare +that they write without any regularity, or method, or elegance, or +ornament, I do not care to read what must be so void of entertainment. +There is no one in the least acquainted with literature, +who does not know the style and sentiments of that school; +wherefore, since they are at no pains to express themselves +well, I do not see why they should be read by anybody except +by one another: let them read them, if they please, who are of +the same opinions: for in the same manner as all men read +Plato, and the other Socratics, with those who sprung from +them, even those who do not agree with their opinions, or are +very indifferent about them; but scarcely any one except +their own disciples, take Epicurus, or Metrodorus, into their +hands; so they alone read these Latin books, who think that the +arguments contained in them are sound. But, in my opinion, +whatever is published, should be recommended to the reading +of every man of learning; and though we may not succeed in +<pb n='341'/><anchor id='Pg341'/> +this ourselves, yet nevertheless we must be sensible that this +ought to be the aim of every writer. And on this account +I have always been pleased with the custom of the Peripatetics, +and Academics, of disputing on both sides of the +question; not solely from its being the only method of discovering +what is probable on every subject, but also because +it affords the greatest scope for practising eloquence; a method +that Aristotle first made use of, and afterward all the Aristotelians; +and in our own memory Philo, whom we have often +heard, appointed one time to treat of the precepts of the +rhetoricians, and another for philosophical discussion, to which +custom I was brought to conform by my friends at my +Tusculum; and accordingly our leisure time was spent in this +manner. And therefore, as yesterday before noon, we applied +ourselves to speaking; and in the afternoon went down into +the Academy: the discussions which were held there I have +acquainted you with, not in the manner of a narration, but +in almost the very same words which were employed in the +debate. +</p> + +<p> +IV. The discourse, then, was introduced in this manner, +whilst we were walking, and it was commenced by some such +an opening as this. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> It is not to be expressed how much I was delighted, or +rather edified, by your discourse of yesterday. For although +I am conscious to myself that I have never been too fond of +life, yet at times, when I have considered that there would be +an end to this life, and that I must some time or other part +with all its good things, a certain dread and uneasiness used +to intrude itself on my thoughts; but now, believe me, I am +so freed from that kind of uneasiness, that there is nothing +that I think less worth any regard. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I am not at all surprised at that, for it is the effect of +philosophy, which is the medicine of our souls; it banishes +all groundless apprehensions, frees us from desires, and drives +away fears: but it has not the same influence over all men; +it is of very great influence when it falls in with a disposition +well adapted to it. For not only does Fortune, as the old +proverb says, assist the bold, but reason does so in a still +greater degree; for it, by certain precepts, as it were, +strengthens even courage itself. You were born naturally +great and soaring, and with a contempt for all things which +<pb n='342'/><anchor id='Pg342'/> +pertain to man alone; therefore a discourse against death +took easy possession of a brave soul. But do you imagine +that these same arguments have any force with those very +persons who have invented, and canvassed, and published +them, excepting indeed some very few particular persons? +For how few philosophers will you meet with, whose life and +manners are conformable to the dictates of reason! who look +on their profession, not as a means of displaying their learning, +but as a rule for their own practice! who follow their +own precepts, and comply with, their own decrees! You may +see some of such levity, and such vanity, that it would have +been better for them to have been ignorant; some covetous of +money, some others eager for glory, many slaves to their lusts; +so that their discourses and their actions are most strangely +at variance; than which nothing in my opinion can be more +unbecoming: for just as if one who professed to teach grammar, +should speak with impropriety; or a master of music +sing out of tune; such conduct has the worse appearance in +these men, because they blunder in the very particular with +which they profess that they are well acquainted: so a philosopher, +who errs in the conduct of his life, is the more infamous, +because he is erring in the very thing which he pretends to +teach, and whilst he lays down rules to regulate life by, is +irregular in his own life. +</p> + +<p> +V. <hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Should this be the case, is it not to be feared that +you are dressing up philosophy in false colours? for what +stronger argument can there be that it is of little use, than +that some very profound philosophers live in a discreditable +manner? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> That, indeed, is no argument at all, for as all the fields +which are cultivated are not fruitful, (and this sentiment of +Accius is false, and asserted without any foundation, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>The ground you sow on, is of small avail;</l> +<l>To yield a crop good seed can never fail:)</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +it is not every mind which has been properly cultivated that +produces fruit;—and to go on with the comparison, as a field, +although it may be naturally fruitful cannot produce a crop, +without dressing, so neither can the mind, without education; +such is the weakness of either without the other. Whereas +philosophy is the culture of the mind: this it is which plucks +up vices by the roots; prepares the mind for the receiving of +<pb n='343'/><anchor id='Pg343'/> +seeds, commits them to it, or, as I may say, sows them, in +the hope that, when come to maturity, they may produce a +plentiful harvest. Let us proceed, then, as we begun; say, if +you please, what shall be the subject of our disputation. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I look on pain to be the greatest of all evils. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> What, even greater than infamy? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I dare not indeed assert that, and I blush to think I am +so soon driven from my ground. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> You would have had greater reason for blushing had +you persevered in it; for what is so unbecoming—what can +appear worse to you, than disgrace, wickedness, immorality? +To avoid which, what pain is there which we ought not (I will +not say to avoid shirking, but even) of our own accord to +encounter, and undergo, and even to court? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I am entirely of that opinion; but notwithstanding +that pain is not the greatest evil, yet surely it is an evil. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Do you perceive, then, how much of the terror of pain +you have given up on a small hint? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I see that plainly; but I should be glad to give up +more of it. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I will endeavour to make you do so, but it is a great +undertaking, and I must have a disposition on your part, +which is not inclined to offer any obstacles. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> You shall have such: for as I behaved yesterday, so +now I will follow reason wherever she leads. +</p> + +<p> +VI. <hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> First, then, I will speak of the weakness of many +philosophers, and those too of various sects; the head of whom, +both in authority and antiquity, was Aristippus, the pupil of +Socrates, who hesitated not to say, that pain was the greatest +of all evils. And after him Epicurus easily gave into this +effeminate and enervated doctrine. After him Hieronymus, +the Rhodian, said, that to be without pain was the chief +good, so great an evil did pain appear to him to be. The +rest, with the exceptions of Zeno, Aristo, Pyrrho, were +pretty much of the same opinion that you were of just +now, that it was indeed an evil, but that there were many +worse. When then nature herself and a certain generous +feeling of virtue at once prevents you from persisting in the +assertion that pain is the chief evil, and when you were driven +from such an opinion when disgrace was contrasted with pain, +shall philosophy, the preceptress of life, cling to this idea +<pb n='344'/><anchor id='Pg344'/> +for so many ages? What duty of life, what praise, what +reputation would be of such consequence that a man should +be desirous of gaining it at the expense of submitting to +bodily pain, when he has persuaded himself that pain is the +greatest evil? On the other side, what disgrace, what ignominy, +would he not submit to, that he might avoid pain, when persuaded +that it was the greatest of evils? Besides, what person, +if it be only true that pain is the greatest of evils, is not miserable, +not only when he actually feels pain, but also whenever +he is aware that it may befal him? And who is there whom +pain may not befal? so that it is clear that there is absolutely +no one who can possibly be happy. Metrodorus, indeed, thinks +that man perfectly happy, whose body is free from all disorders, +and who has an assurance that it will always continue +so; but who is there who can be assured of that? +</p> + +<p> +VII. But Epicurus, indeed, says such things that it should +seem that his design was only to make people laugh; for he +affirms somewhere, that if a wise man were to be burned, or +put to the torture,—you expect, perhaps, that he is going to +say he would bear it, he would support himself under it with +resolution! he would not yield to it, and that, by Hercules! +would he very commendable, and worthy of that very Hercules +whom I have just invoked: but even this will not +satisfy Epicurus, that robust and hardy man! No; his +wise man, even if he were in Phalaris's bull, would say, How +sweet it is! how little do I regard it! What sweet? is +it not sufficient, if it is not disagreeable? But those very +men who deny pain to be an evil, are not in the habit of +saying that it is agreeable to any one to be tormented; they +rather say, that it is cruel, or hard to bear, afflicting, unnatural, +but still not an evil: while this man who says that +it is the only evil, and the very worst of all evils, yet thinks +that a wise man would pronounce it sweet. I do not require +of you to speak of pain in the same words which Epicurus +uses—a man, as you know, devoted to pleasure: he may make +no difference, if he pleases, between Phalaris's bull, and his +own bed: but I cannot allow the wise man to be so indifferent +about pain. If he bears it with courage, it is sufficient; +that he should rejoice in it, I do not expect; for pain is, +beyond all question, sharp, bitter, against nature, hard to +submit to, and to bear. Observe Philoctetes: We may allow +<pb n='345'/><anchor id='Pg345'/> +him to lament, for he saw Hercules himself groaning loudly +through extremity of pain on mount Œta: the arrows with +which Hercules presented him, were then no consolation to +him, when +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>The viper's bite, impregnating his veins</l> +<l>With poison, rack'd him with its bitter pains.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +And therefore he cries out, desiring help, and wishing to die, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Oh! that some friendly hand its aid would lend,</l> +<l>My body from this rock's vast height to send</l> +<l>Into the briny deep! I'm all on fire,</l> +<l>And by this fatal wound must soon expire.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +It is hard to say that the man who was obliged to cry out +in this manner, was not oppressed with evil, and great evil +too. +</p> + +<p> +VIII. But let us observe Hercules himself, who was +subdued by pain at the very time when he was on the point of +attaining immortality by death. What words does Sophocles +here put in his mouth, in his Trachiniæ? who, when Deianira +had put upon him a tunic dyed in the centaur's blood, and it +stuck to his entrails, says, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>What tortures I endure no words can tell,</l> +<l>Far greater these, than those which erst befel</l> +<l>From the dire terror of thy consort, Jove;</l> +<l>E'en stern Eurystheus' dire command above;</l> +<l>This of thy daughter, Œneus, is the fruit,</l> +<l>Beguiling me with her envenom'd suit,</l> +<l>Whose close embrace doth on my entrails prey,</l> +<l>Consuming life; my lungs forbid to play;</l> +<l>The blood forsakes my veins, my manly heart</l> +<l>Forgets to beat; enervated, each part</l> +<l>Neglects its office, whilst my fatal doom</l> +<l>Proceeds ignobly from the weaver's loom.</l> +<l>The hand of foe ne'er hurt me, nor the fierce</l> +<l>Giant issuing from his parent earth.</l> +<l>Ne'er could the Centaur such a blow enforce,</l> +<l>No barbarous foe, nor all the Grecian force;</l> +<l>This arm no savage people could withstand,</l> +<l>Whose realms I traversed to reform the land.</l> +<l>Thus, though I ever bore a manly heart,</l> +<l>I fall a victim to a woman's art.</l> +</lg> + +<lg> +<l>IX. Assist, my son, if thou that name dost hear,</l> +<l>My groans preferring to thy mother's tear;</l> +<l>Convey her here, if, in thy pious heart,</l> +<l>Thy mother shares not an unequal part:</l> +<l>Proceed, be bold, thy father's fate bemoan,</l> +<l>Nations will join, you will not weep alone.</l> +<pb n='346'/><anchor id='Pg346'/> +<l>O what a sight is this same briny source,</l> +<l>Unknown before, through all my labours' course!</l> +<l>That virtue, which could brave each toil but late,</l> +<l>With woman's weakness now bewails its fate.</l> +<l>Approach, my son; behold thy father laid,</l> +<l>A wither'd carcase that implores thy aid;</l> +<l>Let all behold; and thou, imperious Jove,</l> +<l>On me direct thy lightning from above:</l> +<l>Now all its force the poison doth assume,</l> +<l>And my burnt entrails with its flame consume.</l> +<l>Crest-fallen, unembraced I now let fall</l> +<l>Listless, those hands that lately conquer'd all;</l> +<l>When the Nemæan lion own'd their force,</l> +<l>And he indignant fell a breathless corse:</l> +<l>The serpent slew, of the Lernean lake,</l> +<l>As did the Hydra of its force partake:</l> +<l>By this, too, fell the Erymanthian boar:</l> +<l>E'en Cerberus did his weak strength deplore.</l> +<l>This sinewy arm did overcome with ease</l> +<l>That dragon, guardian of the golden fleece.</l> +<l>My many conquests let some others trace;</l> +<l>It's mine to say, I never knew disgrace.<note place='foot'>Soph. +Trach. 1047.</note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Can we, then, despise pain, when we see Hercules himself +giving vent to his expressions of agony with such impatience? +</p> + +<p> +IX. Let us see what Æschylus says, who was not only +a poet, but a Pythagorean philosopher, also, for that is +the account which you have received of him; how doth he +make Prometheus bear the pain he suffered for the Lemnian +theft, when he clandestinely stole away the celestial fire, and +bestowed it on men, and was severely punished by Jupiter +for the theft. Fastened to mount Caucasus, he speaks thus: +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Thou heav'n-born race of Titans here fast bound,</l> +<l>Behold thy brother! As the sailors sound</l> +<l>With care the bottom, and their ships confine</l> +<l>To some safe shore, with anchor and with line:</l> +<l>So, by Jove's dread decree the god of fire</l> +<l>Confines me here the victim of Jove's ire.</l> +<l>With baneful art his dire machine he shapes;</l> +<l>From such a god what mortal e'er escapes?</l> +<l>When each third day shall triumph o'er the night,</l> +<l>Then doth the vulture, with his talons light,</l> +<l>Seize on my entrails; which, in rav'nous guise,</l> +<l>He preys on! then with wing extended flies</l> +<l>Aloft, and brushes with his plumes the gore:</l> +<l>But when dire Jove my liver doth restore,</l> +<l>Back he returns impetuous to his prey,</l> +<l>Clapping his wings, he cuts th' ethereal way.</l> +<pb n='347'/><anchor id='Pg347'/> +<l>Thus do I nourish with my blood this pest,</l> +<l>Confined my arms, unable to contest;</l> +<l>Entreating only, that in pity Jove</l> +<l>Would take my life, and this cursed plague remove.</l> +<l>But endless ages past, unheard my moan,</l> +<l>Sooner shall drops dissolve this very stone.<note place='foot'>The +lines quoted by Cicero here, appear to have come from the Latin +play of Prometheus by Accius; the ideas are borrowed rather than +translated from the Prometheus of Æschylus.</note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +And therefore it scarcely seems possible to avoid calling a +man who is suffering, miserable; and if he is miserable, then +pain is an evil. +</p> + +<p> +XI. <hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Hitherto you are on my side; I will see to that +by-and-by; and, in the meanwhile, whence are those verses? +I do not remember them. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I will inform you, for you are in the right to ask. Do +you see that I have much leisure? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> What then? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I imagine, when you were at Athens, you attended +frequently at the schools of the philosophers. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Yes, and with great pleasure. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> You observed then, that, though none of them at that +time were very eloquent, yet they used to mix verses with +their harangues. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Yes, and particularly Dionysius, the Stoic, used to employ +a great many. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> You say right; but they were quoted without any +appropriateness or elegance. But our friend Philo used to +give a few select lines and well adapted; and in imitation of +him, ever since I took a fancy to this kind of elderly declamation, +I have been very fond of quoting our poets, and +where I cannot be supplied from them, I translate from the +Greek, that the Latin language may not want any kind of +ornament in this kind of disputation. +</p> + +<p> +But do you not see how much harm is done by poets? +They introduce the bravest men lamenting over their misfortunes: +they soften our minds, and they are besides so +entertaining, that we do not only read them, but get them by +heart. Thus the influence of the poets is added to our want +of discipline at home, and our tender and delicate manner of +living, so that between them they have deprived virtue of all +its vigour and energy. Plato therefore was right in banishing +<pb n='348'/><anchor id='Pg348'/> +them from his commonwealth, where he required the best +morals, and the best form of government. But we, who +have all our learning from Greece, read and learn these works +of theirs from our childhood; and look on this as a liberal +and learned education. +</p> + +<p> +XII. But why are we angry with the poets? we may find +some philosophers, those masters of virtue, who have taught +that pain was the greatest of evils. But you, young man, +when you said but just now that it appeared so to you, upon +being asked by me what appeared greater than infamy, +gave up that opinion at a word. Suppose I ask Epicurus the +same question. He will answer, that a trifling degree of pain +is a greater evil than the greatest infamy; for that there is +no evil in infamy itself, unless attended with pain. What +pain then attends Epicurus, when he says this very thing, +that pain is the greatest evil; and yet nothing can be a +greater disgrace to a philosopher than to talk thus. Therefore, +you allowed enough when you admitted that infamy +appeared to you to be a greater evil than pain. And if you +abide by this admission, you will see how far pain should be +resisted: and that our inquiry should be not so much +whether pain be an evil; as how the mind may be fortified for +resisting it. The Stoics infer from some petty quibbling +arguments, that it is no evil, as if the dispute was about a +word, and not about the thing itself. Why do you impose +upon me, Zeno? for when you deny what appears very dreadful +to me to be an evil; I am deceived, and am at a loss to +know why that which appears to me to be a most miserable +thing, should be no evil. The answer is, that nothing is an evil +but what is base and vicious. You return to your trifling, for +you do not remove what made me uneasy. I know that pain +is not vice,—you need not inform me of that: but show me, +that it makes no difference to me whether I am in pain or +not. It has never anything to do, say you, with a happy life, +for that depends upon virtue alone; but yet pain is to be +avoided. If I ask, why? it is disagreeable, against nature, +hard to bear, woful and afflicting. +</p> + +<p> +XIII. Here are many words to express that by so many +different forms, which we call by the single word, evil. You +are defining pain, instead of removing it, when you say, it is +disagreeable, unnatural, scarcely possible to be endured or +<pb n='349'/><anchor id='Pg349'/> +borne: nor are you wrong in saying so; but the man who +vaunts himself in such a manner should not give way in his +conduct, if it be true that nothing is good but what is honest, +and nothing evil but what is disgraceful. This would be +wishing, not proving.—This argument is a better one, and +has more truth in it, that all things which nature abhors are +to be looked upon as evil; that those which she approves of, +are to be considered as good: for when this is admitted, and +the dispute about words removed, that which they with +reason embrace, and which we call honest, right, becoming, +and sometimes include under the general name of virtue, +appears so far superior to everything else, that all other things +which are looked upon as the gifts of fortune, or the good +things of the body, seem trifling and insignificant: and no +evil whatever, nor all the collective body of evils together, +appears to be compared to the evil of infamy. Wherefore, if, +as you granted in the beginning, infamy is worse than pain, +pain is certainly nothing; for while it appears to you base +and unmanly to groan, cry out, lament, or faint under pain—while +you cherish notions of probity, dignity, honour, and +keeping your eye on them, refrain yourself—pain will certainly +yield to virtue, and by the influence of imagination, +will lose its whole force.—For you must either admit that +there is no such thing as virtue, or you must despise every +kind of pain. Will you allow of such a virtue as prudence, +without which no virtue whatever can even be conceived? +What then? will that suffer you to labour and take pains to +no purpose? Will temperance permit you to do anything to +excess? Will it be possible for justice to be maintained by +one who through the force of pain discovers secrets, or betrays +his confederates, or deserts many duties of life? Will +you act in a manner consistently with courage, and its attendants, +greatness of soul, resolution, patience, and contempt +for all worldly things? Can you hear yourself called a great +man, when you lie groveling, dejected, and deploring your +condition, with a lamentable voice; no one would call you +even a man, while in such a condition: you must therefore +either abandon all pretensions to courage, or else pain must +be put out of the question. +</p> + +<p> +XIV. You know very well, that even though part of your +Corinthian furniture were gone, the remainder might be safe +<pb n='350'/><anchor id='Pg350'/> +without that; but if you lose one virtue (though virtue in +reality cannot be lost), still if, I say, you should acknowledge +that you were deficient in one, you would be stripped of all. +Can you, then, call yourself a brave man, of a great soul, +endued with patience and steadiness above the frowns of fortune? +or Philoctetes? for I choose to instance him, rather +than yourself, for he certainly was not a brave man, who lay +in his bed, which was watered with his tears, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Whose groans, bewailings, and whose bitter cries,</l> +<l>With grief incessant rent the very skies.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +I do not deny pain to be pain; for were that the case, in +what would courage consist? but I say it should be assuaged +by patience, if there be such a thing as patience: if there be +no such thing, why do we speak so in praise of philosophy? +or why do we glory in its name? Does pain annoy us? let +it sting us to the heart: if you are without defensive armour, +bare your throat to it; but if you are secured by Vulcanian +armour, that is to say by resolution, resist it; should you fail +to do so, that guardian of your honour, your courage, will +forsake and leave you.—By the laws of Lycurgus, and by +those which were given to the Cretans by Jupiter, or which +Minos established under the direction of Jupiter, as the poets +say, the youths of the state are trained by the practice of +hunting, running, enduring hunger and thirst, cold and heat. +The boys at Sparta are scourged so at the altars, that blood +follows the lash in abundance, nay, sometimes, as I used to +hear when I was there, they are whipped even to death; and +yet not one of them was ever heard to cry out, or so much as +groan. What then? shall men not be able to bear what boys +do? and shall custom have such great force, and reason none +at all? +</p> + +<p> +XV. There is some difference betwixt labour and pain; +they border upon one another, but still there is a certain +difference between them. Labour is a certain exercise of the +mind or body, in some employment or undertaking of serious +trouble and importance; but pain is a sharp motion in the +body, disagreeable to our senses.—Both these feelings, the +Greeks, whose language is more copious than ours, express by +the common name of Πόνος; therefore they call industrious +men, pains-taking, or rather fond of labour; we, more conveniently, +call them laborious; for labouring is one thing +<pb n='351'/><anchor id='Pg351'/> +and enduring pain another. You see, O Greece, your barrenness +of words, sometimes, though you think you are always +so rich in them. I say, then, that there is a difference +betwixt labouring and being in pain. When Caius Marius +had an operation performed for a swelling in his thigh, he +felt pain; when he headed his troops in a very hot season, he +laboured. Yet these two feelings bear some resemblance to +one another; for the accustoming ourselves to labour makes +the endurance of pain more easy to us.—And it was because +they were influenced by this reason, that the founders +of the Grecian form of government provided that the bodies +of their youth should be strengthened by labour, which +custom the Spartans transferred even to their women, who +in other cities lived more delicately, keeping within the walls +of their houses, but it was otherwise with the Spartans. +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>The Spartan women, with a manly air,</l> +<l>Fatigues and dangers with their husbands share:</l> +<l>They in fantastic sports have no delight,</l> +<l>Partners with them in exercise and fight.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +And in these laborious exercises pain interferes sometimes; +they are thrown down, receive blows, have bad falls, and are +bruised, and the labour itself produces a sort of callousness to +pain. +</p> + +<p> +XVI. As to military service, (I speak of our own, not of +that of the Spartans, for they used to march slowly to the +sound of the flute, and scarce a word of command was given +without an anapæst;) you may see in the first place whence +the very name of an army (Exercitus)<note place='foot'>From +Exerceo.</note> is derived; and +secondly, how great the labour is of an army on its march; +then consider that they carry more than a fortnight's provision, +and whatever else they may want: that they carry the +burthen of the stakes,<note place='foot'>Each soldier carried a +stake, to help form a palisade in front of the +camp.</note> for as to shield, sword, or helmet, they +look on them as no more encumbrance than their own limbs, +for they say that arms are the limbs of a soldier, and those +indeed they carry so commodiously, that when there is occasion +they throw down their burdens, and use their arms as +readily as their limbs. Why need I mention the exercises of +the legions? and how great the labour is which is undergone +<pb n='352'/><anchor id='Pg352'/> +in the running, encounters, shouts! Hence it is, that +their minds are worked up to make so light of wounds in +action. Take a soldier of equal bravery, but undisciplined, +and he will seem a woman. Why is it that there is this +sensible difference betwixt a raw recruit and a veteran soldier? +The age of the young soldiers is for the most part in their +favour, but it is practice only that enables men to bear +labour, and despise wounds. Moreover, we often see, when +the wounded are carried off the field, the raw untried soldier, +though but slightly wounded, cries out most shamefully; but +the more brave experienced veteran only inquires for some +one to dress his wounds, and says, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Patroclus, to thy aid I must appeal</l> +<l>Ere worse ensue, my bleeding wounds to heal;</l> +<l>The sons of Æsculapius are employ'd,</l> +<l>No room for me, so many are annoy'd.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +XVII. This is certainly Eurypylus himself. What an experienced +man!—Whilst his friend is continually enlarging +on his misfortunes, you may observe that he is so far from +weeping, that he even assigns a reason why he should bear his +wounds with patience. +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Who at his enemy a stroke directs,</l> +<l>His sword to light upon himself expects.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Patroclus, I suppose, will lead him off to his chamber to +bind up his wounds, at least if he be a man: but not a word +of that; he only inquires how the battle went. +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Say how the Argives bear themselves in fight?— +</quote> + +<p> +And yet no words can show the truth as well as those, your +deeds and visible sufferings. +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Peace! and my wounds bind up; +</quote> + +<p> +but though Eurypylus could bear these afflictions, Æsopus +could not, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Where Hector's fortune press'd our yielding troops; +</quote> + +<p> +and he explains the rest, though in pain; so unbounded is +military glory in a brave man! Shall, then, a veteran soldier +be able to behave in this manner, and shall a wise and learned +man not be able? Surely the latter might be able to bear +pain better, and in no small degree either: at present, how +ever, I am confining myself to what is engendered practice +and discipline. I am not yet come to speak of reason and +philosophy. You may often hear of old women living without +<pb n='353'/><anchor id='Pg353'/> +victuals for three or four days: but take away a wrestler's +provisions but for one day, and he will implore the aid of +Jupiter Olympius, the very God for whom he exercises himself: +he will cry out that he cannot endure it. Great is the +force of custom! Sportsmen will continue whole nights in +the snow: they will bear being almost frozen upon the +mountains. From practice boxers will not so much as utter +a groan, however bruised by the cestus. But what do you +think of those to whom a victory in the Olympic games +seemed almost on a par with the ancient consulships of the +Roman people? What wounds will the gladiators bear, who +are either barbarians, or the very dregs of mankind! How +do they, who are trained to it, prefer being wounded to basely +avoiding it! How often do they prove that they consider +nothing but the giving satisfaction to their masters or to the +people! for when covered with wounds, they send to their +masters to learn their pleasure; if it is their will, they are +ready to lie down and die. What gladiator, of even moderate +reputation, ever gave a sigh? who ever turned pale? who +ever disgraced himself either in the actual combat, or even +when about to die? who that had been defeated ever drew in +his neck to avoid the stroke of death? So great is the force of +practice, deliberation, and custom! Shall this, then, be done by +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +A Samnite rascal, worthy of his trade; +</quote> + +<p> +and shall a man born to glory have so soft a part in his soul +as not to be able to fortify it by reason and reflection? The +sight of the gladiators' combats is by some looked on as cruel +and inhuman, and I do not know, as it is at present managed, +but it may be so; but when the guilty fought, we might +receive by our ears perhaps (but certainly by our eyes we +could not) better training to harden us against pain and +death. +</p> + +<p> +XVIII. I have now said enough about the effects of exercise, +custom, and careful meditation; proceed we now to consider +the force of reason, unless you have something to reply to +what has been said. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> That I should interrupt you! by no means; for your +discourse has brought me over to your opinion. Let the +Stoics, then, think it their business to determine whether pain +be an evil or not, while they endeavour to show by some +<pb n='354'/><anchor id='Pg354'/> +strained and trifling conclusions, which are nothing to the +purpose, that pain is no evil. My opinion is, that whatever +it is, it is not so great as it appears; and I say, that men are +influenced to a great extent by some false representations and +appearance of it, and that all which is really felt is capable of +being endured. Where shall I begin, then? shall I superficially +go over what I said before, that my discourse may have +a greater scope? +</p> + +<p> +This, then, is agreed upon by all, and not only by learned +men, but also by the unlearned, that it becomes the brave +and magnanimous, those that have patience and a spirit above +this world, not to give way to pain. Nor has there ever been +any one who did not commend a man who bore it in this +manner. That, then, which is expected from a brave man, +and is commended when it is seen, it must surely be base in +any one to be afraid of at its approach, or not to bear when it +comes. But I would have you consider whether, as all the +right affections of the soul are classed under the name of +virtues, the truth is that this is not properly the name of +them all, but that they all have their name from that leading +virtue which is superior to all the rest: for the name, +<q>virtue,</q> comes from <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>vir</foreign>, +a man, and courage is the peculiar +distinction of a man: and this virtue has two principal +duties, to despise death and pain. We must, then, exert +these, if we would be men of virtue, or rather, if we would be +men, because virtue (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>virtus</foreign>) +takes its very name from <hi rend='italic'>vir</hi>, +man. +</p> + +<p> +XIX. You may inquire, perhaps, how? and such an +inquiry is not amiss, for philosophy is ready with her +assistance. Epicurus offers himself to you, a man far from a +bad, or, I should rather say, a very good man; he advises no +more than he knows. <q>Despise pain,</q> says he. Who is it +saith this? Is it the same man who calls pain the greatest +of all evils? It is not, indeed, very consistent in him. Let +us hear what he says:—<q>If the pain is excessive it must +needs be short.</q> I must have that over again, for I do not +apprehend what you mean exactly by <q>excessive</q> or <q>short.</q> +That is excessive, than which nothing can be greater; that +is short, than which nothing is shorter. I do not regard +the greatness of any pain from which, by reason of the shortness +of its continuance, I shall be delivered almost before it +<pb n='355'/><anchor id='Pg355'/> +reaches me. But, if the pain be as great as that of Philoctetes, +it will appear great indeed to me, but yet not the +greatest that I am capable of bearing; for the pain is confined +to my foot: but my eye may pain me, I may have a +pain in the head, or sides, or lungs, or in every part of me. +It is far, then, from being excessive; therefore, says he, pain +of a long continuance has more pleasure in it than uneasiness. +Now I cannot bring myself to say so great a man talks nonsense; +but I imagine he is laughing at us. My opinion is +that the greatest pain (I say the greatest, though it may be +ten atoms less than another) is not therefore short, because +acute; I could name to you a great many good men who +have been tormented many years with the acutest pains of +the gout. But this cautious man doth not determine the +measure of that greatness or of duration, so as to enable us +to know what he calls excessive, with regard to pain, or short, +with respect to its continuance. Let us pass him by, then, +as one who says just nothing at all; and let us force him to +acknowledge, notwithstanding he might behave himself somewhat +boldly under his cholic and his strangury, that no remedy +against pain can be had from him who looks on pain as the +greatest of all evils. We must apply, then, for relief elsewhere, +and nowhere better (if we seek for what is most consistent +with itself) than to those who place the chief good in +honesty, and the greatest evil in infamy. You dare not so +much as groan, or discover the least uneasiness in their +company, for virtue itself speaks to you through them. +</p> + +<p> +XX. Will you, when you may observe children at Lacedæmon, +and young men at Olympia, and barbarians in the +amphitheatre, receive the severest wounds, and bear them +without once opening their mouths,—will you, I say, if any +pain should by chance attack you, cry out like a woman? +will you not rather bear it with resolution and constancy? +and not cry, It is intolerable, nature cannot bear it. I hear +what you say,—Boys bear this because they are led thereto by +glory: some bear it through shame, many through fear, and +yet are we afraid that nature cannot bear what is borne by +many, and in such different circumstances? Nature not only +bears it, but challenges it, for there is nothing with her preferable, +nothing which she desires more, than credit, and +reputation, and praise, and honour, and glory. I choose here +<pb n='356'/><anchor id='Pg356'/> +to describe this one thing under many names, and I have +used many that you may have the clearer idea of it; for +what I mean to say is, that whatever is desirable of itself, +proceeding from virtue, or placed in virtue, and commendable +on its own account, (which I would rather agree to call the +only good than deny it to be the chief good,) is what men +should prefer above all things. And as we declare this to be +the case with respect to honesty, so we speak in the contrary +manner of infamy; nothing is so odious, so detestable, nothing +so unworthy of a man: and if you are thoroughly convinced +of this (for, at the beginning of this discourse, you allowed +that there appeared to you more evil in infamy than in pain), +it follows that you ought to have the command over yourself, +though I scarcely know how this expression may seem +an accurate one, which appears to represent man as made up +of two natures, so that one should be in command and the +other be subject to it. +</p> + +<p> +XXI. Yet this division does not proceed from ignorance; +for the soul admits of a two-fold division, one of which partakes +of reason, the other is without it; when, therefore, we +are ordered to give a law to ourselves, the meaning is, that +reason should restrain our rashness. There is in the soul of +every man, something naturally soft, low, enervated in a +manner, and languid. Were there nothing besides this, men +would be the greatest of monsters; but there is present to +every man reason, which presides over, and gives laws to all; +which, by improving itself, and making continual advances, +becomes perfect virtue. It behoves a man, then, to take care +that reason shall have the command over that part which is +bound to practise obedience. In what manner? you will say. +Why, as a master has over his slave, a general over his army, +a father over his son. If that part of the soul which I have +called soft behaves disgracefully, if it gives itself up to +lamentations and womanish tears, then let it be restrained, +and committed to the care of friends and relations, for we +often see those persons brought to order by shame, whom no +reasons can influence. Therefore, we should confine those +feelings, like our servants, in safe custody, and almost with +chains. But those who have more resolution, and yet are not +utterly immovable, we should encourage with our exhortations, +as we would good soldiers, to recollect themselves, and +<pb n='357'/><anchor id='Pg357'/> +maintain their honour. That wisest man of all Greece, in the +Niptræ, does not lament too much over his wounds, or +rather, he is moderate in his grief:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Move slow, my friends, your hasty speed refrain,</l> +<l>Lest by your motion you increase my pain.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Pacuvius is better in this than Sophocles, for in the one +Ulysses bemoans his wounds too vehemently; for the very +people who carried him after he was wounded, though his +grief was moderate, yet, considering the dignity of the man, +did not scruple to say, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>And thou, Ulysses, long to war inured,</l> +<l>Thy wounds, though great, too feebly hast endured.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +The wise poet understood that custom was no contemptible +instructor how to bear pain. But the same hero complains +with more decency, though in great pain,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Assist, support me, never leave me so;</l> +<l>Unbind my wounds, oh! execrable woe!</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +He begins to give way, but instantly checks himself:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Away, begone, but cover first the sore;</l> +<l>For your rude hands but make my pains the more.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Do you observe how he constrains himself; not that his +bodily pains were less, but because he checks the anguish of +his mind? Therefore, in the conclusion of the Niptræ, he +blames others, even when he himself is dying:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Complaints of fortune may become the man,</l> +<l>None but a woman will thus weeping stand.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +And so that soft place in his soul obeys his reason, just as +an abashed soldier does his stern commander. +</p> + +<p> +XXII. The man, then, in whom absolute wisdom exists (such +a man, indeed, we have never as yet seen, but the philosophers +have described in their writings what sort of man he will be, +if he should exist); such a man, or at least that perfect and +absolute reason which exists in him, will have the same authority +over the inferior part as a good parent has over his +dutiful children, he will bring it to obey his nod, without +any trouble or difficulty. He will rouse himself, prepare and +arm himself to oppose pain as he would an enemy. If you +inquire what arms he will provide himself with, they will be +contention, encouragement, discourse with himself; he will +say thus to himself, Take care that you are guilty of nothing +base, languid, or unmanly. He will turn over in his mind +<pb n='358'/><anchor id='Pg358'/> +all the different kinds of honour. Zeno of Elea will occur to +him, who suffered everything rather than betray his confederates +in the design of putting an end to the tyranny. He +will reflect on Anaxarchus, the pupil of Democritus, who +having fallen into the hands of Nicocreon king of Cyprus, +without the least entreaty for mercy, or refusal, submitted to +every kind of torture. Calanus the Indian will occur to +him, an ignorant man and a barbarian, born at the foot of +Mount Caucasus, who committed himself to the flames by his +own free, voluntary act. But we, if we have the tooth-ache, +or a pain in the foot, or if the body be any ways affected, +cannot bear it. For our sentiments of pain, as well as +pleasure, are so trifling and effeminate, we are so enervated +and relaxed by luxuries, that we cannot bear the sting of a +bee without crying out. But Caius Marius, a plain country-man, +but of a manly soul, when he had an operation performed +on him, as I mentioned above, at first refused to be +tied down; and he is the first instance of any one's having +had an operation performed on him without being tied down. +Why, then, did others bear it afterwards? Why, from the +force of example. You see, then, that pain exists more in +opinion than in nature, and yet the same Marius gave a proof +that there is something very sharp in pain, for he would not +submit to have the other thigh cut. So that he bore his +pain with resolution as a man; but, like a reasonable person, +he was not willing to undergo any greater pain without some +necessary reason. The whole, then, consists in this, that you +should have command over yourself. I have already told you +what kind of command this is; and by considering what is most +consistent with patience, fortitude, and greatness of soul, a +man not only restrains himself, but somehow or other mitigates +even pain itself. +</p> + +<p> +XXIII. Even as in a battle, the dastardly and timorous +soldier throws away his shield on the first appearance of an +enemy, and runs as fast as he can, and on that account loses +his life sometimes, though he has never received even one +wound, when he who stands his ground has nothing of the +sort happen to him; so, they who cannot bear the appearances +of pain, throw themselves away, and give themselves up +to affliction and dismay; but they that oppose it, often come +off more than a match for it. For the body has a certain +<pb n='359'/><anchor id='Pg359'/> +resemblance to the soul: as burdens are more easily borne +the more the body is exerted, while they crush us if we give +way; so the soul by exerting itself resists the whole weight +that would oppress it; but if it yields, it is so pressed, that +it cannot support itself. And if we consider things truly, the +soul should exert itself in every pursuit, for that is the only +security for its doing its duty. But this should be principally +regarded in pain, that we must not do anything timidly, +or dastardly, or basely, or slavishly, or effeminately, and +above all things we must dismiss and avoid that Philoctetean +sort of outcry. A man is allowed sometimes to groan, but +yet seldom; but it is not permissible even in a woman to +howl; for such a noise as this is forbidden, by the twelve +tables, to be used even at funerals. Nor does a wise or brave +man ever groan, unless when he exerts himself to give his +resolution greater force, as they who run in the stadium +make as much noise as they can. The wrestlers, too, do the +same when they are training; and the boxers, when they aim +a blow with the cestus at their adversary, give a groan, not +because they are in pain, or from a sinking of their spirits, +but because their whole body is put upon the stretch by the +throwing out of these groans, and the blow comes the +stronger. +</p> + +<p> +XXIV. What! they who would speak louder than ordinary, +are they satisfied with working their jaws, sides, or +tongue, or stretching the common organs of speech and +utterance? the whole body and every muscle is at full +stretch, if I may be allowed the expression, every nerve is +exerted to assist their voice. I have actually seen the knees +of Marcus Antonius touch the ground when he was speaking +with vehemence for himself, with relation to the Varian law. +For as the engines you throw stones or darts with, throw +them out with the greater force the more they are strained +and drawn back; so it is in speaking, running, or boxing, the +more people strain themselves, the greater their force. Since, +therefore, this exertion has so much influence—if in a moment +of pain groans help to strengthen the mind, let us use them; +but if they be groans of lamentation, if they be the expression +of weakness or abjectness, or unmanly weeping, then I should +scarcely call him a man who yielded to them. For even +supposing that such groaning could give any ease, it still +<pb n='360'/><anchor id='Pg360'/> +should be considered, whether it were consistent with a brave +and resolute man. But, if it does not ease our pain, why +should we debase ourselves to no purpose? for what is more +unbecoming in a man than to cry like a woman? But this +precept which is laid down with respect to pain is not confined +to it; we should apply this exertion of the soul to +everything else. Is anger inflamed? is lust excited? we +must have recourse to the same citadel, and apply to the +same arms; but since it is pain which we are at present discussing, +we will let the other subjects alone. To bear pain, +then, sedately and calmly, it is of great use to consider with +all our soul, as the saying is, how noble it is to do so, for we +are naturally desirous (as I said before, but it cannot be too +often repeated) and very much inclined to what is honourable, +of which, if we discover but the least glimpse, there is +nothing which we are not prepared to undergo and suffer to +attain it. From this impulse of our minds, this desire for +genuine glory and honourable conduct, it is that such dangers +are supported in war, and that brave men are not sensible of +their wounds in action, or if they are sensible of them, prefer +death to the departing but the least step from their honour. +The Decii saw the shining swords of their enemies when they +were rushing into the battle. But the honourable character +and the glory of the death which they were seeking, made all +fear of death of little weight. Do you imagine that Epaminondas +groaned when he perceived that his life was flowing +out with his blood? No; for he left his country triumphing +over the Lacedæmonians, whereas he had found it in subjection +to them. These are the comforts, these are the things +that assuage the greatest pain. +</p> + +<p> +XXV. You may ask, how the case is in peace? what is to +be done at home? how we are to behave in bed? You bring +me back to the philosophers, who seldom go to war. Among +these, Dionysius of Heraclea, a man certainly of no resolution, +having learned fortitude of Zeno, quitted it on being in +pain; for, being tormented with a pain in his kidneys, in bewailing +himself he cried out, that those things were false +which he had formerly conceived of pain. And when his +fellow-disciple, Cleanthes, asked him why he had changed his +opinion, he answered, <q>That the case of any man who had +applied so much time to philosophy, and yet was unable to +<pb n='361'/><anchor id='Pg361'/> +bear pain, might be a sufficient proof that pain is an evil. +That he himself had spent many years at philosophy, and yet +could not bear pain. It followed, therefore, that pain was an +evil.</q> It is reported that Cleanthes on that struck his foot +on the ground, and repeated a verse out of the Epigonæ— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Amphiaraus, hear'st thou this below? +</quote> + +<p> +He meant Zeno: he was sorry the other had degenerated +from him. +</p> + +<p> +But it was not so with our friend Posidonius, whom I have +often seen myself, and I will tell you what Pompey used to +say of him: that when he came to Rhodes, after his departure +from Syria, he had a great desire to hear Posidonius, but was +informed that he was very ill of a severe fit of the gout; yet +he had great inclination to pay a visit to so famous a philosopher. +Accordingly, when he had seen him, and paid his +compliments, and had spoken with great respect of him, he +said he was very sorry that he could not hear him lecture. +But indeed you may, replied the other, nor will I suffer any +bodily pain to occasion so great a man to visit me in vain. +On this Pompey relates that, as he lay on his bed, he disputed +with great dignity and fluency on this very subject—That +nothing was good but what was honest; and that in his +paroxysms he would often say, <q>Pain, it is to no purpose, notwithstanding +you are troublesome, I will never acknowledge +you an evil.</q> And in general all celebrated and notorious +afflictions become endurable by disregarding them. +</p> + +<p> +XXVI. Do we not observe, that where those exercises called +gymnastic are in esteem, those who enter the lists never concern +themselves about dangers: that where the praise of +riding and hunting is highly esteemed, they who practise +these arts decline no pain. What shall I say of our own +ambitious pursuits, or desire of honours? What fire have +not candidates run through to gain a single vote? Therefore +Africanus had always in his hands Xenophon, the pupil of +Socrates, being particularly pleased with his saying, that +the same labours were not equally heavy to the general and +to the common man, because the honour itself made the +labour lighter to the general. But yet, so it happens, that +even with the illiterate vulgar, an idea of honour is of great +influence, though they cannot understand what it is. They +<pb n='362'/><anchor id='Pg362'/> +are led by report and common opinion to look on that as +honourable, which has the general voice. Not that I would +have you, should the multitude be ever so fond of you, rely +on their judgment, nor approve of everything which they +think right; you must use your own judgment. If you are +satisfied with yourself when you have approved of what is +right, you will not only have the mastery over yourself, +(which I recommend to you just now,) but over everybody, +and everything. Lay this down, then, as a rule, that a great +capacity, and lofty elevation of soul, which distinguishes +itself most by despising and looking down with contempt on +pain, is the most excellent of all things, and the more so, if +it does not depend on the people, and does not aim at applause, +but derives its satisfaction from itself. Besides, to me +indeed everything seems the more commendable the less the +people are courted, and the fewer eyes there are to see it. +Not that you should avoid the public, for every generous +action loves the public view; yet no theatre for virtue is +equal to a consciousness of it. +</p> + +<p> +XXVII. And let this be principally considered, that this +bearing of pain, which I have often said is to be strengthened +by an exertion of the soul, should be the same in everything. +For you meet with many who, through a desire of victory, +or for glory, or to maintain their rights, or their liberty, have +boldly received wounds, and borne themselves up under them; +and yet those very same persons, by relaxing that intenseness +of their minds, were unequal to bearing the pain of +a disease. For they did not support themselves under their +former sufferings by reason or philosophy, but by inclination +and glory. Therefore some barbarians and savage people are +able to fight very stoutly with the sword, but cannot bear +sickness like men: but the Grecians, men of no great courage, +but as wise as human nature will admit of, cannot look +an enemy in the face, yet the same will bear to be visited +with sickness tolerably, and with a sufficiently manly spirit; +and the Cimbrians and Celtiberians are very alert in battle, +but bemoan themselves in sickness; for nothing can be consistent +which has not reason for its foundation. But when +you see those who are led by inclination or opinion, not +retarded by pain in their pursuits, nor hindered by it from +succeeding in them, you may conclude, either that pain is no +<pb n='363'/><anchor id='Pg363'/> +evil, or that, notwithstanding you may choose to call an +evil whatever is disagreeable and contrary to nature, yet +it is so very trifling an evil, that it may so effectually +be got the better of by virtue as quite to disappear. And +I would have you think of this night and day; for this +argument will spread itself, and take up more room sometime +or other, and not be confined to pain alone; for if the +motives to all our actions are to avoid disgrace and acquire +honour, we may not only despise the stings of pain, but the +storms of fortune, especially if we have recourse to that retreat +which was pointed out in our yesterday's discussion: for as, +if some God had advised a man who was pursued by pirates +to throw himself overboard, saying, There is something at +hand to receive you; either a dolphin will take you up, as it +did Arion of Methymna; or those horses sent by Neptune to +Pelops (who are said to have carried chariots so rapidly as to +be borne up by the waves) will receive you, and convey you +wherever you please; cast away all fear: so, though your +pains be ever so sharp and disagreeable, if the case is not +such that it is worth your while to endure them, you see +whither you may betake yourself. I think this will do for +the present. But perhaps you still abide by your opinion. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Not in the least, indeed; and I hope I am freed by +these two days' discourses from the fear of two things that +I greatly dreaded. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> To-morrow then for rhetoric, as we were saying; but +I see we must not drop our philosophy. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> No, indeed, we will have the one in the forenoon, and +this at the usual time. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> It shall be so, and I will comply with your very laudable +inclinations. +</p> + +</div> + +<div> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>Book III. On Grief Of Mind.</head> + +<p> +I. What reason shall I assign, O Brutus, why, as we consist +of mind and body, the art of curing and preserving the body +should be so much sought after, and the invention of it, as +being so useful, should be ascribed to the immortal Gods; +but the medicine of the mind should not have been so much +<pb n='364'/><anchor id='Pg364'/> +the object of inquiry, whilst it was unknown, nor so much +attended to and cultivated after its discovery, nor so well +received or approved of by some, and accounted actually +disagreeable, and looked upon with an envious eye by many? +Is it because we, by means of the mind, judge of the pains +and disorders of the body, but do not, by means of the body, +arrive at any perception of the disorders of the mind? +Hence it comes that the mind only judges of itself, when +that very faculty by which it is judged is in a bad state. +Had nature given us faculties for discerning and viewing +herself, and could we go through life by keeping our eye on +her—our best guide—there would be no reason certainly why +any one should be in want of philosophy or learning: but, +as it is, she has furnished us only with some feeble rays +of light, which we immediately extinguish so completely by +evil habits and erroneous opinions, that the light of nature +is nowhere visible. The seeds of virtues are natural to our +constitutions, and, were they suffered to come to maturity, +would naturally conduct us to a happy life; but now, as soon +as we are born and received into the world, we are instantly +familiarized with all kinds of depravity and perversity of +opinions; so that we may be said almost to suck in error +with our nurse's milk. When we return to our parents, and +are put into the hands of tutors and governors, we are imbued +with so many errors, that truth gives place to falsehood, and +nature herself to established opinion. +</p> + +<p> +II. To these we may add the poets; who, on account of +the appearance they exhibit of learning and wisdom, are +heard, read, and got by heart, and make a deep impression on +our minds. But when to these are added the people, who are +as it were one great body of instructors, and the multitude, +who declare unanimously for what is wrong, then are we +altogether overwhelmed with bad opinions, and revolt entirely +from nature; so that they seem to deprive us of our best +guide, who have decided that there is nothing better for man, +nothing more worthy of being desired by him, nothing more +excellent than honours and commands, and a high reputation +with the people; which indeed every excellent man aims at; +but whilst he pursues that only true honour, which nature +has in view above all other objects, he finds himself busied in +arrant trifles, and in pursuit of no conspicuous form of virtue, +<pb n='365'/><anchor id='Pg365'/> +but only some shadowy representation of glory. For glory is +a real and express substance, not a mere shadow. It consists +in the united praise of good men, the free voice of those who +form a true judgment of preeminent virtue; it is, as it were, +the very echo of virtue; and being generally the attendant +on laudable actions, should not be slighted by good men. +But popular fame, which would pretend to imitate it, is hasty +and inconsiderate, and generally commends wicked and immoral +actions, and throws discredit upon the appearance and +beauty of honesty, by assuming a resemblance of it. And it +is owing to their not being able to discover the difference +between them that some men, ignorant of real excellence, and +in what it consists, have been the destruction of their country +and of themselves. And thus the best men have erred, not so +much in their intentions, as by a mistaken conduct. What, +is no cure to be attempted to be applied to those who are +carried away by the love of money, or the lust of pleasures, +by which they are rendered little short of madmen, which is +the case of all weak people? or is it because the disorders of +the mind are less dangerous than those of the body? or +because the body will admit of a cure, while there is no +medicine whatever for the mind? +</p> + +<p> +III. But there are more disorders of the mind than of the +body, and they are of a more dangerous nature; for these +very disorders are the more offensive, because they belong to +the mind, and disturb it; and the mind, when disordered, is, +as Ennius says, in a constant error; it can neither bear nor +endure anything, and is under the perpetual influence of +desires. Now, what disorders can be worse to the body than +these two distempers of the mind (for I overlook others), +weakness and desire? But how, indeed, can it be maintained +that the mind cannot prescribe for itself, when she it is who +has invented the medicines for the body, when, with regard +to bodily cures, constitution and nature have a great share, +nor do all, who suffer themselves to be cured, find that effect +instantly; but those minds which are disposed to be cured, +and submit to the precepts of the wise, may undoubtedly +recover a healthy state? Philosophy is certainly the medicine +of the soul, whose assistance we do not seek from abroad, as +in bodily disorders, but we ourselves are bound to exert our +utmost energy and power in order to effect our cure. But as +<pb n='366'/><anchor id='Pg366'/> +to philosophy in general, I have, I think, in my <q>Hortensius,</q> +sufficiently spoken of the credit and attention which it +deserves: since that, indeed, I have been continually either +disputing or writing on its most material branches: and I +have laid down in these books all the discussions which +took place between myself and my particular friends at my +Tusculan Villa: but as I have spoken in the two former of +pain and death, this book shall be devoted to the account of +the third day of our disputations. +</p> + +<p> +We came down into the Academy when the day was already +declining towards afternoon, and I asked one of those who +were present to propose a subject for us to discourse on; and +then the business was carried on in this manner. +</p> + +<p> +IV. <hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> My opinion is, that a wise man is subject to +grief. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> What, and to the other perturbations of mind, as +fears, lusts, anger? For these are pretty much like what the +Greeks call πάθη. I might call them diseases, and that would +be a literal translation, but it is not agreeable to our way of +speaking. For envy, delight, and pleasure, are all called by +the Greeks diseases, being affections of the mind not in subordination +to reason: but we, I think, are right, in calling the +same motions of a disturbed soul perturbations, and in very +seldom using the term diseases; though, perhaps, it appears +otherwise to you. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I am of your opinion. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> And do you think a wise man subject to these? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Entirely, I think. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Then that boasted wisdom is but of small account, if it +differs so little from madness? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> What? does every commotion of the mind seem to you +to be madness? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Not to me only; but I apprehend, though I have often +been surprised at it, that it appeared so to our ancestors many +ages before Socrates: from whom is derived all that philosophy +which relates to life and morals. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> How so? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Because the name madness<note place='foot'>Insania—from +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>in</foreign>, a particle of negative force in +composition, and <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>sanus</foreign>, healthy, +sound.</note> implies a sickness of the +mind and disease, that is to say an unsoundness, and an +<pb n='367'/><anchor id='Pg367'/> +unhealthiness of mind, which they call madness. But the +philosophers call all perturbations of the soul diseases, and +their opinion is that no fool is ever free from these: but all +that are diseased are unsound; and the minds of all fools are +diseased; therefore all fools are mad. For they held that +soundness of the mind depends on a certain tranquillity and +steadiness; and a mind which was destitute of these qualities +they called insane, because soundness was inconsistent with a +perturbed mind just as much as with a disordered body. +</p> + +<p> +V. Nor were they less ingenious in calling the state of the +soul devoid of the light of the mind, <q>a being out of one's +mind,</q> <q>a being beside oneself.</q> From whence we may +understand, that they who gave these names to things were +of the same opinion with Socrates, that all silly people were +unsound, which the Stoics have carefully preserved as being +derived from him; for whatever mind is distempered, (and as +I just now said, the philosophers call all perturbed motions of +the mind distempers,) is no more sound than a body is when +in a fit of sickness. Hence it is, that wisdom is the soundness +of the mind, folly a sort of unsoundness, which is +insanity, or a being out of one's mind: and these are much +better expressed by the Latin words than the Greek; which +you will find the case also in many other topics. But we will +discuss that point elsewhere: let us now attend to our present +subject. The very meaning of the word describes the whole +thing about which we are inquiring, both as to its substance +and character. For we must necessarily understand by +<q>sound,</q> those whose minds are under no perturbation from +any motion as if it were a disease. They who are differently +affected we must necessarily call <q>unsound.</q> So that nothing +is better than what is usual in Latin, to say, that they who +are run away with by their lust or anger, have quitted the +command over themselves; though anger includes lust, for +anger is defined to be the lust of revenge. They, then, who +are said not to be masters of themselves, are said to be so +because they are not under the government of reason, to +which is assigned by nature the power over the whole soul. +Why the Greeks should call this μανία, I do not easily apprehend; +but we define it much better than they, for we distinguish +this madness (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>insania</foreign>), +which, being allied to folly, is more extensive, from what we call +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>furor</foreign>, or raving. The +<pb n='368'/><anchor id='Pg368'/> +Greeks indeed would do so too, but they have no one word +that will express it: what we call <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>furor</foreign>, +they call μελαγχολία, +as if the reason were affected only by a black bile, and not +disturbed as often by a violent rage, or fear, or grief. Thus +we say Athamas, Alcmæon, Ajax, and Orestes, were raving +(<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>furere</foreign>): +because a person affected in this manner was not +allowed, by the twelve tables, to have the management of his +own affairs; therefore the words are not, if he is mad +(<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>insanus</foreign>), +but, if he begins to be raving (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>furiosus</foreign>). +For they looked upon madness to be an unsettled humour, that proceeded +from not being of sound mind; yet such a person might +perform his ordinary duties, and discharge the usual and +customary requirements of life: but they considered one that +was raving as afflicted with a total blindness of the mind, +which, notwithstanding it is allowed to be greater than madness, +is nevertheless of such a nature, that a wise man may be +subject to raving (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>furor</foreign>), but cannot possibly +be afflicted by insanity (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>insania</foreign>). But this +is another question: let us now return to our original subject. +</p> + +<p> +VI. I think you said that it was your opinion that a wise +man was liable to grief. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> And so, indeed, I think. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> It is natural enough to think so, for we are not the offspring +of flints: but we have by nature something soft and +tender in our souls, which may be put into a violent motion +by grief, as by a storm; nor did that Crantor, who was one of +the most distinguished men that our Academy has ever produced, +say this amiss: <q>I am by no means of their opinion +who talk so much in praise of I know not what insensibility, +which neither can exist, nor ought to exist: I would choose,</q> +says he, <q>never to be ill; but should I be so, still I should +choose to retain my sensation, whether there was to be an +amputation, or any other separation of anything from my +body. For that insensibility cannot be but at the expense of +some unnatural ferocity of mind, or stupor of body.</q> But let +us consider whether to talk in this manner be not allowing +that we are weak, and yielding to our softness. Notwithstanding, +let us be hardy enough, not only to lop off every +arm of our miseries, but even to pluck up every fibre of their +roots: yet still something perhaps may be left behind, so +deep does folly strike its roots: but whatever may be left, it +<pb n='369'/><anchor id='Pg369'/> +will be no more than is necessary. But let us be persuaded +of this, that unless the mind be in a sound state, which philosophy +alone can effect, there can be no end of our miseries. +Wherefore, as we begun, let us submit ourselves to it for a +cure; we shall be cured if we choose to be. I shall advance +something further. I shall not treat of grief alone, though +that indeed is the principal thing; but, as I originally proposed, +of every perturbation of the mind, as I termed it, +disorder, as the Greeks call it: and first, with your leave, I +shall treat it in the manner of the Stoics, whose method is to +reduce their arguments into a very small space; afterwards I +shall enlarge more in my own way. +</p> + +<p> +VII. A man of courage is also full of faith; I do not use +the word confident, because, owing to an erroneous custom of +speaking, that word has come to be used in a bad sense, +though it is derived from confiding, which is commendable. +But he who is full of faith, is certainly under no fear; for +there is an inconsistency between faith and fear. Now whoever +is subject to grief is subject to fear; for whatever things +we grieve at when present, we dread when hanging over us +and approaching. Thus it comes about, that grief is inconsistent +with courage: it is very probable, therefore, that +whoever is subject to grief, is also liable to fear, and to a +broken kind of spirits and sinking. Now whenever these +befal a man, he is in a servile state, and must own that he is +overpowered: for whoever admits these feelings, must admit +timidity and cowardice. But these cannot enter into the +mind of a man of courage; neither therefore can grief: but +the man of courage is the only wise man; therefore grief +cannot befal the wise man. It is besides necessary, that whoever +is brave, should be a man of great soul; that whoever is +a man of a great soul, should be invincible: whoever is invincible +looks down with contempt on all things here, and +considers them beneath him. But no one can despise those +things on account of which he may be affected with grief: +from whence it follows, that a wise man is never affected with +grief: for all wise men are brave; therefore a wise man is not +subject to grief. And as the eye, when disordered, is not in +a good condition for performing its office properly; and as +the other parts, and the whole body itself, when unsettled, +cannot perform their office and business; so the mind, when +<pb n='370'/><anchor id='Pg370'/> +disordered, is but ill-fitted to perform its duty. The office of +the mind is to use its reason well; but the mind of a wise +man is always in condition to make the best use of his reason, +and therefore is never out of order. But grief is a disorder of +the mind; therefore a wise man will be always free from it. +</p> + +<p> +VIII. And from these considerations we may get at a very +probable definition of the temperate man, whom the Greeks +call σώφρων, and they call that virtue σωφροσύνην, which I +at one time call temperance, at another time moderation, and +sometimes even modesty; but I do not know whether that +virtue may not be properly called frugality, which has a more +confined meaning with the Greeks; for they call frugal men +χρησίμους, which implies only that they are useful: but our +name has a more extensive meaning; for all abstinence, all +innocency, (which the Greeks have no ordinary name for, +though they might use the word ἀβλάβεια, for innocency is +that disposition of mind which would offend no one,) and +several other virtues, are comprehended under frugality; but, +if this quality were of less importance, and confined in as +small a compass as some imagine, the surname of Piso<note place='foot'>The +man who first received this surname was L. Calpurnius Piso, +who was consul, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 133, in the Servile War.</note> would +not have been in so great esteem. But as we allow him not +the name of a frugal man (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>frugi</foreign>), +who either quits his post +through fear, which is cowardice; or who reserves to his own +use what was privately committed to his keeping, which is +injustice; or who fails in his military undertakings through +rashness, which is folly; for that reason the word frugality +takes in these three virtues of fortitude, justice, and prudence, +though it is indeed common to all virtues, for they are +all connected and knit together. Let us allow, then, frugality +itself to be another and fourth virtue; for its peculiar property +seems to be, to govern and appease all tendencies to too eager +a desire after anything, to restrain lust, and to preserve a +decent steadiness in everything. The vice in contrast to this +is called prodigality (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>nequitia</foreign>). Frugality, I +imagine, is derived from the word <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>fruge</foreign>, the +best thing which the earth produces; <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>nequitia</foreign> +is derived (though this is perhaps rather more strained, still let us try it; we +shall only be thought to have been trifling if there is nothing in what we say) from +the fact of everything being to no purpose +(<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>nequicquam</foreign>) in such +<pb n='371'/><anchor id='Pg371'/> +a man; from which circumstance he is called also <hi rend='italic'>Nihil</hi>, +nothing. Whoever is frugal, then, or, if it is more agreeable +to you, whoever is moderate and temperate, such a one must +of course be consistent; whoever is consistent, must be quiet; +the quiet man must be free from all perturbation, therefore +from grief likewise: and these are the properties of a wise +man; therefore a wise man must be free from grief. +</p> + +<p> +IX. So that Dionysius of Heraclea is right when, upon this +complaint of Achilles in Homer— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Well hast thou spoke, but at the tyrant's name</l> +<l>My rage rekindles, and my soul's in flame:</l> +<l>'Tis just resentment, and becomes the brave,</l> +<l>Disgraced, dishonour'd like the vilest slave<note place='foot'><p>The Greek is— +</p> +<p> +Ἀλλά μοι οἰδάνεται κραδίν χόλω ὅπποτ ἐκείνου<lb/> +Μνήσομαι ὅς μ᾽ ἀσύφηλον ἐν Ἀργείοισιν ἔρεξεν.—Il. ix. 642. +</p> +<p> +I have given Pope's translation in the text. +</p></note>—</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +he reasons thus: Is the hand as it should be, when it is +affected with a swelling? or is it possible for any other member +of the body, when swollen or enlarged, to be in any other +than a disordered state? Must not the mind, then, when it is +puffed up, or distended, be out of order? But the mind of a +wise man is always free from every kind of disorder; it never +swells, never is puffed up: but the mind when in anger is in +a different state. A wise man therefore is never angry; for +when he is angry, he lusts after something; for whoever is +angry naturally has a longing desire to give all the pain he +can to the person who he thinks has injured him; and whoever +has this earnest desire must necessarily be much pleased +with the accomplishment of his wishes; hence he is delighted +with his neighbour's misery; and as a wise man is not capable +of such feelings as these, he is therefore not capable of anger. +But should a wise man be subject to grief, he may likewise +be subject to anger; for as he is free from anger, he must +likewise be free from grief. Again, could a wise man be subject +to grief, he might also be liable to pity, or even might be +open to a disposition towards envy +(<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>invidentia</foreign>); I do not say to envy +(<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>invidia</foreign>), for that can only exist by the very +act of envying: but we may fairly form the word +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>invidentia</foreign> from +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>invidendo</foreign>, and so avoid the doubtful name +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>invidia</foreign>; for this word is probably derived +from <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>in</foreign> and +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>video</foreign>, looking +<pb n='372'/><anchor id='Pg372'/> +too closely into another's fortune; as it is said in the +Melanippus, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Who envies me the flower of my children? +</quote> + +<p> +where the Latin is <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>invidit florem</foreign>. It may +appear not good Latin, but it is very well put by Accius; for as +<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>video</foreign> governs an accusative case, so it is +more correct to say <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>invideo florem</foreign> +than <foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>flori</foreign>. We are debarred from saying so by +common usage: the poet stood in his own right, and expressed himself +with more freedom. +</p> + +<p> +X. Therefore compassion and envy are consistent in the +same man; for whoever is uneasy at any one's adversity, is +also uneasy at another's prosperity: as Theophrastus while +he laments the death of his companion Callisthenes, is at +the same time disturbed at the success of Alexander; and +therefore he says, that Callisthenes met with a man of the +greatest power and good fortune, but one who did not know +how to make use of his good fortune. And as pity is an +uneasiness which arises from the misfortunes of another, so +envy is an uneasiness that proceeds from the good success of +another: therefore whoever is capable of pity, is capable of +envy. But a wise man is incapable of envy, and consequently +incapable of pity. But were a wise man used to grieve, to +pity also would be familiar to him; therefore to grieve, is a +feeling which cannot affect a wise man. Now, though these +reasonings of the Stoics, and their conclusions, are rather +strained and distorted, and ought to be expressed in a less +stringent and narrow manner, yet great stress is to be laid on +the opinions of those men who have a peculiarly bold and +manly turn of thought and sentiment. For our friends the +Peripatetics, notwithstanding all their erudition, gravity, and +fluency of language, do not satisfy me about the moderation +of these disorders and diseases of the soul which they insist +upon; for every evil, though moderate, is in its nature great. +But our object is to make out that the wise man is free from +all evil; for as the body is unsound if it is ever so slightly +affected, so the mind under any moderate disorder loses its +soundness: therefore the Romans have, with their usual +accuracy of expression, called trouble, and anguish, and vexation, +on account of the analogy between a troubled mind and +a diseased body, disorders. The Greeks call all perturbation +of mind by pretty nearly the same name; for they name every +<pb n='373'/><anchor id='Pg373'/> +turbid motion of the soul πάθος, that is to say, a distemper. +But we have given them a more proper name; for a disorder +of the mind is very like a disease of the body. But lust does +not resemble sickness; neither does immoderate joy, which is +an elated and exulting pleasure of the mind. Fear, too, is +not very like a distemper, though it is akin to grief of mind, +but properly, as is also the case with sickness of the body, so +too sickness of mind has no name separated from pain. And +therefore I must explain the origin of this pain, that is to +say, the cause that occasions this grief in the mind, as if it +were a sickness of the body. For as physicians think they +have found out the cure, when they have discovered the cause +of the distemper; so we shall discover the method of curing +melancholy, when the cause of it is found out. +</p> + +<p> +XI. The whole cause, then, is in opinion; and this observation +applies not to this grief alone, but to every other disorder +of the mind, which are of four sorts, but consisting of many +parts. For as every disorder or perturbation is a motion of +the mind, either devoid of reason, or in despite of reason, or +in disobedience to reason, and as that motion is excited by an +opinion of either good or evil; these four perturbations are +divided equally into two parts: for two of them proceed from +an opinion of good, one of which is an exulting pleasure, +that is to say, a joy elated beyond measure, arising from an +opinion of some present great good; the other is a desire +which may fairly be called even a lust, and is an immoderate +inclination after some conceived great good, without any +obedience to reason. Therefore these two kinds, the exulting +pleasure, and the lust, have their rise from an opinion of good, +as the other two, fear and grief, have from an opinion of evil. +For fear is an opinion of some great evil impending over us, +and grief is an opinion of some great evil present; and, +indeed, it is a freshly conceived opinion of an evil so great, +that to grieve at it seems right: it is of that kind, that he +who is uneasy at it thinks he has good reason to be so. Now +we should exert our utmost efforts to oppose these perturbations—which +are, as it were, so many furies let loose upon us, +and urged on by folly—if we are desirous to pass this share of +life that is allotted to us with ease and satisfaction. But of +the other feelings I shall speak elsewhere; our business at +present is to drive away grief if we can, for that shall be the +<pb n='374'/><anchor id='Pg374'/> +object of our present discussion, since you have said that it +was your opinion that a wise man might be subject to grief, +which I can by no means allow of; for it is a frightful, +miserable, and detestable thing, which we should fly from with +our utmost efforts—with all our sails and oars, as I may say. +</p> + +<p> +XII. That descendant of Tantalus, how does he appear to +you? he who sprung from Pelops, who formerly stole Hippodamia +from her father-in-law, king Œnomaus, and married +her by force? He who was descended from Jupiter himself, +how broken-hearted and dispirited does he not seem!— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Stand off, my friends, nor come within my shade,</l> +<l>That no pollutions your sound hearts pervade,</l> +<l>So foul a stain my body doth partake.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Will you condemn yourself, Thyestes, and deprive yourself of +life, on account of the greatness of another's crime? What +do you think of that son of Phœbus? do you not look upon +him as unworthy of his own father's light? +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Hollow his eyes, his body worn away,</l> +<l>His furrow'd cheeks his frequent tears betray;</l> +<l>His beard neglected, and his hoary hairs</l> +<l>Rough and uncomb'd, bespeak his bitter cares.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +O foolish Æetes, these are evils which you yourself have been +the cause of, and are not occasioned by any accidents with +which chance has visited you; and you behaved as you did, +even after you had been inured to your distress, and after the +first swelling of the mind had subsided! whereas grief consists +(as I shall show) in the notion of some recent evil; but +your grief, it is very plain, proceeded from the loss of your +kingdom, not of your daughter, for you hated her, and +perhaps with reason, but you could not calmly bear to part +with your kingdom. But surely it is an impudent grief +which preys upon a man for not being able to command +those that are free. Dionysius, it is true, the tyrant of +Syracuse, when driven from his country taught a school at +Corinth; so incapable was he of living without some authority. +But what could be more impudent than Tarquin? +who made war upon those who could not bear his tyranny; +and when he could not recover his kingdom by the aid of the +forces of the Veientians and the Latins, is said to have +betaken himself to Cuma, and to have died in that city, of +old age and grief! +</p> + +<p> +XIII. Do you, then, think that it can befal a wise man to +<pb n='375'/><anchor id='Pg375'/> +be oppressed with grief, that is to say, with misery? for, as +all perturbation is misery, grief is the rack itself. Lust is +attended with heat, exulting joy with levity, fear with meanness, +but grief with something greater than these; it consumes, +torments, afflicts, and disgraces a man; it tears him, +preys upon his mind, and utterly destroys him: if we do +not so divest ourselves of it as to throw it completely off, we +cannot be free from misery. And it is clear that there must +be grief where anything has the appearance of a present sore +and oppressing evil. Epicurus is of opinion, that grief arises +naturally from the imagination of any evil; so that whosoever +is eye-witness of any great misfortune, if he conceives that +the like may possibly befal himself, becomes sad instantly +from such an idea. The Cyrenaics think that grief is not +engendered by every kind of evil, but only by unexpected, +unforeseen evil; and that circumstance is, indeed, of no small +effect on the heightening of grief; for whatsoever comes of a +sudden appears more formidable. Hence these lines are deservedly +commended— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>I knew my son, when first he drew his breath,</l> +<l>Destined by fate to an untimely death;</l> +<l>And when I sent him to defend the Greeks,</l> +<l>War was his business, not your sportive freaks.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +XIV. Therefore, this ruminating beforehand upon future +evils which you see at a distance, makes their approach more +tolerable; and on this account, what Euripides makes +Theseus say, is much commended. You will give me leave +to translate them, as is usual with me— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>I treasured up what some learn'd sage did tell,</l> +<l>And on my future misery did dwell;</l> +<l>I thought of bitter death, of being drove</l> +<l>Far from my home by exile, and I strove</l> +<l>With every evil to possess my mind,</l> +<l>That, when they came, I the less care might find.<note place='foot'><p>This +is from the Theseus— +</p> +<p> +Ἐγὼ δὲ τοῦτο παρὰ σοφοῦ τινος μαθὼν<lb/> +εἰς φροντίδας νοῦν συμφοράς τ᾽ ἐβαλλόμην<lb/> +φυγάς τ᾽ ἐμαυτῷ προστιθεὶς πάτρας ἐμῆς.<lb/> +θανάτους τ᾽ ἀώρους, καὶ κακῶν ἄλλας ὁδοὺς<lb/> +ὥς, εἴ τι πάσχοιυμ᾽ ὦν ἐδοξαζόν ποτε<lb/> +Μή μοι νέορτον προσπεσὸν μᾶλλον δάκοι. +</p></note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +But Euripides says that of himself, which Theseus said he +had heard from some learned man, for the poet had been a +<pb n='376'/><anchor id='Pg376'/> +pupil of Anaxagoras, who, as they relate, on hearing of the +death of his son, said, <q>I knew that my son was mortal;</q> +which speech seems to intimate that such things afflict those +men who have not thought on them before. Therefore, there +is no doubt but that all those things which are considered evils +are the heavier from not being foreseen. Though, notwithstanding +this is not the only circumstance which occasions +the greatest grief, still, as the mind, by foreseeing and preparing +for it, has great power to make all grief the less, a +man should at all times consider all the events that may +befal him in this life; and certainly the excellence and divine +nature of wisdom consists in taking a near view of, and +gaining a thorough acquaintance with, all human affairs, in +not being surprised when anything happens, and in thinking, +before the event, that there is nothing but what may come +to pass. +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l rend='margin-left: 8'>Wherefore ev'ry man,</l> +<l>When his affairs go on most swimmingly,</l> +<l>E'en then it most behoves to arm himself</l> +<l>Against the coming storm: loss, danger, exile,</l> +<l>Returning ever, let him look to meet;</l> +<l>His son in fault, wife dead, or daughter sick:</l> +<l>All common accidents, and may have happen'd,</l> +<l>That nothing shall seem new or strange. But if</l> +<l>Aught has fall'n out beyond his hopes, all that</l> +<l>Let him account clear gain.<note place='foot'>Ter. Phorm. II. i. 11.</note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +XV. Therefore, as Terence has so well expressed what he +borrowed from philosophy, shall not we, from whose fountains +he drew it, say the same thing in a better manner, and abide +by it with more steadiness? Hence came that steady countenance, +which, according to Xantippe, her husband Socrates +always had; so that she said that she never observed any +difference in his looks when he went out, and when he came +home. Yet the look of that old Roman, M. Crassus, who, as +Lucilius says, never smiled but once in his lifetime, was not +of this kind, but placid and serene, for so we are told. He, +indeed, might well have had the same look at all times who +never changed his mind, from which the countenance derives +its expression. So that I am ready to borrow of the Cyrenaics +those arms against the accidents and events of life, by +means of which, by long premeditation, they break the force +<pb n='377'/><anchor id='Pg377'/> +of all approaching evils; and at the same time, I think that +those very evils themselves arise more from opinion than +nature, for, if they were real, no forecast could make them +lighter. But I shall speak more particularly on these +matters after I have first considered Epicurus's opinion, who +thinks that all people must necessarily be uneasy who believe +themselves to be in any evils, let them be either foreseen and +expected, or habitual to them; for, with him, evils are not +the less by reason of their continuance, nor the lighter for +having been foreseen; and it is folly to ruminate on evils to +come, or such as, perhaps, never may come; every evil is +disagreeable enough when it does come; but he who is constantly +considering that some evil may befal him, is loading +himself with a perpetual evil, and even should such evil +never light on him, he voluntarily takes upon himself unnecessary +misery, so that he is under constant uneasiness, +whether he actually suffers any evil, or only thinks of it. But +he makes the alleviation of grief depend on two things, a +ceasing to think on evil, and a turning to the contemplation +of pleasure. For he thinks that the mind may possibly be +under the power of reason, and follow her directions; he +forbids us, therefore, to mind trouble, and calls us off from +sorrowful reflections: he throws a mist over our eyes to +hinder us from the contemplation of misery. Having sounded +a retreat from this statement, he drives our thoughts on +again, and encourages them to view and engage the whole +mind in the various pleasures with which he thinks the life +of a wise man abounds, either from reflecting on the past, or +from the hope of what is to come. I have said these things +in my own way, the Epicureans have theirs: however, let us +examine what they say; how they say it is of little consequence. +</p> + +<p> +XVI. In the first place, they are wrong in forbidding men +to premeditate on futurity, and blaming their wish to do so; +for there is nothing that breaks the edge of grief and lightens +it more, than considering, during one's whole life, that there is +nothing which it is impossible should happen; or, than considering +what human nature is, on what conditions life was +given, and how we may comply with them. The effect of +which is, that we are always grieving, but that we never do so; +for whoever reflects on the nature of things, the various turns +<pb n='378'/><anchor id='Pg378'/> +of life, and the weakness of human nature, grieves, indeed, at +that reflection; but while so grieving he is, above all other +times, behaving as a wise man: for he gains these two things +by it; one, that while he is considering the state of human +nature he is performing the especial duties of philosophy, and +is provided with a triple medicine against adversity: in the +first place, because he has long reflected that such things +might befal him, and this reflection by itself contributes +much towards lessening and weakening all misfortunes; and, +secondly, because he is persuaded that we should bear all the +accidents which can happen to a man, with the feelings and +spirit of a man; and lastly, because he considers that what +is blameable is the only evil; but it is not your fault +that something has happened to you which it was impossible +for man to avoid. For that withdrawing of our thoughts +which he recommends when he calls us off from contemplating +our misfortunes, is an imaginary action; for it is not in our +power to dissemble or to forget those evils which lie heavy on +us; they tear, vex, and sting us—they burn us up, and leave +no breathing-time; and do you order us to forget them, (for +such forgetfulness is contrary to nature,) and at the same time +deprive us of the only assistance which nature affords, the +being accustomed to them? for that, though it is but a slow +medicine (I mean that which is brought by lapse of time), is +still a very effectual one. You order me to employ my +thoughts on something good, and forget my misfortunes. +You would say something worthy a great philosopher, if you +thought those things good which are best suited to the +dignity of human nature. +</p> + +<p> +XVII. Should Pythagoras, Socrates, or Plato, say to me, +Why are you dejected, or sad? Why do you faint, and +yield to fortune, which, perhaps, may have power to harass +and disturb you, but should not quite unman you? There +is great power in the virtues; rouse them if they chance to +droop. Take fortitude for your guide, which will give you +such spirits, that you will despise everything that can befal +man, and look on it as a trifle. Add to this temperance, +which is moderation, and which was just now called frugality, +which will not suffer you to do anything base or bad—for +what is worse or baser than an effeminate man? Not even +justice will suffer you to act in this manner, though she +<pb n='379'/><anchor id='Pg379'/> +seems to have the least weight in this affair; but still, +notwithstanding, even she will inform you that you are +doubly unjust when you both require what does not belong +to you, inasmuch as though you who have been born mortal, +demand to be placed in the condition of the immortals, and +at the same time you take it much to heart that you are to +restore what was lent you. What answer will you make to +prudence, who informs you that she is a virtue sufficient of +herself both to teach you a good life, and also to secure you +a happy one? And, indeed, if she were fettered by external +circumstances, and dependent on others, and if she did not +originate in herself and return to herself, and also embrace +everything in herself, so as to seek no adventitious aid from +any quarter, I cannot imagine why she should appear deserving +of such lofty panegyrics, or of being sought after with +such excessive eagerness. Now, Epicurus, if you call me +back to such goods as these, I will obey you, and follow you, +and use you as my guide, and even forget, as you order me, +all my misfortunes; and I will do this the more readily from +a persuasion that they are not to be ranked amongst evils at +all. But you are for bringing my thoughts over to pleasure. +What pleasures? pleasures of the body, I imagine, or such as +are recollected or imagined on account of the body. Is this +all? Do I explain your opinion rightly? for your disciples +are used to deny that we understand at all what Epicurus +means. This is what he says, and what that subtle fellow, +old Zeno, who is one of the sharpest of them, used, when I +was attending lectures at Athens, to enforce and talk so +loudly of; saying that he alone was happy who could enjoy +present pleasure, and who was at the same time persuaded +that he should enjoy it without pain, either during the whole +or the greatest part of his life; or if, should any pain interfere, +if it was very sharp, then it must be short; should it be +of longer continuance, it would have more of what was sweet +than bitter in it; that whosoever reflected on these things +would be happy, especially if satisfied with the good things +which he had already enjoyed, and if he were without fear of +death, or of the Gods. +</p> + +<p> +XVIII. You have here a representation of a happy life +according to Epicurus, in the words of Zeno, so that there is +no room for contradiction in any point. What then? Can +<pb n='380'/><anchor id='Pg380'/> +the proposing and thinking of such a life make Thyestes +grief the less, or Æetes's, of whom I spoke above, or Telamon's, +who was driven from his country to penury and +banishment? in wonder at whom men exclaimed thus:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Is this the man surpassing glory raised?</l> +<l>Is this that Telamon so highly praised</l> +<l>By wondering Greece, at whose sight, like the sun,</l> +<l>All others with diminish'd lustre shone?</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Now, should any one, as the same author says, find his +spirits sink with the loss of his fortune, he must apply to +those grave philosophers of antiquity for relief, and not to +these voluptuaries: for what great abundance of good do +they promise? Suppose that we allow that to be without +pain is the chief good? yet that is not called pleasure. But +it is not necessary at present to go through the whole: the +question is, to what point are we to advance in order to abate +our grief? Grant that to be in pain is the greatest evil; +whosoever, then, has proceeded so far as not to be in pain, is +he, therefore, in immediate possession of the greatest good? +Why, Epicurus, do we use any evasions, and not allow in our +own words the same feeling to be pleasure, which you are +used to boast of with such assurance? Are these your words +or not? This is what you say in that book which contains +all the doctrine of your school; for I will perform, on this +occasion, the office of a translator, lest any one should +imagine that I am inventing anything. Thus you speak: +<q>Nor can I form any notion of the chief good, abstracted +from those pleasures which are perceived by taste, or from +what depends on hearing music, or abstracted from ideas +raised by external objects visible to the eye, or by agreeable +motions, or from those other pleasures which are perceived +by the whole man by means of any of his senses; nor can it +possibly be said that the pleasures of the mind are excited +only by what is good; for I have perceived men's minds to +be pleased with the hopes of enjoying those things which I +mentioned above, and with the idea that it should enjoy them +without any interruption from pain.</q> And these are his +exact words, so that any one may understand what were the +pleasures with which Epicurus was acquainted. Then he +speaks thus, a little lower down: <q>I have often inquired of +those who have been called wise men, what would be the +<pb n='381'/><anchor id='Pg381'/> +remaining good if they should exclude from consideration all +these pleasures, unless they meant to give us nothing but +words? I could never learn anything from them; and +unless they choose that all virtue and wisdom should vanish +and come to nothing, they must say with me, that the only +road to happiness lies through those pleasures which I mentioned +above.</q> What follows is much the same, and his whole +book on the chief good everywhere abounds with the same +opinions. Will you, then, invite Telamon to this kind of life +to ease his grief? and should you observe any one of your +friends under affliction, would you rather prescribe him a +sturgeon than a treatise of Socrates? or advise him to listen +to the music of a water-organ rather than to Plato? or lay +before him the beauty and variety of some garden, put a +nosegay to his nose, burn perfumes before him, and bid him +crown himself with a garland of roses and woodbines? Should +you add one thing more, you would certainly wipe out all +his grief. +</p> + +<p> +XIX. Epicurus must admit these arguments; or he must +take out of his book what I just now said was a literal translation; +or rather he must destroy his whole book, for it is +crammed full of pleasures. We must inquire, then, how we +can ease him of his grief, who speaks in this manner:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>My present state proceeds from fortune's stings;</l> +<l>By birth I boast of a descent from kings;</l> +<l>Hence may you see from what a noble height</l> +<l>I'm sunk by fortune to this abject plight.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +What! to ease his grief, must we mix him a cup of sweet +wine, or something of that kind? Lo! the same poet presents +us with another sentiment somewhere else:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +I, Hector, once so great, now claim your aid. +</quote> + +<p> +We should assist her, for she looks out for help. +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Where shall I now apply, where seek support?</l> +<l>Where hence betake me, or to whom resort?</l> +<l>No means remain of comfort or of joy,</l> +<l>In flames my palace, and in ruins Troy;</l> +<l>Each wall, so late superb, deformed nods,</l> +<l>And not an altar's left t' appease the gods.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +You know what should follow, and particularly this:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Of father, country, and of friends bereft,</l> +<l>Not one of all these sumptuous temples left;</l> +<l>Which, whilst the fortune of our house did stand,</l> +<l>With rich-wrought ceilings spoke the artist's hand.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<pb n='382'/><anchor id='Pg382'/> + +<p> +O excellent poet! though despised by those who sing the +verses of Euphorion. He is sensible that all things which +come on a sudden are harder to be borne. Therefore, when +he had set off the riches of Priam to the best advantage, +which had the appearance of a long continuance, what does +he add?— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Lo, these all perish'd in one blazing pile;</l> +<l>The foe old Priam of his life beguiled,</l> +<l>And with his blood, thy altar, Jove, defiled.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Admirable poetry! There is something mournful in the +subject, as well as in the words and measure. We must +drive away this grief of her's: how is that to be done? +Shall we lay her on a bed of down: introduce a singer; +shall we burn cedar, or present her with some pleasant +liquor, and provide her something to eat? Are these the +good things which remove the most afflicting grief? for +you but just now said you knew of no other good. I should +agree with Epicurus that we ought to be called off from grief +to contemplate good things, if we could only agree upon what +was good. +</p> + +<p> +XX. It may be said, What! do you imagine Epicurus +really meant this, and that he maintained anything so +sensual? Indeed I do not imagine so, for I am sensible that +he has uttered many excellent things and sentiments, and +delivered maxims of great weight. Therefore, as I said +before, I am speaking of his acuteness, not of his morals. +Though he should hold those pleasures in contempt, which +he just now commended, yet I must remember wherein +he places the chief good. For he was not contented with +barely saying this, but he has explained what he meant: +he says, that taste, and embraces, and sports, and music, +and those forms which affect the eyes with pleasure, are the +chief good. Have I invented this? have I misrepresented +him? I should be glad to be confuted; for what am I endeavouring +at, but to clear up truth in every question? Well, +but the same man says, that pleasure is at its height where +pain ceases, and that to be free from all pain is the very +greatest pleasure. Here are three very great mistakes in a +very few words. One is, that he contradicts himself; for, but +just now, he could not imagine anything good, unless the +senses were in a manner tickled with some pleasure; but +<pb n='383'/><anchor id='Pg383'/> +now he says that to be free from pain is the highest pleasure. +Can any one contradict himself more? The next mistake is, +that where there is naturally a threefold division, the first, to +be pleased; next, to be in pain; the last, to be affected neither +by pleasure nor pain: he imagines the first and the last to be +the same, and makes no difference betwixt pleasure and a +cessation of pain. The last mistake he falls into in common +with some others; which is this: that as virtue is the most +desirable thing, and as philosophy has been investigated with +a view to the attainment of it, he has separated the chief +good from virtue. But he commends virtue, and that frequently; +and indeed C. Gracchus, when he had made the +largest distributions of the public money, and had exhausted +the treasury, nevertheless spoke much of defending the treasury. +What signifies what men say, when we see what they +do? That Piso, who was surnamed Frugal, had always +harangued against the law that was proposed for distributing +the corn, but when it had passed, though a man of consular +dignity, he came to receive the corn. Gracchus observed +Piso standing in the court, and asked him, in the hearing of +the people, how it was consistent for him to take corn by a +law he had himself opposed? <q>It was,</q> said he, <q>against your +distributing my goods to every man as you thought proper; +but, as you do so, I claim my share.</q> Did not this grave +and wise man sufficiently show that the public revenue was +dissipated by the Sempronian law? Read Gracchus's speeches, +and you will pronounce him the advocate of the treasury. +Epicurus denies that any one can live pleasantly who does +not lead a life of virtue; he denies that fortune has any power +over a wise man: he prefers a spare diet to great plenty, and +maintains that a wise man is always happy. All these things +become a philosopher to say, but they are not consistent with +pleasure. But the reply is, that he doth not mean <emph>that</emph> pleasure: +let him mean any pleasure, it must be such a one as +makes no part of virtue. But suppose we are mistaken as +to his pleasure, are we so too as to his pain? I maintain +therefore the impropriety of language which that man uses +when talking of virtue, who would measure every great evil +by pain? +</p> + +<p> +XXI. And indeed the Epicureans, those best of men, for +there is no order of men more innocent, complain, that I take +<pb n='384'/><anchor id='Pg384'/> +great pains to inveigh against Epicurus. We are rivals, I +suppose, for some honour or distinction. I place the chief +good in the mind, he in the body; I in virtue, he in pleasure; +and the Epicureans are up in arms, and implore the assistance +of their neighbours, and many are ready to fly to their aid. +But, as for my part, I declare that I am very indifferent about +the matter, and that I consider the whole discussion which +they are so anxious about at an end. For what! is the contention +about the Punic war? on which very subject, though +M. Cato and L. Lentulus were of different opinions, still there +was no difference betwixt them. But these men behave with +too much heat, especially as the opinions which they would +uphold are no very spirited ones, and such as they dare not +plead for either in the senate, or before the assembly of the +people, or before the army, or the censors: but, however, I +will argue with them another time, and with such a disposition +that no quarrel shall arise between us; for I shall be +ready to yield to their opinions when founded on truth. +Only I must give them this advice: That were it ever so +true, that a wise man regards nothing but the body; or, to +express myself with more decency, never does anything except +what is expedient, and views all things with exclusive +reference to his own advantage; as such things are not very +commendable, they should confine them to their own breasts, +and leave off talking with that parade of them. +</p> + +<p> +XXII. What remains is the opinion of the Cyrenaics, who +think that men grieve when anything happens unexpectedly. +And that is, indeed, as I said before, a great aggravation of +a misfortune; and I know that it appeared so to Chrysippus, +<q>Whatever falls out unexpected is so much the heavier.</q> +But the whole question does not turn on this; though the +sudden approach of an enemy sometimes occasions more +confusion than it would if you had expected him, and a sudden +storm at sea throws the sailors into a greater fright than +one which they have foreseen; and it is the same in many +other cases. But when you carefully consider the nature of +what was expected, you will find nothing more, than that all +things which come on a sudden appear greater; and this +upon two accounts: first of all, because you have not +time to consider how great the accident is; and secondly, +because you are probably persuaded that you could have +<pb n='385'/><anchor id='Pg385'/> +guarded against it had you foreseen it, and therefore the +misfortune, having been seemingly encountered by your own +fault, makes your grief the greater. That it is so, time +evinces; which, as it advances, brings with it so much mitigation, +that though the same misfortunes continue, the grief +not only becomes the less, but in some cases is entirely removed. +Many Carthaginians were slaves at Rome, and many Macedonians +when Perseus their king was taken prisoner. I saw, +too, when I was a young man, some Corinthians in the Peloponnesus. +They might all have lamented with Andromache,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +All these I saw...; +</quote> + +<p> +but they had perhaps given over lamenting themselves, for by +their countenances, and speech, and other gestures, you might +have taken them for Argives or Sicyonians. And I myself +was more concerned at the ruined walls of Corinth, than the +Corinthians themselves were, whose minds by frequent reflection +and time had become callous to such sights. I have +read a book of Clitomachus, which he sent to his fellow-citizens, +who were prisoners, to comfort them after the +destruction of Carthage; there is in it a treatise written by +Carneades, which, as Clitomachus says, he had inserted into +his book; the subject was, <q>That it appeared probable that +a wise man would grieve at the state of subjection of his +country,</q> and all the arguments which Carneades used against +this proposition are set down in the book. There the philosopher +applies such a strong medicine to a fresh grief, as +would be quite unnecessary in one of any continuance; nor, +if this very book had been sent to the captives some years +after, would it have found any wounds to cure, but only +scars; for grief, by a gentle progress and slow degrees, wears +away imperceptibly. Not that the circumstances which gave +rise to it are altered, or can be, but that custom teaches what +reason should, that those things which before seemed to be of +some consequence, are of no such great importance after all. +</p> + +<p> +XXIII. It may be said, What occasion is there to apply to +reason, or to any sort of consolation such as we generally +make use of, to mitigate the grief of the afflicted? For we +have this argument always at hand, that nothing ought to +appear unexpected. But how will any one be enabled to +bear his misfortunes the better by knowing that it is unavoidable +<pb n='386'/><anchor id='Pg386'/> +that such things should happen to man? Saying +this subtracts nothing from the sum of the grief: it only +asserts that nothing has fallen out but what might have been +anticipated; and yet this manner of speaking has some little +consolation in it, though I apprehend not a great deal. Therefore +those unlooked-for things have not so much force as to +give rise to all our grief; the blow perhaps may fall the +heavier, but whatever happens does not appear the greater on +that account; no, it is the fact of its having happened lately, +and not of its having befallen us unexpectedly, that makes it +seem the greater. There are two ways then of discerning the +truth, not only of things that seem evil, but of those that +have the appearance of good. For we either inquire into the +nature of the thing, of what description, and magnitude, and +importance it is,—as sometimes with regard to poverty, the +burden of which we may lighten when by our disputations +we show how few things nature requires, and of what a +trifling kind they are,—or, without any subtle arguing, we +refer them to examples, as here we instance a Socrates, there +a Diogenes, and then again that line in Cæcilius, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Wisdom is oft conceal'd in mean attire. +</quote> + +<p> +For as poverty is of equal weight with all, what reason can +be given, why what was borne by Fabricius should be spoken +of by any one else as unsupportable when it falls upon themselves? +Of a piece with this is that other way of comforting, +which consists in pointing out that nothing has happened but +what is common to human nature; for this argument doth +not only inform us what human nature is, but implies that +all things are tolerable which others have borne and are +bearing. +</p> + +<p> +XXIV. Is poverty the subject? they tell you of many who +have submitted to it with patience. Is it the contempt of +honours? they acquaint you with some who never enjoyed +any, and were the happier for it; and of those who have preferred +a private retired life to public employment, mentioning +their names with respect; they tell you of the verse<note place='foot'><p>This +refers to the speech of Agamemnon in Euripides, in the Iphigenia +in Aulis— +</p> +<p> +... Ζηλῶ σε, γέρον,<lb/> +ζηλῶ δ᾽ ἀνδρῶν ὅς ἀκίνδυνον<lb/> +βίον ἐξεπέρασ, ἀγνὼς, ἀκλεής.—v. 15. +</p></note> of that +<pb n='387'/><anchor id='Pg387'/> +most powerful king, who praises an old man, and pronounces +him happy, because he was unknown to fame, and seemed +likely to arrive at the hour of death in obscurity and without +notice. Thus too they have examples for those who are +deprived of their children; they who are under any great +grief are comforted by instances of like affliction; and thus +the endurance of every misfortune is rendered more easy by +the fact of others having undergone the same, and the fate of +others causes what has happened to appear less important +than it has been previously thought, and reflection thus discovers +to us how much opinion had imposed on us. And +this is what that Telamon declares, <q>I, when my son was +born,</q> etc.; and thus Theseus, <q>I on my future misery +did dwell;</q> and Anaxagoras, <q>I knew my son was mortal.</q> +All these men, by frequently reflecting on human affairs, had +discovered that they were by no means to be estimated by +the opinion of the multitude; and indeed it seems to me to +be pretty much the same case with those who consider beforehand +as with those who derive their remedies from time, +excepting that a kind of reason cures the one, and the other +remedy is provided by nature; by which we discover (and +this contains the whole marrow of the matter) that what was +imagined to be the greatest evil, is by no means so great as +to defeat the happiness of life. And the effect of this is, that +the blow is greater by reason of its not having been foreseen, +and not, as they suppose, that when similar misfortunes befal +two different people, that man only is affected with grief +whom this calamity has befallen unexpectedly. So that some +persons, under the oppression of grief, are said to have borne +it actually worse for hearing of this common condition of +man, that we are born under such conditions as render it +impossible for a man to be exempt from all evil. +</p> + +<p> +XXV. For this reason Carneades, as I see our friend +Antiochus writes, used to blame Chrysippus for commending +these verses of Euripides,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Man, doom'd to care, to pain, disease, and strife,</l> +<l>Walks his short journey thro' the vale of life:</l> +<l>Watchful attends the cradle and the grave,</l> +<l>And passing generations longs to save:</l> +<l>Last, dies himself: yet wherefore should we mourn?</l> +<l>For man must to his kindred dust return;</l> +<pb n='388'/><anchor id='Pg388'/> +<l>Submit to the destroying hand of fate,</l> +<l>As ripen'd ears the harvest-sickle wait.<note place='foot'><p>This +is a fragment from the Hypsipyle— +</p> +<p> +Ἔφυ μὲν οὐδεις ὅστις οὐ πονεῖ βροτῶν;<lb/> +θάπτει τε τέκνα χάτερ᾽ αὖ κτᾶται νεὰ,<lb/> +αὐτός τε θνήσκει. καὶ τάδ᾽ ἄχθονται βροτοὶ<lb/> +εἰς γῆν φέροντες γῆν; ἀναγκαιως δ᾽ ἔχει<lb/> +βίον θερίζειν ὦστε κάρπιμον στάχυν. +</p></note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +He would not allow a speech of this kind to avail at all to +the cure of our grief, for he said it was a lamentable case +itself, that we were fallen into the hands of such a cruel fate; +and that a speech like that, preaching up comfort from the +misfortunes of another, was a comfort adapted only to those +of a malevolent disposition. But to me it appears far otherwise; +for the necessity of bearing what is the common condition +of humanity forbids your resisting the will of the +Gods, and reminds you that you are a man; which reflection +greatly alleviates grief; and the enumeration of these examples +is not produced with a view to please those of a malevolent +disposition, but in order that any one in affliction may be +induced to bear what he observes many others have previously +borne with tranquillity and moderation. For they who are +falling to pieces, and cannot hold together through the greatness +of their grief, should be supported by all kinds of +assistance. From whence Chrysippus thinks that grief is +called λύπη, as it were λύσις, that is to say, a dissolution of +the whole man. The whole of which I think may be pulled +up by the roots, by explaining, as I said at the beginning, the +cause of grief; for it is nothing else but an opinion and +judgment formed of a present acute evil. And thus any +bodily pain, let it be ever so grievous, may be endurable +where any hopes are proposed of some considerable good; +and we receive such consolation from a virtuous and illustrious +life, that they who lead such lives are seldom attacked +by grief, or but slightly affected by it. +</p> + +<p> +XXVI. But as besides this opinion of great evil there is +this other added also, that we ought to lament what has +happened, that it is right so to do, and part of our duty; +then is brought about that terrible disorder of mind, grief. +And it is to this opinion that we owe all those various and +horrid kinds of lamentation, that neglect of our persons, +<pb n='389'/><anchor id='Pg389'/> +that womanish tearing of our cheeks, that striking on our +thighs, breasts, and heads. Thus Agamemnon, in Homer and +in Accius,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Tears in his grief his uncomb'd locks;<note place='foot'>Πολλὰς +ἐκ κεφαλῆς προθελύμνους ἕλκετο χαίτας.—Il. x. 15.</note> +</quote> + +<p> +from whence comes that pleasant saying of Bion, that the +foolish king in his sorrow tore away the hairs of his head, +imagining that his grief would be alleviated by baldness. +But men do all these things from being persuaded that they +ought to do so. And thus Æschines inveighs against Demosthenes +for sacrificing within seven days after the death of his +daughter. But with what eloquence, with what fluency does +he attack him! what sentiments does he collect! what words +does he hurl against him! You may see by this that an +orator may do anything; but nobody would approve of such +licence if it were not that we have an idea innate in our +minds, that every good man ought to lament the loss of a +relation as bitterly as possible. And it is owing to this that +some men, when in sorrow, betake themselves to deserts, as +Homer says of Bellerophon;— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l rend='margin-left: 8'>Distracted in his mind,</l> +<l>Forsook by heaven, forsaking human kind,</l> +<l>Wide o'er the Aleïan field he chose to stray,</l> +<l>A long, forlorn, uncomfortable way!<note place='foot'><p> +Ητοι ο καππεδιον το Αληιον οιος αλατο<lb/> +ον θυμον κατεδων, πατον ανθρωπων αλεεινων.—Il. vi. 201. +</p></note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +And thus Niobe is feigned to have been turned into stone, +from her never speaking, I suppose, in her grief. But they +imagine Hecuba to have been converted into a bitch, from +her rage and bitterness of mind. There are others who love +to converse with solitude itself, when in grief, as the nurse in +Ennius,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Fain would I to the heavens and earth relate</l> +<l>Medea's ceaseless woes and cruel fate.<note place='foot'><p>This +is a translation from Euripides— +</p> +<p> +Ὥσθ᾽ ἵμερος μ᾽ ὑπῆλθε γῇ τε κ᾽ οὐρανῷ<lb/> +λέξαι μολούσῃ δεῦρο Μηδείας τύχας.—Med. 57. +</p></note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +XXVII. Now all these things are done in grief, from a +persuasion of their truth, and propriety, and necessity; and +it is plain, that those who behave thus, do so from a conviction +of its being their duty; for should these mourners by +chance drop their grief, and either act or speak for a moment +<pb n='390'/><anchor id='Pg390'/> +in a more calm or cheerful manner, they presently check +themselves and return to their lamentations again, and blame +themselves for having been guilty of any intermissions from +their grief. And parents and masters generally correct +children not by words only, but by blows, if they show any +levity by either word or deed when the family is under +affliction, and, as it were, oblige them to be sorrowful. What? +does it not appear, when you have ceased to mourn, and +have discovered that your grief has been ineffectual, that +the whole of that mourning was voluntary, on your part? +What does that man say, in Terence, who punishes himself, +the Self-tormentor? +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>I think I do my son less harm, O Chremes,</l> +<l>As long as I myself am miserable.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +He determines to be miserable: and can any one determine +on anything against his will? +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +I well might think that I deserved all evil. +</quote> + +<p> +He would think he deserved any misfortune, were he +otherwise than miserable! Therefore, you see the evil is +in opinion, not in nature. How is it, when some things do +of themselves prevent your grieving at them? as in Homer, +so many died and were buried daily, that they had not +leisure to grieve: where you find these lines,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>The great, the bold, by thousands daily fall,</l> +<l>And endless were the grief to weep for all.</l> +<l>Eternal sorrows what avails to shed?</l> +<l>Greece honours not with solemn fasts the dead:</l> +<l>Enough when death demands the brave to pay</l> +<l>The tribute of a melancholy day.</l> +<l>One chief with patience to the grave resign'd,</l> +<l>Our care devolves on others left behind.<note place='foot'><p> +Λίην γὰρ πολλοὶ καὶ ἐπήτριμοι ἤυατα πάντα<lb/> +πίπτουσιν, πότε κέν τις ἀναπνεύσειε πόνοιο?<lb/> +ἀλλὰ χρὴ τὸν μὲν καταθαπτέμεν, ὅς κε θάνησι,<lb/> +νηλέα θυμὸν ἔχοντας, ἔπ᾽ ἤματι δακρυσάντας.—Hom. Il. xix. 226. +</p></note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Therefore it is in our own power to lay aside grief upon +occasion; and is there any opportunity (seeing the thing is +in our own power) that we should let slip of getting rid of +care and grief? It was plain, that the friends of Cnæus +Pompeius, when they saw him fainting under his wounds, +at the very moment of that most miserable and bitter +<pb n='391'/><anchor id='Pg391'/> +sight were under great uneasiness how they themselves, +surrounded by the enemy as they were, should escape, and +were employed in nothing but encouraging the rowers and +aiding their escape; but when they reached Tyre, they began +to grieve and lament over him. Therefore, as fear with them +prevailed over grief, cannot reason and true philosophy have +the same effect with a wise man? +</p> + +<p> +XXVIII. But what is there more effectual to dispel grief +than the discovery that it answers no purpose, and has been +undergone to no account? Therefore, if we can get rid +of it, we need never have been subject to it. It must be +acknowledged, then, that men take up grief wilfully and +knowingly; and this appears from the patience of those who, +after they have been exercised in afflictions and are better +able to bear whatever befals them, suppose themselves +hardened against fortune; as that person in Euripides— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Had this the first essay of fortune been,</l> +<l>And I no storms thro' all my life had seen,</l> +<l>Wild as a colt I'd broke from reason's sway;</l> +<l>But frequent griefs have taught me to obey.<note place='foot'><p>This +is one of the fragments of Euripides which we are unable to +assign to any play in particular; it occurs Var. Ed. Tr. Inc. 167. +</p> +<p> +Εἰ μέν τόδ᾽ ἦμαρ πρῶτον ἦν κακουμένω<lb/> +καὶ μὴ μακρὰν δὴ διὰ πόνων ἐναυστόλουν<lb/> +εἰκὸς σφαδάζειν ἦν ἄν, ὡς νεόζυγα<lb/> +πῶλον, χάλινον ἀρτίως δεδεγμένον;<lb/> +νῦν δ᾽ ἀμβλύς εἰμι, καὶ κατηρτυκὼς κακῶν. +</p></note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +As, then, the frequent bearing of misery makes grief the +lighter, we must necessarily perceive that the cause and +original of it does not lie in the calamity itself. Your principal +philosophers, or lovers of wisdom, though they have +not yet arrived at perfect wisdom, are not they sensible that +they are in the greatest evil? For they are foolish, and +foolishness is the greatest of all evils, and yet they lament +not. How shall we account for this? Because opinion is +not fixed upon that kind of evil; it is not our opinion that it +is right, meet, and our duty to be uneasy because we are +not all wise men. Whereas this opinion is strongly affixed +to that uneasiness where mourning is concerned, which is the +greatest of all grief. Therefore Aristotle, when he blames +some ancient philosophers for imagining that by their genius +<pb n='392'/><anchor id='Pg392'/> +they had brought philosophy to the highest perfection, says, +they must be either extremely foolish or extremely vain; but +that he himself could see that great improvements had been +made therein in a few years, and that philosophy would in a +little time arrive at perfection. And Theophrastus is reported +to have reproached nature at his death for giving to stags +and crows so long a life, which was of no use to them, but +allowing only so short a span to men, to whom length of days +would have been of the greatest use; for if the life of man +could have been lengthened, it would have been able to +provide itself with all kinds of learning, and with arts in the +greatest perfection. He lamented, therefore, that he was +dying just when he had begun to discover these. What? +does not every grave and distinguished philosopher acknowledge +himself ignorant of many things, and confess that +there are many things which he must learn over and over +again? and yet, though these men are sensible that they are +standing still in the very midway of folly, than which +nothing can be worse, they are under no great affliction, +because no opinion that it is their duty to lament is ever +mingled with this knowledge. What shall we say of those +who think it unbecoming in a man to grieve? amongst whom +we may reckon Q. Maximus, when he buried his son that had +been consul, and L. Paulus, who lost two sons within a few +days of one another. Of the same opinion was M. Cato, +who lost his son just after he had been elected prætor, and +many others, whose names I have collected in my book on +Consolation. Now what made these men so easy, but their +persuasion that grief and lamentation was not becoming in +a man? Therefore, as some give themselves up to grief +from an opinion that it is right so to do, they refrained +themselves, from an opinion that it was discreditable; from +which we may infer that grief is owing more to opinion than +nature. +</p> + +<p> +XXIX. It may be said, on the other side, Who is so mad as +to grieve of his own accord? Pain proceeds from nature; +which you must submit to, say they, agreeably to what even +your own Crantor teaches, for it presses and gains upon you +unavoidably, and cannot possibly be resisted. So that the +very same Oileus, in Sophocles, who had before comforted +Telamon on the death of Ajax, on hearing of the death of +<pb n='393'/><anchor id='Pg393'/> +his own son is broken-hearted. On this alteration of his +mind we have these lines:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Show me the man so well by wisdom taught</l> +<l>That what he charges to another's fault,</l> +<l>When like affliction doth himself betide,</l> +<l>True to his own wise counsel will abide.<note place='foot'><p>This +is only a fragment preserved by Stobæus— +</p> +<p> +Τοὺς δ᾽ ἄν μεγίστους καὶ σοφωτάτους φρενὶ<lb/> +τοιούσδ᾽ ἴδοις ἄν, οἷός ἐστι νῦν ὅδε,<lb/> +καλῶς κακῶς πράσσοντι συμπαραινέσαι;<lb/> +ὅταν δὲ δαίμων ἀνδρὸς εὐτυχοῦς τὸ πρὶν<lb/> +μάστιγ᾽ ἐρείση τοῦ βίου παλίντροπον,<lb/> +τὰ πολλὰ φροῦδα καὶ κακῶς εἰρημένα. +</p></note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Now when they urge these things, their endeavour is to prove +that nature is absolutely and wholly irresistible; and yet the +same people allow that we take greater grief on ourselves than +nature requires. What madness is it then in us to require the +same from others? But there are many reasons for our taking +grief on us. The first is from the opinion of some evil, on +the discovery and certainty of which grief comes of course. +Besides, many people are persuaded that they are doing something +very acceptable to the dead when they lament bitterly +over them. To these may be added a kind of womanish superstition, +in imagining that when they have been stricken by +the afflictions sent by the gods, to acknowledge themselves +afflicted and humbled by them is the readiest way of appeasing +them. But most men appear to be unaware what contradictions +these things are full of. They commend those +who die calmly, but they blame those who can bear the loss +of another with the same calmness, as if it were possible that +it should be true, as is occasionally said in love speeches, that +any one can love another more than himself. There is, +indeed, something excellent in this, and, if you examine it, +something no less just than true, that we love those who +ought to be most dear to us as well as we love ourselves; but +to love them more than ourselves is absolutely impossible; +nor is it desirable in friendship that I should love my friend +more than myself, or that he should love me so; for this +would occasion much confusion in life, and break in upon all +the duties of it. +</p> + +<p> +XXX. But we will speak of this another time: at present +<pb n='394'/><anchor id='Pg394'/> +it is sufficient not to attribute our misery to the loss of our +friends, nor to love them more than, if they themselves could +be sensible of our conduct, they would approve of, or at least +not more than we do ourselves. Now as to what they say, +that some are not at all appeased by our consolations; and +moreover as to what they add, that the comforters themselves +acknowledge they are miserable when fortune varies the attack +and falls on them,—in both these cases the solution is easy: +for the fault here is not in nature, but in our own folly; and +much may be said against folly. But men who do not admit +of consolation seem to bespeak misery for themselves; and +they who cannot bear their misfortunes with that temper +which they recommend to others, are not more faulty in +this particular than most other persons; for we see that +covetous men find fault with others who are covetous; as +do the vain-glorious with those who appear too wholly devoted +to the pursuit of glory. For it is the peculiar characteristic +of folly to perceive the vices of others, but to forget +its own. But since we find that grief is removed by length +of time, we have the greatest proof that the strength of it +depends not merely on time, but on the daily consideration +of it. For if the cause continues the same, and the man be +the same, how can there be any alteration in the grief, if there +is no change in what occasioned the grief, nor in him who +grieves? Therefore it is from daily reflecting that there is +no real evil in the circumstance for which you grieve, and not +from the length of time, that you procure a remedy for your +grief. +</p> + +<p> +XXXI. Here some people talk of moderate grief; but if +such be natural, what occasion is there for consolation? for +nature herself will determine the measure of it; but if it +depends on and is caused by opinion, the whole opinion +should be destroyed. I think that it has been sufficiently +said, that grief arises from an opinion of some present evil, +which includes this belief, that it is incumbent on us to grieve. +To this definition Zeno has added very justly, that the opinion +of this present evil should be recent. Now this word recent +they explain thus;—those are not the only recent things which +happened a little while ago, but as long as there shall be any +force or vigour or freshness in that imagined evil, so long +it is entitled to the name of recent. Take the case of +<pb n='395'/><anchor id='Pg395'/> +Artemisia, the wife of Mausolus king of Caria, who made that +noble sepulchre at Halicarnassus; whilst she lived she lived +in grief, and died of it, being worn out by it, for that +opinion was always recent with her: but you cannot call +that recent, which has already begun to decay through +time. Now the duty of a comforter is, to remove grief +entirely, to quiet it, or draw it off as much as you can, or +else to keep it under, and prevent its spreading any further, +and to divert one's attention to other matters. There are +some who think with Cleanthes, that the only duty of a comforter +is to prove, that what one is lamenting is by no means +an evil. Others, as the Peripatetics, prefer urging that the +evil is not great. Others, with Epicurus, seek to divert your +attention from the evil to good: some think it sufficient to +show, that nothing has happened but what you had reason to +expect, and this is the practice of the Cyrenaics. But Chrysippus +thinks that the main thing in comforting is, to remove +the opinion from the person who is grieving, that to grieve is +his bounden duty. There are others who bring together all +these various kinds of consolations, for people are differently +affected; as I have done myself in my book on Consolation: +for as my own mind was much disordered, I have attempted +in that book to discover every method of cure. But the +proper season is as much to be attended to in the cure of the +mind, as of the body; as Prometheus in Æschylus, on its +being said to him, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>I think, Prometheus, you this tenet hold,</l> +<l>That all men's reason should their rage control;</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +answers, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Yes, when one reason properly applies;</l> +<l>Ill-timed advice will make the storm but rise.<note place='foot'><p> +Ωκ. Οὐκοῦν Προμηθεῦ τοῦτο γιγνώσκεις ὅτι<lb/> +ὀργῆς νοσούσης εἰσὶν ἰατροὶ λόγοι.<lb/> +Πρ. ἐάν τις ἐν καιρῷ γε μαλθάσση κέαρ<lb/> +καὶ μὴ σφριγῶντα θυμὸν ἰσχναίνη βίᾳ. +</p> +<p> +Æsch. Prom. v. 378. +</p></note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +XXXII. But the principal medicine to be applied in consolation, +is to maintain either that it is no evil at all, or a very +inconsiderable one: the next best to that is, to speak of the +common condition of life, having a view, if possible, to the +state of the person whom you comfort particularly. The +third is, that it is folly to wear oneself out with grief which +<pb n='396'/><anchor id='Pg396'/> +can avail nothing. For the comfort of Cleanthes is suitable +only for a wise man, who is in no need of any comfort at all; +for could you persuade one in grief, that nothing is an evil +but what is base, you would not only cure him of grief, but +folly. But the time for such precepts is not well chosen. +Besides, Cleanthes does not seem to me sufficiently aware +that affliction may very often proceed from that very thing +which he himself allows to be the greatest misfortune. For +what shall we say? When Socrates had convinced Alcibiades, +as we are told, that he had no distinctive qualifications as a +man different from other people, and that in fact there was +no difference betwixt him, though a man of the highest rank, +and a porter; and when Alcibiades became uneasy at this, +and entreated Socrates, with tears in his eyes, to make him a +man of virtue, and to cure him of that mean position; what +shall we say to this, Cleanthes? Was there no evil in what +afflicted Alcibiades thus? What strange things does Lycon +say? who, making light of grief, says that it arises from trifles, +from things that affect our fortune or bodies, not from the +evils of the mind. What, then—did not the grief of Alcibiades +proceed from the defects and evils of the mind? I have +already said enough of Epicurus's consolation. +</p> + +<p> +XXXIII. Nor is that consolation much to be relied on, +though it is frequently practised, and sometimes has some effect, +namely, <q>That you are not alone in this.</q>—It has its effect, as +I said, but not always, nor with every person; for some reject +it, but much depends on the application of it; for you ought +rather to show, not how men in general have been affected +with such evils, but how men of sense have borne them. As +to Chrysippus's method, it is certainly founded in truth; but +it is difficult to apply it in time of distress. It is a work of +no small difficulty to persuade a person in affliction that he +grieves, merely because he thinks it right so to do. Certainly +then, as in pleadings we do not state all cases alike, (if I may +adopt the language of lawyers for a moment,) but adapt +what we have to say to the time, to the nature of the subject +under debate, and to the person; so too in alleviating grief, +regard should be had to what kind of cure the party to be +comforted can admit of. But, somehow or other, we have +rambled from what you originally proposed. For your question +was concerning a wise man, with whom nothing can +<pb n='397'/><anchor id='Pg397'/> +have the appearance of evil, that is not dishonourable: or at +least, anything else would seem so small an evil, that by his +wisdom he would so over-match it, as to make it wholly disappear; +and such a man makes no addition to his grief +through opinion, and never conceives it right to torment +himself above measure, nor to wear himself out with grief, +which is the meanest thing imaginable. Reason, however, it +seems, has demonstrated, (though it was not directly our +object at the moment to inquire whether anything can be +called an evil except what is base,) that it is in our power +to discern, that all the evil which there is in affliction has +nothing natural in it, but is contracted by our own voluntary +judgment of it, and the error of opinion. +</p> + +<p> +XXXIV. But the kind of affliction of which I have treated +is that which is the greatest; in order that when we have +once got rid of that, it may appear a business of less consequence +to look after remedies for the others. For there are +certain things which are usually said about poverty; and also +certain statements ordinarily applied to retired and undistinguished +life. There are particular treatises on banishment, +on the ruin of one's country, on slavery, on weakness, on +blindness, and on every incident that can come under the +name of an evil. The Greeks divide these into different +treatises and distinct books: but they do it for the sake of +employment: not but that all such discussions are full of +entertainment; and yet, as physicians, in curing the whole +body, attend to even the most insignificant part of the body +which is at all disordered, so does philosophy act, after it has +removed grief in general, (still if any other deficiency exists, +should poverty bite, should ignominy sting, should banishment +bring a dark cloud over us, or should any of those things which +I have just mentioned appear,)—there is for each its appropriate +consolation: which you shall hear whenever you please. +But we must have recourse again to the same original principle, +that a wise man is free from all sorrow, because it is vain, +because it answers no purpose, because it is not founded +in nature, but on opinion and prejudice, and is engendered +by a kind of invitation to grieve, when once men have +imagined that it is their duty to do so. When then we +have subtracted what is altogether voluntary, that mournful +uneasiness will be removed; yet some little anxiety, +<pb n='398'/><anchor id='Pg398'/> +some slight pricking will still remain. They may indeed +call this natural, provided they give it not that horrid, +solemn, melancholy name of grief, which can by no means +consist with wisdom. But how various, and how bitter, are +the roots of grief! Whatever they are, I propose, after +having felled the trunk, to destroy them all; even if it +should be necessary, by allotting a separate dissertation to +each, for I have leisure enough to do so, whatever time it +may take up. But the principle of every uneasiness is the +same, though they may appear under different names. For +envy is an uneasiness; so are emulation, detraction, anguish, +sorrow, sadness, tribulation, lamentation, vexation, grief, +trouble, affliction, and despair. The Stoics define all these +different feelings, and all those words which I have mentioned +belong to different things, and do not, as they seem, express +the same ideas; but they are to a certain extent distinct, as +I shall make appear perhaps in another place. These are +those fibres of the roots, which, as I said at first, must be +traced back and cut off, and destroyed, so that not one shall +remain. You say it is a great and difficult undertaking:—who +denies it? But what is there of any excellency which has not +its difficulty?—Yet philosophy undertakes to effect it, provided +we admit its superintendence. But enough of this: +the other books, whenever you please, shall be ready for you +here, or any where else. +</p> + +</div> + +<div> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>Book IV. On Other Perturbations Of The Mind.</head> + +<p> +I. I have often wondered, Brutus, on many occasions, at the +ingenuity and virtues of our countrymen; but nothing has +surprised me more than their development in those studies, +which, though they came somewhat late to us, have been +transported into this city from Greece. For the system of +auspices, and religious ceremonies, and courts of justice, and +appeals to the people, the senate, the establishment of an +army of cavalry and infantry, and the whole military discipline, +were instituted as early as the foundation of the city by +royal authority, partly too by laws, not without the assistance +<pb n='399'/><anchor id='Pg399'/> +of the Gods. Then with what a surprising and incredible +progress did our ancestors advance towards all kind of excellence, +when once the republic was freed from the regal +power! Not that this is a proper occasion to treat of the +manners and customs of our ancestors, or of the discipline +and constitution of the city; for I have elsewhere, particularly +in the six books I wrote on the Republic, given a +sufficiently accurate account of them. But whilst I am on +this subject, and considering the study of philosophy, I meet +with many reasons to imagine that those studies were brought +to us from abroad, and not merely imported, but preserved and +improved; for they had Pythagoras, a man of consummate +wisdom and nobleness of character, in a manner, before their +eyes; who was in Italy at the time that Lucius Brutus, the +illustrious founder of your nobility, delivered his country from +tyranny. As the doctrine of Pythagoras spread itself on all +sides, it seems probable to me, that it reached this city; and this +is not only probable of itself, but it does really appear to have +been the case from many remains of it. For who can imagine +that, when it flourished so much in that part of Italy which +was called Magna Græcia, and in some of the largest and +most powerful cities, in which, first the name of Pythagoras, +and then that of those men who were afterwards his followers, +was in so high esteem; who can imagine, I say, that our +people could shut their ears to what was said by such learned +men? Besides, it is even my opinion, that it was the great +esteem in which the Pythagoreans were held, that gave rise +to that opinion amongst those who came after him, that king +Numa was a Pythagorean. For, being acquainted with the +doctrine and principles of Pythagoras, and having heard +from their ancestors that this king was a very wise and just +man, and not being able to distinguish accurately between +times and periods that were so remote, they inferred from his +being so eminent for his wisdom, that he had been a pupil of +Pythagoras. +</p> + +<p> +II. So far we proceed on conjecture. As to the vestiges +of the Pythagoreans, though I might collect many, I shall +use but a few; because they have no connexion, with our +present purpose. For, as it is reported to have been a custom +with them to deliver certain precepts in a more abstruse +manner in verse, and to bring their minds from severe +<pb n='400'/><anchor id='Pg400'/> +thought to a more composed state by songs and musical +instruments; so Cato, a writer of the very highest authority, +says in his Origins, that it was customary with our ancestors +for the guests at their entertainments, every one in his turn, +to celebrate the praises and virtues of illustrious men in song +to the sound of the flute; from whence it is clear that poems +and songs were then composed for the voice. And, indeed, +it is also clear that poetry was in fashion from the laws of +the Twelve Tables, wherein it is provided, that no song should +be made to the injury of another. Another argument of the +erudition of those times is, that they played on instruments +before the shrines of their Gods, and at the entertainments +of their magistrates; but that custom was peculiar to the +sect I am speaking of. To me, indeed, that poem of Appius +Cæcus, which Panætius commends so much in a certain letter +of his which is addressed to Quintus Tubero, has all the +marks of a Pythagorean author. We have many things +derived from the Pythagoreans in our customs; which I pass +over, that we may not seem to have learned that elsewhere +which we look upon ourselves as the inventors of. But to +return to our purpose. How many great poets as well as +orators have sprung up among us! and in what a short +time! so that it is evident that our people could arrive at +any learning as soon as they had an inclination for it. But +of other studies I shall speak elsewhere if there is occasion, as +I have already often done. +</p> + +<p> +III. The study of philosophy is certainly of long standing +with us; but yet I do not find that I can give you the names +of any philosopher before the age of Lælius and Scipio: in whose +younger days we find that Diogenes the Stoic, and Carneades +the Academic, were sent as ambassadors by the Athenians to +our senate. And as these had never been concerned in public +affairs, and one of them was a Cyrenean, the other a Babylonian, +they certainly would never have been forced from their +studies, nor chosen for that employment, unless the study of +philosophy had been in vogue with some of the great men at +that time; who, though they might employ their pens on +other subjects, some on civil law, others on oratory, others on +the history of former times, yet promoted this most extensive +of all arts, the principle of living well, even more by their +life than by their writings. So that of that true and elegant +<pb n='401'/><anchor id='Pg401'/> +philosophy, (which was derived from Socrates, and is still +preserved by the Peripatetics, and by the Stoics, though they +express themselves differently in their disputes with the +Academics,) there are few or no Latin records; whether this +proceeds from the importance of the thing itself, or from +men's being otherwise employed, or from their concluding +that the capacity of the people was not equal to the apprehension +of them. But, during this silence, C. Amafinius +arose and took upon himself to speak; on the publishing of +whose writings the people were moved, and enlisted themselves +chiefly under this sect, either because the doctrine was +more easily understood, or because they were invited thereto +by the pleasing thoughts of amusement, or that, because +there was nothing better, they laid hold of what was offered +them. And after Amafinius, when many of the same sentiments +had written much about them, the Pythagoreans spread +over all Italy: but that these doctrines should be so easily +understood and approved of by the unlearned, is a great +proof that they were not written with any great subtlety, +and they think their establishment to be owing to this. +</p> + +<p> +IV. But let every one defend his own opinion, for every +one is at liberty to choose what he likes; I shall keep to my +old custom; and being under no restraint from the laws of +any particular school, which in philosophy every one must +necessarily confine himself to, I shall always inquire what +has the most probability in every question, and this system, +which I have often practised on other occasions, I have +adhered closely to in my Tusculan Disputations. Therefore, +as I have acquainted you with the disputations of the three +former days, this book shall conclude the discussion of the +fourth day. When we had come down into the Academy, as +we had done the former days, the business was carried on thus. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Let any one say, who pleases, what he would wish to +have discussed. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I do not think a wise man can possibly be free from +every perturbation of mind. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> He seemed by yesterday's discourse to be free from +grief; unless you agreed with us only to avoid taking up +time. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Not at all on that account, for I was extremely satisfied +with your discourse. +</p> + +<pb n='402'/><anchor id='Pg402'/> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> You do not think, then, that a wise man is subject to +grief? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> No, by no means. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> But if that cannot disorder the mind of a wise man, +nothing else can. For what? can such a man be disturbed +by fear? Fear proceeds from the same things when absent, +which occasion grief when present. Take away grief then, +and you remove fear. +</p> + +<p> +The two remaining perturbations are, a joy elate above +measure, and lust; and, if a wise man is not subject to these, +his mind will be always at rest. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I am entirely of that opinion. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Which, then, shall we do? shall I immediately crowd +all my sails? or shall I make use of my oars, as if I were just +endeavouring to get clear of the harbour? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> What is it that you mean; for I do not exactly comprehend +you? +</p> + +<p> +V. <hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Because, Chrysippus and the Stoics, when they +discuss the perturbations of the mind, make great part of +their debate to consist in definitions and distinctions; while +they employ but few words on the subject of curing the +mind, and preventing it from being disordered. Whereas +the Peripatetics bring a great many things to promote the +cure of it, but have no regard to their thorny partitions and +definitions.—My question, then, was, whether I should instantly +unfold the sails of my eloquence, or be content for a while to +make less way with the oars of logic? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Let it be so; for by the employment of both these +means the subject of our inquiry will be more thoroughly +discussed. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> It is certainly the better way; and should anything +be too obscure, you may examine that afterwards. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I will do so; but those very obscure points, you will, +as usual, deliver with more clearness than the Greeks. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I will indeed endeavour to do so; but it well requires great +attention, lest, by losing one word, the whole should escape +you. What the Greeks call πάθη, we choose to name perturbations +(or disorders) rather than diseases; in explaining +which, I shall follow, first, that very old description of Pythagoras, +and afterwards that of Plato; for they both divide the +mind into two parts, and make one of these partake of reason, +<pb n='403'/><anchor id='Pg403'/> +and the other they represent without it. In that which partakes +of reason they place tranquillity, that is to say, a placid +and undisturbed constancy; to the other they assign the +turbid motions of anger and desire, which are contrary and +opposite to reason. Let this, then, be our principle, the spring +of all our reasonings. But notwithstanding, I shall use the +partitions and definitions of the Stoics in describing these +perturbations; who seem to me to have shown very great +acuteness on this question. +</p> + +<p> +VI. Zeno's definition, then, is this: <q>a perturbation</q> +(which he calls a πάθος) <q>is a commotion of the mind repugnant +to reason, and against nature.</q> Some of them define +it even more briefly, saying that a perturbation is a somewhat +too vehement appetite; but by too vehement they mean an +appetite that recedes further from the constancy of nature. +But they would have the divisions of perturbations to arise +from two imagined goods, and from two imagined evils; and +thus they become four: from the good proceed lust and joy—joy +having reference to some present good, and lust to some +future one. They suppose fear and grief to proceed from +evils: fear from something future,—grief from something +present; for whatever things are dreaded as approaching, +always occasion grief when present. But joy and lust depend +on the opinion of good; as lust, being inflamed and provoked, +is carried on eagerly towards what has the appearance +of good; and joy is transported and exults on obtaining what +was desired: for we naturally pursue those things that have +the appearance of good, and avoid the contrary. Wherefore, +as soon as anything that has the appearance of good presents +itself, nature incites us to endeavour to obtain it. Now, +where this strong desire is consistent and founded on prudence, +it is by the Stoics called βούλησις, and the name which +we give it is volition; and this they allow to none but their +wise man, and define it thus: Volition is a reasonable desire; +but whatever is incited too violently in opposition to reason, +that is a lust, or an unbridled desire, which is discoverable in +all fools.—And, therefore, when we are affected so as to be +placed in any good condition, we are moved in two ways; for +when the mind is moved in a placid and calm motion, consistent +with reason, that is called joy; but when it exults +with a vain, wanton exultation, or immoderate joy, then that +<pb n='404'/><anchor id='Pg404'/> +feeling may be called immoderate ecstasy or transport, which +they define to be an elation of the mind without reason.—And +as we naturally desire good things, so in like manner we +naturally seek to avoid what is evil; and this avoidance of +which, if conducted in accordance with reason, is called caution; +and this the wise man alone is supposed to have: but +that caution which is not under the guidance of reason, but is +attended with a base and low dejection, is called fear.—Fear is, +therefore, caution destitute of reason. But a wise man is not +affected by any present evil; while the grief of a fool proceeds +from being affected with an imaginary evil, by which his mind +is contracted and sunk, since it is not under the dominion of +reason. This, then, is the first definition, which makes grief +to consist in a shrinking of the mind, contrary to the dictates +of reason. Thus, there are four perturbations, and but three +calm rational emotions; for grief has no exact opposite. +</p> + +<p> +VII. But they insist upon it that all perturbations depend +on opinion and judgment; therefore they define them more +strictly, in order not only the better to show how blameable +they are, but to discover how much they are in our power. +Grief, then is a recent opinion of some present evil, in which +it seems to be right that the mind should shrink and be +dejected. Joy is a recent opinion of a present good, in which +it seems to be right that the mind should be elated. Fear is +an opinion of an impending evil, which we apprehend will be +intolerable. Lust is an opinion of a good to come, which +would be of advantage were it already come, and present with +us. But however I have named the judgments and opinions +of perturbations, their meaning is, not that merely the perturbations +consist in them, but that the effects likewise of +these perturbations do so; as grief occasions a kind of painful +pricking, and fear engenders a recoil or sudden abandonment +of the mind; joy gives rise to a profuse mirth, while lust is +the parent of an unbridled habit of coveting. But that +imagination, which I have included in all the above definitions, +they would have to consist in assenting without warrantable +grounds. Now, every perturbation has many subordinate +parts annexed to it of the same kind. Grief is attended +with enviousness (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>invidentia</foreign>)—I +use that word for instruction sake, though it is not so common; because envy +(<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>invidia</foreign>) +takes in not only the person who envies, but the person too +<pb n='405'/><anchor id='Pg405'/> +who is envied;—emulation, detraction, pity, vexation, mourning, +sadness, tribulation, sorrow, lamentation, solicitude, disquiet +of mind, pain, despair, and many other similar feelings, +are so too. Under fear are comprehended sloth, shame, +terror, cowardice, fainting, confusion, astonishment.—In +pleasure they comprehend malevolence, that is pleased at +another's misfortune, delight, boastfulness, and the like. To +lust they associate anger, fury, hatred, enmity, discord, wants, +desire, and other feelings of that kind. +</p> + +<p> +But they define these in this manner: +</p> + +<p> +VIII. Enviousness (<foreign lang='la' rend='italic'>invidentia</foreign>), they say, is +a grief arising from the prosperous circumstances of another, which are in +no degree injurious to the person who envies: for where any +one grieves at the prosperity of another, by which he is +injured, such a one is not properly said to envy,—as when +Agamemnon grieves at Hector's success; but where any one, +who is in no way hurt by the prosperity of another, is in +pain at his success, such an one envies indeed. Now the +name "emulation" is taken in a double sense, so that the +same word may stand for praise and dispraise: for the imitation +of virtue is called emulation—(however, that sense of it +I shall have no occasion for here, for that carries praise with +it);—but emulation is also a term applied to grief at another's +enjoying what I desired to have, and am without. Detraction +(and I mean by that, jealousy) is a grief even at another's +enjoying what I had a great inclination for. Pity is a grief +at the misery of another who suffers wrongfully; for no one +is moved by pity at the punishment of a parricide, or of a +betrayer of his country. Vexation is a pressing grief. Mourning +is a grief at the bitter death of one who was dear to you. +Sadness is a grief attended with tears. Tribulation is a painful +grief. Sorrow, an excruciating grief. Lamentation, a +grief where we loudly bewail ourselves. Solicitude, a pensive +grief. Trouble, a continued grief. Affliction, a grief that +harasses the body. Despair, a grief that excludes all hope of +better things to come. But those feelings which are included +under fear, they define thus:—There is sloth, which is a +dread of some ensuing labour: shame and terror, which affect +the body; hence blushing attends shame; a paleness, and +tremor, and chattering of the teeth, attend terror: cowardice, +which is an apprehension of some approaching evil: dread, a +<pb n='406'/><anchor id='Pg406'/> +fear that unhinges the mind; whence comes that line of +Ennius,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Then dread discharged all wisdom from my mind: +</quote> + +<p> +fainting is the associate and constant attendant on dread: +confusion, a fear that drives away all thought: alarm, a continued fear. +</p> + +<p> +IX. The different species into which they divide pleasure +come under this description; so that malevolence is a pleasure +in the misfortunes of another, without any advantage to +yourself: delight, a pleasure that soothes the mind by agreeable +impressions on the ear. What is said of the ear, may be +applied to the sight, to the touch, smell, and taste. All feelings +of this kind are a sort of melting pleasure that dissolves +the mind. Boastfulness is a pleasure that consists in making +an appearance, and setting off yourself with insolence.—The +subordinate species of lust they define in this manner. Anger +is a lust of punishing any one who, as we imagine, has injured +us without cause. Heat is anger just forming and beginning +to exist, which the Greeks call θύμωσις. Hatred is a settled +anger. Enmity is anger waiting for an opportunity of revenge. +Discord is a sharper anger conceived deeply in the +mind and heart. Want, an insatiable lust. Regret is when +one eagerly wishes to see a person who is absent. Now here +they have a distinction; so that with them regret is a lust +conceived on hearing of certain things reported of some one, +or of many, which the Greeks call κατηγορήματα, or +predicaments; as that they are in possession of riches and honours: +but want is a lust for those very honours and riches.—But +these definers make intemperance the fountain of all these +perturbations; which is an absolute revolt from the mind +and right reason: a state so averse to all rules of reason, that +the appetites of the mind can by no means be governed and +restrained. As, therefore, temperance appeases these desires, +making them obey right reason, and maintains the +well-weighed judgments of the mind; so intemperance, which is +in opposition to this, inflames, confounds, and puts every +state of the mind into a violent motion. Thus, grief and +fear, and every other perturbation of the mind, have their +rise from intemperance. +</p> + +<p> +X. Just as distempers and sickness are bred in the body +<pb n='407'/><anchor id='Pg407'/> +from the corruption of the blood, and the too great abundance +of phlegm and bile; so the mind is deprived of its health, +and disordered with sickness, from a confusion of depraved +opinions, that are in opposition to one another. From these +perturbations arise, first, diseases, which they call νοσήματα; +and also those feelings which are in opposition to these diseases, +and which admit certain faulty distastes or loathings; then +come sicknesses, which are called ἀρρωστήματα by the Stoics; +and these two have their opposite aversions. Here the Stoics, +especially Chrysippus, give themselves unnecessary trouble to +show the analogy which the diseases of the mind have to those +of the body: but, overlooking all that they say as of little +consequence, I shall treat only of the thing itself. Let us +then understand perturbation to imply a restlessness from the +variety and confusion of contradictory opinions; and that +when this heat and disturbance of the mind is of any +standing, and has taken up its residence, as it were, in the veins +and marrow, then commence diseases and sickness, and those +aversions which are in opposition to these diseases and sicknesses. +</p> + +<p> +XI. What I say here may be distinguished in thought, +though they are in fact the same; inasmuch as they both +have their rise from lust and joy. For should money be the +object of our desire, and should we not instantly apply to +reason, as if it were a kind of Socratic medicine to heal this +desire, the evil glides into our veins, and cleaves to our bowels, +and from thence proceeds a distemper or sickness, which, when +it is of any continuance, is incurable, and the name of this +disease is covetousness. It is the same with other diseases; +as the desire of glory, a passion for women, to which the +Greeks give the name of φιλογυνεία; and thus all other diseases +and sicknesses are generated. But those feelings, which are +the contrary of these, are supposed to have fear for their +foundation, as a hatred of women, such as is displayed in the +Woman-hater of Atilius: or the hatred of the whole human +species, as Timon is reported to have done, whom they called +the Misanthrope. Of the same kind is inhospitality; and all +these diseases proceed from a certain dread of such things as +they hate and avoid. But they define sickness of mind to be +an overweening opinion, and that fixed and deeply implanted +in the heart, of something as very desirable, which is by no +<pb n='408'/><anchor id='Pg408'/> +means so. What proceeds from aversion, they define thus: a +vehement idea of something to be avoided, deeply implanted, +and inherent in our minds, when there is no reason for avoiding +it; and this kind of opinion is a deliberate belief that one +understands things of which one is wholly ignorant. Now, +sickness of the mind has all these subordinate divisions, +avarice, ambition, fondness for women, obstinacy, gluttony, +drunkenness, covetousness, and other similar vices. But +avarice is a violent opinion about money, as if it were vehemently +to be desired and sought after, which opinion is +deeply implanted and inherent in our minds; and the definition +of all the other similar feelings resembles these. But +the definitions of aversions are of this sort; inhospitality is +a vehement opinion, deeply implanted and inherent in your +mind, that you should avoid a stranger. Thus too the +hatred of women, like that felt by Hippolytus, is defined, +and the hatred of the human species like that displayed by +Timon. +</p> + +<p> +XII. But to come to the analogy of the state of body and +mind, which I shall sometimes make use of, though more +sparingly than the Stoics: some men are more inclined to +particular disorders than others. And, therefore, we say, that +some people are rheumatic, others dropsical, not because they +are so at present, but because they are often so: some are +inclined to fear, others to some other perturbation. Thus in +some there is a continual anxiety, owing to which they are +anxious; in some a hastiness of temper, which differs from +anger, as anxiety differs from anguish: for all are not anxious +who are sometimes vexed; nor are they who are anxious +always uneasy in that manner: as there is a difference betwixt +being drunk, and drunkenness; and it is one thing to be a +lover, another to be given to women. And this disposition of +particular people to particular disorders is very common: +for it relates to all perturbations; it appears in many vices, +though it has no name: some are therefore said to be envious, +malevolent, spiteful, fearful, pitiful, from a propensity to +those perturbations, not from their being always carried away +by them. Now this propensity to these particular disorders +may be called a sickness, from analogy with the body; +meaning, that is to say, nothing more than a propensity +towards sickness. But with regard to whatever is good, as +<pb n='409'/><anchor id='Pg409'/> +some are more inclined to different good qualities than others, +we may call this a facility or tendency: this tendency to evil +is a proclivity or inclination to falling: but where anything is +neither good nor bad, it may have the former name. +</p> + +<p> +XIII. Even as there may be, with respect to the body, a +disease, a sickness, and a defect; so it is with the mind. They +call that a disease where the whole body is corrupted: they +call that sickness, where a disease is attended with a weakness: +and that a defect, where the parts of the body are not +well compacted together; from whence it follows, that the +members are mis-shapen, crooked, and deformed. So that +these two, a disease and sickness, proceed from a violent concussion +and perturbation of the health of the whole body; +but a defect discovers itself, even when the body is in perfect +health. But a disease of the mind is distinguishable only in +thought from a sickness. But a viciousness is a habit or +affection discordant and inconsistent with itself through life. +Thus it happens, that in the one case a disease and sickness +may arise from a corruption of opinions; in the other case +the consequence may be inconstancy and inconsistency. For +every vice of the mind does not imply a disunion of parts; as +is the case with those who are not far from being wise men: +with them there is that affection which is inconsistent with +itself whilst it is foolish, but it is not distorted, nor depraved. +But diseases and sicknesses are parts of viciousness: but it is +a question whether perturbations are parts of the same: for +vices are permanent affections: perturbations are such as are +restless; so that they cannot be parts of permanent ones. As +there is some analogy between the nature of the body and +mind in evil, so is there in good: for the distinctions of the +body are beauty, strength, health, firmness, quickness of +motion; the same may be said of the mind. The body is +said to be in a good state, when all those things on which +health depends are consistent: the same may be said of the +mind, when its judgments and opinions are not at variance +with one another. And this union is the virtue of the mind: +which, according to some people, is temperance itself; others +make it consist in an obedience to the precepts of temperance, +and a compliance with them, not allowing it to be any distinct +species of itself: but be it one or the other, it is to be found +only in a wise man. But there is a certain soundness of +<pb n='410'/><anchor id='Pg410'/> +mind, which even a fool may have, when the perturbation of +his mind is removed by the care and management of his +physicians. And, as what is called beauty arises from an +exact proportion of the limbs, together with a certain sweetness +of complexion, so the beauty of the mind consists in an +equality and constancy of opinions and judgments, joined to a +certain firmness and stability, pursuing virtue, or containing +within itself the very essence of virtue. Besides, we give the +very same names to the faculties of the mind, as we do to the +powers of the body, the nerves, and other powers of action. +Thus the velocity of the body is called swiftness: a praise +which we ascribe to the mind, from its running over in its +thoughts so many things in so short a time. +</p> + +<p> +XIV. Herein indeed the mind and body are unlike: that +though the mind when in perfect health may be visited by +sickness, as the body may, yet the body may be disordered +without our fault, the mind cannot. For all the disorders +and perturbations of the mind proceed from a neglect of +reason; these disorders, therefore, are confined to men; the +beasts are not subject to such perturbations, though they act +sometimes as if they had reason. There is a difference, too, +betwixt ingenious and dull men; the ingenious, like the +Corinthian brass, which is long before it receives rust, are +longer before they fall into these perturbations, and are +recovered sooner: the case is different with the dull. Nor +does the mind of an ingenious man fall into every kind of +perturbation, for it never yields to any that are brutish and +savage: and some of their perturbations have at first even the +appearance of humanity, as mercy, grief, and fear. But the +sicknesses and diseases of the mind are thought to be harder +to eradicate, than those leading vices which are in opposition +to virtues: for vices may be removed, though the diseases of +the mind should continue, which diseases are not cured with +that expedition with which vices are removed. I have now +acquainted you with the arguments which the Stoics put +forth with such exactness: which they call logic, from their +close arguing; and since my discourse has got clear of these +rocks, I will proceed with the remainder of it, provided I +have been sufficiently clear in what I have already said, considering +the obscurity of the subject I have treated. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Clear enough; but should there be occasion for a more +<pb n='411'/><anchor id='Pg411'/> +exact inquiry, I shall take another opportunity of asking +you: I expect you now to hoist your sails as you just now +called them, and proceed on your course. +</p> + +<p> +XV. <hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Since I have spoken before of virtue in other +places, and shall often have occasion to speak again (for a +great many questions that relate to life and manners arise +from the spring of virtue); and since, as I say, virtue consists +in a settled and uniform affection of mind, making those persons +praiseworthy who are possessed of her; she herself also, independent +of anything else, without regard to any advantage, +must be praiseworthy; for from her proceed good inclinations, +opinions, actions, and the whole of right reason; though +virtue may be defined in few words to be right reason itself. +The opposite to this is viciousness (for so I choose to translate +what the Greeks call κακία, rather than by perverseness; for +perverseness is the name of a particular vice; but viciousness +includes all), from whence arise those perturbations, which, as +I just now said, are turbid and violent motions of the mind, +repugnant to reason, and enemies in a high degree to the +peace of the mind, and a tranquil life: for they introduce +piercing and anxious cares, and afflict and debilitate the mind +through fear; they violently inflame our hearts with exaggerated +appetite; which is in reality an impotence of mind, +utterly irreconcilable with temperance and moderation, which +we sometimes call desire, and sometimes lust; and which, +should it even attain the object of its wishes, immediately +becomes so elated, that it loses all its resolution, and knows +not what to pursue; so that he was in the right who said, +<q>that exaggerated pleasure was the very greatest of mistakes.</q> +Virtue then alone can effect the cure of these evils. +</p> + +<p> +XVI. For what is not only more miserable, but more base +and sordid, than a man afflicted, weakened, and oppressed +with grief? And little short of this misery is one who dreads +some approaching evil, and who, through faintheartedness, is +under continual suspense. The poets, to express the greatness +of this evil, imagine a stone to hang over the head of +Tantalus, as a punishment for his wickedness, his pride, and +his boasting. And this is the common punishment of folly; +for there hangs over the head of every one whose mind revolts +from reason some similar fear. And as these perturbations +of the mind, grief and fear, are of a most wasting nature; so +<pb n='412'/><anchor id='Pg412'/> +those two others, though of a more merry cast, (I mean lust, +which is always coveting something with eagerness, and +empty mirth, which is an exulting joy,) differ very little from +madness. Hence you may understand what sort of person he +is whom we call at one time moderate, at another modest or +temperate, at another constant and virtuous; while sometimes +we include all these names in the word frugality, as the +crown of all. For if that word did not include all virtues, it +would never have been proverbial to say, that a frugal man +does everything rightly; but when the Stoics apply this +saying to their wise man, they seem to exalt him too much, +and to speak of him with too much admiration. +</p> + +<p> +XVII. Whoever, then, through moderation and constancy, +is at rest in his mind, and in calm possession of himself, so as +neither to pine with care, nor be dejected with fear, nor to be +inflamed with desire, coveting something greedily, nor relaxed +by extravagant mirth,—such a man is that identical wise man +whom we are inquiring for, he is the happy man: to whom +nothing in this life seems intolerable enough to depress him; +nothing exquisite enough to transport him unduly. For +what is there in this life that can appear great to him, who +has acquainted himself with eternity, and the utmost extent +of the universe? For what is there in human knowledge, or +the short span of this life, that can appear great to a wise +man? whose mind is always so upon its guard, that nothing +can befal him which is unforeseen, nothing which is unexpected, +nothing, in short, which is new. Such a man takes so exact +a survey on all sides of him, that he always knows the proper +place and spot to live in free from all the troubles and annoyances +of life, and encounters every accident that fortune can +bring upon him with a becoming calmness. Whoever conducts +himself in this manner, will be free from grief, and from +every other perturbation: and a mind free from these feelings +renders men completely happy: whereas a mind disordered +and drawn off from right and unerring reason, loses at once, +not only its resolution, but its health.—Therefore the +thoughts and declarations of the Peripatetics are soft and +effeminate, for they say that the mind must necessarily +be agitated, but at the same time they lay down certain +bounds beyond which that agitation is not to proceed. And +do you set bounds to vice? or is it novice to disobey reason? +<pb n='413'/><anchor id='Pg413'/> +does not reason sufficiently declare, that there is no real good +which you should desire too ardently, or the possession of +which you should allow to transport you: and that there is +no evil that should be able to overwhelm you, or the suspicion +of which should distract you? and that all these things +assume too melancholy or too cheerful an appearance through +our own error? But if fools find this error lessened by time, +so that, though the cause remains the same, they are not +affected in the same manner, after some time, as they were at +first; why surely a wise man ought not to be influenced at +all by it. But what are those degrees by which we are to +limit it? Let us fix these degrees in grief, a difficult subject, +and one much canvassed.—Fannius writes that P. +Rutilius took it much to heart, that his brother was refused +the consulship: but he seems to have been too much affected +by this disappointment; for it was the occasion of his death: +he ought, therefore, to have borne it with more moderation. +But let us suppose, that whilst he was bearing this with +moderation, the death of his children had intervened; here +would have started a fresh grief, which, admitting it to be +moderate in itself, yet still must have been a great addition +to the other. Now to these let us add some acute pains of +body, the loss of his fortune, blindness, banishment; supposing, +then, each separate misfortune to occasion a separate +additional grief, the whole would be too great to be supportable. +</p> + +<p> +XVIII. The man who attempts to set bounds to vice, acts +like one who should throw himself headlong from Leucate, +persuaded that he could stop himself whenever he pleased. +Now, as that is impossible, so a perturbed and disordered +mind cannot restrain itself, and stop where it pleases. Certainly +whatever is bad in its increase, is bad in its birth: now +grief, and all other perturbations, are doubtless baneful in +their progress, and have therefore no small share of evil at +the beginning; for they go on of themselves when once they +depart from reason, for every weakness is self-indulgent, and +indiscreetly launches out, and does not know where to stop. +So that it makes no difference whether you approve of moderate +perturbations of mind, or of moderate injustice, moderate +cowardice, and moderate intemperance. For whoever prescribes +bounds to vice, admits a part of it, which, as it is odious of +<pb n='414'/><anchor id='Pg414'/> +itself, becomes the more so as it stands on slippery ground, and +being once set forward, glides on headlong, and cannot by any +means be stopped. +</p> + +<p> +XIX. Why should I say more? Why should I add that +the Peripatetics say that these perturbations, which we insist +upon it should be extirpated, are not only natural, but were +given to men by nature for a good purpose? They usually +talk in this manner. In the first place, they say much in +praise of anger; they call it the whetstone of courage, and +they say that angry men exert themselves most against an +enemy or against a bad citizen: that those reasons are of +little weight which are the motives of men who think thus, +as,—It is a just war, it becomes us to fight for our laws, our +liberties, our country; they will allow no force to these arguments +unless our courage is warmed by anger.—Nor do they +confine their argument to warriors: but their opinion is, that +no one can issue any rigid commands without some bitterness +and anger. In short, they have no notion of an orator either +accusing or even defending a client, without he is spurred on +by anger. And though this anger should not be real, still +they think his words and gestures ought to wear the appearance +of it, so that the action of the orator may excite the +anger of his hearer. And they deny that any man has ever +been seen, who does not know what it is to be angry: and +they name what we call lenity, by the bad appellation of +indolence: nor do they commend only this lust, (for anger is, +as I defined it above, the lust of revenge,) but they maintain +that kind of lust or desire to be given us by nature for very +good purposes: saying that no one can execute anything well +but what he is in earnest about. Themistocles used to walk +in the public places in the night, because he could not sleep: +and when asked the reason, his answer was, that Miltiades' +trophies kept him awake. Who has not heard how Demosthenes +used to watch; who said that it gave him pain, if any +mechanic was up in a morning at his work before him? +Lastly, they urge that some of the greatest philosophers would +never have made that progress in their studies, without some +ardent desire spurring them on.—We are informed that +Pythagoras, Democritus, and Plato, visited the remotest parts +of the world; for they thought that they ought to go whereever +anything was to be learned. Now it is not conceivable +<pb n='415'/><anchor id='Pg415'/> +that these things could be effected by anything but by the +greatest ardour of mind. +</p> + +<p> +XX. They say that even grief, which we have already said +ought to be avoided as a monstrous and fierce beast, was appointed +by nature, not without some good purpose: in order +that men should lament when they had committed a fault, well +knowing they had exposed themselves to correction, rebuke, +and ignominy. For they think that those who can bear +ignominy and infamy without pain, have acquired a complete +impunity for all sorts of crimes: for with them, reproach is +a stronger check than conscience. From whence we have +that scene in Afranius, borrowed from common life; for when +the abandoned son saith, Wretched that I am! the severe +father replies, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Let him but grieve, no matter what the cause. +</quote> + +<p> +And they say the other divisions of sorrow have their use; +that pity incites us to hasten to the assistance of others, and +to alleviate the calamities of men who have undeservedly +fallen into them: that even envy and detraction are not +without their use; as when a man sees that another person +has attained what he cannot, or observes another to be equally +successful with himself: that he who should take away fear, +would take away all industry in life; which those men exert +in the greatest degree who are afraid of the laws and of +the magistrates, who dread poverty, ignominy, death, and +pain. But while they argue thus, they allow indeed of these +feelings being retrenched, though they deny that they either +can, or should be plucked up by the roots: so that their +opinion is that mediocrity is best in everything. When they +reason in this manner, what think you? is what they say +worth attending to or not? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I think it is; I wait, therefore, to hear what you will +say in reply to them. +</p> + +<p> +XXI. <hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Perhaps I may find something to say,—but I will +make this observation first: do you take notice with what +modesty the Academics behave themselves? for they speak +plainly to the purpose. The Peripatetics are answered by +the Stoics; they have my leave to fight it out; who think +myself no otherwise concerned than to inquire for what +may seem to be most probable. Our present business is, +then, to see if we can meet with anything in this question +<pb n='416'/><anchor id='Pg416'/> +which is the probable, for beyond such approximation to +truth as that human nature cannot proceed. The definition +of a perturbation, as Zeno, I think, has rightly determined it, +is thus: That a perturbation is a commotion of the mind +against nature, in opposition to right reason; or more briefly +thus, that a perturbation is a somewhat too vehement appetite; +and when he says somewhat too vehement, he means +such as is at a greater distance from the constant course of +nature. What can I say to these definitions? the greater +part of them we have from those who dispute with sagacity +and acuteness: some of them expressions, indeed, such as the +<q>ardours of the mind,</q> and <q>the whetstones of virtue,</q> savouring +of the pomp of rhetoricians. As to the question, if a brave +man can maintain his courage without becoming angry; it may +be questioned with regard to the gladiators: though we often +observe much resolution even in them; they meet, converse, +they make objections and demands, they agree about terms, so +that they seem calm rather than angry. But let us admit a +man of the name of Placideianus, who was one of that trade, +to be in such a mind, as Lucilius relates of him, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>If for his blood you thirst, the task be mine;</l> +<l>His laurels at my feet he shall resign;</l> +<l>Not but I know, before I reach his heart,</l> +<l>First on myself a wound he will impart.</l> +<l>I hate the man; enraged I fight, and straight</l> +<l>In action we had been, but that I wait</l> +<l>Till each his sword had fitted to his hand,</l> +<l>My rage I scarce can keep within command.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +XXII. But we see Ajax in Homer advancing to meet +Hector in battle cheerfully, without any of this boisterous +wrath. For he had no sooner taken up his arms, than the +first step which he made inspired his associates with joy, his +enemies with fear: so that even Hector, as he is represented +by Homer,<note place='foot'><p>Cicero alludes +here to Il. vii. 211, which is thus translated by Pope— +</p> +<p> +His massy javelin quivering in his hand,<lb/> +He stood the bulwark of the Grecian band;<lb/> +Through every Argive heart new transport ran,<lb/> +All Troy stood trembling at the mighty man:<lb/> +E'en Hector paused, and with new doubt oppress'd,<lb/> +Felt his great heart suspended in his breast;<lb/> +'Twas vain to seek retreat, and vain to fear,<lb/> +Himself had challenged, and the foe drew near. +</p> +<p> +But Melmoth (Note on the Familiar Letters of Cicero, book ii. Let. 23) +rightly accuses Cicero of having misunderstood Homer, who <q>by no +means represents Hector as being thus totally dismayed at the approach +of his adversary; and indeed it would have been inconsistent +with the general character of that hero to have described him under +such circumstances of terror.</q> +</p> +<p> +Τὸν δὲ καὶ Ἀργεῖοι μέγ᾽ ἐγήθεον εἰσορόωντες,<lb/> +Τρωὰς δὲ τρόμος αἶνος ὑπήλυθε γυῖα ἕκαστον,<lb/> +Ἕκτορι δ᾽ αὐτῷ θυμὸς ἐνὶ στήθεσσι πάτασσεν. +</p> +<p> +But there is a great difference, as Dr. Clarke remarks, between θυμὸς +ἐνὶ στήθεσσι πάτασσεν and καρδίη ἔξω στηθέων ἔθρωσκεν, or τρόμος αἶνος +ὑπήλυθε γυῖα.—<hi rend='italic'>The Trojans</hi>, says Homer, +<emph>trembled</emph> at the sight of Ajax, +and even Hector himself felt some emotion in his breast. +</p></note> trembling condemned himself for having challenged +<pb n='417'/><anchor id='Pg417'/> +him to fight. Yet these heroes conversed together, +calmly and quietly, before they engaged; nor did they show +any anger or outrageous behaviour during the combat. Nor +do I imagine that Torquatus, the first who obtained this surname, +was in a rage when he plundered the Gaul of his +collar: or that Marcellus' courage at Clastidium was only +owing to his anger. I could almost swear, that Africanus, +with whom we are better acquainted, from our recollection of +him being more recent, was no ways inflamed by anger, when +he covered Alienus Pelignus with his shield, and drove his +sword into the enemy's breast. There may be some doubt +of L. Brutus, whether he was not influenced by extraordinary +hatred of the tyrant, so as to attack Aruns with more +than usual rashness; for I observe that they mutually killed +each other in close fight. Why, then, do you call in the +assistance of anger? would courage, unless it began to get +furious, lose its energy? What? do you imagine that Hercules, +whom the very courage which you would try to +represent as anger raised to heaven, was angry when he +engaged the Erymanthian boar, or the Nemean lion? or was +Theseus in a passion when he seized on the horns of the +Marathonian bull? Take care how you make courage to +depend in the least on rage. For anger is altogether irrational, +and that is not courage which is void of reason. +</p> + +<p> +XXIII. We ought to hold all things here in contempt; +death is to be looked on with indifference; pains and labours +must be considered as easily supportable. And when these +sentiments are established on judgment and conviction, then +will that stout and firm courage take place: unless you attribute +to anger whatever is done with vehemence, alacrity, and +<pb n='418'/><anchor id='Pg418'/> +spirit. To me, indeed, that very Scipio<note place='foot'>Cicero +means Scipio Nasica, who in the riots consequent on the re-election of +Tiberius Gracchus to the tribunate, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 133, having called +in vain on the consul, Mucius Scævola, to save the republic, attacked +Gracchus himself, who was slain in the tumult.</note> who was chief priest, +that favourer of the saying of the Stoics, <q>that no private +man could be a wise man,</q> does not seem to be angry with +Tiberius Gracchus, even when he left the consul in a hesitating +frame of mind, and, though a private man himself, commanded, +with the authority of a consul, that all who meant +well to the republic should follow him. I do not know +whether I have done anything in the republic that has the +appearance of courage; but if I have, I certainly did not do +it in wrath. Doth anything come nearer madness than +anger? And indeed Ennius has well defined it as the beginning +of madness. The changing colour, the alteration of our +voice, the look of our eyes, our manner of fetching our breath, +the little command we have over our words and actions, how +little do all these things indicate a sound mind! What can +make a worse appearance than Homer's Achilles, or Agamemnon, +during the quarrel. And as to Ajax, anger drove +him into downright madness, and was the occasion of his +death. Courage, therefore, does not want the assistance of +anger; it is sufficiently provided, armed, and prepared of +itself. We may as well say that drunkenness, or madness, +are of service to courage, because those who are mad or +drunk often do a great many things with unusual vehemence. +Ajax was always brave, but still he was most brave when he +was in that state of frenzy: +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>The greatest feat that Ajax e'er achieved</l> +<l>Was, when his single arm the Greeks relieved.</l> +<l>Quitting the field; urged on by rising rage,</l> +<l>Forced the declining troops again t'engage.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Shall we say, then, that madness has its use? +</p> + +<p> +XXIV. Examine the definitions of courage: you will find +it does not require the assistance of passion. Courage is, +then, an affection of mind, that endures all things, being +itself in proper subjection to the highest of all laws; or, it +may be called a firm maintenance of judgment in supporting +or repelling everything that has a formidable appearance, or +a knowledge of what is formidable or otherwise, and maintaining +<pb n='419'/><anchor id='Pg419'/> +invariably a stable judgment of all such things, so as to +bear them, or despise them; or, in fewer words according to +Chrysippus: (for the above definitions are Sphærus's, a man of +the first ability as a layer down of definitions, as the Stoics +think: but they are all pretty much alike, they give us only +common notions, some one way, and some another.) But +what is Chrysippus's definition? Fortitude, says he, is the +knowledge of all things that are bearable: or an affection of +the mind, which bears and supports everything in obedience +to the chief law of reason, without fear. Now, though we +should attack these men in the same manner as Carneades +used to do, I fear they are the only real philosophers: for +which of these definitions is there which does not explain +that obscure and intricate notion of courage which every +man conceives within himself? And when it is thus explained, +what can a warrior, a commander, or an orator, want +more? and no one can think that they will be unable to +behave themselves courageously without anger. What? do +not even the Stoics, who maintain that all fools are mad, +make the same inferences? for, take away perturbations, +especially a hastiness of temper, and they will appear to talk +very absurdly. But what they assert is this: they say that +all fools are mad, as all dunghills stink; not that they always +do so, but stir them, and you will perceive it. And in like +manner, a warm-tempered man is not always in a passion; +but provoke him, and you will see him run mad. Now, that +very warlike anger, which is of such service in war, what is +the use of it to him when he is at home with his wife, children, +and family? Is there, then, anything that a disturbed mind +can do better than one which is calm and steady? or can +any one be angry without a perturbation of mind? Our +people, then, were in the right, who, as all vices depend on our +manners, and nothing is worse than a passionate disposition, +called angry men the only morose men.<note place='foot'>Morosus +is evidently derived from mores—<q>Morosus, mos, stubbornness, +selfwill, etc.</q>—Riddle and Arnold, Lat. Diet.</note> +</p> + +<p> +XXV. Anger is in no wise becoming in an orator, though it +is not amiss to affect it. Do you imagine that I am angry when +in pleading I use any extraordinary vehemence and sharpness? +What? when I write out my speeches after all is over +and past, am I then angry while writing? or do you think +<pb n='420'/><anchor id='Pg420'/> +Æsopus was ever angry when he acted, or Accius was so +when he wrote? Those men, indeed, act very well, but the +orator acts better than the player, provided he be really an +orator; but then they carry it on without passion, and with +a composed mind. But what wantonness is it to commend +lust? You produce Themistocles and Demosthenes; to these +you add Pythagoras, Democritus, and Plato. What, do you +then call studies lust? But these studies of the most excellent +and admirable things, such as those were which you +bring forward on all occasions, ought to be composed and +tranquil; and what kind of philosophers are they who commend +grief, than which nothing is more detestable? Afranius +has said much to this purpose— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Let him but grieve, no matter what the cause. +</quote> + +<p> +But he spoke this of a debauched and dissolute youth; but +we are inquiring into the conduct of a constant and wise +man. We may even allow a centurion, or standard-bearer, +to be angry, or any others, whom, not to explain too far the +mysteries of the rhetoricians, I shall not mention here; for +to touch the passions, where reason cannot be come at, may +have its use; but my inquiry, as I often repeat, is about a +wise man. +</p> + +<p> +XXVI. But even envy, detraction, pity, have their use. +Why should you pity rather than assist, if it is in your +power to do so? Is it because you cannot be liberal without +pity? We should not take sorrows on ourselves upon +another's account; but we ought to relieve others of their +grief if we can. But to detract from another's reputation, +or to rival him with that vicious emulation, which resembles +an enmity, of what use can that conduct be? Now envy +implies being uneasy at another's good because one does +not enjoy it oneself; but detraction is the being uneasy at +another's good, merely because he enjoys it. How can it be +right that you should voluntarily grieve, rather than take the +trouble of acquiring what you want to have; for it is madness +in the highest degree to desire to be the only one that has +any particular happiness. But who can with correctness +speak in praise of a mediocrity of evils? Can any one in +whom there is lust or desire, be otherwise than libidinous or +desirous? or can a man who is occupied by anger avoid being +angry? or can one who is exposed to any vexation escape +<pb n='421'/><anchor id='Pg421'/> +being vexed? or if he is under the influence of fear, must he +not be fearful? Do we look, then, on the libidinous, the +angry, the anxious, and the timid man, as persons of wisdom, +of excellence? of which I could speak very copiously and +diffusely, but I wish to be as concise as possible. And so +I will merely say that wisdom is an acquaintance with all +divine and human affairs, and a knowledge of the cause of +everything. Hence it is, that it imitates what is divine, and +looks upon all human concerns as inferior to virtue. Did +you, then, say that it was your opinion that such a man was +as naturally liable to perturbation as the sea is exposed to +winds? What is there that can discompose such gravity +and constancy? Anything sudden or unforeseen? How +can anything of this kind befal one, to whom nothing is +sudden and unforeseen that can happen to man? Now, as to +their saying that redundancies should be pared off, and only +what is natural remain; what, I pray you, can be natural, +which may be too exuberant? +</p> + +<p> +XXVII. All these assertions proceed from the roots of +errors, which must be entirely plucked up and destroyed, +not pared and amputated. But as I suspect that your +inquiry is not so much respecting the wise man as concerning +yourself, (for you allow that he is free from all perturbations, +and you would willingly be so too yourself,) let us see what +remedies there are which may be applied by philosophy to +the diseases of the mind. There is certainly some remedy; +nor has nature been so unkind to the human race, as to have +discovered so many things salutary to the body, and none +which are medicinal to the mind. She has even been kinder +to the mind than to the body; inasmuch as you must seek +abroad for the assistance which the body requires; while +the mind has all that it requires within itself. But in +proportion as the excellency of the mind is of a higher and +more divine nature, the more diligence does it require; and +therefore reason, when it is well applied, discovers what is +best, but when it is neglected it becomes involved in many +errors. I shall apply, then, all my discourse to you; for +though you pretend to be inquiring about the wise man, your +inquiry may possibly be about yourself. Various, then, are +the cures of those perturbations which I have expounded, for +every disorder is not to be appeased the same way;—one +<pb n='422'/><anchor id='Pg422'/> +medicine must be applied to the man who mourns, another +to the pitiful, another to the person who envies, for there is +this difference to be maintained in all the four perturbations; +we are to consider whether our discourse had better be +directed to perturbations in general, which are a contempt of +reason, or a somewhat too vehement appetite; or whether +it would be better applied to particular descriptions, as, for +instance, to fear, lust, and the rest, and whether it appears +preferable to endeavour to remove that which has occasioned +the grief, or rather to attempt wholly to eradicate every kind +of grief. As, should any one grieve that he is poor, the +question is, would you maintain poverty to be no evil, or +would you contend that a man ought not to grieve at anything? +Certainly this last is the best course; for should +you not convince him with regard to poverty, you must +allow him to grieve; but if you remove grief by particular +arguments, such as I used yesterday, the evil of poverty is in +some manner removed. +</p> + +<p> +XXVIII. But any perturbation of the mind of this sort +may be, as it were, wiped away by this method of appeasing +the mind, if you succeed in showing that there is no good in +that which has given rise to joy and lust, nor any evil in +that which has occasioned fear or grief. But certainly the +most effectual cure is to be achieved by showing that all +perturbations are of themselves vicious, and have nothing +natural or necessary in them. As we see grief itself is easily +softened when we charge those who grieve with weakness +and an effeminate mind; or when we commend the gravity +and constancy of those who bear calmly whatever befals them +here, as accidents to which all men are liable; and, indeed, +this is generally the feeling of those who look on these as real +evils, but yet think they should be borne with resignation. +One imagines pleasure to be a good, another money; and yet +the one may be called off from intemperance, the other from +covetousness. The other method and address, which, at the +same time that it removes the false opinion, withdraws the +disorder, has more subtilty in it; but it seldom succeeds, +and is not applicable to vulgar minds, for there are some +diseases which that medicine can by no means remove. For, +should any one be uneasy because he is without virtue, +without courage, destitute of a sense of duty, or honesty; his +<pb n='423'/><anchor id='Pg423'/> +anxiety proceeds from a real evil, and yet we must apply +another method of cure to him; and such a one as all the +philosophers, however they may differ about other things, +agree in. For they must necessarily agree in this, that commotions +of the mind in opposition to right reason are vicious; +and that even admitting those things to be evils, which occasion +fear or grief, and those to be goods which provoke desire +or joy, yet that very commotion itself is vicious; for we +mean by the expressions magnanimous and brave, one who is +resolute, sedate, grave, and superior to everything in this life: +but one who either grieves, or fears, or covets, or is transported +with passion, cannot come under that denomination; +for these things are consistent only with those who look on +the things of this world as things with which their minds are +unequal to contend. +</p> + +<p> +XXIX. Wherefore, as I before said, the philosophers have +all one method of cure, so that we need say nothing about +what sort of thing that is which disturbs the mind, but we +must speak only concerning the perturbation itself. Thus, +first, with regard to desire itself, when the business is only to +remove that the inquiry is not to be, whether that thing be +good or evil which provokes lust, but the lust itself is to be +removed; so that whether whatever is honest is the chief +good, or whether it consists in pleasure, or in both these +things together, or in the other three kinds of goods, yet +should there be in any one too vehement an appetite for even +virtue itself, the whole discourse should be directed to the +deterring him from that vehemence. But human nature, +when placed in a conspicuous point of view, gives us every +argument for appeasing the mind, and to make this the more +distinct, the laws and conditions of life should be explained in +our discourse. Therefore, it was not without reason that +Socrates is reported, when Euripides was exhibiting his play +called Orestes, to have repeated the first three verses of that +tragedy— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>What tragic story men can mournful tell,</l> +<l>Whate'er from fate or from the gods befel,</l> +<l>That human nature can support——<note place='foot'><p>In +the original they run thus:— +</p> +<p> +Οὔκ ἐστιν οὐδὲν δεινὸν ὧδ᾽ εἰπεῖν ἔπος,<lb/> +Οὐδὲ πάθος, οὐδὲ ξυμφορὰ θεήλατος<lb/> +Ἦς οὐκ ἄν ἄροιτ᾽ ἄχθος ἀνθρώπου φύσις. +</p></note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<pb n='424'/><anchor id='Pg424'/> + +<p> +But, in order to persuade those to whom any misfortune has +happened, that they can and ought to bear it, it is very +useful to set before them an enumeration of other persons +who have borne similar calamities. Indeed, the method of +appeasing grief was explained in my dispute of yesterday, +and in my book on Consolation, which I wrote in the midst +of my own grief; for I was not myself so wise a man as to +be insensible to grief, and I used this, notwithstanding Chrysippus's +advice to the contrary, who is against applying a +medicine to the agitations of the mind while they are fresh; +but I did it, and committed a violence on nature, that the +greatness of my grief might give way to the greatness of the +medicine. +</p> + +<p> +XXX. But fear borders upon grief, of which I have already +said enough; but I must say a little more on that. Now, as +grief proceeds from what is present, so does fear from future +evil; so that some have said that fear is a certain part of +grief: others have called fear the harbinger of trouble, which, +as it were, introduces the ensuing evil. Now, the reasons +that make what is present supportable, make what is to come +very contemptible; for, with regard to both, we should take +care to do nothing low or grovelling, soft or effeminate, mean +or abject. But, notwithstanding we should speak of the inconstancy, +imbecility, and levity of fear itself, yet it is of very +great service to speak contemptuously of those very things of +which we are afraid. So that it fell out very well, whether it +was by accident or design, that I disputed the first and second +day on death and pain,—the two things that are the most +dreaded: now, if what I then said was approved of, we are +in a great degree freed from fear. And this is sufficient, as +far as regards the opinion of evils. +</p> + +<p> +XXXI. Proceed we now to what are goods—that is to say, +to joy and desire. To me, indeed, one thing alone seems to +embrace the question of all that relates to the perturbations +of the mind—the fact, namely, that all perturbations are in +our own power; that they are taken up upon opinion, and +are voluntary. This error, then, must be got rid of; this +opinion must be removed: and, as with regard to imagined +evils, we are to make them more supportable, so with respect +to goods, we are to lessen the violent effects of those things +which are called great and joyous. But one thing is to be +<pb n='425'/><anchor id='Pg425'/> +observed, that equally relates both to good and evil: that, +should it be difficult to persuade any one that none of those +things which disturb the mind are to be looked on as good or +evil, yet a different cure is to be applied to different feelings; +and the malevolent person is to be corrected by one way of +reasoning, the lover by another, the anxious man by another, +and the fearful by another: and it would be easy for any one +who pursues the best approved method of reasoning, with +regard to good and evil, to maintain that no fool can be +affected with joy, as he never can have anything good. But, +at present, my discourse proceeds upon the common received +notions. Let, then, honours, riches, pleasures, and the rest, +be the very good things which they are imagined to be; yet +a too elevated and exulting joy on the possession of them is +unbecoming; just as though it might be allowable to laugh, +to giggle would be indecent. Thus, a mind enlarged by joy +is as blameable as a contraction of it by grief; and eager +longing is a sign of as much levity in desiring as immoderate +joy is in possessing; and, as those who are too dejected are said +to be effeminate, so they who are too elated with joy are properly +called volatile; and as feeling envy is a part of grief, and +the being pleased with another's misfortune is a kind of joy +both these feelings are usually corrected by showing the wildness +and insensibility of them: and as it becomes a man to be +cautious, but it is unbecoming in him to be fearful; so to be +pleased is proper, but to be joyful improper. I have, in order +that I might be the better understood, distinguished pleasure +from joy. I have already said above, that a contraction of +the mind can never be right, but that an elation of it may; +for the joy of Hector in Nævius is one thing,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>'Tis joy indeed to hear my praises sung</l> +<l>By you, who are the theme of honour's tongue:</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +but that of the character in Trabea another:—<q>The kind +procuress, allured by my money, will observe my nod, will +watch my desires, and study my will. If I but move the +door with my little finger, instantly it flies open; and if +Chrysis should unexpectedly discover me, she will run with +joy to meet me, and throw herself into my arms.</q> +</p> + +<p> +Now he will tell you how excellent he thinks this:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Not even fortune herself is so fortunate. +</quote> + +<pb n='426'/><anchor id='Pg426'/> + +<p> +XXXII. Any one who attends the least to the subject will +be convinced how unbecoming this joy is. And as they are +very shameful who are immoderately delighted with the +enjoyment of venereal pleasures, so are they very scandalous +who lust vehemently after them. And all that which is commonly +called love (and, believe me, I can find out no other +name to call it by) is of such a trivial nature that nothing, I +think, is to be compared to it: of which Cæcilius says— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>I hold the man of every sense bereaved,</l> +<l>Who grants not Love to be of Gods the chief:</l> +<l>Whose mighty power whate'er is good effects,</l> +<l>Who gives to each his beauty and defects:</l> +<l>Hence, health and sickness; wit and folly, hence,</l> +<l>The God that love and hatred doth dispense!</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +An excellent corrector of life this same poetry, which thinks +that love, the promoter of debauchery and vanity, should +have a place in the council of the Gods! I am speaking of +comedy, which could not subsist at all without our approving +of these debaucheries. But what said that chief of the Argonauts +in tragedy?— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +My life I owe to honour less than love +</quote> + +<p> +What, then, are we to say of this love of Medea?—what a +train of miseries did it occasion! and yet the same woman +has the assurance to say to her father, in another poet, that +she had a husband— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Dearer by love than ever fathers were. +</quote> + +<p> +XXXIII. However, we may allow the poets to trifle, in +whose fables we see Jupiter himself engaged in these debaucheries: +but let us apply to the masters of virtue,—the +philosophers who deny love to be anything carnal; and in +this they differ from Epicurus, who, I think, is not much +mistaken. For what is that lore of friendship? How comes +it that no one is in love with a deformed young man, or a +handsome old one? I am of opinion that this love of men +had its rise from the Gymnastics of the Greeks, where these +kinds of loves are admissible and permitted; therefore Ennius +spoke well:— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>The censure of this crime to those is due,</l> +<l>Who naked bodies first exposed to view.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Now, supposing them chaste, which I think is hardly possible, +they are uneasy and distressed, and the more so because +they contain and refrain themselves. But, to pass over the +<pb n='427'/><anchor id='Pg427'/> +love of women, where nature has allowed more liberty, who +can misunderstand the poets in their rape of Ganymede, or +not apprehend what Laius says, and what he desires, in +Euripides? Lastly, what have the principal poets and the +most learned men published of themselves in their poems +and songs? What doth Alcæus, who was distinguished in +his own republic for his bravery, write on the love of young +men? and as for Anacreon's poetry, it is wholly on love. But +Ibycus of Rhegium appears, from his writings, to have had +this love stronger on him than all the rest. +</p> + +<p> +XXXIV. Now we see that the loves of all these writers +were entirely libidinous. There have arisen also some amongst +us philosophers (and Plato is at the head of them, whom +Dicæarchus blames not without reason), who have countenanced +love. The Stoics in truth say, not only that their +wise man may be a lover, but they even define love itself as +an endeavour to originate friendship out of the appearance of +beauty. Now, provided there is any one in the nature of +things without desire, without care, without a sigh,—such a +one may be a lover; for he is free from all lust: but I have +nothing to say to him, as it is lust of which I am now speaking. +But should there be any love,—as there certainly is,—which, +is but little, or perhaps not at all, short of madness, +such as his is in the Leucadia,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Should there be any God whose care I am: +</quote> + +<p> +it is incumbent on all the Gods to see that he enjoys his +amorous pleasure. +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Wretch that I am! +</quote> + +<p> +Nothing is more true, and he says very appropriately— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +What, are you sane, who at this rate lament? +</quote> + +<p> +He seems even to his friends to be out of his senses: then how +tragical he becomes! +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Thy aid, divine Apollo, I implore,</l> +<l>And thine, dread ruler of the wat'ry store!</l> +<l>Oh! all ye winds, assist me!</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +He thinks that the whole world ought to apply itself to help +his love: he excludes Venus alone as unkind to him. +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Thy aid, O Venus, why should I invoke? +</quote> + +<p> +He thinks Venus too much employed in her own lust, to have +regard to anything else, as if he himself had not said and +committed these shameful things from lust. +</p> + +<pb n='428'/><anchor id='Pg428'/> + +<p> +XXXV. Now the cure for one who is affected in this manner, +is to show, how light, how contemptible, how very trifling +he is in what he desires; how he may turn his affections to +another object, or accomplish his desires by some other means; +or else to persuade him that he may entirely disregard it; +sometimes he is to be led away to objects of another kind, to +study, business, or other different engagements and concerns: +very often the cure is effected by change of place, as sick +people, that have not recovered their strength, are benefited +by change of air. Some people think an old love may be +driven out by a new one, as one nail drives out another: but +above all things the man thus afflicted should be advised +what madness love is: for of all the perturbations of the +mind, there is not one which is more vehement; for, (without +charging it with rapes, debaucheries, adultery, or even incest, +the baseness of any of these being very blameable; not, I say, +to mention these,) the very perturbation of the mind in love +is base of itself, for, to pass over all its acts of downright madness, +what weakness do not those very things which are +looked upon as indifferent argue? +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Affronts and jealousies, jars, squabbles, wars,</l> +<l>Then peace again.—The man who seeks to fix</l> +<l>These restless feelings, and to subjugate</l> +<l>Them to some regular law, is just as wise</l> +<l>As one who'd try to lay down rules by which</l> +<l>Men should go mad.<note place='foot'>This +passage is from the Eunuch of Terence, Act i. sc. 1, 14.</note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Now is not this inconstancy and mutability of mind enough +to deter any one by its own deformity? We are to demonstrate, +as was said of every perturbation, that there are no +such feelings which do not consist entirely of opinion and +judgment, and are not owing to ourselves. For if love were +natural, all would be in love, and always so, and all love the +same object; nor would one be deterred by shame, another +by reflection, another by satiety. +</p> + +<p> +XXXVI. Anger, too, when it disturbs the mind any time, +leaves no room to doubt its being madness: by the instigation +of which, we see such contention as this between brothers: +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Where was there ever impudence like thine?</l> +<l>Who on thy malice ever could refine?<note place='foot'>These +verses are from the Atreus of Accius.</note></l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<pb n='429'/><anchor id='Pg429'/> + +<p> +You know what follows: for abuses are thrown out by these +brothers, with great bitterness, in every other verse: so that +you may easily know them for the sons of Atreus, of that +Atreus who invented a new punishment for his brother: +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>I who his cruel heart to gall am bent,</l> +<l>Some new, unheard-of torment must invent.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +Now what were these inventions? Hear Thyestes. +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>My impious brother fain would have me eat</l> +<l>My children, and thus serves them up for meat.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +To what length now will not anger go? even as far as madness. +Therefore we say properly enough, that angry men +have given up their power, that is, they are out of the power +of advice, reason, and understanding: for these ought to have +power over the whole mind. Now you should put those out +of the way, whom they endeavour to attack, till they have +recollected themselves; but what does recollection here imply, +but getting together again the dispersed parts of their mind +into their proper place? or else you must beg and entreat them, +if they have the means of revenge, to defer it to another +opportunity, till their anger cools. But the expression of +cooling implies, certainly, that there was a heat raised in their +minds in opposition to reason: from which consideration that +saying of Archytas is commended: who being somewhat provoked +at his steward, <q>How would I have treated you,</q> said +he, <q>if I had not been in a passion?</q> +</p> + +<p> +XXXVII. Where, then, are they who say that anger has its +use? Can madness be of any use? But still it is natural. +Can anything be natural that is against reason? or how is it, +if anger is natural, that one person is more inclined to anger +than another? or that the lust of revenge should cease before +it has revenged itself? or that any one should repent of what +he had done in a passion? as we see that Alexander the +king did, who could scarcely keep his hands from himself, +when he had killed his favourite Clytus: so great was his +compunction! Now who, that is acquainted with these +instances, can doubt that this motion of the mind is altogether +in opinion and voluntary? for who can doubt that +disorders of the mind, such as covetousness, and a desire of +glory, arise from a great estimation of those things, by which +the mind is disordered? from whence we may understand, +that every perturbation of the mind is founded in opinion. +</p> + +<pb n='430'/><anchor id='Pg430'/> + +<p> +And if boldness, that is to say, a firm assurance of mind, is a +kind of knowledge and serious opinion, not hastily taken up: +then diffidence is a fear of an expected and impending evil: +and if hope is an expectation of good, fear must of course be +an expectation of evil. Thus fear and other perturbations +are evils. Therefore as constancy proceeds from knowledge, +so does perturbation from error. Now they who are said to +be naturally inclined to anger, or to pity, or to envy, or to +any feeling of this kind; their minds are constitutionally, as +it were, in bad health, yet they are curable, as the disposition +of Socrates is said to have been; for when Zopyrus, who professed +to know the character of every one from his person, +had heaped a great many vices on him in a public assembly, +he was laughed at by others, who could perceive no such vices +in Socrates; but Socrates kept him in countenance, by declaring +that such vices were natural to him, but that he had got +the better of them by his reason. Therefore, as any one who +has the appearance of the best constitution, may yet appear +to be naturally rather inclined to some particular disorder, so +different minds may be more particularly inclined to different +diseases. But as to those men who are said to be vicious, not +by nature, but their own fault; their vices proceed from +wrong opinions of good and bad things, so that one is more +prone than another to different motions and perturbations. +But, just as it is in the case of the body, an inveterate disease +is harder to be got rid of than a sudden disorder; and it is +more easy to cure a fresh tumour in the eyes, than to remove +a defluxion of any continuance. +</p> + +<p> +XXXVIII. But as the cause of perturbations is now discovered, +for all of them arise from the judgment or opinion, +or volition, I shall put an end to this discourse. But we +ought to be assured, since the boundaries of good and evil are +now discovered, as far as they are discoverable by man, that +nothing can be desired of philosophy greater, or more useful, +than the discussions which we have held these four days. +For besides instilling a contempt of death, and relieving pain +so as to enable men to bear it; we have added the appeasing +of grief, than which there is no greater evil to man. For +though every perturbation of mind is grievous, and differs +but little from madness: yet we are used to say of others, +when they are under any perturbation, as of fear, joy, or +<pb n='431'/><anchor id='Pg431'/> +desire, that they are agitated and disturbed; but of those who +give themselves up to grief, that they are miserable, afflicted, +wretched, unhappy. So that it doth not seem to be by +accident, but with reason proposed by you, that I should discuss +grief, and the other perturbations separately; for there +lies the spring and head of all our miseries: but the cure of +grief, and of other disorders, is one and the same, in that they +are all voluntary, and founded on opinion; we take them +on ourselves because it seems right so to do. Philosophy +undertakes to eradicate this error, as the root of all our evils: +let us therefore surrender ourselves to be instructed by it, and +suffer ourselves to be cured; for whilst these evils have possession +of us, we not only cannot be happy, but cannot be +right in our minds. We must either deny that reason can +effect anything, while, on the other hand, nothing can be done +right without reason; or else, since philosophy depends on +the deductions of reason, we must seek from her, if we would +be good or happy, every help and assistance for living well +and happily. +</p> + +</div> + +<div> +<index index='toc'/> +<index index='pdf'/> +<head>Book V. Whether Virtue Alone Be Sufficient For A Happy Life.</head> + +<p> +I. This fifth day, Brutus, shall put an end to our Tusculan +Disputations: on which day we discussed your favourite +subject. For I perceive from that book which you wrote for +me, with the greatest accuracy, as well as from your frequent +conversation, that you are clearly of this opinion, that virtue +is of itself sufficient for a happy life: and though it may be +difficult to prove this, on account of the many various strokes +of fortune, yet it is a truth of such a nature, that we should +endeavour to facilitate the proof of it. For among all the +topics of philosophy, there is not one of more dignity or importance. +For as the first philosophers must have had some +inducement, to neglect everything for the search of the best +state of life: surely, the inducement must have been the +hope of living happily, which impelled them to devote so +<pb n='432'/><anchor id='Pg432'/> +much care and pains to that study. Now, if virtue was discovered +and carried to perfection by them; and if virtue is a +sufficient security for a happy life: who can avoid thinking +the work of philosophising excellently recommended by them, +and undertaken by me? But if virtue, as being subject to +such various and uncertain accidents, were but the slave of +fortune, and were not of sufficient ability to support herself; +I am afraid that it would seem desirable rather to offer up +prayers than to rely on our own confidence in virtue, as the +foundation for our hope of a happy life. And, indeed, when I +reflect on those troubles, with which I have been so severely +exercised by fortune, I begin to distrust this opinion; and +sometimes even to dread the weakness and frailty of human +nature, for I am afraid lest, when nature had given us infirm +bodies, and had joined to them incurable diseases, and intolerable +pains, she perhaps also gave us minds participating +in these bodily pains, and harassed also with troubles +and uneasinesses, peculiarly their own. But here I correct +myself, for forming my judgment of the power of virtue +more from the weakness of others, or of myself perhaps, than +from virtue itself: for she herself (provided there is such a +thing as virtue, and your uncle Brutus has removed all doubt +of it) has everything that can befal mankind in subjection to +her; and by disregarding such things, she is far removed from +being at all concerned at human accidents; and, being free +from every imperfection, she thinks that nothing which is +external to herself can concern her. But we, who increase +every approaching evil by our fear, and every present one by +our grief, choose rather to condemn the nature of things, than +our own errors. +</p> + +<p> +II. But the amendment of this fault, and of all our other +vices and offences, is to be sought for in philosophy: and as +my own inclination and desire led me, from my earliest youth +upwards, to seek her protection; so, under my present misfortunes, +I have had recourse to the same port from whence I +set out, after having been tossed by a violent tempest. O +Philosophy, thou guide of life! thou discoverer of virtue, +and expeller of vices! what had not only I myself, but the +whole life of man been without you? To you it is that we +owe the origin of cities; you it was who called together the +dispersed race of men into social life; you united them +<pb n='433'/><anchor id='Pg433'/> +together, first, by placing them near one another, then by +marriages, and lastly, by the communication of speech and +languages. You have been the inventress of laws; you have +been our instructress in morals and discipline: to you we fly +for refuge; from you we implore assistance; and as I formerly +submitted to you in a great degree, so now I surrender up +myself entirely to you. For one day spent well, and agreeably +to your precepts, is preferable to an eternity of error. +Whose assistance, then, can be of more service to me than +yours, when you have bestowed on us tranquillity of life, and +removed the fear of death? But Philosophy is so far from +being praised as much as she has deserved by mankind, that +she is wholly neglected by most men, and actually evil spoken +of by many. Can any person speak ill of the parent of +life, and dare to pollute himself thus with parricide! and be +so impiously ungrateful as to accuse her, whom he ought to +reverence, even were he less able to appreciate the advantages +which he might derive from her? But this error, I imagine, +and this darkness, has spread itself over the minds of ignorant +men, from their not being able to look so far back, and from +their not imagining that those men by whom human life was +first improved, were philosophers: for though we see philosophy +to have been of long standing, yet the name must be +acknowledged to be but modern. +</p> + +<p> +III. But indeed, who can dispute the antiquity of philosophy, +either in fact or name? for it acquired this excellent +name from the ancients, by the knowledge of the origin and +causes of everything, both divine and human. Thus those +seven Σόφοι, as they were considered and called by the +Greeks, have always been esteemed and called wise men by +us: and thus Lycurgus many ages before, in whose time, +before the building of this city, Homer is said to have lived, +as well as Ulysses and Nestor in the heroic ages, are all +handed down to us by tradition as having really been what +they were called, wise men; nor would it have been said that +Atlas supported the heavens, or that Prometheus was bound +to Caucasus, nor would Cepheus, with his wife, his son-in-law, +and his daughter, have been enrolled among the constellations, +but that their more than human knowledge of the +heavenly bodies had transferred their names into an erroneous +fable. From whence, all who occupied themselves in the +<pb n='434'/><anchor id='Pg434'/> +contemplation of nature, were both considered and called, +wise men: and that name of theirs continued to the age of +Pythagoras, who is reported to have gone to Phlius, as we +find it stated by Heraclides Ponticus, a very learned man, +and a pupil of Plato, and to have discoursed very learnedly +and copiously on certain subjects, with Leon, prince of the +Phliasii—and when Leon, admiring his ingenuity and eloquence, +asked him what art he particularly professed; his +answer was, that he was acquainted with no art, but that he +was a philosopher. Leon, surprised at the novelty of the +name, inquired what he meant by the name of philosopher, +and in what philosophers differed from other men: on which +Pythagoras replied, <q>That the life of man seemed to him to +resemble those games, which were celebrated with the greatest +possible variety of sports, and the general concourse of all +Greece. For as in those games there were some persons +whose object was glory, and the honour of a crown, to be +attained by the performance of bodily exercises: so others +were led thither by the gain of buying and selling, and mere +views of profit: but there was likewise one class of persons, +and they were by far the best, whose aim was neither +applause nor profit, but who came merely as spectators +through curiosity, to observe what was done, and to see in +what manner things were carried on there. And thus, said +he, we come from another life and nature unto this one, just +as men come out of some other city, to some much frequented +mart; some being slaves to glory, others to money; and +there are some few who, taking no account of anything else, +earnestly look into the nature of things: and these men call +themselves studious of wisdom, that is, philosophers; and as +there it is the most reputable occupation of all to be a looker-on, +without making any acquisition, so in life, the contemplating +things, and acquainting oneself with them, greatly +exceeds every other pursuit of life.</q> +</p> + +<p> +IV. Nor was Pythagoras the inventor only of the name, +but he enlarged also the thing itself, and, when he came into +Italy after this conversation at Phlius, he adorned that +Greece, which is called Great Greece, both privately and +publicly, with the most excellent institutions and arts; but +of his school and system, I shall, perhaps, find another +opportunity to speak. But numbers and motions, and the +<pb n='435'/><anchor id='Pg435'/> +beginning and end of all things, were the subjects of the +ancient philosophy down to Socrates, who was a pupil of +Archelaus, who had been the disciple of Anaxagoras. These +made diligent inquiry into the magnitude of the stars, their +distances, courses, and all that relates to the heavens. But +Socrates was the first who brought down philosophy from the +heavens, placed it in cities, introduced it into families, and +obliged it to examine into life and morals, and good and evil. +And his different methods of discussing questions, together +with the variety of his topics, and the greatness of his +abilities, being immortalized by the memory and writings of +Plato, gave rise to many sects of philosophers of different +sentiments: of all which I have principally adhered to that +one which, in my opinion, Socrates himself followed; and +argue so as to conceal my own opinion, while I deliver others +from their errors, and so discover what has the greatest +appearance of probability in every question. And the custom +Carneades adopted with great copiousness and acuteness, and +I myself have often given in to it on many occasions elsewhere, +and in this manner, too, I disputed lately, in my +Tusculan villa; indeed I have sent you a book of the four +former days' discussions; but the fifth day, when we had +seated ourselves as before, what we were to dispute on was +proposed thus:— +</p> + +<p> +V. <hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I do not think virtue can possibly be sufficient for +a happy life. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> But my friend Brutus thinks so, whose judgment, with +submission, I greatly prefer to yours. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I make no doubt of it; but your regard for him is not +the business now; the question is now what is the real character +of that quality of which I have declared my opinion. I wish +you to dispute on that. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> What! do you deny that virtue can possibly be sufficient +for a happy life? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> It is what I entirely deny. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> What! is not virtue sufficient to enable us to live +as we ought, honestly, commendably, or, in fine, to live well? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Certainly sufficient. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Can you, then, help calling any one miserable, who lives +ill? or will you deny that any one who you allow lives well, +must inevitably live happily? +</p> + +<pb n='436'/><anchor id='Pg436'/> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Why may I not? for a man may be upright in his life, +honest, praiseworthy, even in the midst of torments, and +therefore live well. Provided you understand what I mean +by well; for when I say well, I mean with constancy, and +dignity, and wisdom, and courage; for a man may display all +these qualities on the rack; but yet the rack is inconsistent +with a happy life. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> What then? is your happy life left on the outside of +the prison, whilst constancy, dignity, wisdom, and the other +virtues, are surrendered up to the executioner, and bear +punishment and pain without reluctance? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> You must look out for something new, if you would do +any good. These things have very little effect on me, not +merely from their being common, but principally because, +like certain light wines, that will not bear water, these arguments +of the Stoics are pleasanter to taste than to swallow. +As when that assemblage of virtues is committed to the rack, +it raises so reverend a spectacle before our eyes, that happiness +seems to hasten on towards them, and not to suffer them +to be deserted by her. But when you take your attention off +from this picture and these images of the virtues, to the +truth and the reality, what remains without disguise is, the +question whether any one can be happy in torment? Wherefore +let us now examine that point, and not be under any +apprehensions, lest the virtues should expostulate and complain, +that they are forsaken by happiness. For if prudence +is connected with every virtue, then prudence itself discovers +this, that all good men are not therefore happy; and she +recollects many things of Marcus Atilius,<note place='foot'>This +was Marcus Atilius Regulus, the story of whose treatment +by the Carthaginians in the first Punic War is well known to +everybody.</note> Quintus Cæpio,<note place='foot'>This was +Quintus Servilius Cæpio, who, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 105, was destroyed, +with his army, by the Cimbri,—it was believed as a judgment for the +covetousness which he had displayed in the plunder of Tolosa.</note> +Marcus Aquilius;<note place='foot'>This was +Marcus Aquilius, who, in the year <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 88, was sent against +Mithridates as one of the consular legates: and being defeated, was +delivered up to the king by the inhabitants of Mitylene. Mithridates +put him to death by pouring molten gold down his throat.</note> +and prudence herself, if these representations +are more agreeable to you than the things themselves, +restrains happiness, when it is endeavouring to throw itself +<pb n='437'/><anchor id='Pg437'/> +into torments, and denies that it has any connexion with pain +and torture. +</p> + +<p> +VI. <hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I can easily bear with your behaving in this +manner, though it is not fair in you to prescribe to me, +how you would have me carry on this discussion; but I ask +you if I have effected anything or nothing in the preceding +days? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Yes, something was done, some little matter indeed. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> But if that is the case, this question is settled, and +almost put an end to. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> How so? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Because turbulent motions and violent agitations of +the mind, when it is raised and elated by a rash impulse, +getting the better of reason, leave no room for a happy life. +For who that fears either pain or death, the one of which is +always present, the other always impending, can be otherwise +than miserable? Now supposing the same person, which is +often the case, to be afraid of poverty, ignominy, infamy, or +weakness, or blindness; or lastly, slavery, which doth not +only befal individual men, but often even the most powerful +nations; now can any one under the apprehension of these +evils be happy? What shall we say of him who not only +dreads these evils as impending, but actually feels and bears +them at present? Let us unite in the same person, banishment, +mourning, the loss of children; now how can any one +who is broken down and rendered sick in body and mind by +such affliction be otherwise than very miserable indeed? +What reason again can there be, why a man should not +rightly enough be called miserable, whom we see inflamed +and raging with lust, coveting everything with an insatiable +desire, and in proportion as he derives more pleasure from +anything, thirsting the more violently after them? And as +to a man vainly elated, exulting with an empty joy, and +boasting of himself without reason, is not he so much the +more miserable in proportion as he thinks himself happier? +Therefore, as these men are miserable, so on the other hand +those are happy, who are alarmed by no fears, wasted by no +griefs, provoked by no lusts, melted by no languid pleasures +that arise from vain and exulting joys. We look on the sea +as calm when not the least breath of air disturbs its waves; +and in like manner the placid and quiet state of the mind is +<pb n='438'/><anchor id='Pg438'/> +discovered when unmoved by any perturbation. Now if +there be any one who holds the power of fortune, and everything +human, everything that can possibly befal any man, as +supportable, so as to be out of the reach of fear or anxiety; +and if such a man covets nothing, and is lifted up by no vain +joy of mind, what can prevent his being happy? and if these +are the effects of virtue, why cannot virtue itself make men +happy? +</p> + +<p> +VII. <hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> But the other of these two propositions is undeniable, +that they who are under no apprehensions, who are +no ways uneasy, who covet nothing, who are lifted up by no +vain joy, are happy: and therefore I grant you that; but as +for the other, that is not now in a fit state for discussion; for +it has been proved by your former arguments that a wise +man is free from every perturbation of mind. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Doubtless, then, the dispute is over; for the question +appears to have been entirely exhausted. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I think indeed that that is almost the case. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> But yet, that is more usually the case with the mathematicians +than philosophers. For when the geometricians +teach anything, if what they have before taught relates to +their present subject, they take that for granted which has +been already proved; and explain only what they had not +written on before. But the philosophers, whatever subject +they have in hand, get together everything that relates to it; +notwithstanding they may have dilated on it somewhere else. +Were not that the case, why should the Stoics say so much +on that question, whether virtue was abundantly sufficient to +a happy life? when it would have been answer enough, that +they had before taught, that nothing was good but what was +honourable; for as this had been proved, the consequence +must be, that virtue was sufficient to a happy life: and each +premise may be made to follow from the admission of the +other, so that if it be admitted that virtue is sufficient to +secure a happy life, it may also be inferred that nothing is +good except what is honourable. They however do not proceed +in this manner; for they would separate books about +what is honourable, and what is the chief good: and when +they have demonstrated from the one that virtue has power +enough to make life happy, yet they treat this point separately; +for everything, and especially a subject of such +<pb n='439'/><anchor id='Pg439'/> +great consequence, should be supported by arguments and +exhortations which belong to that alone. For you should +have a care how you imagine philosophy to have uttered anything +more noble, or that she has promised anything more +fruitful or of greater consequence: for, good Gods! doth she +not engage, that she will render him who submits to her +laws so accomplished as to be always armed against fortune, +and to have every assurance within himself of living well and +happily; that he shall, in short, be for ever happy. But let +us see what she will perform? In the meanwhile I look upon +it as a great thing, that she has even made such a promise. +For Xerxes, who was loaded with all the rewards and gifts of +fortune, not satisfied with his armies of horse and foot, nor +the multitude of his ships, nor his infinite treasure of gold, +offered a reward to any one who could find out a new pleasure: +and yet, when it was discovered, he was not satisfied +with it, nor can there ever be an end to lust. I wish we +could engage any one by a reward, to produce something the +better to establish us in this belief. +</p> + +<p> +VIII. <hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> I wish that indeed myself; but I want a little +information. For I allow, that in what you have stated, the +one proposition is the consequence of the other; that as, if +what is honourable be the only good, it must follow, that a +happy life is the effect of virtue: so that if a happy life consists +in virtue, nothing can be good but virtue. But your +friend Brutus, on the authority of Aristo and Antiochus, +does not see this: for he thinks the case would be the same, +even if there were anything good besides virtue. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> What then? do you imagine that I am going to argue +against Brutus? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> You may do what you please: for it is not for me to +prescribe what you shall do. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> How these things agree together shall be examined +somewhere else: for I frequently discussed that point with +Antiochus, and lately with Aristo, when, during the period of +my command as general, I was lodging with him at Athens. +For to me it seemed that no one could possibly be happy +under any evil: but a wise man might be afflicted with evil, +if there are any things arising from body or fortune, deserving +the name of evils. These things were said, which Antiochus +has inserted in his books in many places: that virtue itself +<pb n='440'/><anchor id='Pg440'/> +was sufficient to make life happy, but yet not perfectly +happy: and that many things derive their names from the +predominant portion of them, though they do not include +everything, as strength, health, riches, honour, and glory: +which qualities are determined by their kind, not their number: +thus a happy life is so called from its being so in a +great degree, even though it should fall short in some point. +To clear this up, is not absolutely necessary at present, +though it seems to be said without any great consistency: +for I cannot imagine what is wanting to one that is happy, +to make him happier, for if anything be wanting to him he +cannot be so much as happy; and as to what they say, that +everything is named and estimated from its predominant +portion, that may be admitted in some things. But when +they allow three kinds of evils; when any one is oppressed +with every imaginable evil of two kinds, being afflicted with +adverse fortune, and having at the same time his body worn +out and harassed with all sorts of pains, shall we say that +such a one is but little short of a happy life, to say nothing +about the happiest possible life? +</p> + +<p> +IX. This is the point which Theophrastus was unable to +maintain: for after he had once laid down the position, that +stripes, torments, tortures, the ruin of one's country, banishment, +the loss of children, had great influence on men's living +miserably and unhappily, he durst not any longer use any high +and lofty expressions, when he was so low and abject in his +opinion. How right he was is not the question; he certainly +was consistent. Therefore I am not for objecting to consequences +where the premises are admitted. But this most +elegant and learned of all the philosophers, is not taken to task +very severely when he asserts his three kinds of good; but +he is attacked by every one for that book which he wrote on +a happy life, in which book he has many arguments, why one +who is tortured and racked cannot be happy. For in that +book he is supposed to say, that a man who is placed on +the wheel, (that is a kind of torture in use among the +Greeks,) cannot attain to a completely happy life. He nowhere, +indeed, says so absolutely, but what he says amounts +to the same thing. Can I, then, find fault with him; after +having allowed, that pains of the body are evils, that the ruin +of a man's fortunes is an evil, if he should say that every good +<pb n='441'/><anchor id='Pg441'/> +man is not happy, when all those things which he reckons as +evils may befal a good man? The same Theophrastus is +found fault with by all the books and schools of the philosophers, +for commending that sentence in his Callisthenes: +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Fortune, not wisdom, rules the life of man. +</quote> + +<p> +They say, never did philosopher assert anything so languid. +They are right, indeed, in that: but I do not apprehend anything +could be more consistent: for if there are so many good +things that depend on the body, and so many foreign to it +that depend on chance and fortune, is it inconsistent to say +that fortune, which governs everything, both what is foreign +and what belongs to the body, has greater power than counsel. +Or would we rather imitate Epicurus? who is often excellent +in many things which he speaks, but quite indifferent how +consistent he may be, or how much to the purpose he is +speaking. He commends spare diet, and in that he speaks as +a philosopher; but it is for Socrates or Antisthenes to say so, +and not for one who confines all good to pleasure. He denies +that any one can live pleasantly unless he lives honestly, +wisely, and justly. Nothing is more dignified than this +assertion, nothing more becoming a philosopher, had he not +measured this very expression of living honestly, justly, and +wisely, by pleasure. What could be better than to assert that +fortune interferes but little with a wise man? But does he +talk thus, who after he has said that pain is the greatest evil, +or the only evil, might himself be afflicted with the sharpest +pains all over his body, even at the time he is vaunting himself +the most against fortune? And this very thing, too, +Metrodorus has said, but in better language: <q>I have anticipated +you, Fortune; I have caught you, and cut off every +access, so that you cannot possibly reach me.</q> This would be +excellent in the mouth of Aristo the Chian, or Zeno the Stoic, +who held nothing to be an evil but what was base; but for +you, Metrodorus, to anticipate the approaches of fortune, who +confine all that is good to your bowels and marrow,—for you +to say so, who define the chief good by a strong constitution +of body, and a well assured hope of its continuance,—for you +to cut off every access of fortune? Why, you may instantly +be deprived of that good. Yet the simple are taken with +these propositions, and a vast crowd is led away by such sentences +to become their followers. +</p> + +<pb n='442'/><anchor id='Pg442'/> + +<p> +X. But it is the duty of one who would argue accurately, +to consider not what is said, but what is said consistently. As +in that very opinion which we have adopted in this discussion, +namely, that every good man is always happy; it is clear +what I mean by good men: I call those both wise and good +men, who are provided and adorned with every virtue. Let +us see, then, who are to be called happy. I imagine, indeed, +that those men are to be called so, who are possessed of good +without any alloy of evil: nor is there any other notion connected +with the word that expresses happiness, but an absolute +enjoyment of good without any evil. Virtue cannot attain +this, if there is anything good besides itself: for a crowd of +evils would present themselves, if we were to allow poverty, +obscurity, humility, solitude, the loss of friends, acute pains +of the body, the loss of health, weakness, blindness, the ruin +of one's country, banishment, slavery, to be evils: for a wise +man may be afflicted by all these evils, numerous and important +as they are, and many others also may be added; for +they are brought on by chance, which may attack a wise man: +but if these things are evils, who can maintain that a wise +man is always happy, when all these evils may light on him at +the same time? I therefore do not easily agree with my +friend Brutus, nor with our common masters, nor those +ancient ones, Aristotle, Speusippus, Xenocrates, Polemon, who +reckon all that I have mentioned above as evils, and yet they +say that a wise man is always happy; nor can I allow them, +because they are charmed with this beautiful and illustrious +title, which would very well become Pythagoras, Socrates, and +Plato, to persuade my mind, that strength, health, beauty, +riches, honours, power, with the beauty of which they are +ravished, are contemptible, and that all those things which are +the opposites of these are not to be regarded. Then might +they declare openly, with a loud voice, that neither the +attacks of fortune, nor the opinion of the multitude, nor +pain, nor poverty, occasion them any apprehensions; and that +they have everything within themselves, and that there is +nothing whatever which they consider as good but what is +within their own power. Nor can I by any means allow the +same person, who falls into the vulgar opinion of good and +evil, to make use of these expressions, which can only become +a great and exalted man. Struck with which glory, up starts +<pb n='443'/><anchor id='Pg443'/> +Epicurus, who, with submission to the Gods, thinks a wise +man always happy. He is much charmed with the dignity of +this opinion, but he never would have owned that, had he +attended to himself: for what is there more inconsistent, than +for one who could say that pain was the greatest or the only +evil, to think also that a wise man can possibly say in the +midst of his torture, How sweet is this! We are not, therefore, +to form our judgment of philosophers from detached +sentences, but from their consistency with themselves, and +their ordinary manner of talking. +</p> + +<p> +XI. <hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> You compel me to be of your opinion; but have +a care that you are not inconsistent yourself. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> In what respect? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Because I have lately read your fourth book on Good +and Evil: and in that you appeared to me, while disputing +against Cato, to be endeavouring to show, which in my +opinion means to prove, that Zeno and the Peripatetics differ +only about some new words; but if we allow that, what +reason can there be, if it follows from the arguments of +Zeno, that virtue contains all that is necessary to a happy +life, that the Peripatetics should not be at liberty to say the +same? For, in my opinion, regard should be had to the +thing, not to words. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> What? you would convict me from my own words, +and bring against me what I had said or written elsewhere. +You may act in that manner with those who dispute by +established rules: we live from hand to mouth, and say anything +that strikes our mind with probability, so that we are +the only people who are really at liberty. But, since I just +now spoke of consistency, I do not think the inquiry in this +place is, if the opinion of Zeno and his pupil Aristo be true, +that nothing is good but what is honourable; but, admitting +that, then, whether the whole of a happy life can be rested on +virtue alone. Wherefore, if we certainly grant Brutus this, +that a wise man is always happy, how consistent he is, is +his own business: for who indeed is more worthy than himself +of the glory of that opinion? Still we may maintain +that such a man is more happy than any one else. +</p> + +<p> +XII. Though Zeno the Cittiæan, a stranger and an inconsiderable +coiner of words, appears to have insinuated himself +into the old philosophy; still the prevalence of this opinion +<pb n='444'/><anchor id='Pg444'/> +is due to the authority of Plato, who often makes use of this +expression, <q>that nothing but virtue can be entitled to the +name of good,</q> agreeably to what Socrates says in Plato's +Gorgias; for it is there related that when some one asked +him if he did not think Archelaus the son of Perdiccas, who +was then looked upon as a most fortunate person, a very +happy man: <q>I do not know,</q> replied he, <q>for I never conversed +with him.</q> <q>What, is there no other way you can +know it by?</q> <q>None at all.</q> <q>You cannot, then, pronounce +of the great king of the Persians, whether he is +happy or not?</q> <q>How can I, when I do not know how +learned or how good a man he is?</q> <q>What! do you imagine +that a happy life depends on that?</q> <q>My opinion entirely is, +that good men are happy, and the wicked miserable.</q> <q>Is +Archelaus, then, miserable?</q> <q>Certainly, if unjust.</q> Now +does it not appear to you, that he is here placing the whole of +a happy life in virtue alone? But what does the same man +say in his funeral oration? <q>For,</q> saith he, <q>whoever has +everything that relates to a happy life so entirely dependent +on himself as not to be connected with the good or bad +fortune of another, and not to be affected by, or made in any +degree uncertain by, what befals another; and whoever is +such a one has acquired the best rule of living; he is that +moderate, that brave, that wise man, who submits to the gain +and loss of everything, and especially of his children, and +obeys that old precept; for he will never be too joyful or too +sad, because he depends entirely upon himself.</q> +</p> + +<p> +XIII. From Plato, therefore, all my discourse shall be +deduced, as if from some sacred and hallowed fountain. +Whence can I, then, more properly begin than from nature, +the parent of all? For whatsoever she produces (I am not +speaking only of animals, but even of those things which +have sprung from the earth in such a manner as to rest on +their own roots) she designed it to be perfect in its respective +kind. So that among trees and vines, and those lower plants +and trees which cannot advance themselves high above the +earth, some are evergreen, others are stripped of their leaves +in winter, and, warmed by the spring season, put them out +afresh, and there are none of them but what are so quickened +by a certain interior motion, and their own seeds enclosed in +every one, so as to yield flowers, fruit, or berries, that all may +<pb n='445'/><anchor id='Pg445'/> +have every perfection that belongs to it, provided no violence +prevents it. But the force of nature itself may be more +easily discovered in animals, as she has bestowed sense on +them. For some animals she has taught to swim, and +designed to be inhabitants of the water; others she has +enabled to fly, and has willed that they should enjoy the +boundless air; some others she has made to creep, others to +walk. Again, of these very animals, some are solitary, some +gregarious, some wild, others tame, some hidden and buried +beneath the earth, and every one of these maintains the law +of nature, confining itself to what was bestowed on it, and +unable to change its manner of life. And as every animal +has from nature something that distinguishes it, which every +one maintains and never quits; so man has something far +more excellent, though everything is said to be excellent by +comparison. But the human mind, being derived from the +divine reason, can be compared with nothing but with the +Deity itself, if I may be allowed the expression. This, then, +if it is improved, and when its perception is so preserved as +not to be blinded by errors, becomes a perfect understanding, +that is to say, absolute reason, which is the very same as +virtue. And if everything is happy which wants nothing, +and is complete and perfect in its kind, and that is the +peculiar lot of virtue; certainly all who are possessed of +virtue are happy. And in this I agree with Brutus, and also +with Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, Polemon. +</p> + +<p> +XIV. To me such are the only men who appear completely +happy; for what can he want to a complete happy life who +relies on his own good qualities, or how can he be happy who +does not rely on them? But he who makes a threefold +division of goods must necessarily be diffident, for how can +he depend on having a sound body, or that his fortune shall +continue? but no one can be happy without an immovable, +fixed, and permanent good. What, then, is this opinion of +theirs? So that I think that saying of the Spartan may be +applied to them, who, on some merchant's boasting before +him, that he had despatched ships to every maritime coast, +replied, that a fortune which depended on ropes was not very +desirable. Can there be any doubt that whatever may be +lost, cannot be properly classed in the number of those things +which complete a happy life? for of all that constitutes a +<pb n='446'/><anchor id='Pg446'/> +happy life, nothing will admit of withering, or growing old, or +wearing out, or decaying; for whoever is apprehensive of any +loss of these things cannot be happy; the happy man should +be safe, well fenced, well fortified, out of the reach of all +annoyance, not like a man under trifling apprehensions, but +free from all such. As he is not called innocent who but +slightly offends, but he who offends not at all; so it is he +alone who is to be considered without fear who is free from +all fear, not he who is but in little fear. For what else is +courage but an affection of mind, that is ready to undergo +perils, and patient in the endurance of pain and labour +without any alloy of fear? Now this certainly could not be +the case, if there were anything else good but what depended +on honesty alone. But how can any one be in possession of +that desirable and much-coveted security (for I now call a +freedom from anxiety a security, on which freedom a happy +life depends) who has, or may have, a multitude of evils +attending him? How can he be brave and undaunted, +and hold everything as trifles which can befal a man, for so a +wise man should do, unless he be one who thinks that everything +depends on himself? Could the Lacedæmonians without +this, when Philip threatened to prevent all their attempts, +have asked him, if he could prevent their killing themselves? +Is it not easier, then, to find one man of such a spirit as we +are inquiring after, than to meet with a whole city of such +men? Now, if to this courage I am speaking of we add +temperance, that it may govern all our feelings and agitations, +what can be wanting to complete his happiness who is +secured by his courage from uneasiness and fear; and is +prevented from immoderate desires and immoderate insolence +of joy, by temperance? I could easily show that virtue is +able to produce these effects, but that I have explained on +the foregoing days. +</p> + +<p> +XV. But as the perturbations of the mind make life +miserable, and tranquillity renders it happy; and as these +perturbations are of two sorts, grief and fear, proceeding from +imagined evils, and as immoderate joy and lust arise from a +mistake about what is good, and as all these feelings are in +opposition to reason and counsel; when you see a man at +ease, quite free and disengaged from such troublesome commotions, +which are so much at variance with one another +<pb n='447'/><anchor id='Pg447'/> +can you hesitate to pronounce such an one a happy man? +Now the wise man is always in such a disposition, therefore +the wise man is always happy. Besides, every good is +pleasant; whatever is pleasant may he boasted and talked of; +whatever may he boasted of, is glorious, but whatever is +glorious is certainly laudable, and whatever is laudable doubtless, +also, honourable; whatever, then, is good is honourable; +(but the things which they reckon as goods, they themselves +do not call honourable;) therefore what is honourable alone is +good. Hence it follows that a happy life is comprised in +honesty alone. Such things, then, are not to be called or +considered goods, when a man may enjoy an abundance of +them, and yet be most miserable. Is there any doubt but +that a man who enjoys the best health, and who has strength +and beauty, and his senses flourishing in their utmost quickness +and perfection; suppose him likewise, if you please, +nimble and active, nay, give him riches, honours, authority, +power, glory; now, I say, should this person, who is in +possession of all these, be unjust, intemperate, timid, stupid, +or an idiot, could you hesitate to call such an one miserable? +What, then, are those goods, in the possession of which you +may be very miserable? Let us see if a happy life is not +made up of parts of the same nature, as a heap implies a +quantity of grain of the same kind. And if this be once +admitted, happiness must be compounded of different good +things which alone are honourable; if there is any mixture +of things of another sort with these, nothing honourable can +proceed from such a composition; now, take away honesty, +and how can you imagine anything happy? For whatever is +good is desirable on that account; whatever is desirable must +certainly be approved of; whatever you approve of must be +looked on as acceptable and welcome. You must consequently +impute dignity to this; and if so, it must necessarily be laudable; +therefore, everything that is laudable is good. Hence it +follows, that what is honourable is the only good. And +should we not look upon it in this light, there will be a great +many things which we must call good. +</p> + +<p> +XVI. I forbear to mention riches, which, as any one, let +him be ever so unworthy, may have them, I do not reckon +amongst goods; for what is good is not attainable by all. I +pass over notoriety, and popular fame, raised by the united +<pb n='448'/><anchor id='Pg448'/> +voice of knaves and fools. Even things which are absolute +nothings may be called goods; such as white teeth, handsome +eyes, a good complexion, and what was commended by Euryclea, +when she was washing Ulysses's feet, the softness of his +skin and the mildness of his discourse. If you look on these +as goods, what greater encomiums can the gravity of a philosopher +be entitled to than the wild opinion of the vulgar +and the thoughtless crowd? The Stoics give the name of +excellent and choice to what the others call good: they call +them so, indeed; but they do not allow them to complete a +happy life. But these others think that there is no life happy +without them; or, admitting it to be happy, they deny it to +be the most happy. But our opinion is, that it is the most +happy; and we prove it from that conclusion of Socrates. +For thus that author of philosophy argued: that as the disposition +of a man's mind is, so is the man: such as the man +is, such will be his discourse: his actions will correspond +with his discourse, and his life with his actions. But the disposition +of a good man's mind is laudable; the life, therefore, +of a good man is laudable: it is honourable, therefore, +because laudable: the unavoidable conclusion from which is, +that the life of good men is happy. For, good Gods! did I +not make it appear, by my former arguments,—or was I only +amusing myself and killing time in what I then said,—that +the mind of a wise man was always free from every hasty +motion which I call a perturbation, and that the most undisturbed +peace always reigned in his breast? A man, then, +who is temperate and consistent, free from fear or grief, and +uninfluenced by any immoderate joy or desire, cannot be +otherwise than happy: but a wise man is always so, therefore +he is always happy. Moreover, how can a good man avoid +referring all his actions and all his feelings to the one standard +of whether or not it is laudable? But he does refer everything +to the object of living happily: it follows, then, that a +happy life is laudable; but nothing is laudable without virtue: +a happy life, then, is the consequence of virtue.—And +this is the unavoidable conclusion to be drawn from these +arguments. +</p> + +<p> +XVII. A wicked life has nothing which we ought to speak +of or glory in: nor has that life which is neither happy nor +miserable. But there is a kind of life that admits of being +<pb n='449'/><anchor id='Pg449'/> +spoken of, and gloried in, and boasted of; as Epaminondas +saith,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +The wings of Sparta's pride my counsels clipt. +</quote> + +<p> +And Africanus boasts,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>Who, from beyond Mæotis to the place</l> +<l>Where the sun rises, deeds like mine can trace?</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +If, then, there is such a thing as a happy life, it is to be +gloried in, spoken of, and commended by the person who +enjoys it: for there is nothing excepting that which can be +spoken of, or gloried in; and when that is once admitted, +you know what follows. Now, unless an honourable life is a +happy life, there must of course be something preferable to +a happy life: for that which is honourable, all men will certainly +grant to be preferable to anything else. And thus +there will be something better than a happy life; but what +can be more absurd than such an assertion? What! when +they grant vice to be effectual to the rendering life miserable, +must they not admit that there is a corresponding power in +virtue to make life happy? For contraries follow from contraries. +And here I ask, what weight they think there is in +the balance of Critolaus, who, having put the goods of the +mind into one scale, and the goods of the body and other +external advantages into the other, thought the goods of the +mind outweighed the others so far, that they would require +the whole earth and sea to equalise the scale. +</p> + +<p> +XVIII. What hinders Critolaus, then, or that gravest of +philosophers, Xenocrates (who raises virtue so high, and who +lessens and depreciates everything else), from not only placing +a happy life, but the happiest possible life, in virtue? and, +indeed, if this were not the case, virtue would be absolutely +lost. For whoever is subject to grief, must necessarily be +subject to fear too; for fear is an uneasy apprehension of +future grief: and whoever is subject to fear is liable to dread, +timidity, consternation, cowardice. Therefore, such a person +may, some time or other, be defeated, and not think himself +concerned with that precept of Atreus,— +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>And let men so conduct themselves in life,</l> +<l>As to be always strangers to defeat.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +But such a man, as I have said, will be defeated; and not +only defeated, but made a slave of. But we would have virtue +always free, always invincible; and were it not so, there +<pb n='450'/><anchor id='Pg450'/> +would be an end of virtue. But if virtue has in herself all +that is necessary for a good life, she is certainly sufficient for +happiness: virtue is certainly sufficient, too, for our living +with courage; if with courage, then with a magnanimous +spirit, and indeed so as never to be under any fear, and thus +to be always invincible.—Hence it follows, that there can be +nothing to be repented of, no wants, no lets or hindrances. +Thus all things will be prosperous, perfect, and as you would +have them; and consequently happy: but virtue is sufficient +for living with courage, and therefore virtue is able by herself +to make life happy. For as folly, even when possessed of +what it desires, never thinks it has acquired enough: so wisdom +is always satisfied with the present, and never repents +on her own account. +</p> + +<p> +XIX. Look but on the single consulship of Lælius,—and +that, too, after having been set aside (though when a wise and +good man, like him, is outvoted, the people are disappointed +of a good consul, rather than he disappointed by a vain +people); but the point is, would you prefer, were it in your +power, to be once such a consul as Lælius, or be elected four +times, like Cinna? I have no doubt in the world what answer +you will make, and it is on that account I put the question +to you. +</p> + +<p> +I would not ask every one this question; for some one +perhaps might answer that he would not only prefer four +consulates to one, but even one day of Cinna's life to whole +ages of many famous men. Lælius would have suffered had +he but touched any one with his finger; but Cinna ordered +the head of his colleague consul, Cn. Octavius, to be struck +off; and put to death P. Crassus<note place='foot'>This was the elder +brother of the triumvir Marcus Crassus, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 87. +He was put to death by Fimbria, who was in command of some of the +troops of Marius.</note> and L. Cæsar,<note place='foot'>Lucius Cæsar and +Caius Cæsar were relations (it is uncertain in +what degree) of the great Cæsar, and were killed by Fimbria on the +same occasion as Octavius.</note> those excellent +men, so renowned both at home and abroad; and even +M. Antonius,<note place='foot'>M. Antonius was the grandfather of +the triumvir; he was murdered the same year, +<hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 87, by Annius, when Marius and +Cinna took Rome.</note> the greatest orator whom I ever heard; and +C. Cæsar, who seems to me to have been the pattern of +humanity, politeness, sweetness of temper, and wit. Could +<pb n='451'/><anchor id='Pg451'/> +he, then, be happy who occasioned the death of these men? +So far from it, that he seems to be miserable, not only for +having performed these actions, but also for acting in such a +manner, that it was lawful for him to do it, though it is +unlawful for any one to do wicked actions; but this proceeds +from inaccuracy of speech, for we call whatever a man is +allowed to do, lawful.—Was not Marius happier, I pray you, +when he shared the glory of the victory gained over the Cimbrians +with his colleague Catulus (who was almost another +Lælius, for I look upon the two men as very like one another,) +than when, conqueror in the civil war, he in a passion answered +the friends of Catulus, who were interceding for him, +"Let him die"? And this answer he gave, not once only, but +often. But in such a case, he was happier who submitted to that +barbarous decree than he who issued it. And it is better to receive +an injury than to do one; and so it was better to advance a +little to meet that death that was making its approaches, as +Catulus did, than, like Marius, to sully the glory of six consulships, +and disgrace his latter days, by the death of such a man. +</p> + +<p> +XX. Dionysius exercised his tyranny over the Syracusans +thirty-eight years, being but twenty-five years old when +he seized on the government. How beautiful and how wealthy +a city did he oppress with slavery! And yet we have it from +good authority, that he was remarkably temperate in his +manner of living, that he was very active and energetic in carrying +on business, but naturally mischievous and unjust; from +which description, every one who diligently inquires into truth +must inevitably see that he was very miserable. Neither +did he attain what he so greatly desired, even when he was +persuaded that he had unlimited power; for, notwithstanding +he was of a good family and reputable parents (though that +is contested by some authors), and had a very large acquaintance +of intimate friends and relations, and also some youths +attached to him by ties of love after the fashion of the Greeks, +he could not trust any one of them, but committed the guard +of his person to slaves, whom he had selected from rich +men's families and made free, and to strangers and barbarians. +And thus, through an unjust desire of governing, he in a +manner shut himself up in a prison. Besides, he would not +trust his throat to a barber, but had his daughters taught to +shave; so that these royal virgins were forced to descend to +<pb n='452'/><anchor id='Pg452'/> +the base and slavish employment of shaving the head and +beard of their father. Nor would he trust even them, when +they were grown up, with a razor; but contrived how they +might burn off the hair of his head and beard with red-hot +nut-shells. And as to his two wives, Aristomache his countrywoman, +and Doris of Locris, he never visited them at +night before everything had been well searched and examined. +And as he had surrounded the place where his bed was with +a broad ditch, and made a way over it with a wooden bridge, +he drew that bridge over after shutting his bedchamber door. +And as he did not dare to stand on the ordinary pulpits from +which they usually harangued the people, he generally addressed +them from a high tower. And it is said, that when +he was disposed to play at ball,—for he delighted much in it,—and +had pulled off his clothes, he used to give his sword +into the keeping of a young man whom he was very fond of. +On this, one of his intimates said pleasantly, <q>You certainly +trust your life with him;</q> and as the young man happened +to smile at this, he ordered them both to be slain, the one for +showing how he might be taken off, the other for approving +of what had been said by smiling. But he was so concerned +at what he had done, that nothing affected him more during +his whole life; for he had slain one to whom he was extremely +partial. Thus do weak men's desires pull them different ways, +and whilst they indulge one, they act counter to another. +</p> + +<p> +XXI. This tyrant, however, showed himself how happy he +really was: for once, when Damocles, one of his flatterers, +was dilating in conversation on his forces, his wealth, the +greatness of his power, the plenty he enjoyed, the grandeur +of his royal palaces, and maintaining that no one was ever +happier,—<q>Have you an inclination,</q> said he, <q>Damocles, +as this kind of life pleases you, to have a taste of it yourself, +and to make a trial of the good fortune that attends me?</q> +And when he said that he should like it extremely, Dionysius +ordered him to be laid on a bed of gold with the most +beautiful covering, embroidered and wrought with the most +exquisite work, and he dressed out a great many sideboards +with silver and embossed gold. He then ordered some +youths, distinguished for their handsome persons, to wait at +his table, and to observe his nod, in order to serve him with +what he wanted. There were ointments and garlands; perfumes +<pb n='453'/><anchor id='Pg453'/> +were burned; tables provided with the most exquisite +meats. Damocles thought himself very happy. In the +midst of this apparatus, Dionysius ordered a bright sword to +be let down from the ceiling, suspended by a single horsehair, +so as to hang over the head of that happy man. After +which he neither cast his eye on those handsome waiters, nor +on the well wrought plate; nor touched any of the provisions: +presently the garlands fell to pieces. At last he entreated +the tyrant to give him leave to go, for that now he had no +desire to be happy.<note place='foot'><p>This story is alluded to by Horace— +</p> +<p> +Districtus ensis cui super impiâ<lb/> +Cervice pendet non Siculæ dapes<lb/> +Dulcem elaborabunt saporem,<lb/> +Non avium citharæve cantus<lb/> +Somnum reducent.—iii. 1. 17. +</p></note> Does not Dionysius, then, seem to have +declared there can be no happiness for one who is under +constant apprehensions? But it was not now in his power +to return to justice, and restore his citizens their rights and +privileges; for, by the indiscretion of youth, he had engaged +in so many wrong steps, and committed such extravagances, +that had he attempted to have returned to a right way of +thinking he must have endangered his life. +</p> + +<p> +XXII. Yet, how desirous he was of friendship, though at +the same time he dreaded the treachery of friends, appears +from the story of those two Pythagoreans: one of these had +been security for his friend, who was condemned to die; the +other, to release his security, presented himself at the time +appointed for his dying: <q>I wish,</q> said Dionysius, <q>you +would admit me as the third in your friendship.</q> What +misery was it for him to be deprived of acquaintance, of +company at his table, and of the freedom of conversation; +especially for one who was a man of learning, and from his +childhood acquainted with liberal arts, very fond of music, +and himself a tragic poet,—how good a one is not to the +purpose, for I know not how it is, but in this way, more than +any other, every one thinks his own performances excellent. +I never as yet knew any poet (and I was very intimate with +Aquinius), who did not appear to himself to be very admirable. +The case is this; you are pleased with your own works, I like +mine. But to return to Dionysius: he debarred himself +<pb n='454'/><anchor id='Pg454'/> +from all civil and polite conversation, and spent his life +among fugitives, bondmen, and barbarians; for he was persuaded +that no one could be his friend who was worthy of +liberty or had the least desire of being free. +</p> + +<p> +XXIII. Shall I not, then, prefer the life of Plato and +Archytas, manifestly wise and learned men, to his, than +which nothing can possibly be more horrid, or miserable, or +detestable? +</p> + +<p> +I will present you with an humble and obscure mathematician +of the same city, called Archimedes, who lived +many years after; whose tomb, overgrown with shrubs and +briars, I in my quæstorship discovered, when the Syracusans +knew nothing of it, and even denied that there was any such +thing remaining: for I remembered some verses, which I had +been informed were engraved on his monument, and these set +forth that on the top of the tomb there was placed a sphere +with a cylinder. When I had carefully examined all the +monuments (for there are a great many tombs at the gate +Achradinæ), I observed a small column standing out a little +above the briars, with the figure of a sphere and a cylinder +upon it; whereupon I immediately said to the Syracusans, +for there were some of their principal men with me there, that +I imagined that was what I was inquiring for. Several men +being sent in with scythes, cleared the way, and made an +opening for us. When we could get at it, and were come +near to the front of the pedestal, I found the inscription, +though the latter parts of all the verses were effaced almost +half away. Thus one of the noblest cities of Greece, and one +which at one time likewise had been very celebrated for +learning, had known nothing of the monument of its greatest +genius, if it had not been discovered to them by a native of +Arpinum. But to return to the subject from which I have +been digressing. Who is there in the least degree acquainted +with the Muses, that is, with liberal knowledge, or that deals +at all in learning, who would not choose to be this mathematician +rather than that tyrant? If we look into their methods +of living and their employments, we shall find the mind of +the one strengthened and improved with tracing the deductions +of reason, amused with his own ingenuity, which is the one +most delicious food of the mind; the thoughts of the other +engaged in continual murders and injuries, in constant fears +<pb n='455'/><anchor id='Pg455'/> +by night and by day. Now imagine a Democritus, a Pythagoras, +and an Anaxagoras; what kingdom, what riches would +you prefer to their studies and amusements? for you must +necessarily look for that excellence which we are seeking for +in that which is the most perfect part of man; but what is +there better in man than a sagacious and good mind? The +enjoyment, therefore, of that good which proceeds from that +sagacious mind, can alone make us happy: but virtue is the +good of the mind; it follows, therefore, that a happy life +depends on virtue. Hence proceed all things that are +beautiful, honourable, and excellent, as I said above (but this +point must, I think, be treated of more at large), and they +are well stored with joys. For, as it is clear that a happy +life consists in perpetual and unexhausted pleasures, it follows +too, that a happy life must arise from honesty. +</p> + +<p> +XXIV. But that what I propose to demonstrate to you +may not rest on mere words only, I must set before you the +picture of something, as it were, living and moving in the +world, that may dispose us more for the improvement of the +understanding and real knowledge. Let us, then, pitch upon +some man perfectly acquainted with the most excellent arts; +let us present him for a while to our own thoughts, and figure +him to our own imaginations. In the first place, he must +necessarily be of an extraordinary capacity; for virtue is not +easily connected with dull minds. Secondly, he must have a +great desire of discovering truth, from whence will arise that +threefold production of the mind; one of which depends on +knowing things, and explaining nature: the other in defining +what we ought to desire, and what to avoid: the third in +judging of consequences and impossibilities: in which consists +both subtilty in disputing, and also clearness of judgment. +Now with what pleasure must the mind of a wise man be +affected, which continually dwells in the midst of such cares +and occupations as these, when he views the revolutions and +motions of the whole world, and sees those innumerable stars +in the heavens, which, though fixed in their places, have yet +one motion in common with the whole universe, and observes +the seven other stars, some higher, some lower, each maintaining +their own course, while their motions, though wandering, +have certain defined and appointed spaces to run through, +the sight of which doubtless urged and encouraged those +<pb n='456'/><anchor id='Pg456'/> +ancient philosophers to exercise their investigating spirit on +many other things. Hence arose an inquiry after the beginnings, +and, as it were, seeds from which all things were +produced and composed; what was the origin of every kind +of thing, whether animate or inanimate, articulately speaking +or mute; what occasioned their beginning and end, and by +what alteration and change one thing was converted into +another: whence the earth originated, and by what weights +it was balanced: by what caverns the seas were supplied: by +what gravity all things being carried down tend always to +the middle of the world, which in any round body is the +lowest place. +</p> + +<p> +XXV. A mind employed on such subjects, and which night +and day contemplates them, contains in itself that precept of +the Delphic God, so as to <q>know itself,</q> and to perceive its +connexion with the divine reason, from whence it is filled with +an insatiable joy. For reflections on the power and nature +of the Gods raise in us a desire of imitating their eternity. +Nor does the mind, that sees the necessary dependences and +connexions that one cause has with another, think it possible +that it should be itself confined to the shortness of this life. +Those causes, though they proceed from eternity to eternity, +are governed by reason and understanding. And he who beholds +them and examines them, or rather he whose view takes +in all the parts and boundaries of things, with what tranquillity +of mind does he look on all human affairs, and on +all that is nearer him! Hence proceeds the knowledge of +virtue; hence arise the kinds and species of virtues; hence +are discovered those things which nature regards as the +bounds and extremities of good and evil; by this it is discovered +to what all duties ought to be referred, and which is +the most eligible manner of life. And when these and similar +points have been investigated, the principal consequence which +is deduced from them, and that which is our main object in +this discussion, is the establishment of the point—that virtue +is of itself sufficient to a happy life. +</p> + +<p> +The third qualification of our wise man is the next to +be considered, which goes through and spreads itself over +every part of wisdom; it is that whereby we define each +particular thing, distinguish the genus from its species, +connect consequences, draw just conclusions, and distinguish +<pb n='457'/><anchor id='Pg457'/> +truth from falsehood, which is the very art and science of +disputing; which is not only of the greatest use in the +examination of what passes in the world, but is likewise the +most rational entertainment, and that which is most becoming +to true wisdom. Such are its effects in retirement. Now let +our wise man be considered as protecting the republic; what +can be more excellent than such a character? By his +prudence he will discover the true interests of his fellow-citizens, +by his justice he will be prevented from applying +what belongs to the public to his own use; and in short, he +will be ever governed by all the virtues which are many and +various? To these let us add the advantage of his friendships; +in which the learned reckon not only a natural +harmony and agreement of sentiments throughout the conduct +of life, but the utmost pleasure and satisfaction in +conversing and passing our time constantly with one another. +What can be wanting to such a life as this, to make it more +happy than it is? Fortune herself must yield to a life stored +with such joys. Now if it be a happiness to rejoice in such +goods of the mind, that is to say, in such virtues, and if all wise +men enjoy thoroughly these pleasures, it must necessarily be +granted that all such are happy. +</p> + +<p> +XXVI. <hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> What, when in torments and on the rack? +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> Do you imagine I am speaking of him as laid on roses +and violets? Is it allowable even for Epicurus (who only +puts on the appearance of being a philosopher, and who +himself assumed that name for himself,) to say, (though as +matters stand, I commend him for his saying,) that a wise +man might at all times cry out, though he be burned, tortured, +cut to pieces, <q>How little I regard it!</q> Shall this be +said by one who defines all evil as pain, and measures every +good by pleasure; who could ridicule whatever we call either +honourable or base, and could declare of us that we were +employed about words, and uttering mere empty sounds; and +that nothing is to be regarded by us, but as it is perceived to +be smooth or rough by the body? What, shall such a man +as this, as I said, whose understanding is little superior to the +beasts, be at liberty to forget himself; and not only to despise +fortune, when the whole of his good and evil is in the power +of fortune, but to say, that he is happy in the most racking +torture, when he had actually declared pain to be not only +<pb n='458'/><anchor id='Pg458'/> +the greatest evil, but the only one? Nor did he take any +trouble to provide himself with those remedies which might +have enabled him to bear pain; such as firmness of mind, a +shame of doing anything base, exercise, and the habit of +patience, precepts of courage, and a manly hardiness: but he +says that he supports himself on the single recollection of +past pleasures, as if any one, when the weather was so hot +as that he was scarcely able to bear it, should comfort himself +by recollecting that he was once in my country Arpinum, +where he was surrounded on every side by cooling streams: +for I do not apprehend how past pleasures can allay present +evils. But when he says that a wise man is always happy, +who would have no right to say so if he were consistent with +himself, what may they not do, who allow nothing to be +desirable, nothing to be looked on as good but what is +honourable? Let, then, the Peripatetics and old Academics +follow my example, and at length leave off muttering to +themselves; and openly and with a clear voice let them be +bold to say, that a happy life may not be inconsistent with +the agonies of Phalaris's bull. +</p> + +<p> +XXVII. But to dismiss the subtleties of the Stoics, which +I am sensible I have employed more than was necessary, let +us admit of three kinds of goods: and let them really be +kinds of goods, provided no regard is had to the body, and to +external circumstances, as entitled to the appellation of good +in any other sense than because we are obliged to use them: +but let those other divine goods spread themselves far in +every direction, and reach the very heavens. Why, then, may +I not call him happy, nay, the happiest of men, who has +attained them? Shall a wise man be afraid of pain? which +is, indeed, the greatest enemy to our opinion. For I am +persuaded that we are prepared and fortified sufficiently, by +the disputations of the foregoing days, against our own death, +or that of our friends, against grief and the other perturbations +of the mind. But pain seems to be the sharpest adversary +of virtue: that it is which menaces us with burning +torches; that it is which threatens to crush our fortitude, +and greatness of mind, and patience. Shall virtue then yield +to this? Shall the happy life of a wise and consistent man +succumb to this? Good Gods! how base would this be! +Spartan boys will bear to have their bodies torn by rods +<pb n='459'/><anchor id='Pg459'/> +without uttering a groan. I myself have seen at Lacedæmon, +troops of young men, with incredible earnestness contending +together with their hands and feet, with their teeth and nails, +nay even ready to expire, rather than own themselves conquered. +Is any country of barbarians more uncivilized or +desolate than India? Yet they have amongst them some +that are held for wise men, who never wear any clothes +all their life long, and who bear the snow of Caucasus, and +the piercing cold of winter, without any pain: and who if they +come in contact with fire endure being burned without a groan. +The women too, in India, on the death of their husbands have +a regular contest, and apply to the judge to have it determined +which of them was best beloved by him; for it is customary +there for one man to have many wives. She in whose favour +it is determined exults greatly, and being attended by her +relations is laid on the funeral pile with her husband: the +others, who are postponed, walk away very much dejected. +Custom can never be superior to nature: for nature is never +to be got the better of. But our minds are infected by sloth +and idleness, and luxury, and languor, and indolence: we +have enervated them by opinions, and bad customs. Who is +there who is unacquainted with the customs of the Egyptians? +Their minds being tainted by pernicious opinions, they are +ready to bear any torture, rather than hurt an ibis, a snake, a +cat, a dog, or a crocodile: and should any one inadvertently +have hurt any of these animals, he will submit to any punishment. +I am speaking of men only. As to the beasts, do +they not bear cold and hunger, running about in woods, and +on mountains and deserts? will they not fight for their young +ones till they are wounded? Are they afraid of any attacks +or blows? I mention not what the ambitious will suffer for +honour's sake, or those who are desirous of praise on account +of glory, or lovers to gratify their lust. Life is full of such +instances. +</p> + +<p> +XXVIII. But let us not dwell too much on these questions, +but rather let us return to our subject. I say, and say again, +that happiness will submit even to be tormented; and that +in pursuit of justice, and temperance, and still more especially +and principally fortitude, and greatness of soul, and patience, +it will not stop short at sight of the executioner; and when +all other virtues proceed calmly to the torture, that one will +<pb n='460'/><anchor id='Pg460'/> +never halt, as I said, on the outside and threshold of the +prison: for what can be baser, what can carry a worse appearance, +than to be left alone, separated from those beautiful +attendants? not however that this is by any means possible: +for neither can the virtues hold together without happiness, +nor happiness without the virtues: so that they will not suffer +her to desert them, but will carry her along with them, to +whatever torments, to whatever pain they are led. For it is +the peculiar quality of a wise man to do nothing that he may +repent of, nothing against his inclination: but always to act +nobly, with constancy, gravity, and honesty: to depend on +nothing as certainty: to wonder at nothing, when it falls out, +as if it appeared strange and unexpected to him: to be independent +of every one, and abide by his own opinion. For +my part, I cannot form an idea of anything happier than this. +The conclusion of the Stoics is indeed easy; for since they are +persuaded that the end of good is to live agreeably to nature, +and to be consistent with that,—as a wise man should do so, +not only because it is his duty, but because it is in his power, +it must of course follow, that whoever has the chief good in +his power, has his happiness so too. And thus the life of a +wise man is always happy. You have here what I think may +be confidently said of a happy life, and as things now stand, +very truly also, unless you can advance something better. +</p> + +<p> +XXIX. <hi rend='italic'>A.</hi> Indeed I cannot; but I should be glad to prevail +on you, unless it is troublesome (as you are under no +confinement from obligations to any particular sect, but +gather from all of them whatever strikes you most as having +the appearance of probability), as you just now seemed to +advise the Peripatetics and the Old Academy, boldly to speak +out without reserve, <q>that wise men are always the happiest,</q>—I +should be glad to hear how you think it consistent for them +to say so, when you have said so much against that opinion, +and the conclusions of the Stoics. +</p> + +<p> +<hi rend='italic'>M.</hi> I will make use, then, of that liberty which no one has +the privilege of using in philosophy but those of our school, +whose discourses determine nothing, but take in everything, +leaving them, unsupported by the authority of any particular +person, to be judged of by others, according to their weight. +And as you seem desirous of knowing how it is that, notwithstanding +the different opinions of philosophers with regard to +<pb n='461'/><anchor id='Pg461'/> +the ends of goods, virtue has still sufficient security for the +effecting of a happy life,—which security, as we are informed, +Carneades used indeed to dispute against; but he disputed as +against the Stoics, whose opinions he combated with great +zeal and vehemence,—I however shall handle the question +with more temper; for if the Stoics have rightly settled the +<emph>ends</emph> of goods, the affair is at an end; for a wise man must +necessarily be always happy. But let us examine, if we can, +the particular opinions of the others, that so this excellent +decision, if I may so call it, in favour of a happy life, may be +agreeable to the opinions and discipline of all. +</p> + +<p> +XXX. These then are the opinions, as I think, that are +held and defended: the first four are simple ones; <q>that +nothing is good but what is honest,</q> according to the Stoics: +"nothing good but pleasure," as Epicurus maintains: +<q>nothing good but a freedom from pain,</q> as Hieronymus<note place='foot'>Hieronymus +was a Rhodian, and a pupil of Aristotle, flourishing +about 300 <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> He is frequently mentioned by Cicero.</note> +asserts: <q>nothing good but an enjoyment of the principal, or +all, or the greatest goods of nature,</q> as Carneades maintained +against the Stoics:—these are simple, the others are mixed propositions. +Then there are three kinds of goods; the greatest +being those of the mind, the next best those of the body, the +third are external goods, as the Peripatetics call them, and +the old Academics differ very little from them. Dinomachus<note place='foot'>We +know very little of Dinomachus. Some MSS. have Clitomachus.</note> +and Callipho<note place='foot'>Callipho was in all probability a pupil of Epicurus, +but we have no certain information about him.</note> have coupled pleasure +with honesty: but Diodorus,<note place='foot'>Diodorus was a Syrian, and +succeeded Critolaus as the head of the Peripatetic School at +Athens.</note> the Peripatetic, has joined indolence to honesty. +These are the opinions that have some footing; for those of +Aristo,<note place='foot'>Aristo was a native of Ceos, and a pupil of Lycon, who succeeded +Stratton as the head of the Peripatetic School, <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 270. He +afterwards himself succeeded Lycon.</note> Pyrrho,<note place='foot'>Pyrrho was a +native of Elis, and the originator of the sceptical +theories of some of the ancient philosophers. He was a contemporary +of Alexander.</note> Herillus,<note place='foot'>Herillus was a +disciple of Zeno of Cittium, and therefore a Stoic. +He did not, however, follow all the opinions of his master: he held that +knowledge was the chief good. Some of the treatises of Cleanthes were +written expressly to confute him.</note> and of some others, are quite out +<pb n='462'/><anchor id='Pg462'/> +of date. Now let us see what weight these men have in +them, excepting the Stoics, whose opinion I think I have sufficiently +defended; and indeed I have explained what the +Peripatetics have to say; excepting that Theophrastus, and +those who followed him, dread and abhor pain in too weak a +manner. The others may go on to exaggerate the gravity +and dignity of virtue, as usual; and then, after they have +extolled it to the skies, with the usual extravagance of good +orators, it is easy to reduce the other topics to nothing by +comparison, and to hold them up to contempt. They who +think that praise deserves to be sought after, even at the expense +of pain, are not at liberty to deny those men to be happy, +who have obtained it. Though they may be under some evils, +yet this name of happy has a very wide application. +</p> + +<p> +XXXI. For even as trading is said to be lucrative, and +farming advantageous, not because the one never meets with +any loss, nor the other with any damage from the inclemency +of the weather, but because they succeed in general: so life +may be properly called happy, not from its being entirely +made up of good things, but because it abounds with these to +a great and considerable degree. By this way of reasoning, +then, a happy life may attend virtue even to the moment of +execution; nay, may descend with her into Phalaris's bull, +according to Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, Polemon; and +will not be gained over by any allurements to forsake her. +Of the same opinion will Calliphon and Diodorus be: for they +are both of them such friends to virtue, as to think that all +things should be discarded and far removed that are incompatible +with it. The rest seem to be more hampered with +these doctrines, but yet they get clear of them; such as +Epicurus, Hieronymus, and whoever else thinks it worth +while to defend the deserted Carneades: for there is not one +of them who does not think the mind to be judge of those +goods, and able sufficiently to instruct him how to despise +what has the appearance only of good or evil. For what +seems to you to be the case with Epicurus, is the case also +with Hieronymus and Carneades, and indeed with all the rest +of them: for who is there who is not sufficiently prepared +against death and pain? I will begin, with your leave, with +him whom we call soft and voluptuous. What! does he seem +to you to be afraid of death or pain, when he calls the day of +<pb n='463'/><anchor id='Pg463'/> +his death happy; and who, when he is afflicted by the greatest +pains, silences them all by recollecting arguments of his own +discovering? And this is not done in such a manner as to +give room for imagining that he talks thus wildly from some +sudden impulse: but his opinion of death is, that on the +dissolution of the animal, all sense is lost; and what is +deprived of sense is, as he thinks, what we have no concern +at all with. And as to pain too, he has certain rules +to follow then: if it be great, the comfort is, that it must be +short; if it be of long continuance, then it must be supportable. +What then? Do those grandiloquent gentlemen state +anything better than Epicurus, in opposition to these two +things which distress us the most? And as to other things, +do not Epicurus and the rest of the philosophers seem sufficiently +prepared? Who is there who does not dread poverty? +And yet no true philosopher ever can dread it. +</p> + +<p> +XXXII. But with how little is this man himself satisfied? +No one has said more on frugality. For when a man is far +removed from those things which occasion a desire of money, +from love, ambition, or other daily extravagance, why should +he be fond of money, or concern himself at all about it? +Could the Scythian Anacharsis<note place='foot'>Anacharsis was +(Herod, iv. 76) son of Gnurus and brother of Saulius, +king of Thrace. He came to Athens while Solon was occupied in +framing laws for his people; and by the simplicity of his way of living, +and his acute observations on the manners of the Greeks, he excited +such general admiration, that he was reckoned by some writers among +the seven wise men of Greece.</note> disregard money, and shall +not our philosophers be able to do so? We are informed of +an epistle of his, in these words: <q>Anacharsis to Hanno, +greeting. My clothing is the same as that with which the +Scythians cover themselves; the hardness of my feet supplies +the want of shoes; the ground is my bed, hunger my sauce, +my food milk, cheese, and flesh. So you may come to me as +to a man in want of nothing. But as to those presents you +take so much pleasure in, you may dispose of them to your +own citizens, or to the immortal gods.</q> And almost all philosophers, +of all schools, excepting those who are warped from +right reason by a vicious disposition, might have been of this +same opinion. Socrates, when on one occasion he saw a great +quantity of gold and silver carried in a procession, cried +out, <q>How many things are there which I do not want!</q> +</p> + +<pb n='464'/><anchor id='Pg464'/> + +<p> +Xenocrates, when some ambassadors from Alexander had +brought him fifty talents, which was a very large sum of money +in those times, especially at Athens, carried the ambassadors to +sup in the Academy; and placed just a sufficiency before +them, without any apparatus. When they asked him, the +next day, to whom he wished the money which they had for +him to be paid: <q>What?</q> said he, <q>did you not perceive +by our slight repast of yesterday, that I had no occasion for +money?</q> But when he perceived that they were somewhat +dejected, he accepted of thirty minæ, that he might not seem +to treat with disrespect the king's generosity. But Diogenes +took a greater liberty, like a Cynic, when Alexander asked +him if he wanted anything: <q>Just at present,</q> said he, <q>I +wish that you would stand a little out of the line between me +and the sun,</q> for Alexander was hindering him from sunning +himself. And indeed this very man used to maintain how +much he surpassed the Persian king, in his manner of life and +fortune; for that he himself was in want of nothing, while +the other never had enough; and that he had no inclination +for those pleasures of which the other could never get +enough to satisfy himself: and that the other could never +obtain his. +</p> + +<p> +XXXIII. You see, I imagine, how Epicurus has divided +his kinds of desires, not very acutely perhaps, but yet usefully: +saying, that they are <q>partly natural and necessary; +partly natural, but not necessary; partly neither. That those +which are necessary may be supplied almost for nothing; for +that the things which nature requires are easily obtained.</q> +As to the second kind of desires, his opinion is, that any one +may easily either enjoy or go without them. And with +regard to the third, since they are utterly frivolous, being +neither allied to necessity nor nature, he thinks that they +should be entirely rooted out. On this topic a great many +arguments are adduced by the Epicureans; and those pleasures +which they do not despise in a body, they disparage one +by one, and seem rather for lessening the number of them: +for as to wanton pleasures, on which subject they say a great +deal, these, say they, are easy, common, and within any one's +reach; and they think that if nature requires them, they are +not to be estimated by birth, condition, or rank, but by +shape, age, and person: and that it is by no means difficult +<pb n='465'/><anchor id='Pg465'/> +to refrain from them, should health, duty, or reputation require +it; but that pleasures of this kind may be desirable, +where they are attended with no inconvenience, but can never +be of any use. And the assertions which Epicurus makes +with respect to the whole of pleasure, are such as show his +opinion to be that pleasure is always desirable, and to be +pursued merely because it is pleasure; and for the same +reason pain is to be avoided, because it is pain. So that a +wise man will always adopt such a system of counterbalancing +as to do himself the justice to avoid pleasure, should pain +ensue from it in too great a proportion; and will submit to +pain, provided the effects of it are to produce a greater pleasure: +so that all pleasurable things, though the corporeal +senses are the judges of them, are still to be referred to the +mind, on which account the body rejoices, whilst it perceives +a present pleasure; but that the mind not only perceives the +present as well as the body, but foresees it, while it is coming, +and even when it is past will not let it quite slip away. So +that a wise man enjoys a continual series of pleasures, uniting +the expectation of future pleasure to the recollection of what +he has already tasted. The like notions are applied by them +to high living; and the magnificence and expensiveness of +entertainments are deprecated, because nature is satisfied at +a small expense. +</p> + +<p> +XXXIV. For who does not see this, that an appetite is the +best sauce? When Darius, in his flight from the enemy, had +drunk some water which was muddy and tainted with dead +bodies, he declared that he had never drunk anything more +pleasant; the fact was, that he had never drunk before when +he was thirsty. Nor had Ptolemy ever eaten when he was +hungry: for as he was travelling over Egypt, his company +not keeping up with him, he had some coarse bread presented +him in a cottage: upon which he said, <q>Nothing ever +seemed to him pleasanter than that bread.</q> They relate too +of Socrates, that, once when he was walking very fast till the +evening, on his being asked why he did so, his reply was that +he was purchasing an appetite by walking, that he might sup +the better. And do we not see what the Lacedæmonians provide +in their Phiditia? where the tyrant Dionysius supped, +but told them he did not at all like that black broth, which +<pb n='466'/><anchor id='Pg466'/> +was their principal dish; on which he who dressed it said, +<q>It was no wonder, for it wanted seasoning.</q> Dionysius +asked what that seasoning was; to which it was replied, +<q>Fatigue in hunting, sweating, a race on the banks of Eurotas, +hunger, and thirst:</q> for these are the seasonings to the +Lacedæmonian banquets. And this may not only be conceived +from the custom of men, but from the beasts, who are +satisfied with anything that is thrown before them, provided +it is not unnatural, and they seek no farther. Some entire +cities, taught by custom, delight in parsimony, as I said but +just now of the Lacedæmonians. Xenophon has given an +account of the Persian diet; who never, as he saith, use +anything but cresses with their bread, not but that, should +nature require anything more agreeable, many things might +be easily supplied by the ground, and plants in great +abundance, and of incomparable sweetness. Add to this, +strength and health, as the consequence of this abstemious +way of living. Now compare with this, those who sweat +and belch, being crammed with eating, like fatted oxen: then +will you perceive that they who pursue pleasure most, attain +it least: and that the pleasure of eating lies not in satiety, +but appetite. +</p> + +<p> +XXXV. They report of Timotheus, a famous man at +Athens, and the head of the city, that having supped with +Plato, and being extremely delighted with his entertainment, +on seeing him the next day, he said, <q>Your suppers are not +only agreeable whilst I partake of them, but the next day +also.</q> Besides, the understanding is impaired when we are full +with over-eating and drinking. There is an excellent epistle +of Plato to Dion's relations, in which there occurs as nearly +as possible these words: <q>When I came there, that happy +life so much talked of, devoted to Italian and Syracusan +entertainments, was no ways agreeable to me; to be crammed +twice a day, and never to have the night to yourself, and the +other things which are the accompaniments of this kind +of life, by which a man will never be made the wiser, +but will be rendered much less temperate; for it must be an +extraordinary disposition that can be temperate in such circumstances.</q> +How, then, can a life be pleasant without prudence +and temperance? Hence you discover the mistake of +<pb n='467'/><anchor id='Pg467'/> +Sardanapalus, the wealthiest king of the Assyrians, who +ordered it to be engraved on his tomb, +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +<lg> +<l>I still have what in food I did exhaust,</l> +<l>But what I left, though excellent, is lost.</l> +</lg> +</quote> + +<p> +<q>What less than this,</q> says Aristotle, <q>could be inscribed +on the tomb, not of a king but an ox?</q> He said that he +possessed those things when dead, which, in his lifetime, he +could have no longer than whilst he was enjoying them. Why, +then, are riches desired? And wherein doth poverty prevent +us from being happy? In the want, I imagine, of statues, pictures, +and diversions. But if any one is delighted with these +things, have not the poor people the enjoyment of them more +than they who are the owners of them in the greatest abundance? +For we have great numbers of them displayed publicly +in our city. And whatever store of them private people +have, they cannot have a great number, and they but seldom +see them, only when they go to their country seats; and +some of them must be stung to the heart when they consider +how they came by them. The day would fail me, should I be +inclined to defend the cause of poverty: the thing is manifest, +and nature daily informs us how few things there are, and +how trifling they are, of which she really stands in need. +</p> + +<p> +XXXVI. Let us inquire, then, if obscurity, the want of +power, or even the being unpopular, can prevent a wise man +from being happy. Observe if popular favour, and this glory +which they are so fond of, be not attended with more uneasiness +than pleasure. Our friend Demosthenes was certainly +very weak in declaring himself pleased with the whisper of a +woman who was carrying water, as is the custom in Greece, +and who whispered to another, <q>That is he—that is Demosthenes.</q> +What could be weaker than this? and yet what an +orator he was! But although he had learned to speak to +others, he had conversed but little with himself. We may +perceive, therefore, that popular glory is not desirable of +itself; nor is obscurity to be dreaded. <q>I came to Athens,</q> +saith Democritus, <q>and there was no one there that knew +me:</q> this was a moderate and grave man who could glory in +his obscurity. Shall musicians compose their tunes to their +own tastes; and shall a philosopher, master of a much better +art, seek to ascertain, not what is most true, but what will +<pb n='468'/><anchor id='Pg468'/> +please the people? Can anything be more absurd than to +despise the vulgar as mere unpolished mechanics, taken singly, +and to think them of consequence when collected into a body? +These wise men would contemn our ambitious pursuits, and +our vanities, and would reject all the honours which the +people could voluntarily offer to them: but we know not +how to despise them till we begin to repent of having accepted +them. There is an anecdote related by Heraclitus +the natural philosopher, of Hermodorus the chief of the +Ephesians, that he said, <q>that all the Ephesians ought to +be punished with death, for saying, when they had expelled +Hermodorus out of their city, that they would have no one +amongst them better than another; but that if there were +any such, he might go elsewhere to some other people.</q> Is +not this the case with the people everywhere? do they not +hate every virtue that distinguishes itself? What! was not +Aristides (I had rather instance in the Greeks than ourselves) +banished his country for being eminently just? What +troubles, then, are they free from who have no connexion whatever +with the people! What is more agreeable than a learned +retirement? I speak of that learning which makes us acquainted +with the boundless extent of nature, and the universe, +and which even while we remain in this world discovers +to us both heaven, earth, and sea. +</p> + +<p> +XXXVII. If, then, honour and riches have no value, what +is there else to be afraid of? Banishment, I suppose; which +is looked on as the greatest evil. Now, if the evil of banishment +proceeds not from ourselves, but from the froward +disposition of the people, I have just now declared how contemptible +it is. But if to leave one's country be miserable, +the provinces are full of miserable men; very few of the settlers +in which ever return to their country again. But exiles are +deprived of their property! What, then! has there not been +enough said on bearing poverty? But with regard to banishment, +if we examine the nature of things, not the ignominy of +the name, how little does it differ from constant travelling? in +which some of the most famous philosophers have spent their +whole life: as Xenocrates, Crantor, Arcesilas, Lacydes, Aristotle, +Theophrastus, Zeno, Cleanthes, Chrysippus, Antipater, Carneades, +Panætius, Clitomachus, Philo, Antiochus, Posidonius, +and innumerable others; who from their first setting out never +<pb n='469'/><anchor id='Pg469'/> +returned home again. Now what ignominy can a wise man +be affected with (for it is of such a one that I am speaking) +who can be guilty of nothing which deserves it; for there is +no occasion to comfort one who is banished for his deserts. +Lastly, they can easily reconcile themselves to every accident +who measure all their objects and pursuits in life by the +standard of pleasure; so that in whatever place that is supplied, +there they may live happily. Thus what Teucer said +may be applied to every case: +</p> + +<quote rend='display'> +Wherever I am happy, is my country. +</quote> + +<p> +Socrates, indeed, when he was asked where he belonged to, +replied, <q>The world;</q> for he looked upon himself as a +citizen and inhabitant of the whole world. How was it with +T. Altibutius? Did he not follow his philosophical studies +with the greatest satisfaction at Athens, although he was +banished? which, however, would not have happened to him, +if he had obeyed the laws of Epicurus, and lived peaceably +in the republic. In what was Epicurus happier, living in his +own country, than Metrodorus who lived at Athens? Or did +Plato's happiness exceed that of Xenocrates, or Polemo, or +Arcesilas? Or is that city to be valued much, that banishes +all her good and wise men? Demaratus, the father of our +king Tarquin, not being able to bear the tyrant Cypselus, fled +from Corinth to Tarquinii, settled there, and had children. +Was it, then, an unwise act in him to prefer the liberty of +banishment to slavery at home? +</p> + +<p> +XXXVIII. Besides the emotions of the mind, all griefs +and anxieties are assuaged by forgetting them, and turning +our thoughts to pleasure. Therefore, it was not without +reason that Epicurus presumed to say that a wise man +abounds with good things, because he may always have his +pleasures: from whence it follows, as he thinks, that that +point is gained, which is the subject of our present inquiry, +that a wise man is always happy. What! though he should +be deprived of the senses of seeing and hearing? Yes; for +he holds those things very cheap. For, in the first place, +what are the pleasures of which we are deprived by that +dreadful thing, blindness? For though they allow other +pleasures to be confined to the senses, yet the things which +are perceived by the sight do not depend wholly on the +<pb n='470'/><anchor id='Pg470'/> +pleasure the eyes receive; as is the case when we taste, smell, +touch, or hear; for, in respect of all these senses, the organs +themselves are the seat of pleasure; but it is not so with the +eyes. For it is the mind which is entertained by what +we see; but the mind may be entertained in many ways, +even though we could not see at all. I am speaking of a +learned and a wise man, with whom to think is to live. But +thinking in the case of a wise man does not altogether require +the use of his eyes in his investigations; for if night does +not strip him of his happiness, why should blindness, which +resembles night, have that effect? For the reply of Antipater +the Cyrenaic, to some women who bewailed his being blind, +though it is a little too obscene, is not without its significance. +<q>What do you mean?</q> saith he; <q>do you think the night +can furnish no pleasure?</q> And we find by his magistracies +and his actions, that old Appius<note place='foot'>This was Appius +Claudius Cæcus, who was censor <hi rend='smallcaps'>b.c.</hi> 310, and +who, according to Livy, was afflicted with blindness by the gods for +persuading the Potitii to instruct the public servants in the way of +sacrificing to Hercules. He it was who made the Via Appia.</note> +too, who was blind for many +years, was not prevented from doing whatever was required +of him, with respect either to the republic or his own affairs. +It is said, that C. Drusus's house was crowded with clients. +When they, whose business it was, could not see how to conduct +themselves, they applied to a blind guide. +</p> + +<p> +XXXIX. When I was a boy, Cn. Aufidius, a blind man, +who had served the office of prætor, not only gave his opinion +in the senate, and was ready to assist his friends, but wrote +a Greek history, and had a considerable acquaintance with +literature. Diodorus the Stoic was blind, and lived many +years at my house. He, indeed, which is scarcely credible, +besides applying himself more than usual to philosophy, and +playing on the flute, agreeably to the custom of the Pythagoreans, +and having books read to him night and day, in all +which he did not want eyes, contrived to teach geometry, +which, one would think, could hardly be done without the +assistance of eyes, telling his scholars how and where to draw +every line. They relate of Asclepiades, a native of Eretria, +and no obscure philosopher, when some one asked him what +inconvenience he suffered from his blindness, that his reply +was, <q>He was at the expense of another servant.</q> So that, +<pb n='471'/><anchor id='Pg471'/> +as the most extreme poverty may be borne, if you please, +as is daily the case with some in Greece; so blindness may +easily be borne, provided you have the support of good health +in other respects. Democritus was so blind he could not +distinguish white from black: but he knew the difference +betwixt good and evil, just and unjust, honourable and base, +the useful and useless, great and small. Thus one may live +happily without distinguishing colours; but without acquainting +yourself with things, you cannot; and this man was of +opinion, that the intense application of the mind was taken off +by the objects that presented themselves to the eye, and while +others often could not see what was before their feet, he +travelled through all infinity. It is reported also that Homer<note place='foot'><p>The +fact of Homer's blindness rests on a passage in the Hymn +to Apollo, quoted by Thucydides as a genuine work of Homer, and +which is thus spoken of by one of the most accomplished scholars that +this country or this age has ever produced:—<q rend='pre'>They are indeed beautiful +verses, and if none worse had ever been attributed to Homer, the Prince +of Poets would have had little reason to complain.</q> +</p> +<p> +<q rend='pre'>He has been describing the Delian festival in honour of Apollo and +Diana, and concludes this part of the poem with an address to the +women of that island, to whom it is to be supposed that he had become +familiarly known by his frequent recitations:</q> +</p> +<p> +Χαίρετε δ᾽ υμεῖς πᾶσαι, ἐμεῖο δὲ καὶ μετόπισθε<lb/> +μνήσασθ᾽, ὅπποτέ κέν τις ἐπιχθονίων ἀνθρώπων<lb/> +ἐνθάδ᾽ ἀνείρηται ξεῖνος ταλαπείριος ἐλθὼν<lb/> +ὦ κοῦραι, τίς δ᾽ ὕμμιν ἀνὴρ ἥδιστος ἀοιδῶν<lb/> +ἐνθάδε πωλεῖται καὶ τέῳ τέρπεσθε μάλιστα?<lb/> +ὑμεῖς δ᾽ εὖ μάλα πᾶσαι ὑποκρίνασθε ἀφ᾽ ἡμῶν,<lb/> +Τυφλὸς ἀνὴρ, οἰκεῖ δὲ Χίῳ ἐνὶ παιπαλοέσσῃ,<lb/> +τοῦ πᾶσαι μετόπισθεν ἀριστεύουσιν ἀοιδαί. +</p> +<p> +Virgins, farewell,—and oh! remember me<lb/> +Hereafter, when some stranger from the sea,<lb/> +A hapless wanderer, may your isle explore,<lb/> +And ask you, <q rend='pre'>Maids, of all the bards you boast,</q><lb/> +<q rend='post'>Who sings the sweetest, and delights you most?</q><lb/> +Oh! answer all,—<q rend='pre'>A blind old man, and poor,</q><lb/> +<q rend='post'>Sweetest he sings, and dwells on Chios' rocky shore.</q> +</p> +<p> +—<hi rend='italic'>Coleridge's Introduction to the Study of the Greek +Classic Poets.</hi> +</p></note> +was blind, but we observe his painting, as well as his poetry. +What country, what coast, what part of Greece, what military +attacks, what dispositions of battle, what army, what ship, +what motions of men and animals can be mentioned which he +has not described in such a manner as to enable us to see what +<pb n='472'/><anchor id='Pg472'/> +he could not see himself? What, then! can we imagine that +Homer, or any other learned man, has ever been in want of +pleasure and entertainment for his mind? Were it not so, +would Anaxagoras, or this very Democritus, have left their +estates and patrimonies, and given themselves up to the pursuit +of acquiring this divine pleasure? It is thus that the +poets who have represented Tiresias the Augur as a wise +man and blind, never exhibit him as bewailing his blindness. +And Homer, too, after he had described Polyphemus as a +monster and a wild man, represents him talking with his ram, +and speaking of his good fortune, inasmuch as he could go +wherever he pleased and touch what he would. And so far +he was right, for that Cyclops was a being of not much more +understanding than his ram. +</p> + +<p> +XL. Now, as to the evil of being deaf: M. Crassus was a +little thick of hearing; but it was more uneasiness to him +that he heard himself ill spoken of, though, in my opinion, he +did not deserve it. Our Epicureans cannot understand Greek, +nor the Greeks Latin: now, they are deaf reciprocally as to +each other's language, and we are all truly deaf with regard +to those innumerable languages which we do not understand. +They do not hear the voice of the harper; but then they do +not hear the grating of a saw when it is setting, or the grunting +of a hog when his throat is being cut, nor the roaring of +the sea when they are desirous of rest. And if they should +chance to be fond of singing, they ought in the first place to +consider that many wise men lived happily before music was +discovered; besides, they may have more pleasure in reading +verses than in hearing them sung. Then, as I before referred +the blind to the pleasures of hearing, so I may the deaf to +the pleasures of sight: moreover, whoever can converse with +himself doth not need the conversation of another. But suppose +all these misfortunes to meet in one person: suppose +him blind and deaf,—let him be afflicted with the sharpest +pains of body, which, in the first place, generally of themselves +make an end of him; still, should they continue so +long, and the pain be so exquisite, that we should be unable +to assign any reason for our being so afflicted,—still, why, +good Gods! should we be under any difficulty? For there is +a retreat at hand: death is that retreat—a shelter where we +shall for ever be insensible. Theodoras said to Lysimachus, +<pb n='473'/><anchor id='Pg473'/> +who threatened him with death, <q>It is a great matter, indeed, +for you to have acquired the power of a Spanish fly!</q> When +Perses entreated Paulus not to lead him in triumph, <q>That is +a matter which you have in your own power,</q> said Paulus. +I said many things about death in our first day's disputation, +when death was the subject; and not a little the next day, +when I treated of pain; which things if you recollect, there +can be no danger of your looking upon death as undesirable, +or at least it will not be dreadful. +</p> + +<p> +That custom which is common among the Grecians at their +banquets should, in my opinion, be observed in life:—Drink, +say they, or leave the company: and rightly enough; for a +guest should either enjoy the pleasure of drinking with +others, or else not stay till he meets with affronts from those +that are in liquor. Thus, those injuries of fortune which you +cannot bear, you should flee from. +</p> + +<p> +XLI. This is the very same which is said by Epicurus and +Hieronymus. Now, if those philosophers, whose opinion it is +that virtue has no power of itself, and who say that the conduct +which we denominate honourable and laudable is really +nothing, and is only an empty circumstance set off with an +unmeaning sound, can nevertheless maintain that a wise +man is always happy, what, think you, may be done by the +Socratic and Platonic philosophers. Some of these allow +such superiority to the goods of the mind, as quite to eclipse +what concerns the body and all external circumstances. But +others do not admit these to be goods; they make everything +depend on the mind: whose disputes Carneades used, as a +sort of honorary arbitrator, to determine. For, as what +seemed goods to the Peripatetics were allowed to be advantages +by the Stoics, and as the Peripatetics allowed no more +to riches, good health, and other things of that sort, than the +Stoics, when these things were considered according to their +reality, and not by mere names, his opinion was that there +was no ground for disagreeing. Therefore, let the philosophers +of other schools see how they can establish this point +also. It is very agreeable to me that they make some professions +worthy of being uttered by the mouth of a philosopher, +with regard to a wise man's having always the means +of living happily. +</p> + +<p> +XLII. But as we are to depart in the morning, let us +<pb n='474'/><anchor id='Pg474'/> +remember these five days' discussions; though, indeed, I +think I shall commit them to writing: for how can I better +employ the leisure which I have, of whatever kind it is, and +whatever it be owing to? and I will send these five books +also to my friend Brutus, by whom I was not only incited to +write on philosophy, but, I may say, provoked. And by so +doing, it is not easy to say what service I may be of to others; +at all events, in my own various and acute afflictions, which +surround me on all sides, I cannot find any better comfort +for myself. +</p> + +<p> +THE END +</p> + +</div> +</div> +</body> +<back rend="page-break-before: right"> + <div id="footnotes"> + <index index="toc" /> + <index index="pdf" /> + <head>Footnotes</head> + <divGen type="footnotes"/> + </div> + <div rend="page-break-before: right"> + <divGen type="pgfooter" /> + </div> +</back> +</text> +</TEI.2> |