Marcus Tullius Cicero, On Duties (tr Walter Miller, 1913)
BOOK I
MORAL GOODNESS
MORAL GOODNESS
{1} I. My dear son Marcus,
you have now been studying a full year under Cratippus, and that too in Athens,
and you should be fully equipped with the practical precepts and the principles
of philosophy; so much at least one might expect from the pre-eminence not only
of your teacher but also of the city; the former is able to enrich you with
learning, the latter to supply you with models. Nevertheless, just as I for my
own improvement have always combined Greek and Latin studies — and I have done
this not only in the study of philosophy but also in the practice of oratory —
so I recommend that you should do the same, so that you may have equal command
of both languages. And it is in this very direction that I have, if I mistake
not, rendered a great service to our countrymen, so that not only those who are
unacquainted with Greek literature but even the cultured consider that they
have gained much both in oratorical power and in mental training.
{2} You will, therefore,
learn from the foremost of present-day philosophers, and you will go on
learning as long as you wish; and your wish ought to continue as long as you
are not dissatisfied with the progress you are making. For all that, if you
will read my philosophical books, you will be helped; my philosophy is not very
different from that of the Peripatetics (for both they and I claim to be
followers of Socrates and Plato). As to the conclusions you may reach, I leave
that to your own judgment (for I would put no hindrance in your way), but by
reading my philosophical writings you will be sure to render your mastery of
the Latin language more complete. But I would by no means have you think that
this is said boastfully. For there are many to whom I yield precedence in the
knowledge of philosophy; but if I lay claim to the orator's peculiar ability to
speak with propriety, clearness, elegance, I think my claim is in a measure
justified, for I have spent my life in that profession.
{3} And therefore, my dear Cicero, I cordially
recommend you to read carefully not only my orations but also these books of
mine on philosophy, which are now about as extensive. For while the orations
exhibit a more vigorous style, yet the unimpassioned, restrained style of my
philosophical productions is also worth cultivating. Moreover, for the same man
to succeed in both departments, both in the forensic style and in that of calm
philosophic discussion has not, I observe, been the good fortune of any one of
the Greeks so far, unless, perhaps, Demetrius of Phalerum can be reckoned in
that number — a clever reasoner, indeed, and, though rather a spiritless
orator, he is yet charming, so that you can recognize in him the disciple of
Theophrastus. But let others judge how much I have accomplished in each
pursuit; I have at least attempted both.
{4} I believe, of course,
that if Plato had been willing to devote himself to forensic oratory, he could
have spoken with the greatest eloquence and power; and that if Demosthenes had
continued the studies he pursued with Plato and had wished to expound his
views, he could have done so with elegance and brilliancy. I feel the same way
about Aristotle and Isocrates, each of whom, engrossed in his own profession,
undervalued that of the other.
II.
But since I have decided to
write you a little now (and a great deal by and by), I wish, if possible, to
begin with a matter most suited at once to your years and to my position.
Although philosophy offers many problems, both important and useful, that have
been fully and carefully discussed by philosophers, those teachings which have
been handed down on the subject of moral duties seem to have the widest
practical application. For no phase of life, whether public or private, whether
in business or in the home, whether one is working on what concerns oneself
alone or dealing with another, can be without its moral duty; on the discharge
of such duties depends all that is morally right, and on their neglect all that
is morally wrong in life.
{5} Moreover, the subject
of this inquiry is the common property of all philosophers; for who would
presume to call himself a philosopher, if he did not inculcate any lessons of
duty? But there are some schools that distort all notions of duty by the
theories they propose touching the supreme good and the supreme evil. For he
who posits the supreme good as having no connection with virtue and measures it
not by a moral standard but by his own interests — if he should be consistent
and not rather at times over-ruled by his better nature, he could value neither
friendship nor justice nor generosity; and brave he surely cannot possibly be
that counts pain the supreme evil, nor temperate he that holds pleasure to be
the supreme good.
{6} Alhough these truths
are so self-evident that the subject does not call for discussion, still I have
discussed it in another connection. If, therefore these schools should claim to
be consistent, they could not say anything about duty; and no fixed,
invariable, natural rules of duty can be posited except by those who say that
moral goodness is worth seeking solely or chiefly for its own sake.
Accordingly, the teaching
of ethics is the peculiar right of the Stoics, the Academicians, and the
Peripatetics; for the theories of Aristo, Pyrrho, and Erillus have been long
since rejected; and vet they would have the right to discuss duty if they had
left us any power of choosing between things, so that there might be a way of
finding out what duty is. I shall, therefore, at this time and in this
investigation follow chiefly the Stoics, not as a translator, but, as is my
custom, I shall at my own option and discretion draw from those sources in such
measure and in such manner as shall suit my purpose.
{7} Since, therefore, the
whole discussion is to be on the subject of duty, I should like at the outset
to define what duty is, as, to my surprise, Panaetius has failed to do. For
every systematic development of any subject ought to begin with a definition,
so that everyone may understand what the discussion is about.
III.
Every treatise on duty has
two parts: one, dealing with the doctrine of the supreme good; the other with
the practical rules by which daily life in all its bearings may be regulated.
The following questions are illustrative of the first part: whether all duties
are absolute; whether one duty is more important than another; and so on. But
as regards special duties for which positive rules are laid down, though they
are affected by the doctrine of the supreme good, still the fact is not so
obvious, because they seem rather to look to the regulation of everyday life;
and it is these special duties that I propose to treat at length in the
following books.
{8} And yet there is still
another classification of duties: we distinguish between "mean", a
duty, so-called, and "absolute" duty. Absolute duty we may, I
presume, call "right," for the Greeks call it katorqoma (katorthoma),[1] while the ordinary duty
they call kaqekon (kathekon). And the
meaning of those terms they fix thus: whatever is right they define as
"absolute" duty, but "mean" duty, they say, is duty for the
performance of which an adequate reason may be rendered.
{9} The consideration
necessary to determine conduct is, therefore, as Panaetius thinks, a threefold
one: first, people question whether the contemplated act is morally right or
morally wrong; and in such deliberation their minds are often led to widely
divergent conclusions. And then they examine and consider the question whether
the action contemplated is or is not conducive to comfort and happiness in
life, to the command of means and wealth, to influence, and to power, by which
they may be able to help themselves and their friends; this whole matter turns
upon a question of expediency. The third type of question arises when that
which seems to be expedient seems to conflict with that which is morally right;
for when expediency seems to be pulling one way, while moral right seems to be
calling back in the opposite direction, the result is that the mind is
distracted in its inquiry and brings to it the irresolution that is born of
deliberation.
{10} Although omission is a
most serious defect in classification, two points have been overlooked in the
foregoing: for we usually consider not only whether an action is morally right
or morally wrong, but also, when a choice of two morally right courses is
offered, which one is morally better; and likewise, when a choice of two
expedients is offered, which one is more expedient. Thus the question which
Panaetius thought threefold ought, we find, to be divided into five parts.
First, therefore, we must discuss the moral — and that, under two sub-heads;
secondly, in the same manner, the expedient; and finally, the cases where they must
be weighed against each other.
{11} IV.
First of all, Nature has
endowed every species of living creature with the instinct of
self-preservation, of avoiding what seems likely to cause injury to life or
limb, and of procuring and providing everything needful for life — food,
shelter, and the like. A common property of all creatures is also the
reproductive instinct (the purpose of which is the propagation of the species)
and also a certain amount of concern for their offspring. But the most marked
difference between man and beast is this: the beast, just as far as it is moved
by the senses and with very little perception of past or future, adapts itself
to that alone which is present at the moment; while man — because he is endowed
with reason, by which he comprehends the chain of consequences, perceives the
causes of things, understands the relation of cause to effect and of effect to
cause, draws analogies, and connects and associates the present and the future
— easily surveys the course of his whole life and makes the necessary
preparations for its conduct strangely tender love for his offspring. She also
prompts men to meet in companies, to form public assemblies and to take part in
them themselves; and she further dictates, as a consequence of this, the effort
on man's part to provide a store of things that minister to his comforts and
wants — and not for himself alone, but for his wife and children and the others
whom he holds dear and for whom he ought to provide; and this responsibility
also stimulates his courage and makes it stronger for the active duties of
life. {13} Above all, the search after truth and its eager pursuit are peculiar
to man. And so, when we have leisure from the demands of business cares, we are
eager to see, to hear, to learn something new, and we esteem a desire to know
the secrets or wonders of creation as indispensable to a happy life. Thus we
come to understand that what is true, simple, and genuine appeals most strongly
to a man's nature. To this passion for discovering truth there is added a
hungering, as it were, for independence, so that a mind well-moulded by Nature
is unwilling to be subject to anybody save one who gives rules of conduct or is
a teacher of truth or who, for the general good, rules according to justice and
law. From this attitude come greatness_of_soul and a sense of superiority to
worldly conditions.
{14} And it is no mean
manifestation of Nature and Reason that man is the only animal that has a
feeling for order, for propriety, for moderation in word and deed. And so no
other animal has a sense of beauty, loveliness, harmony in the visible world;
and Nature and Reason, extending the analogy of this from the world of sense to
the world of spirit, find that beauty, consistency, order are far more to be maintained
in thought and deed, and the same Nature and Reason are careful to do nothing
in an improper or unmanly fashion, and in every thought and deed to do or think
nothing capriciously. It is from these elements that is forged and fashioned
that moral goodness which is the subject of this inquiry — something that, even
though it be not generally ennobled, is still worthy of all honour;[2] and by its own nature, we
correctly maintain, it merits praise even though it be praised by none.
{15} V.
You see here, Marcus, my
son, the very form and as it were the face of Moral Goodness; "and
if," as Plato says, "it could be seen with the physical eye, it would
awaken a marvellous love of wisdom." But all that is morally right rises
from some one of four sources: it is concerned either (1) with the full
perception and intelligent development of the true; or (2) with the
conservation of organized society, with rendering to every man his due, and
with the faithful discharge of obligations assumed; or (3) with the greatness
and strength of a noble and invincible spirit; or (4) with the orderliness and
moderation of everything that is said and done, wherein consist temperance and
self-control. Although these four are connected and interwoven, still it is in
each one considered singly that certain definite kinds of moral duties have
their origin: in that category, for instance, which was designated first in our
division and in which we place wisdom and prudence, belong the search after
truth and its discovery; and this is the peculiar {16} province of that virtue.
For the more clearly anyone observes the most essential truth in any given case
and the more quickly and accurately he can see and explain the reasons for it,
the more understanding and wise he is generally esteemed, and justly so. So,
then, it is truth that is, as it were, the stuff with which this virtue has to
deal and on which it employs itself.
{17} Before the three
remaining virtues, on the other hand, is set the task of providing and
maintaining those things on which the practical business of life depends so
that the relations of man to man in human society may be conserved, and that
largeness and nobility of soul may be revealed not only in increasing one's
resources and acquiring advantages for one's self and one's family but far more
in rising superior to these very things. But orderly behaviour and consistency
of demeanor and self-control and the like have their sphere in that department
of things in which a certain amount of physical exertion, and not mental
activity merely, is required. For if we bring a certain amount of propriety and
order into the transactions of daily life, we shall be conserving moral
rectitude and moral dignity.
{18} VI.
Now, of the four divisions
which we have made of the essential idea of moral goodness, the first,
consisting in the knowledge of truth, touches human nature most closely. For we
are all attracted and drawn to a zeal for learning and knowing; and we think it
glorious to excel therein, while we count it base and immoral to fall into
error, to wander from the truth, to be ignorant, to be led astray. In this
pursuit, which is both natural and morally right, two errors are to be avoided:
first, we must not treat the unknown as known and too readily accept it; and he
who wishes to avoid this error (as all should do) will devote both time and
attention
{19} to the weighing of
evidence. The other error is that some people devote too much industry and too
deep study to matters that are obscure and difficult and useless as well. If
these errors are successfully avoided, all the labour and pains expended upon
problems that are morally right and worth the solving will be fully rewarded.
Such a worker in the field of astronomy, for example, was Gaius Sulpicius, of
whom we have heard; in mathematics, Sextus Pompey, whom I have known
personally; in dialectics, many; in civil law, still more. All these
professions are occupied with the search after truth; but to be drawn by study
away from active life is contrary to moral duty. For the whole glory of virtue
is in activity; activity, however, may often be interrupted, and many
opportunities for returning to study are opened. Besides, the working of the
mind, which is never at rest, can keep us busy in the pursuit of knowledge even
without conscious effort on our part. Moreover, all our thought and mental
activity will be devoted either to planning for things that are morally right
and that conduce to a good and happy life, or to the pursuits of science and
learning. With this we close the discussion of the first source of duty.
{20} VII.
Of the three remaining
divisions, the most extensive in its application is the principle by which
society and what we may call its "common bonds" are maintained. Of
this again there are two divisions — justice, in which is the crowning glory of
the virtues and on the basis of which men are called "good men"; and,
close akin to justice, charity, which may also be called kindness or
generosity. The first office of justice is to keep one man from doing harm to
another, unless provoked by wrong; and the next is to lead men to use common
possessions for the common interests, private property for their own.
{21} There is, however, no
such thing as private ownership established by nature, but property becomes
private either through long occupancy (as in the case of those who long ago
settled in unoccupied territory) or through conquest (is in the case of those
who took it in war) or by due process of law, bargain, or purchase, or by
allotment. On this principle the lands of Arpinum are said to belong to the
Arpinates, the Tusculan lands to the Tusculans; and similar is the assignment
of private property. Therefore, inasmuch as in each case some of those things
which by nature had been common property became the property of individuals,
each one should retain possession of that which has fallen to his lot; and if
anyone appropriates to himself anything beyond that, he will be violating the
laws of human society.
{22} But since, as Plato
has admirably expressed it, we are not born for ourselves alone, but our
country claims a share of our being, and our friends a share; and since, as the
Stoics hold, everything that the earth produces is created for man's use; and
as men, too, are born for the sake of men, that they may be able mutually to
help one another; in this direction we ought to follow Nature as our guide, to
contribute to the general good by an interchange of acts of kindness, by giving
and receiving, and thus by our skill, our industry, and our talents to cement
human society more closely together, man to man.
{23} The foundation of
justice, moreover, is good_faith; — that is, truth and fidelity to promises and
agreements. And therefore we may follow the Stoics, who diligently investigate
the etymology of words; and we may accept their statement that "good
faith" is so called because what is promised is "made good,"
although some may find this derivation/a rather farfetched. There are, on the
other hand, two kinds of injustice — the one, on the part of those who inflict
wrong, the other on the part of those who, when they can, do not shield from
wrong those upon whom it is being inflicted. For he who, under the influence of
anger or some other passion, wrongfully assaults another seems, as it were, to
be laying violent hands upon a comrade; but he who does not prevent or oppose
wrong, if he can, is just as guilty of wrong as if he deserted his parents or
his friends or his country.
{24} Then, too, those very
wrongs which people try to inflict on purpose to injure are often the result of
fear: that is, he who premeditates injuring another is afraid that, if he does
not do so, he may himself be made to suffer some hurt. But, for the most part,
people are led to wrong-doing in order to secure some personal end; in this
vice, avarice is generally the controlling motive.
{25} VIII.
Again, men seek riches
partly to supply the needs of life, partly to secure the enjoyment of pleasure.
With those who cherish higher ambitions, the desire for wealth is entertained
with a view to power and influence and the means of bestowing favours; Marcus
Crassus, for example, not long since declared that no amount of wealth was
enough for the man who aspired to be the foremost citizen of the state, unless
with the income from it he could maintain an army. Fine establishments and the
comforts of life in elegance and abundance also afford pleasure, and the desire
to secure it gives rise to the insatiable thirst for wealth. Still, I do not
mean to find fault with the accumulation of property, provided it hurts nobody,
but unjust acquisition of it is always to be avoided. {26} The great majority
of people, however, when they fall a prey to ambition for either military or
civil authority, are carried away by it so completely that they quite lose
sight of the claims of justice. For Ennius says:
There is no fellowship
inviolate,
No faith is kept, when kingship is concerned;
No faith is kept, when kingship is concerned;
and the truth of his words
has an uncommonly wide application. For whenever a situation is of such a
nature that not more than one can hold preeminence in it, competition for it
usually becomes so keen that it is an extremely difficult matter to maintain a
"fellowship inviolate." We saw this proved but now in the effrontery
of Gaius Caesar, who, to gain that sovereign power which by a depraved
imagination he had conceived in his fancy, trod underfoot all laws of gods and
men. But the trouble about this matter is that it is in the greatest souls and
in the most brilliant geniuses that we usually find ambitions for civil and
military authority, for power, and for glory, springing; and therefore we must
be the more heedful not to go wrong in that direction.
{27} But in any case of
injustice it makes a vast deal of difference whether the wrong is done as a
result of some impulse of passion, which is usually brief and transient, or
whether it is committed wilfully and with premeditation; for offences that come
through some sudden impulse are less culpable than those committed designedly
and with malice aforethought. But enough has been said on the subject of
inflicting injury.
{28} IX.
The motives for failure to
prevent injury and so for slighting duty are likely to be various: people
either are reluctant to incur enmity or trouble or expense; or through
indifference, indolence, or incompetence, or through some preoccupation or
self- interest they are so absorbed that they suffer those to be neglected whom
it is their duty to protect. And so there is reason to fear that what Plato
declares of the philosophers may be inadequate, when he says that they are just
because they are busied with the pursuit of truth and because they despise and
count as naught that which most men eagerly seek and for which they are prone
to do battle against each other to the death. For they secure one sort of
justice, to be sure, in that they do no positive wrong to anyone, but they fall
into the opposite injustice; for hampered by their pursuit of learning they
leave to their fate those whom they ought to defend. And so, Plato thinks, they
will not even assume their civic duties except under compulsion. But in fact it
were better that they should assume them of their own accord; for an action
intrinsically right is just only on condition that it is voluntary.
{29} There are some also
who, either from zeal in attending to their own business or through some sort
of aversion to their fellow-men, claim that they are occupied solely with their
own affairs, without seeming to themselves to be doing anyone any injury. But
while they steer clear of the one kind of injustice, they fall into the other:
they are traitors to social life, for they contribute to it none of their
interest, none of their effort, none of their means. Now since we have set
forth the two kinds of injustice and assigned the motives that lead to each,
and since we have previously established the principles by which justice is
constituted, we shall be in a position easily to decide what our duty on each
occasion is, unless we are extremely self-centred; for {30} indeed it is not an
easy matter to be really concerned with other people's affairs; and yet in
Terence's play, we know, Chremes "thinks that nothing that concerns man is
foreign to him." Nevertheless, when things turn out for our own good or
ill, we realize it more fully and feel it more deeply than when the same things
happen to others and we see them only, as it were, in the far distance; and for
this reason we judge their case differently from our own. It is, therefore, an
excellent rule that they give who bid us not to do a thing, when there is a
doubt whether it be right or wrong; for righteousness shines with a brilliance
of its own, but doubt is a sign that we are thinking of a possible wrong.
{31} X.
But occasions often arise,
when those duties which seem most becoming to the just man and to the
"good man," as we call him, undergo a change and take on a contrary
aspect. It may, for example, not be a duty to restore a trust or to fulfil a
promise, and it may become right and proper sometimes to evade and not to
observe what truth and honour would usually demand. For we may well be guided
by those fundamental principles of justice which I laid down at the outset:
first, that no harm be done to anyone; second, that the common interests be
conserved. When these are modified under changed circumstances, moral duty also
undergoes a change {32} and it does not always remain the same. For a given
promise or agreement may turn out in such a way that its performance will prove
detrimental either to the one to whom the promise has been made or to the one
who has made it. If, for example, Neptune, in the drama, had not carried out
his promise to Theseus, Theseus would not have lost his son Hippolytus; for, as
the story runs, of the three wishes/a that Neptune had promised to grant him
the third was this: in a fit of anger he prayed for the death of Hippolytus,
and the granting of this prayer plunged him into unspeakable grief. Promises
are, therefore, not to be kept, if the keeping of them is to prove harmful to
those to whom you have made them; and, if the fulfilment of a promise should do
more harm to you than good to him to whom you have made it, it is no violation
of moral duty to give the greater good precedence over the lesser good. For
example, if you have made an appointment with anyone to appear as his advocate
in court, and if in the meantime your son should fall dangerously ill, it would
be no breach of your moral duty to fail in what you agreed to do; nay, rather,
he to whom your promise was given would have a false conception of duty if he
should complain that he had been deserted in time of need. Further than this,
who fails to see that those promises are not binding which are extorted by
intimidation or which we make when misled by false pretences? Such obligations
are annulled in most cases by the praetor's edict in equity,/a in some cases by
the laws.
{33} Injustice often arises
also through chicanery, that is, through an over-subtle and even fraudulent
construction of the law. This it is that gave rise to the now familiar saw,
"More law, less justice." Through such interpretation also a great
deal of wrong is committed in transactions between state and state; thus, when
a truce had been made with the enemy for thirty days, a famous general/a went
to ravaging their fields by night, because, he said, the truce stipulated
"days," not nights. Not even our own countryman's action is to be
commended, if what is told of Quintus Fabius Labeo is true — or whoever it was
(for I have no authority but hearsay): appointed by the Senate to arbitrate a
boundary dispute between Nola and Naples, he took up the case and interviewed
both parties separately, asking them not to proceed in a covetous or grasping
spirit, but to make some concession rather than claim some accession. When each
party had agreed to this, there was a considerable strip of territory left
between them. And so he set the boundary of each city as each had severally
agreed; and the tract in between he awarded to the Roman People. Now that is
swindling, not arbitration. And therefore such sharp practice is under all
circumstances to be avoided.
XI.
Again, there are certain
duties that we owe even to those who have wronged us. For there is a limit to
retribution and to punishment; or rather, I am inclined to think, it is
sufficient that the aggressor should be brought to repent of his wrong-doing,
in order that he may not repeat the offence and that others may be deterred
from doing wrong.
{34} Then, too, in the case
of a state in its external relations, the rights of war must be strictly
observed. For since there are two ways of settling a dispute: first, by
discussion; second; by physical force; and since the former is characteristic
of man, the latter of the brute, we must resort to force only in case {35} we
may not avail ourselves of discussion. The only excuse, therefore, for going to
war is that we may live in peace unharmed; and when the victory is won, we
should spare those who have not been blood-thirsty and barbarous in their
warfare. For instance, our forefathers actually admitted to full rights of
citizenship the Tusculans, Acquians, Volscians, Sabines, and Hernicians, but
they razed Carthage and Numantia to the ground. I wish they had not destroyed
Corinth; but I believe they had some special reason for what they did — its
convenient situation, probably — and feared that its very location might some
day furnish a temptation to renew the war. In my opinion, at least, we should
always strive to secure a peace that shall not admit of guile. And if my advice
had been heeded on this point, we should still have at least some sort of
constitutional government, if not the best in the world, whereas, as it is, we
have none at all. Not only must we show consideration for those whom we have
conquered by force of arms but we must also ensure protection to those who lay
down their arms and throw themselves upon the mercy of our generals, even
though the battering-ram has hammered at their walls. And among our countrymen
justice has been observed so conscientiously in this direction, that those who
have given promise of protection to states or nations subdued in war become,
after the custom of our forefathers, the patrons of those states.
{36} As for war, humane
laws touching it are drawn up in the fetial code of the Roman People under all
the guarantees of religion; and from this it may be gathered that no war is
just, unless it is entered upon after an official demand for satisfaction has
been submitted or warning has been given and a formal declaration made. Popilius
was general in command of a province. In his army Cato's son was serving on his
first campaign. When Popilius decided to disband one of his legions, he
discharged also young Cato, who was serving in that same legion. But when the
young man out of love for the service stayed on in the field, his father wrote
to Popilius to say that if he let him stay in the army, he should swear him
into service with a new oath of allegiance, for in view of the voidance of his
former oath he could not legally fight the foe. So extremely scrupulous was the
observance of the laws in regard to the {37} conduct of war. There is extant,
too, a letter of the elder Marcus Cato to his son Marcus, in which he writes
that he has heard that the youth has been discharged by the consul, when he was
serving in Macedonia in the war with Perseus. He warns him, therefore, to be
careful not to go into battle; for, he says, the man who is not legally a
soldier has no right to be fighting the foe. XII. This also I observe — that he
who would properly have been called "a fighting enemy" (perduyellis)
was called "a guest" (hostis), thus relieving the ugliness of the
fact by a softened expression; for "enemy" (hostis) meant to our
ancestors what we now call "stranger "(peregrinus). This is proved by
the usage in the Twelve Tables: "Or a day fixed for trial with a
stranger" (hostis). And again: "Right of ownership is inalienable for
ever in dealings with a stranger" (hostis). What can exceed such charity,
when he with whom one is at war is called by so gentle a name? And yet long
lapse of time has given that word a harsher meaning: for it has lost its
signification of "stranger" and has taken on the technical
connotation of "an enemy under arms."
{38} But when a war is
fought out for supremacy and when glory is the object of war, it must still not
fail to start from the same motives which I said a moment ago were the only
righteous grounds for going to war. But those wars which have glory for their
end must be carried on with less bitterness. For we contend, for example, with
a fellow-citizen in one way, if he is a personal enemy, in another, if he is a
rival: with the rival it is a struggle for office and position, with the enemy
for life and honour. So with the Celtiberians and the Cimbrians we fought as
with deadly enemies, not to determine which should be supreme, but which should
survive; but with the Latins, Sabines, Samnites, Carthaginians, and Pyrrhus we
fought for supremacy. The Carthaginians violated treaties; Hannibal was cruel;
the others were more merciful. From Pyrrhus we have this famous speech on the
exchange of prisoners:
"Gold will I none, nor
price shall ye give; for I ask none;
Come, let us not be chaff'rers of war, but warriors embattled.
Nay; let us venture our lives, and the sword, not gold, weigh the outcome.
Make we the trial by valour in arms and see if Dame Fortune
Wills it that ye shall prevail or I, or what be her judgment.
Hear thou, too, this word, good Fabricius: whose valour soever
Spared hath been by the fortune of war — their freedom I grant them.
Such my resolve. I give and present them to you, my brave Romans;
Take them back to their homes; the great gods' blessings attend you."
Come, let us not be chaff'rers of war, but warriors embattled.
Nay; let us venture our lives, and the sword, not gold, weigh the outcome.
Make we the trial by valour in arms and see if Dame Fortune
Wills it that ye shall prevail or I, or what be her judgment.
Hear thou, too, this word, good Fabricius: whose valour soever
Spared hath been by the fortune of war — their freedom I grant them.
Such my resolve. I give and present them to you, my brave Romans;
Take them back to their homes; the great gods' blessings attend you."
A right kingly sentiment
this and worthy a scion of the Aeacidae.
{39} XIII.
Again, if under stress of
circumstance individuals have made any promise to the enemy, they are bound to
keep their word even then. For instance, in the First Punic War, when Regulus
was taken prisoner by the Carthaginians, he was sent to Rome on parole to negotiate
an exchange of prisoners; he came and, in the first place, it was he that made
the motion in the Sen ate that the prisoners should not be restored; and in the
second place, when his relatives and friends would have kept him back, he chose
to return to a death by torture rather than prove false to his promise, though
given to an enemy.
{40} And again in the
Second Punic War, after the Battle of Cannae, Hannibal sent to Rome ten Roman
captives bound by an oath to return to him, if they did not succeed in ransoming
his prisoners; and as long as any one of them lived, the censors kept them all
degraded and disfranchised, because they were guilty of perjury in not
returning. And they punished in like manner the one who had incurred guilt by
an evasion of his oath: with Hannibal's permission this man left the camp and
returned a litttle later on the pretext that he had forgotten something or
other; and then, when he left the camp the second time, he claimed that he was
released from the obligation of his oath; and so he was, according to the
letter of it, but not according to the spirit. In the matter of a promise one
must always consider the meaning and not the mere words. Our forefathers have
given us another striking example of justice toward an enemy: when a deserter
from Pyrrhus promised the Senate to administer poison to the king and thus work
his death, the Senate and Gaius Fabricius delivered the deserter up to Pyrrhus.
Thus they stamped with their disapproval the treacherous murder even of an
enemy who was at once powerful, unprovoked, aggressive, and successful.
{41} With this I will close
my discussion of the duties connected with war. But let us remember that we
must have regard for justice even towards the humblest. Now the humblest
station and the poorest fortune are those of slaves; and they give us no bad
rule who bid us treat our slaves as we should our employees: they must be
required to work; they must be given their dues. While wrong may be done, then,
in either of two ways, that is, by force or by fraud, both are bestial: fraud
seems to belong to the cunning fox, force to the lion; both are wholly unworthy
of man, but fraud is the more contemptible. But of all forms of injustice, none
is more flagrant than that of the hypocrite who, at the very moment when he is
most false, makes it his business to appear virtuous. This must conclude our
discussion of justice.
{42} XIV.
Next in order, as outlined
above, let us speak of kindness and generosity. Nothing appeals more to the
best in human nature than this, but it calls for the exercise of caution in
many particulars: we must, in the first place, see to it that our act of
kindness shall not prove an injury either to the object of our beneficence or
to others; in the second place, that it shall not be beyond our means; and
finally, that it shall be proportioned to the worthiness of the recipient; for
this is the corner-stone of justice; and by the standard of justice all acts of
kindness must be measured. For those who confer a harmful favour upon someone
whom they seemingly wish to help are to be accounted not generous benefactors
but dangerous sycophants; and likewise those who injure one man, in order to be
generous to another, are guilty of the same injustice as if they diverted to
their own accounts the property of their neighbours.
{43} Now, there are many —
and especially those who are ambitious for eminence and glory — who rob one to
enrich another; and they expect to be thought generous towards their friends,
if they put them in the way of getting rich, no matter by what means. Such
conduct, however, is so remote from moral duty that nothing can be more
completely opposed to duty. We must, therefore, take care to indulge only in
such liberality as will help our friends and hurt no one. The conveyance of
property by Lucius Sulla and Gaius Caesar from its rightful owners to the hands
of strangers should, for that reason, not be regarded as generosity; for
nothing is generous if it is not at the same time, just.
{44} The second point for
the exercise of caution was that our beneficence should not exceed our means;
for those who wish to be more open-handed than their circumstances permit are
guilty of two faults: first they do wrong to their next of kin; for they
transfer to strangers property which would more justly be placed at their
service or bequeathed to them. And second, such generosity too often engenders
a passion for plundering and misappropriating property, in order to supply the
means for making large gifts. We may also observe that a great many people do
many things that seem to be inspired more by a spirit of ostentation than by
heart-felt kindness; for such people are not really generous but are rather
influenced by a sort of ambition to make a show of being open-handed. Such a
pose is nearer akin to hypocrisy than to generosity or moral goodness.
{45} The third rule laid
down was that in acts of kindness we should weigh with discrimination the
worthiness of the object of our benevolence; we should take into consideration
his moral character, his attitude toward us, the intimacy of his relation to
us, and our common social ties, as well as the services he has hitherto
rendered in our interest. It is to be desired that all these considerations
should be combined in the same person; if they are not, then the more numerous
and the more important considerations must have the greater weight.
{46} XV.
Now, the men we live with
are not perfect and ideally wise, but men who do very well, if there be found
in them but the semblance of virtue. I therefore think that this is to be taken
for granted that no one should be entirely neglected who shows any trace of
virtue; but the more a man is endowed with these finer virtues — temperance,
self-control, and that very justice about which so much has already been said —
the more he deserves to be favoured. I do not mention fortitude, for a
courageous spirit in a man who has not attained perfection and ideal wisdom is
generally too impetuous; it is those other virtues that seem more particularly
to mark the good man. So much in regard to the character of the object of our
beneficence. {47} But as to the affection which anyone may have for us, it is
the first demand of duty that we do most for him who loves us most; but we
should measure affection, not like youngsters, by the ardour of its passion,
but rather by its strength and constancy . But if there shall be obligations
already incurred, so that kindness is not to begin with us, but to be requited,
still greater diligence, it seems, is called for; for no duty is more
imperative that that of proving one's gratitude.
{48} But if, as Hesiod
bids, one is to repay with interest, if possible, what one has borrowed in time
of need, what, pray, ought we to do when challenged by an unsought kindness?
Shall we not imitate the fruitful fields, which return more than they receive?
For if we do not hesitate to confer favours upon those who we hope will be of
help to us, how ought we to deal with those who have already helped us? For
generosity is of two kinds: doing a kindness and requiting one. Whether we do
the kindness or not is optional; but to fail to requite one is not allowable to
a good man, provided he can make the requital without violating the rights of
others.
{49} Furthermore, we must
make some discrimination between favours received; for, as a matter of course
the greater the favour, the greater is the obligation. But in deciding this we
must above all give due weight to the spirit, the devotion, the affection that
prompted the favour. For many people often do favours impulsively for everybody
without discrimination, prompted by a morbid sort of benevolence or by a sudden
impulse of the heart, shifting the wind. Such acts of generosity are not to be
so highly esteemed as those which are performed with judgment deliberation, and
mature consideration. But in bestowing a kindness, as well as in making a
requital, the first rule of duty requires us — other things being equal — to
lend assistance preferably to people in proportion to their individual need.
Most people adopt the contrary course: they put themselves most eagerly at the
service of the one from whom they hope to receive the greatest favours even
though he has no need of their help.
{50} XVI.
The interests of society,
however, and its common bonds will be best conserved, if kindness be shown to
each individual in proportion to the closeness of his relationship. But it
seems we must trace back to their ultimate sources the principles of fellowship
and society that Nature has established among men. The first principle is that
which is found in the connection subsisting between all the members of the
human race; and that bond of connection is reason and speech, which by the
processes of teaching and learning, of communicating, discussing, and reasoning
associate men together and unite them in a sort of natural fraternity. In no
other particular are we farther removed from the nature of beasts; for we admit
that they may have courage (horses and lions, for example); but we do not admit
that they have justice, equity, and goodness; for they are not endowed with
reason or speech. {51} This, then, is the most comprehensive bond that unites
together men as men and all to all; and under it the common right to all things
that Nature has produced for the common use of man is to be maintained, with
the understanding that, while everything assigned as private property by the
statutes and by civil law shall be so held as prescribed by those same laws,
everything else shall be regarded in the light indicated by the Greek proverb:
"Amongst friends all things in common."[3]
Furthermore, we find the
common property of all men in things of the sort defined by Ennius; and, though
restricted by him to one instance, the principle may be applied very generally:
Who kindly sets a wand'rer
on his way
Does e'en as if he lit another's lamp by his:
No less shines his, when he his friend's hath lit.
Does e'en as if he lit another's lamp by his:
No less shines his, when he his friend's hath lit.
In this example he
effectively teaches us all to bestow even upon a stranger what it costs us
nothing to give.
{52} On this principle we
have the following maxims: "Deny no one the water that flows by;"
"Let anyone who will take fire from our fire;" "Honest counsel
give to one who is in doubt;" — for such acts are useful to the recipient
and cause the giver no loss. We should, therefore, adopt these principles and
always be contributing something to the common weal. But since the resources of
individuals are limited and the number of the needy is infinite, this spirit of
universal liberality must be regulated according to that test of Ennius —
"No less shines his" — in order that we may continue to have the
means for being generous to our friends.
{53} XVII.
Then, too, there are a
great many degrees of closeness or remoteness in human society. To proceed
beyond the universal bond of our common humanity, there is the closer one of
belonging to the same people, tribe, and tongue, by which men are very closely
bound together; it is a still closer relation to be citizens of the same
city-state; for fellow-citizens have much in common — forum, temples
colonnades, streets, statutes, laws, courts, rights of suffrage, to say nothing
of social and friendly circles and diverse business relations with many. But a
still closer social union exists between kindred. Starting with that infinite
bond of union of the human race in general, the conception is now confined {54}
to a small and narrow circle. For since the reproductive instinct is by
Nature's gift the common possession of all living creatures, the first bond of
union is that between husband and wife; the next, that between parents and
children; then we find one home, with everything in common. And this is the
foundation of civil government, the nursery, as it were, of the state. Then
follow the bonds between brothers and sisters, and next those of first and then
of second cousins; and when they can no longer be sheltered under one roof,
they go out into other homes, as into colonies. Then follow between these in
turn, marriages and connections by marriage, and from these again a new stock
of relations; and from this propagation and after-growth states have their
beginnings. The bonds of common blood hold men {55} fast through good-will and
affection; for it means much to share in common the same family traditions the
same forms of domestic worship, and the same ancestral tombs. But of all the
bonds of fellowship, there is none more noble, none more powerful than when
good men of congenial character are joined in intimate friendship; for really,
if we discover in another that moral goodness on which I dwell so much, it
attracts us and makes us friends to the one in whose character {56} it seems to
dwell. And while every virtue attracts us and makes us love those who seem to
possess it, still justice and generosity do so most of all. Nothing, moreover,
is more conducive to love and intimacy than compatibility of character in good
men; for when two people have the same ideals and the same tastes, it is a
natural consequence that each loves the other as himself; and the result is, as
Pythagoras requires of ideal friendship, that several are united in one.
Another strong bond of fellowship is effected by mutual interchange of kind
services; and as long as these kindnesses are mutual and acceptable, those
between whom they are interchanged are united by the ties of an enduring
intimacy.
{57} But when with a
rational spirit you have surveyed the whole field, there is no social relation
among them all more close, none more close, none more dear than that which
links each one of us with our country. Parents are dear; dear are children,
relatives, friends; one native land embraces all our loves; and who that is
true would hesitate to give his life for her, if by his death he could render
her a service? So much the more execrable are those monsters who have torn
their fatherland to pieces with every form of outrage and who are/a and have
been/b engaged in compassing her utter destruction.
{58} Now, if a contrast and
comparison were to be made to find out where most of our moral obligation is
due, country would come first, and parents; for their services have laid us
under the heaviest obligation; next come children and the whole family, who
look to us alone for support and can have no other protection; finally, our
kinsmen, with whom we live on good terms and with whom, for the most part, our
lot is one. All needful material assistance is, therefore, due first of all to
those whom I have named; but intimate relationship of life and living, counsel,
conversation, encouragement, comfort, and sometimes even reproof flourish best
in friendships. And that friendship is sweetest which is cemented by
congeniality of character.
{59} XVIII
But in the performance of
all these duties we shall have to consider what is most needful in each
individual case and what each individual person can or cannot procure without
our help. In this way we shall find that the claims of social relation,hip, in
its various degrees, are not identical with the the dictates of circumstances;
for there are obligations that are due to one individual rather than to
another: for example, one would sooner assist a neighbour in gathering his
harvest than either a brother or a friend; but should it be a caes in court,
one would defend a kinsman and a friend rather than a neighbour. Such questions
as these must, therefore, be taken into consideration in every act of moral
duty [and we must acquire the habit and keep it up], in order to become good
calculators of duty, able by adding and subtracting to strike a balance
correctly and find out just how much is due to each individual. {60} But as
neither physicians nor generals nor orators can achieve any signal success
without experience and practice, no matter how well they may understand the
theory of their profession, so the rules for the discharge of duty are
formulated, it is true, as I am doing now, but a matter of such importance
requires experience also and practice. This must close our discussion of the
ways in which moral goodness, on which duty depends, is developed from those
principles which hold good in human society. {61} We must realize, however,
that while we bave set down four cardinal virtues from which as sources moral
rectitude and moral duty emanate, that achievement is most glorious in the eyes
of the world which is won with a spirit great, exalted, and superior to the
vicissitudes of earthly life. And so, when we wish to hurl a taunt, the very
first to rise to our lips is, if possible, something like this:
"For ye, young men,
show a womanish soul, yon maiden a man's;"
and this:
"Thou son of Salmacis,
win spoils that cost nor sweat nor blood."
When, on the other hand, we
wish to pay a compliment, we somehow or other praise in more eloquent strain
the brave and noble work of some great soul. Hence there is an open field for
orators on the subjects of Marathon, Salamis, Plataea, Thermopylae, and
Leuctra, and hence our own Cocles, the Decii, Gnaeus and Publius Scipio, Marcus
Marcellus, and countless others, and, above all, the Roman People as a nation
are celebrated for greatness of spirit. Their passion for military glory,
moreover, is shown in the fact that we see their statues usually in soldier's
garb.
{62} XIX.
But if the exaltation of
spirit seen in times of danger and toil is devoid of justice and fights for
selfish ends instead of for the common good, it is a vice; for not only has it
no element of virtue, but its nature is barbarous and revolting to all our
finer feelings. The Stoics, therefore, correctly define courage as "that
virtue which champions the cause of right." Accordingly, no one has
attained to true glory who has gained a reputation for courage by treachery and
cunning; for nothing that lacks justice can be morally right.
{63} This, then, is a fine
saying of Plato's: "Not only must all knowledge that is divorced from
justice be called cunning rather than wisdom," he says, "but even the
courage that is prompt to face danger, if it is inspired not by public spirit,
but by its own selfish purposes, should have the name of effrontery rather than
of courage." And so we demand that men who are courageous and high-souled
shall at the same time be good and straightforward, lovers of truth, and foes
to deception; for these qualities are the centre and soul of justice.
{64} But the mischief is
that from this exaltation and greatness of spirit spring all too readily
self-will and excessive lust for power. For just as Plato tells us that the
whole national character of the Spartans was on fire with passion for victory,
so, in the same way, the more notable a man is for his greatness of spirit, the
more ambitious he is to be the foremost citizen, or, I should say rather, to be
sole ruler. But when one begins to aspire to pre-eminence, it is difficult to
preserve that spirit of fairness which is absolutely essential to justice. The
result is that such men do not allow themselves to be constrained either by
argument or by any public and lawful authority; but they only too often prove
to be bribers and agitators in public life, seeking to obtain supreme power and
to be superiors through force rather than equals through justice. But the
greater the difficulty, the greater the glory; for no occasion arises that can
excuse a man for being guilty of injustice. {65} So then, not those who do
injury but those who prevent it are to be considered brave and courageous. Moreover,
true and philosophic greatness of spirit regards the moral goodness to which
Nature most aspires as consisting in deeds, not in fame, and prefers to be
first in reality rather than in name. And we must approve this view; for he who
depends upon the caprice of the ignorant rabble cannot be numbered among the
great. Then, too, the higher a man's ambition, the more easily he is tempted to
acts of injustice by his desire for fame. We are now, to be sure, on very
slippery ground; for scarcely can the man be found who has passed through
trials and encountered dangers and does not then wish for glory as a reward for
his achievements.
{66} XX.
The soul that is altogether
courageous and great is marked above all by two characteristics: one of these
is indifference to outward circumstances; for such a person cherishes the
conviction that nothing but moral goodness and propriety deserves to be either
admired or wished for or striven after, and that he ought not to be subject to
any man or any passion or any accident of fortune. The second characteristic is
that, when the soul is disciplined in the way above mentioned, one should do
deeds not only great and in the highest degree useful, but extremely arduous
and laborious and fraught with danger both to life and to many things that make
life worth living.
{67} All the glory and
greatness and, I may add, all the usefulness of these two characteristics of
courage are centred in the latter; the rational cause that makes men great, in
the former. For it is the former that contains the element that makes souls
pre-eminent and indifferent to worldly fortune. And this qualitity is
distinguished by two criteria: (1) if one account moral rectitude as the only
good; and (2) if one be free from all passion. For we must agree that it takes
a brave and heroic soul to hold as slight what most people think grand and
glorious, and to disregard it from fixed and settled principles. And it
requires strength of character and great singlenesss of purpose to bear what
seems painful, as it comes to pass in many and various forms in human life, and
to bear it so unflinchingly as not to be shaken in the least from one's natural
state of the dignity of a {68} philosopher. Moreover, it would be inconsistent
for the man who is not overcome by fear to be overcome by desire, or for the
man who has shown himself invincible to toil to be conquered by pleasure. We
must, therefore, not only avoid the latter, but also beware of ambition for
wealth; for there is nothing so characteristic of narrowness and littleness of
soul as the love of riches; and there is nothing more honourable and noble than
to be indifferent to money, if one does not possess it, and to devote it to
beneficence and liberality, if one does possess it. As I said before, we must
also beware of ambition for glory; for it robs us of liberty, and in defence of
liberty a high-souled man should stake everything. And one ought not to seek
military authority; nay, rather it ought sometimes to be declined,
{69} Again, we must keep
ourselves free from every disturbing emotion, not only from desire and fear,
but also from excessive pain and pleasure, and from anger, so that we may enjoy
that calm of soul and freedom from care which bring both moral stability and dignity
of character. But there have been many and still are many who, while pursuing
that calm of soul of which I speak, have withdrawn from civic duty and taken
refuge in retirement. Among such have been found the most famous and by far the
foremost philosophers/c and certain other/d earnest, thoughtful men who could
not endure the conduct of either the people or their leaders; some of them,
too, lived in the country and found their pleasure in the management {70}of
their private estates. Such men have had the same aims as kings — to suffer no
want, to be subject to no authority, to enjoy their liberty, that is, in its
essence, to live just as they please.
XXI.
So, while this desire is
common to men of political ambitions and men of retirement, of whom I have just
spoken, the one class think they can attain their end if they secure large
means; the other, if they are content with the little they have. And, in this
matter, neither way of thinking is altogether to be condemned; but the life of
retirement is easier and safer and at the same time less burdensome or
troublesome to others, while the career of those who apply themselves to
statecraft and to conducting great enterprises is more profitable to mankind
and contributes more to their own greatness and renown.
{71} So perbaps those men
of extraordinary genius who have devoted themselves to learning must be excused
for not taking part in public affairs; likewise, those who from ill-health or
for some still more valid reason have retired from the service of the state and
left to others the opportunity and the glory of its administration. But if
those who have no such excuse profess a scorn for civil and military offices,
which most people admire, I think that this should be set down not to their
credit but to their discredit; for in so far as they care little, as they say,
for glory and count it as naught, it is difficult not to sympathize with their
attitude; in reality however, they seem to dread the toil and trouble and also,
perhaps, the discredit and humiliation of political failure and defeat. For
there are people who in opposite circumstances do not act consistently: they
have the utmost contempt for pleasure but in pain they are too sensitive; they
are indifferent to glory, but they are crushed by disgrace and even in their
inconsistency they show no great consistency.
{72} But those whom Nature
has endowed with the capacity for administering public affairs should put aside
all hesitation, enter the race for public office and take a hand in directing
the government; for in no other way can a government be administered or
greatness of spirit be made manifest. Statesmen too, no less than philosophers
— perhaps even more so — should carry with them that greatness of spirit and
indifference to outward circumstances to which I so often refer, together with
calm of soul and freedom from care, if they are to be free from worries {73}
and lead a dignified and self-consistent life. This is easier for the
philosophers; as their life is less exposed to the assaults of fortune, their
wants are fewer; and, if any misfortune overtakes them, their fall is not so
disastrous. Not without reason, therefore, are stronger emotions aroused in
those who engage in public life than in those who live in retirement, and
greater is their ambition for success; the more, therefore, do they need to
enjoy greatness of spirit and freedom from annoying cares. If anyone is
entering public life, let him beware of thinking only of the honour that it
brings; but let him be sure also that he has the ability to succeed. At the
same time, let him take care not to lose heart too readily through
discouragement nor yet to be over-confident through ambition. In a word, before
undertaking any enterprise, careful preparation must be made.
{74} XXII.
Most people think that the
achievements of war are more important than those of peace; but this opinion
needs to be corrected. For many men have sought occasions for war from the mere
ambition for fame. This is notably the case with men of great spirit and
natural ability, and it is the more likely to happen, if they are adapted to a
soldier's life and fond of warfare. But if we will face the facts, we shall
find that there have been many instances of achievement in peace more important
and no less renowned than in war.
{75} However highly
Themistocles, for example, may be extolled — and deservedly — and however much
more illustrious his name may be than Solon's, and however much Salamis may be
cited as witness of his most glorious victory — a victory glorified above
Solon's statesmanship in instituting the Areopagus — yet Solon's achievement is
not to be accounted less illustrious than his. For Themistocles's victory
served the state once and only once; while Solon's work will be of service for
ever. For through his legislation the laws of the Athenians and the
institutions of their fathers are maintained. And while Themistocles could not
readily point to any instance in which he himself had rendered assistance to
the Areopagus, the Areopagus might with justice assert that Themistocles had
received assistance from it; for the war was directed by the counsels of that
senate which Solon had created. {76} The same may be said of Pausanias and
Lysander. Although it is thought that it was by their achievements that Sparta
gained her supremacy, yet these are not even remotely to be compared with the
legislation and discipline of Lycurgus. Nay, rather, it was due to these that
Pausanias and Lysander had armies so brave and so well disciplined. For my own
part, I do not consider that Marcus Scaurus was inferior to Gaius Marius, when
I was a lad, or Quintus Cattilus to Gnaeus Pompey, when I was engaged in public
life. For arms are of little value in the field unless there is wise counsel at
home. So, too, Africanus, though a great man and a soldier of extraordinary
ability, did no greater service to the state by destroying Numantia than was
done at the same time by Publius Nasica, though not then clothed with official
authority, by removing Tiberius Gracchus. This deed does not, to be sure,
belong wholly to the domain of civil affairs; it partakes of the nature of war
also, since it was effected by violence; but it was, for all that, executed as
a political measure without the help of an army. 77 The whole truth, however,
is in this verse, against which, I am told, the malicious and envious are wont
to rail:
Yield, ye arms, to the toga; to civic praises,
ye laurels."
Not to mention other
instances, did not arms yield to the toga, when I was at the helm of state? For
never was the republic in more serious peril, never was peace more profound.
Thus, as the result of my counsels and my vigilance, their weapons slipped
suddenly from the hands of the most desperate traitors — dropped to the ground
of their own accord! What achievement in war, then, was ever so great? {78}
What triumph can be compared with that? For I may boast to you, my son Marcus;
for to you belong the inheritance of that glory of mine and the duty of
imitating my deeds. And it was to me, too, that Gnaeus Pompey, a hero crowned
with the honour of war, paid this tribute in the hearing of many, when he said
that his third triumph would have been gained in vain, if he were not to have
through my services to the state a place in which to celebrate it. There are,
therefore, instances of civic courage that are not inferior to the courage of
the soldier. Nay, the former calls for even greater energy and greater devotion
than the latter.
{79} XXIII.
That moral goodness which
we look for in a lofty, high-minded spirit is secured, of course, by moral, not
by physical, strength. And yet the body must be trained and so discliplined
that it can obey the dictates of judgment and reason in attending to business
and in enduring toil. But that moral goodness which is our theme depends wholly
upon the thought and attention given to it by the mind. And, in this way, the
men who in a civil capacity direct the affairs of the nation render no less
important service than they who conduct its wars: by their statesmanship
oftentimes wars are either averted or terminated; sometimes also they are
declared. Upon Marcus Cato's counsel, for example, the Third Punic War was
undertaken, and in its conduct his influence {80} was dominant, even after he
was dead. And so diplomacy in the friendly settlement of controversies is more
desirable than courage in settling them on the battlefield; but we must be
careful not to take that course merely for the sake of avoiding war rather than
for the sake of public expediency. War, however, should be undertaken in such a
way as to make it evident that it has no other object than to secure peace. But
it takes a brave and resolute spirit not to be disconcerted in times of
difficulty or ruffled and thrown off one's feet, as the saying is, but to keep
one's presence of mind and one's self-possession and not to swerve from the
path of reason.
{81} Now all this requires
great personal courage; but it calls also for great intellectual ability by
reflection to anticipate the future, to discover some time in advance what may
happen whether for good or for ill, and what must be done in any possible
event, and never to be reduced to having to say, "I had not thought of
that." These are the activities that mark a spirit strong, high, and self-reliant
in its prudence and wisdom. But to mix rashly in the fray and to fight hand to
hand with the enemy is but a barbarous and brutish kind of business. Yet when
the stress of circumstances demands it, we must gird on the sword and prefer
death to slavery and disgrace.
{82} XXIV.
As to destroying and
plundering cities, let me say that great care should be taken that nothing be
done in reckless cruelty or wantonness. And it is great man's duty in troublous
times to single out the guilty for punishment, to spare the many, and in every
turn of fortune to hold to a true and honourable course. For whereas there are
many, as I have said before, who place the achievements of war above those of
peace, so one may find many to whom adventurous, hot-headed counsels seem more
brilliant and more impressive than calm and well-considered measures.
{83} We must, of course,
never be guilty of seeming cowardly and craven in our avoidance of danger; but
we must also beware of exposing ourselves to danger needlessly. Nothing can be
more foolhardy than that. Accordingly, in encountering danger we should do as
doctors do in their practice: in light cases of illness they give mild
treatment; in cases of dangerous sickness they are compelled to apply hazardous
and even desperate remedies. It is, therefore, only a madman who, in a calm,
would pray for a storm; a wise man's way is, when the storm does come, to
withstand it with all the means at his command, and especially, when the
advantages to be expected in case of a successful issue are greater than the
hazards of the struggle. The dangers attending great affairs of state fall
sometimes upon those who undertake them, sometimes upon the state. In carrying
out such enterprises, some run the risk of losing their lives, others their
reputation and the good-will of their fellow-citizens. It is our duty, then, to
be more ready to endanger our own than the public welfare and to hazard honour
and glory more readily than other advantages./a
{84} Many, on the other
hand, have been found who were ready to pour out not only their money but their
lives for their country and yet would not consent to make even the slightest
sacrifice of personal glory — even though the interests of their country
demanded it. For example, when Callicratidas, as Spartan admiral in the
Peloponnesian War, had won many signal successes, he spoiled everything at the
end by refusing to listen to the proposal of those who thought he ought to
withdraw his fleet from the Arginusae and not to risk an engagement with the
Athenians. His answer to them was that "the Spartans could build another
fleet, if they lost that one, but he could not retreat without dishonour to
himself." And yet what he did dealt only a slight blow to Sparta; there
was another which proved disastrous, when Cleombrotus in fear of criticism
recklessly went into battle against Epaminondas. In consequence of that, the
Spartan power fell.
How much better was the
conduct of Quintus Maximus! Of him Ennius says: One man — and he alone —
restored our state by delaying. Not in the least did fame with him take
precedence of safety; Therefore now does his glory shine bright, and it grows
ever brighter. This sort of offence must be avoided no less in political life.
For there are men who for fear of giving offence do not dare to express their
honest opinion, no matter how excellent.
{85} XXV.
Those who propose to take
charge of the affairs of government should not fail to remember two of Plato's
rules: first, to keep the good of the people so clearly in view that regardless
of their own interests they will make their every action conform to that;
second, to care for the welfare of the whole body politic and not in serving
the interests of some one party to betray the rest. For the administration of
the government, like the office of a trustee must be conducted for the benefit
of those entrusted to one's care, not of those to whom it is entrusted. Now,
those who care for the interests of a part of the citizens and neglect another
part, introduce into the civil service a dangerous element — dissension and
party strife. The result is that some are found to be loyal supporters of the
democratic, others of the aristocratic party, and few of the nation as a whole.
{86} As a result of this party spirit bitter strife arose at Athens,/b and in
our own country not only dissensions/c but also disastrous civil wars/d broke
out.
All this the citizen who is
patriotic, brave, and worthy of a leading place in the state will shun with
abhorrence; he will dedicate himself unreservedly to his country, without
aiming at influence or power for himself; and he will devote himself to the
state in its entirety in such a way as to further the interests of all.
Besides, he will not expose anyone to hatred or disrepute by groundless
charges. but he will surely cleave to justice and honour so closely that he
will submit to any loss, however heavy, rather than be untrue to them, and will
face death itself rather than renounce them. {87} A most wretched custom,
assuredly, is our electioneering and scrambling for office. Concerning this
also we find a fine thought in Plato: "Those who compete against one
another," he says, "to see which of two candidates shall administer
the government, are like sailors quarrelling as to which one of them shall do the
steering." And he likewise lays down the rule that we should regard only
those as adversaries who take up arms against the state, not those who strive
to have the government administered according to their convictions. This was
the spirit of the disagreement between Publius Africanus and Quintus Metellus:
there was in it no trace of rancour.
{88} Neither must we listen
to those who think that one should indulge in violent anger against one's
political enemies and imagine that such is the attitude of a great-spirited,
brave man. For nothing is more commendable, nothing more becoming in a
pre-eminently great man than courtesy and forbearance. Indeed, in a free
people, where all enjoy equal rights before the law, we must school ourselves
to affability and what is called "mental poise";/a for if we are
irritated when people intrude upon us at unseasonable hours or make
unreasonable requests, we shall develop a sour, churlish temper, prejudicial to
ourselves and offensive to others. And yet gentleness of spirit and forbearance
are to be commended only with the understanding that strictness may be
exercised for the good of the state; for without that, the government cannot be
well administered. On the other hand, if punishment or correction must be
administered, it need not be insulting; it ought to have regard to the welfare
of the state, not to the personal satisfaction of the man who administers the
punishment or reproof.
{89} We should take care
also that the punishment shall not be out of proportion to the offence, and
that some shall not be chastised for the same fault for which others are not
even called to account. In administering punishment it is above all necessary
to allow no trace of anger. For if any one proceeds in a passion to inflict
punishment, he will never observe that happy mean which lies between excess and
defect. This doctrine of the mean is approved by the Peripatetics and wisely
approved, if only they did not speak in praise of anger and tell us that it is
a gift bestowed on us by Nature for a good purpose. But, in reality, anger is
in every circumstance to be eradicated; and it is to be desired that they who
administer the government should be like the laws, which are led to inflict
punishment not by wrath but by justice.
{90} XXVI.
Again, when fortune smiles
and the stream of life flows according to our wishes, let us diligently avoid
all arrogance, haughtiness, and pride. For it is as much a sign of weakness to
give way to one's feelings in success as it is in adversity. But it is a fine
thing to keep an unruffled temper, an unchanging mien, and the same cast of
countenance in every condition of life; this, history tells us, was
characteristic of Socrates and no less of Gaius Laelius. Philip, king of
Macedon, I observe, however surpassed by his son in achievements and fame, was
superior to him in affability and refinement. Philip, accordingly, was always
great; Alexander, often infamously bad. There seems to be sound advice,
therefore, in this word of warning: "The higher we are placed, the more
humbly should we walk." Panaetius tells us that Africanus, his pupil and
friend, used to say: "As, when horses have become mettlesome and
unmanageable on account of their frequent participation in battles, their
owners put them in the hands of trainers to make them more tractable; so men,
who through prosperity have become restive and over self-confident, ought to be
put into the training-ring, so to speak, of reason and learning, that they may
be brought to comprehend the frailty of human affairs and the fickleness of
fortune."
{91} The greater our
prosperity, moreover, the more should we seek the counsel of friends, and the
greater the heed that should be given to their advice. Under such circumstances
also we must beware of lending an ear to sycophants or allowing them to impose
upon us with their flattery. For it is easy in this way to deceive ourselves,
since we thus come to think ourselves duly entitled to praise; and to this
frame of mind a thousand delusions may be traced, when men are puffed up with
conceit and expose themselves to ignominy and ridicule by committing the most
egregious blunders. So much for this subject. {92} To revert to the original
question/a — we must decide that the most important activities, those most
indicative of a great spirit, are performed by the men who direct the affairs
of nations; for such public activities have the widest scope and touch the
lives of the most people. But even in the life of retirement there are and
there have been many high-souled men who have been engaged in important
inquiries or embarked on most important enterprises and yet kept themselves
within the limits of their own affairs; or, taking a middle course between
philosophers on the one hand and statesmen on the other, they were content with
managing their own property — not increasing it by any and every means nor
debarring their kindred from the enjoyment of it, but rather, if ever there
were need, sharing it with their friends and with the state. Only let it, in
the first place, be honestly acquired, by the use of no dishonest or fraudulent
means; let it, in the second place, increase by wisdom, industry, and thrift;
and, finally, let it be made available for the use of as many as possible (if
only they are worthy) and be at the service of generosity and beneficence
rather than of sensuality and excess. By observing these rules, one may live in
magnificence, dignity, and independence, and yet in honour, truth and charity
toward all.
{93} XXVII.
We have next to discuss the
one remaining division of moral rectitude. That is the one in which we find
considerateness and self-control, which give, as it were, a sort of polish to
life; it embraces also temperance, complete subjection of all the passions, and
moderation in all things. Under this head is further included what, in Latin,
may be called decorum/a (Propriety); for in Greek it is called prepon (prepon)./a Such is its essential nature, {94} that it is
inseparable from moral goodness; for what is proper is morally right, and what
is morally right is proper. The nature of the difference between morality and
propriety can be more easily felt than expressed. For whatever propriety may
be, it is manifested only when there is pre-existing moral rectitude. And so,
not only in this division of moral rectitude which we have now to discuss but
also in the three preceding divisions, it is clearly brought out what propriety
is. For to employ reason and speech rationally, to do with careful
consideration whatever one does, and in everything to discern the truth and to
uphold it — that is proper. To be mistaken, on the other hand, to miss the
truth, to fall into error, to be led astray — that is as improper as to be
deranged and lose one's mind. And all things just are proper; all things
unjust, like all things immoral, are improper. The relation of propriety to
fortitude is similar. What is done in a manly and courageous spirit seems
becoming to a man and proper; what is done in a contrary fashion is at once
immoral and improper.
{95} This propriety,
therefore, of which I am speaking belongs to each division of moral rectitude;
and its relation to the cardinal virtues is so close, that it is perfectly
self-evident and does not require any abstruse process of reasoning to see it.
For there is a certain element of propriety perceptible in every act of moral
rectitude; and this can be separated from virtue theoretically better than it
can be practically. As comeliness and beauty of person are inseparable from the
notion of health, so this propriety of which we are speaking, while in fact
completely blended with virtue, is mentally and theoretically distinguishable
from it.
{96} The classification of
propriety, moreover, is twofold: (1) we assume a general sort of propriety,
which is found in moral goodness as a whole; then (2) there is another
propriety, subordinate to this, which belongs to the several divisions of moral
goodness. The former is usually defined somewhat as follows: "Propriety is
that which harmonizes with man's superiority in those respects in which his
nature differs from that of the rest of the animal creation." And they so
define the special type of propriety which is subordinate to the general
notion, that they represent it to be that propriety which harmonizes with
Nature, in the sense that it manifestly embraces temperance and self-control,
together with a certain deportment such as becomes a gentleman.
{97} XXVIII.
That this is the common
acceptation of propriety we may infer from that propriety which poets aim to
secure. Concerning that, I have occasion to say more in another connection.
Now, we say that the poets observe propriety, when every word or action is in
accord with each individual character. For example, if Aeacus or Minos said.
"Let them hate, if only they fear," or: "The father is himself
his children's tomb," that would seem improper, because we are told that
they were just men. But when Atreus speaks those lines, they call forth
applause; for the sentiment is in keeping with the character. But it will rest
with the poets to decide, according to the individual characters, what is
proper for each; but to us Nature herself has assigned a character of
surpassing excellence, far superior to that of all other living creatures, and
in accordance with that we shall have to decide what propriety requires.
{98} The poets will
observe, therefore, amid a great variety of characters, what is suitable and
proper for all — even for the bad. But to us Nature has assigned the roles of
steadfastness, temperance, self-control, and considerateness of others; Nature
also teaches us not to be careless in our behaviour towards our fellow-men.
Hence we may clearly see how wide is the application not only of that propriety
which is essential to moral rectitude in general, but also of the special
propriety which is displayed in each particular subdivision of virtue. For, as
physical beauty with harmonious symmetry of the limbs engages the attention and
delights the eye, for the very reason that all the parts combine in harmony and
grace, so this propriety, which shines out in our conduct, engages the
approbation of our fellow-men by the order, consistency, and self-control it
imposes upon every word and deed. {99} We should, therefore, in our dealings
with people show what I may almost call reverence toward all men — not only toward
the men who are the best, but toward others as well. For indifference to public
opinion implies not merely self-sufficiency, but even total lack of principle.
There is, too, a difference between justice and considerateness in one's
relations to one's fellow-men. It is the function of justice not to do wrong to
one's fellow-men; of considerateness, not to wound their feelings; and in this
the essence of propriety is best seen. With the foregoing exposition, I think
it is clear what the nature is of what we term propriety.
{100} Further, as to the
duty which has its source in propriety, the first road on which it conducts us
leads to harmony with Nature and the faithful observance of her laws. If we
follow Nature as our guide, we shall never go astray, but we shall be pursuing
that which is in its nature clear-sighted and penetrating (Wisdom), that which
is adapted to promote and strengthen society (Justice), and that which is
strong and courageous (Fortitude). But the very essence of propriety is found in
the division of virtue which is now under discussion (Temperance). For it is
only when they agree with Nature's laws that we should give our approval to the
movements not only of the body, but still more of the spirit. {101} Now we find
that the essential activity of the spirit is twofold: one force is appetite
(that is, ormh (orme), in Greek),
which impels a man this way and that; the other is reason, which teaches and
explains what should be done and what should be left undone. The result is that
reason commands, appetite obeys.
XXIX.
Again, every action ought
to be free from undue haste or carelessness; neither ought we to do anything
for which we cannot assign a reasonable motive; for in these words we have
practically a definition of duty.
{102} The appetites,
moreover, must be made to obey the reins of reason and neither allowed to run
ahead of it nor from listlessness or indolence to lag behind; but people should
enjoy calm of soul and be free from every sort of passion. As a result strength
of character and self-control will shine forth in all their lustre. For when
appetites overstep their bounds and, galloping away, so to speak, whether in
desire or aversion, are not well held in hand by reason, they clearly overleap
all bound and measure; for they throw obedience off and leave it behind and
refuse to obey the reins of reason, to which they are subject by Nature's laws.
And not only minds but bodies as well are disordered by such appetites. We need
only to look at the faces of men in a rage or under the influence of some
passion or fear or beside themselves with extravagant joy: in every instance
their features, voices, motions, attitudes undergo a change. {103} From all
this — to return to our sketch of duty — we see that all the appetites must be
controlled and calmed and that we must take infinite pains not to do anything
from mere impulse or at random, without due consideration and care. For Nature
has not brought us into the world to act as if we were created for play or
jest, but rather for earnestness and for some more serious and important
pursuits. We may, of course, indulge in sport and jest, but in the same way as
we enjoy sleep or other relaxations, and only when we have satisfied the claims
of our earnest, serious tasks. Further than that, the manner of jesting itself
ought not to be extravagant or immoderate, but refined and witty. For as we do
not grant our children unlimited licence to play, but only such freedom as is
not incompatible with good conduct, so even in our jesting let the light {104}
of a pure character shine forth. There are, generally speaking, two sorts of
jest: the one, coarse, rude, vicious, indecent; the other, refined, polite,
clever, witty. With this latter sort not only our own Plautus and the Old
Comedy of Athens, but also the books of Socratic philosophy abound; and we have
many witty sayings of many men — like those collected by old Cato under the
title of Bons Mots (apophthegmata) So the distinction between the
elegant and the vulgar jest is an easy matter: the one kind, if well timed (for
instance, in hours of mental relaxation), is becoming to the most dignified
person; the other is unfit for any gentleman, if the subject is indecent and
the words obscene. Then, too, certain bounds must be observed in our amusements
and we must be careful not to carry things too far and, swept away by our
passions, lapse into some shameful excess. Our Campus, however, and the
amusements of the chase are examples of wholesome recreation.
{105} XXX.
But it is essential to
every inquiry about duty that we keep before our eyes how far superior man is
by nature to cattle and other beasts: they have no thought except for sensual
pleasure and this they are impelled by every instinct to seek; but man's mind is
nurtured by study and meditation; he is always either investigating or doing,
and he is captivated by the pleasure of seeing and hearing. Nay, even if a man
is more than ordinarily inclined to sensual pleasures, provided, of course,
that he be not quite on a level with the beasts of the field (for some people
are men only in name,, not in fact) — if, I say, he is a little too susceptible
to the attractions of pleasure, he hides the fact, however much he may be
caught in its toils, and for very shame conceals his appetite.
{106} From this we see that
sensual pleasure is quite unworthy of the dignity of man and that we ought to
despise it and cast it from us; but if someone should be found who sets some
value upon sensual gratification, he must keep strictly within the limits of
moderate indulgence. One's physical comforts and wants, therefore, should be
ordered according to the demands of health and strength, not according to the
calls of pleasure. And if we will only bear in mind the superiority and dignity
of our nature, we shall realize how wrong it is to abandon ourselves to excess
and to live in luxury and voluptuousness, and how right it is to live in
thrift, self-denial,simplicity, and sobriety.
{107} We must realize also
that we are invested by Nature with two characters, as it were: one of these is
universal, arising from the fact of our being all alike endowed with reason and
with that superiority which lifts us above the brute. From this all morality
and propriety are derived, and upon it depends the rational method of
ascertaining our duty. The other character is the one that is assigned to
individuals in particular. In the matter of physical endowment there are great
differences: some, we see, excel in speed for the race, others in strength for
wrestling; so in point of personal appearance, some have stateliness, others
comeliness.
{108} Diversities of
character are greater still. Lucius Crassus and Lucius Philippus had a large
fund of wit; Gaius Caesar, Lucius's son, had a still richer fund and employed
it with more studied purpose.
Contemporary with them,
Marcus Scaurus and Marcus Drusus, the younger, were examples of unusual
seriousness; Gaius Laelius, of unbounded jollity; while his intimate friend,
Scipio, cherished more serious ideals and lived a more austere life. Among the
Greeks, history tells us, Socrates was fascinating and witty, a genial
conversationalist; he was what the Greeks call eirona (eirona) in every conversation, pretending to need
information and professing admiration for the wisdom of his companion.
Pythagoras and Pericles, on the other hand, reached the heights of influence
and power without any seasoning of mirthfulness. We read that Hannibal, among
the Carthaginian generals, and Quintus Maximus, among our own, were shrewd and ready
at concealing their plans, covering up their tracks, disguising their
movements, laying stratagems, forestalling the enemy's designs. In these
qualities the Greeks rank Themistocles and Jason of Pherae above all others.
Especially crafty and shrewd was the device of Solon, who, to make his own life
safer and at the same time to do a considerably larger service for his country,
feigned insanity.
{109} Then there are
others, quite different from these, straightforward and open, who think that
nothing should be done by underhand means or treachery. They are lovers of
truth, haters of fraud. There are others still who will stoop to anything,
truckle to anybody, if only they may gain their ends. Such, we saw, were Sulla
and Marcus Crassus. The most crafty and most persevering man of this type was
Lysander of Sparta, we are told; of the opposite type was Callicratidas, who
succeeded Lysander as admiral of the fleet. So we find that another, no matter
how eminent he may be, will condescend in social intercourse to make himself
appear but a very ordinary person. Such graciousness of manner we have seen in
the case of Catulus — both father and son — and also of Quintus Mucius Mancia.
I have heard from my elders that Publius Scipio Nasica was another master of this
art; but his father, on the other hand — the man who punished Tiberius Gracchus
for his nefarious undertakings — had no such gracious manner in social
intercourse [ ... ], and because of that very fact he rose to greatness and
fame. Countless other dissimilarities exist in natures and characters, and they
are not in the least to be criticized.
{110} XXXI.
Everybody, however, must
resolutely hold fast to his own peculiar gifts, in so far as they are peculiar
only and not vicious, in order that propriety, which is the object of our
inquiry, may the more easily be secured. For we must so act as not to oppose
the universal laws of human nature, but, while safeguarding those, to follow
the bent of our own particular nature; and even if other careers should be better
and nobler, we may still regulate our own pursuits by the standard of our own
nature. For it is of no avail to fight against one's nature or to aim at what
is impossible of attainment. From this fact the nature of that propriety
defined above comes into still clearer light, inasmuch as nothing is proper
that "goes against the grain," as the saying is — that is, if it is
in direct opposition to one's natural genius.
{111} If there is any such
thing as propriety at all, it can be nothing more than uniform consistency in
the course of our life as a whole and all its individual actions. And this
uniform consistency one could not maintain by copying the personal traits of
others and eliminating one's own. For as we ought to employ our mother-tongue,
lest, like certain people who are continually dragging in Greek words, we draw
well-deserved ridicule upon ourselves, so we ought not to introduce anything
foreign into our {112} actions or our life in general. Indeed, such diversity
of character carries with it so great significance that suicide may be for one
man a duty, for another [under the same circumstances] a crime. Did Marcus Cato
find himself in one predicament, and were the others, who surrendered to Caesar
in Africa, in another? And yet, perhaps, they would have been condemned, if
they had taken their lives; for their mode of life had been less austere and
their characters more pliable. But Cato had been endowed by nature with an
austerity beyond belief, and he himself had strengthened it by unswerving consistency
and had remained ever true to his purpose and fixed resolve; and it was for him
to die rather than to look upon the face of a tyrant. {113} How much Ulysses
endured on those long wanderings, when he submitted to the service even of
women (if Circe and Calypso may be called women) and strove in every word to be
courteous and complaisant to all! And, arrived at home, he brooked even the
insults of his men-servants and maidservants, in order to attain in the end the
object of his desire. But Ajax, with the temper he is represented as having,
would have chosen to meet death a thousand times rather that it is each man's
duty to weigh well what are his own peculiar traits of character, to regulate
these properly, and not to wish to try how another man's would suit him. For
the more peculiarly his own a man's character is, the better it fits him. {114}
Everyone, therefore, should make a proper estimate of his own natural ability
and show himself a critical judge of his own merits and defects; in this respect
we should not let actors display more practical wisdom than we have. They
select, not the best plays, but the ones best suited to their talents. Those
who rely most upon the quality of their voice take the Epigoni and the Medus;
those who place more stress upon the action choose the Melanippa and the
Clytaemnestra; Rupilius, whom I remember, always played in the Antiope, Aesopus
rarely in the Ajax. Shall a player have regard to this in choosing his role
upon the stage, and a wise man fail to do so in selecting his part in life? We
shall, therefore, work to the best advantage in that role to which we are best
adapted. But if at some time stress of circumstances shall thrust us aside into
some uncongenial part, we must devote to it all possible thought, practice, and
pains, that we may be able to perform it, if not with propriety, at least with
as little impropriety as possible; and we need not strive so hard to attain to
points of excellence that have not been vouchsafed to us as to correct the
faults we have.
{115} XXXII.
To the two above-mentioned
characters is added a third, which some chance or some circumstance imposes,
and a fourth also, which we assume by our own deliberate choice. Regal powers
and military commands, nobility of birth and political office, wealth and
influence, and their opposites depend upon chance and are, therefore,
controlled by circumstances. But what role we ourselves may choose to sustain
is decided by our own free choice. And so some turn to philosophy, others to
the civil law, and still others to oratory, while in case of the virtues
themselves one man prefers to excel in one, another in another.
{116} They, whose fathers
or forefathers have achieved distinction in some particular field, often strive
to attain eminence in the same department of service: for example, Quintus, the
son of Publius Mucius, in the law; Africanus, the son of Paulus, in the army.
And to that distinction which they have severally inherited from their fathers
some have added lustre of their own; for example, that same Africanus, who
crowned his inherited military glory with his own eloquence. Timotheus, Conon's
son, did the same: he proved himself not inferior to his father in military
renown and added to that distinction the glory of culture and intellectual
power. It happens sometimes, too, that a man declines to follow in the
footsteps of his fathers and pursues a vocation of his own. And in such
callings those very frequently achieve signal success who, though sprung from
humble parentage, have set their aims high. {117} All these questions,
therefore, we ought to bear thoughtfully in mind, when we inquire into the
nature of propriety; but above all we must decide who and what manner of men we
wish to be and what calling in life we would follow; and this is the most
difficult problem in the world. For it is in the years of early youth, when our
judgement is most immature, that each of us decides that his calling in life
shall be that to which he has taken a special liking. And thus he becomes
engaged in some particular calling and career in life, before he is fit to
decide intelligently what is best for him.
{118} For we cannot all
have the experience of Hercules, as we find it in the words of Prodicus in
Xenophon; "When Hercules was just coming into youth's estate (the time
which Nature has appointed unto every man for choosing the path of life on
which he would enter), he went out into a desert place. And as he saw two
paths, the path of Pleasure and the path of Virtue, he sat down and debated
long and earnestly which one it were better for him to take." This might,
perhaps, happen to a Hercules, "scion of the seed of Jove"; but it
cannot well happen to us; for we copy each the model he fancies, and we are
constrained to adopt their pursuits and vocations. But usually, we are so
imbued with the teachings of our parents, that we fall irresistibly into their
manners and customs. Others drift with the current of popular opinion and make
especial choice of those callings which the majority find most attractive.
Some, however, as the result either of some happy fortune or of natural
ability, enter upon the right path of life, without parental guidance.
{119} XXXIII.
There is one class of
people that is very rarely met with: it is composed of those who are endowed
with marked natural ability, or exceptional advantages of education and
culture, or both, and who also have time to consider carefully what career in
life they prefer to follow; and in this deliberation the decision must turn
wholly upon each individual's natural bent. For we try to find out from each
one's native disposition, as was said above, just what is proper for him; and
this we require not only in case of each individual act but which still greater
care must be given, In order that we may be true to ourselves throughout all
our lives and not falter in the discharge of any duty. {120} But since the most
powerful influence in the choice of a career is exerted by Nature, and the next
most powerful by Fortune, we must, of course, take account of them both in
deciding upon our calling in life; but, of the two, Nature claims the more
attention. For Nature is so much more stable and steadfast, that for Fortune to
come into conflict with Nature seems like a combat between a mortal and a
goddess. If, therefore, he has conformed his whole plan of life to the kind of
nature that is his (that is, his better nature), let him go on with it
consistently — for that is the essence of Propriety unless, perchance, he
should discover that he has made a mistake in choosing his life work. If this
should happen (and it can easily happen), he must change his vocation and mode
of life. If circumstances favour such change, it will be effected with greater
ease and convenience. If not, it must be made gradually, step by step, just as,
when friendships become no longer pleasing or desirable, it is more proper (so
wise men think) to undo the bond {121} little by little than to sever it at a
stroke. And when we have once changed our calling in life, we must take all
possible care to make it clear that we have done so with good reason. But
whereas I said a moment ago that we have to follow in the steps of our fathers,
let me make the following exceptions: first, we need not imitate their faults;
second, we need not imitate certain other things, if our nature does not permit
such imitation; for example, the son of the elder Africanus (that Scipio who
adopted the Younger Africanus, the son of Paulus) could not on account of
ill-health be so much like his father as Africanus had been like his. If, then,
a man is unable to conduct cases at the bar or to hold the people spell-bound
with his eloquence or to conduct wars, still it will be his duty to practise
these other virtues, which are within his reach — justice, good_faith,
generosity, temperance, self-control — that his deficiencies in other respects
may be less conspicuous. The noblest heritage, however, that is handed down
from fathers to children, and one more precious than any inherited wealth, is a
reputation for virtue and worthy deeds; and to dishonour this must be branded
as a sin and a shame.
{122} XXXIV.
Since, too, the duties that
properly belong to different times of life are not the same, but some belong to
the young, others to those more advanced in years, a word must be said on this
distinction also. It is, then, the duty of a young man to show deference to his
elders and to attach himself to the best and most approved of them, so as to
receive the benefit of their counsel and influence. For the inexperience of
youth requires the practical wisdom of age to strengthen and direct it. And
this time of life is above all to be protected against sensuality and trained
to toil and endurance of both mind and body, so as to be strong for active duty
in military and civil service. And even when they wish to relax their minds and
give themselves up to enjoyment they should beware of excesses and bear in mind
the rules of modesty. And this will be easier, if the young are not unwilling
to have their elders join them even in their pleasures.
{123} The old, on the other
hand, should, it seems, have their physical labours reduced; their mental
activities should be actually increased. They should endeavour, too, by means
of their counsel and practical wisdom to be of as much service as possible to
their friends and to the young, and above all to the state. But there is
nothing against which old age has to be more on its guard than against
surrendering to feebleness and idleness, while luxury, a vice in any time of
life, is in old age especially scandalous. But if excess in sensual indulgence
is added to luxurious living, it is a twofold evil; for old age not only
disgraces itself; it also serves to make the excesses of the young more
shameless.
{124} At this point it is
not at all irrelevant to discuss the duties of magistrates, of private
individuals, [of native citizens,] and of foreigners. It is, then, peculiarly
the place of a magistrate to bear in mind that he represents the state and that
it is his duty to uphold its honour and its dignity, to enforce the law, to
dispense to all their constitutional rights, and to remember that all
this has been committed to him as a sacred trust. The private individual ought
first, in private relations, to live on fair and equal terms with his
fellow-citizens, with a spirit neither servile and grovelling nor yet
domineering; and second, in matters pertaining to the state, to labour for her
peace and honour; for such a man we are accustomed to esteem and call a good
citizen.
{125} As for the foreigner
or the resident alien, it is his duty to attend strictly to his own concerns,
not to pry into other people's business, and under no condition to meddle in
the politics of a country not his own. In this way I think we shall have a
fairly, clear view of our duties when the question arises what is proper and
what is appropriate to each character, circumstance, and age. But there is
nothing so essentially proper as to maintain consistency in th performance of
every act and in the conception of every plan.
{126} XXXV.
But the propriety to which
I refer shows itself also in every deed, in every word, even in every movement
and attitude of the body. And in outward, visible propriety there are three
elements — beauty, tact, and taste; these conceptions are difficult to express
in words, but it will be enough for my purpose if they are understood. In these
three elements is included also our concern for the good opinion of those with
whom and amongst whom we live. For these reasons I should like to say a few
words about this kind of propriety also. First of all, Nature seems to have had
a wonderful plan in the construction of our bodies. Our face and our figure
generally, in so far as it has a comely appearance, she has placed in sight;
but the parts of the body that are given us only to serve the needs of Nature
and that would present an unsightly and unpleasant appearance she has covered
up and {127} concealed from view. Man's modesty has followed this careful
contrivance of Nature's; all right-minded people keep out of sight what Nature
has hidden and take pains to respond to Nature's demands as privately as
possible; and in the case of those parts of the body which only serve Nature's
needs, neither the parts nor the functions are called by their real names. To
perform these functions — if only it be done in private — is nothing immoral;
but to speak of them is indecent. And so neither public performance of those
acts nor vulgar mention of them is free from indecency.
{128} But we should give no
heed to the Cynics (or to some Stoics who are practically Cynics) who censure
and ridicule us for holding that the mere mention of some actions that are not
immoral is shameful, while other things that are immoral we call by their real
names. Robbery, fraud, and adultery, for example, are immoral in deed, but it
is not indecent to name them. To beget children in wedlock is in deed morally
right; to speak of it is indecent. And they assail modesty with a great many
other arguments to the same purport. But as for us, let us follow Nature and
shun everything that is offensive to our eyes or our ears. So, in standing or
walking, in sitting or reclining, in our expression, our eyes, or the movements
of our hands, let us preserve what we have called "propriety."
{129} In these matters we
must avoid especially the two extremes — our conduct and speech should not be
effeminate and over-nice, on the one hand, nor coarse and boorish, on the other.
And we surely must not admit that, while this rule applies to actors and
orators, it is not binding upon us. As for stage-people, their custom, because
of its traditional discipline, carries modesty to such a point that an actor
would never step out upon the stage without a breech-cloth on, for fear he
might make an improper exhibition, if by some accident certain parts of his
person should happen to become exposed. And in our own custom grown sons do not
bathe with their fathers, nor sons-in-law with their fathers-in-law. We must,
therefore, keep to the path of this sort of modesty, especially when Nature is
our teacher and guide.
{130} XXXVI.
Again, there are two orders
of beauty: in the one, loveliness predominates; in the other, dignity; of
these, we ought to regard loveliness as the attribute of woman, and dignity as
the attribute of man. Therefore, let all finery not suitable to a man's dignity
be kept off his person, and let him guard against the like fault in gesture and
action. The manners taught in the palaestra,[4] for example, are often
rather objectionable, and the gestures of actors on the stage are not always
free from affectation; but simple, unaffected manners are commendable in both
instances. Now dignity of mien is also to be enhanced by a good complexion; the
complexion is the result of physical exercise. We must besides present an
appearance of neatness — not too punctilious or exquisite, but just enough to
avoid boorish and ill-bred slovenliness. We must follow the same principle in
regard to dress. In this, as in most things, the best rule is the golden mean.
{131} We must be careful,
too, not to fall into a habit of listless sauntering in our gait, so as to look
like carriers in festal processions, or of hurrying too fast, when time
presses. If we do this, it puts us out of breath, our looks are changed, our
features distorted; and all this is clear evidence of a lack of poise. But it
is much more important that we succeed in keeping our mental operations in
harmony with Nature's laws. And we shall not fall in this if we guard against
violent excitement or depression, and if we keep our minds intent on the
observance of propriety.
{132} Our mental
operations, moreover, are of two kinds: some have to do with thought, others
with impulse. Thought is occupied chiefly with the discovery of truth; impulse
prompts to action. We must be careful, therefore, to employ our thoughts on
themes as elevating as possible and to keep our impulses under the control of
reason.
XXXVII.
The power of speech in the
attainment of propriety is great, and its function is twofold: the first is
oratory; the second, conversation. Oratory is the kind of discourse to be
employed in pleadings in court and speeches in popular assemblies and in the
senate; conversation should find its natural place in social gatherings, in
informal discussions, and in intercourse with friends; it should also seek
admission at dinners. There are rules for oratory laid down by rhetoricians;
there are none for conversation; and yet I do not know why there should not be.
But where there are students to learn, teachers are found; there are, however,
none who make conversation a subject of study, whereas pupils throng about the
rhetoricians everywhere. And yet the same rules that we have for words and
sentences in rhetoric will apply also to conversation. {133} Now since we have
the voice as the organ of speech, we should aim to secure two properties for
it: that it be clear, and that it be musical. We must, of course, look to
Nature for both gifts. But distinctness may be improved by practice; the
musical qualities, by imitating those who speak with smooth and articulate
enunciation. They were masters of the Latin tongue. Their pronunciation was
charming; their words were neither mouthed nor mumbled: they avoided both
indistinctness and affectation; their voices were free from strain, yet neither
faint nor shrill. More copious was the speech of Lucius Crassus and not less
brilliant, but the reputation of the two Catuli for eloquence was fully equal
to his. But in wit and humour Caesar, the elder Catulus's half- brother,
surpassed them all: even at the bar he would with his conversational style
defeat other advocates with their elaborate orations. If, therefore, we are
aiming to secure propriety in every circumstance of life, we must master all
these points.
{134} Conversation, then,
in which the Socratics are the best models, should have these qualities. It
should be easy and not in the least dogmatic; it should have the spice of wit.
And the one who engages in conversation should not debar others from
participating in it, as if he were entering upon a private monopoly; but, as in
other things, so in a general conversation he should think it not unfair for
each to have his turn. He should observe, first and foremost, what the subject
of conversation is. If it is grave, he should treat it with seriousness; if
humorous, with wit. And above all, he should be on the watch that his
conversation shall not betray some defect in his character. This is most likely
to occur, when people in jest or in earnest take delight in making malicious
and slanderous statements about the absent, on purpose to injure their
reputations.
{135} The subjects of
conversation are usually affairs of the home or politics or the practice of the
professions and learning. Accordingly, if the talk begins to drift off to other
channels, pains should be taken to bring it back again to the matter in hand —
but with due consideration to the company present; for we are not all
interested in the same things at all times or in the same degree. We must
observe, too, how far the conversation is agreeable and, as it had a reason for
its beginning, so there should be a point at which to close it tactfully.
{136} XXXVIII.
But as we have a most excellent
rule for every phase of life, to avoid exhibitions of passion, that is, mental
excitement that is excessive and uncontrolled by reason; so our conversation
ought to be free from such emotions: let there be no exhibition of anger or
inordinate desire, of indolence or indifference, or anything of the kind. We
must also take the greatest care to show courtesy and consideration toward
those with whom we converse. It may sometimes happen that there is need of
administering reproof. On such occasions we should, perhaps, use a more
emphatic tone of voice and more forcible and severe terms and even assume an
appearance of being angry. But we shall have recourse to this sort of reproof,
as we do to cautery and amputation, rarely and reluctantly — never at all,
unless it is unavoidable and no other remedy can be discovered. We may seem
angry, but anger should be far from us; for in anger nothing right or judicious
{137}can be done. In most cases, we may apply a mild reproof, so combined,
however, with earnestness, that, while severity is shown, offensive language is
avoided. Nay more; we must show clearly that even that very harsh
The right course, moreover,
even in our differences with our bitterest enemies, is to maintain our dignity
and to repress our anger, even though we are treated outrageously. For what is
done under some degree of excitement cannot be done with perfect self-respect
or the approval of those who witness it. It is bad taste also to talk about
oneself — especially if what one says is not true — and, amid the derision of
one's hearers, to play "The Braggart Captain."[5]
{138} XXXIX.
But since I am
investigating this subject in all its phases (at least, that is my purpose), I
must discuss also what sort of house a man of rank and station should, in my
opinion, have. Its prime object is serviceableness. To this the plan of the
building should be adapted; and yet careful attention should be paid to its
convenience and distinction. We have heard that Gnaeus Octavius — the first of
that family to be elected consul — distinguished himself by building upon the
Palatine an attractive and imposing house. Everybody went to see it, and it was
thought to have gained votes for the owner, a new man, in his canvass for the
consulship. That house Scaurus demolished, and on its site he built an addition
to his own house. Octavius, then, was the first of his family to bring the
honour of a consulship to his house; Scaurus, thought the son of a very great
and illustrious man, brought to the same house, when enlarged, not only defeat,
but disgrace {139}and ruin. The truth is, a man's dignity may be enhanced by
the house he lives in, but not wholly secured by it; the owner should bring
honour to his house, not the house to its owner. And, as in everything else a
man must have regard not for himself alone but for others also, so in the home
of a distinguished man, in which numerous guests must be entertained and crowds
of every sort of people received, care must be taken to have it spacious. But
if it is not frequented by visitors, if it has an air of lonesomeness, a
spacious palace often becomes a discredit to its owner. This is sure to be the
case if at some other time, when it had a different owner, it used to be
thronged. For it is unpleasant, when passers-by remark:
"O good old house, alas! how
different
The owner who now owneth thee!
The owner who now owneth thee!
And in these times that may
be said of many a house!"
{140} One must be careful,
too, not to go beyond proper bounds in expense and display, especially if one
is building for oneself. For much mischief is done in their way, if only in the
example set. For many people imitate zealously the foibles of the great,
particularly in this direction: for example, who copies the virtues of Lucius
Lucullus, excellent man that he was? But how many there are who have copied the
magnificence of his villas! Some limit should surely be set to this tendency
and it should be reduced at least to a standard of moderation; and by that same
standard of moderation the comforts and wants of life generally should be
regulated. But enough on this part of my theme.
{141} In entering upon any
course of action, then, we must hold fast to three principles: first, that
impulse shall obey reason; for there is no better way than this to secure the
observance of duties; second, that we estimate carefully the importance of the
object that we wish to accomplish, so that neither more nor less care and
attention may be expended upon it than the case requires; the third principle
is that we be careful to observe moderation in all that is essential to the
outward appearance and dignity of a gentleman. Moreover, the best rule for
securing this is strictly to observe that propriety which we have discussed
above, and not to overstep it. Yet of these three principles, the one of prime
importance is to keep impulse subservient to reason.
{142} XL.
Next, then, we must discuss
orderliness of conduct and seasonableness of occasions. These two qualities are
embraced in that science which the Greeks call eutaxin (eutaxin) — not that eutaxia which we translate with moderation [modestia], derived from
moderate; but this is the eutaxia (eutaxia) by which
we understand orderly conduct. And so, if we may call it also moderation, it is
defined by the Stoics as follows: "Moderation is the science of disposing
aright everything that is done or said." So the essence of orderliness and
of right-placing, it seems, will be the same; for orderliness they define also
as "the arrangement of things in their suitable and appropriate
places." By "place of action," moreover, they mean
seasonableness of circumstance; and the seasonable circumstance for an action
is called in Greek eukairia (eukairia), in
Latin occasio (occasion). So it comes about that in this sense moderation,
which we explain as I have indicated, is the science of doing the right thing
at the right time.
{143} A similar definition
can be given for prudence, of which I have spoken in an early chapter. But in
this part we are considering temperance and self-control and related virtues.
Accordingly, the properties which, as we found, are peculiar to prudence were
discussed in their proper place, while those are to be discussed now which are
peculiar to these virtues of which we have for some time been speaking and
which relate to considerateness and to approbation of our fellow-men.
{144} Such orderliness of
conduct is, therefore, to be observed, that everything in the conduct of our
life shall balance and harmonize, as in a finished speech. For it is unbecoming
and highly censurable, when upon a serious theme, to introduce such jests as
are proper at a dinner, or any sort of loose talk. When Pericles was associated
with the poet Sophocles as his colleague in command and they had met to confer
about official business that concerned them both, a handsome boy chanced to
pass and Sophocles said: "Look, Pericles; what a pretty boy!" How
pertinent was Pericles's reply: "Hush, Sophocles, a general should keep
not only his hands but his eyes under control." And yet, if Sophocles had
made this same remark at a trial of athletes, he would have incurred no just
reprimand. So great is the significance of both place and circumstance. For
example, if anyone, while on a journey or on a walk, should rehearse to himself
a case which he is preparing to conduct in court, or if he should under similar
circumstances apply his closest thought to some other subject, he would not be
open to censure: but if he should do that same thing at a dinner, he would be
thought ill-bred, because he ignored the proprieties of the occasion.
{145} But flagrant breaches
of good breeding like singing in the streets or any other gross misconduct, are
easily apparent and do not call especially for admonition and instruction. But
we must even more carefully avoid those seemingly trivial faults which pass
unnoticed by the many. However slightly out of tune a harp or flute may be, the
fault is still detected by a connoisseur; so we must be on the watch lest haply
something in our life be out of tune — nay, rather, far greater is the need for
painstaking, inasmuch as harmony of actions is far better and far more
important than harmony of sounds.
{146} XLI.
As, therefore, a musical
ear detects even the slightest falsity of tone in a harp, so we, if we wish to
be keen and careful observers of moral faults, shall often draw important
conclusions from trifles. We observe others and from a glance of the eyes, from
a contracting or relaxing of the brows, from an air of sadness, from an
outburst of joy, from a laugh, from speech from silence, from a raising or
lowering of the voice, and the like, we shall easily judge which of our actions
is proper, and which is out of accord with duty and Nature. And, in the same
manner, it is not a bad plan to judge of the nature of our every action by
studying others, that so we may ourselves avoid anything that is unbecoming in
them. For it happens somehow or other that we detect another's failings more
readily than we do our own; and so in the school-room those pupils learn most
easily to do better whose faults the masters mimic for the sake of correcting
them.
{147} Nor is it out of
place in making a choice between duties involving a doubt, to consult men of
learning or practical wisdom and to ascertain what their views are on any
particular question of duty. For the majority usually drift as the current of
their own natural inclinations carries them; and in deriving counsel from one
of these, we have to see not only what our adviser says, but also what he thinks,
and what his reasons are for thinking as he does. For, as painters and
sculptors and even poets, too, wish to have their works reviewed by the public,
in order that, if any point is generally criticized, it may be improved; and as
they try to discover both by themselves and with the help of others what is
wrong in their work; so through consulting the judgment of others we find that
there are many things to be done and left undone, to be altered and improved.
{148} But no rules need to
be given about what is done in accordance with the established customs and
conventions of a community; for these are in themselves rules; and no one ought
to make the mistake of supposing that, because Socrates or Aristippus did or
said something contrary to the manners and established customs of their city,
he has a right to do the same; it was only by reason of their great and
superhuman virtues that those famous men acquired this special privilege. But
the Cynics' whole system of philosophy must be rejected, for it is inimical to
moral sensibility, and without moral sensibility nothing can be upright,
nothing morally good.
{149} It is, furthermore,
our duty to honour and reverence those whose lives are conspicuous for conduct
in keeping with their high moral standards, and who, as true patriots, have
rendered or are now rendering efficient service to their country, just as much
as if they were invested with some civil or military authority; it is our duty
also to show proper respect to old age, to yield precedence to magistrates, to
make a distinction between a fellow-citizen and a foreigner, and, in the case
of the foreigner himself, to discriminate according to whether he has come in
an official or a private capacity. In a word, not to go into details, it is our
duty to respect, defend, and maintain the common bonds of union and fellowship
subsisting between all the members of the human race.
{150} XLII.
Now in regard to trades and
other means of livelihood, which ones are to be considered becoming to a
gentleman and which ones are vulgar, we have been taught, in general, as
follows. First, those means of livelihood are rejected as undesirable which
incur people's ill-will, as those of tax-gatherers and usurers. Unbecoming to a
gentleman, too, and vulgar are the means of livelihood of all hired workmen
whom we pay for mere manual labour, not for artistic skill; for in their case
the very wage they receive is a pledge of their slavery. Vulgar we must
consider those also who buy from wholesale merchants to retail immediately; for
they would get no profits without a great deal of downright lying; and verily,
there is no action that is meaner than misrepresentation. And all mechanics are
engaged in vulgar trades; for no workshop can have anything liberal about it.
Least respectable of all are those trades which cater for sensual pleasures:
Fishmongers, butchers,
cooks, and poulterers,
And fishermen,
And fishermen,
as Terence says. Add to
these, if you please, the perfumers, dancers, and the whole corps de ballet./a
{151} But the professions in
which either a higher degree of intelligence is required or from which no small
benefit to society is derived — medicine and architecture, for example, and
teaching — these are proper for those whose social position they become. Trade,
if it is on a small scale, is to be considered vulgar; but if wholesale and on
a large scale, importing large quantities from all parts of the world and
distributing to many without misrepresentation, it is not to be greatly
disparaged. Nay, it even seems to deserve the highest respect, if those who are
engaged in it, satiated, or rather, I should say, satisfied with the fortunes
they have made, make their way from the port to a country estate, as they have
often made it from the sea into port. But of all the occupations by which gain
is secured, none is better than agriculture, none more profitable, none more
delightful, none more becoming to a freeman. But since I have discussed this
quite fully in my Cato Major, you will find there the material that applies to
this point.
{152} XLIII.
Now, I think I have
explained fully enough how moral duties are derived from the four divisions of
moral rectitude. But between those very actions which are morally right, a
conflict and comparison may frequently arise, as to which of two actions is
morally better — a point overlooked by Panaetius. For, since all moral
rectitude springs from four sources (one of which is prudence; the second,
social instinct; the third, courage; the fourth, tem a The ludus talarius was a
kind of low variety show, with loose songs and dances and bad music.
?? perance), it is often
necessary in deciding a question of duty that these virtues be weighed against
one another.
{153} My view, therefore,
is that those duties are closer to Nature which depend upon the social instinct
than those which depend upon knowledge; and this view can be confirmed by the
following argument: (1) suppose that a wise man should be vouchsafed such a
life that, with an abundance of everything pouring in upon him, he might in
perfect peace study and ponder over everything that is worth knowing, still, if
the solitude were so complete that he could never see a human being, he would
die. And then, the foremost of all virtues is wisdom — at the Greeks call sofian (sophian); for by prudence, which they call fronesin (phronesin), we understand something else, namely, the
practical knowledge of things to be sought for and of things to be avoided. (2)
Again, that wisdom which I have given the foremost place is the knowledge of
things human and divine, which is concerned also with the bonds of union
between gods and men and the relations of man to man. If wisdom is the most
important of the virtues, as it certainly is, it necessarily follows that that
duty which is connected with the social obligation is the most important duty.[6] and (3) service is better
than mere theoretical_knowledge, for the study and knowledge of the universe
would somehow be lame and defective, were no practical results to follow. Such
results, moreover, are best seen in the safeguarding of human interests. It is
essential, then, to human society; and it should, therefore, be ranked above
speculative knowledge.
{154} Upon this all the
best men agree, as they prove by their conduct. For who is so absorbed in the
investigation and study of creation, but that, even though he were working and
pondering over tasks never so much worth mastering and even though he thought
he could number the stars and measure the length and breadth of the universe,
he would drop all those problems and cast them aside, if word were suddenly
brought to him of some critical peril to his country, which he could relieve or
repel? And he would do the same to further the interests of parent or friend or
to save him from danger.
{155} From all this we
conclude that the duties prescribed by justice must be given precedence over
the pursuit of knowledge and the duties imposed by it; for the former concern
the welfare of our fellow-men; and nothing ought to be more sacred in men's
eyes than that.
XLIV.
And yet scholars, whose
whole life and interests have been devoted to the pursuit of knowledge, have
not, after all, failed to contribute to the advantages and blessings of
mankind. For they have trained many to be better citizens and to render larger
service to their country. So, for example, the Pythagorean Lysis taught
Epaminondas of Thebes; Plato, Dion of Syracuse; and many, many others. As for
me myself, whatever service I have rendered to my country — if, indeed, I have
rendered any — I came to my task trained and equipped for it by my {156}
teachers and what they taught me. And not only while present in the flesh
memorials of their learning they continue the same service after they are dead.
For they have overlooked no point that has a bearing upon laws, customs or
political science; in fact, they seem to have devoted their retirement to the
benefit of us who are engaged in public business. The principal thing done,
therefore, by those very devotees of the pursuits of learning and science is to
apply their own practical wisdom and insight to the service of humanity. And
for that reason also much speaking (if only it contain wisdom) is better than
speculation never so profound without speech; for mere speculation is
self-centred, while speech extends its benefits to those with whom we are
united by the bonds of society.
{157} And again, as swarms
of bees do not gather for the sake of making honeycomb but make the honeycomb
because they are gregarious by nature, so human beings — and to a much higher
degree — exercise their skill together in action and thought because they are
naturally gregarious. And so, if that virtue which centres in the safeguarding
of human interests, that is, in the maintenance of human society, were not to
accompany the pursuit of knowledge, that knowledge would seem isolated and
barren of results. In the same way, courage [Fortitude], if unrestrained by the
uniting bonds of society, would be but a sort of brutality and savagery. Hence
it follows that the claims of human society and the bonds that unite men
together take precedence of the pursuit of speculative knowledge.
{158} And it is not true,
as certain people maintain, that the bonds of union in human society were
instituted in order to provide for the needs of daily life; for, they say, without
the aid of others we could not secure for ourselves or supply to others the
things that Nature requires; but if all that is essential to our wants and
comfort were supplied by some magic wand, as in the stories, then every man of
first-rate ability could drop all other responsibility and devote himself
exclusively to learning and study. Not at all. For he would seek to escape from
his loneliness and to find someone to share his studies; he would wish to
teach, as well as to learn; to hear, as well as to speak. Every duty,
therefore, that tends effectively to maintain and safeguard human society
should be given the preference over that duty which arises from speculation and
science alone.
{159} XLV.
The following question
should, perhaps, be asked: whether this social instinct, which is the deepest
feeling in our nature, is always to have precedence over temperance and
moderation also. I think not. For there are some acts either so repulsive or so
wicked, that a wise man would not commit them, even to save his country.
Posidonius has made a large collection of them; but some of them are so
shocking, so indecent, that it seems immoral even to mention them. The wise
man, therefore, will not think of doing any such thing for the sake of his
country; no more will his country consent to have it done for her. But the
problem is the more easily disposed of because the occasion cannot arise when
it could be to the state's interest to have the wise man do any of those
things.
{160} This, then, may be
regarded as settled: in choosing between conflicting duties, that class takes
precedence which is demanded by the interests of human society. [And this is
the natural sequence; for discreet action will presuppose learning and
practical wisdom; it follows, therefore, that discreet action is of more value
than wise (but inactive) speculation.] So much must suffice for this topic.
For, in its essence, it has been made so clear, that in determining a question
of duty it is not difficult to see which duty is to be preferred to any other.
Moreover, even in the
social relations themselves there are gradations of duty so well defined that
it can easily be seen which duty takes precedence of any other: our first duty
is to the immortal gods; our second, to country; our third, to parents; and so
on, in a descending scale, to the rest.
{161} From this brief
discussion, then, it can be understood that people are often in doubt not only
whether an action is morally right or wrong, but also, when a choice is offered
between two moral actions, which one is morally better. This point, as I
remarked above, has been overlooked by Panaetius. But let us now pass on to
what remains.
{1} I believe, Marcus, my
son, that I have fully explained in the preceding book how duties are derived
from moral rectitude, or rather from each of virtue's four divisions. My next
step is to trace out those kinds of duty which have to do with the comforts of
life, with the means of acquiring the things that people enjoy, with influence,
and with wealth. [In this connection, the question is, as I said: (1) what is
expedient, and what is inexpedient; and (2) of several expedients, which is of
more and which of most importance.] These questions I shall proceed to discuss,
after I have said a few words in vindication of my present purpose and my
principles of philosophy.
{2}Although my books have
aroused in not a few men the desire not only to read but to write, yet I
sometimes fear that what we term philosophy is distasteful to certain worthy
gentlemen, and that they wonder that I devote so much time and attention to it.
Now, as long as the state was administered by the men to whose care she had
voluntarily entrusted herself, I devoted all my effort and thought to her. But
when everything passed under the absolute control of a despot and there was no
longer any room for statesmanship or authority of mine; and finally when I had
lost the friends[7] who had been associated with me in the task of serving the
interests of the state, and who were men of the highest standing, I did not
resign myself to grief, by which I should have been overwhelmed, had I not
struggled against it; neither, on the other hand, did I surrender myself to a
life of sensual pleasure unbecoming to a philosopher.
{3} I would that the
government had stood fast in the position it had begun to assume and had not
fallen'into the hands of men who desired not so much to reform as to abolish
the constitution.
For then, in the first place, I should now be devoting my energies more to
public speaking than to writing as I used to do when the republic stood; and in
the second place, I should be committing to written form not these present
essays but my public speeches, as I often formerly did. But when the republic,
to which all my care and thought and effort used to be devoted, was no more,
then, of course, my voice was {4} silenced in the forum and in the senate. And
since my mind could not be wholly idle, I thought, as I had been well-read
along these lines of thought from my early youth, that the most honourable way
for me to forget my sorrows would be by turning to philosophy. As a young man,
I had devoted a great deal of time to philosophy as a discipline; but after I
began to fill the high offices of state and devoted myself heart and soul to
the public service, there was only so much time for philosophical studies as
was left over from the claims of my friends and o the state; all of this was
spent in reading; I had no leisure for writing.
{5} II.
Therefore, amid all the
present most awful calamities I yet flatter myself that I have won this good
out of evil — that I may commit to written form matters not at all familiar to
our countrymen but still very much worth their knowing. For what, in the name
of heaven, is more to be desired than wisdom? What is more to be prized? What
is better for a man, what more worthy of his nature? Those who seek after it
are called philosophers; and philosophy is nothing else, if one will translate
the word into our idiom, than "the love of wisdom." Wisdom, morever,
as the word has been defined by the philosophers of old, is "the knowledge
of things human and divine and of the causes by which those things are controlled."
And if the man lives who would belittle the study of philosophy, I quite fail
to see what in the world he would see fit to {6} praise. For if we are looking
for mental enjoyment and relaxation, what pleasure can be compared with the
pursuits of those who are always studying out something that will tend toward
and effectively promote a good and happy life? Or, if regard is had for
strength of character and virtue, then this is the method by which we can
attain to those qualities, or there is none at all. And to say that there is no
"method" for securing the highest blessings, when none even of the
least important concerns is without its method, is the language of people who
talk without due reflection and blunder in matters of the utmost importance.
Furthermore, if there is really a way to learn virtue, where shall one look for
it, when one has turned aside from this field of learning? Now, when I am
advocating the study of philosophy, I usually discuss this subject at greater
length, as I have done in another of my books. For the present I meant only to
explain why, deprived of the tasks of public service, I have devoted myself to
this particular pursuit.
{7} But people raise other
objections against me — and that, too, philosophers and scholars — asking
whether I think I am quite consistent in my conduct — for although our school
maintains that nothing can be known for certain, yet, they urge, I make a habit
of presenting my opinions on all sorts of subjects and at this very moment am
trying to formulate rules of duty. But I wish that they had a proper
understanding of our position. For we Academicians are not men whose minds
wander in uncertainty and never know what principles to adopt. For what sort of
mental habit, or rather what sort of life would that be which should dispense
with all rules for reasoning or even for living? Not so with us; but, as other
schools maintain that some things are certain, others uncertain, we, differing
with them, say that some things are probable, others improbable.
{8} What, then, is to
hinder me from accepting what seems to me to be probable, while rejecting what
seems to be improbable, and from shunning the presumption of dogmatism, while
keeping clear of that recklessness of assertion which is as far as possible
removed from true wisdom? And as to the fact that our school argues against
everything, that is only because we could not get a clear view of what is
"probable," unless a comparative estimate were made of all the
arguments on both sides. But this subject has been, I think, quite fully set
forth in my "Academics." And although, my dear Cicero, you are a
student of that most ancient and celebrated school of philosophy, with
Cratippus as your master — and he deserves to be classed with the founders of
that illustrious sect[8] — still I wish our school, which is closely related to yours, not
to be unknown to you. Let us now proceed to the task in hand.
{9} III.
Five principles,
accordingly, have been laid down for the pursuance of duty: two of them have to
do with propriety and moral rectitude; two, with the external conveniences of
life — means, wealth, influence; the fifth, with the proper choice, if ever the
four first mentioned seem to be in conflict. The division treating of moral
rectitude, then, has been completed, and this is the part with which I desire
you to be most familiar. The principle with which we are now dealing is that
one which is called Expediency. The usage of this word has been corrupted and
perverted and has gradually come to the point where, separating moral rectitude
from expediency, it is accepted that a thing may be morally right without being
expedient, and expedient without being morally right. No more pernicious
doctrine than this could be introduced into human life.
{10} There are, to be sure,
philosophers of the very highest reputation who distinguish theoretically
between these three conceptions,[9] although they are
indissolubly blended together; and they do this, I assume, on moral,
conscientious principles. (For whatever is just, they hold, is also expedient;
and, in like manner, whatever is morally right is also just. It follows, then,
that whatever is morally right is also expedient.) Those who fail to comprehend
that theory do often, in their admiration for shrewd and clever men, take
craftiness for wisdom. But they must be disabused of this error and their way
of thinking must be wholly converted to the hope and conviction that it is only
by moral character and righteousness, not by dishonesty and craftiness, that
they may attain to the objects of their desires.
{11} Of the things, then,
that are essential to the sustenance of human life, some are inanimate (gold
and silver, for example, the fruits of the earth, and so forth), and some are
animate and have their own peculiar instincts and appetites. Of these again
some are rational, others irrational. Horses, oxen, and the other cattle,
[bees,] whose labour contributes more or less to the service and subsistence of
man, are not endowed with reason; of rational beings two divisions are
made-gods and men. Worship and purity of character will win the favour of the
gods; and next to the gods, and a close second to them, men can be most helpful
to men.
{12} The same
classification may likewise be made of the things that are injurious and
hurtful. But, as people think that the gods bring us no harm, they decide
(leaving the gods out of the question) that men are most hurtful to men. As for
mutual helpfulness, those very things which we have called inanimate are for
the most part themselves produced by man's labours; we should not have them
without the application of manual labour and skill nor could we enjoy them
without the intervention of man. And so with many other things: for without
man's industry there could have been no provisions for health, no navigation,
no agriculture, no ingathering or storing of the {13} fruits of the field or
other kinds of produce. Then, too, there would surely be no exportation of our
superfluous commodities or importation of those we lack, did not men perform
these services. By the same process of reasoning, without the labour of man's
hands, the stone needful for our use would not be quarried from the earth, nor
would "iron, copper, gold, and silver, hidden far within," be mined.
IV.
And how could houses ever
have been provided in the first place for the human race, to keep out the
rigours of the cold and alleviate the discomforts of the heat; or how could the
ravages of furious tempest or of earthquake or of time upon them afterward have
been repaired, had not the bonds of social life taught men in such events to
{14} look to their fellow-men for help? Think of the aqueducts, canals,
irrigation works, breakwaters, artificial harbours; how should we have these
without the work of man? From these and many other illustrations it is obvious
that we could not in any way, without the work of man's hands, have received
the profits and the benefits accruing from inanimate things. Finally, of what
profit or service could animals be, without the cooperation of man? For it was
men who were the foremost in discovering what use could be made of each beast;
and to-day, if it were not for man's labour, we could neither feed them nor
break them in nor take care of them nor yet secure the profits from them in due
season. By man, too, noxious beasts are destroyed, and those that can be of use
are captured. {15} Why should I recount the multitude of arts without which
life would not be worth living at all? For how would the sick be healed? What
pleasure would the hale enjoy? What comforts should we have, if there were not
so many arts to master to our wants? In all these respects the civilized life
of man is far removed from the standard of the comforts and wants of the lower
animals. And, without the association of men, cities could not have been built
or peopled. In consequence of city life, laws and customs were established, and
then came the equitable distribution of private rights and a definite social
system. Upon these institutions followed a more humane spirit and consideration
for others, with the result that life was better supplied with all it requires,
and by giving and receiving, by mutual exchange of commodities and
conveniences, we succeeded in meeting all our wants.
{16} V.
I have dwelt longer on this
point than was necessary. For who is there to whom those facts which Panaetius
narrates at great length are not self-evident — namely, that no one, either as
a general in war or as a statesman at home, could have accomplished great
things for the benefit of the state, without the hearty co-operation of other
men? He cites the deeds of Themistocles, Pericles, Cyrus, Agesilaus, Alexander,
who, he says, could not have achieved so great success without the suuport of
other men. He calls in witnesses, whom he does not need, to prove a fact that
no one questions. And yet, as, on the one hand, we secure great advantages
through the sympathetic cooperation of our fellow-men; so, on the other, there
is no curse so terrible but it is brought down by man upon man. There is a book
by Dicaearchus on "The Destruction of Human Life." He was a famous
and eloquent Peripatetic, and he gathered together all the other causes of
destruction — floods, epidemics, famines, and sudden incursions of wild animals
in myriads, by whose assaults, he informs us, whole tribes of men have been
wiped out. And then he proceeds to show by way of comparison how many more men
have been destroyed by the assaults of men — that is, by wars or revolutions —
than by any and all other sorts of calamity. {17} Since, therefore, there can
be no doubt on this point, that man is the source of both the greatest help and
the greatest harm to man, I set it down as the peculiar function of virtue to
win the hearts of men and to attach them to one's own service. And so those
benefits that human life derives from inanimate objects and from the employment
and use of animals are ascribed to the industrial arts; the cooperation of men,
on the other hand, prompt and ready for the advancement of our interests, is
secured through wisdom and virtue [in men of superior {18} ability]. And,
indeed, virtue in general may be said to consist almost wholly in three
properties; the first is the ability to perceive what in any given instance is
true and real, what its relations are, its consequences, and its causes; the
second is, the ability to restrain the passions, which the Greeks call paqh (pathe), and make the impulse's (hormas) obedient
to reason; and the third is, the skill to treat with consideration and wisdom
those with whom we are associated, in order that we may through their
cooperation have our natural wants supplied in full and overflowing measure,
that we may ward of any impending trouble, avenge ourselves upon those who have
attempted to injure us, and visit them with such retribution as justice and
humanity will permit.
{19} VI.
I shall presently discuss
the means by which we can gain the ability to win and hold the affections of
our fellow-men; but I must say a few words by way of preface. Who fails to
comprehend the enormous, two-fold power of Fortune for weal and for woe? When
we enjoy her favouring breeze, we are waited over to the wished-for haven; when
she blows against us, we are dashed to destruction. Fortune herself, then, does
send those other less usual calamities, arising, first, from inanimate Nature —
hurricanes, storms, shipwrecks, catastrophes, conflagrations; second, from wild
beasts — kicks, bites, and attacks. But these, as I have said, are
comparatively rare.
{20} But think, on the one
side, of the destruction of armies (three lately, and many others at many
different times), the loss of generals (of a very able and eminent commander
recently), the hatred of the masses, too, and the banishment that as a
consequence frequently comes to men of eminent services, their degradation and
voluntary exile; think, on the other hand, of the successes, the civil and
military honours, and the victories, — though all these contain an element of
chance, still they cannot be brought about, whether for good or for ill,
without the influence and the cooperation of our fellow-men. With this
understanding of the influence of Fortune, I may proceed to explain how we can
win. the affectionate cooperation of our fellows and enlist it in our service.
And if the discussion of this point is unduly prolonged, let the length be
compared with the importance of the object in view. It will then, perhaps, seem
even too short.
{21} Whenever, then, people
bestow anything upon a fellow-man to raise his estate or his dignity, it may be
from any one of several motives: (1) it may be out of good-will, when for some
reason they are fond of him; (2) it may be from esteem, if they look up to his
worth and think him deserving of the most splendid fortune a man can have; (3)
they may have confidence in him and think that they are thus acting for their
own interests; or (4) they may fear his power; (5) they may, on the contrary,
hope for some favour — as, for example, when princes or demagogues bestow gifts
of money; or, finally, (6) they may be moved by the promise of payment or
reward. This last is, I admit, the meanest and most sordid motive of all, both
for those who are swayed by it and for those who venture to {22} resort to it.
For things are in a bad way, when that which should be obtained by merit is
attempted by money. But since recourse to this kind of support is sometimes
indispensable, I shall explain how it should be employed; but first I shall
discuss those qualities which are more closely allied to merit. Now, it is by
various motives that people are led to submit to another's authority and power:
they may be influenced (1) by good-will; (2) by gratitude for generous favours
conferred upon them; (3) by the eminence of that other's social position or by
the hope that their submission will turn to their own account; (4) by fear that
they may be compelled perforce to submit; (5) they may be captivated by the
hope of gifts of money and by liberal promises; or, finally, (6) they may be
bribed with money, as we have frequently seen in our own country.
{23} VII.
But, of all motives, none
is better adapted to secure influence and hold it fast than love; nothing is
more foreign to that end than fear. For Ennius says admirably:
Whom they fear they hate. And whom one hates,
one hopes to see him dead.
And we recently discovered,
if it was not known before, that no amount of power can withstand the hatred of
the many. The death of this tyrant,[10] whose yoke the state
endured under the constraint of armed force and whom it still obeys more humbly
than ever, though he is dead, illustrates the deadly effects of popular hatred;
and the same lesson is taught by the similar fate of all other despots, of whom
practically no one has ever escaped such a death. For fear is but a poor
safeguard of lasting power; while affection, on the other hand, may be trusted
to keep it safe for ever.
{24} But those who keep
subjects in check by force would of course have to employ severity — masters,
for example, toward their servants, when these cannot be held in control in any
other way. But those who in a free state deliberately put themselves in a
position to be feared are the maddest of the mad. For let the laws be never so
much overborne by some one individual's power, let the spirit of freedom be
never so intimidated, still sooner or later they assert themselves either
through unvoiced public sentiment, or through secret ballots disposing of some
high office of state. Freedom suppressed and again regained bites with keener
fangs than freedom never endangered. Let us, then, embrace this policy, which appeals
to every heart and is the strongest support not only of security but also of
influence and power — namely, to banish fear and cleave to love. And thus we
shall most easily secure success both in private and in public life.
Furthermore, those who wish to be feared must inevitably be afraid of those
whom they intimidate. {25} What, for instance, shall we think of the elder
Dionysius? With what tormenting fears he used to be racked! For through fear of
the barber's razor he used to have his hair singed off with a glowing coal. In
what state of mind do we fancy Alexander of Pherae lived? We read in history
that he dearly loved his wife Thebe; and yet, whenever he went from the banquet
— hall to her in her chamber, he used to order a barbarian — one, too, tattooed
like a Thracian, as the records state — to go before him with a drawn sword;
and he used to send ahead some of his bodyguard to pry into the lady's caskets
and to search and see whether some weapon were not concealed in her wardrobe.
Unhappy man! To think a barbarian, a branded slave, more faithful than his own
wife! Nor was he mistaken. For he was murdered by her own hand, because she
suspected him of infidelity. And indeed no power is strong enough to be last
ing {26}if it labours under the weight of fear. Witness Phalaris, whose cruelty
is notorious beyond that of all others. He was slain, not treacherously (like
that Alexander whom I named but now), not by a few conspirators (like that
tyrant of ours), but the whole population of Agrigentum rose against him with
one accord. Again, did not the Macedonians abandon Demetrius and march over as
one man to Pyrrhus? And again, when the Spartans exercised their supremacy
tyrannically, did not practically all the allies desert them and view their
disaster at Leuctra, as idle spectators?
VIII.
I prefer in this connection
to draw my illustrations from foreign history rather than from our own. Let me
add, however, that as long as the empire of the Roman People maintained itself
by acts of service, not of oppression, wars were waged in the interest of our
allies or to safeguard our supremacy; the end of our wars was marked by acts of
clemency or by only a necessary degree of severity; the senate was a haven of
refuge for kings, tribes, {27} and nations; and the highest ambition of our
magistrates and generals was to defend our provinces and allies with justice
and honour. And so our government could be called more accurately a
protectorate of the world than a dominion. This policy and practice we had
begun gradually to modify even before Sulla's time; but since his victory we
have departed from it altogether. For the time had gone by when any oppression
of the allies could appear wrong, seeing that atrocities so outrageous were
committed against Roman citizens. In Sulla's case, therefore, an unrighteous
victory disgraced a righteous cause. For when he had planted his spear[11] and was selling under the
hammer in the forum the property of men who were patriots and men of wealth
and, at least, Roman citizens, he had the effrontery to announce that "he
was selling his spoils." After him came one who, in an unholy cause, made
an even more shameful use of victory; for he did not stop at confiscating the
property of individual citizens, but actually embraced whole provinces and
countries in one common ban of ruin. {28} And so, when foreign nations had been
oppressed and ruined, we have seen a model of Marseilles carried in a triumphal
procession, to serve as proof to the world that the supremacy of the people had
been forfeited; and that triumph we saw celebrated over a city without whose
help our generals have never gained a triumph for their wars beyond the Alps. I
might mention many other outrages against our allies, if the sun had ever
beheld anything more infamous than this particular one. Justly, therefore, are
we being punished. For if we had not allowed the crimes of many to go
unpunished, so great licence would never have centred in one individual. His
estate descended by inheritance to but a few individuals, {29} his ambitions to
many scoundrels. And never will the seed and occasion of civil war be wanting,
so long as villains remember that bloodstained spear and hope to see another.
As Publius Sulla wielded that spear, when his kinsman was dictator, so again
thirty-six years later he did not shrink from a still more criminal spear. And
still another Sulla, who was a mere clerk under the former dictatorship, was
under the later one a city quaestor. From this, one would realize that, if such
rewards are offered, civil wars will never cease to be. And so in Rome only the
walls of her houses remain standing — and even they wait now in fear of the
most unspeakable crimes — but our republic we have lost for ever. But to return
to my subject: it is while we have preferred to be the object of fear rather
than of love and affection, that all these misfortunes have fallen upon us. And
if such retribution could overtake the Roman People for their injustice and
tyranny, what ought private individuals to expect? And since it is manifest
that the power of good-will is so great and that of fear is so weak, it remains
for us to discuss by what means we can most readily win the affection, linked
with honour and confidence, which we desire. {30} But we do not all feel this
need to the same extent; for it must be determined in conformity with each
individual's vocation in life whether it is essential for him to have the
affection of many or whether the love of a few will suffice. Let this then be
settled as the first and absolute essential — that we have the devotion of
friends, affectionate and loving, who value our worth. For in just this one
point there is but little difference between the greatest and the ordinary man;
and friendship is to be cultivated almost equally by both.
{31} All men do not,
perhaps, stand equally in need of political honour, fame and the good-will of
their fellow-citizens; nevertheless, if these honours come to a man, they help
in many ways, and especially in the acquisition of friends.
IX.
But friendship has been
discussed in another book of mine, entitled "Laelius." Let us now
take up the discussion of Glory, although I have published two books[12] on that subject also.
Still, let us touch briefly on it here, since it is of very great help in the
conduct of more important business. The highest, truest glory depends upon the
following three things: the affection, the confidence, and the mingled
admiration and esteem of the people. Such sentiments, if I may speak plainly
and concisely, are awakened in the masses in the same way as in individuals.
But there is also another avenue of approach to the masses, by which we can, as
it were, steal into the hearts of all at once.
{32} But of the three
above-named requisites, let us look first at good-will and the rules for securing
it. Good-will is won principally through kind services;[13] next to that, it is
elicited by the will to do a kind service, even though nothing happen to come
of it. Then, too, the love of people generally is powerfully attracted by a
man's mere name and reputation for generosity, kindness, justice, honour, and
all those virtues that belong to gentleness of character and affability of
manner. And because that very quality which we term moral goodness and
propriety is pleasing to us by and of itself and touches all our hearts both by
its inward essence and its outward aspect and shines forth with most lustre
through those virtues named above, we are, therefore, compelled by Nature
herself to love those in whom we believe those virtues to reside. Now these are
only the most powerful motives to love — not all of them; there may be some
minor ones besides.
{33] Secondly, the command
of confidence can be secured on two conditions: (1) if people think us
possessed of practical wisdom combined with a sense of justice. For we have
confidence in those who we think have more understanding than ourselves, who,
we believe, have better insight into the future, and who, when an emergency
arises and a crisis comes, can clear away the diffculties and reach a safe
decision according to the exigencies of the occasion; for that kind of wisdom
the world accounts genuine and practical. But (2) confidence is reposed in men
who are just and true — that is, good men — on the definite assumption that
their characters admit of no suspicion of dishonesty or wrong-doing. And so we
believe that it is perfectly safe to entrust our lives, our fortunes, and our
children to their care.
{34} Of these two
qualities, then, justice has the greater power to inspire confidence; for even
without the aid of wisdom, it has considerable weight; but wisdom without
justice is of no avail to inspire confidence; for take from a man his
reputation for probity, and the more shrewd and clever he is, the more hated
and mistrusted he becomes. Therefore, justice combined with practical wisdom
will command all the confidence we can desire; justice without wisdom will be
able to do much; wisdom without justice will be of no avail at all.
{35} X.
But I am afraid someone may
wonder why I am now separating the virtues — as if it were possible for anyone
to be just who is not at the same time wise; for it is agreed upon among all
philosophers, and I myself have often argued, that he who has one virtue has
them all. The explanation of my apparent inconsistency is that the precision of
speech we employ, when abstract truth is critically investigated in philosophic
discussion, is one thing; and that employed, when we are adapting our language
entirely to popular thinking, is another. And therefore I am speaking here in
the popular sense, when I call some men brave, others good, and still others
wise; for in dealing with popular conceptions we must employ familiar words in
their common acceptation; and this was the practice of Panaetius likewise But
let us return to the subject.
{36} The third, then, of
the three conditions I name as essential to glory is that we be accounted
worthy of the esteem and admiration of our fellow-men. While people admire in
general everything that is great or better than they expect, they admire in
particular the good qualities that they find unexpectedly in individuals. And
so they reverence and extol with the highest praises those men in whom they see
certain pre-eminent and extraordinary talents; and they look down with contempt
upon those who they think have no ability, no spirit, no energy. For they do
not despise all those of whom they think ill. For some men they consider
unscrupulous, slanderous fraudulent, and dangerous; they do not despise them,
it may be; but they do think ill of them. And therefore, as I said before,
those are despised who are "of no use to themselves or their
neighbours," as the saying is, who are idle, lazy, and indifferent.
{37} On the other hand,
those are regarded with admiration who are thought to excel others in ability
and to be free from all dishonour and also from those vices which others do not
easily resist. For sensual pleasure, a most seductive mistress, turns the
hearts of the greater part of humanity away from virtue; and when the fiery
trial of affliction draws near, most people are terrified beyond measure.
Life and death, wealth and
want affect all men most powerfully. But when men, with a spirit great and
exalted, can look down upon such outward circumstances, whether prosperous or
adverse, and when some noble and virtuous purpose, presented to their minds,
converts them wholly to itself and carries them away in its pursuit, who then
could fail to admire in them the splendour and beauty of virtue?
{38} XI.
As, then, this superiority
of mind to such externals inspires great admiration, so justice, above all, on
the basis of which alone men are called "good men," seems to people
generally a quite marvellous virtue — and not without good reason; for no one
can be just who fears death or pain or exile or poverty, or who values their
opposites above equity. And people admire especially the man who is
uninfluenced by money; and if a man has proved himself in this direction, they
think him tried as by fire. Those three requisites, therefore, which were
presupposed as the means of obtaining glory, are all secured by justice: (1)
good-will, for it seeks to be of help to the greatest number; (2) confidence,
for the same reason; and (3) admiration, because it scorns and cares nothing
for those things, with a consuming passion for which most people are carried
away.
{39} Now, in my opinion at
least, every walk and vocation in life calls for human co-operation — first and
above all, in order that one may have friends with whom to enjoy social
intercourse. And this is not easy, unless he is looked upon as a good man. So,
even to a man who shuns society and to one who spends his life in the country a
reputation for justice is essential — even more have no defence to protect them
and so will be {40} the victims of many kinds of wrong. So also to buyers and
sellers, to employers and employed, and to those who are engaged in commercial
dealings generally, justice is indispensable for the conduct o business. Its
importance is so great, that not even those who live by wickedness and crime
can get on without some small element of justice. For if a robber takes
anything by force or by fraud from another member of the gang, he loses his
standing even in a band of robbers; and if the one called the "Pirate
Captain" should not divide the plunder impartially, he would be either
deserted or murdered by his comrades. Why, they say that robbers even have a
code of laws to observe and obey. And so, because of his impartial division of
booty, Bardulis, the Illyrian bandit, of whom we read in Theopompus, acquired
great power, Viriatlius, of Lusitania, much greater. He actually defied even
our armies and generals. But Gaius Laelius — the one surnamed "the
Wise" — in his praetorship crushed his power, reduced him to terms, and so
checked his intrepid daring, that he left to his successors an easy conquest.
Since, therefore, the efficacy of justice is so great that it strengthens and
augments the power even of robbers, how great do we think its power will be in
a constitutional government with its laws and courts?
{41} XII.
Now it seems to me, at
least, that not only among the Medes, as Herodotus tells us, but also among our
own ancestors, men of high moral character were made kings in order that the
people might enjoy justice. For, as the masses in their helplessness were
oppressed by the strong, they appealed for protection to some one man who was
conspicuous for his virtue; and, as he shielded the weaker classes from wrong,
he managed by establishing equitable conditions to hold the higher and the
lower classes in an equality of right. The reason for making constitutional
laws was the same as that for {42} making kings. For what people have always
sought is equality of rights before the law. For rights that were not open to
all alike would be no rights. If the people secured their end at the hands of
one just and good man, they were satisfied with that; but when such was not
their good fortune, laws were invented, to speak to all men at all times in one
and the same voice. This, then, is obvious: nations used to select for their
rulers those men whose reputation for justice was high in the eyes of the
people. If in addition they were also thought wise, there was nothing that men
did not think they could secure under such leadership. Justice is, therefore,
in every way to be cultivated and maintained, both for its own sake (for
otherwise it would not be justice) and for the enhancement of personal honour
and glory. But as there is a method not only of acquiring money but also of
investing it so as to yield an income to meet our continuously recurring
expenses — both for the necessities and for the more refined comforts of life —
so there must be a method of gaining glory and turning it to account. And yet,
as {43} Socrates used to express it so admirably, "the nearest way to
glory — a short cut, as it were — is to strive to be what you wish to be
thought to be." For if anyone thinks that he can win lasting glory by
pretence, by empty show, deep root and spreads its branches wide; but all pretences
soon fall to the ground like fragile flowers, and nothing counterfeit can be
lasting. There are very many witnesses to both facts; but, for brevity's sake:
I shall confine myself to one family: Tiberius Gracchus, Publius's son, will be
held in honour as long as the memory of Rome shall endure; but his sons were
not approved by patriots while they lived, and since they are dead they are
numbered among those whose murder was justifiable.
XIII.
If, therefore, anyone
wishes to win true glory, let him discharge the duties required by justice. And
what they are has been set forth in the course of the preceding book.
{44} But, although the very
essence of the problem is that we actually be what we wish to be thought to be,
still some rules may be laid down to enable us most easily to secure the
reputation of being what we are. For, if anyone in his early youth has the
responsibility of living up to a distinguished name acquired either by
inheritance from his father (as, I think, my dear Cicero, is your good fortune)
or by some chance or happy combination of circumstances, the eyes of the world
are turned upon him; his life and character are scrutinized; and, as if he
moved in a blaze of light, not a word and not a deed of his {45} can be kept a
secret. Those, on the other hand, whose humble and obscure origin has kept them
unknown to the world in their early years ought, as soon as they approach young
manhood, to set a high ideal before their eyes and to strive with unswerving
zeal towards its realization. This they will do with the better heart, because
that time of life is accustomed to find favour rather than to meet with
opposition. Well, then, the first thing to recommend to a young man in his
quest for glory is that he try to win it, if he can, in a military career.
Among our forefathers many distinguished themselves as soldiers; for warfare
was almost continuous then. The period of your own youth, however, has
coincided with that war in which the one side was too prolific in crime, the
other in failure. And yet, when Pompey placed you in command of a cavalry
squadron in this war, you won the applause of that great man and of the army
for your skill in riding and spear-throwing and for endurance of all the
hardships of the soldier's life. But that credit accorded to you came to
nothing along with the fall of the republic. The subject of this discussion,
however, is not your personal history, but the general theme. Let us,
therefore, proceed to the sequel. {46} As, then, in everything else brain-work
is far more important than mere hand-work, so those objects which we strive to
attain through intellect and reason gain for us a higher degree of gratitude
than those which we strive to gain by physical strength. The best
recommendation, then, that a young man can have to popular esteem proceeds from
self-restraint, filial affection, and devotion to kinsfolk. Next to that, young
men win recognition most easily and most favourably, if they attach themselves
to men who are at once wise and renowned as well as patriotic counsellors in
public affairs. And if they associate constantly with such men, they inspire in
the public the expectation that they will be like them, seeing that they have
themselves selected them {47} for imitation. His frequent visits to the home of
Publius Mucius assisted young Publius Rutilius to gain a reputation for
integrity of character and for ability as a jurisconsult. Not so, however,
Lucius Crassus; for, though he was a mere boy, he looked to no one else for
assistance, but by his own unaided ability he won for himself in that brilliant
and famous prosecution/a a splendid reputation as an orator. And at an age when
young men are accustomed with their school exercises to win applause as
students of oratory, this Roman Demosthenes, Lucius Crassus, was already
proving himself in the law-courts a master of the art which he might even then
have been studyng at home with credit to himself.
{48} XIV.
But as the classification
of discourse is a twofold one — conversation, on the one side; oratory, on the
other — there can be no doubt that of the two this debating power (for that is
what we mean by eloquence) counts for more toward the attainment of glory; and
yet, it is not easy to say how far an affable and courteous manner in
conversation may go toward winning the affections. We have, for instance, the
letters of Philip to Alexander, of Antipater to Cassander, and of Antigonus to
Philip the Younger. The authors of these letters were, as we are informed,
three of the wisest men in history; and in them they instruct their sons to woo
the hearts of the populace to affection by words of kindness and to keep their
soldiers loyal by a winning address. But the speech that is delivered in a
debate before an assembly often stirs the hearts of thousands at once; for the
eloquent and judicious speaker is received with high admiration, and his
hearers think him understanding and wise beyond all others. And, if his speech
have also dignity combined with moderation, he will be admired beyond all
measure, especially if these qualities are found in a young man.
{49} But while there are
occasions of many kinds that call for eloquence, and while many young men in
our republic have obtained distinction by their speeches in the courts, in the
popular assemblies, and in the senate, yet it is the speeches before our courts
that excite the highest admiration. The classification of forensic speeches
also is a twofold one: they are divided into arguments for the prosecution and
arguments for the defence. And while the side of the defence is more
honourable, still that of the prosecution also has very often established a
reputation. I spoke of Crassus a moment ago; Marcus Antonius, when a youth, had
the same success. A prosecution brought the eloquence of Publius Sulpicius into
favourable notice, when he brought an action against Gaius Norbanus, a
seditious {50}and dangerous citizen. But this should not be done often — never,
in fact, except in the interest of the state (as in the cases of those above
mentioned) or to avenge wrongs (as the two Luculli, for example, did) or for
the protection of our provincials (as I did in the defence of the Sicilians, or
Julius in the prosecution of Albucius in behalf of the Sardinians). The
activity of Lucius Fufius in the impeachment of Manius Aquilius is likewise
famous. This sort of work, then, may be done once in a lifetime, or at all
events not often. But if it shall be required of anyone to conduct more
frequent prosecutions, let him do it as a service to his country; for it is no
disgrace to be often employed in the prosecution of her enemies. And yet a
limit should be set even to that. For it requires a heartless man, it seems, or
rather one who is well-nigh inhuman, to be arraigning one person after another
on capital charges./a It is not only fraught with danger to the prosecutor
himself, but is damaging to his reputation, to allow himself to be called a
prosecutor. Such was the effect of this epithet upon Marcus Brutus, the scion
of a very noble family and the son of that Brutus who was an eminent authority
in the civil law.
{51} Again, the following
rule of duty is to be carefully observed: never prefer a capital charge against
any person who may be innocent. For that cannot possibly be done without making
oneself a criminal. For what is so unnatural as to turn to the ruin and
destruction of good men the eloquence bestowed by Nature for the safety and
protection of our fellowmen? And yet, while we should never prosecute the
innocent, we need not have scruples against undertaking on occasion the defence
of a guilty person, provided he be not infamously depraved and wicked. For
people expect it; custom sanctions it; humanity also accepts it. It is always
the business of the judge in a trial to find out the truth; it is sometimes the
business of the advocate to maintain what is plausible, even if it be not
strictly true, though I should not venture to say this, especially in an
ethical treatise, if it were not also the position of Panaetius, that strictest
of Stoics. Then, too, briefs for the defence are most likely to bring glory and
popularity to the pleader, and all the more so, if ever it falls to him to lend
his aid to one who seems to be oppressed and persecuted by the influence of
someone in power. This I have done on many other occasions; and once in
particular, in my younger days, I defended Sextus Roscius of Ameria against the
power of Lucius Sulla when he was acting the tyrant. The speech is published,
as you know.
{52} XV.
Now that I have set forth
the moral duties of a young man, in so far as they may be exerted for the
attainment of glory, I must next in order discuss kindness and generosity. The
manner of showing it is twofold: kindness is shown to the needy either by
personal, or by gifts of money. The latter way is the easier, especially for a
rich man; but the former is nobler and more dignified and more becoming to a
strong and eminent man. For, although both ways alike betray a generous wish to
oblige, still in the one case the favour makes a draft upon one's bank account,
in the other upon one's personal energy; and the bounty which is drawn from
one's material substance tends to exhaust the very fountain of liberality.
Liberality is thus forestalled by liberality: for the more people one has
helped with {53} gifts of money, the fewer one can help. But if people are
generous and kind in the way of personal service — that is, with their ability
and personal effort — various advantages arise: first, the more people they
assist, the more helpers they will have in works of kindness; and second, by
acquiring the habit of kindness they are better prepared and in better
training, as it were, for bestowing favours upon many. In one of his letters
Philip takes his son Alexander sharply to task for trying by gifts of Money to
secure the good-will of the Macedonians: "What in the mischief induced you
to entertain such a hope," he says, "as that those men would be loyal
subjects to you whom you had corrupted with money? Or are you trying to do what
you can to lead the Macedonians to expect that you will be not their king but
their steward and purveyor?" "Steward and purveyor" was well
said, because it was degrading for a prince; better still, when he called the
gift of money "corruption." For the recipient goes from bad to worse
and is made all the more ready to be constantly looking for one bribe after
another. {54} It was to his son that Philip gave this lesson; but let us all
take it diligently to heart. That liberality, therefore, which consists in
personal service and effort is more honourable, has wider application, and can
benefit more people. There can be no doubt about that. Nevertheless, we should
sometimes make gifts of money; and this kind of liberality is not to be
discouraged altogether. We must often distribute from our purse to the worthy
poor, but we must do so with discretion and moderation. For many/a have
squandered their patrimony by indiscriminate giving. But what is worse folly
than to do the thing you like in such a way that you can no longer do it at
all? Then, too, lavish giving leads to robbery;/b for when through over-giving
men begin to be impoverished, they are constrained to lay their hands on the
property of others. And so, when men aim to be kind for the sake of winning
good-will, the affection they gain from the object of their gifts is not so
great as the hatred they incur from those whom they despoil.
{55} One's purse, then,
should not be closed so tightly that a generous impulse should be observed and
that limit should be determined by our means. We ought, in a word, to remember
the phrase, which, through being repeated so very often by our countrymen, has
come to be a common proverb: "Bounty has no bottom." For indeed what
limit can there be, when those who have been accustomed to receive gifts claim
what they have been in the habit of getting, and those who have not wish for
the same bounty?
XVI.
There are, in general, two
classes of those who give largely: the one class is the lavish, the other the
generous. The lavish are those who squander their money on public banquets,
doles of meat among the people, gladiatorial shows, magnificent games, and
wild-beast fights — vanities of which but a brief recollection will remain, or
none at all.
{56} The generous, on the
other hand, are those who employ their own means to ransom captives from
brigands, or who assume their friends' debts or help in providing dowries for
their daughters, or assist them in acquiring property or increasing what they
have. And so I wonder what Theophrastus could have been thinking about when he
wrote his book on "Wealth." It contains much that is fine; but his
position is absurd, when he praises at great length the magnificent
appointments of the popular games, and it is in the means for indulging in such
expenditures that he finds the highest privilege of wealth. But to me the
privilege it gives for the exercise of generosity, of which I have given a few
illustrations, ...
the populace. "If
people in time of siege," he says, "are required to pay a mina for a
pint of water, this seems to us at first beyond belief, and all are amazed;
but, when they think about it, they make allowances for it on the plea of
necessity. But in the matter of this enormous waste and unlimited expenditure
we are not very greatly astonished, and that, too, though by it no extreme need
is relieved, no dignity is enhanced, and the very gratification of the populace
is but for a brief, passing moment; such pleasure as it is, too, is confined to
the most frivolous, and even in these the very memory of their enjoyment dies
as {57} soon as the moment of gratification is past." His conclusion, too,
is excellent: "This sort of amusement pleases children, silly women,
slaves, and the servile free; but a serious-minded man who weighs such matters
with sound judgment cannot possibly approve of them." And yet I realize
that in our country, even in the good old times, it had become a settled custom
to expect magnificent entertainments from the very best men in their year of
aedileship. So both Publius Crassus, who was not merely surnamed "The
Rich" but was rich in fact, gave splendid games in his aedileship; and a
little later Lucius Crassus (with Quintus Mucius, the most unpretentious man in
the world, as his colleague) gave most magnificent entertainments in his
aedileship. Then came Gaius Claudius, the son of Appius, and, after him, many
others — the Luculli, Hortensius, and Silanus. Publius Lentulus, however, in
the year of my consulship, eclipsed all that had gone before him, and Scaurus
emulated him. And my friend Pompey's exhibitions in his second consulship were
the most magnificent of all. And so you see what I think about all this sort of
thing.
{58} XVII.
Still we should avoid any
suspicion of penuriousness. Mamercus was a very wealthy man, and his refusal of
the aedileship was the cause of his defeat for the consulship. If, therefore,
such entertainment is demanded by the people, men of right judgment must at
least consent to furnish it, even if they do not like the idea. But in so doing
they should keep within their means, as I myself did. They should likewise
afford such entertainment, if gifts of money to the people are to be the means
of securing on some occasion some more important or more useful object. Thus
Orestes recently won great honour by his public dinners given in the streets,
on the pretext of their being a tithe-offering. Neither did anybody find fault
with Marcus Scius for supplying grain to the people at an as/a the peck at a
time when the market-price was prohibitive; for he thus succeeded in disarming
the bitter and deep-seated prejudice of the people against him at an outlay
neither very great nor discreditable to him in view of the fact tha he was
aedile at the time. But the highest honour recently fell to my friend Milo, who
bought a band of gladiators for the sake of the country, whose preservation
then depended upon my recall from exile, and with them put down the desperate
schemes, the reign of terror, of Publius Clodius. The justification for gifts
of money, therefore, is {59} either necessity or expediency. And, in making
them even in such cases, the rule of the golden mean is best. To be sure,
Lucius Philippus, the son of Quintus, a man of great ability and unusual
renown, used to make it his boast that without giving any entertainments he had
risen to all the positions looked upon as the highest within the gift of the
state. Cotta could say the same, and Curio. I, too, may make this boast my own
— to a certain extent;/a for in comparison with the eminence of the offices to
which I was unanimously elected at the earliest legal age — and this was not
the good fortune of any one of those just mentioned — the outlay in my
aedileship was very inconsiderable.
{60} Again, the expenditure
of money is better justified when it is made for walls, docks, harbours,
aqueducts, and all those works which are of service to the community. There is,
to be sure, more of present satisfaction in what is handed out, like cash down;
nevertheless public improvements win us greater gratitude with posterity. Out
of respect for Pompey's memory I am rather diffident about expressing any
criticism of theatres, colonnades, and new temples; and yet the greatest
philosophers do not approve of them — our Panaetius himself, for example, whom
I am following, not slavishly translating, in these books; so, too, Demetrius
of Phalerum, who denounces Pericles, the foremost man of Greece, for throwing
away so much money on the magnificent, far-famed Propylaea. But this whole
theme is discussed at length in my books on "The Republic." To
conclude, the whole system of public bounties in such extravagant amount is
intrinsically wrong; but it may under certain circumstances be necessary to
make them; even then they must be proportioned to our ability and regulated by the
golden mean.
{61} XVIII.
Now, as touching that
second division of gifts of money, those which are prompted by a spirit of
generosity, we ought to look at different cases differently. The case of the
man who is overwhelmed by misfortune is different from that of the one who is
seeking to better his condition, though {62} he suffers from no actual
distress. It will be the duty of charity to incline more to the unfortunate,
unless, perchance, they deserve their misfortune. But of course we ought by no
means to withhold our assistance altogether from those who wish for aid, not to
save them from utter ruin but to enable them to reach a higher degree of
fortune. But, in selecting worthy cases, we ought to use judgment and
discretion. For, as Ennius says so admirably,
Good deeds misplaced, methinks, are evil deeds.
{63} Furthermore, the
favour conferred upon a man who is good and grateful finds its reward, in such
a case, not only in his own good-will but in that of others. For, when
generosity is not indiscriminate giving, it wins most gratitude and people
praise it with more enthusiasm, because goodness of heart in a man of high
station becomes the common refuge of everybody. Pains must, therefore, be taken
to benefit as many as possible with such kindnesses that the memory of them
shall be handed down to children and to children's children, so that they too
may not be ungrateful. For all men detest ingratitude and look upon the sin of
it as a wrong committed against themselves also, because it discourages
generosity; and they regard the ingrate as the common foe of all the poor.
Ransoming prisoners from servitude and relieving the poor is a form of charity
that is a service to the state as well as to the individual. And we find in one
of Crassus's orations the full proof given that such beneficence used to be the
common practice of our order. This form of charity, then, I much prefer to the
lavish expenditure of money for public exhibitions. The former is suited to men
of worth and dignity, the latter to those shallow flatterers, if I may call
them so, who tickle with idle pleasure, so to speak, the fickle fancy of the
rabble.
{64} It will, moreover,
befit a gentleman to be at the same time liberal in giving and not
inconsiderate in exacting his dues, but in every business relation — in buying
or selling, in hiring or letting, in relations arising out of adjoining houses
and lands — to be fair, reasonable, often freely yielding much of his own
right, and keeping out of litigation as far as his interests will permit and perhaps
even a little farther. For it is not only generous occasionally to abate a
little of one's rightful claims, but it is sometimes even advantageous. We
should, however, have a care for our personal property, for it is discreditable
to let it run through our fingers; but we must guard it in such a way that
there shall be no suspicion of meanness or avarice. For the greatest privilege
of wealth is, beyond all peradventure, the opportunity it affords for doing
good, without sacrificing one's fortune. Hospitality also is a theme of
Theophrastus's praise, and rightly so. For, as it seems to me at least, it is
most proper that the homes of distinguished men should be open to distinguished
guests. And it is to the credit of our country also that men from abroad do not
fail to find hospitable entertainment of this kind in our city. It is,
moreover, a very great advantage, too, for those who wish to obtain a powerful
political influence by honourable means to be able through their social
relations with their guests to enjoy popularity and to exert influence abroad.
For an instance of extraordinary hospitality, Theophrastus writes that at
Athens Cimon was hospitable even to the Laciads, the people of his own deme;
for he instructed his bailiffs to that end and gave them orders that every
attention should be shown to any Laciad who should ever call at his country
home.
{65} XIX.
Again, the kindnesses shown
not by gifts of money but by personal service/a are bestowed sometimes upon the
community at large, sometimes upon individual citizens. To protect a man in his
legal rights [to assist him with counsel,] and to serve as many as possible
with that sort of knowledge tends greatly to increase one's influence and
popularity. Thus, among the many admirable ideas of our ancestors was the high
respect they always accorded to the study and interpretation of the excellent
body of our civil law. And down to the present unsettled times the foremost men
of the state have kept this profession exclusively in their own hands; but now
the prestige of legal learning has departed along with offices of honour and
positions of signity; ana this is the more deplorable, because it has come to
pass in the lifetime of a man/b who in knowledge of the law would easily have
surpassed all his predecessors, while in honour he is their peer. Service such
as this, then, finds many to appreciate it and is calculated to bind people
closely to us by our good services.
{66} Closely connected with
this profession, furthermore, is the gift of eloquence; it is at once more
popular and more distinguished. For what is better than eloquence to awaken the
admiration of one's hearers or the hopes of the distressed or the gratitude of
those whom it has protected? It was to eloquence, therefore, that our fathers assigned
the foremost rank among the civil professions. The door of opportunity for
generous patronage to others, then, is wide open to the orator whose heart is
in his work and who follows the custom of our forefathers in undertaking the
defence of many clients without reluctance and without compensation.
{67} My subject suggests
that at this point I express once more my regret at the decadence, not to say
the utter extinction, of eloquence; and I should do so, did I not fear that
people would think that I were complaining on my own account. We see,
nevertheless, what orators have lost their lives and how few of any promise are
left, how far fewer there are who have ability, and how many there are who have
nothing but presumption. But though not all — no, not even many — can be
learned in the law or, eloquent as pleaders, still anybody may be of service to
many by canvassing in their support for appointments, by witnessing to their
character before juries and magistrates, by looking out for the interests of one
and another, and by soliciting for them the aid of jurisconsults or of
advocates. Those who perform such services win the most gratitude and find a
most extensive sphere for their activities.
{68} Of course, those who
pursue such a course do not need to be warned ??or offend others. For
oftentimes they hurt those whom they ought not or those whom it is inexpedient
to offend. If they do it inadvertently, it is carelessness; if designedly,
inconsiderateness. A man must apologize also, to the best of his ability, if he
has involuntarily hurt anyone's feelings, and explain why what he has done was
unavoidable and why he could not have done otherwise; and he must by future
services and kind offices atone for the apparent offence.
{69} XX.
Now in rendering helpful
service to people, we usually consider either their character or their
circumstances. And so it is an easy remark, and one commonly made, to say that
in investing kindnesses we look not to people's outward circumstances, but to
their character. The phrase is admirable! But who is there, pray, that does not
in performing a service set the favour of a rich and influential man above the
cause of a poor, though most worthy, person? For, as a rule, our will is more
inclined to the one from whom we expect a prompter and speedier return. But we
should observe more carefully how the matter really stands: the poor man of
whom we spoke cannot return a favour in kind, of course, but if he is a good
man he can do it at least in thankfulness of heart. As someone has happily
said, "A man has not repaid money, if he still has it; if he has repaid
it, he has ceased to have it. But a man still has the sense of favour, if he
has returned the favour; and if he has the sense of the favour, he has repaid
it." On ?? conferred a favour by accepting one, however great and they
even suspect that a claim is thereby set up against them or that something is
expected in return. Nay more, it is bitter as death to them to have {70}
accepted a patron or to be called clients. Your man of slender means, on the
other hand, feels that whatever is done for him is done out of regard for
himself and not for his outward circumstances. Hence he strives to show himself
grateful not only to the one who has obliged him in the past but also to those from
whom he expects similar favours in the future — and he needs the help of many;
and his own service, if he happens to render any in return, he does not
exaggerate, but he actually depreciates it. This fact, furthermore, should not
be overlooked — that, if one defends a wealthy favourite of fortune, the favour
does not extend further than to the man himself or, possibly, to his children.
But, if one defends a man who is poor but honest and upright, all the lowly who
are not dishonest — and there is a large proportion of that sort among the
people — look upon such an advocate as a tower of defence raised up for {71}
them. I think, therefore, that kindness to the good is a better investment than
kindness to the favourites of fortune. We must, of course, put forth every
effort to oblige all sorts and conditions of men, if we can. But if it comes to
a conflict of duty on this point, we must, I should say, follow the advice of
Themistocles: when someone asked his advice whether he should give his daughter
in marriage to a man who was poor but honest or to one who was rich but less
esteemed, he said: "For my part, I prefer a man without money to money
without a man." But the moral sense of to-day is demoralized and depraved
by our worshi of wealth. Of what concern to any one of us is the size of
another man's fortune? It is, perhaps, an advantage to its possessor; but not
always even that. But suppose it is; he may, to be sure, have more money to
spend; but how is he any the better man for that? Still, if he is a good man,
as well as a rich one, let not his riches be a hindrance to his being aided, if
only they are not the motive to it; but in conferring favours our decision
should depend entirely upon a man's character, not on his wealth. The supreme
rule, then, in the matter of kindnesses to be rendered by personal service is
never to take up a case in opposition to the right nor in defence of the wrong.
For the foundation of enduring reputation and fame is justice, and without
justice there can be nothing worthy of praise.
{72} XXI.
Now, since we have finished
the discussion of that kind of helpful services which concern individuals, we
must next take up those which touch the whole body politic and the state. Of
these public services, some are of such a nature that they concern the whole
body of citizens; others, that they affect individuals only. And these latter
are the more productive of gratitude. If possible, we should by all means
attend to both kinds of service; but we must take care in protecting the interests
of individuals that what we do for them shall be beneficial, or at least not
prejudicial, to the state. Gaius Gracchus inaugurated largesses of grain on an
extensive scale; this had a tendency to exhaust the exchequer. Marcus Octavius
inaugurated a moderate dole; this was both practicable for the state and
necessary for the commons; it was, therefore, a blessing both to the citizens
and to the state.
{73} The man in an
administrative office, however, must make it his first care that everyone shall
have what belongs to him and that private citizens suffer no invasion of their
property rights by act of the state. It was a ruinous policy that Philippus
proposed when in his tribuneship he introduced his agrarian bill. However, when
his law was rejected, he took his defeat with good grace and displayed
extraordinary moderation. But in his public speeches on the measure he often
played the demagogue, and that time viciously, when he said that "there
were not in the state two thousand people who owned any property." That
speech deserves unqualified condemnation, for it favoured an equal distribution
of property; and what more ruinous policy than that could be conceived? For the
chief purpose in the establishment of constitutional state and municipal
governments was that individual property rights might be secured. For, although
it was by Nature's guidance that men were drawn together into cornmunities, it
was in the hope of safeguarding their possessions that they sought the
protection of cities.
{74} The administration
should also put forth every effort to prevent the levying of a property tax,
and to this end precautions should be taken long in advance. Such a tax was
often levied in the times of our forefathers on account of the depleted state
of their treasury and their incessant wars. But, if any state (I say
"any," for I would rather speak in general terms than forebode evils
to our own; however, I am not discussing our own state but states in general) —
if any state ever has to face a crisis requiring the imposition of such a
burden, every effort must be made to let all the people realize that they must
bow to the inevitable, if they wish to be saved. And it will also be the duty
of those who direct the affairs of the state to take measures that there shall
be an abundance of the necessities of life. It is needless to discuss the
ordinary ways and means; for the duty is self-evident; it is necessary only to
mention the matter.
{75} But the chief thing in
all public administration and public service is to avoid even the slightest
suspicion of self-seeking. "I would," says Gaius Pontius, the
Samnite, "that fortune had withheld my appearance until a time when the
Romans began to accept bribes, and that I had been born in those days! I should
then have suffered them to hold their supremacy no longer." Aye, but he
would have had many generations to wait; for this plague has only recently
infected our nation. And so I rejoice that Pontius lived then instead of now,
seeing that he was so mighty a man! It is not yet a hundred and ten years since
the enactment of Lucius Piso's bill to punish extortion; there had been no such
law before. But afterward came so many laws, each more stringent than the
other, so many men were accused and so many convicted, so horrible a war a was
stirred up on account of the fear of what our courts would do to still others,
so frightful was the pillaging and plundering of the allies when the laws and
courts were suppressed,/b that now we find ourselves strong not in our own
strength but in the weakness of others.
{76} XXII.
Panaetius praises Africanus
for his integrity in public life. Why should he not? But Africanus had other
and greater virtues. The boast of official integrity belongs not to that man
alone but also to his times. When Paulus got possession of all the wealth of
Macedon — and it was enormous — he brought into our treasury so much money/a
that the spoils of a single general did away with the need for a tax on
property in Rome for all time to come. But to his own house he brought nothing
save the glory of an immortal name. Africanus emulated his father's example and
was none the richer for his overthrow of Carthage. And what shall we say of
Lucius Mummius, his colleague in the censorship? Was he one penny the richer
when he had destroyed to its foundations the richest of cities? He preferred to
adorn Italy rather than his own house. And yet by the adornment of Italy his
own house was, as it seems to me, still more splendidly adorned.
{77} There is, then, to
bring the discussion back to the point from which it digressed, no vice more
offensive than avarice, especially in men who stand foremost and hold the helm
of state. For to exploit the state for selfish profit is not only immoral; it
is criminal, infamous. And so the oracle, which the Pythian Apollo uttered,
that "Sparta should not fall from any other cause than avarice,"
seems to be a prophecy not to the Lacedaemonians alone, but to all wealthy
nations as well. They who direct the affairs of state, then, can win the
good-will of the masses by no other means more easily than by self-restraint
and self-denial. {78} But they who pose as friends of the people, and who for
that reason either attempt to have agrarian laws passed, in order that the
occupants may be driven out of their homes, or propose that money loaned should
be remitted to the borrowers, are undermining the foundations of the
connnonwealth: first of all, they are destroying harmony, which cannot exist
when money is taken away from one party and bestowed upon another; and second,
they do away with equity, which is utterly subverted, if the rights of property
are not respected. For, as I said above, it is the peculiar function of the
state and the city to guarantee to every man the free and undisturbed control
of his own particular property.
{79} And yet, when it comes
to measures so ruinous to public welfare, they do not gain even that popularity
which they anticipate. For he who has been robbed of his property is their
enemy; he to whom it has been turned over actually pretends that he had no wish
to take it; and most of all, when his debts are cancelled, the debtor conceals
his joy, for fear that he may be thought to have been insolvent; whereas the
victim of the wrong both remembers it and shows his resentment openly. Thus even
though they to whom property has been wrongfully awarded be more in number than
they from whom it has been unjustly taken, they do not for that reason have
more influence; for in such matters influence is measured not by numbers but by
weight. And how is it fair that a man who never had any property should take
possession of lands that had been occupied for many years or even generations,
and that he who had them before should lose possession of them?
{80} XXIII.
Now, it was on account of
just this sort of wrong-doing that the Spartans banished their ephor Lysander,
and put their king Agis to death — an act without precedent in the history of
Sparta. From that time on — and for the same reason — disssensions so serious
ensued that tyrants arose, the nobles were sent into exile, and the state,
though most admirably constituted, crumbled to pieces. Nor did it fall alone,
but by the contagion of the ills that starting in Lacedaemon, spread widely and
more widely, it dragged the rest of Greece down to ruin. What shall we say of
our own Gracchi, the sons of that famous Tiberius Gracchus and grandsons of
Africanus? Was it not strife over the agrarian issue that caused their downfall
and death?
{81} Aratus of Sicyon, on
the other hand, is justly praised. When his city had been kept for fifty in the
power of its tyrants, he came over from Argos to Sicyon, secretly entered the
city and took it by surprise; he fell suddenly upon the tyrant Nicocles,
recalled from banishment six hundred exiles who had been the wealthiest men of
the city, and by his coming made his country free. But he found great
difficulty in the matter of property and its occupancy; for he considered it
most unjust, on the one hand, that those men should be left in want whom he had
restored and of whose property others had taken possession; and he thought it
hardly fair, on the other hand, that tenure of fifty years' standing should be
disturbed. For in the course of that long period many of those estates had
passed into innocent hands by right of inheritance, many by purchase, many by
dower. He therefore decided that it would be wrong either to take the property
away from the present incumbents or to let them keep it {82} without
compensation to its former possessors. So, when he had come to the conclusion
that he must have money to meet the situation, he announced that he meant to
make a trip to
Alexandria and gave orders
that matters should remain as they were until his return. And so he went in
haste to his friend Ptolemy, then upon the throne, the second king after the
founding of Alexandria. To him he explained that he wished to restore
constitutional liberty to his country and presented his case to him. And, being
a man of the highest standing, he easily secured from that wealthy king
assistance in the form of a large sum of money. And, when he had returned with
this to Sicyon, he called into counsel with him fifteen of the foremost men of
the city. With them he investigated the cases both of those who were holding
possession of other people's property and of those who had lost theirs. And he
managed by a valuation of the properties to persuade some that it was more
desirable to accept money and surrender their present holdings; others he
convinced that it was more to their interest to take a fair price in cash for
their lost estates than to try to recover possession of what had been their
own. As a result, harmony was preserved, and all parties went their way without
a word of complaint.
{83} A great statesman, and
worthy to have been born in our commonwealth! That is the right way to deal
with one's fellow-citizens, and not, as we have already witnessed on two
occasions, to plant the spear in the forum and knock down the property of
citizens under the auctioneer's hammer. But yon?? Greek, like a wise and
excellent man, thought that he must look out for the welfare of all. And this
is the highest statesmanship and the soundest wisdom on the part of a good
citizen, not to divide the interests of the citizens but to unite all on the
basis of impartial justice. "Let them live in their neighbour's house
rent-free."/a Why so? In order that, when I have bought, built, kept up,
and spent my money upon a place, you may without my consent enjoy what belongs
to me? What else is that but to rob one man of what belongs to him and to give
to
{84} another what does not
belong to him? And what is the meaning of an abolition of debts, except that
you buy a farm with my money; that you have the farm, and I have not my money?
XXIV.
We must, therefore, take
measures that there shall be no indebtedness of a nature to endanger the public
safety. It is a menace that can be averted in many ways; but should a serious
debt be incurred, we are not to allow the rich to lose their property, while
the debtors profit by what is their neighbour's. For there is nothing that
upholds a government more powerfully han its credit; and it can have no credit,
unless the payment of debts is enforced by law. Never were measures for the
repudiation of debts more strenuously agitated than in my consulship. Men of
every sort and rank attempted with arms and armies to force the project
through. But I opposed them with such energy that this plague was wholly
eradicated from the body politic. Indebtedness was never greater; debts were
never liquidated more easily or more fully; for the hope of defrauding the
creditor was cut off and payment was enforced by law. But the present victor,
though vanquished then, still carried out his old design, when it was no longer
of any personal advantage to him./b So great was his passion for wrongdoing
that the very doing of wrong was a joy to him for its own sake even when there
was no motive for it.
{85} Those, then, whose
office it is to look after the interests of the state will refrain from that
form of liberality which robs one man to enrich another. Above all, they will
use their best endeavours that everyone shall be protected in the possession of
his own property by the fair administration of the law and the courts, that the
poorer classes shall not be oppressed because of their helplessness, and that
envy shall not stand in the way of the rich, to prevent them from keeping or
recovering possession of what justly belongs to them; they must strive, too, by
whatever means they can, in peace or in war, to advance the state in power, in
territory, and in revenues. Such service calls for great men; it was commonly
rendered in the days of our ancestors; if men will perform duties such as
these, they will win popularity and glory for themselves and at the same time
render eminent service to the state.
{86} Now, in this list of
rules touching expediency, Antipater of Tyre, a Stoic philosopher who recently
died at Athens, claims that two points were overlooked by Panaetius — the care of
health and of property. I presume that the eminent philosopher overlooked these
two items because they present no difficulty. At all events they are expedient.
Although they are a matter of course, I will still say a few words on the
subject. Individual health is preserved by studying one's own constitution,
by observing what is good or bad for one, by constant self-control in supplying
physical wants and comforts (but only to the extent necessary to self-preservation),
by forgoing sensual pleasures, and finally, by the professional skill of those
to whose science these matters belong.
{87} As for property, it is
a duty to make money, but only by honourable means; it is a duty also to save
it and increase it by care and thrift. These principles Xenophon, a pupil of
Socrates, has set forth most happily in his book entitled
"Oeconomicus." When I was about your present age, I translated it
from the Greek into Latin. But this whole subject of acquiring money, investing
money (I wish I could include also spending money), is more profitably
discussed by certain worthy gentlemen on "Change" than could be done
by any philosophers of any school. For all that, we must take cognizance of
them for they come fitly under the head of expediency, and that is the subject
of the present book.
{88} XXV.
But it is often necessary
to weigh one expediency against another; — for this, as I stated, is a fourth
point overlooked by Panaetius. For not only are physical advantages regularly compared
with outward advantages [and outward, with physical], but physical advantages
are compared with one another, and outward with outward. Physical advantages
are compared with outward advantages in some such way as this: one may ask
whether it is more desirable to have health than wealth; [external advantages
with physical, thus: whether it is better to have wealth than extraordinary
bodily strength;] while the physical advantages may be weighed against one
another, so that good health is preferred to sensual pleasure, strength to
agility. Outward advantages also may be weighed against one another: glory, for
example, may be preferred to riches, an income derived from city property to
one derived from the {89} farm. To this class of comparisons belongs that
famous saying of old Cato's: when he was asked what was the most profitable
feature of an estate, he replied: "Raising cattle successfully." What
next to that? "Raising cattle with fair success." And next?
"Raising cattle with but slight success." And fourth? "Raising
crops." And when his questioner said, "How about money —
lending?" Cato replied: "How about murder?" From this as well as
from many other incidents we ought to realize that expediencies have often to
be weighed against one another and that it is proper for us to add this fourth
division in the discussion of moral duty. Let us now pass on to the remaining
problem.
{1} Cato, who was of about
the same years, Marcus, my son, as that Publius Scipio who first bore the
surname of Africanus, has given us the statement that Scipio used to say that
he was never less idle than when he had nothing to do and never less lonely
than when he was alone. An admirable sentiment, in truth, and becoming to a
great and wise man. It shows that even in his leisure hours his thoughts were
occupied with public business and that he used to commune with himself when
alone; and so not only was he never unoccupied, but he sometimes had no need
for company. The two conditions, then, that prompt others to idleness — leisure
and solitude — only spurred him on. I wish I could say the same of myself and
say it truly. But if by imitation I cannot attain to such excellence of character,
in aspiration, at all events, I approach it as nearly as I can; for as I am
kept by force of armed treason away from practical politics and from my
practice at the bar, I am now leading a life of leisure. For that reason I have
left the city and, wandering in the country from place to place, I am often
alone.
{2} But I should not
compare this leisure of mine with that of Africanus, nor this solitude with
his. For he, to find leisure from his splendid services to his country, used to
take a vacation now and then and to retreat from the assemblies and the throngs
of men into solitude, as, into a haven of rest. But my leisure is forced upon
me by want of public business, not prompted by any desire for repose. For now
that the senate has been abolished ana the courts have been closed, what is
there, in keeping with my self-respect, that I can do either in the senate {3}
chamber or in the forum? So, although I once lived amid throngs of people and
in the greatest publicity, I am now shunning the sight of the miscreants with
whom the world abounds and withdrawing from the public eye as far as I may, and
I am often alone. But I have learned from philosophers that among evils one
ought not only to choose the least, but also to extract even from these any
element of good that they may contain. For that reason, I am turning my leisure
to account — though it is not such repose as the man should be entitled to who
once brought the state repose from civil strife — and I am not letting this
solitude, which necessity and not my will imposes on me, find me idle.
{4} And yet, in my
judgment, Africanus earned the higher praise. For no literary monuments of his
genius have been published, we have no work produced in his leisure hours, no
product of his solitude. From this fact we may safely infer that, because of
the activity of his mind and the study of those problems to which he used to
direct his thought, he was never unoccupied, never lonely. But I have not
strength of mind enough by means of silent meditation to forget my solitude;
and so I have turned all my attention and endeavour to this kind of literary
work. I have, accordingly, written more in this short time since the downfall
of the republic than I did in the course of many years, while the republic
stood.
{5} II.
But, my dear Cicero, while
the whole field of philosophy is fertile and productive and no portion of it
barren and waste, still no part is richer or more fruitful than that which
deals with moral duties; for from these are derived the rules for leading a consistent
and moral life. And therefore, although you are, as I trust, diligently
studying and profiting by these precepts under the direction of our friend
Cratippus, the foremost philosopher of the present age, I still think it well
that your ears should be dinned with such precepts from every side and that if
it could be, they should hear nothing else.
{6} These precepts must be
laid to heart by all who look forward to a career of honour, and I am inclined
to think that no one needs them more than you. For you will have to fulfil the
eager anticipation that you will imitate my industry, the confident expectation
that you will emulate my course of political honours, and the hope that you
will, perhaps, rival my name and fame. You have, besides, incurred a heavy
responsibility on account of Athens and Cratippus: for, since you have come to
them for the purchase, as it were, of a store of liberal culture, it would be a
great discredit to you to return empty-handed, thereby disgracing the high
reputation of the city and of your master. Therefore, put forth the best mental
effort of which you are capable; work as hard as you can (if learning is work
rather than pleasure); do your very best to succeed; and do not, when I have
put all the necessary means at your disposal, allow it to be said that you have
failed to do your part. But enough of this. For I have written again and again
for your encouragement. Let us now return to the remaining section of our
subject as outlined. {7} Panaetius, then, has given us what is unquestionably
the most thorough discussion of moral duties that we have, and I have followed
him in the main — but with slight modifications. He classifies under three
general heads the ethical problems which people are accustomed to consider and
weigh: first, the question whether the matter in hand is morally right or
morally wrong; second, whether it is expedient or inexpedient; third, how a
decision ought to be reached, in case that which has the appearance of being
morally right clashes with that which seems to be expedient. He has treated the
first two heads at length in three books; but, while he has stated that he
meant to discuss the third head in its proper {8} turn, he has never fulfilled
his promise. And I wonder the more at this, because Posidonius, a pupil of his,
records that Panaetius was still alive thirty years after he published those
three books. And I am surprised that Posidonius has but briefly touched upon
this subject in certain memoirs of his, and especially, as he states that there
is no other topic in the whole range of philosophy so essentially important as
this. {9} Now, I cannot possibly accept the view of those who say that that
point was not overlooked but purposely omitted by Panaetius, and that it was
not one that ever needed discussion, because there never can be such a thing as
a conflict between expediency and moral rectitude. But with regard to this
assertion, the one point may admit of doubt — whether that question which is
third in but the other point is not open to debate — that it was included in
Panaetius's plan but left unwritten. For, if a writer has finished two
divisions of a threefold subject, the third must necessarily remain for him to
do. Besides, he promises at the close of the third book that he will discuss
this division also in its {10} proper turn. We have also in Posidonius a
competent witness to the fact. He writes in one of his letters that Publius
Rutilius Rufus, who also was a pupil of Panaetius's, used to say that "as
no painter had been found to complete that part of the Venus of Cos which
Apelles had left unfinished (for the beauty of her face made hopeless any
attempt adequately to represent the rest of the figure), so no one, because of
the surpassing excellence of what Panaetius did complete, would venture to
supply what he had left undone."
{11} III.
In regard to Panaetius's
real intentions, therefore, no doubt can be entertained. But whether he was or
was not justified in adding this third division to the inquiry about duty may,
perhaps, be a matter for debate. For whether moral goodness is the only good,
as the Stoics believe, or whether, as your Peripatetics think, moral goodness
is in so far the highest good that everything else gathered together into the
opposing scale would have scarcely the slightest weight, it is beyond question
that expediency can never conflict with moral rectitude. And so, we have heard,
Socrates used to pronounce a curse upon those who first drew a conceptual
distinction between things naturally inseparable. With this doctrine the Stoics
are in agreement in so far as they maintain that if anything is morally right,
it is expedient, and if anything is not morally right, it is not expedient.
{12} But if Panaetius were
the sort of man to say that virtue is worth cultivating only because it is
productive of advantage, as do certain philosophers who measure the
desirableness of things by the standard of pleasure or of absence of pain, he
might argue that expediency sometimes clashes with moral rectitude. But since
he is a man who judges that the morally right is the only good, and that those
things which come in conflict with it have only the appearance of expediency
and cannot make life any better by their presence nor any worse by their
absence, it follows that he ought not to have raised a question involving the
weighing of what seems expedient against {13} what is morally right.
Furthermore, when the Stoics speak of the supreme good as "living
conformably to Nature," they mean, as I take it, something like this: that
we are always to be in accord with virtue, and from all other things that may
be in harmony with Nature to choose only such as are not incompatible with
virtue. This being so, some people are of the opinion that it was not right to
introduce this counterbalancing of right and expediency and that no practical
instruction should have been given on this question at all. And yet moral
goodness, in the true and proper sense of the term, is the exclusive possession
of the wise and can never be separated from virtue; but those who have not
perfect wisdom cannot possibly have perfect moral goodness, but only a
semblance {14} of it. And indeed these duties under discussion in these books
the Stoics call "mean duties";/a they are a common possession and
have wide application; and many people attain to the knowledge of them through
natural goodness of heart and through advancement in learning. But that duty
which those same Stoics call "right" is perfect and absolute and
"satisfies all the numbers,"/a as that same school says, and is {15}
attainable by none except the wise man. On the other hand, when some act is
performed in which we see "mean" duties manifested, that is generally
regarded as fully perfect, for the reason that the common crowd does not, as a
rule, comprehend how far it falls short of real perfection; but, as far as
their comprehension does go, they think there is no deficiency. This same thing
ordinarily occurs in the estimation of poems, paintings, and a great many other
works of art: ordinary people enjoy and praise things that do not deserve
praise. The reason for this, I suppose, is that those productions have some
point of excellence which catches the fancy of the uneducated, because these
have not the ability to discover the points of weakness in any particular piece
of work before them. And so, when they are instructed by experts, they readily
abandon their former opinion.
IV.
The performance of the
duties, then, which I am discussing in these books, is called by the Stoics a
sort of second-grade moral goodness, not the peculiar property of their wise
men, but shared by them with {16} all mankind. Accordingly, such duties appeal
to all men who have a natural disposition to virtue. And when the two Decii or
the two Scipios are mentioned as "brave men" or Fabricius is called
"the just," it is not at all that the former are quoted as perfect
models of courage or the latter as a perfect model of justice, as if we had in
one of them the ideal "wise man." For no one of them was wise in the
sense in which we wish to have "wise" understood; neither were Marcus
Cato and Gaius Laelius wise, though they were so considered and were surnamed
"the wise." Not even the famous Seven were "wise." But
because of their constant observance of "mean" duties they bore a
certain semblance and likeness to wise men.
{17} For these reasons it
is unlawful either to weigh true morality against conflicting expediency, or
common morality, which is cultivated by those who wish to be considered good
men, against what is profitable; but we every-day people must observe and live
up to that moral right which comes within the range of our comprehension as
jealously as the truly wise men have to observe and live up to that which is
morally right in the technical and true sense of the word. For otherwise we
cannot maintain such progress as we have made in the direction of virtue. So
much for those who have won a reputation for being good men by their careful
observance of duty.
{18} Those, on the other
hand, who measure everything by a standard of profits and personal advantage
and refuse to have these outweighed by considerations of moral rectitude are
accustomed, in considering any qestion, to weigh the morally right against what
they think the expedient; good men are not. And so I believe that when
Panaetius stated that people were accustomed to hesitate to do such weighing,
he meant precisely what he said — merely that "such was their
custom," not that such was their duty. And he gave it no approval; for it
is most immoral to think more highly of the apparently, expdient than of the
morally right, or even to set these over against each other and to hesitate to
choose between them. What, then, is it that may sometimes give room for a doubt
and seem to call for consideration? It is, I believe, when a question arises as
to the character {19}of an action under consideration. For it often happens,
owing to exceptional circumstances, that what is accustomed under ordinary
circumstances to be considered morally wrong is found not to be morally wrong.
For the sake of illustration, let us assume some particular case that admits of
wider application — what more atrocious crime can there be than to kill a
fellow-man, and especially an intimate friend? But if anyone kills a tyrant —
be he never so intimate a friend — he has not laden his soul with guilt, has
he? The Roman People, at all events, are not of that opinion; for of all
glorious deeds they hold such an one to be the most noble. Has expediency,
then, prevailed over moral rectitude? Not at all; moral rectitude has gone hand
in hand with expediency. Some general rule, therefore, should be laid down to
enable us to decide without error, whenever what we call the expedient seems to
clash with what we feel to be morally right; and, if we follow that rule in comparing
courses of conduct, we shall never {20} swerve from the path of duty. That
rule, moreover, shall be in perfect harmony with the Stoics' system and
doctrines. It is their teachings that I am following in these books, and for
these problems, if conducted by those who consider whatever is morally right
also expedient and nothing expedient that is not at the same time morally
right, will be more illuminating than if conducted by those who think that
something not expedient may be morally right and that something not morally
right may be expedient. But our New Academy allows us wide liberty, so that it
is within my right to defend any theory that presents itself to me as most
probable. But to return to my rule.
{21} V.
Well then, for a man to
take something from his neighbour and to profit by his neighbour's loss is more
contrary to Nature than is death or poverty or pain or anything else that can
affect either our person or our property. For, in the first place, injustice is
fatal to social life and fellowship between man and man. For, if we are so
disposed that each, to gain some personal profit, will defraud or injure his
neighbour, then those bonds of human society, which are most in accord with
Nature's laws, must of {22} necessity be broken. Suppose, by way of comparison,
that each one of our bodily members should conceive this idea and imagine that
it could be strong and well if it should draw off to itself the health and
strength of its neighbouring member, the whole body would necessarily be enfeebled
and die; so, if each one of us should seize upon the property of his neighbours
and take from each whatever he could appropriate to his own use, the bonds of
human society must inevitably be annihilated. For, without any conflict with
Nature's laws, it is granted that everybody may prefer to secure for himself
rather than for his neighbour what is essential for the conduct of life; but
Nature's laws do forbid us to increase our means, wealth, and resources by
despoiling others.
{23} But this principle is
established not by Nature's laws alone (that is, by the common rules of
equity), but also by the statutes of particular communities, in accordance with
which in individual states the public interests are maintained. In all these it
is with one accord ordained that no man shall be allowed for the sake of his
own advantage to injure his neighbour. For it is to this that the laws have
regard; this is their intent, that the bonds of union between citizens should
not be impaired; and any attempt to destroy these bonds is repressed by the
penalty of death, exile, imprisonment, or fine. Again, this principle follows
much more effectually directly from the Reason which is in Nature, which is the
law of gods and men. If anyone will hearken to that voice (and all will hearken
to it who wish to live in accord with Nature's laws), he will never be guilty
of coveting anything that is his neighbour's or of appropriating to himself
what he has taken {24} from his neighbour. Then, too, loftiness and greatness
of spirit, and courtesy, justice, and generosity are much more in harmony with
Nature than are selfish pleasure, riches, and life itself; but it requires a
great and lofty spirit to despise these latter and count them as naught, when
one weighs them over against the common weal. [But for anyone to rob his
neighbour for his own profit is more contrary to Nature than death, pain, and
the like.] {25} In like manner it is more in accord with Nature to emulate the
great Hercules and undergo the greatest toil and trouble for the sake of aiding
or saving the world, if possible, than to live in seclusion, not only free from
all care, but revelling in pleasures and abounding in wealth, while excelling
others also in beauty and strength. Thus Hercules denied himself and underwent
toil and tribulation for the world, and, out of gratitude for his services,
popular belief has given him a place in the council of the gods. The better and
more noble, therefore, the character with which a man is endowed, the more does
he prefer the life of service to the life of pleasure. Whence it follows that
man, if he is obedient to Nature, cannot do harm to his fellow-man. {26}
Finally, if a man wrongs his neighbour to gain some advantage for himself he
must either imagine that he is not acting in defiance of Nature or he must
believe that death, poverty, pain, or even the loss of children, kinsmen, or
friends, is more to be shunned than an act of injustice against another. If he
thinks he is not violating the laws of Nature, when he wrongs his fellow-men,
how is one to argue with the individual who takes away from man all that makes
him man? But if he belleves that, while such a course should be avoided, the
other alternatives are much worse — namely, death, poverty, pain — he is
mistaken in thinking that any ills affecting either his person or his property
are more serious than those affecting his soul. VI. This, then, ought to be the
chief end of all men, to make the interest of each individual and of the whole
body politic identical. For, if the individual appropriates to selfish ends
what should be devoted to the common good, all human fellowship will be
destroyed. {27} And further, if Nature ordains that one man shall desire to
promote the interests of a fellow-man, whoever he may be, just because he is a
fellow-man, then it follows, in accordance with that same Nature, that there
are interests that all men have in common. And, if this is true, we are all
subject to one and the same law of Nature; and, if this also is true, we are
certainly forbidden by Nature's law to wrong our neighbour. Now the first
assumption is true; {28} therefore the conclusion is likewise true. For that is
an absurd position which is taken by some people, who say that they will not
rob a parent or a brother for their own gain, but that their relation to the
rest of their fellow-citizens is quite another thing. Such people contend in
essence that they are bound to their fellow-citizens by no mutual obligations,
social ties, or common interests. This attitude demolishes the whole structure
of civil society. Others again who say that regard should be had for the rights
of fellow-citizens, but not of foreigners, would destroy the universal
brotherhood of mankind; and, when this is annihilated, kindness, generosity,
goodness, and justice must utterly perish; and those who work all this
destruction must be considered as wickedly rebelling against the immortal gods.
For they uproot the fellowship which the gods have established between human
beings, and the closest bond of this fellowship is the conviction that it is
more repugnant to Nature for man to rob a fellow-man for his own gain than to
endure all possible loss, whether to his property or to his person . . . or
even to his very soul — so far as these losses are not concerned with justice;
a for this virtue is the sovereign mistress and queen of all the virtues.
{29} But, perhaps, someone
may say: "Well, then, suppose a wise man were starving to death, might he
not take the bread of some perfectly useless member of society?" [Not at
all; for my life is not more precious to me than that temper of soul which
would keep me from doing wrong to anybody for my own advantage.] "Or
again; supposing a righteous man were in a position to rob the cruel and
inhuman tyrant, Phalaris of clothing, might he not do it to keep himself from
freezing to death?"
{30} These cases are very
easy to decide. For, if merely, for one's own benefit one were to take
something away from a man, though he were a perfectly worthless fellow, it
would be an act of meanness and contrary to Nature's law. But suppose one would
be able, by remaining alive, to render signal service to the state and to human
society — if from that motive one should take something from another, it would
not be a matter for censure. But, if such is not the case, each one must bear
his own burden of distress rather than rob a neighbour of his rights. We are
not to say, therefore, that sickness or want or any evil of that sort is more
repugnant to Nature than to covet and to appropriate what is one's neighbour's;
but we do maintain that disregard of the common interests
{31} is repugnant to
Nature; for it is unjust. And therefore Nature's law itself, which protects and
conserves human interests, will surely determine that a man who is wise, good,
and brave, should in emergency have the necessaries of life transferred to him
from a person who is idle and worthless; for the good man's death would be a
heavy loss to the common weal; only let him beware that self-esteem and
self-love do not find in such a transfer of possessions a pretext for
wrong-doing. But, thus guided in his decision, the good man will always perform
his duty, promoting the general interests of human society of which I am so
fond of dwelling.
{32} As for the case of
Phalaris, a decision is quite simple: we have no ties of fellowship with a
tyrant, but rather the bitterest feud; and it is not opposed to Nature to rob,
if one can, a man whom it is morally right to kill; — nay, all that pestilent and
abominable race should be exterminated from human society. And this may be done
by proper measures; for, as certain members are amputated, if they show signs
themselves of being bloodless and virtually lifeless and thus jeopardize the
health of the other parts of the body, so those fierce and savage monsters in
human form should be cut off from what may be called the common body of
humanity. Of this sort are all those problems in which we have to determine
what moral duty is, as it varies with varying circumstances.
{33} VII.
It is subjects of this sort
that I believe Panaetius would have followed up, had not some accident or
business interfered with his design. For the elucidation of these very
questions there are in his former books rules in plenty, from which one can
learn what should be avoided because of its immorality and what does not have
to be avoided for the reason that it is not immoral at all. We are now putting
the capstone, as it were, upon our structure, which is unfinished, to be sure,
but still almost completed; and, as mathematicians make a practice of not
demonstrating every proposition, but require that certain axioms be assumed as
true, in order more easily to explain their meaning, so, my dear Cicero, I ask
you to assume with me, if you can, that nothing is worth the seeking for its
own sake except what is morally right. But if Cratippus/a does not permit this
assumption, you will still grant this at least — that what is morally right is
the object most worth the seeking for its own sake. Either alternative is
sufficient for my purposes; first the one and then the other seems to me the
more probable,, and, besides these, there is no other alternative that seems
probable at all./b
{34} In the first place, I
must undertake the defence of Panaetius on this point; for he has said, not
that the truly expedient could under certain circumstances clash with the
morally right (for he could not have said that conscientiously /c), but only
that what seemed expedient could do so. For he often bears witness to the fact
that nothing is really expedient that is not at the same time morally right,
and nothing morally right that is not at the same time expedient; and he says
that no greater curse has ever assailed human life than the doctrine of those who
have separated these two conceptions. And so he introduced an apparent, not a
real, conflict between them, not to the end that we should under certain
circumstances give the expedient preference over the moral, but that, in case
they ever should get in each other's way, we might decide between them without
uncertainty. This part, therefore, which was passed over by Panaetius, I will
carry to completion without any auxiliaries, but fighting my own battle, as the
saying is. For, of all that has been worked out on this line since the time of
Panaetius, nothing that has come into my hands is at all satisfactory to me.
{35} VIII.
Now when we meet with
expediency in some specious form or other, we cannot help being influenced by
it. But if upon closer inspection one sees that there is some immorality
connected with what presents the appearance of expediency, then one is not
necessarily to sacrifice expediency but to recognize that there can be no
expediency where there is immorality. But if there is nothing so repugnant to
Nature as immorality (for Nature demands right and harmony and consistency and
abbors their opposites), and if nothing is so thoroughly in accord with Nature
as expediency, then surely expediency and immorality cannot coexist in one and
the same object. Again: if we are born for moral rectitude and if that is
either the only thing worth seeking, as Zeno thought, or at least to be
esteemed as infinitely outweighing everything else, as Aristotle holds, then it
necessarily follows that the morally right is either the sole good or the
supreme good. Now, that which is good is certainly expedient; consequently,
that which is morally right is also expedient.
{36} Thus it is the error
of men who are not strictly upright to seize upon something that seems to be
expedient and straightway to dissociate that from the question of moral right.
To this error the assassin's dagger, the poisoned cup, the forged wills owe
their origin; this gives rise to theft, embezzlement of public funds,
exploitation and plundering of provincials and citizens; this engenders also
the lust for excessive wealth, for despotic power, and finally for making
oneself king even in the midst of a free people; and anything more atrocious or
repulsive than such a passion cannot be conceived. For with a false perspective
they see the material rewards but not the punishment — I do not mean the
penalty of the law, which they often escape, but the heaviest penalty of all,
their own demoralization. {37} Away, then, with questioners of this sort (for
their whole tribe is wicked and ungodly), who stop to consider whether to
pursue the course which they see is morally right or to stain their hands with
what they know is crime. For there is guilt in their very deliberation, even
though they never reach the performance of the deed itself. Those actions,
therefore, should not be considered at all, the mere consideration of which is
itself morally wrong. Furthermore, in any such consideration we must banish any
vain hope and thought that our action may be covered up and kept secret. For if
we have only made some real progress in the study of philosophy, we ought to be
quite convinced that, even though we may escape the eyes of gods and men, we
must still do nothing that savours of greed or of injustice, of lust or of
intemperance.
{38} IX.
By way of illustrating this
truth Plato introduces the familiar story of Gyges: Once upon a time the earth
opened in consequence of heavy rains; Gyges went down into the chasm and saw,
so the story goes, a horse of bronze; in its side was a door. On opening this
door he saw the body of a dead man of enormous size with a gold ring upon his
finger. He removed this and put it on his own hand and then repaired to an
assembly of the shepherds, for he was a shepherd of the king. As often as he
turned the bezel of the ring inwards toward the palm of his hand, he became
invisible to everyone, while he himself saw everything; but as often as he
turned it back to its proper position, he became visible again. And so, with
the advantage which the ring gave him, he debauched the queen, and with her
assistance he murdered his royal master and removed all those who he thought
stood in his way, without anyone's being able to detect him in his crimes.
Thus, by virtue of the ring, he shortly rose to be king of Lydia. Now, suppose
a wise man had just such a ring, he would not imagine that he was free to do
wrongly any more than if he did not have it; for good men aim to secure not
secrecy but the right.
{39} And yet on this point
certain philosophers, who are not at all vicious but who are not very
discerning, declare that the story related by Plato is fictitious and
imaginary. As if he affirmed that it was actually true or even possible! But
the force of the illustration of the ring is this: if nobody were to know or
even to suspect the truth, when you do anything to gain riches or power or
sovereignty or sensual gratification — if your act should be hidden for ever
from the knowledge of gods and men, would you do it? The condition, they say,
is impossible. Of course it is. But my question is, if that were possible which
they declare to be impossible, what, pray, would one do? They press their point
with right boorish obstinacy, they assert that it is impossible and insist upon
it; they refuse to see the meaning of my words, "if possible." For
when we ask what they would do, if they could escape detection, we are not
asking whether they can escape detection; but we put them as it were upon the
rack: should they answer that, if impunity were assured, they would do what was
most to their selfish interest, that would be a confession that they are
criminally minded; should they say that they would not do so they would be
granting that all things in and of themselves immoral should be avoided. But
let us now return to our theme.
{40} X.
Many cases oftentimes arise
to perplex our minds with a specious appearance of expediency: the question
raised in these cases is not whether moral rectitude is to be sacrificed to
some considerable advantage (for that would of course be wrong), but whether
the apparent advantage can be secured without moral wrong. When Brutus deposed
his colleague Collatinus from the consular office, his treatment of him might
have been thought unjust; for Collatinus had been his associate, and had helped
him with word and deed in driving out the royal family. But when the leading
men of the state had determined that all the kindred of Superbus and the very
name of the Tarquins and every reminder of the monarchy should be obliterated,
then the course that was expedient — namely, to serve the country's interests —
was so pre-eminently right, that it was even Collatinus's own duty to acquiesce
in its justice. And so expediency gained the day because of its moral
rightness; for without moral rectitude there could have been no possible
expediency. Not so in the case of the king/a who founded the {41} city: it was
the specious appearance of expediency that actuated him; and when he decided
that it was more expedient for him to reign alone than to share the throne with
another, he slew his brother./b He threw to the winds his brotherly affection
and his human feelings, to secure what seemed to him — but was not — expedient;
and yet in defence of his deed he offered the excuse about his wall — a specious
show of moral rectitude, neither reasonable nor adequate at all. He committed a
crime, therefore, with due respect to him let me say so, be he Quirinus or
Romulus./a {42} And yet we are not required to sacrifice our own interest and
surrender to others what we need for ourselves, but each one should consider
his own interests, as far as he may without injury to his neighbour's.
"When a man enters the foot-race," says Chrysippus with his usual
aptness, "it is his duty to put forth all his strength and strive with all
his might to win; but he ought never with his foot to trip, or with his hand to
foul a competitor. Thus in the stadium of life, it is not unfair for anyone to
seek to obtain what is needful for his own advantage, but he has no right to
wrest it from his neighbour." {43} It is in the case of friendships,
however, that men's conceptions of duty are most confused; for it is a breach
of duty either to fail to do for a friend what one rightly can do, or to do for
him what is not right. But for our guidance in all such cases we have a rule
that is short and easy to master: apparent advantages — political preferment,
riches, sensual pleasures, and the like — should never be preferred to the
obligations of friendship. But an upright man will, never for a friend's sake
do anything in violation of his country's interests or his oath or his sacred
honour, not even if he sits as judge in a friend's case; for he lays aside the
role of friend when he assumes that of judge. Only so far will he make
concessions to friendship, that he will prefer his friend's side to be the
juster one and that he will set the time for presenting his case, as far as the
laws will allow, to suit his friend's convenience
{44} But when he comes to
pronounce the verdict under oath, he should remember that he has God as his
witness — that is, as I understand it, his own conscience, than which God
himself has bestowed upon man nothing more divine. From this point of view it
is a fine custom that we have inherited from our forefathers (if we were only
true to it now), to appear to the juror with this formula — "to do what he
can consistently with his sacred honour." This form of appeal is in
keeping with what I said a moment ago would be morally right for a judge to
concede to friend. For supposing that we were bound to everything that our
friends desired, such relations would have to be accounted not friendships but
{45} conspiracies. But I am speaking here of ordinary friendships; for among
men who are ideally wise and perfect such situations cannot arise. They say
that Damon and Phintias, of the Pythagorean school, enjoyed such ideally
perfect friendship, that when the tyrant Dionysius had appointed a day for the
executing of one of them, and the one who had been condemned to death requested
a few days' respite for the purpose of putting his loved ones in the care of
friends, the other became surety for his appearance, with the understanding
that his friend did not return, he himself should be put to death. And when the
friend returned on the day appointed, the tyrant in admiration for their
faithfulness begged that they would enrol him as a third partner in their
friendship.
?? moral rectitude prevail;
and when in friendship requests are submitted that are not morally right, let
conscience and scrupulous regard for the right take precedence of the
obligations of friendship. In this way we shall arrive at a proper choice
between conflicting duties — the subject of this part of our investigation.
XI.
Through a specious
appearance of expediency wrong is very often committed in transactions between
state and state, as by our own country in the destruction of Corinth. A more
cruel wrong was perpetrated by the Athenians in decreeing that the Aeginetans,
whose strength lay in their navy, should have their thumbs cut off. This seemed
to be expedient; for Aegina was too grave a menace, as it was close to the
Piraeus. But no cruelty can be expedient; for cruelty is most abhorrent to
human {47} nature, whose lead we ought to follow. They, too, do wrong who would
debar foreigners from enjoying the advantages of their city and would exclude
them from its borders, as was done by Pennus in the time of our fathers, and in
recent times by Papius. It may not be right, of course, for one who is not a
citizen to exercise the rights and privileges of citizenship; and the law on
this point was secured by two of our wisest consuls, Crassus and Scaevola.
Still, to debar foreigners from enjoying the advantages of the city is
altogether contrary to the laws of humanity. There are splendid examples in
history where the apparent expediency of the state has been set at naught out
of regard for moral rectitude. Our own country has many instances to offer
throughout her history, and especially in the Second Punic War, when news came
of the disaster at Cannae, Rome displayed a loftier courage than ever she did
in success; never a trace of faint-heartedness, never a mention of making
terms. The influence of moral right is so potent, at it eclipses the specious
appearance of expediency.
{48} When the Athenians
could in no way stem the tide of the Persian invasion and determined to abandon
their city, bestow their wives and children in safety at Troezen, embark upon
their ships, and fight on the sea for the freedom of Greece, a man named
Cyrsilus proposed that they should stay at home and open the gates of their
city to Xerxes. They stoned him to death for it. And yet he was working for
what he thought was expediency; but it was not — not at all, for it clashed
with moral rectitude. {49} After the victorious close of that war with Persia,
Themistocles announced in the Assembly that he had a plan for the welfare of
the state, but that it was not politic to let it be generally known. He
requested the people to appoint someone with whom he might discuss it. They
appointed Aristides.
Themistocles confided to
him that the Spartan fleet, which had been hauled up on shore at Gytheum, could
be secretly set on fire; this done, the Spartan power would inevitably be
crushed. When Aristides heard the plan, he came into the Assembly amid the
eager expectation of all and reported that the plan proposed by Themistocles
was in the highest degree expedient, but anything but morally right. The result
was that the Athenians concluded that what was not morally right??
whole proposition without
even listening to it. Their attitude was better than ours; for we let pirates
go scot free, while we make our allies pay tribute.
XII.
Let it be set down as an
established principle, then, that what is morally wrong can never be expedient
— not even when one secures by means of it that which one thinks expedient; for
the mere act of thinking a course expedient, when it is morally {50} wrong, is
demoralizing. But, as I said above, cases often arise in which expediency may
seem to clash with moral rectitude; and so we should examine carefully and see
whether their conflict is inevitable or whether they may be reconciled. The
following are problems of this sort: suppose, for example, a time of dearth and
famine at Rhodes, with provisions at fabulous prices; and suppose that an
honest man has imported a large cargo of grain from Alexandria and that to his
certain knowledge also several other importers have set sail from Alexandria,
and that on the voyage he has sighted their vessels laden with grain and bound
for Rhodes; is he to report the fact to the Rhodians or is he to keep his own
counsel and sell his own stock at the highest market price? I am assuming the
case of a virtuous, upright man, and I am raising the question how a man would
think and reason who would not conceal the facts from the Rhodians if he
thought that it was immoral to do so, but who might be in doubt whether such
silence would really be immoral.
{51} In deciding cases of
this kind Diogenes of Babylonia, a great and highly esteemed Stoic,
consistently holds one view; his pupil Antipater, a most profound scholar,
holds another. According to Antipater all the facts should be disclosed, that
the buyer may not be uninformed of any detail that the seller knows; according
to Diogenes the seller should declare any defects in his wares, in so far as
such a course is prescribed by the common law of the land; but for the rest,
since he has goods to sell, he may try to sell them to the best possible
advantage, provided he is guilty of no misrepresentation.
"I have imported my
stock," Diogenes's merchant will say; "I have offered it for sale; I
sell at a price no higher than my competitors — perhaps even lower, when the
market is overstocked. Who is wronged?"
{52}"What say
you?" comes Antipater's argument on the other side; "it is your duty
to consider the interests of your fellow-men and to serve society; you were
brought into the world under these conditions and have these inborn principles
which you are in duty bound to obey and follow, that your interest shall be the
interest of the community and conversely that the interest of the community
shall be your interest as well; will you, in view of all these facts, conceal
from your fellow-men what relief in plenteous supplies is close at hand for
them?"
"It is one thing to
conceal," Diogenes will perhaps reply; not to reveal is quite a different
thing. At this present moment I am not concealing from you, even if I am not
revealing to you, the nature of gods or the highest good; and to know these
secrets would be of more advantage to you than to know that the price of wheat
was down. But I am under no obligation to tell you everything that it may be to
your interest to be told."
{53} "Yea,"
Antipater will say, "but you are, as you must admit, if you will only
bethink you of the bonds of fellowship forged by Nature and existing between
man and man."
"I do not forget
them," the other will reply: but do you mean to say that those bonds of
fellowship are such that there is no such thing as private property? If that is
the case, we should not sell anything at all, but freely give everything
away."
XIII.
In this whole discussion,
you see, no one says, "However wrong morally this or that may be, still,
since it is expedient, I will do it"; but the one side asserts that a
given act is expedient, without being morally wrong, while the other insists
that the act should not be done, because it is morally wrong. {54} Suppose
again that an honest man is offering a house for sale on account of certain
undesirable features of which he himself is aware but which nobody else knows;
suppose it is unsanitary, but has the reputation of being healthful; suppose it
is not generally known that vermin are to be found in all the bedrooms;
suppose, finally, that it is built of unsound timber and likely to collapse,
but that no one knows about it except the owner; if the vendor does not tell
the purchaser these facts but sells him the house for far more than he could
reasonably have expected to get for it, I ask whether his transaction is unjust
or dishonourable.
{55} "Yes," says
Antipater, "it is; for to allow a purchaser to be hasty in closing a deal
and through mistak ?? worse than refusing to set a man on his way: It is
deliberately leading a man astray."
"Can you say,"
answers Diogenes, "that he compelled you to purchase, when he did not even
advise it? He advertised for sale what he did not like; you bought what you did
like. If people are not considered guilty of swindling when they place upon
their placards FOR SALE: A FINE VILLA, WELL BUILT, even when it is neither good
nor properly built, still less guilty are they who say nothing in praise of
their house. For there the purchaser may exercise his own judgment, what fraud
can there be on the part of the vendor? But if, again, not all that is
expressly stated has to be made good, do you think a man is bound to make good
what has not been said? What, pray, would be more stupid than for a vendor to
recount all the faults in the article he is offering for sale? And what would
be so absurd as for an auctioneer to cry, at the owner's bidding, 'Here is an
unsanitary house for sale'?"
{56} In this way, then, in
certain doubtful cases moral rectitude is defended on the one side, while on
the other side the case of expediency is so presented as to make it appear not
only morally right to do what seems expedient, but even morally wrong not to do
it. This is the contradiction that seems often to arise between the expedient
and the morally right. But I must give my decision in these two cases; for I
did not propound them merely to raise the questions, {57}but to offer a
solution. I think, then, that it was the duty of that grain-dealer not to keep
back the facts from the Rhodians, and of this vendor of the house to deal in
the same way with his purchaser. The fact is that merely holding one's peace
about a thing does not constitute concealment, but concealment consists in
trying for your own profit to keep others from finding out something that you
know, when it is for their interest to know it. And who fails to discern what
manner of concealment that is and what sort of person would be guilty of it? At
all events he would be no candid or sincere or straightforward or upright or
honest man, but rather one who is shifty, sly, artful, shrewd, underhand,
cunning, one grown old in fraud and subtlety. Is it not inexpedient to subject
oneself to all these terms of reproach and many more besides?
{58} XIV.
If, then, they are to be
blamed who suppress the truth, what are we to think of those who actually state
what is false? Gaius Canius, a Roman knight, a man of considerable wit and
literary culture, once went to Syracuse for a vacation, as he himself used to
say, and not for business. He gave out that he had a mind to purchase a little
country seat, where he could invite his friends and enjoy himself,
uninterrupted by troublesome visitors. When this fact was spread abroad, one
Pythius, a banker of Syracuse, informed him that he had such an estate; that it
was not for sale, however, but Canius might make himself at home there, if he
pleased; and at the same time he invited him to the estate to dinner next day.
Canius accepted. Then Pythius, who, as might be expected of a moneylender,
could command favours of all classes, called the fishermen together and asked
them to do their fishing the next day out in front of his villa, and told them
what he wished them to do. Canius came to dinner at fleet of boats before their
eyes; each fisherman brought in in turn the catch that he had made; and the
fishes were deposited at the feet of Pythius.
{59} "Pray,
Pythius," said Canius thereupon, "what does this mean? — all these
fish? — all these boats?"
"No wonder,"
answered Pythius; "this is where all the fish in Syracuse are; here is
where the fresh water comes from; the fishermen cannot get along without this
estate."
Inflamed with desire for
it, Canius insisted upon Pythius's selling it to him. At first he demurred. To
make a long story short, Canius gained his point. The man was rich, and, in his
desire to own the country seat, he paid for it all that Pythius asked; and he
bought the entire equipment, too. Pythius entered the amount upon his ledger
and completed the transfer. The next day Canius invited his friends; he came
early himself. Not so much as a thole — pin was in sight. He asked his
next-door neighbour whether it was a fishermen's holiday, for not a sign of
them did he see.
"Not so far as I
know," said he; "but none are in the habit of fishing here. And so I
could not make out what was the matter yesterday."
{60} Canius was furious;
but what could he do? For not yet had my colleague and friend, Gaius Aquilius,
introduced the establshed form to apply to criminal fraud. When asked what he
meant by "criminal fraud," as specified in these forms, he could
reply: "Pretending one thing and practising another" — a very
felicitous definition, as one might expect from an expert in making them.
Pythius, therefore, and all others who do one thing while they pretend another
are faithless, dishonest, and unprincipled scoundrels. No act of theirs can be
expedient, when what they do is tainted with so many vices.
{61} XV.
But if Aquilius's
definition is correct, pretence and concealment should be done away with in all
departments of our daily life. Then an honest man will not be guilty of either
pretence or concealment in order to buy or to sell to better advantage.
Besides, your "criminal fraud" had previously been prohibited by the
statutes: the penalty in the matter of trusteeships, for example, is fixed by
the Twelve Tables; for the defrauding of minors, by the Praetorian law. The
same prohibition is effective, without statutory enactment, in equity cases, in
which it is added that the decision shall be "as good_faith
requires."/a In all other cases in equity, moreover, the following phrases
are most noteworthy: in a case calling for arbitration in the matter of a
wife's dowry: what is "the fairer is the better"; in a suit for the
restoration of a trust: "honest dealing, as between honest parties."
Pray, then, can there be any element of fraud in what is adjusted for the
"better and fairer"? Or can anything fraudulent or unprincipled be
done, when "honest dealing between honest parties" is stipulated?
??{62} But "criminal fraud," as Aquilius says, consists in false
pretence. We must, therefore, keep misrepresentation entirely out of business
transactions: the seller will not engage a bogus bidder to run prices up nor
the buyer one to bid low against himself to keep them down; and each, if they
come to naming a price, will state once for all what he will give or take. Why,
when Quintus Scaevola, the son of Publius Scaevola, asked that the price of a
farm that he desired to purchase be definitely named and the vendor named it,
he replied that he considered it worth more, and paid him 100,000 sesterces
over and above what he asked. No one could say that this was not the act of an
honest man; but people do say that it was not the act of a worldly-wise man,
any more than if he had sold for a smaller amount than he could have commanded.
Here, then, is that mischievous idea — the world accounting some men upright,
others wise; and it is this fact that gives Ennius occasion to say:
In vain is the wise man wise, who cannot benefit
himself.
And Ennius is quite right,
if only he and I were agreed upon the meaning of "benefit."
{63} Now I observe that
Hecaton of Rhodes, a pupil of Panaetius, says in his books on "Moral
Duty" dedicated to Quintus Tubero that "it is a wise man's duty to
take care of his private interests, at the same time doing nothing contrary to
the civil customs, laws, and institutions. But that depends on our purpose in
seeking prosperity; for we do not aim to be rich for ourselves alone but for
our children, relatives, friends, and, above all, for our country. For the
private fortunes of individuals are the wealth of the state." Hecaton
could not for a moment approve of Scaevola's act, which I cited a moment ago;
for he openly avows that he will abstain from doing for his own profit only
what the law expressly forbids. Such a man de ??{64}??{65} not enter, or, if he
only is a good man who helps all he can, and harms no one, it will certainly be
no easy matter for us to find the good man as thus defined. To conclude, then,
it is never expedient to do wrong, because wrong is always immoral; and it is
always expedient to be good, because goodness is always moral.
XVI.
In the laws pertaining to
the sale of real property it is stipulated in our civil code that when a
transfer of any real estate is made, all its defects shall be declared as far
as they are known to the vendor. According to the laws of the Twelve Tables it
used to be sufficient that such faults as had been expressly declared should be
made good and that for any flaws which the vendor expressly denied, when
questioned, he should be assessed double damages. A like penalty for failure to
make such declaration also has now been secured by our jurisconsults: they have
decided that any defect in a piece of real estate, if known to the vendor but
not expressly
{66} stated, must be made
good by him. For example, the augurs were proposing to take observations from
the citadel and they ordered Tiberius Claudius Centumalus, who owned a house
upon the Caelian Hill, to pull down such parts of the building as obstructed
the augurs' view by reason of their height. Claudius at once advertised his
block for sale, and Publius Calpurnius Lanarius bought it. The same notice was
served also upon him. And so, when Calpurnius had pulled down those parts of
the building and discovered that Claudius had advertised it for sale only after
the augurs had ordered them to be pulled down, he summoned the former owner
before a court of equity to decide "what indemnity the owner was under
obligation 'in good faith' to pay and deliver to him." The verdict was
pronounced by Marcus Cato, the father of our Cato (for as other men receive a
distinguishing name from their fathers, so he who bestowed upon the world so
bright a luminary must have his distinguishing name from his son); he, as I was
saying, was presiding judge and pronounced the verdict that "since the
augurs' mandate was known to the vendor at the time of making the transfer and
since he had not made it known, he was bound to make good the purchaser's
loss."
{67} With this verdict he
established the principle that it was essential to good faith that any defect
known to the vendor must be made known to the purchaser. If his decision was
right, our grain-dealer and the vendor of the unsanitary house did not do right
to suppress the facts in those cases. But the civil code cannot be made to
include all cases where facts are thus suppressed; but those cases which it
does include are summarily dealt with. Marcus Marius Gratidianus, a kinsman of
ours, sold back to Gaius Sergius Orata the house which he himself had bought a
few years before from that same Orata. It was subject to an encumbrance, but
Marius had said nothing about this fact in stating the terms of sale. The case was
carried to the courts. Crassus was counsel for Orata; Antonius was retained by
Gratidianus. Crassus pleaded the letter of the law that "the vendor was
bound to make good the defect, for he had not declared it, although he was
aware of it "; Antonius laid stress upon the equity of the case, leading
that, "inasmuch as the defect in question had not been unknown to Sergius
(for it was the same house that he had sold to Marius), no declaration of it
was needed, and in purchasing it back he had not been imposed upon, for he knew
to what legal liability his purchase was subject. {68} What is the purpose of
these illustrations? To let you see that our forefathers did not countenance
sharp practice.
XVII.
Now the law disposes of
sharp practices in one way, philosophers in another: the law deals with them as
far as it can lay its strong arm upon them; philosophers, as far as they can be
apprehended by reason and conscience. Now reason demands that nothing be done
with unfairness, with false pretence, or with misrepresentation. Is it not
deception, then, to set snares, 'even if one does not mean to start the game or
to drive it into them? Why, wild creatures often fall into snares undriven and
unpursued. Could one in the same way advertise a house for sale, post up a
notice "To be sold," like a snare, and have somebody run into it
unsuspecting?
{69} Owing to the low ebb
of public sentiment, such a method of procedure, I find, is neither by custom
accounted morally wrong nor forbidden either by statute or by civil law;
nevertheless it is forbidden by the moral law. For there is a bond of
fellowship — although I have often made this statement, I must still repeat it
again and again — which has the very widest application, uniting all men
together and each to each. This bond of union is closer between those who
belong to the same nation, and more intimate still between those who are
citizens of the same city-state. It is for this reason that our forefathers
chose to understand one thing by the universal law and another by the civil
law. The civil law is not necessarily also the universal law; but the universal
law ought to be also the civil law. But we possess no substantial, life-like
image of true Law and genuine Justice; a mere outline sketch is all that we
enjoy. I only wish that we were true even to this; for, even as it is, it is
drawn from the excellent models which Nature and Truth afford.
{70} For how weighty are
the words: "That I be not deceived and defrauded through you and my
confidence in you"! How precious are these "As between honest people
there ought to be honest dealing, and no deception "! But who are
"honest people," and what is "honest dealing" — these are
serious questions. It was Quintus Scaevola, the pontifex maximus, who used to
attach the greatest importance to all questions of arbitration to which the
formula was appended " as good faith requires "; and he held that the
expression "good faith" had a very extensive application, for it was
employed in trusteeships and partnerships, in trusts and commissions, in buying
and selling, in hiring and letting — in a word, in all the transactions on
which the social relations of daily life depend; in these he said, it required
a judge of great ability to decide the extent of each individual's obligation
to the other, especially when the counter-claims were admissible in most cases.
{71} Away, then, with sharp
practice and trickery, which desires, of course, to pass for wisdom, but is far
from it and totally unlike it. For the function of wisdom is to discriminate
between good and evil; whereas, inasmuch as all things morally wrong are evil,
trickery prefers the evil to the good.
It is not only in the case
of real estate transfers that the civil law, based upon a natural feeling for
the right, punishes trickery and deception, but also in the sale of slaves
every form of deception on the vendor's part is disallowed. For by the aediles'
ruling the vendor is answerable for any deficiency in the slave he sells, for
he is supposed to know if his slave is sound, or if he is a runaway, or a
thief. The case of those who have just come into the possession of slaves by
inheritance is different. {72} From this we come to realize that since Nature
is the source of right, it is not in accord with Nature that anyone should take
advantage of his neighbour's ignorance. And no greater curse in life can be
found than knavery that wears the mask of wisdom. Thence come those countless
cases in which the expedient seems to conflict with the right. For how few will
be found who can refrain from wrong-doing, if assured of the power to keep it
an absolute secret and to run no risk of punishment!
{73} XVIII.
Let us put our principle to
the test, if you please, and see if it holds good in those instances in which,
perhaps, the world in general finds no wrong; for in this connection we do not
need to discuss cut-throats, poisoners, forgers of wills, thieves, and
embezzlers of public moneys, who should be repressed not by lectures and
discussions of philosophers, but by chains and prison walls; but let us study
here the conduct of those who have the reputation of being honest men. Certain
individuals brought from Greece to Rome a forged will, purporting to be that of
the wealthy Lucius Minucius Basilus. The more easily to procure validity for it,
they made joint — heirs with themselves two of the most influential men of the
day, Marcus Crassus and Quintus Hortensius. Although these men suspected that
the will was a forgery, still, as they were conscious of no personal guilt in
the matter, they did not spurn the miserable boon procured through the crime of
others. What shall we say, then? Is this excuse competent to acquit them of
guilt? I cannot think so, although I loved the one while he lived, and do not
hate the other now {74} that he is dead. Be that as it may, Basilus had in fact
desired that his nephew Marcus Satrius should bear his name and inherit his
property, (I refer to the Satrius who is the present patron of Picenum and the
Sabine country — and oh, what a shameful stigma it is upon the times!/a) And
therefore it was not right that two of the leading citizens of Rome should take
the estate and Satrius succeed to nothing except his uncle's name. For if he
does wrong who does not ward off and repel injury when he can — as I explained
in the course of the First Book — what is to be thought of the man who not only
does not try to prevent wrong, but actually aids and abets it? For my part, I
do not believe that even genuine legacies are moral, if they are sought after
by designing flatteries and by attentions hypocritical rather than sincere. And
yet in such cases there are times when one course is likely to appear expedient
and another ??{75} morally right. The appearance is deceptive; for our standard
is the same for expediency and for moral rectitude. And the man who does not
accept the truth of this will be capable of any sort of dishonesty, any sort of
crime. For if he reasons, "That is, to be sure, the right course, but this
course brings advantage," he will not hesitate in his mistaken judgment to
divorce two conceptions that Nature has made one; and that spirit opens the
door to all sorts of dishonesty, wrong-doing, and crime.
XIX.
Suppose, then, that a good
man had such power that at a snap of his fingers his name could steal into rich
men's wills, he would not avail himself of that power — no, not even though he
could be perfectly sure that no one would ever suspect it. Suppose, on the
other hand, that one were to offer a Marcus Crassus the power, by the mere
snapping, of his fingers, to get himself named as heir, when he was not really
an heir, he would, I warrant you, dance in the forum. But the righteous man,
the one whom we feel to be a good man, would never rob anyone of anything to
enrich himself. If anybody is astonished at this doctrine, let him confess {76}
that he does not know what a good man is. If, on the ether hand, anyone should
desire to unfold the idea of a good man which lies wrapped up in his own mind,[14] he would then at once make
it clear to himself that a good man is one who helps all whom he can and harms
nobody, unless provoked by wrong. What shall we say, then? Would he not be
doing harm who by a kind of magic spell should succeed in displacing the real
heirs to an estate and pushing himself into their place? "Well,"
someone may say, "is he not to do what is expedient, what is advantageous
to himself?" Nay, verily; he should rather be brought to realize that
nothing that is unjust is either advantageous or expedient; if he does not
learn this lesson, it will never be possible for him to be a "good
man."
{77} When I was a boy, I
used to hear my father tell that Gaius Fimbria, an ex-consul, was judge in a
case of Marcus Lutatius Pinthia, a Roman knight of irreproachable character. On
that occasion Pinthia had laid a wager to be forfeited "if he did not
prove in court that he was a good man." Fimbria declared that he would
never render a decision in such a case, for fear that he might either rob a
reputable man of his good name, if he decided against him, or be thought to
have pronounced someone a good man, when such a character is, as he said,
established by the performance of countless duties and the possession of
praiseworthy qualities without number. To this type of good man, then, known
not only to a Socrates but even to a Fimbria, nothing can possibly seem
expedient that is not morally right. Such a man, therefore, will never venture
to think — to say nothing of doing — anything that he would not dare openly to
proclaim. Is it not a shame that philosophers should be in doubt about moral
questions on which even peasants have no doubts at all? For it is with peasants
that the proverb, already trite with age, originated: when they praise a man's
honour and honesty, they say, "he is a man with whom you can safely play
at odd and even/a in the dark." What is the point of the proverb but this
— that what is not proper brings no advantage, even if you can gain your end
without anyone's being able to convict you of wrong? {78} Do you not see that
in the light of this proverb no excuse is availilble either for the Gyges of
the story or for the man who I assumed a moment ago could with a snap of his
fingers sweep together everybody's inheritance at once? For as the morally
wrong cannot by any possibility be made morally right, however successfully it
may be covered up, so what is not morally right cannot be made expedient, for
Nature refuses and resists.
{79} XX.
"But stay,"
someone will object, "when the prize is very great, there is excuse for
doing wrong." Gaius Marius had been left in obscurity for more than six
whole years after his praetorship and had scarcely the remotest hope of gaining
the consulship. It looked as if he would never even be a candidate for that
office. He was now a lieutenant under Quintus Metellus, who sent him on a
furlough to Rome. There before the Roman People he accused his own general, an
eminent man and one of our first citizens, of purposely protracting the war and
declared that if they would make him consul, he would within a short time
deliver Jugurtha alive or dead into the hands of the Roman People. And so he
was elected consul, it is true, but he was a traitor to his own good faith and
to justice; for by a false charge he subjected to popular disfavour an exemplary
and highly respected citizen, and that too, although he was his lieutenant and
under leave of absence from him.
{80} Even our kinsman
Gratidianus failed on one occasion to perform what would be a good man's duty:
in his praetorship the tribunes of the people summoned the college of praetors
to council, in order to adopt by joint resolution a standard of value for our
currency; for at that time the value of money was so fluctuating that no one
could tell how much he was worth. In joint session they drafted an ordinance,
defining the penalty and the method of procedure in cases of violation of the
ordinance, and agreed that they should all appear together upon the rostra in
the afternoon to publish it. And while all the rest withdrew, some in one direction,
some in another, Marius (Gratidianus) went straight from the council-chamber to
the rostra and published individually what had been drawn up by all together.
And that coup, if you care to know, brought him vast honour; in every street
statues of him were erected; before these incense and candles burned. In a
word, no one ever enjoyed greater popularity with the masses.
{81} It is such cases as
these that sometimes perplex us in our consideration, when the point in which
justice is violated does not seem so very significant, but the consequences of
such slight transgression seem exceedingly important. For example, it was not
so very wrong morally, in the eyes of Marius,/a to over-reach his colleagues
and the tribunes in turning to himself alone all the credit with the people;
but to secure by that means his election to the consulship, which was then the
goal of his ambition,/b seemed very greatly to his interest. But for all cases
we have one rule, with which I desire you to be perfectly familiar: that which
seems expedient must not be morally wrong; or, if it is morally wrong, it must
not seem expedient. What follows? Can we account either the great Marius or our
Marius Gratidianus a good man? Work out your own ideas and sift your thoughts
so as to see what conception and idea of a good man they contain. Pray, tell
me, does it coincide with the character of your good man to lie for his own
proflt, to slander, to overreach, to deceive? Nay, verily; anything but that!
{82} Is there, then, any object of such value or any advantage so worth the
winning that, to gain it, one should sacrifice the name of a "good
man" and the lustre of his reputation? What is there that your so-called
expediency can bring to you that will compensate for what it can take away, if
it steals from you the name of a "good man" and causes you to lose
your sense of honour and justice? For what difference does it make whether a
man is actually transformed into a beast or whether, keeping the outward
appearance of a man, he has the savage nature of a beast within?
XXI.
Again, when people
disregard everything that is morally right and true, if only they may secure
power thereby, are they not pursuing the same course as he a who wished to have
as a father-in-law the man by whose effrontery he might gain power for himself?
He thought it advantageous to secure supreme power while the odium of it fell
upon another; and he failed to see how unjust to his country this was, and how
wrong morally. But the father-in-law himself used to have continually upon his
lips the Greek verses from the Phoenissae, which I will reproduce as well as I
can — awkwardly, it may be, but still so that the meaning can be understood:
If wrong may e'er be right,
for a throne's sake
Were wrong most right: — be God in all else feared!
Were wrong most right: — be God in all else feared!
Our tyrant deserved his
death for having made an exception of the one thing that was the blackest {83}
crime of all. Why do we gather instances of petty crime — legacies criminally
obtained and fraudulent buying and selling? Behold, here you have a man who was
ambitious to be king of the Roman People and master of the whole world; and he
achieved it! The man who maintains that such an ambition is morally right is a
madman; for he justifies the destruction of law and liberty and thinks their hideous
and detestable suppression glorious. But if anyone agrees that it is not
morally right to be kind in a state that once was free and that ought to be
free now, and yet imagines that it is advantageous for him who can reach that
position, with what remonstrance or rather with what appeal should I try to
tear him away from so strange a delusion? For, oh ye immortal gods! can the
most horrible and hideous of all murders — that of fatherland — bring advantage
to anybody, even though he who has committed such a crime receives from his
enslaved fellow-citizens the title of "Father of his Country"?
Expediency, therefore, must be measured by the standard of moral rectitude, and
in such a way, too, that these two words shall seem in sound only to be
different but in real meaning to be one and the same.
{84} What greater advantage
one could have, according to the standard of popular opinion, than to be a
king, I do not know; when, however, I begin to bring the question back to the
standard of truth, then I find nothing more disadvantageous for one who has
risen to that height by injustice. For can occasions for worry anxiety, fear by
day and by night, and a life all beset with plots and perils be of advantage to
anybody?
Thrones have many foes and friends untrue, but
few devoted friends,
says Accius. But of what
sort of throne was he speaking? Why, one that was held by right, handed down
from Tantalus and Pelops. Aye, but how many more foes, think you, had that king
who with the Roman People's army brought the Roman People themselves into
subjection and compelled a state that not only had been free but had been
mistress of the {85} world to be his slave? What stains do you think he had
upon his conscience, what scars upon his heart? But whose life can be advantageous
to himself, if that life is his on the condition that the man who takes it
shall be held in undying gratitude and glory? But if these things which seem so
very advantageous are not advantageous because they are full of shame and moral
wrong, we ought to be quite convinced that nothing can be expedient that is not
morally right.
{86} XXII.
And yet this very question
has been decided on many occasions before and since; but in the war with
Pyrrhus the decision rendered by Gaius Fabricius, in his second consulship, and
by our senate was particularly striking. Without provocation King Pyrrhus had
declared war upon the Roman People; the struggle was against a generous and
poweful prince, and the supremacy of power was the prize; a deserter came over
from him to the camp of Fabricius and promised, if Fabricius would assure him
of a reward, to return to the camp of Pyrrhus as secretly as he had come,
administer poison to the king, and bring about his death. Fabricius saw to it
that this fellow was taken back to Pyrrhus; and his action was commended by the
senate. And yet, if the mere show of expediency and the popular conception of
it are all we want, this one deserter would have put an end to that wasting war
and to a formidable foe of our supremacy; but it would have been a lasting
shame and disgrace to us to have overcome not by valour but by crime the man
with whom we had a contest for glory.
{87} Which course, then,
was more expedient for Fabricius, who was to our city what Aristides was to
Athens, or for our senate, who never divorced expediency from honour — to
contend against the enemy with the sword or with poison? If supremacy is to be
sought for the sake of glory, crime should be excluded, for there can be no
glory in crime; but if it is power for its own sake that is sought, whatever
the price, it cannot be expedient if it is linked with shame. That well-known
measure, therefore, introduced by Philippus, the son of Quintus, was not
expedient. With the authority of the senate, Lucius Sulla had exempted from
taxation certain states upon receipt of a lump sum of money from them.
Philippus proposed that they should again be reduced to the condition of
tributary states, without repayment on our part of the money that they had paid
for their exemption. And the senate accepted his proposal. Shame upon our
government! The pirates' sense of {88} can be expedient? Furthermore, can
hatred and shame be expedient for any government? For government ought to be
founded upon fair fame and the loyalty of allies. On this point I often
disagreed even with my friend Cato; it seemed to me that he was too rigorous in
his watchful care over the claims of the treasury and the revenues; he refused
everything that the farmers of the revenue asked for and much that the allies
desired; whereas, as I insisted, it was our duty to be generous to the allies
and to treat the publicans as we were accustomed individually to treat our
tenants — and all the more, because harmony between the orders was essential to
the welfare if the republic./a Curio, too, was wrong, when he pleaded that the
demands of the people beyond the Po were just, but never failed to add,
"Let expediency prevail." He ought rather to have proved that the
claims were not just, because they were not expedient for the republic, than to
have admitted that they were just, when, as he maintained, they were not
expedient.
{89} XXIII.
The sixth book of Hecaton's
"Moral Duties" is full of questions like the following: "Is it
consistent with a good man's duty to let his slaves go hungry when provisions
are at famine price?"
Hecaton gives the argument
on both sides of the question; but still in the end it is by the standard of
expediency, as he conceives it, rather than by one of human feeling, that he
decides the question of duty.
Then he raises this
question: supposing a man had to throw part of his cargo overboard in a storm,
should he prefer to sacrifice a high-priced horse or a cheap and worthless
slave? In this case regard for his property interest inclines him one way,
human feeling the other.
"Suppose that a
foolish man has seized hold of a plank from a sinking ship, shall a wise man
wrest it away from him if he can?" "No," says Hecaton; "for
that would be unjust." "But how about the owner of the ship? Shall he
take the plank away because it belongs to him?"
"Not at all; no more
than he would be willing when far out at sea to throw a passenger overboard on
the ground that the ship was his. For until they reach the place for which the
ship is chartered, she belongs to the passengers, not to the owner." {90}
"Again; suppose there were two to be saved from the sinking ship — both of
them wise men — and only one small plank, should both seize it to save
themselves? Or should one give give place to the other?"
"Why, of course, one
should give place to the other, but that other must be the one whose life is
more valuable either for his own sake or for that of his country."
"But what if these
considerations are of equal weight in both?"
"Then there will be no
contest, but one will give place to the other, as if the point were decided by
lot or at a game of odd and even."
"Again, suppose a
father were robbing temples or making underground passages to the treasury,
should a son inform the officers of it?"
"Nay; that were a
crime; rather should he defend his father, in case he were indicted."
"Aye, verily; but it
is to our country's interest to have citizens who are loyal to their
parents."
"But once more — if
the father attempts to make himself king, or to betray his country, shall the
son hold his peace?" "Nay, verily; he will plead with his father not
to do so. If that accomplishes nothing, he will take him to task; he will even
threaten; and in the end, if things point to the destruction of the state, he will
sacrifice his father to the safety of his country." {91} Again he raises
the question: "If a wise man should inadvertently accept counterfeit money
for good, will he offer it as genuine in payment of a debt after he discovers
his mistake?" Diogenes says, "Yes," Antipater, "No,"
and I agree with him. If a man knowingly offers for sale wine that is spoiling,
ought he to tell his customers? Diogenes thinks that it is not required;
Antipater holds that an honest man would do so. These are like so many points
of the law disputed among the Stoics. "In selling a slave, should his
faults be declared — not those only which he seller is bound by the civil law
to declare or have the slave returned to him, but also the fact that he is
untruthful, or disposed to ramble. or steal, or get drunk?" The one thinks
such faults should be declared, the other does not.
{92} "If a man thinks
that he is selling brass, when he is actually selling gold. should an upright
man inform him that his stuff is gold, or go on buying for one shilling/a what
is worth a thousand?" It is clear enough by this time what my views are on
these questions, and what are the grounds of dispute between the above-named
philosophers.
XXIV.
The question arises also
whether agreements and promises must always be kept, "when," in the
language of the praetors' edicts, "they have not been secured through
force or criminal fraud." If one man gives another a remedy for the
dropsy. with the stipulation that, if he is cured by it, he shall never make
use of it again; suppose the patient's health is restored by the use of it, but
some years later he contracts the same disease once more; and suppose he cannot
secure from the man with whom he made the agreement permission to use the
remedy again, what should he do? That is the question. Since the man is
unfeeling in refusing the request, and since no harm could be done to him by
his friend's using the remedy, the sick man is justified in doing what he can
for his own life and health. {93} Again: suppose that a millionaire is making
some wise man his heir and leaving him in his will a hundred million
sesterces;/a and suppose that he has asked the wise man, before he enters upon
his inheritance, to dance publicly in broad daylight in the forum; and suppose
that the wise man has given his promise to do so, because the rich man would
not leave him his fortune on any other condition; should he keep his promise or
not? I wish he had made no such promise; that, I think, would have been in
keeping with his dignity. But, seeing that he has made it, it will be morally
better for him, if he believes it morally wrong to dance in the forum, to break
his promise and refuse to accept his inheritance rather than to keep his
promise and accept it — unless, perhaps, he contributes the money to the state
to meet some grave crisis. In that case, to promote thereby the interests of
one's country, it would not be morally wrong even to dance, if you please, in
the forum.
{94} XXV.
No more binding are those
promises which are inexpedient for the persons themselves to whom they have
been given. To go back to the realm of story, the sun-god promised his son
Phaethon to do for him whatever he should wish. His wish was to be allowed to
ride in his father's chariot. It was granted. And before he came back to the
ground he was consumed by a stroke of lightning. How much better had it been,
if in this the the father's promise had not been kept. And what of that
promise, the fulfilment of which Theseus required from Neptune? When Neptune
offered him three wishes, he wished for the death of his son Hippolytus,
because the father was suspicious of the son's relations with his step-mother.
And when this wish was granted, Theseus was overwhelmed with grief. And once
more; when Agamemnon had vowed to Diana the most beautiful creature born that
year within his realm, he was brought to sacrifice Iphigenia; for in that year
nothing was born more beautiful than she. He ought to have broken his vow
rather than commit so horrible a crime.
??{95} Promises are,
therefore, sometimes not to be kept; and trusts are not always to be restored.
Suppose that a person leaves his sword with you when he is in his right mind,
and demands it back in a fit of insanity; it would be criminal to restore it to
him; it would be your duty not to do so. Again, suppose that a man who has
entrusted money to you proposes to make war upon your common country, should
you restore the trust? I believe you should not; for you would be acting
against the state, which ought to be the dearest thing in the world to you.
Thus there are many things which in and of themselves seem morally right, but
which under certain circumstances prove to be not morally right: to keep a
promise, to abide by an agreement, to restore a trust may, with a change of
expediency, cease to be morally right. With this I think I have said enough
about those actions which masquerade as expedient under the guise of prudence,
while they are really contrary to justice.
{96} Since, however, in
Book One we derived moral duties from the four sources of moral rectitude, let
us continue the same fourfold division here in pointing out how hostile to
virtue are those courses of conduct which seem to be, but really are not,
expedient. We have discussed wisdom, which cunning seeks to counterfeit, and
likewise justice, which is always expedient. There remain for our discussion
two divisions of moral rectitude, the one of which is discernible in the
greatness and pre-eminence of a superior soul, the other, in the shaping and
regulation of it by temperance and self-control.
{97} XXVI.
Ulysses thought his ruse
expedient, as the tragic poets, at least, have represented him. In Homer, our
most reliable authority, no such suspicion is cast upon him; but the tragedies
charge him with trying to escape a soldier's service by feigning madness. The
trick was not morally right, but, someone may perhaps say, "It was
expedient for him to keep his throne and live at ease in Ithaca with parents,
wife, and son. Do you think that there is any glory in facing daily toil and
danger that can be compared with a life of such tranquillity?"
Nay; I think that
tranquillity at such a price is to be despised and rejected; for if it is not
morally {98} right, neither is it expedient. For what do you think would have
been said of Ulysses, if he had persisted in that pretended madness, seeing
that, notwithstanding his deeds of heroism in the war, he was nevertheless
upbraided by Ajax thus:
'Twas he himself who first
proposed the oath; ye all
Do know; yet he alone of all his vow did break;
He feigned persistently that he was mad, that thus
He might not have to join the host.
And had not then Palamedes, shrewd and wise, his tricky impudence
Unmasked, he had evaded e'en for aye his vow.
Do know; yet he alone of all his vow did break;
He feigned persistently that he was mad, that thus
He might not have to join the host.
And had not then Palamedes, shrewd and wise, his tricky impudence
Unmasked, he had evaded e'en for aye his vow.
{99} Nay, for him it had
been better to battle not only with the enemy but also with the waves, as he
did, than to desert Greece when she was united for waging the war against the
barbarians. But let us leave illustrations both from story and from foreign
lands and turn to real events in our own history. Marcus Atilius Regulus in his
second consulship was taken prisoner in Africa by the stratagem of Xanthippus,
a Spartan general serving under the command of Hannibal's father Hamilcar./a He
was sent to the senate on parole, sworn to return to Carthage himself, if
certain noble prisoners of war/b were not restored to the Carthaginians. When
he came to Rome, he could not fail to see the specious appearance of
expediency, but he decided that it was unreal, as the outcome proves. His
apparent interest was to remain in his own country, to stay at home with his
wife and children, and to retain his rank and dignity as an ex-consul,
regarding the defeat which he had suffered as a misfortune that might come to
anyone in the game of war. Who says that this was not expedient? Who, think
you? Greatness of soul and courage say that it was {100} not.
XXVII.
Can you ask for more
competent authorities? The denial comes from those virtues, for it is
characteristic of them to await nothing with fear, to rise superior to all the
vicissitudes of earthly life, and to count nothing intolerable that can befall
a human being. What, then, did he do? He came into the senate and stated his
mission; but he refused to give his own vote on the question; for, he held, he
was not a member of the senate so long as he was bound by the oath sworn to his
enemies. And more than that, he said — "What a foolish fellow,"
someone will say, "to oppose his own best interests" he said that it
was not expedient that the prisoners should be returned; for they were young
men and gallant officers, while he was already bowed with age. And when his
counsel prevailed, the prisoners were retained and he himself returned to
Carthage; affection for his country and his family failed to hold him back. And
even then he was not ignorant of the fact that he was going to a most cruel
enemy and to exquisite tor ?? aged prisoner of war, a man of consular rank
forsworn.
??{101} "But,"
you will say, "it was foolish of him not only not to advocate the exchange
of prisoners but even to plead against such action!" How was it foolish?
Was it so, even if his policy was for the good of the state? Nay; can what is
inexpedient for the state be expedient for any individual citizen?
XXVIII.
People overturn the
fundamental principles established by Nature, when they divorce expediency from
moral rectitude. For we all seek to obtain what is to us expedient; we are
irresistibly drawn toward it, and we cannot possibly be otherwise. For who is
there that would turn his back upon what is to him expedient? Or rather, who is
there that does not exert himself to the utmost to secure it? But because we
cannot discover it anywhere except in good report, propriety, and moral
rectitude, we look upon these three for that reason as the first and the
highest objects of endeavour, while what we term expediency we account not so
much an ornament to our dignity as a necessary incident to living. {102}
"What significance, then," someone will say, "do we attach to an
oath? It is not that we fear the wrath of Jove, is it? Not at all; it is the
universally accepted view of all philosophers that God is never angry, never
hurtful. This is the doctrine not only of those/a who teach that God is Himsel
free from troubling cares and that He imposes no trouble upon others, but also
of those/b who believe that God is ever working and ever directing His world.
Furthermore, suppose Jupiter had been wroth, what greater injury could He have
inflicted upon Regulus than Regulus brought upon himself? Religious scruple, therefore,
had no such preponderance as to outweigh so great expediency." "Or
was he afraid that his act would be morally wrong? As to that, first of all,
the proverb says, 'Of evils choose the least.' Did that moral wrong then,
really involve as great an evil as did that awful torture? And secondly, there
are the lines of Accius:
Thyestes. Hast thou broke
thy faith?
Atreus. None have I given; none give I ever to the faithless.
Atreus. None have I given; none give I ever to the faithless.
Although this sentiment is
put into the mouth of a wicked king, still it is illuminating in its
correctness."
{103} Their third argument
is this: just as we maintain that some things seem expedient but are not, so
they maintain, some things seem morally right but are not. "For
example," they contend, "in this very case it seems morally right for
Regulus to have returned to torture for the sake of being true to his oath. But
it proves not to be morally right, because what an enemy extorted by force
ought not to have been binding." As their concluding argument, they add:
whatever is highly expedient may prove to be morally right, even if it did not
seem so in advance. These are in substance the arguments raised against the
conduct of Regulus. Let us consider them each in turn.
{104} XXIX.
"He need not have been
afraid that Jupiter in anger would inflict injury upon him; he is not wont to
be angry or hurtful."
This argument, at all
events, has no more weight against Regulus's conduct than it has against the
keeping of any other oath. But in taking an oath it is our duty to consider not
what one may have to fear in case of violation but wherein its obligation lies:
an oath is an assurance backed by religious sanctity; and a solemn promise
given, as before God as one's witness, is to be sacredly kept. For the question
no longer concerns the wrath of the gods (for there is no such thing) but the
obligations of justice and good faith. For, as Ennius says so admirably:
Gracious Good Faith, on wings upborne; thou oath
in Jupiter's great name!
Whoever, therefore,
violates his oath violates Good Faith; and, as we find it stated in Cato's
speech, our forefathers chose that she should dwell upon the Capitol
"neighbour to Jupiter Supreme and Best."
{105} "But,"
objection was further made, "even if Jupiter had been angry, he could not
have inflicted greater injury upon Regulus than Regulus brought upon
himself." Quite true, if there is no evil except pain. But philosopbers/a
of the bighest authority assure us that pain is not only not the supreme evil
but no evil at all. And pray do not disparage Regulus, as no unimportant
witness — nay, I am rather inclined to think he was the very best witness — to
the truth of their doctrine. For what more co ?? that is, shall one
"choose moral wrong rather than misfortune," or is there any evil
greater than moral wrong? For if physical deformity excites a certain amount of
aversion, how offensive ought the deformity and hideousness of a demoralized
soul to seem! {106} Therefore, those/a who discuss these problems with more
rigour make bold to say that moral wrong is the only evil, while those/b who
treat them with more laxity do not hesitate to call it the supreme evil. Once
more, they quote the sentiment:
"None have I given, none give I ever to the
faithless."
It was proper for the poet
to say that, because, when he was working out his Atreus, he had to make the
words fit the character. But if they mean to adopt it as a principle, that a
pledge given to the faithless is no pledge, let them look to it that it be not
a mere loophole for perjury that they seek. {107} Furthermore, we have laws
regulating warfare, and fidelity to an oath must often be observed in dealings
with an enemy: for an oath sworn with the clear understanding in one's own mind
that it should be performed must be kept; but if there is no such
understanding, it does not count as perjury if one does not perform the vow.
For example, suppose that one does not deliver the amount agreed upon with
pirates as the price of one's life, that would be accounted no deception — not
even if one should fail to deliver the ransom after having sworn to do so; for
a pirate is not included in the number of lawful enemies, but is {108} word nor
any oath mutually binding. For swearing to what is false is not necessarily
perjury, but to take an oath "upon your conscience," as it is
expressed in our legal formulas, and then fail to perform it, that is perjury.
For Euripides aptly says: "My tongue has sworn; the mind I have has sworn
no oath." But Regulus had no right to confound by perjury the terms and
covenants of war made with an enemy. For the war was being carried on with a
legitimate, declared enemy; and to regulate our dealings with such an enemy, we
have our whole fetial/a code as well as many other laws that are binding in
common between nations. Were this not the case, the senate would never have
delivered up illustrious men of ours in chains to the enemy.
{109} XXX.
And yet that very thing
happened. Titus Veturius and Spurius Postumius in their second consulship lost
the battle at the Caudine Forks, and our legions were sent under the yoke. And
because they made peace with the Samnites, those generals were delivered up to
them, for they had made the peace without the approval of the people and
senate. And Tiberius Numicius and Quintus Maelius, tribunes of the people, were
delivered up at the same time, because it was with their sanction that the
peace had been concluded. This was done in order that the peace with the
Samnites might be annulled. And Postumius, the very man whose delivery was in
question, was the proposer and advocate of the said delivery. Many years
later,/b Gaius Mancinus had a similar experience: he advocated the bill,
introduced in accordance with a decree of the senate by Lucius Furius and Sextus
Atilius, that he should be delivered up to the Numantines, with whom he had
made a treaty without authorization from the senate; and when the bill was
passed, he was delivered up to the enemy. His action was more honourable than
Quintus Pompey's. Pompey's situation was identical with his, and yet at his own
entreaty the bill was rejected. In this latter case, apparent expediency
prevailed over moral rectitude; in the former cases, the false semblance of
expediency was overbalanced by the weight of moral rectitude.
{110} "But," they
argued against Regulus, "an oath extorted by force ought not to have been
binding." As if force could be brought to bear upon a brave man! "
Why, then, did he make the journey to the senate, especially when he intended
to plead against the surrender of the prisoners of war?" Therein you are
criticizing what is the noblest feature of his conduct. For he was not content
to stand upon his own Judement but took up the case, in order that the judgment
might be that of the senate; and had it not been for the weight of his
pleading, the prisoners would certainly have been restored to the
Carthaginians; and in that case, Regulus would have remained safe at home in
his country. But because he thought this not expedient for his country, he believed
that it was therefore morally right for him to declare his conviction and to
suffer for it. When they argued also that what is highly expedient may prove to
be morally right, they ought rather to say not that it "may prove to
be" but that it actually is morally right. For nothing can be expedient
which is not at the same time morally right; neither can a thing be morally
right just because it is expedient, but it is expedient because it is morally
right. From the many splendid examples in history therefore, we could not
easily point to one either more praiseworthy or more heroic than the conduct of
Regulus.
{111} XXXI.
But of all that is thus
praiseworthy in the conduct of Regulus, this one feature above all others calls
for our admiration: it was he who offered the motion that the prisoners of war
be retained. For the fact of his returning may seem admirable to us, nowadays,
but in those times he could not have done otherwise. That merit, therefore,
belongs to the age, not to the man. For our ancestors were of the opinion that
no bond was more effective in guaranteeing good faith than an oath. That is,
clearly proved by the laws of the Twelve Tables, by the "sacred"
laws,/a by the treaties in which good faith is pledged even to the enemy, by
the investigations made by the censors and the penalties, imposed by them; for
there were no cases in which they used to render more rigorous decisions than
in cases of violation of an oath.
{112} Marcus Pomponius, a
tribune of the people, brought an indictment against Lucius Manlius, Aulus's
son, for having extended the term of his dictatorship a few days beyond its
expiration. He further charged him with having banished his own son Titus
(afterward surnamed Torquatus) from all companionship with his was then a young
man, heard that his father was in trouble on his account, he hastened to Rome —
so the story goes — and at daybreak presented himself at the house of
Pomponius. The visitor was announced to Pomponius. Inasmuch as he thought that
the son in his anger meant to bring him some new evidence to use against the
father, he arose from his bed, asked all who were present to leave the room,
and sent word to the young man to come in. Upon entering, he at once drew a
sword and swore that he would kill the tribune on the spot, if he did not swear
an oath to withdraw the suit against his father. Constrained by the terror of
the situation, Pomponius gave his oath. He reported the matter to the people,
explaining why he was obliged to drop the prosecution, and withdrew his suit
against Manlius. Such was the regard for the sanctity of an oath in those days.
And that lad was the Titus Manlius who in the battle on the Anio killed the
Gaul by whom he had been challenged to single combat, pulled off his torque and
thus won his surname. And in his third consulship he routed the Latins and put
them to flight in the battle on the Veseris. He was one of the greatest of the
great, and one who, while more than generous toward his father, could yet be
bitterly severe toward his son.
{113} XXXII.
Now, as Regulus deserves
praise for being true to his oath, so those ten whom Hannibal sent to the
senate on parole after the battle of Cannae deserve censure, if it is true that
they did not return; for they were sworn to return to the camp which bad fallen
into the hands of the Carthaginians, if they did not succeed in negotiating an
exchange of prisoners. Historians are not in agreement in regard to the facts.
Polybius, one of the very best authorities, states that of the ten eminent
nobles who were sent at that time, nine returned when their mission failed at
the hands of the senate. But one of the ten, who, a little while after leaving
the camp, had gone back on the pretext that he had forgotten something or
other, remained behind at Rome; he explained that by his return to the camp he
was released from the obligation of his oath. He was wrong; for deceit does not
remove the guilt of perjury — it merely aggravates it. His cunning that
impudently tried to masquerade as prudence was, therefore, only folly. And so
the senate ordered that the cunning scoundrel should be taken back to Hannibal
in chains.
{114} But the most
significant part of the story is this: the eight thousand prisoners in
Hannibal's hands were not men that he had taken in the battle or that had
escaped in the peril of their lives, but men that the consuls Paulus and Varro
had left behind in camp. Though these might have been ransomed by a small sum
of money, the senate voted not to redeem them, in order that our soldiers might
have the lesson planted in their hearts that they must either conquer or die.
When Hannibal heard this news, according to that same writer, he lost heart
completely, because the senate and the people of Rome displayed courage so
lofty in a time of disaster. Thus apparent expediency is outweighed when placed
in the balance against moral rectitude.
{115} Gaius Acilius, on the
other hand, the author of a history of Rome in the camp to release themselves
thus from the obligation of their oath, and that they were branded by the
censors with every mark of disgrace. Let this be the conclusion of this topic.
For it must be perfectly apparent that acts that are done with a cowardly,
craven, abject, broken spirit, as the act of Regulus would have been if he had
supported in regard to the prisoners a measure that seemed to be advantageous
for him personally, but disadvantageous for the state, or if he had consented
to remain at home — that such acts are not expedient, because they are
shameful, dishonourable, and immoral.
{116} XXXIII.
We have still left our
fourth division comprising propriety, moderation, temperance, self-restraint,
self-control. Can anything be expedient, then, which is contrary to such a
chorus of virtues? And yet the Cyrenaics, adherents of the school of
Aristippus, and the philosophers who bear the name of Anniceris find all good
to consist in pleasure and consider virtue praiseworthy only because it is
productive of pleasure. Now that these schools are out of date, Epicurus has
come into vogue — an advocate and supporter of practically the same doctrine.
Against such a philosophy we must fight it out "with horse and foot,"
as the saying is, if our purpose is to defend and maintain our standard of
moral rectitude.
{117} For if, as we find it
in the writings of Metrodorus, not only expediency but happiness in life
depends wholly upon a sound physical constitution and the reasonable expectation that
it will always remain sound, then that expediency — and, what is more, the
highest expediency, as they estimate it — will assuredly clash with moral
rectitude. For first of all, what position will wisdom occupy in that system?
The position of collector of pleasures from every possible source? What a sorry
state of servitude for a virtue — to be pandering to sensual pleasure! And what
will be the function of wisdom? To make skilful choice between sensual
pleasures? Granted that there may be nothing more pleasant, what can be
conceived more degrading for wisdom than such a role? Then again, if anyone
hold that pain is the supreme evil, what place in his philosophy has fortitude,
which is but indifference to toil and pain? For, however many passages there
are in which Epicurus speaks right manfully of pain, we must nevertheless
consider not what he says, but what it is consistent for a man to say who has
defined the good in terms of pleasure and evil in terms of pain. And further,
if I should listen to him, I should find that in many passages he has a great
deal to say about temperance and self-control; but "the water will not
run," as they say. For how can he commend self-control and yet posit
pleasure as the supreme good? For self-control is the foe of the passions, and
the passions are the handmaids of pleasure. {118} And yet when it comes to
these three cardinal virtues, those philosophers shift and turn as best they
can, and not without cleverness. They admit wisdom into their system as the
knowledge that provides pleasures and banishes pain; they clear the way for fortitude
also in some way to fit in with their doctrines, when they teach that it is a
rational means for looking with indifference upon death and for enduring pain.
They bring even temperance in — not very easily, to be sure, but still as best
they can; for they hold that the height of pleasure is found in the absence of
pain. Justice totters or rather, I should say, lies already prostrate; so also
with all those virtues which are discernible in social life and the fellowship
of human society. For neither goodness nor generosity nor courtesy can exist,
any more than friendship can, if they are not sought of and for themselves, but
are cultivated only for the sake of sensual pleasure or personal advantage. Let
us now recapitulate briefly.
{119} As I have shown that
such expediency as is opposed to moral rectitude is no expedieney, so I
maintain that any and all sensual pleasure is opposed to moral rectitude. And
therefore Calliphon and Dinomachus, in my judgment, deserve the greater
condemnation; they imagined that they should settle the controversy by coupling
pleasure with moral rectitude; as well yoke a man with a beast! But moral
rectitude does not accept such a union; she abhors it, spurns it. Why, the
supreme good, which ought to be simple, cannot be a compound and mixture of
absolutely contradictory qualities. But this theory I have discussed more fully
in another connection; for the subject is a large one. Now for the matter
before us. {120} We have, then, fully discussed the problem how a question is to
be decided, if ever that which seems to be expediency clashes with moral
rectitude. But if, on the other hand, the assertion is made that pleasure
admits of a show of expediency also, there can still be no possible union
between it and moral rectitude. For, to make the most generous admission we can
in favour of pleasure, we will grant that it may contribute something that
possibly gives some spice to life, but certainly nothing that is really
expedient.
{121} Herewith, my son
Marcus, you have a present from your father — a generous one, in my humble
opinion; but its value will depend upon the spirit in which you receive it. And
yet you must welcome these three books as fellow-guests so to speak, along with
your notes on Cratippus's lectures. But as you would sometimes give ear to me
also, if I had come to Athens (and I should be there now, if my country had not
called me back with accents unmistakable, when I was half-way there), so you
will please devote as much time as you can to these volumes, for in them my
voice will travel to you; and you can devote to them as much time as you will.
And when I see that you take delight in this branch of philosophy, I shall then
talk further with you — at an early date,/a I hope, face to face — but as long
as you are abroad, I shall converse with you thus at a distance. Farewell, my
dear Cicero, and be assured that, while you are the object of my deepest
affection, you will be dearer to me still, if you find pleasure in such counsel
and instruction.
Notes
[1] Cicero's technical
terms are difficult because he has to invent them to translate Greek that is
perfectly simple: "rectum" is 'right,' i.e. perfect, absolute. Its
opposite is "medium," 'mean,' i.e. falling short of the 'absolute'
and occupying a middle ground; common, ordinary.
"honestum" is
'morally right'; as a noun, 'moral goodness' (= honestas); its opposite is
"turpe," 'morally wrong.'
"honestas" is
'moral rectitude' — 'moral goodness'; 'morality'; it's opposite "turpitudo,"
'moral wrong,' 'immorality.'
"honestus", on
the other hand, is always 'honourable'; and "honores" are always
'offices of honour.'
[2] Cicero plays on the
double meaning of honestum: 1) "moral goodness," and 2)
"honourable" "distinguished," etc.
[3] Plato, Phaedr. 279C;
Aristotle, Eth. VIII, 11; [2DRY 198, quotes Ovid Met]
[4] The Greek palaestra, a
public school of wrestling and athletics, adopted by the Romans became a place
of exercise where the youth were trained in gestures and attitudes, a nursery
of foppish manners.
[5] Like Pyrgopolinices in
the Miles Gloriosus of Plautus, or Thraso in the Eunuchus of Terence.
[6] [Long note on C's
confusion of wisdom and social instinct. I think the editor is wrong — BRS]
[7] Such as Pompey, Cato,
Hortensius, and Piso.
[8] Aristotle and
Theophrastus.
[9] That is, they make a
false distinction between (1) moral rectitude that is at the same time
expedient; (2) moral rectitude that is (apparently) not expedient; and (3) the
expedient that is (apparently) not morally right.
[10] Julius Caesar.
[11] The Romans were
accustomed to set up a spear as a sign of an auction-sale — a symbol derived
from the sale of booty taken in war.
[12] Now lost, though they
were still known to Petrarch.
[13] Cicero means by
"kind services" the services of the lawyer; he was forbidden by law
to accept a fee; his services, if he contributed them, were "acts of
kindness."
[14] Lit. flash with the
fingers; shoot out some fingers, the number of which had to be guessed.
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