On Fate
De Fato
Headnote
De Fato — On Fate — belongs to the same astonishing run of philosophical writing that Cicero produced in 45 and 44 BC, and forms the third panel of a connected inquiry into religion and the gods, after De Natura Deorum and De Divinatione. He composed it in the spring of 44, in the unsettled months after Caesar’s assassination, and set it as a conversation held at his villa near Puteoli with Aulus Hirtius, the consul-designate and an old friend, with whom he says he was spending long days in search of some path back to peace and concord in the state. The dialogue frame is light: Hirtius asks to hear something, and Cicero, taking up a single proposition for examination in the manner of the Academy, holds forth.
The question is whether everything that happens is fixed by fate, and if it is, whether anything is left in our power. Cicero works through the Stoic case for an unbroken chain of causes — above all the arguments of Chrysippus — and the famous puzzles that cluster around it: the "lazy argument" [Greek: argos logos], which would have a man do nothing on the ground that the outcome is settled either way; the dilemma of Diodorus over what is possible; and the Stoic claim that every proposition about the future is already true or false. Against the Stoics he sets the Epicurean answer, the unprovoked swerve of the atom, by which Epicurus hoped to rescue the freedom of the will — and finds it no better, a remedy worse than the disease. Cicero’s own conclusion, so far as the broken text lets us follow it, is that the will is moved by causes but not compelled by them: some things are in our power, and a man’s assent is his own.
The work survives only as a torso. Its opening is lost, so that the treatise begins in mid-argument, and the end breaks off in mid-sentence; there are gaps within as well, and a handful of later quotations preserve scraps of what is missing. Even so, it is the fullest surviving discussion from antiquity of determinism and responsibility, and a chief channel through which Stoic and Epicurean thinking on the subject reached later philosophy. The technical vocabulary Cicero forged here to carry Greek logic into Latin — and his refusal to purchase freedom either at the price of the Stoic chain or by the arbitrary lurch of an atom — gave the problem of fate and the will much of the shape it would keep for centuries.
because it bears on character, which they call "character" ēthos, we are accustomed to call that part of philosophy "on character," but it is fitting, as one who enlarges the Latin tongue, to name it the moral part. We must also set out the force and the principle of propositions, which the Greeks call axiōmata; and as for what force they have when they say something about a future thing and about that which can come to pass or cannot, this is an obscure question, which the philosophers call "on possibles" peri dynatōn, and the whole of it is logic logikē, which I call the method of reasoning. But what I did in those other books, the ones on the nature of the gods, and likewise in those I published on divination — to set out a continuous discourse on both sides, so that each man might more readily accept what seemed most probable to him — that, in this discussion of fate, a certain accident prevented me from doing.
quia pertinet ad mores, quod h)=qos illi vocant, nos eam partem philosophiae de moribus appellare solemus, sed decet augentem linguam Latinam nominare moralem; explicandaque vis est ratioque enuntiationum, quae Graeci a)ciw/mata vocant; quae de re futura cum aliquid dicunt deque eo, quod possit fieri aut non possit, quam vim habeant, obscura quaestio est, quam peri\ dunatw=n philosophi appellant, totaque est logikh/, quam rationem disserendi voco. Quod autem in aliis libris feci, qui sunt de natura deorum, itemque in iis, quos de divinatione edidi, ut in utramque partem perpetua explicaretur oratio, quo facilius id a quoque probaretur, quod cuique maxime probabile videretur, id in hac disputatione de fato casus quidam ne facerem inpedivit.
For when I was at my place near Puteoli, and our friend Hirtius, the consul-elect, was in the same parts — a man most devoted to me and to those studies in which I have lived since boyhood — we were much together, chiefly indeed inquiring into those counsels that bore on peace and on the concord of the citizens. For since, after the death of Caesar, every cause of fresh disturbances seemed to be in the seeking, and we judged that they had to be met, almost all our talk was spent on these deliberations; and so it was both often on other occasions and, on one day rather freer than usual and more clear of interruptions, when he had come to me, that we began with the matters that were our daily and, as it were, regular business, on peace and on quiet.
Nam cum essem in Puteolano Hirtiusque noster, consul designatus, isdem in locis, vir nobis amicissimus et his studiis, in quibus nos a pueritia viximus, deditus, multum una eramus, maxime nos quidem exquirentes ea consilia, quae ad pacem et ad concordiam civium pertinerent. Cum enim omnes post interitum Caesaris novarum perturbationum causae quaeri viderentur iisque esse occurrendum putaremus, omnis fere nostra in his deliberationibus consumebatur oratio, idque et saepe alias et quodam liberiore, quam solebat, et magis vacuo ab interventoribus die, cum ad me ille venisset, primo ea, quae erant cotidiana et quasi legitima nobis, de pace et de otio.
When these had been gone through: "What then?" said he. "Since you have not, I hope, given up your oratorical exercises, but have certainly set philosophy before them — may I hear something?" By all means, said I, either hear or speak; for I have not, as you rightly suppose, deserted those studies of oratory, with which I even kindled you, though I had received you already blazing; nor do the matters I now handle diminish that faculty, but rather enlarge it. For the orator has a great fellowship with this kind of philosophy that I follow; he borrows subtlety from the Academy and gives back to it in turn a richness of speech and the ornaments of expression. And so, said I, since both studies are our possession, today let it be your choice which you would rather enjoy. Then said Hirtius: Most welcome, and like all that is yours; for never has your goodwill refused anything to my eagerness.
Quibus actis Quid ergo? inquit ille, quoniam oratorias exercitationes non tu quidem, ut spero, reliquisti, sed certe philosophiam illis anteposuisti, possumne aliquid audire? Tu vero, inquam, vel audire vel dicere; nec enim, id quod recte existimas, oratoria illa studia deserui, quibus etiam te incendi, quamquam flagrantissumum acceperam, nec ea, quae nunc tracto, minuunt, sed augent potius illam facultatem. Nam cum hoc genere philosophiae, quod nos sequimur, magnam habet orator societatem; subtilitatem enim ab Academia mutuatur et ei vicissim reddit ubertatem orationis et ornamenta dicendi. Quam ob rem, inquam, quoniam utriusque studii nostra possessio est, hodie, utro frui malis, optio sit tua. Tum Hirtius: Gratissumum, inquit, et tuorum omnium simile; nihil enim umquam abnuit meo studio voluntas tua.
But since your rhetorical works are known to me, and I have both often heard you in them and shall hear you again — and since the Tusculan Disputations make plain that you have taken up this Academic practice of arguing against a thesis put forward — I should like, if it is no trouble to you, to lay something down for me to hear argued. Can anything be a trouble to me, said I, that will be welcome to you? But you shall hear me as a Roman, as one stepping timidly into this kind of argument, as one taking up these studies again after a long interval. So I shall hear you arguing, said he, as I read the things you have written. Then begin. Let us sit down here.
Sed quoniam rhetorica mihi vestra sunt nota teque in iis et audivimus saepe et audiemus atque hanc Academicorum contra propositum disputandi consuetudinem indicant te suscepisse Tusculanae disputationes, ponere aliquid, ad quod audiam, si tibi non est molestum, volo. An mihi, inquam, potest quicquam esse molestum, quod tibi gratum futurum sit? Sed ita audies, ut Romanum hominem, ut timide ingredientem ad hoc genus disputandi, ut longo intervallo haec studia repetentem. Ita, inquit, audiam te disputantem, ut ea lego, quae scripsisti. Proinde ordire. Considamus hic.
in some of which — as in the poet Antipater, as in those born on a winter’s day, as in brothers who fall sick together, as in urine, as in fingernails, as in the rest of that sort — the contagion of nature has its force, which I do not abolish, but there is no force of fate; while in others there may be certain things that come by chance, as in that famous shipwrecked man, as in Icadius, as in Daphitas. Some things, too, Posidonius — let me say it with the master’s leave — seems to invent; and they are indeed absurd. For what of it? If it was Daphitas’s fate to fall from a horse and so to perish, was it from this horse, which, since it was no horse, bore another’s name? Or was Philip warned to beware these little four-horse teams on his sword-hilt? As if, forsooth, he were slain by a hilt. And what is so remarkable about that nameless shipwrecked man having slipped into a stream? — though here at least the writer records it was foretold to him that he would die in water. Nor, by Hercules, do I see any fate at all for the pirate Icadius;
quorum in aliis, ut in Antipatro poe+ta, ut in brumali die natis, ut in simul aegrotantibus fratribus, ut in urina, ut in unguibus, ut in reliquis eius modi, naturae contagio valet, quam ego non tollo, vis est nulla fatalis; in aliis autem fortuita quaedam esse possunt, ut in illo naufrago, ut in Icadio, ut in Daphita; quaedam etiam Posidonius (pace magistri dixerim) comminisci videtur; sunt quidem absurda. Quid enim? si Daphitae fatum fuit ex equo cadere atque ita perire, ex hocne equo, qui cum equus non esset, nomen habebat alienum? aut Philippus hasne in capulo quadrigulas vitare monebatur? quasi vero capulo sit occisus. Quid autem magnum aut naufragum illum sine nomine in rivo esse lapsum? (quamquam huic quidem hic scribit praedictum in aqua esse pereundum); ne hercule Icadii quidem praedonis video fatum ullum;
for he records that nothing was foretold to him. What wonder, then, that a rock from the cave fell upon his legs? For I suppose that, even if Icadius had not then been in the cave, that rock would have fallen all the same. For either nothing whatever is fortuitous, or this very thing could have come about by chance. I ask, therefore — and this point will reach far — if there were no name of fate at all, no nature, no force, and most things or all things came to pass by chance, at random, by accident, would they come to pass otherwise than they now come to pass? What use is it, then, to thrust fate in, when without fate the account of all things may be referred to nature or to fortune?
nihil enim scribit ei praedictum. Quid mirum igitur ex spelunca saxum in crura eius incidisse? puto enim, etiamsi Icadius tum in spelunca non fuisset, saxum tamen illud casurum fuisse. Nam aut nihil omnino est fortuitum, aut hoc ipsum potuit evenire fortuna. Quaero igitur (atque hoc late patebit), si fati omnino nullum nomen, nulla natura, nulla vis esset et forte temere casu aut pleraque fierent aut omnia, num aliter, ac nunc eveniunt, evenirent. Quid ergo adtinet inculcare fatum, cum sine fato ratio omnium rerum ad naturam fortunamve referatur?
But let us dismiss Posidonius, as is fair, with our good will, and return to Chrysippus’s snares. To him let us first reply about this contagion of things itself, and pursue the rest afterward. We see how great is the difference among the natures of places: some are healthful, some pestilent; in some men are full of phlegm and, as it were, brimming over, in others dried out and parched; and there are many other things in which place differs greatly from place. At Athens the air is thin, from which the Attic people are reckoned the sharper; at Thebes it is thick, and so the Thebans are heavy and robust. Yet that thin air will not bring it about that a man hears Zeno, or Arcesilaus, or Theophrastus, nor will the thick air bring it about that one seeks victory at Nemea rather than at the Isthmus. Draw the distinction wider.
Sed Posidonium, sicut aequum est, cum bona gratia dimittamus, ad Chrysippi laqueos revertamur. Cui quidem primum de ipsa contagione rerum respondeamus, reliqua postea persequemur. Inter locorum naturas quantum intersit, videmus; alios esse salubris, alios pestilentis, in aliis esse pituitosos et quasi redundantis, in aliis exsiccatos atque aridos; multaque sunt alia, quae inter locum et locum plurimum differant. Athenis tenue caelum, ex quo etiam acutiores putantur Attici, crassum Thebis, itaque pingues Thebani et valentes. Tamen neque illud tenue caelum efficiet, ut aut Zenonem quis aut Arcesilam aut Theophrastum audiat, neque crassum, ut Nemea potius quam Isthmo victoriam petat. Diiunge longius.
For what can the nature of a place contribute to make us walk in Pompey’s portico rather than in the open field? With you rather than with another? On the Ides rather than the Kalends? As, then, the nature of a place bears upon certain things somewhat, and upon certain things nothing at all, so let the disposition of the stars have its force, if you like, upon certain things; upon all things it surely will not. But, you say, since there are unlikenesses in the natures of men — so that sweet things delight some, slightly bitter things others, and some are lustful, some prone to anger or cruel or proud, while others shrink from such vices — since, then, says he, one nature stands so far apart from another, what wonder is it that these unlikenesses have been produced by differing causes?
Quid enim loci natura adferre potest, ut in porticu Pompeii potius quam in campo ambulemus? tecum quam cum alio? Idibus potius quam Kalendis? Ut igitur ad quasdam res natura loci pertinet aliquid, ad quasdam autem nihil, sic astrorum adfectio valeat, si vis, ad quasdam res, ad omnis certe non valebit. At enim, quoniam in naturis hominum dissimilitudines sunt, ut alios dulcia, alios subamara delectent, alii libidinosi, alii iracundi aut crudeles aut superbi sint, alii a talibus vitiis abhorreant,—quoniam igitur, inquit, tantum natura a natura distat, quid mirum est has dissimilitudines ex differentibus causis esse factas?
In arguing thus he does not see what the matter is about, and where the case stands. For if some men are more inclined toward some things on account of natural and antecedent causes, it does not therefore follow that there are natural and antecedent causes also of our acts of will and of our appetites. For nothing would be in our power, were the case so. But as it is, we admit that whether we are sharp or dull, strong or feeble, is not in us. Yet whoever supposes it follows from this that not even our sitting or walking is a matter of will, he does not see what thing follows upon what. For granted that the clever and the slow are born so by antecedent causes, and likewise the strong and the feeble, it still does not follow that their sitting too, and their walking, and their doing of some deed, is fixed and settled by primary causes.
Haec disserens, qua de re agatur, et in quo causa consistat, non videt. Non enim, si alii ad alia propensiores sunt propter causas naturalis et antecedentis, idcirco etiam nostrarum voluntatum atque adpetitionum sunt causae naturales et antecedentes. Nam nihil esset in nostra potestate, si ita se res haberet. Nunc vero fatemur, acuti hebetesne, valentes inbecilline simus, non esse id in nobis. Qui autem ex eo cogi putat, ne ut sedeamus quidem aut ambulemus voluntatis esse, is non videt, quae quamque rem res consequatur. Ut enim et ingeniosi et tardi ita nascantur antecedentibus causis itemque valentes et inbecilli, non sequitur tamen, ut etiam sedere eos et ambulare et rem agere aliquam principalibus causis definitum et constitutum sit.
Stilpo, the Megarian philosopher, we have heard was a sharp man indeed and esteemed in those times. His own intimates write that he was both given to drink and given to women, and they write this not in blame, but rather to his praise; for a vicious nature, they say, had been so tamed and held down in him by learning that no one ever saw him the worse for wine, no one saw in him a trace of lust. What of it? Do we not read how Zopyrus the physiognomist marked Socrates — Zopyrus, who professed to discern men’s characters and natures from the body, the eyes, the face, the brow? He said that Socrates was stupid and dull, because he did not have hollows above the collarbone; he said those parts were blocked and stopped up. He added, too, that he was given to women — at which Alcibiades is said to have raised a great laugh.
Stilponem, Megaricum philosophum, acutum sane hominem et probatum temporibus illis accepimus. Hunc scribunt ipsius familiares et ebriosum et mulierosum fuisse, neque haec scribunt vituperantes, sed potius ad laudem; vitiosam enim naturam ab eo sic edomitam et conpressam esse doctrina, ut nemo umquam vinulentum illum, nemo in eo libidinis vestigium viderit. Quid? Socraten nonne legimus quem ad modum notarit Zopyrus physiognomon, qui se profitebatur hominum mores naturasque ex corpore, oculis, vultu, fronte pernoscere? stupidum esse Socraten dixit et bardum, quod iugula concava non haberet, obstructas eas partes et obturatas esse dicebat; addidit etiam mulierosum; in quo Alcibiades cachinnum dicitur sustulisse.
But these vices can be born from natural causes; to root them out, however, and to remove them utterly, so that the very man who was inclined toward them is called away from such great vices — that is not lodged in natural causes, but in will, in effort, in discipline. All of which are abolished, if the force and the nature of fate shall be established from the reasoning of divination. For if there is divination, from what perceived principles of the art does it set out? (By "perceived" I mean what are called in Greek "theorems" theōrēmata.) For I do not believe that, with nothing perceived, either the rest of the craftsmen are engaged in their proper task, or those who use divination foretell things to come.
Sed haec ex naturalibus causis vitia nasci possunt, extirpari autem et funditus tolli, ut is ipse, qui ad ea propensus fuerit, a tantis vitiis avocetur, non est id positum in naturalibus causis, sed in voluntate, studio, disciplina. Quae tolluntur omnia, si vis et natura fati ex divinationis ratione firmabitur. Etenim si est divinatio, qualibusnam a perceptis artis proficiscitur? (percepta appello, quae dicuntur Graece qewrh/mata ). Non enim credo nullo percepto aut ceteros artifices versari in suo munere, aut eos, qui divinatione utantur, futura praedicere.
Let, then, the astrologers’ perceptions be of this kind: If anyone, say, is born at the rising of the Dog Star, he will not die at sea. Be watchful, Chrysippus, lest you desert your own cause, in which you have a great struggle with Diodorus, a strong dialectician. For if this is true, when so connected — If anyone is born at the rising of the Dog Star, he will not die at sea — then this too is true: If Fabius is born at the rising of the Dog Star, Fabius will not die at sea. These two, then, are at war with each other: that Fabius is born at the rising of the Dog Star, and that Fabius will die at sea; and since it is laid down as certain in Fabius’s case that he was born at the rising of the Dog Star, these too are at war: that Fabius exists, and that he will die at sea. Therefore this conjunction too is one of repugnant terms: Both Fabius exists, and Fabius will die at sea — which, as it has been put, cannot even come to pass. Therefore this — Fabius will die at sea — is of that kind which cannot come to pass. Everything, then, that is falsely said of the future cannot come to pass.
Sint igitur astrologorum percepta huius modi: Si quis verbi causa oriente Canicula natus est, is in mari non morietur. Vigila, Chrysippe, ne tuam causam, in qua tibi cum Diodoro, valente dialectico, magna luctatio est, deseras. Si enim est verum, quod ita conectitur: Si quis oriente Canicula natus est, in mari non morietur, illud quoque verum est: Si Fabius oriente Canicula natus est, Fabius in mari non morietur. Pugnant igitur haec inter se, Fabium oriente Canicula natum esse, et Fabium in mari moriturum; et quoniam certum in Fabio ponitur, natum esse eum Canicula oriente, haec quoque pugnant, et esse Fabium, et in mari esse moriturum. Ergo haec quoque coniunctio est ex repugnantibus: Et est Fabius, et in mari Fabius morietur, quod, ut propositum est, ne fieri quidem potest. Ergo illud: Morietur in mari Fabius ex eo genere est, quod fieri non potest. Omne ergo, quod falsum dicitur in futuro, id fieri non potest.
But this, Chrysippus, you are least of all willing to grant, and it is precisely on this very point that your great contest with Diodorus arises. For he says that only that can happen which either is true or will be true, and whatever will be he says must necessarily happen, and whatever will not be he denies can happen. You, on the other hand, say that things which will not be can still happen — that this gem can be shattered, even if that is never going to be the case; and that it was not necessary for Cypselus to reign at Corinth, although this had been declared a thousand years before by an oracle of Apollo. But if you are going to endorse those divine predictions, then you will also have to count things stated falsely about the future among the things that cannot happen — as if it were said that Africanus would take Carthage; and if a thing is said truly about the future, and so is going to come about, you will have to say it is necessary. And that is the whole view of Diodorus, hostile to you.
At hoc, Chrysippe, minime vis, maximeque tibi de hoc ipso cum Diodoro certamen est. Ille enim id solum fieri posse dicit, quod aut sit verum aut futurum sit verum, et, quicquid futurum sit, id dicit fieri necesse esse et, quicquid non sit futurum, id negat fieri posse. Tu, et quae non sint futura, posse fieri dicis, ut frangi hanc gemmam, etiamsi id numquam futurum sit, neque necesse fuisse Cypselum regnare Corinthi, quamquam id millensimo ante anno Apollinis oraculo editum esset. At si ista conprobabis divina praedicta, et, quae falsa in futuris dicentur, in iis habebis, ut ea fieri non possint ut si dicatur Africanum Karthagine potiturum, et, si vere dicatur de futuro, idque ita futurum sit, dicas esse necessarium; quae est tota Diodori vobis inimica sententia.
For if this connection is true — "If you were born at the rising of the Dog Star, you will not die at sea" — and the first part of the connected statement, "You were born at the rising of the Dog Star," is necessary (for all true statements about the past are necessary, as Chrysippus holds, dissenting from his teacher Cleanthes, because they are unchangeable and the past cannot turn from true to false); if, then, what comes first in the connection is necessary, what follows from it becomes necessary too. Although this does not seem to Chrysippus to hold in all cases; yet still, if there is a natural cause why Fabius should not die at sea, then Fabius cannot die at sea.
Etenim si illud vere conectitur: Si oriente Canicula natus es, in mari non moriere, primumque quod est in conexo: Natus es oriente Canicula, necessarium est (omnia enim vera in praeteritis necessaria sunt, ut Chrysippo placet dissentienti a magistro Cleanthe, quia sunt inmutabilia nec in falsum e vero praeterita possunt convertere); si igitur, quod primum in conexo est, necessarium est, fit etiam, quod consequitur, necessarium. Quamquam hoc Chrysippo non videtur valere in omnibus; sed tamen, si naturalis est causa, cur in mari Fabius non moriatur, in mari Fabius mori non potest.
At this point Chrysippus, in a fever, hopes that the Chaldeans and the rest of the diviners are mistaken, and that they will not use connected statements in declaring their findings in this form — "If anyone was born at the rising of the Dog Star, he will not die at sea" — but will rather put it thus: "It is not the case both that someone was born at the rising of the Dog Star and that he will die at sea." What laughable license! To keep from falling into Diodorus’s trap himself, he instructs the Chaldeans in the manner they ought to set out their findings. For I ask: if the Chaldeans speak in such a way as to put forward negations of indefinite conjunctions rather than indefinite connected statements, why cannot physicians, why cannot geometers, why cannot the rest do the same? The physician, first of all, will not propose what is clear to him in his art in this form — "If anyone’s pulse beats thus, he has a fever" — but rather in this way: "It is not the case both that someone’s pulse beats thus and that he does not have a fever." And likewise the geometer will not say, "On a sphere the greatest circles bisect one another," but rather in this way: "It is not the case both that there are greatest circles on a sphere and that they do not bisect one another."
Hoc loco Chrysippus aestuans falli sperat Chaldaeos ceterosque divinos, neque eos usuros esse coniunctionibus, ut ita sua percepta pronuntient: Si quis natus est oriente Canicula, is in mari non morietur, sed potius ita dicant: Non et natus est quis oriente Canicula, et is in mari morietur. O licentiam iocularem! ne ipse incidat in Diodorum, docet Chaldaeos, quo pacto eos exponere percepta oporteat. Quaero enim, si Chaldaei ita loquantur, ut negationes infinitarum coniunctionum potius quam infinita conexa ponant, cur idem medici, cur geometrae, cur reliqui facere non possint. Medicus in primis, quod erit ei perspectum in arte, non ita proponet: Si cui venae sic moventur, is habet febrim, sed potius illo modo: Non et venae sic cui moventur, et is febrim non habet. Itemque geometres non ita dicet: In sphaera maximi orbes medii inter se dividuntur, sed potius illo modo: Non et sunt in sphaera maximi orbes, et ii non medii inter se dividuntur.
What is there that cannot be transferred in that fashion from a connected statement to the negation of a conjunction? And indeed we can express the same things in other ways as well. Just now I said, "On a sphere the greatest circles bisect one another"; I can say, "If there are greatest circles on a sphere"; I can say, "Because there are greatest circles on a sphere." There are many forms of statement, and none more contorted than this, in which Chrysippus hopes the Chaldeans will rest content for the Stoics’ sake.
Quid est, quod non possit isto modo ex conexo transferri ad coniunctionum negationem? Et quidem aliis modis easdem res efferre possumus. Modo dixi: In sphaera maximi orbes medii inter se dividuntur; possum dicere: Si in sphaera maximi orbes erunt, possum dicere: Quia in sphaera maximi orbes erunt. Multa genera sunt enuntiandi nec ullum distortius quam hoc, quo Chrysippus sperat Chaldaeos contentos Stoicorum causa fore.
Yet none of them speaks in that way; for it is a greater labor to learn these contortions of speech than the risings and settings of the constellations. But let us return to that thesis of Diodorus, which they call peri dynaton, in which the question is examined of what force "the possible" has. Diodorus, then, holds that only that is possible which either is true or will be true. This point touches on the present inquiry — that nothing happens which was not necessary, and that whatever can happen either is already or will be, and that the things which are future can no more be changed from true into false than the things which are past; but that in past things the immutability is plain, while in certain future things, because it is not plain, it does not even seem to be present — as in the case of one gripped by a deadly disease it is true that "He will die of this disease," yet if this same thing be said truly of one in whom no such force of disease appears, it will come about none the less. So it turns out that no change at all from true into false can occur even in the future. For "Scipio will die" has such force that, although it is said about the future, still it cannot be turned into false; for it is said of a man, and a man must necessarily die.
Illorum tamen nemo ita loquitur; maius est enim has contortiones orationis quam signorum ortus obitusque perdiscere. Sed ad illam Diodori contentionem, quam peri\ dunatw=n appellant, revertamur, in qua, quid valeat id, quod fieri possit, anquiritur. Placet igitur Diodoro id solum fieri posse, quod aut verum sit aut verum futurum sit. Qui locus attingit hanc quaestionem, nihil fieri, quod non necesse fuerit, et, quicquid fieri possit, id aut esse iam aut futurum esse, nec magis commutari ex veris in falsa posse ea, quae futura, quam ea, quae facta sunt; sed in factis inmutabilitatem apparere, in futuris quibusdam, quia non apparet, ne inesse quidem videri, ut in eo, qui mortifero morbo urgeatur, verum sit Hic morietur hoc morbo, at hoc idem si vere dicatur in eo, in quo vis morbi tanta non appareat, nihilo minus futurum sit. Ita fit, ut commutatio ex vero in falsum ne in futuro quidem ulla fieri possit. Nam Morietur Scipio talem vim habet, ut, quamquam de futuro dicitur, tamen ut id non possit convertere in falsum; de homine enim dicitur, cui necesse est mori.
In the same way, if it were said, "Scipio will die at night in his bedroom, overpowered by violence," it would be said truly; for that would be said to be going to be, which was in fact going to be; and that it was going to be ought to be understood from the fact that it has happened. Nor was "Scipio will die" any more true than "He will die in that manner," nor was it any more necessary for Scipio to die than to die in that manner, nor is "Scipio has been slain" any more unchangeable from true into false than "Scipio will be slain"; nor, since this is so, is there any reason why Epicurus should dread fate and seek protection from the atoms and lead them out of their path and at one stroke take on two insoluble difficulties: one, that something should come about without a cause — from which it follows that something comes from nothing, which neither he nor any natural philosopher allows; the other, that when two indivisible bodies are carried through the void, one should move in a straight line while the other swerves.
Sic si diceretur: Morietur noctu in cubiculo suo vi oppressus Scipio, vere diceretur; id enim fore diceretur, quod esset futurum; futurum autem fuisse ex eo, quia factum est, intellegi debet. Nec magis erat verum Morietur Scipio quam Morietur illo modo, nec magis necesse mori Scipioni quam illo modo mori, nec magis inmutabile ex vero in falsum Necatus est Scipio quam Necabitur Scipio; nec, cum haec ita sint, est causa, cur Epicurus fatum extimescat et ab atomis petat praesidium easque de via deducat et uno tempore suscipiat res duas inenodabiles, unam, ut sine causa fiat aliquid, ex quo existet, ut de nihilo quippiam fiat, quod nec ipsi nec cuiquam physico placet, alteram, ut, cum duo individua per inanitatem ferantur, alterum e regione moveatur, alterum declinet.
For Epicurus may grant that every proposition is either true or false without fearing that everything must therefore happen by fate; for it is not by eternal causes flowing from nature’s necessity that this is true which is stated thus — "Carneades is going down to the Academy" — nor yet is it without causes, but there is a difference between causes that have gone before by chance and causes that contain within themselves a natural efficacy. So it was always true that "Epicurus will die when he has lived seventy-two years, in the archonship of Pytharatus," and yet there were no fated causes why it should so fall out, but, because it so fell out, it was going to fall out, just as it did fall out, by a fixed sequence of causes.
Licet enim Epicuro concedenti omne enuntiatum aut verum aut falsum esse non vereri, ne omnia fato fieri sit necesse; non enim aeternis causis naturae necessitate manantibus verum est id, quod ita enuntiatur: Descendit in Academiam Carneades, nec tamen sine causis, sed interest inter causas fortuito antegressas et inter causas cohibentis in se efficientiam naturalem. Ita et semper verum fuit Morietur Epicurus, cum duo et septuaginta annos vixerit, archonte Pytharato, neque tamen erant causae fatales, cur ita accideret, sed, quod ita cecidit, serie certa causarum casurum, sicut cecidit, fuit.
Nor do those who say that future things are unchangeable, and that a true future cannot be turned into false, thereby confirm the necessity of fate; they are interpreting the force of words. But those who bring in an everlasting sequence of causes — they strip the mind of man of free will and bind it fast with the necessity of fate. But enough of this; let us look at other matters. For Chrysippus argues in this way: "If there is any motion without a cause, then not every proposition — what the logicians call an axioma — will be either true or false; for what does not have efficient causes will be neither true nor false; but every proposition is either true or false; therefore there is no motion without a cause. And if this is so, then all things that come about come about by antecedent causes; and if this is so, all things come about by fate. It follows, then, that whatever comes about, comes about by fate."
Nec ii, qui dicunt inmutabilia esse, quae futura sint, nec posse verum futurum convertere in falsum, fati necessitatem confirmant, sed verborum vim interpretantur. At qui introducunt causarum seriem sempiternam, ii mentem hominis voluntate libera spoliatam necessitate fati devinciunt. Sed haec hactenus; alia videamus. Concludit enim Chrysippus hoc modo: Si est motus sine causa, non omnis enuntiatio, quod a)ci/wma dialectici appellant, aut vera aut falsa erit; causas enim efficientis quod non habebit, id nec verum nec falsum erit; omnis autem enuntiatio aut vera aut falsa est; motus ergo sine causa nullus est. Quod si ita est, omnia, quae fiunt, causis fiunt antegressis; id si ita est, fato omnia fiunt; efficitur igitur fato fieri, quaecumque fiant.
Here, in the first place, if I cared to side with Epicurus and deny that every proposition is either true or false, I would rather take that blow than grant that everything comes about by fate; for the former view admits of some debate, but the latter is not to be borne. And so Chrysippus strains every nerve to persuade us that every axioma is either true or false. For just as Epicurus is afraid that, if he grants this, he must grant that whatever comes about comes about by fate (for if either of two alternatives is true from eternity, then it is also certain, and if certain, also necessary; thus he thinks both necessity and fate are confirmed) — so Chrysippus is afraid that, if he does not maintain that everything stated is either true or false, he will not hold that everything comes about by fate and from the eternal causes of future things.
Hic primum si mihi libeat adsentiri Epicuro et negare omnem enuntiationem aut veram esse aut falsam, eam plagam potius accipiam quam fato omnia fieri conprobem; illa enim sententia habet aliquid disputationis, haec vero non est tolerabilis. Itaque contendit omnis nervos Chrysippus, ut persuadeat omne a)ci/wma aut verum esse aut falsum. Ut enim Epicurus veretur, ne, si hoc concesserit, concedendum sit fato fieri, quaecumque fiant, (si enim alterum utrum ex aeternitate verum sit, esse id etiam certum et, si certum, etiam necessarium; ita et necessitatem et fatum confirmari putat) sic Chrysippus metuit, ne, si non obtinuerit omne, quod enuntietur, aut verum esse aut falsum, non teneat omnia fato fieri et ex causis aeternis rerum futurarum.
But Epicurus thinks the necessity of fate is escaped by the swerve of the atom. And so a third kind of motion arises, beyond weight and impact, when the atom swerves by the least possible interval — he calls this the elachiston. That this swerve happens without a cause, he is forced to admit, if not in words, then in fact. For one atom is not made to swerve by being struck by another. For how can one be struck by another, if individual bodies are carried by their weight straight downward in straight lines, as Epicurus holds? It follows that, if one is never driven aside by another, one does not even touch another. From which it follows that, even if there is an atom and it swerves, it swerves without a cause.
Sed Epicurus declinatione atomi vitari necessitatem fati putat. Itaque tertius quidam motus oritur extra pondus et plagam, cum declinat atomus intervallo minimo (id appellat e)la/- xiston ); quam declinationem sine causa fieri si minus verbis, re cogitur confiteri. Non enim atomus ab atomo pulsa declinat. Nam qui potest pelli alia ab alia, si gravitate feruntur ad perpendiculum corpora individua rectis lineis, ut Epicuro placet? Sequitur enim, ut, si alia ab alia numquam depellatur, ne contingat quidem alia aliam. Ex quo efficitur, etiamsi sit atomus eaque declinet, declinare sine causa.
Epicurus brought in this account for this reason: because he was afraid that, if the atom were always carried by its natural and necessary weight, nothing would be free for us, since the mind would be moved in such a way as to be compelled by the motion of the atoms. Democritus, the author of the atoms, chose rather to accept that all things come about by necessity than to tear from the individual bodies their natural motions. More acutely Carneades, who used to teach that the Epicureans could defend their case without this fictitious swerve. For since they taught that there could be a certain voluntary motion of the mind, it was better to defend that than to bring in the swerve, especially since they could not find its cause; and once that was defended, they could easily withstand Chrysippus. For having granted that there is no motion without a cause, they would not grant that all things which come about come about by antecedent causes; for our will has no external and antecedent causes.
Hanc Epicurus rationem induxit ob eam rem, quod veritus est, ne, si semper atomus gravitate ferretur naturali ac necessaria, nihil liberum nobis esset, cum ita moveretur animus, ut atomorum motu cogeretur. Id Democritus, auctor atomorum, accipere maluit, necessitate omnia fieri, quam a corporibus individuis naturalis motus avellere. Acutius Carneades, qui docebat posse Epicureos suam causam sine hac commenticia declinatione defendere. Nam cum docerent esse posse quendam animi motum voluntarium, id fuit defendi melius quam introducere declinationem, cuius praesertim causam reperire non possent; quo defenso facile Chrysippo possent resistere. Cum enim concessissent motum nullum esse sine causa, non concederent omnia, quae fierent, fieri causis antecedentibus; voluntatis enim nostrae non esse causas externas et antecedentis.
So we abuse the common usage of speech when we say that anyone wills or refuses something "without a cause"; for we say "without a cause" in such a way as to mean "without an external and antecedent cause," not "without any cause at all" — just as, when we say a vessel is empty, we do not speak as the natural philosophers do, to whom nothing is empty, but in such a way as to say, for example, that a vessel is without water, without wine, without oil; so, when we say the mind is moved without a cause, we mean that it is moved without an antecedent and external cause, not that it is moved with no cause whatever. Of the atom itself it can be said, when it is moved through the void by weight and heft, that it is moved without a cause, because no cause comes to it from outside.
Communi igitur consuetudine sermonis abutimur, cum ita dicimus, velle aliquid quempiam aut nolle sine causa; ita enim dicimus sine causa, ut dicamus: sine externa et antecedente causa, non sine aliqua; ut, cum vas inane dicimus, non ita loquimur, ut physici, quibus inane esse nihil placet, sed ita, ut verbi causa sine aqua, sine vino, sine oleo vas esse dicamus, sic, cum sine causa animum dicimus moveri, sine antecedente et externa causa moveri, non omnino sine causa dicimus. De ipsa atomo dici potest, cum per inane moveatur gravitate et pondere, sine causa moveri, quia nulla causa accedat extrinsecus.
On the other hand—lest all the natural philosophers laugh us to scorn for saying that anything comes to be without a cause—a distinction must be drawn, and we must put it this way: that it is the very nature of the individual atom to be moved by weight and gravity, and that this itself is the cause of its being carried as it is. In the same way, for the voluntary motions of the mind no external cause need be sought; for voluntary motion contains within itself that nature by which it is in our power and obeys us, and this not without a cause, since the cause of the thing is its own nature.
Rursus autem, ne omnes physici inrideant nos, si dicamus quicquam fieri sine causa, distinguendum est et ita dicendum, ipsius individui hanc esse naturam, ut pondere et gravitate moveatur, eamque ipsam esse causam, cur ita feratur. Similiter ad animorum motus voluntarios non est requirenda externa causa; motus enim voluntarius eam naturam in se ipse continet, ut sit in nostra potestate nobisque pareat, nec id sine causa; eius rei enim causa ipsa natura est.
Since this is so, what reason is there why every proposition should not be either true or false—unless we have conceded that whatever comes to be, comes to be by fate? Because, he says, things that do not have causes for their being future cannot be true as future things; therefore it is necessary that the things which are true should have causes; and so, when they have come to pass, they will have come to pass by fate. The business is settled, then, if you must concede either that all things come to be by fate, or that something can come to be without a cause.
Quod cum ita sit, quid est, cur non omnis pronuntiatio aut vera aut falsa sit, nisi concesserimus fato fieri, quaecumque fiant? Quia futura vera, inquit, non possunt esse ea, quae causas, cur futura sint, non habent; habeant igitur causas necesse est ea, quae vera sunt; ita, cum evenerint, fato evenerint. Confectum negotium, siquidem concedendum tibi est aut fato omnia fieri, aut quicquam fieri posse sine causa.
Or can this proposition not be true—"Scipio will take Numantia"—unless from all eternity a cause sowing cause from cause is going to bring it about? Or could it have been false, if it had been spoken six hundred ages before? And if at that time this proposition was not true, "Scipio will take Numantia," then neither, once the city has been overthrown, is this proposition true, "Scipio has taken Numantia." Can anything, then, have come to be that it was not true was going to be? For just as we call those things past which were truly present at an earlier time, so we shall call those things future of which it will be true at a later time that they are present.
An aliter haec enuntiatio vera esse non potest: Capiet Numantiam Scipio, nisi ex aeternitate causa causam serens hoc erit effectura? An hoc falsum potuisset esse, si esset sescentis saeculis ante dictum? Et si tum non esset vera haec enuntiatio: Capiet Numantiam Scipio, ne illa quidem eversa vera est haec enuntiatio: Cepit Numantiam Scipio. Potest igitur quicquam factum esse, quod non verum fuerit futurum esse? Nam ut praeterita ea vera dicimus, quorum superiore tempore vera fuerit instantia, sic futura, quorum consequenti tempore vera erit instantia, ea vera dicemus.
Nor, if every statement is either true or false, does it follow at once that there are immutable causes, and those eternal, which forbid anything to fall out otherwise than it is going to fall out. The causes that bring it about that things spoken in this way are spoken truly—"Cato will come into the Senate"—are fortuitous causes, not bound up in the nature of things and the order of the world; and yet that he will come, when it is true, is just as immutable as that he has come, and for that reason fate or necessity need not be dreaded. For surely one must admit this: if the statement "Hortensius will come to his place at Tusculum" is not true, it follows that it is false. These men want neither—which cannot be. Nor will that lazy argument, as it is called, hinder us; for there is a certain argument the philosophers name argos logos, the idle argument, which, if we obeyed it, we should do nothing whatever in life.
Nec, si omne enuntiatum aut verum aut falsum est, sequitur ilico esse causas inmutabilis, easque aeternas, quae prohibeant quicquam secus cadere, atque casurum sit; fortuitae sunt causae, quae efficiant, ut vere dicantur, quae ita dicentur: Veniet in senatum Cato, non inclusae in rerum natura atque mundo; et tamen tam est inmutabile venturum, cum est verum, quam venisse, nec ob eam causam fatum aut necessitas extimescenda est. Etenim erit confiteri necesse: Si hoc enuntiatum: "Veniet in Tusculanum Hortensius" verum non est, sequitur, ut falsum sit. Quorum isti neutrum volunt; quod fieri non potest. Nec nos impediet illa ignava ratio, quae dicitur; appellatur enim quidam a philosophis a)rgo lo/gos, cui si pareamus, nihil omnino agamus in vita.
For thus they put the question: If it is fated for you to recover from this illness, then whether you call in a doctor or do not call one in, you will recover; likewise, if it is fated for you not to recover from this illness, then whether you call in a doctor or do not call one in, you will not recover; and one or the other is fated; therefore it makes no difference to call in a doctor. Rightly has this kind of questioning been named lazy and inert, since by the same reasoning every action would be stripped out of life. One may even alter it, so as not to attach the word "fate" and yet hold the same opinion, in this way: If from all eternity this was true—"You will recover from that illness"—then whether you call in a doctor or do not call one in, you will recover; and likewise, if from all eternity this was false—"You will recover from that illness"—then whether you call in a doctor or do not call one in, you will not recover; and so on with the rest. This argument is refuted by Chrysippus.
Sic enim interrogant: Si fatum tibi est ex hoc morbo convalescere, sive tu medicum adhibueris sive non adhibueris, convalesces; item, si fatum tibi est ex hoc morbo non convalescere, sive tu medicum adhibueris sive non adhibueris, non convalesces; et alterutrum fatum est; medicum ergo adhibere nihil attinet. Recte genus hoc interrogationis ignavum atque iners nominatum est, quod eadem ratione omnis e vita tolletur actio. Licet etiam inmutare, ut fati nomen ne adiungas et eandem tamen teneas sententiam, hoc modo: Si ex aeternitate verum hoc fuit: "Ex isto morbo convalesces", sive adhibueris medicum sive non adhibueris, convalesces; itemque, si ex aeternitate falsum hoc fuit: "Ex isto morbo convalesces", sive adhibueris medicum sive non adhibueris, non convalesces; deinde cetera. Haec ratio a Chrysippo reprehenditur.
For some things, he says, among events are simple, some are coupled. Simple is this: "Socrates will die on that day"; for him, whether he has done anything or has done nothing, the day of dying is fixed. But if the fate is going to be this—"Oedipus will be born to Laius"—it will not be possible to say "whether Laius has lain with a woman or has not"; for the matter is coupled, and co-fated—for so he calls it, because it was fated both that Laius would lie with his wife and that he would beget Oedipus from her; just as, if it had been said "Milo will wrestle at Olympia," and someone were to add, "Then whether he has had an opponent or has not had one, he will wrestle," he would be in error; for "he will wrestle" is coupled, since without an opponent there is no wrestling. All catches of that kind, then, are refuted in the same way. "Whether you call in a doctor or do not call one in, you will recover" is a catch; for it is just as much fated to call in a doctor as to recover. These things, as I said, he calls co-fated.
Quaedam enim sunt, inquit, in rebus simplicia, quaedam copulata; simplex est: Morietur illo die Socrates; huic, sive quid fecerit sive non fecerit, finitus est moriendi dies. At si ita fatum erit: Nascetur Oedipus Laio, non poterit dici: sive fuerit Laius cum muliere sive non fuerit; copulata enim res est et confatalis; sic enim appellat, quia ita fatum sit et concubiturum cum uxore Laium et ex ea Oedipum procreaturum, ut, si esset dictum: Luctabitur Olympiis Milo et referret aliquis: Ergo, sive habuerit adversarium sive non habuerit, luctabitur, erraret; est enim copulatum luctabitur, quia sine adversario nulla luctatio est. Omnes igitur istius generis captiones eodem modo refelluntur. Sive tu adhibueris medicum sive non adhibueris, convalesces captiosum; tam enim est fatale medicum adhibere quam convalescere. Haec, ut dixi, confatalia ille appellat.
Carneades did not approve of this whole class of argument, and thought this reasoning was concluded too rashly. And so he pressed his point another way and brought to bear no chicanery; his conclusion was this: If all things come to be by antecedent causes, all things come to be linked and woven together in a natural connection; and if that is so, necessity brings all things about; if that is true, nothing is in our power; but something is in our power; and yet, if all things come to be by fate, all things come to be by antecedent causes; therefore it is not by fate that whatever comes to be, comes to be.
Carneades genus hoc totum non probabat et nimis inconsiderate concludi hanc rationem putabat. Itaque premebat alio modo nec ullam adhibebat calumniam; cuius erat haec conclusio: Si omnia antecedentibus causis fiunt, omnia naturali conligatione conserte contexteque fiunt; quod si ita est, omnia necessitas efficit; id si verum est, nihil est in nostra potestate; est autem aliquid in nostra potestate; at, si omnia fato fiunt, omnia causis antecedentibus fiunt; non igitur fato fiunt, quaecumque fiunt.
Reason cannot be drawn tighter than this. For if anyone should wish to make the same point and say it thus—"If everything future is true from all eternity, so that it surely comes about in the very way it is going to be, then it is necessary that all things come to be linked and woven together in a natural connection"—he says nothing. For it makes a great difference whether a natural cause brings it about, from all eternity, that future things are true, or whether even without natural eternity it can be understood that the things which are future are true. And so Carneades used to say that not even Apollo could speak of future events except those whose causes nature contained in such a way that they had to come to be.
Hoc artius adstringi ratio non potest. Nam si quis velit idem referre atque ita dicere: Si omne futurum ex aeternitate verum est, ut ita certe eveniat, quem ad modum sit futurum, omnia necesse est conligatione naturali conserte contexteque fieri, nihil dicat. Multum enim differt, utrum causa naturalis ex aeternitate futura vera efficiat, an etiam sine aeternitate naturali, futura quae sint, ea vera esse possint intellegi. Itaque dicebat Carneades ne Apollinem quidem futura posse dicere nisi ea, quorum causas natura ita contineret, ut ea fieri necesse esset.
For with what in view would the god himself say that Marcellus, the man who was three times consul, would perish at sea? This indeed was true from all eternity, but it had no causes to bring it about. And so he held that not even past things, of which no signs survived as traces, were known to Apollo; how much less the future! For only when the efficient causes of each thing are known can it at last be known what is going to be. Therefore Apollo could not foretell of Oedipus, either, since no causes had been set down in the nature of things why it should be necessary for his father to be killed by him, nor anything of the kind. And so, if it is consistent for the Stoics, who say that all things come to be by fate, to endorse oracles of this sort and the rest of what is drawn from divination, while the same need not be said by those who say that the things which are future are true from all eternity—consider whether their case may not be the same as the Stoics’; for these men are pressed more narrowly, while the others’ reasoning is loose and free.
Quid enim spectans deus ipse diceret Marcellum eum, qui ter consul fuit, in mari esse periturum? Erat hoc quidem verum ex aeternitate, sed causas id efficientis non habebat. Ita ne praeterita quidem ea, quorum nulla signa tamquam vestigia extarent, Apollini nota esse censebat; quo minus futura! causis enim efficientibus quamque rem cognitis posse denique sciri, quid futurum esset. Ergo nec de Oedipode potuisse Apollinem praedicere nullis in rerum natura causis praepositis, cur ab eo patrem interfici necesse esset, nec quicquam eius modi. Quocirca, si Stoicis, qui omnia fato fieri dicunt, consentaneum est huius modi oracla ceteraque, quae a divinatione ducuntur, conprobare, iis autem, qui, quae futura sunt, ea vera esse ex aeternitate dicunt, non idem dicendum est, vide, ne non eadem sit illorum causa et Stoicorum; hi enim urguentur angustius, illorum ratio soluta ac libera est.
But suppose it is granted that nothing can come to pass except by an antecedent cause—what is gained, if that cause is not said to hang upon eternal causes? Now a cause is that which brings about the thing of which it is the cause, as a wound brings death, indigestion an illness, fire heat. And so a cause is not to be understood in such a way that whatever precedes a thing is its cause, but that which efficiently precedes it; nor was my going down into the field the cause of my playing ball, nor was Hecuba the cause of destruction to the Trojans because she bore Alexander, nor Tyndareus the cause to Agamemnon because he begot Clytemnestra. For at this rate the well-dressed traveler too will be called the cause to the highwayman of his being robbed by him.
Quodsi concedatur nihil posse evenire nisi causa antecedente, quid proficiatur, si ea causa non ex aeternis causis apta dicatur? Causa autem ea est, quae id efficit, cuius est causa, ut vulnus mortis, cruditas morbi, ignis ardoris. Itaque non sic causa intellegi debet, ut, quod cuique antecedat, id ei causa sit, sed quod cuique efficienter antecedat, nec, quod in campum descenderim, id fuisse causae, cur pila luderem, nec Hecubam causam interitus fuisse Troianis, quod Alexandrum genuerit, nec Tyndareum Agamemnoni, quod Clytaemnestram. Hoc enim modo viator quoque bene vestitus causa grassatori fuisse dicetur, cur ab eo spoliaretur.
Of this kind is that passage of Ennius: "Would that in the grove of Pelion the fir timbers had not fallen to earth, cut down by axes!" He might have gone higher: "Would that no tree had ever been born on Pelion!"—and higher still: "Would that there were no Mount Pelion at all!"—and in the same way, going back to what came before, one may regress without end. "Nor thence had the ship taken the beginning of its launching." To what end these past things? Because there follows this: "For never would my mistress, straying, have carried her foot from home—Medea, sick at heart, wounded by savage love"—though those things did not bring on the cause of her love.
Ex hoc genere illud est Ennii: Utinám ne in nemore Pélio secúribus Caesae áccidissent ábiegnae ad terrám trabes! Licuit vel altius: Utinam ne in Pelio nata ulla umquam esset arbor! etiam supra: Utinam ne esset mons ullus Pelius! similiterque superiora repetentem regredi infinite licet. Neve índe navis ínchoandi exórdium Coepísset. Quorsum haec praeterita? Quia sequitur illud: Nam númquam era errans méa domo ecferrét pedem, Medéa, animo aegra, amóre saevo saúcia, †non ut eae res causam adferrent amoris.
They say it makes a difference, however, whether a thing is of the kind without which something cannot be brought about, or of the kind with which something must necessarily be brought about. None of these, then, is a cause, since none brings about by its own force the thing of which it is called the cause; nor is that without which something does not come to be a cause, but that which, when it has been added, necessarily brings about the thing of which it is the cause. For while the bite of the serpent had not yet festered upon Philoctetes, what cause was contained in the nature of things that he would be left behind on the island of Lemnos? Afterward, though, the cause was nearer and more closely joined to the outcome.
Interesse autem aiunt, utrum eius modi quid sit, sine quo effici aliquid non possit, an eius modi, cum quo effici aliquid necesse sit. Nulla igitur earum est causa, quoniam nulla eam rem sua vi efficit, cuius causa dicitur; nec id, sine quo quippiam non fit, causa est, sed id, quod cum accessit, id, cuius est causa, efficit necessario. Nondum enim ulcerato serpentis morsu Philocteta quae causa in rerum natura continebatur, fore ut is in insula Lemno linqueretur? post autem causa fuit propior et cum exitu iunctior.
It is the outcome, then, that lays bare the cause. But from all eternity this proposition was true: "Philoctetes will be left on the island," and it could not turn from true into false. For of two contrary statements—and by contraries here I mean those of which one affirms something and the other denies it—of these, then, in spite of Epicurus, one must be true and the other false. "Philoctetes will be wounded" was true through all the ages before; "He will not be wounded" was false. Unless, perhaps, we choose to follow the opinion of the Epicureans, who say that such propositions are neither true nor false, or—when they are ashamed of that—say something still more shameless: that disjunctions made of contraries are true, but that of the statements contained in them neither is true.
Ratio igitur eventus aperit causam. Sed ex aeternitate vera fuit haec enuntiatio: Relinquetur in insula Philoctetes, nec hoc ex vero in falsum poterat convertere. Necesse est enim in rebus contrariis duabus (contraria autem hoc loco ea dico, quorum alterum ait quid, alterum negat), ex iis igitur necesse est invito Epicuro alterum verum esse, alterum falsum, ut Sauciabitur Philocteta omnibus ante saeculis verum fuit, Non sauciabitur falsum; nisi forte volumus Epicureorum opinionem sequi, qui tales enuntiationes nec veras nec falsas esse dicunt aut, cum id pudet, illud tamen dicunt, quod est inpudentius, veras esse ex contrariis diiunctiones, sed, quae in his enuntiata essent, eorum neutrum esse verum.
What an astonishing license, and what a pitiable ignorance of reasoning! For if anything that is uttered is neither true nor false, then surely it is not true; and what is not true, how can it fail to be false? Or what is not false, how can it fail to be true? So the position Chrysippus defends will hold—that every proposition is either true or false. Reason itself will force the admission both that certain things are true from all eternity, and that these are not bound up with eternal causes, and are free from the necessity of fate.
O admirabilem licentiam et miserabilem inscientiam disserendi! Si enim aliquid in eloquendo nec verum nec falsum est, certe id verum non est; quod autem verum non est, qui potest non falsum esse? aut, quod falsum non est, qui potest non verum esse? tenebitur igitur id, quod a Chrysippo defenditur, omnem enuntiationem aut veram aut falsam esse; ratio ipsa coget et ex aeternitate quaedam esse vera, et ea non esse nexa causis aeternis et a fati necessitate esse libera.
To me, at any rate, it seems that, since there had been two opinions among the older philosophers—one held by those who judged that all things come about by fate in such a way that this fate carries the force of necessity, an opinion in which Democritus, Heraclitus, Empedocles, and Aristotle stood; the other held by those to whom the voluntary motions of the mind seemed to be without any fate—Chrysippus, like an honorary arbiter, wished to strike a middle course, but attaches himself rather to those who would have the motions of the mind set free from necessity; yet while he uses his own terms, he slides into such difficulties that, against his will, he ends by confirming the necessity of fate.
Ac mihi quidem videtur, cum duae sententiae fuissent veterum philosophorum, una eorum, qui censerent omnia ita fato fieri, ut id fatum vim necessitatis adferret, in qua sententia Democritus, Heraclitus, Empedocles, Aristoteles fuit, altera eorum, quibus viderentur sine ullo fato esse animorum motus voluntarii, Chrysippus tamquam arbiter honorarius medium ferire voluisse, sed adplicat se ad eos potius, qui necessitate motus animorum liberatos volunt; dum autem verbis utitur suis, delabitur in eas difficultates, ut necessitatem fati confirmet invitus.
And let us see, if you please, what this comes to in the case of assent, which I treated in my first discourse. For those ancient thinkers, to whom all things seemed to come about by fate, said that assent is brought about by force and by necessity. But those who dissented from them set assent free from fate, and denied that, once fate was applied to assent, necessity could be removed from it; and they argued in this way: If all things come about by fate, all things come about by an antecedent cause; and if appetite does, then the things that follow upon appetite do as well, and therefore so do acts of assent; but if the cause of appetite is not seated in us, then appetite itself is not in our power either; and if this is so, then neither are the things that are brought about by appetite seated in us; therefore neither acts of assent nor actions are in our power. From which it follows that neither praises are just, nor blames, nor honors, nor punishments. Since this is wrong, they think it can be plausibly concluded that not all things come about by fate, whatever comes about.
Atque hoc, si placet, quale sit videamus in adsensionibus, quas prima oratione tractavi. Eas enim veteres illi, quibus omnia fato fieri videbantur, vi effici et necessitate dicebant. Qui autem ab iis dissentiebant, fato adsensiones liberabant negabantque fato adsensionibus adhibito necessitatem ab his posse removeri, iique ita disserebant: Si omnia fato fiunt, omnia fiunt causa antecedente, et, si adpetitus, illa etiam, quae adpetitum sequuntur, ergo etiam adsensiones; at, si causa adpetitus non est sita in nobis, ne ipse quidem adpetitus est in nostra potestate; quod si ita est, ne illa quidem, quae adpetitu efficiuntur, sunt sita in nobis; non sunt igitur neque adsensiones neque actiones in nostra potestate. Ex quo efficitur, ut nec laudationes iustae sint nec vituperationes nec honores nec supplicia. Quod cum vitiosum sit, probabiliter concludi putant non omnia fato fieri, quaecumque fiant.
Chrysippus, however, since he both rejected necessity and yet would have nothing come about without preceding causes, distinguishes between kinds of causes, so as both to escape necessity and to keep fate. "For of causes," he says, "some are perfect and principal, others are auxiliary and proximate. For which reason, when we say that all things come about by fate through antecedent causes, we do not wish it understood thus: by perfect and principal causes, but by auxiliary and proximate antecedent causes." And so he meets the argument I concluded a little earlier in this way: that, if all things come about by fate, it follows indeed that all things come about by causes set before them, yet not by principal and perfect causes, but by auxiliary and proximate ones. And if these themselves are not in our power, it does not follow that appetite too is not in our power. But this would follow, if we said that all things come about by perfect and principal causes, so that, since those causes were not in our power, appetite would not be in our power either.
Chrysippus autem cum et necessitatem inprobaret et nihil vellet sine praepositis causis evenire, causarum genera distinguit, ut et necessitatem effugiat et retineat fatum. Causarum enim, inquit, aliae sunt perfectae et principales, aliae adiuvantes et proximae. Quam ob rem, cum dicimus omnia fato fieri causis antecedentibus, non hoc intellegi volumus: causis perfectis et principalibus, sed causis adiuvantibus antecedentibus et proximis. Itaque illi rationi, quam paulo ante conclusi, sic occurrit: si omnia fato fiant, sequi illud quidem, ut omnia causis fiant antepositis, verum non principalibus causis et perfectis, sed adiuvantibus et proximis. Quae si ipsae non sunt in nostra potestate, non sequitur, ut ne adpetitus quidem sit in nostra potestate. At hoc sequeretur, si omnia perfectis et principalibus causis fieri diceremus, ut, cum eae causae non essent in nostra potestate, ne ille quidem esset in nostra potestate.
For which reason, against those who so introduce fate that they join necessity to it, that conclusion will hold; but against those who do not call the antecedent causes perfect or principal, it will not hold at all. For as to the saying that acts of assent come about by causes set before them, what this amounts to he thinks is easily explained by him. For although assent cannot come about unless it is stirred by an impression, nevertheless, since that impression has a proximate cause, not a principal one, it has this character (as Chrysippus would have it, as we said a moment ago): not that assent could come about without some force roused from outside—for it is necessary that assent be stirred by an impression—but he comes back to his cylinder and his spinning-top, which cannot begin to move unless they are pushed. But once that has happened, he holds that for the rest the cylinder rolls and the top spins by their own nature.
Quam ob rem, qui ita fatum introducunt, ut necessitatem adiungant, in eos valebit illa conclusio; qui autem causas antecedentis non dicent perfectas neque principalis, in eos nihil valebit. Quod enim dicantur adsensiones fieri causis antepositis, id quale sit, facile a se explicari putat. Nam quamquam adsensio non possit fieri nisi commota viso, tamen, cum id visum proximam causam habeat, non principalem, hanc habet rationem, ut Chrysippus vult, quam dudum diximus, non ut illa quidem fieri possit nulla vi extrinsecus excitata (necesse est enim adsensionem viso commoveri), sed revertitur ad cylindrum et ad turbinem suum, quae moveri incipere nisi pulsa non possunt. Id autem cum accidit, suapte natura, quod superest, et cylindrum volvi et versari turbinem putat.
"As, therefore," he says, "the man who shoved the cylinder gave it the beginning of its motion, but did not give it its capacity to roll, so the impression presented will indeed press its appearance upon the mind and, as it were, stamp it there, but our assent will be in our power, and—just as was said in the case of the cylinder—once pushed from outside, for the rest it will move by its own force and nature." But if anything were brought about without an antecedent cause, it would be false that all things come about by fate; whereas if it is likely that a cause precedes all things, whatever come about, what can be brought forward to show why it must not be admitted that all things come about by fate? Provided only it is understood what the distinction and difference of causes is.
’Ut igitur’, inquit, qui protrusit cylindrum, dedit ei principium motionis, volubilitatem autem non dedit, sic visum obiectum inprimet illud quidem et quasi signabit in animo suam speciem, sed adsensio nostra erit in potestate, eaque, quem ad modum in cylindro dictum est, extrinsecus pulsa, quod reliquum est, suapte vi et natura movebitur. Quodsi aliqua res efficeretur sine causa antecedente, falsum esset omnia fato fieri; sin omnibus, quaecumque fiunt, veri simile est causam antecedere, quid adferri poterit, cur non omnia fato fieri fatendum sit? modo intellegatur, quae sit causarum distinctio ac dissimilitudo.
Since these things have been so explained by Chrysippus, then, if those who deny that acts of assent come about by fate nevertheless grant that they do not come about without an antecedent impression, the case is different; but if they concede that impressions go before, and yet that acts of assent do not come about by fate—because that proximate and contiguous cause does not move the assent—see whether they are not saying the same thing. For Chrysippus, conceding that the proximate and contiguous cause of assent is lodged in the impression, will not concede that that cause is necessary for assenting, so that, if all things come about by fate, all things come about by antecedent and necessary causes; and likewise those who dissent from him, while admitting that acts of assent do not come about without the prior running-on of impressions, will say that, if all things came about by fate in such a way that nothing came about except by the precedence of a cause, it would have to be admitted that all things come about by fate. From which it is easy to understand that, since both sides, once their opinion has been laid open and explained, arrive at the same outcome, they differ in words, not in substance.
Haec cum ita sint a Chrysippo explicata, si illi, qui negant adsensiones fato fieri, †fateantur tamen eas non sine viso antecedente fieri, alia ratio est; sed, si concedunt anteire visa, nec tamen fato fieri adsensiones, quod proxima illa et continens causa non moveat adsensionem, vide, ne idem dicant. Neque enim Chrysippus, concedens adsensionis proximam et continentem causam esse in viso positam, neque eam causam esse ad adsentiendum necessariam concedet, ut, si omnia fato fiant, omnia causis fiant antecedentibus et necessariis; itemque illi, qui ab hoc dissentiunt confitentes non fieri adsensiones sine praecursione visorum, dicent, si omnia fato fierent eius modi, ut nihil fieret nisi praegressione causae, confitendum esse fato fieri omnia; ex quo facile intellectu est, quoniam utrique patefacta atque explicata sententia sua ad eundem exitum veniant, verbis eos, non re dissidere.
And altogether, since this is the distinction—that in certain matters it can truly be said that, when these causes have gone before, it is not in our power that those things should not come about whose causes they were, but that in certain matters, though causes have gone before, it is nevertheless in our power that the thing should come about otherwise—this distinction both sides approve; but the one party judges that, in matters where, when the causes have preceded, it is not in our power that those things should come about otherwise, these come about by fate; whereas the things that are in our power, from these fate is absent.
Omninoque cum haec sit distinctio, ut quibusdam in rebus vere dici possit, cum hae causae antegressae sint, non esse in nostra potestate, quin illa eveniant, quorum causae fuerint, quibusdam autem in rebus causis antegressis in nostra tamen esse potestate, ut illud aliter eveniat, hanc distinctionem utrique adprobant, sed alteri censent, quibus in rebus, cum causae antecesserint, non sit in nostra potestate, ut aliter illa eveniant, eas fato fieri; quae autem in nostra potestate sint, ab iis fatum abesse
In this way the question ought to be argued, and not by seeking aid from atoms that wander and swerve from their path. "The atom swerves," he says. First, why? For they had derived a certain other force of motion from Democritus—the force of impulsion, which he calls a blow—and from you, Epicurus, the force of gravity and weight. What new cause is there in nature, then, to make the atom swerve? Or do the atoms cast lots among themselves, which is to swerve and which is not? Or why do they swerve by the least interval and not by a greater? Or why do they swerve by one least interval, and not by two or three?
Hoc modo hanc causam disceptari oportet, non ab atomis errantibus et de via declinantibus petere praesidium. Declinat, inquit, atomus. Primum cur? aliam enim quandam vim motus habebant a Democrito inpulsionis, quam plagam ille appellat, a te, Epicure, gravitatis et ponderis. Quae ergo nova causa in natura est, quae declinet atomum? aut num sortiuntur inter se, quae declinet, quae non? aut cur minimo declinent intervallo, maiore non? aut cur declinent uno minimo, non declinent duobus aut tribus?
This is to wish, not to argue. For you do not say that the atom is moved from its place and swerves by an impulse from outside, nor that in that void through which the atom is carried there was anything to cause it not to be carried straight on, nor that any change was made in the atom itself, on account of which it should not keep the natural motion of its own weight. And so, though he had brought forward no cause to produce that swerve, he yet thinks he is saying something, when he says what the minds of all men spurn and reject.
Optare hoc quidem est, non disputare. Nam neque extrinsecus inpulsam atomum loco moveri et declinare dicis, neque in illo inani, per quod feratur atomus, quicquam fuisse causae, cur ea non e regione ferretur, nec in ipsa atomo mutationis aliquid factum est, quam ob rem naturalem motum sui ponderis non teneret. Ita cum attulisset nullam causam, quae istam declinationem efficeret, tamen aliquid sibi dicere videtur, cum id dicat, quod omnium mentes aspernentur ac respuant.
Indeed, no one seems to me to confirm more strongly not only fate but even necessity and the compulsion of all things, and to have done away with the voluntary motions of the mind, than this man, who admits he could not have withstood fate in any other way than by taking refuge in these fictitious swerves. For granting that there were atoms—which I can in no way be brought to believe exist—still those swerves would never be explained. For if it is granted to atoms that they are carried by gravity through a necessity of nature, since all weight, with nothing hindering, must of necessity be moved and carried, then this too is of necessity: that they swerve, certain atoms—or, if they like, all of them—by nature...
Nec vero quisquam magis confirmare mihi videtur non modo fatum, verum etiam necessitatem et vim omnium rerum sustulisseque motus animi voluntarios, quam hic, qui aliter obsistere fato fatetur se non potuisse, nisi ad has commenticias declinationes confugisset. Nam, ut essent atomi, quas quidem esse mihi probari nullo modo potest, tamen declinationes istae numquam explicarentur. Nam si atomis, ut gravitate ferantur, tributum est necessitate naturae, quod omne pondus nulla re inpediente moveatur et feratur necesse est, illud quoque necesse est, declinare, quibusdam atomis vel, si volunt, omnibus naturaliter Fragmenta Itaque M. Cicero in libro, quem de fato conscripsit, cum quaestionem istam diceret obscurissimam esse et inplicatissimam, Chrysippum quoque philosophum non expedisse se in ea ait his verbis Chrysippus aestuans laboransque, quonam pacto explicet et fato omnia fieri, et esse aliquid in nobis, intricatur hoc modo. Gel. N. A. 7.2.15 volvitque vices definitio fati secundum Tullium, qui ait: fatum est conexio rerum per aeternitatem se invicem tenens, quae suo ordine et lege variatur, ita tamen, ut ipsa varietas habeat aeternitatem. Serv. ad Vergil. A. 3.376 illi quoque versus Homerici huic sententiae suffragantur, quos Cicero in Latinum vertit: Tales sunt hominum mentes, quali pater ipse Iuppiter auctiferas lustravit lumine terras. Augstin. de civ. dei 5.8 Cicero dicit Hippocratem, nobilissimum medicum, scriptum reliquisse quosdam fratres, cum simul aegrotare coepissent et eorum morbus eodem tempore ingravesceret, eodem levaretur, geminos suspicatum. quos Posidonius Stoicus multum astrologiae deditus eadem constitutione astrorum natos eademque conceptos solebat asserere. ita, quod medicus pertinere credebat ad simillimam temperiem valetudinis, hoc philosophus astrologus ad vim constitutionemque siderum quae fuerat, quo tempore concepti natique sun. Augustin. de civ. dei 5.2 et ne vilior sit testis poeta, accipite adsertore Cicerone, in quo honore fuerit hic piscis apud P. Scipionem Africanum illum et Numantinum. Haec sunt in dialogo de fato verba Ciceronis: Nam cum esset apud se ad Lavernium Scipio unaque Pontius, adlatus est forte Scipioni acupenser, qui admodum raro capitur, sed est piscis, ut ferunt, in primis nobilis. Cum autem Scipio unum et alterum ex iis, qui eum salutatum venerant, invitavisset pluresque etiam invitaturus videretur, in aurem Pontius: Scipio, inquit, ’vide, quid agas; acupenser iste paucorum hominum est.’ Macrobius Saturnalia 3.16.3