Tusculan Disputations
Tusculanae Disputationes
Headnote
Tusculanae Disputationes — the Tusculan Disputations — belongs to the great philosophical year of 45 BC, written at Cicero’s villa near Tusculum in the months after the death of his daughter Tullia, when, shut out of the Forum under Caesar’s dictatorship, he turned the whole force of his mind to giving Rome a philosophy in her own tongue. Dedicated to Marcus Brutus and conceived as a companion to the De Finibus just finished, the work casts five afternoons of argument as a dialogue of a peculiar kind: a friend proposes a thesis — that death is an evil, that pain cannot be borne — and Cicero, in the manner of the schools, takes up the contrary and argues it down. The interlocutors go unnamed, marked in the Latin only by the turn of the speech; the setting is the colonnade and the walks of the villa, the hour the slack of the afternoon when the morning’s declaiming is done.
The five books pose five questions, each the matter of a single day. The first asks whether death is an evil, and answers that it is not, ranging over the nature and the immortality of the soul to free us of the fear of it. The second asks whether pain is the greatest of evils, and teaches the endurance that strips it of its power. The third turns inward, to distress — aegritudo, the grief that gnaws — and undertakes its cure; the fourth completes the account with the rest of the passions, setting out the Stoic anatomy of the soul’s diseases, the genera and species of fear and desire and gladness and grief, and the discipline by which they are torn out at the root. The fifth, the book Brutus loved best, defends the hardest and grandest of the claims of philosophy: that virtue is sufficient of itself for the happy life, that the good man is happy on the rack and the tyrant wretched on his throne.
Throughout, philosophy is conceived as the medicine of the soul — animi medicina — and the work is its dispensary: a course of consolation, written by a man in fresh mourning, made general and raised into doctrine. Cicero argues in the manner of the New Academy, taking up whatever thesis is offered and refuting it without binding himself to a creed, yet in ethics he leans always toward the Stoic dignity of the honestum, the conviction that the honorable is the one thing needful. The books are studded with the poetry he loved — Ennius and Accius, Pacuvius and the Greek tragedians, often turned into Latin verse of his own — and with set pieces that have never lost their hold: the great apostrophe to philosophy with which the fifth book rises, O vitae philosophia dux; the sword of Damocles hung by a single hair above the tyrant’s feast; and the discovery of the lost and overgrown tomb of Archimedes, which Cicero, as quaestor in Sicily, found by its carved sphere and cylinder when the Syracusans themselves had forgotten where it lay. It is at once the most personal and the most consoling of his philosophical works — the record of a mind teaching itself, in grief, that the happy life lies within its own power.
This fifth day, Brutus, will bring the Tusculan discussions to their close — the day on which we argued the very question that you, of all of them, most approve. For I have come to see, both from the book you wrote to me with the greatest care and from many conversations of yours, how thoroughly the view pleases you that virtue is sufficient of itself for the happy life. And though this is hard to prove, on account of fortune’s torments, so various and so many, it is nonetheless the kind of thing at which we must labor, that it may be proved the more readily. For among all the matters that philosophy handles, there is nothing that is spoken of with greater weight or grandeur.
Cum defensionum laboribus senatoriisque muneribus aut omnino aut magna ex parte essem aliquando liberatus, rettuli me, Brute, te hortante maxime ad ea studia, quae retenta animo, remissa temporibus, longo intervallo intermissa revocavi, et cum omnium artium, quae ad rectam vivendi viam pertinerent, ratio et disciplina studio sapientiae, quae philosophia dicitur, contineretur, hoc mihi Latinis litteris inlustrandum putavi, non quia philosophia Graecis et litteris et doctoribus percipi non posset, sed meum semper iudicium fuit omnia nostros aut invenisse per se sapientius quam Graecos aut accepta ab illis fecisse meliora, quae quidem digna statuissent, in quibus elaborarent.
For since this was the cause that drove the first men to apply themselves to the study of philosophy — that, setting all else aside, they devoted themselves wholly to the search for the best condition of life — surely it was in the hope of living happily that they laid out such care and effort upon that study. And if virtue was discovered and brought to perfection by them, and if there is in virtue protection enough for living happily, who is there who would not judge that the work of philosophizing was nobly both undertaken by them and taken up by us? But if virtue, subject to changes various and uncertain, is the handmaid of fortune, and has not strength enough to keep itself secure, then I fear that we ought to lean toward the hope of living happily not so much by confidence in virtue as by the offering of prayers.
Nam mores et instituta vitae resque domesticas ac familiaris nos profecto et melius tuemur et lautius, rem vero publicam nostri maiores certe melioribus temperaverunt et institutis et legibus. quid loquar de re militari? in qua cum virtute nostri multum valuerunt, tum plus etiam disciplina. iam illa, quae natura, non litteris adsecuti sunt, neque cum Graecia neque ulla cum gente sunt conferenda. quae enim tanta gravitas, quae tanta constantia, magnitudo animi, probitas, fides, quae tam excellens in omni genere virtus in ullis fuit, ut sit cum maioribus nostris comparanda?
For my own part, when I consider with myself those reverses by which fortune has so violently exercised me, I begin at times to lose faith in this view, and to dread the weakness and frailty of the human race. For I fear that nature, having given us bodies that are feeble and joined to them diseases beyond cure and pains beyond endurance, may have given us minds as well — minds at once attuned to the pains of the body and, on their own account, entangled in their own anguish and distress.
Doctrina Graecia nos et omni litterarum genere superabat; in quo erat facile vincere non repugnantes. nam cum apud Graecos antiquissimum e doctis genus sit poëtarum, siquidem Homerus fuit et Hesiodus ante Romam conditam, Archilochus regnante Romulo, serius poëticam nos accepimus. annis fere cccccx post Romam conditam Livius fabulam dedit C. Claudio, Caeci filio, M. Tuditano cos. anno ante natum Ennium. qui fuit maior natu quam Plautus et Naevius. sero igitur a nostris poëtae vel cogniti vel recepti. quamquam est in Originibus solitos esse in epulis canere convivas ad tibicinem de clarorum hominum virtutibus; honorem tamen huic generi non fuisse declarat oratio Catonis, in qua obiecit ut probrum M. Nobiliori, quod is in provinciam poëtas duxisset; duxerat autem consul ille in Aetoliam, ut scimus, Ennium. quo minus igitur honoris erat poëtis, eo minora studia fuerunt, nec tamen, si qui magnis ingeniis in eo genere extiterunt,
But here I rebuke myself, because from the softness of others, and perhaps of my own, I form my estimate of virtue’s strength, rather than from virtue itself. For virtue — if indeed there is any such thing as virtue, a doubt your uncle, Brutus, swept away — holds beneath itself all that can befall a man; looking down upon these, it scorns the accidents of mortal life, and, free of all fault, it judges that nothing concerns it but itself. We, on the other hand, magnify by fear every adversity as it comes, and by grief every present trouble, and choose to condemn the nature of things rather than our own error.
non satis Graecorum gloriae responderunt. an censemus, si Fabio, nobilissimo homini, laudi datum esset, quod pingeret, non multos etiam apud nos futuros Polyclitos et Parrhasios fuisse? honos alit artes, omnesque incenduntur ad studia gloria, iacentque ea semper, quae apud quosque improbantur. summam eruditionem Graeci sitam censebant in nervorum vocumque cantibus; igitur et Epaminondas, princeps meo iudicio Graeciae, fidibus praeclare cecinisse dicitur, Themistoclesque aliquot ante annos cum in epulis recusaret lyram, est habitus indoctior. ergo in Graecia musici floruerunt, discebantque id omnes, nec qui nesciebat satis excultus doctrina putabatur.
But the correction of this fault, and of the rest of our vices and sins, must all be sought from philosophy. Into her bosom, from the earliest season of our life, our own will and zeal drove us; and now, in these gravest reverses, tossed by a great tempest, we have fled for refuge to the same harbor from which we set out. O philosophy, guide of life! O searcher-out of virtue and expeller of vices! What, not only could we, but what could the whole life of man have been without you? You gave birth to cities; you called together into the fellowship of life men once scattered; you joined them to one another first by dwellings, then by marriages, then by the sharing of letters and of speech; you were the inventor of laws, you the teacher of morals and of order. To you we flee; from you we ask aid; to you we entrust ourselves — as before in great part, so now wholly and entirely. And one day well spent, by your precepts, is to be preferred to an eternity of wrongdoing.
in summo apud illos honore geometria fuit, itaque nihil mathematicis inlustrius; at nos metiendi ratiocinandique utilitate huius artis terminavimus modum. At contra oratorem celeriter complexi sumus, nec eum primo eruditum, aptum tamen ad dicendum, post autem eruditum. nam Galbam Africanum Laelium doctos fuisse traditum est, studiosum autem eum, qui is aetate anteibat, Catonem, post vero Lepidum Carbonem Gracchos, inde ita magnos nostram ad aetatem, ut non multum aut nihil omnino Graecis cederetur. Philosophia iacuit usque ad hanc aetatem nec ullum habuit lumen litterarum Latinarum; quae inlustranda et excitanda nobis est, ut, si occupati profuimus aliquid civibus nostris, prosimus etiam, si possumus, otiosi.
Whose resources, then, should we use rather than yours — you who have lavished tranquillity of life upon us and taken away the terror of death? And yet philosophy, so far from being praised in proportion to what she has deserved of the life of man, is by most men neglected and by many even reviled. Does anyone dare to revile the parent of life, and to stain himself with this parricide, and to be so impiously ungrateful as to accuse her whom he ought to revere, even if he could not grasp her? But this error, I think, and this darkness spread over the minds of the unlearned, comes of their being unable to look so far back, and of their not believing that the men by whom the life of man was first set in order were philosophers.
in quo eo magis nobis est elaborandum, quod multi iam esse libri Latini dicuntur scripti inconsiderate ab optimis illis quidem viris, sed non satis eruditis. fieri autem potest, ut recte quis sentiat et id quod sentit polite eloqui non possit; sed mandare quemquam litteris cogitationes suas, qui eas nec disponere nec inlustrare possit nec delectatione aliqua allicere lectorem, hominis est intemperanter abutentis et otio et litteris. itaque suos libros ipsi legunt cum suis, nec quisquam attingit praeter eos, qui eandem licentiam scribendi sibi permitti volunt. quare si aliquid oratoriae laudis nostra attulimus industria, multo studiosius philosophiae fontis aperiemus, e quibus etiam illa manabant.
Though we see the thing itself to be most ancient, we confess all the same that the name is recent. For wisdom itself — who can deny that it is ancient, not only in fact but even in name? It is the name that won, among the ancients, this most beautiful title by its knowledge of things divine and human, and of the beginnings and causes of each thing. And so those seven who by the Greeks were called sophoi, and by our people were both held and named the wise; and many ages before them Lycurgus, in whose time Homer too is recorded to have lived, before this city was founded; and as far back as the age of heroes, Ulysses and Nestor — these, we are told, both were and were held to be wise.
Sed ut Aristoteles, vir summo ingenio, scientia, copia, cum motus esset Isocratis rhetoris gloria, dicere docere etiam coepit adulescentes et prudentiam cum eloquentia iungere, sic nobis placet nec pristinum dicendi studium deponere et in hac maiore et uberiore arte versari. hanc enim perfectam philosophiam semper iudicavi, quae de maximis quaestionibus copiose posset ornateque dicere; in quam exercitationem ita nos studiose operam dedimus, ut iam etiam scholas Graecorum more habere auderemus. ut nuper tuum post discessum in Tusculano cum essent complures mecum familiares, temptavi, quid in eo genere possem. ut enim antea declamitabam causas, quod nemo me diutius fecit, sic haec mihi nunc senilis est declamatio. ponere iubebam, de quo quis audire vellet; ad id aut sedens aut ambulans disputabam.
Nor would Atlas have been said to bear up the sky, nor Prometheus to be fastened to the Caucasus, nor Cepheus set among the stars with his wife, his son-in-law, and his daughter, had not their divine knowledge of the heavens carried over their names into the error of fable. From these, in succession, all who set their zeal upon the contemplation of things were both held and named the wise; and that name of theirs ran on down to the age of Pythagoras. He, as Heraclides of Pontus writes — a pupil of Plato, and a man of the first rank in learning — is said to have come to Phlius, and there to have discoursed on certain matters with Leon, the chief man of the Phliasians, learnedly and at length. And when Leon, marvelling at his genius and eloquence, asked him in what art above all he placed his confidence, Pythagoras replied that he knew no art at all, but was a philosopher. Leon, struck by the novelty of the word, asked who these philosophers might be, and what was the difference between them and the rest of mankind;
itaque dierum quinque scholas, ut Graeci appellant, in totidem libros contuli. fiebat autem ita ut, cum is qui audire vellet dixisset, quid sibi videretur, tum ego contra dicerem. haec est enim, ut scis, vetus et Socratica ratio contra alterius opinionem disserendi. nam ita facillime, quid veri simillimum esset, inveniri posse Socrates arbitrabatur. Sed quo commodius disputationes nostrae explicentur, sic eas exponam, quasi agatur res, non quasi narretur. ergo ita nascetur exordium: Malum mihi videtur esse mors.
and Pythagoras answered that the life of man seemed to him like that festival which was held with the most splendid display of games and the gathering of all Greece. For there, just as some men sought glory and the renown of a crown by training their bodies, while others were drawn by the profit and gain of buying and selling, but there was a certain kind of men — and this the most freeborn of all — who sought neither applause nor profit, but came for the sake of seeing, and looked on closely at what was being done, and in what manner: so too we, as if we had set out from some city to a kind of crowded festival, had come into this life from another life and nature; and some of us are slaves to glory, some to money, while there are a rare few who, holding all else as nothing, study closely the nature of things. These men, Pythagoras said, he called students of wisdom — that is, philosophers; and just as there it was most worthy of a free man to look on, acquiring nothing for himself, so in life the contemplation and knowledge of things far surpasses all other pursuits.
Isne, qui mortui sunt, an is, quibus moriendum est? Utrisque. Est miserum igitur, quoniam malum. Certe. Ergo et i, quibus evenit iam ut morerentur, et i, quibus eventurum est, miseri. Mihi ita videtur. Nemo ergo non miser. Prorsus nemo. Et quidem, si tibi constare vis, omnes, quicumque nati sunt eruntve, non solum miseri, sed etiam semper miseri. nam si solos eos diceres miseros quibus moriendum esset, neminem tu quidem eorum qui viverent exciperes—moriendum est enim omnibus—, esset tamen miseriae finis in morte. quoniam autem etiam mortui miseri sunt, in miseriam nascimur sempiternam. necesse est enim miseros esse eos qui centum milibus annorum ante occiderunt, vel potius omnis, quicumque nati sunt. Ita prorsus existimo. Dic quaeso:
Nor indeed was Pythagoras only the inventor of the name, but an enlarger as well of the things themselves. After this conversation at Phlius he came into Italy, and adorned that Greece which has been called Great, both in private and in public, with the most excellent institutions and arts. Of his teaching there may, perhaps, be another time for speaking. But from the ancient philosophy down to Socrates — who had listened to Archelaus, the pupil of Anaxagoras — it was numbers and motions that were handled, and the question whence all things arise and into what they fall back; and those men inquired zealously into the magnitudes of the stars, their intervals and courses, and all things of the heavens. Socrates, however, was the first to call philosophy down from the sky, to set it in cities, to bring it even into homes, and to compel it to inquire about life and morals, about things good and evil.
num te illa terrent, triceps apud inferos Cerberus, Cocyti fremitus, travectio Acherontis, mento summam aquam attingens enectus siti Tantalus? tum illud, quod Sisyphus versat saxum sudans nitendo neque proficit hilum? fortasse etiam inexorabiles iudices, Minos et Rhadamanthus? apud quos nec te L. Crassus defendet nec M. Antonius nec, quoniam apud Graecos iudices res agetur, poteris adhibere Demosthenen; tibi ipsi pro te erit maxima corona causa dicenda. haec fortasse metuis et idcirco mortem censes esse sempiternum malum. Adeone me delirare censes, ut ista esse credam? An tu haec non credis? Minime vero. Male hercule narras. Cur? quaeso. Quia disertus esse possem, si contra ista dicerem. Quis enim non in eius modi causa? aut quid negotii est haec poëtarum et pictorum portenta convincere?
His many-sided manner of arguing, the variety of his subjects, and the greatness of his genius, consecrated in the memory and writings of Plato, brought into being several kinds of dissenting philosophers; and of these we ourselves have followed above all the one which we judged Socrates to have used: that we should conceal our own opinion, free others from error, and in every discussion seek out what was most like the truth. This method, since Carneades held to it most acutely and most copiously, I have often elsewhere, and lately at Tusculum, made it my practice to argue after that fashion. And the discourse of the four days I have already sent you, written out in the earlier books; but on the fifth day, when we had taken our seats in the same place, this was set down as the matter we should argue:
Atqui pleni libri sunt contra ista ipsa disserentium philosophorum. Inepte sane. quis enim est tam excors, quem ista moveant? Si ergo apud inferos miseri non sunt, ne sunt quidem apud inferos ulli. Ita prorsus existimo. Ubi sunt ergo i, quos miseros dicis, aut quem locum incolunt? si enim sunt, nusquam esse non possunt. Ego vero nusquam esse illos puto. Igitur ne esse quidem? Prorsus isto modo, et tamen miseros ob id ipsum quidem, quia nulli sint.
— It does not seem to me that virtue can be sufficient for the happy life. — But it does, by Hercules, seem so to my friend Brutus, whose judgment, with your leave I shall say it, I rank far above yours. — I do not doubt it; nor is the question now how much you love him, but this, what the thing is which I have said seems true to me, and which I want you to argue. — You deny, then, that virtue can be sufficient for the happy life? — I deny it utterly. — What? For living rightly, honorably, laudably — in short, for living well — is there protection enough in virtue? — Certainly there is. — Can you, then, either not call wretched a man who lives badly, or deny that a man you admit lives well lives happily? — Why should I not? For even amid torments one can live rightly, honorably, laudably, and therefore well — provided only you understand what I now mean by "well." For I mean: steadfastly, with weight, wisely, bravely.
Iam mallem Cerberum metueres quam ista tam inconsiderate diceres. Quid tandem? Quem esse negas, eundem esse dicis. ubi est acumen tuum? cum enim miserum esse dicis, tum eum qui non sit dicis esse. Non sum ita hebes, ut istud dicam. Quid dicis igitur? Miserum esse verbi causa M. Crassum, qui illas fortunas morte dimiserit, miserum Cn. Pompeium, qui tanta gloria sit orbatus, omnis denique miseros, qui hac luce careant. Revolveris eodem. sint enim oportet, si miseri sunt; tu autem modo negabas eos esse, qui mortui essent. Si igitur non sunt, nihil possunt esse; ita ne miseri quidem sunt. Non dico fortasse etiam, quod sentio; nam istuc ipsum, non esse, cum fueris, miserrimum puto. Quid?
These things are flung even upon the rack, to which the happy life does not aspire. — What then? Is the happy life, I ask you, the one thing left outside the door and threshold of the prison, when steadfastness, weight, courage, wisdom, and the rest of the virtues are dragged off to the torturer and refuse neither punishment nor pain? — You, if you mean to do anything, must search out something new; these things do not move me in the least — not only because they are commonplace, but much more because, just as certain light wines have no strength in water, so these doctrines of the Stoics please more when tasted than when drunk. So this chorus of virtues, set upon the rack, sets images before our eyes of the most ample dignity, so that the happy life seems likely to press on toward them at a run, and not to suffer them to be deserted by it;
miserius quam omnino numquam fuisse? ita, qui nondum nati sunt, miseri iam sunt, quia non sunt, et nos, si post mortem miseri futuri sumus, miseri fuimus ante quam nati. ego autem non commemini, ante quam sum natus, me miserum; tu si meliore memoria es, velim scire, ecquid de te recordere. Ita iocaris, quasi ego dicam eos miseros, qui nati non sint, et non eos miseros, qui mortui sunt. Esse ergo eos dicis. Immo, quia non sint, cum fuerint, eo miseros esse. Pugnantia te loqui non vides? quid enim tam pugnat, quam non modo miserum, sed omnino quicquam esse, qui non sit? an tu egressus porta Capena cum Calatini Scipionum Serviliorum Metellorum sepulcra vides, miseros putas illos? Quoniam me verbo premis, posthac non ita dicam, miseros esse, sed tantum miseros, ob id ipsum, quia non sint. Non dicis igitur: miser est M. Crassus, sed tantum: miser M. Crassus? Ita plane. Quasi non necesse sit, quicquid isto modo pronunties, id aut esse aut non esse! an tu dialecticis ne imbutus quidem es?
but once you have drawn your mind away from that picture and those images of the virtues to the thing itself and the truth, this is left bare: whether a man can be happy as long as he is being tortured. This, then, is what we must now ask; but do not fear that the virtues will protest and complain that they have been abandoned by the happy life. For if no virtue is without prudence, prudence itself sees this — that not all good men are also happy; and it recalls many things about Marcus Atilius, Quintus Caepio, Manius Aquilius, and the happy life, if it please us to use images rather than the things themselves, prudence itself holds back as it tries to mount the rack, and denies that it has anything in common with pain and torment.
in primis enim hoc traditur: omne pronuntiatum (sic enim mihi in praesentia occurrit ut appellarem a)ci/wma, utar post alio, si invenero melius) —id ergo est pronuntiatum, quod est verum aut falsum. cum igitur dicis: miser M. Crassus, aut hoc dicis: miser est Crassus, ut possit iudicari, verum id falsumne sit, aut nihil dicis omnino. Age, iam concedo non esse miseros, qui mortui sint, quoniam extorsisti, ut faterer, qui omnino non essent, eos ne miseros quidem esse posse. quid? qui vivimus, cum moriendum sit, nonne miseri sumus? quae enim potest in vita esse iucunditas, cum dies et noctes cogitandum sit iam iamque esse moriendum? Ecquid ergo intellegis, quantum mali de humana condicione deieceris?
— I am content to let you proceed in that way, though it is unfair of you to prescribe to me how you would have me argue. But I ask: are we to think that something was accomplished on the earlier days, or nothing? — Accomplished, surely, and a good deal. — And yet, if that is so, this question is already as good as won and brought almost to its conclusion. — How so, pray? — Because turbulent motions and agitations of the mind, roused and carried up by reckless impulse, repelling all reason, leave no part for the happy life. For who can fear death or pain — the one often present, the other always hanging over us — and not be wretched? What, moreover, if the same man, as commonly happens, fears poverty, disgrace, infamy; if he fears weakness, blindness; if, in the end, he fears that which has befallen not single men only but often whole peoples once mighty — slavery?
Quonam modo? Quia, si mors etiam mortuis miserum esset, infinitum quoddam et sempiternum malum haberemus in vita; nunc video calcem, ad quam cum sit decursum, nihil sit praeterea extimescendum. sed tu mihi videris Epicharmi, acuti nec insulsi hominis ut Siculi, sententiam sequi. Quam? non enim novi. Dicam, si potero, Latine. scis enim me Graece loqui in Latino sermone non plus solere quam in Graeco Latine. Et recte quidem. sed quae tandem est Epicharmi ista sententia? E/mori nolo/, sed me esse mo/rtuum nihil ae/stimo. Iam adgnosco Graecum. sed quoniam coëgisti, ut concederem, qui mortui essent, eos miseros non esse, perfice, si potes, ut ne moriendum quidem esse miserum putem.
Can anyone be happy while he fears such things? And what of the man who not only fears them as things to come, but actually bears and endures them when present — add to these exile, mourning, the loss of children — the man who, broken by these blows, is crushed by grief: can he, after all, be anything but utterly wretched? And what of this? The man whom we see inflamed and raging with his lusts, reaching madly after everything with an appetite that nothing can fill, and the more abundantly he drinks in pleasures from every side, the more heavily and burningly he thirsts — would you not be right to call him utterly wretched? And what of the man lifted up by frivolity, exulting in empty joy and capering without cause — is he not all the more wretched the happier he thinks himself? Therefore, just as these men are wretched, so on the other side those are happy whom no fears terrify, whom no griefs eat away, whom no lusts goad, whom no idle exulting joys melt with their enervating pleasures. As the calm of the sea is recognized when not the slightest breath of air stirs the waves, so the soul’s quiet and settled state is discerned when there is no disturbance by which it can be moved. And if there is a man who counts the force of fortune, and everything human that can befall anyone, as bearable — so that neither fear nor anguish can touch him — and if this same man craves nothing, is carried away by no empty pleasure of the soul, what reason is there why he should not be happy?
Iam istuc quidem nihil negotii est, sed ego maiora molior. Quo modo hoc nihil negotii est? aut quae sunt tandem ista maiora? Quia, quoniam post mortem mali nihil est, ne mors quidem est malum, cui proxumum tempus est post mortem, in quo mali nihil esse concedis: ita ne moriendum quidem esse malum est; id est enim perveniendum esse ad id, quod non esse malum confitemur. Uberius ista, quaeso. haec enim spinosiora, prius ut confitear me cogunt quam ut adsentiar. sed quae sunt ea, quae dicis te maiora moliri? Ut doceam, si possim, non modo malum non esse, sed bonum etiam esse mortem. Non postulo id quidem, aveo tamen audire. ut enim non efficias quod vis, tamen, mors ut malum non sit, efficies. sed nihil te interpellabo; continentem orationem audire malo. Quid, si te rogavero aliquid?
And if these things are brought about by virtue, what reason is there why virtue itself, of itself, should not make men happy? — Well, the one cannot be denied: that those who fear nothing, are troubled by nothing, crave nothing, are carried away by no ungoverned joy, are happy; and so I grant you that. But the other is no longer an open question. For it was established in our earlier discussions that the wise man is free of every disturbance of the soul. — Then surely the matter is settled;
nonne respondebis? Superbum id quidem est, sed, nisi quid necesse erit, malo non roges. Geram tibi morem et ea quae vis, ut potero, explicabo, nec tamen quasi Pythius Apollo, certa ut sint et fixa, quae dixero, sed ut homunculus unus e multis probabilia coniectura sequens. ultra enim quo progrediar, quam ut veri similia videam, non habeo; certa dicent i, qui et percipi ea posse dicunt et se sapientis esse profitentur. Tu, ut videtur; nos ad audiendum parati sumus.
for the inquiry seems to have reached its conclusion. — Nearly so, indeed. — And yet that is the way of the mathematicians, not of the philosophers. For when geometers wish to teach something, if anything bearing on the matter belongs among the things they have taught before, they take it as granted and proven, and explain only that about which nothing has been written before; whereas philosophers, whatever subject they have in hand, gather into it everything that bears upon it, even if it has been argued elsewhere. Were it not so, why would a Stoic, if the question were raised whether virtue can suffice for the happy life, say a great deal? It would be enough for him to answer that he had shown before that nothing is good except what is honorable, and that, this being proved, it follows that the happy life is content with virtue; and just as this follows from that, so the other follows from this — that, if the happy life is content with virtue, then, unless a thing is honorable, nothing else is good.
Mors igitur ipsa, quae videtur notissima res esse, quid sit, primum est videndum. sunt enim qui discessum animi a corpore putent esse mortem; sunt qui nullum censeant fieri discessum, sed una animum et corpus occidere, animumque in corpore extingui. qui discedere animum censent, alii statim dissipari, alii diu permanere, alii semper. quid sit porro ipse animus aut ubi aut unde, magna dissensio est. aliis cor ipsum animus videtur, ex quo excordes, vecordes concordesque dicuntur et Nasica ille prudens bis consul Corculum et egregie cordatus homo, catus Aelius Sextus. Empedocles animum esse censet cordi suffusum sanguinem; aliis pars quaedam cerebri visa est animi principatum tenere; aliis nec cor ipsum placet nec cerebri quandam partem esse animum,
But still they do not proceed in that way; for there are separate books both on the honorable and on the highest good, and although it follows from the latter that there is power enough in virtue for living happily, none the less they treat this point separately. For each subject must be handled with its own proper arguments and reminders, a subject so great above all. For do not suppose that any voice more illustrious has been uttered in philosophy, or that any of philosophy’s promises is richer or greater. For what does it profess? Good gods! That it will bring it about, for the man who has obeyed its laws, that he be forever armed against fortune, that he hold within himself every safeguard of living well and happily — that, in short, he be forever happy.
sed alii in corde, alii in cerebro dixerunt animi esse sedem et locum; animum autem alii animam, ut fere nostri— declarat nomen: nam et agere animam et efflare dicimus et animosos et bene animatos et ex animi sententia; ipse autem animus ab anima dictus est—; Zenoni Stoico animus ignis videtur. sed haec quidem quae dixi, cor, cerebrum, animam, ignem volgo, reliqua fere singuli. ut multo ante veteres, proxime autem Aristoxenus, musicus idemque philosophus, ipsius corporis intentionem quandam, velut in cantu et fidibus quae a(rmoni/a dicitur: sic ex corporis totius natura et figura varios motus cieri tamquam in cantu sonos.
But I shall see what it can accomplish; in the meantime I value this very thing greatly, that it makes the promise. For Xerxes, indeed, glutted with all the rewards and gifts of fortune, not content with his cavalry, not with his foot soldiers, not with his multitude of ships, not with his boundless weight of gold, offered a prize to whoever should discover a new pleasure — with which pleasure itself he was not content either, for desire will never find an end; I could wish that we might draw out by a prize someone who would bring us something by which we might believe this more firmly.
hic ab artificio suo non recessit et tamen dixit aliquid, quod ipsum quale esset erat multo ante et dictum et explanatum a Platone. Xenocrates animi figuram et quasi corpus negavit esse ullum, numerum dixit esse, cuius vis, ut iam ante Pythagorae visum erat, in natura maxuma esset. eius doctor Plato triplicem finxit animum, cuius principatum, id est rationem, in capite sicut in arce posuit, et duas partes parere voluit, iram et cupiditatem, quas locis disclusit: iram in pectore, cupiditatem supter praecordia locavit.
— I could wish that too; but I have one small point I would press. For I agree that, of the propositions you have set down, the one follows from the other: that just as, if only what is honorable is good, it follows that the happy life is brought about by virtue, so, if the happy life lies in virtue, nothing is good but virtue. But your friend Brutus, on the authority of Aristo and Antiochus, does not hold this; for he thinks that there is some good besides virtue. — What then?
Dicaearchus autem in eo sermone, quem Corinthi habitum tribus libris exponit, doctorum hominum disputantium primo libro multos loquentes facit; duobus Pherecratem quendam Phthiotam senem, quem ait a Deucalione ortum, disserentem inducit nihil esse omnino animum, et hoc esse nomen totum inane, frustraque animalia et animantis appellari, neque in homine inesse animum vel animam nec in bestia, vimque omnem eam, qua vel agamus quid vel sentiamus, in omnibus corporibus vivis aequabiliter esse fusam nec separabilem a corpore esse, quippe quae nulla sit, nec sit quicquam nisi corpus unum et simplex, ita figuratum ut temperatione naturae vigeat et sentiat.
Do you suppose I shall speak against Brutus? — Just as you see fit; for to set limits beforehand is not my place. — What, then, is consistent with each view, we shall consider elsewhere. For on that matter I had a disagreement both with Antiochus often and with Aristo recently, when as commander I lodged with him at Athens. For it did not seem to me that anyone could be happy while he was in the midst of evils — and the wise man could be in the midst of evils, if there were any evils of the body or of fortune. These things were said — which Antiochus too wrote in several places — that virtue itself, of itself, can bring about the happy life, but not the happiest; further, that most things take their name from the greater part, even if some part should be missing — as strength, as health, as riches, as honor, as glory, which are reckoned by their kind, not by their number; and likewise that the happy life, even if it should be lame in some part, none the less holds its name from the much greater part.
Aristoteles, longe omnibus—Platonem semper excipio—praestans et ingenio et diligentia, cum quattuor nota illa genera principiorum esset complexus, e quibus omnia orerentur, quintam quandam naturam censet esse, e qua sit mens; cogitare enim et providere et discere et docere et invenire aliquid et tam multa alia meminisse, amare odisse, cupere timere, angi laetari, haec et similia eorum in horum quattuor generum inesse nullo putat; quintum genus adhibet vacans nomine et sic ipsum animum e)ndele/xeian appellat novo nomine quasi quandam continuatam motionem et perennem. Nisi quae me forte fugiunt, haec sunt fere de animo sententiae. Democritum enim, magnum illum quidem virum, sed levibus et rotundis corpusculis efficientem animum concursu quodam fortuito, omittamus; nihil est enim apud istos, quod non atomorum turba conficiat.
It is not so necessary now to thresh these matters out, although they seem to me said not very consistently. For both, in the case of the man who is happy, I do not see what he should want in order to be happier — for if there is something he lacks, he is not even happy at all — and, as for their saying that each thing is named and regarded from the greater part, there is a place where this holds in that way; but when they say there are three kinds of evils, and a man is pressed by all the evils of two of those kinds — so that everything in his fortune is adverse, and his body is wholly overwhelmed and worn out with pains — shall we say that this man falls just a little short of the happy life, not to say the happiest?
Harum sententiarum quae vera sit, deus aliqui viderit; quae veri simillima, magna quaestio est. utrum igitur inter has sententias diiudicare malumus an ad propositum redire? Cuperem equidem utrumque, si posset, sed est difficile confundere. quare si, ut ista non disserantur, liberari mortis metu possumus, id agamus; sin id non potest nisi hac quaestione animorum explicata, nunc, si videtur, hoc, illud alias. Quod malle te intellego, id puto esse commodius; efficiet enim ratio ut, quaecumque vera sit earum sententiarum quas exposui, mors aut malum non sit aut sit bonum potius.
This is the very thing that Theophrastus could not maintain. For when he had laid it down that lashings, tortures, torments, the overthrows of one’s country, exiles, the loss of children have great force toward living badly and wretchedly, he did not dare to speak loftily and largely, since he felt humbly and meanly. How well he felt is not the question — consistently, at any rate, beyond doubt. And so it is not my habit to find fault with what follows, when you have granted the premises. But this man, the most elegant and most learned of all philosophers, is not greatly faulted when he says there are three kinds of goods; he is harried, however, by everyone, above all in that book which he wrote on the happy life, in which he argues at length why a man who is tortured, who is racked, cannot be happy. In it he is also thought to say that the happy life does not mount the wheel — that being a certain kind of torture among the Greeks. He nowhere says that at all, in fact, but what he does say comes to the same thing.
nam si cor aut sanguis aut cerebrum est animus, certe, quoniam est corpus, interibit cum reliquo corpore; si anima est, fortasse dissipabitur; si ignis, extinguetur; si est Aristoxeni harmonia, dissolvetur. quid de Dicaearcho dicam, qui nihil omnino animum dicat esse? his sententiis omnibus nihil post mortem pertinere ad quemquam potest; pariter enim cum vita sensus amittitur; non sentientis autem nihil est ullam in partem quod intersit. reliquorum sententiae spem adferunt, si te hoc forte delectat, posse animos, cum e corporibus excesserint, in caelum quasi in domicilium suum pervenire. Me vero delectat, idque primum ita esse velim, deinde, etiamsi non sit, mihi persuaderi tamen velim. Quid tibi ergo opera nostra opus est? num eloquentia Platonem superare possumus? evolve diligenter eius eum librum, qui est de animo: amplius quod desideres nihil erit. Feci mehercule, et quidem saepius; sed nescio quo modo, dum lego, adsentior, cum posui librum et mecum ipse de inmortalitate animorum coepi cogitare, adsensio omnis illa elabitur. Quid?
Can I, then, who have granted that bodily pains are among evils, that the shipwrecks of fortune are among evils, be angry with him for saying that not all good men are happy, when those things which he reckons among evils can fall upon all good men? This same Theophrastus is harried in both the books and the schools of all the philosophers, because in his Callisthenes he praised that maxim: Fortune, not wisdom, rules our life. They say that nothing more spineless was ever uttered by any philosopher. Rightly so, indeed; but I do not see that anything more consistent could have been said. For if there are so many goods in the body, so many outside the body in chance and fortune, is it not consistent that fortune — which is the mistress of all things both external and pertaining to the body — should have more power than counsel?
hoc dasne aut manere animos post mortem aut morte ipsa interire? Do vero. Quid, si maneant? Beatos esse concedo. Sin intereant? Non esse miseros, quoniam ne sint quidem; iam istuc coacti a te paulo ante concessimus. Quo modo igitur aut cur mortem malum tibi videri dicis? quae aut beatos nos efficiet animis manentibus aut non miseros sensu carentis.
Or do we prefer to imitate Epicurus? Who often says many fine things; for how consistently and coherently he speaks with himself does not trouble him. He praises a frugal way of life. The remark of a philosopher, indeed — but only if a Socrates or an Antisthenes said it, not the man who declared pleasure to be the end of goods. He denies that anyone can live pleasantly unless he also lives honorably, wisely, and justly. Nothing weightier, nothing worthier of philosophy — were it not that he refers this very honorable, wise, and just living to pleasure. What is better than: that fortune intrudes but little upon the wise man? But does he say this — he who, after declaring pain to be not only the greatest evil but the only evil, can be overwhelmed in his whole body by the sharpest pains at the very moment when he most boasts against fortune? The same thing Metrodorus put in even better words:
Expone igitur, nisi molestum est, primum, si potes, animos remanere post mortem, tum, si minus id obtinebis —est enim arduum—, docebis carere omni malo mortem. ego enim istuc ipsum vereor ne malum sit non dico carere sensu, sed carendum esse. Auctoribus quidem ad istam sententiam, quam vis obtineri, uti optimis possumus, quod in omnibus causis et debet et solet valere plurimum, et primum quidem omni antiquitate, quae quo propius aberat ab ortu et divina progenie, hoc melius ea fortasse quae erant vera cernebant. Itaque unum illud erat insitum priscis illis, quos cascos appellat Ennius, esse in morte sensum neque excessu vitae sic deleri hominem, ut funditus interiret;
I have forestalled you, he says, Fortune, and laid hold of you, and blocked up all your approaches, so that you cannot reach me. Splendid — if Aristo of Chios or the Stoic Zeno had said it, men who counted nothing evil except what was base; but you, Metrodorus, who lodged every good in the entrails and the marrow, and defined the highest good as bounded by a sound condition of the body and the assured hope of its continuance — you have blocked up the approaches of Fortune? How so? For of that very good you can be stripped at any moment. And yet by such talk the inexperienced are caught, and on account of maxims of this kind the crowd that follows these men is large;
idque cum multis aliis rebus, tum e pontificio iure et e caerimoniis sepulcrorum intellegi licet, quas maxumis ingeniis praediti nec tanta cura coluissent nec violatas tam inexpiabili religione sanxissent, nisi haereret in eorum mentibus mortem non interitum esse omnia tollentem atque delentem, sed quandam quasi migrationem commutationemque vitae, quae in claris viris et feminis dux in caelum soleret esse, in ceteris humi retineretur et permaneret tamen.
but it is the mark of one who argues acutely to see, not what each man says, but what each man ought to say. As, for instance, in the very position which we have taken up in this discussion, we hold that all good men are always happy. Whom I call good men is plain; for those equipped and adorned with all the virtues we call now wise men, now good men. Let us see who are to be called happy.
ex hoc et nostrorum opinione Romulus in caelo cum diis agit aevum, ut famae adsentiens dixit Ennius, et apud Graecos indeque perlapsus ad nos et usque ad Oceanum Hercules tantus et tam praesens habetur deus; hinc Liber Semela natus eademque famae celebritate Tyndaridae fratres, qui non modo adiutores in proeliis victoriae populi Romani, sed etiam nuntii fuisse perhibentur. quid? Ino Cadmi filia nonne *leukoqe/a nominata a Graecis Matuta habetur a nostris? quid? totum prope caelum, ne pluris persequar, nonne humano genere completum est?
For my part, I judge them to be those who are among goods with no evil joined to them; nor is any other notion attached to this word, when we say "happy," than the full assemblage of goods, with all evils set apart. This virtue cannot attain, if there is any good besides itself. For there will be present a certain throng of evils, if we count those things evils: poverty, obscurity, low standing, loneliness, the loss of one’s own, grievous bodily pains, ruined health, infirmity, blindness, the destruction of one’s country, exile, slavery at the last. Amid these so many and so great evils — and yet more can befall — the wise man can find himself; for these chance brings on, and chance can run upon the wise man. But if these are evils, who can guarantee that the wise man will always be happy, when he may be in the midst of them all at one and the same time?
si vero scrutari vetera et ex is ea quae scriptores Graeciae prodiderunt eruere coner, ipsi illi maiorum gentium dii qui habentur hinc nobis profecti in caelum reperientur. quaere, quorum demonstrentur sepulcra in Graecia; reminiscere, quoniam es initiatus, quae tradantur mysteriis: tum denique, quam hoc late pateat, intelleges. sed qui nondum ea quae multis post annis homines tractare coepissent physica didicissent, tantum sibi persuaserant, quantum natura admonente cognoverant, rationes et causas rerum non tenebant, visis quibusdam saepe movebantur, isque maxime nocturnis, ut viderentur ei, qui vita excesserant, vivere.
I do not, then, easily grant — neither to my own Brutus, nor to our common masters, nor to those ancients, Aristotle, Speusippus, Xenocrates, Polemo — that, while they count among evils the things I enumerated above, they should yet say that the wise man is always happy. If this distinction delights them, splendid and beautiful and most worthy of Pythagoras, Socrates, and Plato, let them bring their minds to despise those things by whose splendor they are caught — strength, health, beauty, riches, honors, resources — and to count as nothing the things contrary to these: then they will be able to declare with the clearest voice that they are terrified neither by the onset of fortune, nor by the opinion of the crowd, nor by pain, nor by poverty, and that everything for them is lodged within themselves, and that there is nothing outside their own power which they reckon among goods.
Ut porro firmissimum hoc adferri videtur cur deos esse credamus, quod nulla gens tam fera, nemo omnium tam sit inmanis, cuius mentem non imbuerit deorum opinio (multi de diis prava sentiunt—id enim vitioso more effici solet—, omnes tamen esse vim et naturam divinam arbitrantur, nec vero id conlocutio hominum aut consessus efficit, non institutis opinio est confirmata, non legibus; omni autem in re consensio omnium gentium lex naturae putanda est )—quis est igitur, qui suorum mortem primum non eo lugeat, quod eos orbatos vitae commodis arbitretur? tolle hanc opinionem, luctum sustuleris. nemo enim maeret suo incommodo: dolent fortasse et anguntur, sed illa lugubris lamentatio fletusque maerens ex eo est, quod eum, quem dileximus, vitae commodis privatum arbitramur idque sentire. atque haec ita sentimus natura duce, nulla ratione nullaque doctrina. Maxumum vero argumentum est naturam ipsam de inmortalitate animorum tacitam iudicare, quod omnibus curae sunt, et maxumae quidem, quae post mortem futura sint. serit arbores, quae alteri saeclo prosint, ut ait Statius in Synephebis, quid spectans nisi etiam postera saecula ad se pertinere? ergo arbores seret diligens agricola, quarum aspiciet bacam ipse numquam; vir magnus leges instituta rem publicam non seret? quid procreatio liberorum, quid propagatio nominis, quid adoptationes filiorum, quid testamentorum diligentia, quid ipsa sepulcrorum monumenta elogia significant nisi nos futura etiam cogitare? Quid?
You bring me to agree with you. But see that your own consistency, too, is not found wanting. — How so? — Because I lately read your fourth book on the ends of good and evil; in it you seemed to me, in arguing against Cato, to wish to show this — which for my part I do approve — that between Zeno and the Peripatetics there is nothing at issue but a novelty of terms. And if that is so, what reason is there why, if it is consistent with Zeno’s account that there should be force enough in virtue for living happily, the same should not be open to the Peripatetics to say? For the matter, I think, is what ought to be looked at, not the words.
illud num dubitas, quin specimen naturae capi deceat ex optima quaque natura? quae est melior igitur in hominum genere natura quam eorum, qui se natos ad homines iuvandos tutandos conservandos arbitrantur? abiit ad deos Hercules: numquam abisset, nisi, cum inter homines esset, eam sibi viam munivisset. vetera iam ista et religione omnium consecrata: quid in hac re p. tot tantosque viros ob rem p. interfectos cogitasse arbitramur? isdemne ut finibus nomen suum quibus vita terminaretur? nemo umquam sine magna spe inmortalitatis se pro patria offerret ad mortem.
You deal with me by sealed documents, calling to witness what I once said or wrote. Do that with others, who debate under imposed rules; we live from day to day. Whatever has struck our minds with probability, that we say; and so we alone are free. Yet since we spoke a little earlier about consistency, I do not think the question to be asked here is whether it is true — what was Zeno’s view, and his pupil Aristo’s, that the only good is the honorable — but whether, if it were so, it would then be consistent to rest this whole business of living happily in virtue alone.
licuit esse otioso Themistocli, licuit Epaminondae, licuit, ne et vetera et externa quaeram, mihi; sed nescio quo modo inhaeret in mentibus quasi saeclorum quoddam augurium futurorum, idque in maximis ingeniis altissimisque animis et existit maxime et apparet facillime. quo quidem dempto quis tam esset amens, qui semper in laboribus et periculis viveret?
So let us grant Brutus this much, by all means — that the wise man is always happy. How far this is consistent with himself, let him see to it; as for the glory of this opinion, who is worthier of it than that man? Yet let us hold to our point: that he is also supremely happy. And though Zeno of Citium, a kind of newcomer and obscure artificer of words, seems to have insinuated himself into the ancient philosophy, the weight of this opinion may be traced back to the authority of Plato, in whom this manner of speaking is often employed — that nothing is called good except virtue. So in the Gorgias Socrates, when he had been asked whether he did not think Archelaus the son of Perdiccas, who was then held the most fortunate of men, a happy man, replied, "I do not know;
loquor de principibus; quid? poëtae nonne post mortem nobilitari volunt? unde ergo illud: Aspicite, o cives, senis Enni imaginis formam: Hic vestrum panxit maxima facta patrum? mercedem gloriae flagitat ab is quorum patres adfecerat gloria, idemque: Nemo me lacrimis Cur? volito vivos per ora virum. sed quid poëtas? opifices post mortem nobilitari volunt. quid enim Phidias sui similem speciem inclusit in clupeo Minervae, cum inscribere nomen non liceret? quid? nostri philosophi nonne in is libris ipsis, quos scribunt de contemnenda gloria, sua nomina inscribunt?
for I have never talked with him." — Is that so? Can you not know it any other way? — In no way. — Then you cannot say even of the great king of the Persians whether he is happy? — How could I, when I do not know how learned he is, how good a man? — What? Do you think the happy life consists in that? — Just so, entirely; I judge the good to be happy, the wicked wretched. — Archelaus, then, is wretched? — Certainly, if he is unjust.
Quodsi omnium consensus naturae vox est, omnesque qui ubique sunt consentiunt esse aliquid, quod ad eos pertineat qui vita cesserint, nobis quoque idem existimandum est, et si, quorum aut ingenio aut virtute animus excellit, eos arbitrabimur, quia natura optima sint, cernere naturae vim maxume, veri simile est, cum optumus quisque maxume posteritati serviat, esse aliquid, cuius is post mortem sensum sit habiturus.
Does he not seem here to rest the whole happy life in virtue alone? And what of this — how does the same man speak in the funeral oration? "For the man to whom all things that bear on living happily depend on himself, and are not left hanging on the good or ill chance of others, nor forced to drift with another’s fortunes — for him the way of living best has been provided. He it is who is moderate, he who is brave, he who is wise; he it is who, when goods come and when they go — children above all, with the rest of his comforts — will yield and obey that old precept: for he will never rejoice too much nor grieve too much, because he sets all his hope of himself always in himself." From Plato, then, as from a kind of holy and august spring, all our discourse will flow. From where, then, can we more rightly begin than from our common parent, nature?
Sed ut deos esse natura opinamur, qualesque sint, ratione cognoscimus, sic permanere animos arbitramur consensu nationum omnium, qua in sede maneant qualesque sint, ratione discendum est. cuius ignoratio finxit inferos easque formidines, quas tu contemnere non sine causa videbare. in terram enim cadentibus corporibus isque humo tectis, e quo dictum est humari, sub terra censebant reliquam vitam agi mortuorum; quam eorum opinionem magni errores consecuti sunt, quos auxerunt poëtae.
Nature willed that whatever she has brought forth — not only the animal, but also that which has so sprung from the earth as to be held up by its own roots — should be perfect, each thing in its own kind. And so trees and vines, and the lowlier things that cannot lift themselves higher from the ground — some are forever green, others, stripped bare in winter, put out leaves when the spring has warmed them; and there is nothing that does not so thrive, by a certain inner motion and by the seeds shut up in each, that it pours forth either flowers or fruits or berries; and all things, in all things, so far as lies in them, are perfect when no force stands in the way.
frequens enim consessus theatri, in quo sunt mulierculae et pueri, movetur audiens tam grande carmen: A/dsum atque advenio A/cherunte vi/x via alta atque a/rdua Pe/r speluncas sa/xis structas a/speris pende/ntibus Ma/xumis, ubi ri/gida constat cra/ssa caligo i/nferum, tantumque valuit error—qui mihi quidem iam sublatus videtur—, ut, corpora cremata cum scirent, tamen ea fieri apud inferos fingerent, quae sine corporibus nec fieri possent nec intellegi. animos enim per se ipsos viventis non poterant mente complecti, formam aliquam figuramque quaerebant. inde Homeri tota ne/kuia, inde ea quae meus amicus Appius nekuomantei=a faciebat, inde in vicinia nostra Averni lacus, u/nde animae excita/ntur obscura u/mbra opertae, ima/gines mo/rtuorum, alto o/stio Acheru/ntis, salso sa/nguine. has tamen imagines loqui volunt, quod fieri nec sine lingua nec sine palato nec sine faucium laterum pulmonum vi et figura potest. nihil enim animo videre poterant, ad oculos omnia referebant.
But the force of nature herself can be discerned even more easily in the beasts, because to them sense has been given by nature. For some beasts nature willed to be swimmers and dwellers in the waters; others, winged, to enjoy the free sky; some to be crawlers, some walkers; and of these themselves, some to range alone, some to gather in herds; some to be savage, others tame; some to be hidden away and covered by the earth. And each of them, keeping to its own office, since it cannot cross over into the life of an unlike creature, abides in the law of nature. And just as to the beasts something distinct was given to each by nature, which each retains as its own and does not depart from, so to man something far more excellent was given — though only those things ought to be called excellent that admit of some comparison. The human mind, plucked from the divine intelligence, can be compared with nothing else but God himself, if it is right to say so.
Magni autem est ingenii sevocare mentem a sensibus et cogitationem ab consuetudine abducere. itaque credo equidem etiam alios tot saeculis, sed quod litteris exstet, Pherecydes Syrius primus dixit animos esse hominum sempiternos, antiquus sane; fuit enim meo regnante gentili. hanc opinionem discipulus eius Pythagoras maxime confirmavit, qui cum Superbo regnante in Italiam venisset, tenuit Magnam illam Graeciam cum honore disciplina, tum etiam auctoritate, multaque saecula postea sic viguit Pythagoreorum nomen, ut nulli alii docti viderentur. sed redeo ad antiquos. rationem illi sententiae suae non fere reddebant, nisi quid erat numeris aut descriptionibus explicandum:
If, then, this mind has been cultivated, and if its keen edge has been so tended that it is not blinded by errors, it becomes perfect intelligence — that is, completed reason — which is the same as virtue. And if everything is happy that lacks nothing, and that is filled out and brought to fullness in its own kind, and if this is the property of virtue, then surely all who possess virtue are happy. And here I agree with Brutus — that is, with Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, Polemo. But to me they seem also supremely happy.
Platonem ferunt, ut Pythagoreos cognosceret, in Italiam venisse et didicisse Pythagorea omnia primumque de animorum aeternitate non solum sensisse idem quod Pythagoram, sed rationem etiam attulisse. quam, nisi quid dicis, praetermittamus et hanc totam spem inmortalitatis relinquamus. An tu cum me in summam exspectationem adduxeris, deseris? errare mehercule malo cum Platone, quem tu quanti facias scio et quem ex tuo ore admiror, quam cum istis vera sentire.
For what is lacking for living happily to the man who trusts in his own goods? Or how can one who distrusts them be happy? And distrust them he must, who divides goods into three kinds. For how will he be able to trust in the firmness of his body or the stability of fortune? Yet without a good that is stable and fixed and lasting, no one can be happy. What, then, of theirs is of that sort? So that the saying of the Laconian seems to me to fall upon these men — who, to a certain merchant boasting that he had sent out many ships to every coast of the sea, said, "That fortune, hung upon ropes, is not greatly to be desired." Is there any doubt that nothing is to be counted among the things by which the happy life is filled out, if it can be lost? For nothing of those things in which the happy life consists ought to wither, nothing to be quenched, nothing to fall away. For whoever fears to lose any of them cannot be happy.
Macte virtute! ego enim ipse cum eodem ipso non invitus erraverim. num igitur dubitamus—? an sicut pleraque? quamquam hoc quidem minime; persuadent enim mathematici terram in medio mundo sitam ad universi caeli complexum quasi puncti instar optinere, quod ke/ntron illi vocant; eam porro naturam esse quattuor omnia gignentium corporum, ut, quasi partita habeant inter se ac divisa momenta, terrena et umida suopte nutu et suo pondere ad paris angulos in terram et in mare ferantur, reliquae duae partes, una ignea altera animalis, ut illae superiores in medium locum mundi gravitate ferantur et pondere, sic hae rursum rectis lineis in caelestem locum subvolent, sive ipsa natura superiora adpetente sive quod a gravioribus leviora natura repellantur. quae cum constent, perspicuum debet esse animos, cum e corpore excesserint, sive illi sint animales, id est spirabiles, sive ignei, sublime ferri.
For we want the man who is happy to be safe, unassailable, fenced about and fortified — not so as to be furnished with some small fear, but with none at all. For just as a man is called blameless not who does slight harm, but who does no harm, so he is to be held free from fear not who fears small things, but who is altogether empty of fear. For what else is courage but a disposition of the mind that endures in facing danger and in toil and pain, and at the same time stands far off from all fear? And these things surely would not be so, unless every good consisted in the honorable alone.
si vero aut numerus quidam sit animus, quod subtiliter magis quam dilucide dicitur, aut quinta illa non nominata magis quam non intellecta natura, multo etiam integriora ac puriora sunt, ut a terra longissime se ecferant. Horum igitur aliquid animus, ne tam vegeta mens aut in corde cerebrove aut in Empedocleo sanguine demersa iaceat. Dicaearchum vero cum Aristoxeno aequali et condiscipulo suo, doctos sane homines, omittamus; quorum alter ne condoluisse quidem umquam videtur, qui animum se habere non sentiat, alter ita delectatur suis cantibus, ut eos etiam ad haec transferre conetur. harmonian autem ex intervallis sonorum nosse possumus, quorum varia compositio etiam harmonias efficit pluris; membrorum vero situs et figura corporis vacans animo quam possit harmoniam efficere, non video. sed hic quidem, quamvis eruditus sit, sicut est, haec magistro concedat Aristoteli, canere ipse doceat; bene enim illo Graecorum proverbio praecipitur: quam quisque norit artem, in hac se exerceat.
And how can anyone possess that most longed-for and sought-after security — by security I now mean freedom from distress, in which the happy life is set — when there is, or can be, a multitude of evils close upon him? How can anyone be lofty and upright, counting all that can befall a man as small — such as we want the wise man to be — unless he reckons that all his goods rest within himself? When Philip threatened the Spartans by letter that he would block everything they attempted, did they not ask whether he would block them even from dying? Will not the man we are seeking be found far more readily with such a spirit than a whole state was found? What more? When to this courage of which we speak temperance is joined — the moderator of all commotions — what can be lacking for living happily to the man whom courage delivers from distress and from fear, while temperance both calls him away from lust and does not let him exult in any insolent excitement? That virtue brings these things about I would show, were they not set out in the earlier days.
illam vero funditus eiciamus individuorum corporum levium et rutundorum concursionem fortuitam, quam tamen Democritus concalefactam et spirabilem, id est animalem, esse volt. is autem animus, qui, si est horum quattuor generum, ex quibus omnia constare dicuntur, ex inflammata anima constat, ut potissimum videri video Panaetio, superiora capessat necesse est. nihil enim habent haec duo genera proni et supera semper petunt. ita, sive dissipantur, procul a terris id evenit, sive permanent et conservant habitum suum, hoc etiam magis necesse est ferantur ad caelum et ab is perrumpatur et dividatur crassus hic et concretus aër, qui est terrae proximus. calidior est enim vel potius ardentior animus quam est hic aër, quem modo dixi crassum atque concretum; quod ex eo sciri potest, quia corpora nostra terreno principiorum genere confecta ardore animi concalescunt.
And since disturbances of the mind make for misery, while their calming makes life happy, and the account of disturbance is twofold — for distress and fear turn upon imagined evils, while exultant gladness and lust turn upon a mistaken view of goods, all of them at war with counsel and reason — when you have seen a man empty of these so weighty agitations, so much at variance and at odds among themselves, and so set loose and free, will you hesitate to call him happy? But the wise man is always so disposed; the wise man, therefore, is always happy. And further: every good is a thing to rejoice in; and what is to be rejoiced in is to be proclaimed and carried before one; and what is of that sort is also a thing of glory; and if of glory, then surely praiseworthy; and what is praiseworthy is assuredly also honorable.
accedit ut eo facilius animus evadat ex hoc aëre, quem saepe iam appello, eumque perrumpat, quod nihil est animo velocius, nulla est celeritas quae possit cum animi celeritate contendere. qui si permanet incorruptus suique similis, necesse est ita feratur, ut penetret et dividat omne caelum hoc, in quo nubes imbres ventique coguntur, quod et umidum et caliginosum est propter exhalationes terrae. Quam regionem cum superavit animus naturamque sui similem contigit et adgnovit, iunctis ex anima tenui et ex ardore solis temperato ignibus insistit et finem altius se ecferendi facit. cum enim sui similem et levitatem et calorem adeptus est, tamquam paribus examinatus ponderibus nullam in partem movetur, eaque ei demum naturalis est sedes, cum ad sui simile penetravit; in quo nulla re egens aletur et sustentabitur isdem rebus, quibus astra sustentantur et aluntur. Cumque corporis facibus inflammari soleamus ad omnis fere cupiditates eoque magis incendi, quod is aemulemur, qui ea habeant quae nos habere cupiamus, profecto beati erimus, cum corporibus relictis et cupiditatum et aemulationum erimus expertes;
What is good, therefore, is honorable. But the things these men reckon among goods, not even they themselves call honorable; the only good, then, is the honorable. From which it follows that the happy life is contained in the honorable alone. Those things, then, are not to be called goods, nor to be held such, in which a man may abound and yet be utterly wretched.
quodque nunc facimus, cum laxati curis sumus, ut spectare aliquid velimus et visere, id multo tum faciemus liberius totosque nos in contemplandis rebus perspiciendisque ponemus, propterea quod et natura inest in mentibus nostris insatiabilis quaedam cupiditas veri videndi et orae ipsae locorum illorum, quo pervenerimus, quo faciliorem nobis cognitionem rerum caelestium, eo maiorem cognoscendi cupiditatem dabant.
Or do you doubt that a man outstanding in health, strength, beauty, with the keenest and soundest senses — add even, if you like, agility and speed, throw in riches, honors, commands, power, glory — if the man who has these be unjust, intemperate, cowardly, of a dull and worthless wit, you would not hesitate to call him wretched? Of what sort, then, are those goods which the man who has them can be utterly wretched? Let us consider whether, just as a heap is made of grains of its own kind, so the happy life ought to be made of parts that resemble itself. And if that is so, it must be made of goods that are honorable alone; if these shall be mixed of unlike things, nothing honorable can be made of them; and once that is taken away, what can be understood as happy? For whatever is good is a thing to be desired; and what is to be desired is surely to be approved; and what you have approved is to be held welcome and acceptable; and so worth must be assigned to it as well. And if that is so, it must of necessity be praiseworthy; every good, then, is praiseworthy. From which it follows that what is honorable is the only good.
haec enim pulchritudo etiam in terris patritam illam et avitam, ut ait Theophrastus, philosophiam cognitionis cupiditate incensam excitavit. praecipue vero fruentur ea, qui tum etiam, cum has terras incolentes circumfusi erant caligine, tamen acie mentis dispicere cupiebant. Etenim si nunc aliquid adsequi se putant, qui ostium Ponti viderunt et eas angustias, per quas penetravit ea quae est nominata Argo/, quia Argivi i/n ea delecti/ viri Vecti/ petebant pe/llem inauratam a/rietis, aut i qui Oceani freta illa viderunt, Europam Libyamque rapax ubi dividit unda, quod tandem spectaculum fore putamus, cum totam terram contueri licebit eiusque cum situm, formam, circumscriptionem, tum et habitabiles regiones et rursum omni cultu propter vim frigoris aut caloris vacantis?
For unless we hold to this firmly, there will be many things that we shall have to call goods. I leave aside riches — which, since anyone, however unworthy, may possess them, I do not count among goods, for what is a good cannot be possessed by just anyone; I leave aside nobility and a fame stirred up by the agreement of fools and rogues: yet these, though they are the least of things, must still be called goods — bright little teeth, charming eyes, a pleasing complexion, and the things that Anticlea praises while washing the feet of Ulysses: the smoothness of his speech, the softness of his body. If we shall reckon these as goods, what will there be in a philosopher’s gravity that can be called either weightier or grander than what is in the opinion of the crowd and the throng of fools?
nos enim ne nunc quidem oculis cernimus ea quae videmus; neque est enim ullus sensus in corpore, sed, ut non physici solum docent verum etiam medici, qui ista aperta et patefacta viderunt, viae quasi quaedam sunt ad oculos, ad auris, ad naris a sede animi perforatae. itaque saepe aut cogitatione aut aliqua vi morbi impediti apertis atque integris et oculis et auribus nec videmus nec audimus, ut facile intellegi possit animum et videre et audire, non eas partis quae quasi fenestrae sint animi, quibus tamen sentire nihil queat mens, nisi id agat et adsit. quid, quod eadem mente res dissimillimas comprendimus, ut colorem, saporem, calorem, odorem, sonum? quae numquam quinque nuntiis animus cognosceret, nisi ad eum omnia referrentur et is omnium iudex solus esset. atque ea profecto tum multo puriora et dilucidiora cernentur, cum, quo natura fert, liber animus pervenerit.
But, you say, the Stoics call these same things "preferred" or "advanced," which your school calls goods. They do call them so, to be sure; but they deny that the happy life is made complete by them — whereas these others think there is no happy life without them, or, if there is, certainly deny it is the happiest. We, however, will have it the happiest, and this is confirmed for us by that Socratic chain of reasoning. For thus did that prince of philosophy argue: as the disposition of each man’s soul is, such is the man; and as the man himself is, such is his speech; and his deeds are like his speech, and his life like his deeds. But the disposition of a good man’s soul is praiseworthy; and so the life of a good man is praiseworthy; and therefore honorable, since praiseworthy. From which it is concluded that the life of good men is happy.
nam nunc quidem, quamquam foramina illa, quae patent ad animum a corpore, callidissimo artificio natura fabricata est, tamen terrenis concretisque corporibus sunt intersaepta quodam modo: cum autem nihil erit praeter animum, nulla res obiecta impediet, quo minus percipiat, quale quidque sit. Quamvis copiose haec diceremus, si res postularet, quam multa, quam varia, quanta spectacula animus in locis caelestibus esset habiturus.
For, by the faith of gods and men! — was it too little established in our earlier discussions, or did we speak merely for delight and to pass the leisure hours, that the wise man is always free from every commotion of soul, which I call a disturbance, and that there is always in his soul the most placid peace? A man, then, who is temperate, steadfast, without fear, without distress, without idle elation, without lust — is he not happy? But the wise man is always such; therefore he is always happy. And further, how can a good man fail to refer to what is praiseworthy everything that he does and everything that he feels? But he refers everything to living happily; therefore the happy life is praiseworthy; and nothing is praiseworthy without virtue: therefore the happy life is brought about by virtue.
quae quidem cogitans soleo saepe mirari non nullorum insolentiam philosophorum, qui naturae cognitionem admirantur eiusque inventori et principi gratias exultantes agunt eumque venerantur ut deum; liberatos enim se per eum dicunt gravissimis dominis, terrore sempiterno et diurno ac nocturno metu. quo terrore? quo metu? quae est anus tam delira quae timeat ista, quae vos videlicet, si physica non didicissetis, timeretis, Acherunsia templa alta Orci, pallida leti, nubila tenebris loca? non pudet philosophum in eo gloriari, quod haec non timeat et quod falsa esse cognoverit? e quo intellegi potest, quam acuti natura sint, quoniam haec sine doctrina credituri fuerunt.
And this too is concluded in the following way: there is nothing to be proclaimed or gloried in either in a wretched life or in one that is neither wretched nor happy. And yet in some life there is something to be proclaimed and gloried in and held up before the world, as in Epaminondas: by our counsels the glory of the Spartans was shorn; or in Africanus: from the rising of the sun above the marshes of Maeotis, there is no man who can match my deeds.
praeclarum autem nescio quid adepti sunt, quod didicerunt se, cum tempus mortis venisset, totos esse perituros. quod ut ita sit —nihil enim pugno—, quid habet ista res aut laetabile aut gloriosum? Nec tamen mihi sane quicquam occurrit, cur non Pythagorae sit et Platonis vera sententia. ut enim rationem Plato nullam adferret —vide, quid homini tribuam—, ipsa auctoritate me frangeret: tot autem rationes attulit, ut velle ceteris, sibi certe persuasisse videatur.
And if this is so, then the happy life is to be gloried in and proclaimed and held up before the world; for there is nothing else that ought to be proclaimed and held up before the world. With these things laid down, you understand what follows. And indeed, unless that life is happy which is also honorable, it follows of necessity that there is something better than the happy life; for whatever shall be honorable, they will certainly admit to be better. So the happy life will be something less than another thing; and what can be said more perverse than that? What of this? When they admit that there is force enough in vices to make a life wretched, must it not be admitted that there is the same force in virtue to make it happy? For of contraries the consequences are contrary.
Sed plurimi contra nituntur animosque quasi capite damnatos morte multant, neque aliud est quicquam cur incredibilis is animorum videatur aeternitas, nisi quod nequeunt qualis animus sit vacans corpore intellegere et cogitatione comprehendere. quasi vero intellegant, qualis sit in ipso corpore, quae conformatio, quae magnitudo, qui locus; ut, si iam possent in homine vivo cerni omnia quae nunc tecta sunt, casurusne in conspectum videatur animus, an tanta sit eius tenuitas, ut fugiat aciem?
At this point I ask what force there is in that balance of Critolaus, who, when he places the goods of the soul in one pan and the goods of the body and external goods in the other, thinks the pan of the soul’s goods weighs down so heavily that it would sink the earth and the seas. What, then, prevents either this man, or that gravest of philosophers Xenocrates, who exalts virtue so greatly while making light of everything else and casting it away, from placing in virtue not merely a happy life but the happiest of lives?
haec reputent isti qui negant animum sine corpore se intellegere posse: videbunt, quem in ipso corpore intellegant. mihi quidem naturam animi intuenti multo difficilior occurrit cogitatio, multo obscurior, qualis animus in corpore sit tamquam alienae domi, quam qualis, cum exierit et in liberum caelum quasi domum suam venerit. si enim, quod numquam vidimus, id quale sit intellegere non possumus, certe et deum ipsum et divinum animum corpore liberatum cogitatione complecti possumus. Dicaearchus quidem et Aristoxenus, quia difficilis erat animi quid aut qualis esset intellegentia, nullum omnino animum esse dixerunt.
And unless this is so, the destruction of the virtues will follow. For on whomever distress falls, fear must fall on the same man as well — for fear is the anxious expectation of distress to come; and on whomever fear falls, on the same man fall dread, timidity, panic, cowardice; and so the same man will at times be conquered, and will not think that precept of Atreus applies to him: let them so prepare themselves in life that they know not how to be conquered. But this man will be conquered, as I have said, and not only conquered but enslaved as well; while we will have virtue always free, always unconquered; and unless these things hold, virtue is overthrown.
est illud quidem vel maxumum animo ipso animum videre, et nimirum hanc habet vim praeceptum Apollinis, quo monet ut se quisque noscat. non enim credo id praecipit, ut membra nostra aut staturam figuramve noscamus; neque nos corpora sumus, nec ego tibi haec dicens corpori tuo dico. cum igitur nosce te dicit, hoc dicit: nosce animum tuum. nam corpus quidem quasi vas est aut aliquod animi receptaculum; ab animo tuo quicquid agitur, id agitur a te. hunc igitur nosse nisi divinum esset, non esset hoc acrioris cuiusdam animi praeceptum tributum deo sc. hoc se ipsum posse cognoscere.
And if there is enough protection in virtue for living well, there is enough also for living happily; for there is certainly enough in virtue for us to live bravely; if bravely, then also with greatness of soul, and indeed so that we are never terrified by anything and are always unconquered. It follows that nothing is regretted, nothing lacking, nothing in the way; therefore all things flow on freely, perfectly, prosperously, and thus happily. But virtue has power enough for living bravely; therefore power enough also for living happily.
Sed si, qualis sit animus, ipse animus nesciet, dic quaeso, ne esse quidem se sciet, ne moveri quidem se? ex quo illa ratio nata est Platonis, quae a Socrate est in Phaedro explicata, a me autem posita est in sexto libro de re p.: “Quod semper movetur, aeternum est; quod autem motum adfert alicui quodque ipsum agitatur aliunde, quando finem habet motus, vivendi finem habeat necesse est. solum igitur, quod se ipsum movet, quia numquam deseritur a se, numquam ne moveri quidem desinit; quin etiam ceteris quae moventur hic fons, hoc principium est movendi.
For just as folly, even when it has attained what it desired, never thinks it has gained enough, so wisdom is always content with what is at hand, and is never displeased with itself. Do you suppose the single consulship of Gaius Laelius was like another’s — and that too coming with a defeat (if, when a man wise and good, such as he was, is passed over in the voting, it is not rather the people that has met a defeat at the hands of a good consul than he at the hands of a good people)? But still — which would you rather, if the choice were yours: to be consul once like Laelius, or four times like Cinna?
principii autem nulla est origo; nam e principio oriuntur omnia, ipsum autem nulla ex re alia nasci potest; nec enim esset id principium, quod gigneretur aliunde. quod si numquam oritur, ne occidit quidem umquam; nam principium extinctum nec ipsum ab alio renascetur nec ex se aliud creabit, siquidem necesse est a principio oriri omnia. ita fit, ut motus principium ex eo sit, quod ipsum a se movetur; id autem nec nasci potest nec mori, vel concidat omne caelum omnisque natura et consistat necesse est nec vim ullam nanciscatur, qua a primo inpulsa moveatur. cum pateat igitur aeternum id esse, quod se ipsum moveat, quis est qui hanc naturam animis esse tributam neget? inanimum est enim omne, quod pulsu agitatur externo; quod autem est animal, id motu cietur interiore et suo; nam haec est propria natura animi atque vis. quae si est una ex omnibus quae se ipsa semper
I have no doubt what you will answer; and so I see to whom I am committing the question. I would not put this same question to just anyone; for another might perhaps answer that he prefers not only four consulships to one, but a single day of Cinna’s to whole lifetimes of many famous men. Laelius, had he so much as touched a man with his finger, would have paid the penalty; but Cinna ordered the head of his colleague, the consul Gnaeus Octavius, to be struck off, and the heads of Publius Crassus and Lucius Caesar, men of the highest nobility, whose virtue had been proved at home and in war, and of Marcus Antonius, the most eloquent of all men I ever heard, and of Gaius Caesar, in whom there seemed to me to be a model of refinement, of wit, of charm, of grace. Was he happy, then, who killed these men? To me, on the contrary, he seems wretched not only because he did these things, but also because he so conducted himself that he was free to do them — though in truth no one is free to do wrong; but we slip through an error of language, for we say a thing is permitted
moveat, neque nata certe est et aeterna est.” licet concurrant omnes plebei philosophi—sic enim i, qui a Platone et Socrate et ab ea familia dissident, appellandi videntur—, non modo nihil umquam tam eleganter explicabunt, sed ne hoc quidem ipsum quam subtiliter conclusum sit intellegent. sentit igitur animus se moveri; quod cum sentit, illud una sentit, se vi sua, non aliena moveri, nec accidere posse ut ipse umquam a se deseratur. ex quo efficitur aeternitas, nisi quid habes ad haec. Ego vero facile sim passus ne in mentem quidem mihi aliquid contra venire; ita isti faveo sententiae. Quid?
when it is granted to a man to do it. Which, after all, was the happier — Gaius Marius, when he shared the glory of the Cimbric victory with his colleague Catulus, almost a second Laelius (for I count this man very like him), or when, victor in the civil war and enraged, he answered the kinsmen of Catulus who pleaded with him not once but again and again: "let him die"? In this the happier was the man who obeyed that wicked command than the one who issued so criminal an order. For as it is better to receive an injury than to do one, so it was better to go a little forward to meet death already drawing near — which is what Catulus did — than to do as Marius did: to crush, by the destruction of such a man, his own six consulships, and to defile the last span of his life.
illa tandem num leviora censes, quae declarant inesse in animis hominum divina quaedam? quae si cernerem quem ad modum nasci possent, etiam quem ad modum interirent viderem. nam sanguinem bilem pituitam ossa nervos venas, omnem denique membrorum et totius corporis figuram videor posse dicere unde concreta et quo modo facta sint: animum ipsum—si nihil esset in eo nisi id, ut per eum viveremus, tam natura putarem hominis vitam sustentari quam vitis, quam arboris; haec enim etiam dicimus vivere. item si nihil haberet animus hominis nisi ut appeteret aut fugeret, id quoque esset ei commune cum bestiis.
For thirty-eight years Dionysius was tyrant of the Syracusans, having seized the lordship at the age of twenty-five. With what splendor, with what resources he held the city, and the state oppressed in slavery! And yet of this man we have received from good authorities this account: that he was in his manner of living of the utmost temperance, in the conduct of affairs a keen and industrious man, but at the same time malicious by nature and unjust; from which it must seem to all who rightly look upon the truth that he was the most wretched of men. For the very things he had set his heart on, not even then, when he believed he could do all things, did he attain.
Habet primum memoriam, et eam infinitam rerum innumerabilium. quam quidem Plato recordationem esse volt vitae superioris. nam in illo libro, qui inscribitur Menon, pusionem quendam Socrates interrogat quaedam geometrica de dimensione quadrati. ad ea sic ille respondet ut puer, et tamen ita faciles interrogationes sunt, ut gradatim respondens eodem perveniat, quo si geometrica didicisset. ex quo effici volt Socrates, ut discere nihil aliud sit nisi recordari. quem locum multo etiam accuratius explicat in eo sermone, quem habuit eo ipso die, quo excessit e vita; docet enim quemvis, qui omnium rerum rudis esse videatur, bene interroganti respondentem declarare se non tum illa discere, sed reminiscendo recognoscere, nec vero fieri ullo modo posse, ut a pueris tot rerum atque tantarum insitas et quasi consignatas in animis notiones, quas e)nnoi/as vocant, haberemus, nisi animus, ante quam in corpus intravisset, in rerum cognitione viguisset.
For though he was born of good parents and of honorable station — though indeed this one point is handed down differently by different writers — and abounded both in the friendships of his peers and in the company of his kinsmen, and had besides, after the Greek fashion, certain young men bound to him by love, he trusted none of them, but committed the guarding of his person to men whom he had chosen as slaves out of the households of the rich, from whom he himself had stripped the name of slavery, and to certain immigrants and savage barbarians. Thus, through his unjust craving for lordship, he had in a manner shut himself up in prison. Indeed, that he might not entrust his throat to a barber, he taught his own daughters to cut hair. So in a sordid and servile craft these royal maidens, like little barber-girls, trimmed the beard and hair of their father. And yet from these very girls, when they were now grown, he took away the blade, and arranged that with glowing walnut shells they should singe off his beard and hair.
cumque nihil esset, ut omnibus locis a Platone disseritur—nihil enim putat esse, quod oriatur et intereat, idque solum esse, quod semper tale sit quale est ( i)de/an appellat ille, nos speciem)—, non potuit animus haec in corpore inclusus adgnoscere, cognita attulit; ex quo tam multarum rerum cognitionis admiratio tollitur. neque ea plane videt animus, cum repente in tam insolitum tamque perturbatum domicilium inmigravit, sed cum se collegit atque recreavit, tum adgnoscit illa reminiscendo.
And though he had two wives, Aristomache, his fellow citizen, and Doris of Locri, he would come to them by night only after spying out and searching through everything beforehand. And since he had set a broad ditch around the chamber where his bed stood, and had joined the crossing of that ditch by a little wooden bridge, he himself would swing this very bridge aside once he had shut the door of the chamber. And since he did not dare to stand on the common platforms, he was accustomed to address the assembly from a high tower.
ita nihil est aliud discere nisi recordari. Ego autem maiore etiam quodam modo memoriam admiror. quid est enim illud quo meminimus, aut quam habet vim aut unde nat ur am? non quaero, quanta memoria Simonides fuisse dicatur, quanta Theodectes, quanta is, qui a Pyrrho legatus ad senatum est missus, Cineas, quanta nuper Charmadas, quanta, qui modo fuit, Scepsius Metrodorus, quanta noster Hortensius: de communi hominum memoria loquor, et eorum maxume qui in aliquo maiore studio et arte versantur, quorum quanta mens sit, difficile est existimare; ita multa meminerunt.
And when he wished to play ball — for he did this eagerly and often — and was laying aside his tunic, he is said to have handed his sword to a young man whom he loved. At this one of his companions said in jest: "To him, at any rate, you certainly entrust your life," and the young man smiled; whereupon he ordered both to be put to death, the one because he had pointed out the way of killing him, the other because he had approved the remark by his laughter. And by that deed he was so grieved that he bore nothing more heavily in all his life; for he had killed one he had loved intensely. So the desires of men without self-mastery are pulled apart in opposite directions: when you have indulged the one, the other must be resisted.
Quorsus igitur haec spectat oratio? quae sit illa vis et unde sit, intellegendum puto. non est certe nec cordis nec sanguinis nec cerebri nec atomorum; animae sit ignisne nescio, nec me pudet ut istos fateri nescire quod nesciam: illud, si ulla alia de re obscura adfirmare possem, sive anima sive ignis sit animus, eum iurarem esse divinum. quid enim, obsecro te, terrane tibi hoc nebuloso et caliginoso caelo aut sata aut concreta videtur tanta vis memoriae? si quid sit hoc non vides, at quale sit vides; si ne id quidem, at quantum sit profecto vides.
And yet this very tyrant passed judgment on his own happiness. For when one of his flatterers, Damocles, was recounting in conversation his forces, his power, the majesty of his rule, the abundance of his wealth, the splendor of his royal palace, and declaring that no one had ever been more fortunate, "Would you like, then, Damocles," he said, "since this life delights you, to taste it for yourself and try out my fortune?" When the man said he would gladly, Dionysius ordered him laid on a golden couch spread with a covering of the most beautiful weave, embroidered with magnificent designs, and had several sideboards decked with chased gold and silver. Then he ordered chosen boys of surpassing beauty to take their stand at the table and to wait upon him attentively, watching his every nod.
quid igitur? utrum capacitatem aliquam in animo putamus esse, quo tamquam in aliquod vas ea quae meminimus infundantur? absurdum id quidem; qui enim fundus aut quae talis animi figura intellegi potest aut quae tanta omnino capacitas? an inprimi quasi ceram animum putamus, et esse memoriam signatarum rerum in mente vestigia? quae possunt verborum, quae rerum ipsarum esse vestigia, quae porro tam inmensa magnitudo, quae illa tam multa possit effingere? Quid?
There were perfumes and garlands; incense was burning; the tables were piled high with the choicest delicacies. Damocles thought himself a fortunate man. In the midst of all this display Dionysius ordered a gleaming sword, fastened by a single horsehair, to be let down from the ceiling, so that it hung over the neck of this happy man. And so Damocles neither looked at those beautiful attendants, nor at the silver wrought with such art, nor reached out his hand to the table; the garlands by now were slipping from his head; at last he begged the tyrant to let him go, since he no longer wished to be happy. Does Dionysius not seem to have shown clearly enough that there is no happiness for a man over whom some terror forever hangs? Nor was it any longer open to him to return to justice, to give his citizens back their freedom and their rights; for in his youth, at an age that takes no thought, he had so entangled himself in errors and committed such crimes that he could not be safe if he once began to be sane.
illa vis quae tandem est quae investigat occulta, quae inventio atque excogitatio dicitur? ex hacne tibi terrena mortalique natura et caduca concreta ea videtur? aut qui primus, quod summae sapientiae Pythagorae visum est, omnibus rebus imposuit nomina? aut qui dissipatos homines congregavit et ad societatem vitae convocavit, aut qui sonos vocis, qui infiniti videbantur, paucis litterarum notis terminavit, aut qui errantium stellarum cursus praegressiones insti tu tiones notavit? omnes magni; etiam superiores, qui fruges, qui vestitum, qui tecta, qui cultum vitae, qui praesidia contra feras invenerunt, a quibus mansuefacti et exculti a necessariis artificiis ad elegantiora defluximus. nam et auribus oblectatio magna parta est inventa et temperata varietate et natura sonorum, et astra suspeximus cum ea quae sunt infixa certis locis, tum illa non re sed vocabulo errantia, quorum conversiones omnisque motus qui animo vidit, is docuit similem animum suum eius esse, qui ea fabricatus esset in caelo.
How much he longed for friendships, whose faithlessness he dreaded, he showed in the case of those two Pythagoreans: when he had accepted one of them as surety for the other’s death, and the other, to free his surety, had presented himself at the appointed hour of death, "Would," he said, "that I might be enrolled as a third friend among you!" How wretched it was for him to do without the company of friends, the fellowship of daily life, intimate conversation altogether — and this for a man learned from boyhood and schooled in the liberal arts, devoted besides to music; a writer of tragedy, too — how good a one is nothing to the point, for in this field, somehow more than in others, every man finds his own work beautiful. I have never yet known a poet (and I had a friendship with Aquinius) who did not think himself the best; that is how it stands: your work delights you, mine delights me. — But to return to Dionysius: he was deprived of all human refinement and society; he lived among runaways, among criminals, among barbarians; he counted no one his friend who was either worthy of freedom or wished to be free at all. With this man’s life — than which I can conceive nothing more foul, more wretched, more detestable — I shall not now compare the life of Plato or Archytas, learned men and plainly wise:
nam cum Archimedes lunae solis quinque errantium motus in sphaeram inligavit, effecit idem quod ille, qui in Timaeo mundum aedificavit, Platonis deus, ut tarditate et celeritate dissimillimos motus una regeret conversio. quod si in hoc mundo fieri sine deo non potest, ne in sphaera quidem eosdem motus Archimedes sine divino ingenio potuisset imitari.
from the same city I shall summon up a lowly little man from his dust and drawing-board, one who lived many years later, Archimedes. When I was quaestor I tracked down his grave, unknown to the Syracusans — they denied it existed at all — hemmed in on every side and overgrown with brambles and thickets. For I held in mind certain little verses that I had been told were inscribed upon his monument, which declared that a sphere with a cylinder had been set on top of the tomb.
Mihi vero ne haec quidem notiora et inlustriora carere vi divina videntur, ut ego aut poëtam grave plenumque carmen sine caelesti aliquo mentis instinctu putem fundere, aut eloquentiam sine maiore quadam vi fluere abundantem sonantibus verbis uberibusque sententiis. philosophia vero, omnium mater artium, quid est aliud nisi, ut Plato, donum, ut ego, inventum deorum? haec nos primum ad illorum cultum, deinde ad ius hominum, quod situm est in generis humani societate, tum ad modestiam magnitudinemque animi erudivit, eademque ab animo tamquam ab oculis caliginem dispulit, ut omnia supera infera prima ultima media videremus.
Now as I was surveying everything with my eyes — for there is a great crowd of tombs at the Agrigentine Gate — I noticed a small column standing out a little from the thickets, on which there was the figure of a sphere and a cylinder. And at once I told the Syracusans — their leading men were with me — that I thought this was the very thing I was looking for. Men were sent in with sickles; they cleared and opened up the place.
prorsus haec divina mihi videtur vis, quae tot res efficiat et tantas. quid est enim memoria rerum et verborum? quid porro inventio? profecto id, quo ne in deo quidem quicquam maius intellegi potest. non enim ambrosia deos aut nectare aut Iuventate pocula ministrante laetari arbitror, nec Homerum audio, qui Ganymeden ab dis raptum ait propter formam, ut Iovi bibere ministraret; non iusta causa, cur Laomedonti tanta fieret iniuria. fingebat haec Homerus et humana ad deos transferebat: divina mallem ad nos. quae autem divina? vigere, sapere, invenire, meminisse. ergo animus qui..., ut ego dico, divinus est, ut Euripides dicere audet, deus. Et quidem, si deus aut anima aut ignis est, idem est animus hominis. nam ut illa natura caelestis et terra vacat et umore, sic utriusque harum rerum humanus animus est expers; sin autem est quinta quaedam natura, ab Aristotele inducta primum, haec et deorum est et animorum. Hanc nos sententiam secuti his ipsis verbis in Consolatione hoc expressimus:
When the way to it had been laid open, we approached the base facing us. There appeared the epigram, with the latter halves of the little verses eaten away — about half of it remaining. So the most renowned city of Greece, once indeed the most learned as well, would have known nothing of the monument of its one most brilliant citizen, had it not learned of it from a man of Arpinum. But let the discourse return to where it strayed: who is there of all men, provided he has any dealings at all with the Muses — that is, with culture and learning — who would not rather be this mathematician than that tyrant? If we ask after the manner and conduct of their lives, the one man’s mind was nourished by the working out and investigation of reasonings, with the delight of his own ingenuity, which is the single sweetest food of the soul; the other’s, by slaughter and injustice, with fear by day and by night. Come now, set beside him Democritus, Pythagoras, Anaxagoras: what kingdoms, what riches will you prefer to their pursuits and delights?
’Animorum nulla in terris origo inveniri potest; nihil enim est in animis mixtum atque concretum aut quod ex terra natum atque fictum esse videatur, nihil ne aut umidum quidem aut flabile aut igneum. his enim in naturis nihil inest, quod vim memoriae mentis cogitationis habeat, quod et praeterita teneat et futura provideat et complecti possit praesentia. quae sola divina sunt, nec invenietur umquam, unde ad hominem venire possint nisi a deo. singularis est igitur quaedam natura atque vis animi seiuncta ab his usitatis notisque naturis. ita, quicquid est illud, quod sentit quod sapit quod vivit quod viget, caeleste et divinum ob eamque rem aeternum sit necesse est. nec vero deus ipse, qui intellegitur a nobis, alio modo intellegi potest nisi mens soluta quaedam et libera, segregata ab omni concretione mortali, omnia sentiens et movens ipsaque praedita motu sempiterno. hoc e genere atque eadem e natura est humana mens.’ Ubi igitur aut qualis est ista mens?
For that part which is best in a man — there it is that the best thing you seek must necessarily reside. And what is there in a man better than a keen and sound mind? It is the good of this mind, then, that we must enjoy, if we wish to be happy; but the good of the mind is virtue; therefore the happy life must necessarily be contained in virtue. From this come all things that are beautiful, honorable, and noble — as I said above, but the same point seems worth stating a little more fully — and they are full of joys. And since it is clear that the happy life arises from perpetual and abundant joys, it follows that it arises from the honorable.
—ubi tua aut qualis? potesne dicere? an, si omnia ad intellegendum non habeo quae habere vellem, ne is quidem quae habeo mihi per te uti licebit? non valet tantum animus, ut se ipse videat, at ut oculus, sic animus se non videns alia cernit. non videt autem, quod minimum est, formam suam (quamquam fortasse id quoque, sed relinquamus); vim certe, sagacitatem, memoriam, motum, celeritatem videt. haec magna, haec divina, haec sempiterna sunt; qua facie quidem sit aut ubi habitet, ne quaerendum quidem est.
But that we may not merely touch in words upon what we wish to demonstrate, certain considerations must be set out, so to speak, to move us, which may turn us more readily toward recognition and understanding. Let us, then, take a certain outstanding man, accomplished in the finest arts, and let us fashion him for a moment in our mind and thought. First, he must be of exceptional natural gift; for virtue does not readily keep company with sluggish minds. Next, he must have an eager zeal for tracking down the truth. From this there will arise that threefold yield of the mind: one part set in the knowledge of things and the unfolding of nature, a second in the marking out of what is to be sought and what shunned and in the principle of living well, a third in judging what is consequent upon each thing and what contradicts it — and in this lies all the subtlety of reasoning together with the truth of judgment.
Ut cum videmus speciem primum candoremque caeli, dein conversionis celeritatem tantam quantam cogitare non possumus, tum vicissitudines dierum ac noctium commutationesque temporum quadrupertitas ad maturitatem frugum et ad temperationem corporum aptas eorumque omnium moderatorem et ducem solem, lunamque adcretione et deminutione luminis quasi fastorum notantem et significantem dies, tum in eodem orbe in duodecim partes distributo quinque stellas ferri eosdem cursus constantissime servantis disparibus inter se motibus, nocturnamque caeli formam undique sideribus ornatam, tum globum terrae eminentem e mari, fixum in medio mundi universi loco, duabus oris distantibus habitabilem et cultum, quarum altera, quam nos incolimus, Sub a/xe posita ad ste/llas septem, unde ho/rrifer, Aquilo/nis stridor ge/lidas molitu/r nives, altera australis, ignota nobis, quam vocant Graeci
With what joy, then, must the mind of the wise man be filled, dwelling and passing its nights among these concerns! When he has discerned the motions and revolutions of the whole universe, and seen the countless stars fixed in the sky moving in concert with its own motion, set in their appointed seats; and the seven others each holding their own courses, far apart from one another in their height or their lowness, whose wandering motions yet mark out the fixed and certain spans of their orbits — surely the sight of these things urged on those men of old and prompted them to seek further. From this was born the search into beginnings, and into seeds, as it were, from which all things rose, were generated, and took shape; and what is the origin of each kind, whether lifeless or living, whether mute or speaking; what its life, what its death, and what the succession and change from one thing into another; whence the earth, and by what weights it is balanced, in what hollows the seas are held, by what force of gravity all things are carried so as ever to seek the middle place of the world, which in a round body is also the lowest.
a)nti/xqona, ceteras partis incultas, quod aut frigore rigeant aut urantur calore; hic autem, ubi habitamus, non intermittit suo tempore Caelu/m nitescere, a/rbores fronde/scere, Vite/s laetificae pa/mpinis pube/scere, Rami/ bacarum ube/rtate incurve/scere, Segete/s largiri fru/ges, florere o/mnia, Fonte/s scatere, herbis pra/ta convesti/rier, tum multitudinem pecudum partim ad vescendum, partim ad cultus agrorum, partim ad vehendum, partim ad corpora vestienda, hominemque ipsum quasi contemplatorem caeli ac deorum cultorem atque ho-
For the mind that handles these matters and reflects on them night and day, there arises that self-knowledge enjoined by the god at Delphi: that the mind should recognize itself and feel itself joined with the divine mind, from which it is filled with an insatiable joy. For the very contemplation of the power and nature of the gods kindles a zeal to imitate their eternity, and the mind does not think itself confined within the brevity of life, when it sees the causes of things linked one to another and bound by necessity — causes which, though they flow from everlasting time into everlasting, are yet governed by reason and mind.
minis utilitati agros omnis et maria parentia—: haec igitur et alia innumerabilia cum cernimus, possumusne dubitare quin is praesit aliquis vel effector, si haec nata sunt, ut Platoni videtur, vel, si semper fuerunt, ut Aristoteli placet, moderator tanti operis et muneris? sic mentem hominis, quamvis eam non videas, ut deum non vides, tamen, ut deum adgnoscis ex operibus eius, sic ex memoria rerum et inventione et celeritate motus omnique pulchritudine virtutis vim divinam mentis adgnoscito. In quo igitur loco est? credo equidem in capite et cur credam adferre possum. sed alias, ubi sit animus; certe quidem in te est. quae est eius natura? propria, puto, et sua. sed fac igneam, fac spirabilem: nihil ad id de quo agimus. illud modo videto, ut deum noris, etsi eius ignores et locum et faciem, sic animum tibi tuum notum esse oportere, etiamsi ignores et locum et formam.
Gazing upon these things and looking up at them — or rather, surveying every part and region of them — with what tranquility of mind, in turn, does he consider human affairs and things nearer at hand! From this comes that knowledge of virtue; the kinds and parts of the virtues come into flower; it is discovered what nature looks to as the ultimate end among goods and the last among evils, to what the duties are to be referred, what plan of living out one’s life is to be chosen. And from the investigation of these and like matters there comes about, above all else, that very thing which is the business of this discussion: that virtue is self-sufficient for living happily.
in animi autem cognitione dubitare non possumus, nisi plane in physicis plumbei sumus, quin nihil sit animis admixtum, nihil concretum, nihil copulatum, nihil coagmentatum, nihil duplex: quod cum ita sit, certe nec secerni nec dividi nec discerpi nec distrahi potest, ne interire quidem igitur. est enim interitus quasi discessus et secretio ac diremptus earum partium, quae ante interitum iunctione aliqua tenebantur. His et talibus rationibus adductus Socrates nec patronum quaesivit ad iudicium capitis nec iudicibus supplex fuit adhibuitque liberam contumaciam a magnitudine animi ductam, non a superbia, et supremo vitae die de hoc ipso multa disseruit et paucis ante diebus, cum facile posset educi e custodia, noluit, et tum, paene in manu iam mortiferum illud tenens poculum, locutus ita est, ut non ad mortem trudi, verum in caelum videretur escendere.
There follows the third part, which runs and pours through every part of wisdom — which defines a thing, distinguishes its kinds, joins what follows, draws conclusions to their completion, and judges true from false: the method and science of reasoning. From it arises both the highest usefulness for weighing matters and, above all, a delight that is liberal and worthy of wisdom. But these are the works of leisure. Let this same wise man pass over to the defense of the commonwealth. What could be more excellent than he, when in his prudence he discerns what is to the advantage of the citizens, in his justice diverts nothing of it to his own house, and makes use of all his other so many and so various virtues? Add the harvest of friendships, in which the learned find both counsel for the whole of life, harmonious and almost of one breath, and the highest pleasure in their daily intercourse and shared life. What, in the end, does this life want, to be happier? Fortune herself must yield to a life crammed with so many and so great joys. But if to rejoice in such goods of the mind — that is, in the virtues — is to be happy, and if all the wise enjoy these joys to the full, then it must be admitted that they are all happy. — Even on the rack and under torture?
Ita enim censebat itaque disseruit, duas esse vias duplicesque cursus animorum e corpore excedentium: nam qui se humanis vitiis contaminavissent et se totos libidinibus dedissent, quibus caecati vel domesticis vitiis atque flagitiis se inquinavissent vel re publica violanda fraudes inexpiabiles concepissent, is devium quoddam iter esse, seclusum a concilio deorum; qui autem se integros castosque servavissent, quibusque fuisset minima cum corporibus contagio seseque ab is semper sevocavissent essentque in corporibus humanis vitam imitati deorum, is ad illos a quibus essent profecti reditum facilem patere.
Or did you suppose I was speaking of him as lying on violets and roses? Or shall it be permitted to Epicurus — who merely put on the mask of a philosopher and inscribed the name upon himself — to say (a thing that, as the matter stands, he says to my applause) that there is no time for the wise man, even if he be burned, racked, cut, when he cannot cry out, "How utterly I scorn it!" — and this above all when he defines every evil by pain and every good by pleasure, mocks these honorable and base things of ours, and says that we are taken up with words and pour out empty sounds, that nothing concerns us except what is felt in the body as smooth or rough? To this man, then, differing little, as I said, from the judgment of beasts, it shall be permitted to forget himself, and at one moment to despise fortune — though his every good and evil lies in fortune’s power — and at the next to call himself happy in the height of torment and torture, though he has laid it down that pain is not only the highest evil but the only one?
Itaque commemorat, ut cygni, qui non sine causa Apollini dicati sint, sed quod ab eo divinationem habere videantur, qua providentes quid in morte boni sit cum cantu et voluptate moriantur, sic omnibus bonis et doctis esse faciendum. (nec vero de hoc quisquam dubitare posset, nisi idem nobis accideret diligenter de animo cogitantibus, quod is saepe usu venit, qui cum acriter oculis deficientem solem intuerentur, ut aspectum omnino amitterent; sic mentis acies se ipsa intuens non numquam hebescit, ob eamque causam contemplandi diligentiam amittimus. itaque dubitans circumspectans haesitans, multa adversa reverens tamquam in rate in mari inmenso
Nor indeed has he furnished himself with those remedies for enduring pain — firmness of mind, shame at what is base, the practice and habit of suffering, the precepts of fortitude, a manly hardness — but he says he finds rest in a single thing, the recollection of past pleasures; as if a man scorched by heat, when he cannot easily bear the violence of it, should wish to recall that once, in our own country of Arpinum, he was plunged about by cool rivers. For I do not see how past pleasures can soothe
nostra vehitur oratio ). sed haec et vetera et a Graecis; Cato autem sic abiit e vita, ut causam moriendi nactum se esse gauderet. vetat enim dominans ille in nobis deus iniussu hinc nos suo demigrare; cum vero causam iustam deus ipse dederit, ut tunc Socrati, nunc Catoni, saepe multis, ne ille me Dius Fidius vir sapiens laetus ex his tenebris in lucem illam excesserit, nec tamen ille vincla carceris ruperit—leges enim vetant—, sed tamquam a magistratu aut ab aliqua potestate legitima, sic a deo evocatus atque emissus exierit. Tota enim philosophorum vita, ut ait idem, commentatio mortis est.
present evils. — But since the man who says this declares the wise man always happy — a thing he has no right to say, if he wished to be consistent with himself — what then must they do who hold that nothing is to be sought, nothing to be counted among goods, that lacks honor? On my authority, then, let even the Peripatetics and the old Academics at last leave off their stammering and dare to say openly and in a clear voice that the happy life will go down into the bull of Phalaris.
nam quid aliud agimus, cum a voluptate, id est a corpore, cum a re familiari, quae est ministra et famula corporis, cum a re publica, cum a negotio omni sevocamus animum, quid, inquam, tum agimus nisi animum ad se ipsum advocamus, secum esse cogimus maximeque a corpore abducimus? secernere autem a corpore animum, nec quicquam aliud, est mori discere. quare hoc commentemur, mihi crede, disiungamusque nos a corporibus, id est consuescamus mori. hoc, et dum erimus in terris, erit illi caelesti vitae simile, et cum illuc ex his vinclis emissi feremur, minus tardabitur cursus animorum. nam qui in compedibus corporis semper fuerunt, etiam cum soluti sunt, tardius ingrediuntur, ut i qui ferro vincti multos annos fuerunt. quo cum venerimus, tum denique vivemus. nam haec quidem vita mors est, quam lamentari possem, si liberet. Satis tu quidem in Consolatione es lamentatus;
For let there be three kinds of goods — to withdraw at last from the Stoic snares, which I see I have employed more than is my habit — let there be those kinds of goods, then, by all means, provided the goods of the body and the external ones lie low upon the ground and are called goods only because they are to be taken up, while those divine goods of the soul spread themselves far and wide and reach the very sky; so that the man who has attained them — why should I call him merely happy and not the happiest of all? But will the wise man dread pain? For it is pain above all that fights against this verdict. Against the death of ourselves and of those dear to us, against distress and the other disturbances of the soul, we seem armed and ready enough by the discussions of the earlier days; pain seems the fiercest adversary of virtue. It brandishes its blazing torches; it threatens to wear down courage, greatness of soul, and endurance.
quam cum lego, nihil malo quam has res relinquere, his vero modo auditis multo magis. Veniet tempus, et quidem celeriter, sive retractabis sive properabis; volat enim aetas. tantum autem abest ab eo ut malum mors sit, quod tibi dudum videbatur, ut verear ne homini nihil sit non malum aliud certius, nihil bonum aliud potius, si quidem vel di ipsi vel cum dis futuri sumus Quid refert? Adsunt enim, qui haec non probent. ego autem numquam ita te in hoc sermone dimittam, ulla uti ratione mors tibi videri malum possit. Qui potest, cum ista cognoverim? Qui possit, rogas?
Will virtue, then, give way to this? Will the happy life of the wise and steadfast man yield to it? How shameful, good gods! Spartan boys do not so much as groan when they are torn by the pain of the lash. We ourselves saw at Lacedaemon bands of young men contending with unbelievable fierceness — with fists, heels, nails, even teeth at the last — sooner letting themselves be beaten senseless than confess themselves beaten. What barbarian land is wilder or rougher than India? Yet even among that people, those first who are held to be wise pass their lives naked, and endure the snows of the Caucasus and the violence of winter without pain; and when they have laid themselves against the flame, they are scorched without a groan.
catervae veniunt contra dicentium, nec solum Epicureorum, quos equidem non despicio, sed nescio quo modo doctissimus quisque contemnit, acerrume autem deliciae meae Dicaearchus contra hanc inmortalitatem disseruit. is enim tris libros scripsit, qui Lesbiaci vocantur quod Mytilenis sermo habetur, in quibus volt efficere animos esse mortalis. Stoici autem usuram nobis largiuntur tamquam cornicibus: diu mansuros aiunt animos, semper negant. num non vis igitur audire, cur, etiamsi ita sit, mors tamen non sit in malis? Ut videtur, sed me nemo de inmortalitate depellet. Laudo id quidem, etsi nihil nimis oportet confidere;
The women of India, moreover, when one of them has lost her husband, come into a contest and a trial: which of them he loved most — for several wives are usually married to a single man. She who is the victor, attended joyfully by her own people, is laid upon the pyre together with her husband; the one defeated departs in grief. Custom would never overcome nature, for nature is forever unconquered; but we have infected our souls with shadows, with luxuries, with idleness, sloth, and indolence; we have softened them, lulled by opinions and by bad habit. Who does not know the custom of the Egyptians? Their minds, steeped in the errors of perversity, would undergo any torture sooner than do violence to an ibis, an asp, a cat, a dog, or a crocodile; and even if they have done one of these creatures some harm unawares, they refuse no punishment for it.
movemur enim saepe aliquo acute concluso, labamus mutamusque sententiam clarioribus etiam in rebus; in his est enim aliqua obscuritas. id igitur si acciderit, simus armati. Sane quidem, sed ne accidat, providebo. Num quid igitur est causae, quin amicos nostros Stoicos dimittamus? eos dico, qui aiunt manere animos, cum e corpore excesserint, sed non semper. Istos vero qui, quod tota in hac causa difficillimum est, suscipiant, posse animum manere corpore vacantem, illud autem, quod non modo facile ad credendum est, sed eo concesso, quod volunt, consequens, id vero non dant, ut, cum diu permanserit, ne intereat.
I speak of men. What of beasts? Do they not endure cold, hunger, their roving courses and wanderings over mountains and through forests? Do they not fight for their young so fiercely that they take wounds upon themselves, flinching from no assault, no blow? I pass over what men endure and suffer who are greedy for office for ambition’s sake, eager for praise for the sake of glory, kindled by love for the sake of desire. Life is full of such examples.
Bene reprehendis, et se isto modo res habet. credamus igitur Panaetio a Platone suo dissentienti? quem enim omnibus locis divinum, quem sapientissimum, quem sanctissimum, quem Homerum philosophorum appellat, huius hanc unam sententiam de inmortalitate animorum non probat. volt enim, quod nemo negat, quicquid natum sit interire; nasci autem animos, quod declaret eorum similitudo qui procreentur, quae etiam in ingeniis, non solum in corporibus appareat. alteram autem adfert rationem, nihil esse quod doleat, quin id aegrum esse quoque possit; quod autem in morbum cadat, id etiam interiturum; dolere autem animos, ergo etiam interire.
But let our discourse keep its measure and return to the point from which it turned aside. The happy life, I say, will give itself over to the torments, and having followed justice, temperance, and above all courage, greatness of soul, and endurance, when it has seen the face of the torturer it will halt — and with all the virtues setting out toward the torment without any terror of soul, it will stand its ground outside the doors, as I said before, and on the threshold of the prison. For what could be more loathsome than the happy life, what more disfigured, left alone, cut off from its fairest company? Yet that can in no way come to pass; for the virtues cannot hold together without the happy life, nor the happy life without the virtues.
haec refelli possunt: sunt enim ignorantis, cum de aeternitate animorum dicatur, de mente dici, quae omni turbido motu semper vacet, non de partibus is, in quibus aegritudines irae libidinesque versentur, quas is, contra quem haec dicuntur, semotas a mente et disclusas putat. iam similitudo magis apparet in bestiis, quarum animi sunt rationis expertes; hominum autem similitudo in corporum figura magis exstat, et ipsi animi magni refert quali in corpore locati sint. multa enim e corpore existunt, quae acuant mentem, multa, quae obtundant. Aristoteles quidem ait omnis ingeniosos melancholicos esse, ut ego me tardiorem esse non moleste feram. enumerat multos, idque quasi constet, rationem cur ita fiat adfert. quod si tanta vis est ad habitum mentis in is quae gignuntur in corpore, ea sunt autem, quaecumque sunt, quae similitudinem faciant, nihil necessitatis adfert, cur nascantur animi, similitudo. omitto dissimilitudines.
And so they will not allow it to turn its back, but will carry it off with them to whatever pain and torment they themselves are led. For it is the wise man’s own mark to do nothing he could ever repent of, nothing against his will, but all things splendidly, steadfastly, with weight and with honor; to expect nothing as though it were certain to come, to wonder at nothing when it has come, as though it had befallen unforeseen and strange; to refer all things to his own judgment, to stand by his own decisions. What could be happier than this, I for one cannot conceive.
vellem adesse posset Panaetius—vixit cum Africano—, quaererem ex eo, cuius suorum similis fuisset Africani fratris nepos, facie vel patris, vita omnium perditorum ita similis, ut esset facile deterrimus; cuius etiam similis P. Crassi, et sapientis et eloquentis et primi hominis, nepos multorumque aliorum clarorum virorum, quos nihil attinet nominare, nepotes et filii. Sed quid agimus? oblitine sumus hoc nunc nobis esse propositum, cum satis de aeternitate dixissemus, ne si interirent quidem animi, quicquam mali esse in morte? Ego vero memineram, sed te de aeternitate dicentem aberrare a proposito facile patiebar.
The Stoics’ conclusion, indeed, is easy. Since they have judged that the end of goods is to be in harmony with nature and to live in accord with it, and since this lies within the wise man’s power not by duty alone but by capacity, it must follow that the man in whose power the highest good lies has the happy life in his power as well. Thus the wise man’s life is always happy. — There you have what I think can be said most stoutly about the happy life, and, as matters now stand, unless you bring something better, most truly as well. — For my part I can bring nothing better; but I would gladly win this from you, if it is no trouble: since no bonds tie you to any one fixed school, and you draw from all of them whatever most moves you with the look of truth — what you seemed a little while ago to be urging upon the Peripatetics and the Old Academy, that without any holding back they should dare to say freely that the wise are always happiest, that is what I should like to hear, how you think it consistent for them to say it. For you said much against that verdict, and much that was deduced by the reasoning of the Stoics.
Video te alte spectare et velle in caelum migrare. spero fore ut contingat id nobis. sed fac, ut isti volunt, animos non remanere post mortem: video nos, si ita sit, privari spe beatioris vitae; mali vero quid adfert ista sententia? fac enim sic animum interire ut corpus: num igitur aliquis dolor aut omnino post mortem sensus in corpore est? nemo id quidem dicit, etsi Democritum insimulat Epicurus, Democritii negant. ne in animo quidem igitur sensus remanet; ipse enim nusquam est. ubi igitur malum est, quoniam nihil tertium est? an quod ipse animi discessus a corpore non fit sine dolore? ut credam ita esse, quam est id exiguum! sed falsum esse arbitror, et fit plerumque sine sensu, non numquam etiam cum voluptate, totumque hoc leve est, qualecumque est;
Let us use, then, the liberty that we alone in philosophy are allowed to use — we whose discourse pronounces no judgment of its own, but ranges over every side, so that it may be judged by others through itself, with no man’s authority attached. And since you seem to wish this — that whatever the verdict of the disagreeing philosophers may be about the ends, virtue should nevertheless have safeguard enough for the happy life — which is what we are told Carneades used to argue; but he argued it against the Stoics, whom he was always most eager to refute, and against whose doctrine his genius had taken fire. I, however, will conduct it in peace — for if the Stoics have set down the end of goods rightly, the matter is settled: the wise man must always be happy —
fit enim ad punctum temporis. Illud angit vel potius excruciat, discessus ab omnibus is quae sunt bona in vita. vide ne a malis dici verius possit. quid ego nunc lugeam vitam hominum? vere et iure possum; sed quid necesse est, cum id agam ne post mortem miseros nos putemus fore, etiam vitam efficere deplorando miseriorem? fecimus hoc in eo libro, in quo nosmet ipsos, quantum potuimus, consolati sumus. a malis igitur mors abducit, non a bonis, verum si quaerimus. et quidem hoc a Cyrenaico Hegesia sic copiose disputatur, ut is a rege Ptolomaeo prohibitus esse dicatur illa in scholis dicere, quod multi is auditis mortem sibi ipsi consciscerent.
but let us examine each of the remaining verdicts one by one, if it can be done, to see whether this splendid decree, so to speak, of the happy life can be made to agree with the verdicts and doctrines of all. Now these, as I suppose, are the verdicts about the ends that have been held and defended. First, four simple ones: nothing is good but the honorable, as the Stoics hold; nothing is good but pleasure, as Epicurus holds; nothing is good but freedom from pain, as Hieronymus holds; nothing is good but to enjoy the first goods of nature, either all of them or the greatest, as Carneades argued against the Stoics.
Callimachi quidem epigramma in Ambraciotam Theombrotum est, quem ait, cum ei nihil accidisset adversi, e muro se in mare abiecisse lecto Platonis libro. eius autem, quem dixi, Hegesiae liber est *)apokarterw=n, quo a vita quidem per inediam discedens revocatur ab amicis; quibus respondens vitae humanae enumerat incommoda. possem idem facere, etsi minus quam ille, qui omnino vivere expedire nemini putat. mitto alios: etiamne nobis expedit? qui et domesticis et forensibus solaciis ornamentisque privati certe si ante occidissemus, mors nos a malis, non a bonis abstraxisset.
These, then, are the simple verdicts; the following are the mixed: three kinds of goods, the greatest of the soul, the second of the body, the third the external ones, as the Peripatetics hold, and not much otherwise the Old Academics. Pleasure with honor Dinomachus and Callipho coupled together; freedom from pain the Peripatetic Diodorus joined to the honorable. These are the verdicts that have some stability; for those of Aristo, of Pyrrho, of Erillus, and of certain others have faded away. What these can maintain, let us see — leaving the Stoics aside, whose verdict I think I have defended sufficiently. And the case of the Peripatetics has indeed been set out, except for Theophrastus and any who, following him, shrink from pain too feebly and dread it. The rest may do what they generally do — exalt the weight and worth of virtue. And when they have raised it to the sky, as eloquent men are wont to do with full abundance, it is easy to grind down and despise the rest by comparison. For it cannot be permitted to those who say that praise is to be sought even at the cost of pain to deny that those are happy who have attained it. For although they may be amid certain evils, still this name of "the happy" extends far and wide.
Sit igitur aliquis, qui nihil mali habeat, nullum a fortuna volnus acceperit: Metellus ille honoratis quattuor filiis aut quinquaginta Priamus, e quibus septemdecim iusta uxore natis; in utroque eandem habuit fortuna potestatem, sed usa in altero est: Metellum enim multi filii filiae nepotes neptes in rogum inposuerunt, Priamum tanta progenie orbatum, cum in aram confugisset, hostilis manus interemit. hic si vivis filiis incolumi regno occidisset asta/nte ope ba/rbarica Tecti/s caelatis la/queatis, utrum tandem a bonis an a malis discessisset? tum profecto videretur a bonis. at certe ei melius evenisset nec tam flebiliter illa canerentur: Haec o/mnia vidi infla/mmari, Priamo/ vi vitam evi/tari, Iovis a/ram sanguine tu/rpari. quasi vero ista vi quicquam tum potuerit ei melius accidere! quodsi ante occidisset, talem eventum omnino amisisset; hoc autem tempore sensum amisit malorum.
For just as trade is called profitable and plowing fruitful — not if the one is forever free of every loss and the other of every disaster of weather, but if good fortune stands out in much the greater part of each — so a life can rightly be called happy not only if it is crammed with goods on every side, but if the good things weigh down the scale by much the greater and heavier part.
Pompeio, nostro familiari, cum graviter aegrotaret Neapoli, melius est factum. coronati Neapolitani fuerunt, nimirum etiam Puteolani; volgo ex oppidis publice gratulabantur: ineptum sane negotium et Graeculum, sed tamen fortunatum. utrum igitur, si tum esset extinctus, a bonis rebus an a malis discessisset? certe a miseris. non enim cum socero bellum gessisset, non inparatus arma sumpsisset, non domum reliquisset, non ex Italia fugisset, non exercitu amisso nudus in servorum ferrum et manus incidisset, †non liberi defleti, non fortunae omnes a victoribus possiderentur. qui, si mortem tum obisset, in amplissimis fortunis occidisset, is propagatione vitae quot, quantas, quam incredibilis hausit calamitates! haec morte effugiuntur, etiamsi non evenerunt, tamen, quia possunt evenire; sed homines ea sibi accidere posse non cogitant: Metelli sperat sibi quisque fortunam, proinde quasi aut plures fortunati sint quam infelices aut certi quicquam sit in rebus humanis aut sperare sit prudentius quam timere. Sed hoc ipsum concedatur, bonis rebus homines morte privari:
By their reckoning, then, the happy life will follow virtue even to torture, and will go down with it into the bull, on the authority of Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, and Polemo, and corrupted by no threats or blandishments will not desert it. The verdict of Callipho and of Diodorus will be the same, since each of them embraces the honorable so as to judge that all things which exist apart from it are to be set far behind it. The rest seem to hold a narrower ground, yet they swim clear all the same — Epicurus, Hieronymus, and any there are who care to defend that deserted Carneadean end; for there is not one of them who does not hold the soul to be the judge of goods, and who does not train it so that it can despise whatever seems good or evil.
ergo etiam carere mortuos vitae commodis idque esse miserum? certe ita dicant necesse est. an potest is, qui non est, re ulla carere? triste enim est nomen ipsum carendi, quia subicitur haec vis: habuit, non habet; desiderat requirit indiget. haec, opinor, incommoda sunt carentis: caret oculis, odiosa caecitas; liberis, orbitas. valet hoc in vivis, mortuorum autem non modo vitae commodis, sed ne vita quidem ipsa quisquam caret. de mortuis loquor, qui nulli sunt: nos, qui sumus, num aut cornibus caremus aut pinnis? ecquis id dixerit? certe nemo. quid ita? quia, cum id non habeas quod tibi nec usu nec natura sit aptum, non careas, etiamsi sentias te non habere.
For the case that seems to you Epicurus’s will be the same as Hieronymus’s and Carneades’s, and, by Hercules, that of all the rest. For who is too little prepared against death or pain? Let us begin, if you please, with the man whom we call soft, whom we call a pleasure-seeker. What? Does he seem to you to fear death or pain — he who calls the very day on which he dies a happy one, and who, struck by the greatest pains, confounds those very pains by the memory and recollection of his own discoveries? And he does not handle this in such a way as to seem to be merely babbling off the cuff. For about death he holds this view: that when the living being is dissolved, sensation is extinguished, and that what is without sensation he judges to be nothing to us. As for pain, likewise, he has fixed principles to follow: he consoles its severity by its brevity, and its long duration by its lightness.
hoc premendum etiam atque etiam est et urguendum confirmato illo, de quo, si mortales animi sunt, dubitare non possumus, quin tantus interitus in morte sit, ut ne minima quidem suspicio sensus relinquatur—hoc igitur probe stabilito et fixo illud excutiendum est, ut sciatur, quid sit carere, ne relinquatur aliquid erroris in verbo. carere igitur hoc significat: egere eo quod habere velis; inest enim velle in carendo, nisi cum sic tamquam in febri dicitur alia quadam notione verbi. dicitur enim alio modo etiam carere, cum aliquid non habeas et non habere te sentias, etiamsi id facile patiare. ita carere in morte non dicitur; nec enim esset dolendum; dicitur illud: bono carere, quod est malum. sed ne vivus quidem bono caret, si eo non indiget; sed in vivo intellegi tamen potest regno te carere—dici autem hoc in te satis subtiliter non potest; posset in Tarquinio, cum regno esset expulsus—: at in mortuo ne intellegi quidem. carere enim sentientis est; nec sensus in mortuo: ne carere quidem igitur in mortuo est. Quamquam quid opus est in hoc philosophari, cum rem non magnopere philosophia egere videamus?
How, after all, do those grandiloquent ones stand against these two things, which most torment us, better than Epicurus? And as for the other things that are reckoned evils — do not Epicurus and the rest of the philosophers seem prepared enough against them too? Who does not dread poverty? Yet not one of the philosophers does. And this very man himself — with how little is he content! No one has said more about a thin diet. For the things that bring on a craving for money — that there be means enough to supply love, ambition, and daily expenses — since he stands far off from all of these, why should he greatly long for money, or rather, why should he care for it at all?
quotiens non modo ductores nostri, sed universi etiam exercitus ad non dubiam mortem concurrerunt! quae quidem si timeretur, non Lucius Brutus arcens eum reditu tyrannum, quem ipse expulerat, in proelio concidisset; non cum Latinis decertans pater Decius, cum Etruscis filius, cum Pyrrho nepos se hostium telis obiecissent; non uno bello pro patria cadentis Scipiones Hispania vidisset, Paulum et Geminum Cannae, Venusia Marcellum, Litana Albinum, Lucani Gracchum. num quis horum miser hodie? ne tum quidem post spiritum extremum; nec enim potest esse miser quisquam sensu perempto.
Could the Scythian Anacharsis count money as nothing, and our own countrymen, the philosophers, not be able to do it? A letter of his is handed down in these words: Anacharsis to Hanno, greetings. My clothing is a Scythian hide, the soles of my feet their own hardened skin, my bed the earth, my relish hunger; I live on milk, cheese, and meat. So you may come to me as to a man at peace. But those gifts of yours, in which you took such delight, give them to your fellow citizens or to the immortal gods. Nearly all the philosophers of every school — except those whom a flawed nature had twisted away from right reason — could be of this same mind.
’At id ipsum odiosum est, sine sensu esse.’ odiosum, si id esset carere; cum vero perspicuum sit nihil posse in eo esse qui ipse non sit, quid potest esse in eo odiosum qui nec careat nec sentiat? quamquam hoc quidem nimis saepe, sed eo quod in hoc inest omnis animi contractio ex metu mortis. qui enim satis viderit, id quod est luce clarius, animo et corpore consumpto totoque animante deleto et facto interitu universo illud animal, quod fuerit, factum esse nihil, is plane perspiciet inter Hippocentaurum, qui numquam fuerit, et regem Agamemnonem nihil interesse, nec pluris nunc facere M. Camillum hoc civile bellum, quam ego illo vivo fecerim Romam captam. Cur igitur et Camillus doleret, si haec post trecentos et quinquaginta fere annos eventura putaret, et ego doleam, si ad decem milia annorum gentem aliquam urbe nostra potituram putem? quia tanta caritas patriae est, ut eam non sensu nostro, sed salute ipsius metiamur. itaque non deterret sapientem mors,
Socrates, when a great mass of gold and silver was being carried past in a procession, said: "How many things there are that I do not want!" Xenocrates, when envoys from Alexander had brought him fifty talents — a sum that in those days, and at Athens above all, was very large — took the envoys off to dinner in the Academy; he set before them just so much as was enough, with no display. When on the next day they asked him to whom he wished the money paid out, he said: "What? Did you not understand from yesterday’s modest little supper that I have no need of money?" And seeing that they looked rather downcast, he accepted thirty minas, so as not to seem to scorn the king’s generosity.
quae propter incertos casus cotidie imminet, propter brevitatem vitae numquam potest longe abesse, quo minus in omne tempus rei p. suisque consulat, cum posteritatem ipsam, cuius sensum habiturus non sit, ad se putet pertinere. quare licet etiam mortalem esse animum iudicantem aeterna moliri, non gloriae cupiditate, quam sensurus non sis, sed virtutis, quam necessario gloria, etiamsi tu id non agas, consequatur. Natura vero si se sic habet, ut, quo modo initium nobis rerum omnium ortus noster adferat, sic exitum mors, ut nihil pertinuit ad nos ante ortum, sic nihil post mortem pertinebit. in quo quid potest esse mali, cum mors nec ad vivos pertineat nec ad mortuos?
But Diogenes spoke more freely, as a Cynic should: when Alexander asked him to say if he wanted anything, "Just now," he said, "move a little out of my sun." Alexander had, it seems, blocked the light as he was warming himself. And this man used to argue how far he surpassed the king of the Persians in his life and his fortune: that he himself lacked nothing, while for the king nothing would ever be enough; that he did not crave the king’s pleasures, with which the king could never be satisfied, whereas the king could in no way attain his own. You see, I imagine, how Epicurus divided the kinds of cravings — not too subtly, perhaps, but usefully all the same:
alteri nulli sunt, alteros non attinget. quam qui leviorem faciunt, somni simillimam volunt esse: quasi vero quisquam ita nonaginta annos velit vivere, ut, cum sexaginta confecerit, reliquos dormiat; ne sui quidem id velint, non modo ipse. Endymion vero, si fabulas audire volumus, ut nescio quando in Latmo obdormivit, qui est mons Cariae, nondum, opinor, est experrectus. num igitur eum curare censes, cum Luna laboret, a qua consopitus putatur, ut eum dormientem oscularetur? quid curet autem, qui ne sentit quidem? habes somnum imaginem mortis eamque cotidie induis: et dubitas quin sensus in morte nullus sit, cum in eius simulacro videas esse nullum sensum?
some are natural and necessary, some natural and not necessary, some neither; the necessary ones can be satisfied at almost no cost — for nature’s riches are easily come by; the second kind of cravings, he holds, are neither hard to gratify nor hard to go without; the third kind, since they were plainly empty and touched neither necessity nor even nature, he thought should be thrown out root and branch.
Pellantur ergo istae ineptiae paene aniles, ante tempus mori miserum esse. quod tandem tempus? naturaene? at ea quidem dedit usuram vitae tamquam pecuniae nulla praestituta die. quid est igitur quod querare, si repetit, cum volt? ea enim condicione acceperas. Idem, si puer parvus occidit, aequo animo ferendum putant, si vero in cunis, ne querendum quidem. atqui ab hoc acerbius exegit natura quod dederat. nondum gustaverat, inquit, vitae suavitatem; hic autem iam sperabat magna, quibus frui coeuperat. at id quidem in ceteris rebus melius putatur, aliquam partem quam nullam attingere: cur in vita secus? (quamquam non male ait Callimachus multo saepius lacrimasse Priamum quam Troilum). eorum autem, qui exacta aetate moriuntur, fortuna laudatur.
On this point the Epicureans say a great deal, and they belittle one by one those pleasures whose kinds they do not despise, yet whose abundance they do not seek. For even the pleasures of the flesh, on which they hold forth at length, they call easy, common, set out for all in plain reach; and they hold that, if nature requires them, they are to be measured not by family or place or rank, but by good looks, youth, and figure; that to abstain from them is by no means difficult, if health or duty or reputation demands it; and that this whole class of pleasures is, in short, desirable when it does no harm, but never beneficial.
cur? nam, reor, nullis, si vita longior daretur, posset esse iucundior; nihil enim est profecto homini prudentia dulcius, quam, ut cetera auferat, adfert certe senectus. Quae vero aetas longa est, aut quid omnino homini longum? nonne Mo/do pueros, modo a/dulescentes i/n cursu a tergo i/nsequens Ne/c opinantis a/dsecuta est senectus? sed quia ultra nihil habemus, hoc longum dicimus. Omnia ista, perinde ut cuique data sunt pro rata parte, ita aut longa aut brevia dicuntur. apud Hypanim fluvium, qui ab Europae parte in Pontum influit, Aristoteles ait bestiolas quasdam nasci, quae unum diem vivant. ex his igitur hora VIII quae mortua est, provecta aetate mortua est; quae vero occidente sole, decrepita, eo magis, si etiam solstitiali die. confer nostram longissimam aetatem cum aeternitate: in eadem propemodum brevitate qua illae bestiolae reperiemur.
And on this whole matter of pleasure his teaching is this: that pleasure itself, in and of itself, because it is pleasure, is always to be desired and sought after, and that by the same reasoning pain, for that very reason, because it is pain, is always to be fled; and so the wise man will employ a kind of balancing, fleeing a pleasure if it is going to produce a greater pain, and taking on a pain if it produces a greater pleasure; and that all delights, though they are judged by the senses of the body, are nonetheless referred back to the mind.
Contemnamus igitur omnis ineptias—quod enim levius huic levitati nomen inponam? —totamque vim bene vivendi in animi robore ac magnitudine et in omnium rerum humanarum contemptione ac despicientia et in omni virtute ponamus. nam nunc quidem cogitationibus mollissimis effeminamur, ut, si ante mors adventet quam Chaldaeorum promissa consecuti sumus, spoliati magnis quibusdam bonis, inlusi destitutique videamur.
For this reason the body rejoices only so long as it feels the pleasure present to it, while the mind both perceives the present pleasure together with the body and looks ahead to the one that is coming, and does not let the past one slip away. Thus the wise man will always have unbroken, interwoven pleasures, since the expectation of pleasures hoped for is joined to the memory of pleasures already enjoyed.
quodsi expectando et desiderando pendemus animis, cruciamur, angimur, pro di inmortales, quam illud iter iucundum esse debet, quo confecto nulla reliqua cura, nulla sollicitudo futura sit! quam me delectat Theramenes! quam elato animo est! etsi enim flemus, cum legimus, tamen non miserabiliter vir clarus emoritur: qui cum coniectus in carcerem triginta iussu tyrannorum venenum ut sitiens obduxisset, reliquum sic e poculo eiecit, ut id resonaret, quo sonitu reddito adridens propino inquit hoc pulchro Critiae, qui in eum fuerat taeterrimus. Graeci enim in conviviis solent nominare, cui poculum tradituri sint. lusit vir egregius extremo spiritu, cum iam praecordiis conceptam mortem contineret, vereque ei, cui venenum praebiberat, mortem eam est auguratus, quae brevi consecuta est. Quis hanc maximi animi aequitatem in ipsa morte laudaret, si mortem malum iudicaret?
And points like these are carried over to the matter of diet as well, and the magnificence and extravagance of banquets is belittled, on the ground that nature is content with little upkeep. For who does not see that all such things are seasoned by appetite? Darius, in his flight, when he had drunk water that was muddy and fouled with corpses, declared that he had never drunk anything more pleasant. He had simply never drunk while thirsty before. Nor had Ptolemy ever eaten while hungry: when, as he was traveling across Egypt and his companions had not kept up with him, he was given coarse bread in a hut, nothing seemed to him more pleasant than that bread. They say that Socrates, when he had walked rather briskly until evening and was asked why he was doing it, replied that he was foraging up an appetite by walking, so as to dine the better.
vadit enim in eundem carcerem atque in eundem paucis post annis scyphum Socrates, eodem scelere iudicum quo tyrannorum Theramenes. quae est igitur eius oratio, qua facit eum Plato usum apud iudices iam morte multatum? magna me inquit “spes tenet, iudices, bene mihi evenire, quod mittar ad mortem. necesse est enim sit alterum de duobus, ut aut sensus omnino omnes mors auferat aut in alium quendam locum ex his locis morte migretur. quam ob rem, sive sensus extinguitur morsque ei somno similis est, qui non numquam etiam sine visis somniorum placatissimam quietem adfert, di boni, quid lucri est emori! aut quam multi dies reperiri possunt, qui tali nocti anteponantur! cui si similis est perpetuitas omnis consequentis temporis, quis me beatior?
And again — do we not see the diet of the Spartans at their common messes? There the tyrant Dionysius, when he had dined, declared that he took no delight in that black broth which was the centerpiece of the meal. Then the man who had cooked it said: "No wonder; the seasonings were missing." "What seasonings, pray?" he asked. "Toil in the hunt, sweat, a run to the Eurotas, hunger, thirst. For it is by these that the meals of the Spartans are seasoned." And this can be understood not from the way of men alone, but from the beasts as well, which, whenever something is set before them that is not foreign to their nature, are content with it and seek nothing more.
sin vera sunt quae dicuntur, migrationem esse mortem in eas oras, quas qui e vita excesserunt incolunt, id multo iam beatius est. tene, cum ab is, qui se iudicum numero haberi volunt, evaseris, ad eos venire, qui vere iudices appellentur, Minoem Rhadamanthum Aeacum Triptolemum, convenireque eos qui iuste et cum fide vixerint— haec peregrinatio mediocris vobis videri potest? ut vero conloqui cum Orpheo Musaeo Homero Hesiodo liceat, quanti tandem aestimatis? equidem saepe emori, si fieri posset, vellem, ut ea quae dico mihi liceret invisere. quanta delectatione autem adficerer, cum Palamedem, cum Aiacem, cum alios iudicio iniquo circumventos convenirem! temptarem etiam summi regis, qui maximas copias duxit ad Troiam, et Ulixi Sisyphique prudentiam, nec ob eam rem, cum haec exquirerem sicut hic faciebam, capite damnarer.—Ne vos quidem, iudices i qui me absolvistis, mortem timueritis.
Whole communities, schooled by custom, take delight in thrift, as we said a little while ago of the Spartans. The diet of the Persians is set out by Xenophon, who says that to their bread they add nothing but cress. And yet, if nature should desire certain things more agreeable as well, how many such are produced from the earth and the trees, both in easy abundance and of surpassing sweetness! Add the leanness that follows upon this restraint in diet, add the soundness of health; then compare the men who sweat and belch, stuffed with banquets like fattened cattle:
nec enim cuiquam bono mali quicquam evenire potest nec vivo nec mortuo, nec umquam eius res a dis inmortalibus neglegentur, nec mihi ipsi hoc accidit fortuito. nec vero ego is, a quibus accusatus aut a quibus condemnatus sum, habeo quod suscenseam, nisi quod mihi nocere se crediderunt.” et haec quidem hoc modo; nihil autem melius extremo: sed tempus est inquit iam hinc abire, me, ut moriar, vos, ut vitam agatis. utrum autem sit melius, dii inmortales sciunt, hominem quidem scire arbitror neminem. Ne ego haud paulo hunc animum malim quam eorum omnium fortunas, qui de hoc iudicaverunt. etsi, quod praeter deos negat scire quemquam, id scit ipse utrum sit melius—nam dixit ante—, sed suum illud, nihil ut adfirmet, tenet ad extremum;
you will understand then that those who pursue pleasure most attain it least, and that the pleasantness of a diet lies in appetite, not in being sated. They say that Timotheus, a famous man at Athens and a leader of the state, when he had dined at Plato’s and had been quite delighted with the meal, said on seeing him the next day: "Your dinners, to be sure, are pleasant not only at the moment but the day after as well." And what of the fact that we cannot even use our minds properly when we are filled with too much food and drink? There is a celebrated letter of Plato’s to the kinsmen of Dion, in which it is written more or less in these words: "When I had come there, that life called happy, full of Italian and Syracusan tables, in no way pleased me — to be stuffed twice a day and never to spend a night alone, and all the rest that accompanies a life in which no one will ever be made wise, and a man of moderation far less. For what nature can be so marvelously tempered?"
nos autem teneamus, ut nihil censeamus esse malum, quod sit a natura datum omnibus, intellegamusque, si mors malum sit, esse sempiternum malum. nam vitae miserae mors finis esse videtur; mors si est misera, finis esse nullus potest. Sed quid ego Socratem aut Theramenem, praestantis viros virtutis et sapientiae gloria, commemoro, cum Lacedaemonius quidam, cuius ne nomen quidem proditum est, mortem tantopere contempserit, ut, cum ad eam duceretur damnatus ab ephoris et esset voltu hilari atque laeto dixissetque ei quidam inimicus: contemnisne leges Lycurgi?, responderit: ego vero illi maximam gratiam habeo, qui me ea poena multaverit, quam sine mutuatione et sine versura possem dissolvere. o virum Sparta dignum! ut mihi quidem, qui tam magno animo fuerit, innocens damnatus esse videatur. talis innumerabilis nostra civitas tulit.
How, then, can a life be pleasant from which good sense is absent, from which moderation is absent? From this the folly of Sardanapalus, the richest king of Syria, is laid bare, who ordered to be cut on his tomb: What I ate I have, and what my glutted lust drank up; but those many splendid things lie left behind. "What else," says Aristotle, "would you inscribe on the tomb of an ox rather than of a king?" He says that, dead, he has those things which, even alive, he had no longer than he was enjoying them.
sed quid duces et principes nominem, cum legiones scribat Cato saepe alacris in eum locum profectas, unde redituras se non arbitrarentur? pari animo Lacedaemonii in Thermopylis occiderunt, in quos Simonides: Dic, hospes, Spartae nos te hic vidisse iacentis, Dum sanctis patriae legibus obsequimur. quid ille dux Leonidas dicit? pergite animo forti, Lacedaemonii, hodie apud inferos fortasse cenabimus. fuit haec gens fortis, dum Lycurgi leges vigebant. e quibus unus, cum Perses hostis in conloquio dixisset glorians: solem prae iaculorum multitudine et sagittarum non videbitis, in umbra igitur inquit pugnabimus.
Why, then, should riches be longed for, or where does poverty not permit men to be happy? You are keen, I suppose, on statues and paintings. If there is anyone who delights in these, do not men of slender means enjoy them better than those who have them in abundance? For of all such things there is in our city the greatest supply in public places. Those who own them privately neither see so many of them, and see them rarely, only when they have come to their country estates; and even so something pricks them, when they recall from where they have them. The day would fail me, were I to undertake to plead the case of poverty. The matter is plain, and nature herself reminds us daily how few, how small, how cheap are the things she needs. Will obscurity, then, or low birth, or even the disfavor of the crowd, keep the wise man from being happy?
viros commemoro: qualis tandem Lacaena? quae cum filium in proelium misisset et interfectum audisset, idcirco inquit genueram, ut esset, qui pro patria mortem non dubitaret occumbere. Esto: fortes et duri Spartiatae; magnam habet vim rei p. disciplina. quid? Cyrenaeum Theodorum, philosophum non ignobilem, nonne miramur? cui cum Lysimachus rex crucem minaretur, istis, quaeso inquit ista horribilia minitare purpuratis tuis: Theodori quidem nihil interest, humine an sublime putescat. Cuius hoc dicto admoneor, ut aliquid etiam de humatione et sepultura dicendum existimem, rem non difficilem, is praesertim cognitis, quae de nihil sentiendo paulo ante dicta sunt. de qua Socrates quidem quid senserit, apparet in eo libro in quo moritur, de quo iam tam multa diximus.
Consider whether favor with the crowd and this glory that men strive for do not bring more vexation than pleasure. Our Demosthenes was decidedly vain, who said that he was delighted by the whisper of a little woman carrying water — as the custom is in Greece — murmuring to her neighbor: "That is the famous Demosthenes." What could be more trifling than this? And yet what an orator! But he had clearly learned to speak before others, not much with himself.
cum enim de inmortalitate animorum disputavisset et iam moriendi tempus urgeret, rogatus a Critone, quem ad modum sepeliri vellet, multam vero inquit operam, amici, frustra consumpsi; Critoni enim nostro non persuasi me hinc avolaturum neque mei quicquam relicturum. verum tamen, Crito, si me adsequi potueris aut sicubi nanctus eris, ut tibi videbitur, sepelito. sed, mihi crede, nemo me vestrum, cum hinc excessero, consequetur. praeclare is quidem, qui et amico permiserit et se ostenderit de hoc toto genere nihil laborare.
We must understand, then, that popular glory is not in itself to be sought, nor obscurity to be dreaded. "I came to Athens," says Democritus, "and no one there recognized me" — a steady and serious man, who could glory in having been free of glory! Or shall pipers and those who play the lyre tune their melodies and rhythms by their own judgment, not the multitude’s, while the wise man, endowed with a far greater art, will seek out not what is truest but what the crowd wants? Or is there anything more foolish than to suppose that men who, taken one by one, you would despise as laborers and barbarians, amount to something taken all together? He, in truth, will despise our ambitions and our frivolities, and will reject the honors of the people even when they are offered unasked; but we do not know how to despise them until we have begun to regret them. There is a passage in Heraclitus the natural philosopher about Hermodorus, the foremost man of the Ephesians;
durior Diogenes, et is quidem eadem sentiens, sed ut Cynicus asperius: proici se iussit inhumatum. tum amici: volucribusne et feris? minime vero inquit, sed bacillum propter me, quo abigam, ponitote. qui poteris? illi, non enim senties. quid igitur mihi ferarum laniatus oberit nihil sentienti? praeclare Anaxagoras, qui cum Lampsaci moreretur, quaerentibus amicis, velletne Clazomenas in patriam, si quid accidisset, auferri, nihil necesse est inquit, undique enim ad inferos tantundem viae est. totaque de ratione humationis unum tenendum est, ad corpus illam pertinere, sive occiderit animus sive vigeat. in corpore autem perspicuum est vel extincto animo vel elapso nullum residere sensum. Sed plena errorum sunt omnia.
he says that all the Ephesians deserve to be put to death, because, when they drove Hermodorus from the city, they spoke thus: "Let no single one of us stand out; if anyone does, let him be in another place and among other men." Does this not happen so among every people? Do they not hate all preeminence in virtue? What of Aristides — for I prefer to bring forward examples from the Greeks rather than our own — was he not banished from his country for this very reason, that he was just beyond measure? How free, then, from vexations are those who have no dealings at all with the people! For what is sweeter than a leisure given to letters? — letters, I mean, by which we come to know the boundlessness of things and of nature, and, within this very world of ours, the heaven, the lands, the seas. With honor scorned, then, and money scorned as well, what is left that should be dreaded?
trahit Hectorem ad currum religatum Achilles: lacerari eum et sentire, credo, putat. ergo hic ulciscitur, ut quidem sibi videtur; at illa sicut acerbissimam rem maeret: Vidi/, videre quo/d me passa aege/rrume, Hecto/rem curru qua/driiugo rapta/rier. quem Hectorem, aut quam diu ille erit Hector? melius Accius et aliquando sapiens Achilles: Immo enimvero co/rpus Priamo re/ddidi, Hectora a/bstuli. non igitur Hectora traxisti, sed corpus quod fuerat Hectoris.
Exile, I suppose — which is reckoned among the greatest evils. But if it is an evil on account of the hostility and ill will of the people toward another man, how worthy of contempt that is has just been said a moment ago. And if it is wretched to be away from one’s country, the provinces are full of wretched men, of whom very few ever return home.
ecce alius exoritur e terra, qui matrem dormire non sinat: Mate/r, te appello, tu/, quae curam so/mno suspensa/m levas, Neque te/ mei miseret, su/rge et sepeli na/tum—! haec cum pressis et flebilibus modis, qui totis theatris maestitiam inferant, concinuntur, difficile est non eos qui inhumati sint miseros iudicare. prius qua/m ferae volucre/sque— metuit, ne laceratis membris minus bene utatur; ne combustis, non extimescit. Neu re/liquias seme/sas sireis de/nudatis o/ssibus Per te/rram sanie de/libutas foe/de divexa/rier— non intellego, quid metuat, cum tam bonos septenarios fundat ad tibiam. Tenendum est igitur nihil curandum esse post mortem, cum multi inimicos etiam mortuos poeniuntur. exsecratur luculentis sane versibus apud Ennium Thyestes, primum ut naufragio pereat Atreus: durum hoc sane; talis enim interitus non est sine gravi sensu; illa inania: Ipse summis sa/xis fixus a/speris, evi/sceratus, La/tere pendens, sa/xa spargens ta/bo, sanie et sa/nguine atro—
"But exiles are stripped of their goods." What of it? Has not enough been said about enduring poverty? And as for exile itself, if we look to the nature of the thing and not to the disgrace of the name, how much, after all, does it differ from a perpetual residence abroad? In such a life the most distinguished philosophers spent their days — Xenocrates, Crantor, Arcesilas, Lacydes, Aristotle, Theophrastus, Zeno, Cleanthes, Chrysippus, Antipater, Carneades, Clitomachus, Philo, Antiochus, Panaetius, Posidonius, and countless others, who once they had set out never returned home. But exile carries disgrace, you say. Can exile touch the wise man with disgrace? For this whole discourse is about the wise man, on whom it cannot justly fall; and there is no need to console one who is justly exiled.
non ipsa saxa magis sensu omni vacabunt quam ille latere pendens, cui se hic cruciatum censet optare. quae essent dura, si sentiret, sunt nulla sine sensu. illud vero perquam inane: Ne/que sepulcrum, quo/ recipiat, ha/beat, portum co/rporis, U/bi remissa huma/na vita co/rpus requiesca/t malis. vides, quanto haec in errore versentur: portum esse corporis et requiescere in sepulcro putat mortuum; magna culpa Pelopis, qui non erudierit filium nec docuerit, quatenus esset quidque curandum.
Lastly, those who refer to pleasure everything that comes about in life have the readiest reckoning for every circumstance, since wherever pleasure is supplied, there they can live happily. And so the saying of Teucer can be adapted to every situation: My country is wherever it goes well with me. Socrates indeed, when he was asked what country he claimed as his own, said, "The world"; for he held himself to be an inhabitant and a citizen of the whole world. And what of Titus Albucius? Did he not philosophize at Athens, an exile, with the most untroubled spirit? Yet even that would not have befallen him, had he kept quiet in public life and obeyed the precepts of Epicurus.
Sed quid singulorum opiniones animadvertam, nationum varios errores perspicere cum liceat? condiunt Aegyptii mortuos et eos servant domi; Persae etiam cera circumlitos condunt, ut quam maxime permaneant diuturna corpora. Magorum mos est non humare corpora suorum, nisi a feris sint ante laniata; in Hyrcania plebs publicos alit canes, optumates domesticos: nobile autem genus canum illud scimus esse, sed pro sua quisque facultate parat a quibus lanietur, eamque optumam illi esse censent sepulturam. permulta alia colligit Chrysippus, ut est in omni historia curiosus, sed ita taetra sunt quaedam, ut ea fugiat et reformidet oratio. totus igitur hic locus est contemnendus in nobis, non neglegendus in nostris, ita tamen, ut mortuorum corpora nihil sentire vivi sentiamus;
For how was Epicurus the happier because he lived in his own country, than Metrodorus because he lived at Athens? Or did Plato surpass Xenocrates, or Polemo Arcesilas, in being any happier for it? And how much is that state to be valued from which good and wise men are driven out? Damaratus, indeed, the father of our king Tarquin, because he could not endure the tyrant Cypselus, fled from Corinth to Tarquinii, and there established his fortunes and begot children. Did he choose foolishly when he preferred the freedom of exile to servitude at home?
quantum autem consuetudini famaeque dandum sit, id curent vivi, sed ita, ut intellegant nihil id ad mortuos pertinere. Sed profecto mors tum aequissimo animo oppetitur, cum suis se laudibus vita occidens consolari potest. nemo parum diu vixit, qui virtutis perfectae perfecto functus est munere. multa mihi ipsi ad mortem tempestiva fuerunt. quam utinam potuissem obire! nihil enim iam adquirebatur, cumulata erant officia vitae, cum fortuna bella restabant. quare si ipsa ratio minus perficiat, ut mortem neglegere possimus, at vita acta perficiat, ut satis superque vixisse videamur. quamquam enim sensus abierit, tamen suis et propriis bonis laudis et gloriae, quamvis non sentiant, mortui non carent. etsi enim nihil habet in se gloria cur expetatur, tamen virtutem tamquam umbra sequitur.
Furthermore, the agitations of the mind, its anxieties and its griefs, are soothed by forgetfulness when minds are drawn off toward pleasure. Not without reason, then, did Epicurus venture to say that the wise man is always in the midst of more goods, because he is always in the midst of pleasures. From which he thinks it follows — the very thing we are after — that the wise man is always happy.
verum multitudinis iudicium de bonis bonum si quando est, magis laudandum est quam illi ob eam rem beati. non possum autem dicere, quoquo modo hoc accipietur, Lycurgum Solonem legum et publicae disciplinae carere gloria, Themistoclem Epaminondam bellicae virtutis. ante enim Salamina ipsam Neptunus obruet quam Salaminii tropaei memoriam, priusque e Boeotia Leuctra tollentur quam pugnae Leuctricae gloria. multo autem tardius fama deseret Curium Fabricium Calatinum, duo Scipiones duo Africanos, Maximum Marcellum Paulum, Catonem Laelium, innumerabilis alios; quorum similitudinem aliquam qui arripuerit, non eam fama populari, sed vera bonorum laude metiens, fidenti animo, si ita res feret, gradietur ad mortem; in qua aut summum bonum aut nullum malum esse cognovimus. secundis vero suis rebus volet etiam mori; non enim tam cumulus bonorum iucundus esse potest quam molesta decessio. hanc sententiam significare videtur Laconis illa vox, qui, cum Rhodius Diagoras, Olympionices nobilis, uno die duo suos filios victores Olympiae vidisset, accessit ad senem et gratulatus:
"Even if he is robbed of the use of his eyes, or his ears?" Even then; for those very things he despises. For, first of all, of what pleasures, after all, does that dreaded blindness deprive him? Some even argue that the other pleasures reside in the senses themselves, but that the things perceived by sight have no dealings with any delight of the eyes; so that what we taste, smell, handle, and hear are dealt with in that very part where we perceive them. With the eyes nothing of the sort happens: the mind takes in what we see. But the mind can be delighted in many and various ways, even when sight is not brought to bear. For I am speaking of a learned and cultivated man, for whom to live is to think. And the wise man’s thought does not, as a rule, call in the eyes as helpers for its inquiries.
’morere, Diagora’ inquit; non enim in caelum ascensurus es. magna haec, et nimium fortasse, Graeci putant vel tum potius putabant, isque, qui hoc Diagorae dixit, permagnum existimans tris Olympionicas una e domo prodire cunctari illum diutius in vita fortunae obiectum inutile putabat ipsi. Ego autem tibi quidem, quod satis esset, paucis verbis, ut mihi videbar, responderam—concesseras enim nullo in malo mortuos esse—; sed ob eam causam contendi ut plura dicerem, quod in desiderio et luctu haec est consolatio maxima. nostrum enim et nostra causa susceptum dolorem modice ferre debemus, ne nosmet ipsos amare videamur; illa suspicio intolerabili dolore cruciat, si opinamur eos quibus orbati sumus esse cum aliquo sensu in is malis quibus volgo opinantur. hanc excutere opinionem mihimet volui radicitus, eoque fui fortasse longior. Tu longior?
For indeed, if night does not take away the happy life, why should a day like night take it away? For that saying of Antipater of Cyrene is a little too coarse, but the thought is not absurd: when some women were lamenting his blindness, he said, "What are you about? Does no pleasure seem to you to belong to the night?" That old Appius, too, who was blind for many years — we understand from his offices and his achievements that in that misfortune of his he failed in no duty either private or public. We have it on record that the house of Gaius Drusus used to be thronged with men seeking his counsel; when those whose business it was could not see their own affairs, they took a blind man for their guide. When we were boys, Gnaeus Aufidius, a former praetor, used to deliver his opinion in the Senate, was never wanting to friends seeking his advice, wrote a history in Greek, and saw with his letters.
non mihi quidem. prior enim pars orationis tuae faciebat, ut mori cuperem, posterior, ut modo non nollem, modo non laborarem; omni autem oratione illud certe perfectum est, ut mortem non ducerem in malis. Num igitur etiam rhetorum epilogum desideramus? an hanc iam artem plane relinquimus? Tu vero istam ne reliqueris, quam semper ornasti, et quidem iure; illa enim te, verum si loqui volumus, ornaverat. sed quinam est iste epilogus? aveo enim audire, quicquid est.
Diodotus the Stoic lived in our house for many years, blind. He, indeed — a thing scarcely credible — applied himself to philosophy far more assiduously even than before, played the lyre after the manner of the Pythagoreans, had books read to him night and day, and for these studies had no need of eyes; and, what seems scarcely possible to be done without eyes, he kept up the work of geometry, instructing his pupils in words from where to where they should draw each line. They tell of Asclepiades, no obscure philosopher of Eretria, that when someone asked what blindness had brought him, he answered: that he went about with one boy more in his train. For just as even the extreme of poverty would be bearable, if a man were allowed what some Greeks earn day by day, so blindness could be borne easily, if the supports for one’s infirmities were not lacking.
Deorum inmortalium iudicia solent in scholis proferre de morte, nec vero ea fingere ipsi, sed Herodoto auctore aliisque pluribus. primum Argiae sacerdotis Cleobis et Bito filii praedicantur. nota fabula est. cum enim illam ad sollemne et statu tu m sacrificium curru vehi ius esset satis longe ab oppido ad fanum morarenturque iumenta, tum iuvenes i quos modo nominavi veste posita corpora oleo perunxerunt, ad iugum accesserunt. ita sacerdos advecta in fanum, cum currus esset ductus a filiis, precata a dea dicitur, ut id illis praemii daret pro pietate, quod maxumum homini dari posset a deo; post epulatos cum matre adulescentis somno se dedisse, mane inventos esse mortuos.
Democritus, having lost his sight, could not, to be sure, tell white from black; but good from bad, just from unjust, honorable from base, useful from useless, great from small, that he could; and without the variety of colors it was possible to live happily, but without the knowledge of things it was not. And this man held that the mind’s keen edge is even hindered by the sight of the eyes; and while others often could not see what lay before their feet, he ranged abroad through all infinity, halting at no farthest boundary. It is handed down too that Homer was blind; yet we look upon his painting, not his poetry. What region, what coast, what spot of Greece, what shape and form of battle, what battle-line, what fleet, what movements of men and of beasts has he not so vividly depicted that he made us see the very things he himself did not see? What then? Are we to suppose that Homer, or any learned man, was ever wanting in delight and pleasure of the mind?
simili precatione Trophonius et Agamedes usi dicuntur; qui cum Apollini Delphis templum exaedificavissent, venerantes deum petiverunt mercedem non parvam quidem operis et laboris sui: nihil certi, sed quod esset optimum homini. quibus Apollo se id daturum ostendit post eius diei diem tertium; qui ut inluxit, mortui sunt reperti. iudicavisse deum dicunt, et eum quidem deum, cui reliqui dii concessissent, ut praeter ceteros divinaret. adfertur etiam de Sileno fabella quaedam; qui cum a Mida captus esset, hoc ei muneris pro sua missione dedisse scribitur: docuisse regem non nasci homini longe optimum esse, proximum autem quam primum mori.
Or, were the matter not so, would Anaxagoras, or this same Democritus, have abandoned their fields and their patrimonies, and given themselves wholeheartedly to this divine delight of learning and inquiry? And so the augur Tiresias, whom the poets imagine as a wise man, they never bring on bewailing his blindness; whereas Homer, having made Polyphemus monstrous and savage, has him even converse with his ram and praise its good fortune, in that it could go where it pleased and reach what it pleased. And rightly so; for the Cyclops himself was no wiser than that ram.
qua est sententia in Cresphonte usus Euripides: Nam no/s decebat coe/tus celebranti/s domum Luge/re, ubi esset a/liquis in lucem e/ditus, Huma/nae vitae va/ria reputanti/s mala; At, qui/ labores mo/rte finisse/t gravis, Hunc o/mni amicos lau/de et laetitia e/xsequi. simile quiddam est in Consolatione Crantoris: ait enim Terinaeum quendam Elysium, cum graviter filii mortem maereret, venisse in psychomantium quaerentem, quae fuisset tantae calamitatis causa; huic in tabellis tris huius modi versiculos datos: Ignaris homines in vita mentibus errant: Euthynous potitur fatorum numine leto. Sic fuit utilius finiri ipsique tibique.
In deafness, again, what evil is there, after all? Marcus Crassus was rather hard of hearing, but there was something more vexing to him — that he heard ill spoken of, even if, as it seemed to me, unjustly. Our Epicureans, for the most part, know no Greek, nor the Greeks Latin. These men, then, are deaf to the speech of those, and those to the speech of these; and likewise all of us are surely deaf to those tongues we do not understand, which are beyond counting. But the deaf do not hear the voice of the lyre-player. Neither do they hear the screech of the saw when it is being sharpened, nor the grunting of a pig when its throat is cut, nor, when they wish to rest, the roar of the murmuring sea; and if songs perhaps delight them, they ought first to reflect that, before these were invented, many wise men lived happily, and then, that far greater pleasure can be drawn from reading such things than from hearing them.
his et talibus auctoribus usi confirmant causam rebus a diis inmortalibus iudicatam. Alcidamas quidem, rhetor antiquus in primis nobilis, scripsit etiam laudationem mortis, quae constat ex enumeratione humanorum malorum; cui rationes eae quae exquisitius a philosophis colliguntur defuerunt, ubertas orationis non defuit. Clarae vero mortes pro patria oppetitae non solum gloriosae rhetoribus, sed etiam beatae videri solent. repetunt ab Erechtheo, cuius etiam filiae cupide mortem expetiverunt pro vita civium; commemorant Codrum, qui se in medios inmisit hostis veste famulari, ne posset adgnosci, si esset ornatu regio, quod oraculum erat datum, si rex interfectus esset, victrices Athenas fore; Menoeceus non praetermittitur, qui item oraculo edito largitus est patriae suum sanguinem; nam Iphigenia Aulide duci se immolandam iubet, ut hostium eliciatur suo. veniunt inde ad propiora: Harmodius in ore est et Aristogiton; Lacedaemonius Leonidas, Thebanus Epaminondas viget. nostros non norunt, quos enumerare magnum est: ita sunt multi, quibus videmus optabilis mortes fuisse cum gloria. Quae cum ita sint, magna tamen eloquentia est utendum atque ita velut superiore e loco contionandum, ut homines mortem vel optare incipiant vel certe timere desistant?
Then, just as a little while ago we drew the blind across to the pleasure of the ears, so we may draw the deaf across to that of the eyes. For indeed, the man who can converse with himself will not require another’s talk. But let everything be heaped together at once, so that the same man is bereft of both eyes and ears, and let him be crushed besides by the sharpest pains of the body. These, in the first place, generally make an end of a man by themselves; but if perhaps, drawn out by their long duration, they torment him more violently than there is any reason why he should bear them — what is there, after all, good gods, that we should trouble ourselves over? For the harbor is at hand, since death is the same haven there, the eternal refuge of feeling nothing.
nam si supremus ille dies non extinctionem, sed commutationem adfert loci, quid optabilius? sin autem perimit ac delet omnino, quid melius quam in mediis vitae laboribus obdormiscere et ita coniventem somno consopiri sempiterno? quod si fiat, melior Enni quam Solonis oratio. hic enim noster: nemo me lacrimis decoret inquit nec funera fletu faxit! at vero ille sapiens: Mors mea ne careat lacrimis: linquamus amicis Maerorem, ut celebrent funera cum gemitu.
Theodorus, when Lysimachus threatened him with death, said, "A great thing indeed you have accomplished, if you have come by the power of a blister-beetle." Paulus, when Perseus begged not to be led in the triumph, said, "That, at least, is in your own power." Much was said on the first day, when we were inquiring into death itself, and not a little on the day after as well, when pain was the subject, about death; and whoever calls these things to mind can hardly be in any danger of not judging death either something to be wished for or, at the very least, not to be feared. To me, indeed, that rule which holds at the banquets of the Greeks seems one to keep in life: "Let him drink," it says, "or let him go." And rightly. For either let a man enjoy the pleasure of drinking equally with the rest, or let him withdraw beforehand, lest, while sober, he fall foul of the violence of the drunk. In the same way you may, by flight, leave behind the wrongs of fortune which you cannot bear. These same things that Epicurus says, Hieronymus says in just so many words.
nos vero, si quid tale acciderit, ut a deo denuntiatum videatur ut exeamus e vita, laeti et agentes gratias pareamus emittique nos e custodia et levari vinclis arbitremur, ut aut in aeternam et plane in nostram domum remigremus aut omni sensu molestiaque careamus; sin autem nihil denuntiabitur, eo tamen simus animo, ut horribilem illum diem aliis nobis faustum putemus nihilque in malis ducamus, quod sit vel a diis inmortalibus vel a natura parente omnium constitutum. non enim temere nec fortuito sati et creati sumus, sed profecto fuit quaedam vis, quae generi consuleret humano nec id gigneret aut aleret, quod cum exanclavisset omnes labores, tum incideret in mortis malum sempiternum: portum potius paratum nobis et perfugium putemus.
But if those philosophers whose doctrine it is that virtue of itself has no power, and that everything we call honorable and praiseworthy they call empty and decked out with a hollow sound of words — if even they nonetheless judge the wise man always happy, what then ought to be thought right for the philosophers who set out from Socrates and Plato? Of these, some say there is so great a preeminence in the goods of the mind that the goods of the body and the external things are overwhelmed by them; while others do not even count these as goods at all, but lay everything up in the mind.
quo utinam velis passis pervehi liceat! sin reflantibus ventis reiciemur, tamen eodem paulo tardius referamur necesse est. quod autem omnibus necesse est, idne miserum esse uni potest? Habes epilogum, ne quid praetermissum aut relictum putes. Ego vero, et quidem fecit etiam iste me epilogus firmiorem. Optime, inquam. sed nunc quidem valetudini tribuamus aliquid, cras autem et quot dies erimus in Tusculano, agamus haec et ea potissimum, quae levationem habeant aegritudinum formidinum cupiditatum, qui omnis philosophiae est fructus uberrimus.
This fifth day, Brutus, will bring the Tusculan discussions to their close — the day on which we argued the very question that you, of all of them, most approve. For I have come to see, both from the book you wrote to me with the greatest care and from many conversations of yours, how thoroughly the view pleases you that virtue is sufficient of itself for the happy life. And though this is hard to prove, on account of fortune’s torments, so various and so many, it is nonetheless the kind of thing at which we must labor, that it may be proved the more readily. For among all the matters that philosophy handles, there is nothing that is spoken of with greater weight or grandeur.
Neoptolemus quidem apud Ennium philosophari sibi ait necesse esse, sed paucis; nam omnino haud placere: ego autem, Brute, necesse mihi quidem esse arbitror philosophari—nam quid possum, praesertim nihil agens, agere melius?—sed non paucis, ut ille. difficile est enim in philosophia pauca esse ei nota, cui non sint aut pleraque aut omnia. nam nec pauca nisi e multis eligi possunt nec, qui pauca perceperit, non idem reliqua eodem studio persequetur.
For since this was the cause that drove the first men to apply themselves to the study of philosophy — that, setting all else aside, they devoted themselves wholly to the search for the best condition of life — surely it was in the hope of living happily that they laid out such care and effort upon that study. And if virtue was discovered and brought to perfection by them, and if there is in virtue protection enough for living happily, who is there who would not judge that the work of philosophizing was nobly both undertaken by them and taken up by us? But if virtue, subject to changes various and uncertain, is the handmaid of fortune, and has not strength enough to keep itself secure, then I fear that we ought to lean toward the hope of living happily not so much by confidence in virtue as by the offering of prayers.
sed tamen in vita occupata atque, ut Neoptolemi tum erat, militari pauca ipsa multum saepe prosunt et ferunt fructus, si non tantos quanti ex universa philosophia percipi possunt, tamen eos quibus aliqua ex parte interdum aut cupiditate aut aegritudine aut metu liberemur. velut ex ea disputatione, quae mihi nuper habita est in Tusculano, magna videbatur mortis effecta contemptio, quae non minimum valet ad animum metu liberandum. nam qui id quod vitari non potest metuit, is vivere animo quieto nullo modo potest; sed qui non modo quia necesse est mori, verum etiam quia nihil habet mors quod sit horrendum, mortem non timet, magnum is sibi praesidium ad beatam vitam comparavit.
For my own part, when I consider with myself those reverses by which fortune has so violently exercised me, I begin at times to lose faith in this view, and to dread the weakness and frailty of the human race. For I fear that nature, having given us bodies that are feeble and joined to them diseases beyond cure and pains beyond endurance, may have given us minds as well — minds at once attuned to the pains of the body and, on their own account, entangled in their own anguish and distress.
Quamquam non sumus ignari multos studiose contra esse dicturos; quod vitare nullo modo potuimus, nisi nihil omnino scriberemus. etenim si orationes, quas nos multitudinis iudicio probari volebamus (popularis est enim illa facultas, et effectus eloquentiae est audientium adprobatio )—sed si reperiebantur non nulli, qui nihil laudarent nisi quod se imitari posse confiderent, quemque sperandi sibi, eundem bene dicendi finem proponerent, et cum obruerentur copia sententiarum atque verborum, ieiunitatem et famem se malle quam ubertatem et copiam dicerent, unde erat exortum genus Atticorum is ipsis, qui id sequi se profitebantur, ignotum, qui iam conticuerunt paene ab ipso foro inrisi:
But here I rebuke myself, because from the softness of others, and perhaps of my own, I form my estimate of virtue’s strength, rather than from virtue itself. For virtue — if indeed there is any such thing as virtue, a doubt your uncle, Brutus, swept away — holds beneath itself all that can befall a man; looking down upon these, it scorns the accidents of mortal life, and, free of all fault, it judges that nothing concerns it but itself. We, on the other hand, magnify by fear every adversity as it comes, and by grief every present trouble, and choose to condemn the nature of things rather than our own error.
quid futurum putamus, cum adiutore populo, quo utebamur antea, nunc minime nos uti posse videamus? est enim philosophia paucis contenta iudicibus, multitudinem consulto ipsa fugiens eique ipsi et suspecta et invisa, ut, vel si quis universam velit vituperare, secundo id populo facere possit, vel si in eam quam nos maxime sequimur conetur invadere, magna habere possit auxilia e reliquorum philosophorum disciplinis. Nos autem universae philosophiae vituperatoribus respondimus in Hortensio, pro Academia autem quae dicenda essent, satis accurate in Academicis quattuor libris explicata arbitramur; sed tamen tantum abest ut scribi contra nos nolimus, ut id etiam maxime optemus. in ipsa enim Graecia philosophia tanto in honore numquam fuisset, nisi doctissimorum contentionibus dissensionibusque viguisset.
But the correction of this fault, and of the rest of our vices and sins, must all be sought from philosophy. Into her bosom, from the earliest season of our life, our own will and zeal drove us; and now, in these gravest reverses, tossed by a great tempest, we have fled for refuge to the same harbor from which we set out. O philosophy, guide of life! O searcher-out of virtue and expeller of vices! What, not only could we, but what could the whole life of man have been without you? You gave birth to cities; you called together into the fellowship of life men once scattered; you joined them to one another first by dwellings, then by marriages, then by the sharing of letters and of speech; you were the inventor of laws, you the teacher of morals and of order. To you we flee; from you we ask aid; to you we entrust ourselves — as before in great part, so now wholly and entirely. And one day well spent, by your precepts, is to be preferred to an eternity of wrongdoing.
Quam ob rem hortor omnis, qui facere id possunt, ut huius quoque generis laudem iam languenti Graeciae eripiant et transferant in hanc urbem, sicut reliquas omnis, quae quidem erant expetendae, studio atque industria sua maiores nostri transtulerunt. atque oratorum quidem laus ita ducta ab humili venit ad summum, ut iam, quod natura fert in omnibus fere rebus, senescat brevique tempore ad nihilum ventura videatur, philosophia nascatur Latinis quidem litteris ex his temporibus, eamque nos adiuvemus nosque ipsos redargui refellique patiamur. quod i ferunt animo iniquo, qui certis quibusdam destinatisque sententiis quasi addicti et consecrati sunt eaque necessitate constricti, ut etiam, quae non probare soleant, ea cogantur constantiae causa defendere: nos, qui sequimur probabilia nec ultra quam id quod veri simile occurrit progredi possumus, et refellere sine pertinacia et refelli sine iracundia parati sumus.
Whose resources, then, should we use rather than yours — you who have lavished tranquillity of life upon us and taken away the terror of death? And yet philosophy, so far from being praised in proportion to what she has deserved of the life of man, is by most men neglected and by many even reviled. Does anyone dare to revile the parent of life, and to stain himself with this parricide, and to be so impiously ungrateful as to accuse her whom he ought to revere, even if he could not grasp her? But this error, I think, and this darkness spread over the minds of the unlearned, comes of their being unable to look so far back, and of their not believing that the men by whom the life of man was first set in order were philosophers.
Quodsi haec studia traducta erunt ad nostros, ne bibliothecis quidem Graecis egebimus, in quibus multitudo infinita librorum propter eorum est multitudinem, qui scripserunt. eadem enim dicuntur a multis, ex quo libris omnia referserunt. quod accidet etiam nostris, si ad haec studia plures confluxerint. sed eos, si possumus, excitemus, qui liberaliter eruditi adhibita etiam disserendi elegantia ratione et via philosophantur.
Though we see the thing itself to be most ancient, we confess all the same that the name is recent. For wisdom itself — who can deny that it is ancient, not only in fact but even in name? It is the name that won, among the ancients, this most beautiful title by its knowledge of things divine and human, and of the beginnings and causes of each thing. And so those seven who by the Greeks were called sophoi, and by our people were both held and named the wise; and many ages before them Lycurgus, in whose time Homer too is recorded to have lived, before this city was founded; and as far back as the age of heroes, Ulysses and Nestor — these, we are told, both were and were held to be wise.
est enim quoddam genus eorum qui se philosophos appellari volunt, quorum dicuntur esse Latini sane multi libri; quos non contemno equidem, quippe quos numquam legerim; sed quia profitentur ipsi illi, qui eos scribunt, se neque distincte neque distribute neque eleganter neque ornate scribere, lectionem sine ulla delectatione neglego. quid enim dicant et quid sentiant i qui sunt ab ea disciplina, nemo ne mediocriter quidem doctus ignorat. quam ob rem, quoniam quem ad modum dicant ipsi non laborant, cur legendi sint nisi ipsi inter se qui idem sentiunt, non intellego.
Nor would Atlas have been said to bear up the sky, nor Prometheus to be fastened to the Caucasus, nor Cepheus set among the stars with his wife, his son-in-law, and his daughter, had not their divine knowledge of the heavens carried over their names into the error of fable. From these, in succession, all who set their zeal upon the contemplation of things were both held and named the wise; and that name of theirs ran on down to the age of Pythagoras. He, as Heraclides of Pontus writes — a pupil of Plato, and a man of the first rank in learning — is said to have come to Phlius, and there to have discoursed on certain matters with Leon, the chief man of the Phliasians, learnedly and at length. And when Leon, marvelling at his genius and eloquence, asked him in what art above all he placed his confidence, Pythagoras replied that he knew no art at all, but was a philosopher. Leon, struck by the novelty of the word, asked who these philosophers might be, and what was the difference between them and the rest of mankind;
nam, ut Platonem reliquosque Socraticos et deinceps eos, qui ab his profecti sunt, legunt omnes, etiam qui illa aut non adprobant aut non studiosissime consectantur, Epicurum autem et Metrodorum non fere praeter suos quisquam in manus sumit, sic hos Latinos i soli legunt, qui illa recte dici putant. nobis autem videtur, quicquid litteris mandetur, id commendari omnium eruditorum lectioni decere; nec, si id ipsi minus consequi possumus, idcirco minus id ita faciendum esse sentimus.
and Pythagoras answered that the life of man seemed to him like that festival which was held with the most splendid display of games and the gathering of all Greece. For there, just as some men sought glory and the renown of a crown by training their bodies, while others were drawn by the profit and gain of buying and selling, but there was a certain kind of men — and this the most freeborn of all — who sought neither applause nor profit, but came for the sake of seeing, and looked on closely at what was being done, and in what manner: so too we, as if we had set out from some city to a kind of crowded festival, had come into this life from another life and nature; and some of us are slaves to glory, some to money, while there are a rare few who, holding all else as nothing, study closely the nature of things. These men, Pythagoras said, he called students of wisdom — that is, philosophers; and just as there it was most worthy of a free man to look on, acquiring nothing for himself, so in life the contemplation and knowledge of things far surpasses all other pursuits.
Itaque mihi semper Peripateticorum Academiaeque consuetudo de omnibus rebus in contrarias partis disserendi non ob eam causam solum placuit, quod aliter non posset, quid in quaque re veri simile esset, inveniri, sed etiam quod esset ea maxuma dicendi exercitatio. qua princeps usus est Aristoteles, deinde eum qui secuti sunt. nostra autem memoria Philo, quem nos frequenter audivimus, instituit alio tempore rhetorum praecepta tradere, alio philosophorum: ad quam nos consuetudinem a familiaribus nostris adducti in Tusculano, quod datum est temporis nobis, in eo consumpsimus. itaque cum ante meridiem dictioni operam dedissemus, sicut pridie feceramus, post meridiem in Academiam descendimus. in qua disputationem habitam non quasi narrantes exponimus, sed eisdem fere verbis, ut actum disputatumque est. Est igitur ambulantibus ad hunc modum sermo ille nobis institutus et a tali quodam ductus exordio:
Nor indeed was Pythagoras only the inventor of the name, but an enlarger as well of the things themselves. After this conversation at Phlius he came into Italy, and adorned that Greece which has been called Great, both in private and in public, with the most excellent institutions and arts. Of his teaching there may, perhaps, be another time for speaking. But from the ancient philosophy down to Socrates — who had listened to Archelaus, the pupil of Anaxagoras — it was numbers and motions that were handled, and the question whence all things arise and into what they fall back; and those men inquired zealously into the magnitudes of the stars, their intervals and courses, and all things of the heavens. Socrates, however, was the first to call philosophy down from the sky, to set it in cities, to bring it even into homes, and to compel it to inquire about life and morals, about things good and evil.
Dici non potest, quam sim hesterna disputatione tua delectatus vel potius adiutus. etsi enim mihi sum conscius numquam me nimis vitae cupidum fuisse, tamen interdum obiciebatur animo metus quidam et dolor cogitanti fore aliquando finem huius lucis et amissionem omnium vitae commodorum. hoc genere molestiae sic, mihi crede, sum liberatus, ut nihil minus curandum putem. Minime mirum id quidem;
His many-sided manner of arguing, the variety of his subjects, and the greatness of his genius, consecrated in the memory and writings of Plato, brought into being several kinds of dissenting philosophers; and of these we ourselves have followed above all the one which we judged Socrates to have used: that we should conceal our own opinion, free others from error, and in every discussion seek out what was most like the truth. This method, since Carneades held to it most acutely and most copiously, I have often elsewhere, and lately at Tusculum, made it my practice to argue after that fashion. And the discourse of the four days I have already sent you, written out in the earlier books; but on the fifth day, when we had taken our seats in the same place, this was set down as the matter we should argue:
nam efficit hoc philosophia: medetur animis, inanes sollicitudines detrahit, cupiditatibus liberat, pellit timores. sed haec eius vis non idem potest apud omnis: tum valet multum, cum est idoneam complexa naturam. fortis enim non modo fortuna adiuvat, ut est in vetere proverbio, sed multo magis ratio, quae quibusdam quasi praeceptis confirmat vim fortitudinis. te natura excelsum quendam videlicet et altum et humana despicientem genuit; itaque facile in animo forti contra mortem habita insedit oratio. sed haec eadem num censes apud eos ipsos valere nisi admodum paucos, a quibus inventa disputata conscripta sunt? quotus enim quisque philosophorum invenitur, qui sit ita moratus, ita animo ac vita constitutus, ut ratio postulat? qui disciplinam suam non ostentationem scientiae, sed legem vitae putet? qui obtemperet ipse sibi et decretis suis pareat?
— It does not seem to me that virtue can be sufficient for the happy life. — But it does, by Hercules, seem so to my friend Brutus, whose judgment, with your leave I shall say it, I rank far above yours. — I do not doubt it; nor is the question now how much you love him, but this, what the thing is which I have said seems true to me, and which I want you to argue. — You deny, then, that virtue can be sufficient for the happy life? — I deny it utterly. — What? For living rightly, honorably, laudably — in short, for living well — is there protection enough in virtue? — Certainly there is. — Can you, then, either not call wretched a man who lives badly, or deny that a man you admit lives well lives happily? — Why should I not? For even amid torments one can live rightly, honorably, laudably, and therefore well — provided only you understand what I now mean by "well." For I mean: steadfastly, with weight, wisely, bravely.
videre licet alios tanta levitate et iactatione, ut iis fuerit non didicisse melius, alios pecuniae cupidos, gloriae non nullos, multos libidinum servos, ut cum eorum vita mirabiliter pugnet oratio. quod quidem mihi videtur esse turpissimum. ut enim si grammaticum se professus quispiam barbare loquatur, aut si absurde canat is qui se haberi velit musicum, hoc turpior sit, quod in eo ipso peccet, cuius profitetur scientiam, sic philosophus in vitae ratione peccans hoc turpior est, quod in officio, cuius magister esse vult, labitur artemque vitae professus delinquit in vita. Nonne verendum est igitur, si est ita, ut dicis, ne philosophiam falsa gloria exornes? quod est enim maius argumentum nihil eam prodesse, quam quosdam perfectos philosophos turpiter vivere?
These things are flung even upon the rack, to which the happy life does not aspire. — What then? Is the happy life, I ask you, the one thing left outside the door and threshold of the prison, when steadfastness, weight, courage, wisdom, and the rest of the virtues are dragged off to the torturer and refuse neither punishment nor pain? — You, if you mean to do anything, must search out something new; these things do not move me in the least — not only because they are commonplace, but much more because, just as certain light wines have no strength in water, so these doctrines of the Stoics please more when tasted than when drunk. So this chorus of virtues, set upon the rack, sets images before our eyes of the most ample dignity, so that the happy life seems likely to press on toward them at a run, and not to suffer them to be deserted by it;
Nullum vero id quidem argumentum est. nam ut agri non omnes frugiferi sunt qui coluntur, falsumque illud Acci: Probae e/tsi in segetem su/nt deteriore/m datae Fruge/s, tamen ipsae sua/pte natura e/nitent, sic animi non omnes culti fructum ferunt. atque, ut in eodem simili verser, ut ager quamvis fertilis sine cultura fructuosus esse non potest, sic sine doctrina animus; ita est utraque res sine altera debilis. cultura autem animi philosophia est; haec extrahit vitia radicitus et praeparat animos ad satus accipiendos eaque mandat is et, ut ita dicam, serit, quae adulta fructus uberrimos ferant. Agamus igitur, ut coepimus. dic, si vis, de quo disputari velis.
but once you have drawn your mind away from that picture and those images of the virtues to the thing itself and the truth, this is left bare: whether a man can be happy as long as he is being tortured. This, then, is what we must now ask; but do not fear that the virtues will protest and complain that they have been abandoned by the happy life. For if no virtue is without prudence, prudence itself sees this — that not all good men are also happy; and it recalls many things about Marcus Atilius, Quintus Caepio, Manius Aquilius, and the happy life, if it please us to use images rather than the things themselves, prudence itself holds back as it tries to mount the rack, and denies that it has anything in common with pain and torment.
Dolorem existimo maxumum malorum omnium. Etiamne maius quam dedecus? Non audeo id dicere equidem, et me pudet tam cito de sententia esse deiectum. Magis esset pudendum, si in sententia permaneres. quid enim minus est dignum quam tibi peius quicquam videri dedecore flagitio turpitudine? quae ut effugias, quis est non modo recusandus, sed non ultro adpetendus subeundus excipiendus dolor? Ita prorsus existimo. quare ne sit sane summum malum dolor, malum certe est. Videsne igitur, quantum breviter admonitus de doloris terrore deieceris?
— I am content to let you proceed in that way, though it is unfair of you to prescribe to me how you would have me argue. But I ask: are we to think that something was accomplished on the earlier days, or nothing? — Accomplished, surely, and a good deal. — And yet, if that is so, this question is already as good as won and brought almost to its conclusion. — How so, pray? — Because turbulent motions and agitations of the mind, roused and carried up by reckless impulse, repelling all reason, leave no part for the happy life. For who can fear death or pain — the one often present, the other always hanging over us — and not be wretched? What, moreover, if the same man, as commonly happens, fears poverty, disgrace, infamy; if he fears weakness, blindness; if, in the end, he fears that which has befallen not single men only but often whole peoples once mighty — slavery?
Video plane, sed plus desidero. Experiar equidem; sed magna res est, animoque mihi opus est non repugnante. Habebis id quidem. ut enim heri feci, sic nunc rationem, quo ea me cumque ducet, sequar. Primum igitur de inbecillitate multorum et de variis disciplinis philosophorum loquar. quorum princeps et auctoritate et antiquitate Socraticus Aristippus non dubitavit summum malum dolorem dicere. deinde ad hanc enervatam muliebremque sententiam satis docilem se Epicurus praebuit. hunc post Rhodius Hieronymus dolore vacare summum bonum dixit: tantum in dolore duxit mali. ceteri praeter Zenonem, Aristonem, Pyrrhonem idem fere quod modo tu: malum illud quidem, sed alia peiora.
Can anyone be happy while he fears such things? And what of the man who not only fears them as things to come, but actually bears and endures them when present — add to these exile, mourning, the loss of children — the man who, broken by these blows, is crushed by grief: can he, after all, be anything but utterly wretched? And what of this? The man whom we see inflamed and raging with his lusts, reaching madly after everything with an appetite that nothing can fill, and the more abundantly he drinks in pleasures from every side, the more heavily and burningly he thirsts — would you not be right to call him utterly wretched? And what of the man lifted up by frivolity, exulting in empty joy and capering without cause — is he not all the more wretched the happier he thinks himself? Therefore, just as these men are wretched, so on the other side those are happy whom no fears terrify, whom no griefs eat away, whom no lusts goad, whom no idle exulting joys melt with their enervating pleasures. As the calm of the sea is recognized when not the slightest breath of air stirs the waves, so the soul’s quiet and settled state is discerned when there is no disturbance by which it can be moved. And if there is a man who counts the force of fortune, and everything human that can befall anyone, as bearable — so that neither fear nor anguish can touch him — and if this same man craves nothing, is carried away by no empty pleasure of the soul, what reason is there why he should not be happy?
ergo id quod natura ipsa et quaedam generosa virtus statim respuit, ne scilicet dolorem summum malum diceres oppositoque dedecore sententia depellerere, in eo magistra vitae philosophia tot saecula permanet. quod huic officium, quae laus, quod decus erit tanti, quod adipisci cum dolore corporis velit, qui dolorem summum malum sibi esse persuaserit? quam porro quis ignominiam, quam turpitudinem non pertulerit, ut effugiat dolorem, si id summum malum esse decreverit? quis autem non miser non modo tunc, cum premetur summis doloribus, si in his est summum malum, sed etiam cum sciet id sibi posse evenire? et quis est, cui non possit? ita fit, ut omnino nemo esse possit beatus.
And if these things are brought about by virtue, what reason is there why virtue itself, of itself, should not make men happy? — Well, the one cannot be denied: that those who fear nothing, are troubled by nothing, crave nothing, are carried away by no ungoverned joy, are happy; and so I grant you that. But the other is no longer an open question. For it was established in our earlier discussions that the wise man is free of every disturbance of the soul. — Then surely the matter is settled;
Metrodorus quidem perfecte eum beatum putat, cui corpus bene constitutum sit et exploratum ita semper fore. quis autem est iste, cui id exploratum possit esse? Epicurus vero ea dicit, ut mihi quidem risus captare videatur. adfirmat enim quodam loco, si uratur sapiens, si crucietur—expectas fortasse, dum dicat: patietur, perferet, non succumbet; magna mehercule laus et eo ipso, per quem iuravi, Hercule, digna; sed Epicuro, homini aspero et duro, non est hoc satis: in Phalaridis tauro si erit, dicet: quam suave est, quam hoc non curo! suave etiam? an parum est, si non amarum? at id quidem illi ipsi, qui dolorem malum esse negant, non solent dicere, cuiquam suave esse cruciari: asperum, difficile, odiosum, contra naturam dicunt, nec tamen malum. hic, qui solum hoc malum dicit et malorum omnium extremum, sapientem censet id suave dicturum.
for the inquiry seems to have reached its conclusion. — Nearly so, indeed. — And yet that is the way of the mathematicians, not of the philosophers. For when geometers wish to teach something, if anything bearing on the matter belongs among the things they have taught before, they take it as granted and proven, and explain only that about which nothing has been written before; whereas philosophers, whatever subject they have in hand, gather into it everything that bears upon it, even if it has been argued elsewhere. Were it not so, why would a Stoic, if the question were raised whether virtue can suffice for the happy life, say a great deal? It would be enough for him to answer that he had shown before that nothing is good except what is honorable, and that, this being proved, it follows that the happy life is content with virtue; and just as this follows from that, so the other follows from this — that, if the happy life is content with virtue, then, unless a thing is honorable, nothing else is good.
ego a te non postulo, ut dolorem eisdem verbis adficias quibus voluptatem Epicurus, homo, ut scis, voluptarius. ille dixerit sane idem in Phalaridis tauro, quod, si esset in lectulo; ego tantam vim non tribuo sapientiae contra dolorem. si fortis est in perferendo, officio satis est; ut laetetur etiam, non postulo. tristis enim res est sine dubio, aspera, amara, inimica naturae, ad patiendum tolerandumque difficilis. Aspice Philoctetam, cui concedendum est gementi;
But still they do not proceed in that way; for there are separate books both on the honorable and on the highest good, and although it follows from the latter that there is power enough in virtue for living happily, none the less they treat this point separately. For each subject must be handled with its own proper arguments and reminders, a subject so great above all. For do not suppose that any voice more illustrious has been uttered in philosophy, or that any of philosophy’s promises is richer or greater. For what does it profess? Good gods! That it will bring it about, for the man who has obeyed its laws, that he be forever armed against fortune, that he hold within himself every safeguard of living well and happily — that, in short, he be forever happy.
ipsum enim Herculem viderat in Oeta magnitudine dolorum eiulantem. nihil igitur hunc virum sagittae, quas ab Hercule acceperat, tum consolabantur, cum E vi/perino mo/rsu venae vi/scerum Vene/no inbutae tae/tros cruciatu/s cient. itaque exclamat auxilium expetens, mori cupiens; Heu, qui/ salsis flucti/bus mandet Me ex su/blimo verti/ce saxi! Iam iam a/bsumor; confi/cit animam Vis vo/lneris, ulceris ae/stus. difficile dictu videtur eum non in malo esse, et magno quidem, qui ita clamare cogatur.
But I shall see what it can accomplish; in the meantime I value this very thing greatly, that it makes the promise. For Xerxes, indeed, glutted with all the rewards and gifts of fortune, not content with his cavalry, not with his foot soldiers, not with his multitude of ships, not with his boundless weight of gold, offered a prize to whoever should discover a new pleasure — with which pleasure itself he was not content either, for desire will never find an end; I could wish that we might draw out by a prize someone who would bring us something by which we might believe this more firmly.
Sed videamus Herculem ipsum, qui tum dolore frangebatur, cum inmortalitatem ipsa morte quaerebat: quas hic voces apud Sophoclem in Trachiniis edit! cui cum Deianira sanguine Centauri tinctam tunicam induisset inhaesissetque ea visceribus, ait ille: “O mu/lta dictu gra/via, perpessu a/spera, Quae co/rpore exancla/ta atque animo pe/rtuli! Nec mi/hi Iunonis te/rror inplaca/bilis Nec ta/ntum invexit tri/stis Eurystheu/s mali, Quantum u/na vaecors Oe/nei partu e/dita. Haec me i/nretivit ve/ste furiali i/nscium, Quae la/tere inhaerens mo/rsu lacerat vi/scera Urge/nsque graviter pu/lmonum haurit spi/ritus: Iam de/colorem sa/nguinem omnem exo/rbuit. Sic co/rpus clade horri/bili absumptum e/xtabuit, Ipse i/nligatus pe/ste interimor te/xtili. Hos no/n hostilis de/xtra, non Terra e/dita Mole/s Gigantum, no/n biformato i/mpetu Centau/rus ictus co/rpori inflixi/t meo, Non Gra/ia vis, non ba/rbara ulla inma/nitas, Non sae/va terris ge/ns relegata u/ltimis, Quas pe/ragrans undique o/mnem ecferitatem e/xpuli, Sed fe/minae vir fe/minea interimo/r manu. O na/te, vere hoc no/men usurpa/ patri, Ne me o/ccidentem ma/tris superet ca/ritas. Huc a/rripe ad me ma/nibus abstracta/m piis; Iam ce/rnam, mene an i/llam potiore/m putes.
— I could wish that too; but I have one small point I would press. For I agree that, of the propositions you have set down, the one follows from the other: that just as, if only what is honorable is good, it follows that the happy life is brought about by virtue, so, if the happy life lies in virtue, nothing is good but virtue. But your friend Brutus, on the authority of Aristo and Antiochus, does not hold this; for he thinks that there is some good besides virtue. — What then?
Perge, au/de, nate! inla/crima patris pe/stibus, Misere/re: gentes no/stras flebunt mi/serias. Heu, vi/rginalem me o/re ploratum e/dere, Quem vi/dit nemo ulli i/ngemescente/m malo! Ecfe/minata vi/rtus adflicta o/ccidit. Acce/de, nate, adsi/ste, miserandum a/spice Evi/sceratum co/rpus lacerati/ patris! Vide/te, cuncti, tu/que, caelestu/m sator, Iace, o/bsecro, in me vi/m coruscam fu/lminis! Nunc, nu/nc dolorum anxi/feri torquent ve/rtices, Nunc se/rpit ardor. o a/nte victrice/s manus,
Do you suppose I shall speak against Brutus? — Just as you see fit; for to set limits beforehand is not my place. — What, then, is consistent with each view, we shall consider elsewhere. For on that matter I had a disagreement both with Antiochus often and with Aristo recently, when as commander I lodged with him at Athens. For it did not seem to me that anyone could be happy while he was in the midst of evils — and the wise man could be in the midst of evils, if there were any evils of the body or of fortune. These things were said — which Antiochus too wrote in several places — that virtue itself, of itself, can bring about the happy life, but not the happiest; further, that most things take their name from the greater part, even if some part should be missing — as strength, as health, as riches, as honor, as glory, which are reckoned by their kind, not by their number; and likewise that the happy life, even if it should be lame in some part, none the less holds its name from the much greater part.
O pe/ctora, o terga, o/ lacertoru/m tori, Vestro/ne pressu quo/ndam Nemeaeu/s leo Frende/ns efflavit gra/viter extremum ha/litum? Haec de/xtra Lernam tae/tra mactata e/xcetra Paca/vit? haec bico/rporem adflixi/t manum? Eryma/nthiam haec vasti/ficam abiecit be/luam? Haec e/ Tartarea te/nebrica abstractu/m plaga Trici/pitem eduxit Hy/dra generatu/m canem? Haec i/nteremit to/rtu multiplica/bili Draco/nem auriferam optu/tu adservantem a/rborem? Multa a/lia victrix no/stra lustravi/t manus, Nec qui/squam e nostris spo/lia cepit lau/dibus.” Possumusne nos contemnere dolorem, cum ipsum Herculem tam intoleranter dolere videamus?
It is not so necessary now to thresh these matters out, although they seem to me said not very consistently. For both, in the case of the man who is happy, I do not see what he should want in order to be happier — for if there is something he lacks, he is not even happy at all — and, as for their saying that each thing is named and regarded from the greater part, there is a place where this holds in that way; but when they say there are three kinds of evils, and a man is pressed by all the evils of two of those kinds — so that everything in his fortune is adverse, and his body is wholly overwhelmed and worn out with pains — shall we say that this man falls just a little short of the happy life, not to say the happiest?
Veniat Aeschylus, non poëta solum, sed etiam Pythagoreus; sic enim accepimus. quo modo fert apud eum Prometheus dolorem, quem excipit ob furtum Lemnium, Unde i/gnis cluet morta/libus clam Divi/sus; eum doctu/s Prometheus Clepsi/sse dolo poena/sque Iovi Fato e/xpendisse supre/mo? has igitur poenas pendens adfixus ad Caucasum dicit haec: “Tita/num suboles, so/cia nostri sa/nguinis, Genera/ta Caelo, aspi/cite religatum a/speris Vinctu/mque saxis, na/vem ut horrisono/ freto Nocte/m paventes ti/midi adnectunt na/vitae. Satu/rnius me si/c infixit Iu/ppiter, Iovi/sque numen Mu/lciberi adscivi/t manus. Hos i/lle cuneos fa/brica crudeli i/nserens Perru/pit artus; qua/ miser solle/rtia Transve/rberatus ca/strum hoc Furiarum i/ncolo.
This is the very thing that Theophrastus could not maintain. For when he had laid it down that lashings, tortures, torments, the overthrows of one’s country, exiles, the loss of children have great force toward living badly and wretchedly, he did not dare to speak loftily and largely, since he felt humbly and meanly. How well he felt is not the question — consistently, at any rate, beyond doubt. And so it is not my habit to find fault with what follows, when you have granted the premises. But this man, the most elegant and most learned of all philosophers, is not greatly faulted when he says there are three kinds of goods; he is harried, however, by everyone, above all in that book which he wrote on the happy life, in which he argues at length why a man who is tortured, who is racked, cannot be happy. In it he is also thought to say that the happy life does not mount the wheel — that being a certain kind of torture among the Greeks. He nowhere says that at all, in fact, but what he does say comes to the same thing.
Iam te/rtio me quo/que funesto/ die Tristi a/dvolatu adu/ncis lacerans u/nguibus Iovi/s satelles pa/stu dilania/t fero. Tum ie/core opimo fa/rta et satiata a/dfatim Clango/rem fundit va/stum et sublime a/volans Pinna/ta cauda no/strum adulat sa/nguinem. Cum ve/ro adesum infla/tu renovatu/mst iecur, Tum ru/rsum taetros a/vida se ad pastu/s refert. Sic ha/nc custodem mae/sti cruciatu/s alo, Quae me/ perenni vi/vum foedat mi/seria. Namque, u/t videtis, vi/nclis constrictu/s Iovis Arce/re nequeo di/ram volucrem a pe/ctore.
Can I, then, who have granted that bodily pains are among evils, that the shipwrecks of fortune are among evils, be angry with him for saying that not all good men are happy, when those things which he reckons among evils can fall upon all good men? This same Theophrastus is harried in both the books and the schools of all the philosophers, because in his Callisthenes he praised that maxim: Fortune, not wisdom, rules our life. They say that nothing more spineless was ever uttered by any philosopher. Rightly so, indeed; but I do not see that anything more consistent could have been said. For if there are so many goods in the body, so many outside the body in chance and fortune, is it not consistent that fortune — which is the mistress of all things both external and pertaining to the body — should have more power than counsel?
Sic me i/pse viduus pe/stes excipio a/nxias Amo/re mortis te/rminum anquire/ns mali; Sed lo/nge a leto nu/mine aspello/r Iovis, Atque hae/c vetusta, sae/clis glomerata ho/rridis, Lucti/fica clades no/stro infixa est co/rpori; E quo/ liquatae so/lis ardore e/xcidunt Guttae/, quae saxa adsi/due instillant Cau/casi.” vix igitur posse videmur ita adfectum non miserum dicere et, si nunc miserum, certe dolorem malum. Tu quidem adhuc meam causam agis, sed hoc mox videro;
Or do we prefer to imitate Epicurus? Who often says many fine things; for how consistently and coherently he speaks with himself does not trouble him. He praises a frugal way of life. The remark of a philosopher, indeed — but only if a Socrates or an Antisthenes said it, not the man who declared pleasure to be the end of goods. He denies that anyone can live pleasantly unless he also lives honorably, wisely, and justly. Nothing weightier, nothing worthier of philosophy — were it not that he refers this very honorable, wise, and just living to pleasure. What is better than: that fortune intrudes but little upon the wise man? But does he say this — he who, after declaring pain to be not only the greatest evil but the only evil, can be overwhelmed in his whole body by the sharpest pains at the very moment when he most boasts against fortune? The same thing Metrodorus put in even better words:
interea, unde isti versus? non enim adgnosco. Dicam hercle; etenim recte requiris. videsne abundare me otio? Quid tum? Fuisti saepe, credo, cum Athenis esses, in scholis philosophorum. Vero, ac libenter quidem. Animadvertebas igitur, etsi tum nemo erat admodum copiosus, verum tamen versus ab is admisceri orationi. Ac multos quidem a Dionysio Stoico. Probe dicis. sed is quasi dictata, nullo dilectu, nulla elegantia: Philo et †proprium nrt et lecta poëmata et loco adiungebat. itaque postquam adamavi hanc quasi senilem declamationem, studiose equidem utor nostris poëtis; sed sicubi illi defecerunt—verti enim multa de Graecis, ne quo ornamento in hoc genere disputationis careret Latina oratio. Sed videsne, poëtae quid mali adferant?
I have forestalled you, he says, Fortune, and laid hold of you, and blocked up all your approaches, so that you cannot reach me. Splendid — if Aristo of Chios or the Stoic Zeno had said it, men who counted nothing evil except what was base; but you, Metrodorus, who lodged every good in the entrails and the marrow, and defined the highest good as bounded by a sound condition of the body and the assured hope of its continuance — you have blocked up the approaches of Fortune? How so? For of that very good you can be stripped at any moment. And yet by such talk the inexperienced are caught, and on account of maxims of this kind the crowd that follows these men is large;
lamentantis inducunt fortissimos viros, molliunt animos nostros, ita sunt deinde dulces, ut non legantur modo, sed etiam ediscantur. sic ad malam domesticam disciplinam vitamque umbratilem et delicatam cum accesserunt etiam poëtae, nervos omnis virtutis elidunt. recte igitur a Platone eiciuntur ex ea civitate, quam finxit ille, cum optimos mores et optimum rei p. statum exquireret. at vero nos, docti scilicet a Graecia, haec et a pueritia legimus ediscimus, hanc eruditionem liberalem et doctrinam putamus. Sed quid poëtis irascimur?
but it is the mark of one who argues acutely to see, not what each man says, but what each man ought to say. As, for instance, in the very position which we have taken up in this discussion, we hold that all good men are always happy. Whom I call good men is plain; for those equipped and adorned with all the virtues we call now wise men, now good men. Let us see who are to be called happy.
virtutis magistri, philosophi, inventi sunt, qui summum malum dolorem dicerent. at tu, adulescens, cum id tibi paulo ante dixisses videri, rogatus a me, etiamne maius quam dedecus, verbo de sententia destitisti. roga hoc idem Epicurum: maius dicet esse malum mediocrem dolorem quam maxumum dedecus; in ipso enim dedecore mali nihil esse, nisi sequantur dolores. quis igitur Epicurum sequitur dolor, cum hoc ipsum dicit, summum malum esse dolorem? quo dedecus maius a philosopho nullum expecto. quare satis mihi dedisti, cum respondisti maius tibi videri malum dedecus quam dolorem. hoc ipsum enim si tenebis, intelleges quam sit obsistendum dolori; nec tam quaerendum est, dolor malumne sit, quam firmandus animus ad dolorem ferendum. Concludunt ratiunculas Stoici, cur non sit malum;
For my part, I judge them to be those who are among goods with no evil joined to them; nor is any other notion attached to this word, when we say "happy," than the full assemblage of goods, with all evils set apart. This virtue cannot attain, if there is any good besides itself. For there will be present a certain throng of evils, if we count those things evils: poverty, obscurity, low standing, loneliness, the loss of one’s own, grievous bodily pains, ruined health, infirmity, blindness, the destruction of one’s country, exile, slavery at the last. Amid these so many and so great evils — and yet more can befall — the wise man can find himself; for these chance brings on, and chance can run upon the wise man. But if these are evils, who can guarantee that the wise man will always be happy, when he may be in the midst of them all at one and the same time?
quasi de verbo, non de re laboretur. quid me decipis, Zeno? nam cum id, quod mihi horribile videtur, tu omnino malum negas esse, capior et scire cupio, quo modo id, quod ego miserrimum existimem, ne malum quidem sit. nihil est inquit malum nisi quod turpe atque vitiosum est. ad ineptias redis; illud enim, quod me angebat, non eximis. scio dolorem non esse nequitiam; desine id me docere: hoc doce, doleam necne doleam, nihil interesse. numquam quicquam inquit ad beate quidem vivendum, quod est in una virtute positum; sed est tamen reiciendum. cur? asperum est, contra naturam, difficile perpessu, triste, durum.
I do not, then, easily grant — neither to my own Brutus, nor to our common masters, nor to those ancients, Aristotle, Speusippus, Xenocrates, Polemo — that, while they count among evils the things I enumerated above, they should yet say that the wise man is always happy. If this distinction delights them, splendid and beautiful and most worthy of Pythagoras, Socrates, and Plato, let them bring their minds to despise those things by whose splendor they are caught — strength, health, beauty, riches, honors, resources — and to count as nothing the things contrary to these: then they will be able to declare with the clearest voice that they are terrified neither by the onset of fortune, nor by the opinion of the crowd, nor by pain, nor by poverty, and that everything for them is lodged within themselves, and that there is nothing outside their own power which they reckon among goods.
haec est copia verborum, quod omnes uno verbo malum appellamus, id tot modis posse dicere. definis tu mihi, non tollis dolorem, cum dicis asperum, contra naturam, vix quod ferri tolerarique possit; nec mentiris; sed re succumbere non oportebat verbis gloriantem. dum nihil bonum nisi quod honestum, nihil malum nisi quod turpe— optare hoc quidem est, non docere; illud et melius et verius, omnia quae natura aspernetur in malis esse, quae adsciscat, in bonis. hoc posito et verborum concertatione sublata tantum tamen excellet illud quod recte amplexantur isti, quod honestum, quod rectum, quod decorum appellamus, quod idem interdum virtutis nomine amplectimur, ut omnia praeterea, quae bona corporis et fortunae putantur, perexigua et minuta videantur, igitur ne malum quidem ullum, nec si in unum locum conlata omnia sint, cum turpitudinis malo comparanda.
To say these things now — which belong to some great and lofty man — and at the same time to reckon among evils and goods what the crowd reckons there, can in no way be allowed. Stirred by that glory Epicurus comes forward; to him too, if you please, the wise man seems always happy. He is captivated by the dignity of this opinion; but he would never say it, if he listened to himself. For what is there less consistent than that the very man who says that pain is either the highest or the only evil should also hold that the wise man will say, even while he is racked with pain, "How sweet this is!"? Philosophers, then, are not to be judged from single utterances, but from their continuity and consistency.
quare si, ut initio concessisti, turpitudo peius est quam dolor, nihil est plane dolor. nam dum tibi turpe nec dignum viro videbitur gemere, eiulare, lamentari, frangi, debilitari dolore, dum honestas, dum dignitas, dum decus aderit, tuque in ea intuens te continebis, cedet profecto virtuti dolor et animi inductione languescet. Aut enim nulla virtus est aut contemnendus omnis dolor. prudentiamne vis esse, sine qua ne intellegi quidem ulla virtus potest? quid ergo? ea patieturne te quicquam facere nihil proficientem et frustra laborantem? an temperantia sinet te inmoderate facere quicquam? an coli iustitia poterit ab homine propter vim doloris enuntiante commissa, prodente conscios, multa officia relinquente? quid? fortitudini comitibusque eius, magnitudini animi, gravitati, patientiae, rerum humanarum despicientiae, quo modo respondebis?
You bring me to agree with you. But see that your own consistency, too, is not found wanting. — How so? — Because I lately read your fourth book on the ends of good and evil; in it you seemed to me, in arguing against Cato, to wish to show this — which for my part I do approve — that between Zeno and the Peripatetics there is nothing at issue but a novelty of terms. And if that is so, what reason is there why, if it is consistent with Zeno’s account that there should be force enough in virtue for living happily, the same should not be open to the Peripatetics to say? For the matter, I think, is what ought to be looked at, not the words.
adflictusne et iacens et lamentabili voce deplorans audieris: o virum fortem!? te vero ita adfectum ne virum quidem quisquam dixerit. amittenda igitur fortitudo est aut sepeliendus dolor. Ecquid scis igitur, si quid de Corinthiis tuis amiseris, posse habere te reliquam supellectilem salvam, virtutem autem si unam amiseris—etsi amitti non potest virtus, sed si unam confessus eris te non habere, nullam esse te habiturum?
You deal with me by sealed documents, calling to witness what I once said or wrote. Do that with others, who debate under imposed rules; we live from day to day. Whatever has struck our minds with probability, that we say; and so we alone are free. Yet since we spoke a little earlier about consistency, I do not think the question to be asked here is whether it is true — what was Zeno’s view, and his pupil Aristo’s, that the only good is the honorable — but whether, if it were so, it would then be consistent to rest this whole business of living happily in virtue alone.
num igitur fortem virum, num magno animo, num patientem, num gravem, num humana contemnentem potes dicere aut Philoctetam illum—? a te enim malo discedere, sed ille certe non fortis, qui iacet in tecto u/mido, Quod e/iulatu, que/stu, gemitu, fre/mitibus Resona/ndo mutum fle/bilis voce/s refert. non ego dolorem dolorem esse nego—cur enim fortitudo desideraretur?—sed eum opprimi dico patientia, si modo est aliqua patientia; si nulla est, quid exornamus philosophiam aut quid eius nomine gloriosi sumus? pungit dolor, vel fodiat sane: si nudus es, da iugulum; sin tectus Volcaniis armis, id est fortitudine, resiste; haec enim te, nisi ita facies, custos dignitatis relinquet et deseret.
So let us grant Brutus this much, by all means — that the wise man is always happy. How far this is consistent with himself, let him see to it; as for the glory of this opinion, who is worthier of it than that man? Yet let us hold to our point: that he is also supremely happy. And though Zeno of Citium, a kind of newcomer and obscure artificer of words, seems to have insinuated himself into the ancient philosophy, the weight of this opinion may be traced back to the authority of Plato, in whom this manner of speaking is often employed — that nothing is called good except virtue. So in the Gorgias Socrates, when he had been asked whether he did not think Archelaus the son of Perdiccas, who was then held the most fortunate of men, a happy man, replied, "I do not know;
Cretum quidem leges, quas sive Iuppiter sive Minos sanxit de Iovis quidem sententia, ut poëtae ferunt, itemque Lycurgi laboribus erudiunt iuventutem, venando currendo, esuriendo sitiendo, algendo aestuando. Spartae vero pueri ad aram sic verberibus accipiuntur, ut multus e visceribus sanguis exeat, non numquam etiam, ut, cum ibi essem, audiebam, ad necem; quorum non modo nemo exclamavit umquam, sed ne ingemuit quidem. quid ergo? hoc pueri possunt, viri non poterunt? et mos valet, ratio non valebit?
for I have never talked with him." — Is that so? Can you not know it any other way? — In no way. — Then you cannot say even of the great king of the Persians whether he is happy? — How could I, when I do not know how learned he is, how good a man? — What? Do you think the happy life consists in that? — Just so, entirely; I judge the good to be happy, the wicked wretched. — Archelaus, then, is wretched? — Certainly, if he is unjust.
Interest aliquid inter laborem et dolorem. sunt finitima omnino, sed tamen differt aliquid. labor est functio quaedam vel animi vel corporis gravioris operis et muneris, dolor autem motus asper in corpore alienus a sensibus. haec duo Graeci illi, quorum copiosior est lingua quam nostra, uno nomine appellant. itaque industrios homines illi studiosos vel potius amantis doloris appellant, nos commodius laboriosos: aliud est enim laborare, aliud dolere. o verborum inops interdum, quibus abundare te semper putas, Graecia! aliud, inquam, est dolere, aliud laborare. cum varices secabantur C. Mario, dolebat; cum aestu magno ducebat agmen, laborabat. est inter haec quaedam tamen similitudo: consuetudo enim laborum perpessionem dolorum efficit faciliorem.
Does he not seem here to rest the whole happy life in virtue alone? And what of this — how does the same man speak in the funeral oration? "For the man to whom all things that bear on living happily depend on himself, and are not left hanging on the good or ill chance of others, nor forced to drift with another’s fortunes — for him the way of living best has been provided. He it is who is moderate, he who is brave, he who is wise; he it is who, when goods come and when they go — children above all, with the rest of his comforts — will yield and obey that old precept: for he will never rejoice too much nor grieve too much, because he sets all his hope of himself always in himself." From Plato, then, as from a kind of holy and august spring, all our discourse will flow. From where, then, can we more rightly begin than from our common parent, nature?
itaque illi, qui Graeciae formam rerum publicarum dederunt, corpora iuvenum firmari labore voluerunt; quod Spartiatae etiam in feminas transtulerunt, quae ceteris in urbibus mollissimo cultu parietum umbris occuluntur. illi autem voluerunt nihil horum simile esse a/pud Lacaenas vi/rgines, Quibus ma/gis palaestra Euro/ta sol pulvi/s labor Mili/tia in studio est qua/m fertilitas ba/rbara. ergo his laboriosis exercitationibus et dolor intercurrit non numquam, inpelluntur feriuntur abiciuntur cadunt, et ipse labor quasi callum quoddam obducit dolori.
Nature willed that whatever she has brought forth — not only the animal, but also that which has so sprung from the earth as to be held up by its own roots — should be perfect, each thing in its own kind. And so trees and vines, and the lowlier things that cannot lift themselves higher from the ground — some are forever green, others, stripped bare in winter, put out leaves when the spring has warmed them; and there is nothing that does not so thrive, by a certain inner motion and by the seeds shut up in each, that it pours forth either flowers or fruits or berries; and all things, in all things, so far as lies in them, are perfect when no force stands in the way.
Militiam vero—nostram dico, non Spartiatarum, quorum procedit ad modum acies ac tibiam, nec adhibetur ulla sine anapaestis pedibus hortatio—, nostri exercitus primum unde nomen habeant, vides; deinde qui labor, quantus agminis: ferre plus dimidiati mensis cibaria, ferre, si quid ad usum velint, ferre vallum (nam scutum gladium galeam in onere nostri milites non plus numerant quam umeros lacertos manus: arma enim membra militis esse dicunt; quae quidem ita geruntur apte, ut, si usus fuerit, abiectis oneribus expeditis armis ut membris pugnare possint). quid? exercitatio legionum, quid? ille cursus concursus clamor quanti laboris est! ex hoc ille animus in proeliis paratus ad volnera. adduc pari animo inexercitatum militem:
But the force of nature herself can be discerned even more easily in the beasts, because to them sense has been given by nature. For some beasts nature willed to be swimmers and dwellers in the waters; others, winged, to enjoy the free sky; some to be crawlers, some walkers; and of these themselves, some to range alone, some to gather in herds; some to be savage, others tame; some to be hidden away and covered by the earth. And each of them, keeping to its own office, since it cannot cross over into the life of an unlike creature, abides in the law of nature. And just as to the beasts something distinct was given to each by nature, which each retains as its own and does not depart from, so to man something far more excellent was given — though only those things ought to be called excellent that admit of some comparison. The human mind, plucked from the divine intelligence, can be compared with nothing else but God himself, if it is right to say so.
mulier videbitur. cur tantum interest inter novum et veterem exercitum, quantum experti sumus? aetas tironum plerumque melior, sed ferre laborem, contemnere volnus consuetudo docet. quin etiam videmus ex acie efferri saepe saucios, et quidem rudem illum et inexercitatum quamvis levi ictu ploratus turpissimos edere: at vero ille exercitatus et vetus ob eamque rem fortior medicum modo requirens, a quo obligetur: O Pa/tricoles inquit, ad vo/s adveniens au/xilium et vestra/s manus Peto/, prius quam oppeto/ malam pestem ma/ndatam hostili/ manu, * * * Neque sa/nguis ullo po/tis est pacto pro/fluens consi/stere, Si qui/ sapientia/ magis vestra mo/rs devitari/ potest. Namque Ae/sculapi li/berorum sau/cii opplent po/rticus; Non po/test accedi.— Ce/rte Eurypylus hi/c quidem est. hominem exe/rcitum!
If, then, this mind has been cultivated, and if its keen edge has been so tended that it is not blinded by errors, it becomes perfect intelligence — that is, completed reason — which is the same as virtue. And if everything is happy that lacks nothing, and that is filled out and brought to fullness in its own kind, and if this is the property of virtue, then surely all who possess virtue are happy. And here I agree with Brutus — that is, with Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, Polemo. But to me they seem also supremely happy.
non minus autem exercitatum: ubi tantum luctus continuatur, vide quam non flebiliter respondeat, rationem etiam adferat cur aequo animo sibi ferendum sit: Qui a/lteri exitiu/m parat, Eum sci/re oportet si/bi paratum, pe/stem ut participe/t parem. abducet Patricoles, credo, ut conlocet in cubili, ut volnus obliget. siquidem homo esset; sed nihil vidi minus. quaerit enim, quid actum sit: Elo/quere eloquere, re/s Argivum proe/lio ut se su/stinet.— Non po/test ecfari ta/ntum dictis, qua/ntum factis su/ppetit Labo/ris. quiesce igitur et volnus alliga. etiamsi Eurypylus posset, non posset Aesopus: Ubi fortuna Hecto/ris nostram acrem a/ciem inclinata/m.. et cetera explicat in dolore; sic est enim intemperans militaris in forti viro gloria. ergo haec veteranus miles facere poterit, doctus vir sapiensque non poterit?
For what is lacking for living happily to the man who trusts in his own goods? Or how can one who distrusts them be happy? And distrust them he must, who divides goods into three kinds. For how will he be able to trust in the firmness of his body or the stability of fortune? Yet without a good that is stable and fixed and lasting, no one can be happy. What, then, of theirs is of that sort? So that the saying of the Laconian seems to me to fall upon these men — who, to a certain merchant boasting that he had sent out many ships to every coast of the sea, said, "That fortune, hung upon ropes, is not greatly to be desired." Is there any doubt that nothing is to be counted among the things by which the happy life is filled out, if it can be lost? For nothing of those things in which the happy life consists ought to wither, nothing to be quenched, nothing to fall away. For whoever fears to lose any of them cannot be happy.
ille vero melius, ac non paulo quidem. Sed adhuc de consuetudine exercitationis loquor, nondum de ratione et sapientia. aniculae saepe inediam biduum aut triduum ferunt; subduc cibum unum diem athletae: Iovem, Iovem Olympium, eum ipsum, cui se exercebit, inplorabit, ferre non posse clamabit. consuetudinis magna vis est: pernoctant venatores in nive in montibus; uri se patiuntur Indi; pugiles caestibus contusi ne ingemescunt quidem.
For we want the man who is happy to be safe, unassailable, fenced about and fortified — not so as to be furnished with some small fear, but with none at all. For just as a man is called blameless not who does slight harm, but who does no harm, so he is to be held free from fear not who fears small things, but who is altogether empty of fear. For what else is courage but a disposition of the mind that endures in facing danger and in toil and pain, and at the same time stands far off from all fear? And these things surely would not be so, unless every good consisted in the honorable alone.
sed quid hos, quibus Olympiorum victoria consulatus ille antiquus videtur? gladiatores, aut perditi homines aut barbari, quas plagas perferunt! quo modo illi, qui bene instituti sunt, accipere plagam malunt quam turpiter vitare! quam saepe apparet nihil eos malle quam vel domino satis facere vel populo! mittunt etiam volneribus confecti ad dominos, qui quaerant quid velint: si satis is factum sit, se velle decumbere. quis mediocris gladiator ingemuit, quis vultum mutavit umquam? quis non modo stetit, verum etiam decubuit turpiter? quis, cum decubuisset, ferrum recipere iussus collum contraxit? tantum exercitatio meditatio consuetudo valet. ergo hoc poterit Samnis, spurcus homo, vita illa dignus locoque; vir natus ad gloriam ullam partem animi tam mollem habebit, quam non meditatione et ratione conroboret? crudele gladiatorum spectaculum et inhumanum non nullis videri solet, et haud scio an ita sit, ut nunc fit; cum vero sontes ferro depugnabant, auribus fortasse multae, oculis quidem nulla poterat esse fortior contra dolorem et mortem disciplina.
And how can anyone possess that most longed-for and sought-after security — by security I now mean freedom from distress, in which the happy life is set — when there is, or can be, a multitude of evils close upon him? How can anyone be lofty and upright, counting all that can befall a man as small — such as we want the wise man to be — unless he reckons that all his goods rest within himself? When Philip threatened the Spartans by letter that he would block everything they attempted, did they not ask whether he would block them even from dying? Will not the man we are seeking be found far more readily with such a spirit than a whole state was found? What more? When to this courage of which we speak temperance is joined — the moderator of all commotions — what can be lacking for living happily to the man whom courage delivers from distress and from fear, while temperance both calls him away from lust and does not let him exult in any insolent excitement? That virtue brings these things about I would show, were they not set out in the earlier days.
De exercitatione et consuetudine et commentatione dixi. age sis, nunc de ratione videamus, nisi quid vis ad haec. Egone ut te interpellem? ne hoc quidem vellem: ita me ad credendum tua ducit oratio. Sitne igitur malum dolere necne, Stoici viderint, qui contortulis quibusdam et minutis conclusiunculis nec ad sensus permanantibus effici volunt non esse malum dolorem. ego illud, quicquid sit, tantum esse, quantum videatur, non puto, falsaque eius visione et specie moveri homines dico vehementius, doloremque eius omnem esse tolerabilem. Unde igitur ordiar? an eadem breviter attingam, quae modo dixi, quo facilius oratio progredi possit longius?
And since disturbances of the mind make for misery, while their calming makes life happy, and the account of disturbance is twofold — for distress and fear turn upon imagined evils, while exultant gladness and lust turn upon a mistaken view of goods, all of them at war with counsel and reason — when you have seen a man empty of these so weighty agitations, so much at variance and at odds among themselves, and so set loose and free, will you hesitate to call him happy? But the wise man is always so disposed; the wise man, therefore, is always happy. And further: every good is a thing to rejoice in; and what is to be rejoiced in is to be proclaimed and carried before one; and what is of that sort is also a thing of glory; and if of glory, then surely praiseworthy; and what is praiseworthy is assuredly also honorable.
inter omnis igitur hoc constat, nec doctos homines solum sed etiam indoctos, virorum esse fortium et magnanimorum et patientium et humana vincentium toleranter dolorem pati; nec vero quisquam fuit, qui eum, qui ita pateretur, non laudandum putaret. quod ergo et postulatur a fortibus et laudatur, cum fit, id aut extimescere veniens aut non ferre praesens nonne turpe est? atqui vide ne, cum omnes rectae animi adfectiones virtutes appellentur, non sit hoc proprium nomen omnium, sed ab ea quae una ceteris excellebat omnes nominatae sint. appellata est enim ex viro virtus; viri autem propria maxime est fortitudo, cuius munera duo sunt maxima: mortis dolorisque contemptio. utendum est igitur his, si virtutis compotes vel potius si viri volumus esse, quoniam a viris virtus nomen est mutuata. Quaeres fortasse, quo modo, et recte: talem enim medicinam philosophia profitetur.
What is good, therefore, is honorable. But the things these men reckon among goods, not even they themselves call honorable; the only good, then, is the honorable. From which it follows that the happy life is contained in the honorable alone. Those things, then, are not to be called goods, nor to be held such, in which a man may abound and yet be utterly wretched.
venit Epicurus, homo minime malus vel potius vir optimus; tantum monet, quantum intellegit. neglege inquit dolorem. quis hoc dicit? idem, qui dolorem summum malum? vix satis constanter. audiamus. si summus dolor est inquit, brevem necesse est esse. iteradum eadem ista mihi! non enim satis intellego, quid summum dicas esse, quid breve. summum, quo nihil sit superius, breve, quo nihil brevius. contemno magnitudinem doloris, a qua me brevitas temporis vindicabit ante paene quam venerit. sed si est tantus dolor, quantus Philoctetae? bene plane magnus mihi quidem videtur, sed tamen non summus; nihil enim dolet nisi pes: possunt oculi, potest caput latera pulmones, possunt omnia; longe igitur abest a summo dolore. ergo inquit dolor diuturnus habet laetitiae plus quam molestiae.
Or do you doubt that a man outstanding in health, strength, beauty, with the keenest and soundest senses — add even, if you like, agility and speed, throw in riches, honors, commands, power, glory — if the man who has these be unjust, intemperate, cowardly, of a dull and worthless wit, you would not hesitate to call him wretched? Of what sort, then, are those goods which the man who has them can be utterly wretched? Let us consider whether, just as a heap is made of grains of its own kind, so the happy life ought to be made of parts that resemble itself. And if that is so, it must be made of goods that are honorable alone; if these shall be mixed of unlike things, nothing honorable can be made of them; and once that is taken away, what can be understood as happy? For whatever is good is a thing to be desired; and what is to be desired is surely to be approved; and what you have approved is to be held welcome and acceptable; and so worth must be assigned to it as well. And if that is so, it must of necessity be praiseworthy; every good, then, is praiseworthy. From which it follows that what is honorable is the only good.
nunc ego non possum tantum hominem nihil sapere dicere, sed nos ab eo derideri puto. ego summum dolorem—summum autem dico, etiamsi decem atomis est maior alius—non continuo esse dico brevem multosque possum bonos viros nominare, qui complures annos doloribus podagrae crucientur maximis. sed homo catus numquam terminat nec magnitudinis nec diuturnitatis modum, ut sciam, quid summum dicat in dolore, quid breve in tempore. omittamus hunc igitur nihil prorsus dicentem cogamusque confiteri non esse ab eo doloris remedia quaerenda, qui dolorem malorum omnium maxumum dixerit, quamvis idem forticulum se in torminibus et in stranguria sua praebeat. Aliunde igitur est quaerenda medicina, et maxime quidem, si, quid maxime consentaneum sit, quaerimus, ab is quibus, quod honestum sit, summum bonum, quod turpe, summum videtur malum. his tu praesentibus gemere et iactare te non audebis profecto;
For unless we hold to this firmly, there will be many things that we shall have to call goods. I leave aside riches — which, since anyone, however unworthy, may possess them, I do not count among goods, for what is a good cannot be possessed by just anyone; I leave aside nobility and a fame stirred up by the agreement of fools and rogues: yet these, though they are the least of things, must still be called goods — bright little teeth, charming eyes, a pleasing complexion, and the things that Anticlea praises while washing the feet of Ulysses: the smoothness of his speech, the softness of his body. If we shall reckon these as goods, what will there be in a philosopher’s gravity that can be called either weightier or grander than what is in the opinion of the crowd and the throng of fools?
loquetur enim eorum voce Virtus ipsa tecum: tune, cum pueros Lacedaemone, adulescentis Olympiae, barbaros in harena videris excipientis gravissimas plagas et ferentis silentio, si te forte dolor aliquis pervellerit, exclamabis ut mulier, non constanter et sedate feres? fieri non potest; natura non patitur. audio. pueri ferunt gloria ducti, ferunt pudore alii, multi metu, et tamen veremur, ut hoc, quod a tam multis et quod tot locis perferatur, natura patiatur? illa vero non modo patitur, verum etiam postulat: nihil enim habet praestantius, nihil quod magis expetat quam honestatem, quam laudem, quam dignitatem, quam decus. hisce ego pluribus nominibus unam rem declarari volo, sed utor, ut quam maxime significem, pluribus. volo autem dicere illud homini longe optumum esse, quod ipsum sit optandum per se, a virtute profectum vel in ipsa virtute situm, sua sponte laudabile, quod idem citius dixerim solum quam non summum bonum. atque ut haec de honesto, sic de turpi contraria: nihil tam taetrum, nihil tam aspernandum, nihil homine indignius.
But, you say, the Stoics call these same things "preferred" or "advanced," which your school calls goods. They do call them so, to be sure; but they deny that the happy life is made complete by them — whereas these others think there is no happy life without them, or, if there is, certainly deny it is the happiest. We, however, will have it the happiest, and this is confirmed for us by that Socratic chain of reasoning. For thus did that prince of philosophy argue: as the disposition of each man’s soul is, such is the man; and as the man himself is, such is his speech; and his deeds are like his speech, and his life like his deeds. But the disposition of a good man’s soul is praiseworthy; and so the life of a good man is praiseworthy; and therefore honorable, since praiseworthy. From which it is concluded that the life of good men is happy.
Quod si tibi persuasum est—principio enim dixisti plus in dedecore mali tibi videri quam in dolore—, reliquum est, ut tute tibi imperes. quamquam hoc nescio quo modo dicatur. quasi duo simus, ut alter imperet, alter pareat! non inscite tamen dicitur. est enim animus in partis tributus duas, quarum altera rationis est particeps, altera expers. cum igitur praecipitur, ut nobismet ipsis imperemus, hoc praecipitur, ut ratio coërceat temeritatem. est in animis omnium fere natura molle quiddam, demissum, humile, enervatum quodam modo et languidum. si nihil esset aliud, nihil esset homine deformius. sed praesto est domina omnium et regina ratio, quae conixa per se et progressa longius fit perfecta virtus. haec ut imperet illi parti animi, quae oboedire debet, id videndum est viro. quonam modo? inquies.
For, by the faith of gods and men! — was it too little established in our earlier discussions, or did we speak merely for delight and to pass the leisure hours, that the wise man is always free from every commotion of soul, which I call a disturbance, and that there is always in his soul the most placid peace? A man, then, who is temperate, steadfast, without fear, without distress, without idle elation, without lust — is he not happy? But the wise man is always such; therefore he is always happy. And further, how can a good man fail to refer to what is praiseworthy everything that he does and everything that he feels? But he refers everything to living happily; therefore the happy life is praiseworthy; and nothing is praiseworthy without virtue: therefore the happy life is brought about by virtue.
vel ut dominus servo vel ut imperator militi vel ut parens filio. si turpissime se illa pars animi geret, quam dixi esse mollem, si se lamentis muliebriter lacrimisque dedet, vinciatur et constringatur amicorum propinquorumque custodiis; saepe enim videmus fractos pudore, qui ratione nulla vincerentur. ergo hos quidem ut famulos vinclis prope ac custodia, qui autem erunt firmiores nec tamen robustissimi, hos admonitu oportebit ut bonos milites revocatos dignitatem tueri. non nimis in Niptris ille sapientissimus Graeciae saucius lamentatur vel modice potius: pedetemptim, inquit, ite et sedato/ nisu Ne su/ccussu arripia/t maior Dolor (Pacuvius hoc melius quam Sophocles;
And this too is concluded in the following way: there is nothing to be proclaimed or gloried in either in a wretched life or in one that is neither wretched nor happy. And yet in some life there is something to be proclaimed and gloried in and held up before the world, as in Epaminondas: by our counsels the glory of the Spartans was shorn; or in Africanus: from the rising of the sun above the marshes of Maeotis, there is no man who can match my deeds.
apud illum enim perquam flebiliter Ulixes lamentatur in volnere); tamen huic leviter gementi illi ipsi, qui ferunt saucium, personae gravitatem intuentes non dubitant dicere: Tu quo/que, Ulixes, quamqua/m graviter Cerni/mus ictum, nimis pae/ne animo es Molli/, qui consuetu/s in armis Aevom a/gere intellegit poëta prudens ferendi doloris consuetudinem esse non contemnendam magistram.
And if this is so, then the happy life is to be gloried in and proclaimed and held up before the world; for there is nothing else that ought to be proclaimed and held up before the world. With these things laid down, you understand what follows. And indeed, unless that life is happy which is also honorable, it follows of necessity that there is something better than the happy life; for whatever shall be honorable, they will certainly admit to be better. So the happy life will be something less than another thing; and what can be said more perverse than that? What of this? When they admit that there is force enough in vices to make a life wretched, must it not be admitted that there is the same force in virtue to make it happy? For of contraries the consequences are contrary.
atque ille non inmoderate magno in dolore: Retine/te, tenete! oppri/mit ulcus; Nuda/te! heu miserum me: e/xcrucior. incipit labi, deinde ilico desinit: Operi/te, abscedite ia/m iam! Mitti/te! nam attrectatu e/t quassu Saevum a/mplificatis dolo/rem. videsne, ut obmutuerit non sedatus corporis, sed castigatus animi dolor? itaque in extremis Niptris alios quoque obiurgat, idque moriens: Co/nqueri fortu/nam adversam, no/n lamentari/ decet; Id viri est offi/cium, fletus mu/liebri ingenio a/dditus.
At this point I ask what force there is in that balance of Critolaus, who, when he places the goods of the soul in one pan and the goods of the body and external goods in the other, thinks the pan of the soul’s goods weighs down so heavily that it would sink the earth and the seas. What, then, prevents either this man, or that gravest of philosophers Xenocrates, who exalts virtue so greatly while making light of everything else and casting it away, from placing in virtue not merely a happy life but the happiest of lives?
Huius animi pars illa mollior rationi sic paruit ut severo imperatori miles pudens. in quo vero erit perfecta sapientia—quem adhuc nos quidem vidimus neminem; sed philosophorum sententiis, qualis hic futurus sit, si modo aliquando fuerit, exponitur—, is igitur sive ea ratio, quae erit in eo perfecta atque absoluta, sic illi parti imperabit inferiori ut iustus parens probis filiis; nutu, quod volet, conficiet, nullo labore, nulla molestia; eriget ipse se, suscitabit, instruet, armabit, ut tamquam hosti sic obsistat dolori. quae sunt ista arma? contentio confirmatio sermoque intumus, cum ipse secum:
And unless this is so, the destruction of the virtues will follow. For on whomever distress falls, fear must fall on the same man as well — for fear is the anxious expectation of distress to come; and on whomever fear falls, on the same man fall dread, timidity, panic, cowardice; and so the same man will at times be conquered, and will not think that precept of Atreus applies to him: let them so prepare themselves in life that they know not how to be conquered. But this man will be conquered, as I have said, and not only conquered but enslaved as well; while we will have virtue always free, always unconquered; and unless these things hold, virtue is overthrown.
’cave turpe quicquam, languidum, non virile.’ obversentur species honestae animo: Zeno proponatur Eleates, qui perpessus est omnia potius quam conscios delendae tyrannidis indicaret; de Anaxarcho Democritio cogitetur, qui cum Cypri in manus Timocreontis regis incidisset, nullum genus supplicii deprecatus est neque recusavit. Callanus Indus, indoctus ac barbarus, in radicibus Caucasi natus, sua voluntate vivus combustus est; nos, si pes condoluit, si dens sed fac totum dolere corpus, ferre non possumus. opinio est enim quaedam effeminata ac levis—nec in dolore magis quam eadem in voluptate—, qua cum liquescimus fluimusque mollitia, apis aculeum sine clamore ferre non possumus.
And if there is enough protection in virtue for living well, there is enough also for living happily; for there is certainly enough in virtue for us to live bravely; if bravely, then also with greatness of soul, and indeed so that we are never terrified by anything and are always unconquered. It follows that nothing is regretted, nothing lacking, nothing in the way; therefore all things flow on freely, perfectly, prosperously, and thus happily. But virtue has power enough for living bravely; therefore power enough also for living happily.
at vero C. Marius, rusticanus vir, sed plane vir, cum secaretur, ut supra dixi, principio vetuit se alligari, nec quisquam ante Marium solutus dicitur esse sectus. cur ergo postea alii? valuit auctoritas. videsne igitur opinionis esse, non naturae malum? et tamen fuisse acrem morsum doloris idem Marius ostendit; crus enim alterum non praebuit. ita et tulit dolorem ut vir et ut homo maiorem ferre sine causa necessaria noluit. Totum igitur in eo est, ut tibi imperes. ostendi autem, quod esset imperandi genus; atque haec cogitatio, quid patientia, quid fortitudine, quid magnitudine animi dignissimum sit, non solum animum comprimit, sed ipsum etiam dolorem nescio quo pacto mitiorem facit.
For just as folly, even when it has attained what it desired, never thinks it has gained enough, so wisdom is always content with what is at hand, and is never displeased with itself. Do you suppose the single consulship of Gaius Laelius was like another’s — and that too coming with a defeat (if, when a man wise and good, such as he was, is passed over in the voting, it is not rather the people that has met a defeat at the hands of a good consul than he at the hands of a good people)? But still — which would you rather, if the choice were yours: to be consul once like Laelius, or four times like Cinna?
ut enim fit in proelio, ut ignavus miles ac timidus, simul ac viderit hostem, abiecto scuto fugiat quantum possit, ob eamque causam pereat non numquam etiam integro corpore, cum ei qui steterit nihil tale evenerit, sic qui doloris speciem ferre non possunt, abiciunt se atque ita adflicti et exanimati iacent; qui autem restiterunt, discedunt saepissime superiores. sunt enim quaedam animi similitudines cum corpore. ut onera contentis corporibus facilius feruntur, remissis opprimunt, simillime animus intentione sua depellit pressum omnem ponderum,
I have no doubt what you will answer; and so I see to whom I am committing the question. I would not put this same question to just anyone; for another might perhaps answer that he prefers not only four consulships to one, but a single day of Cinna’s to whole lifetimes of many famous men. Laelius, had he so much as touched a man with his finger, would have paid the penalty; but Cinna ordered the head of his colleague, the consul Gnaeus Octavius, to be struck off, and the heads of Publius Crassus and Lucius Caesar, men of the highest nobility, whose virtue had been proved at home and in war, and of Marcus Antonius, the most eloquent of all men I ever heard, and of Gaius Caesar, in whom there seemed to me to be a model of refinement, of wit, of charm, of grace. Was he happy, then, who killed these men? To me, on the contrary, he seems wretched not only because he did these things, but also because he so conducted himself that he was free to do them — though in truth no one is free to do wrong; but we slip through an error of language, for we say a thing is permitted
remissione autem sic urgetur, ut se nequeat extollere. et si verum quaerimus, in omnibus officiis persequendis animi est adhibenda contentio; ea est sola officii tamquam custodia. sed hoc idem in dolore maxume est providendum, ne quid abiecte, ne quid timide, ne quid ignave, ne quid serviliter muliebriterve faciamus, in primisque refutetur ac reiciatur Philocteteus ille clamor. Ingemescere non numquam viro concessum est, idque raro, eiulatus ne mulieri quidem; et hic nimirum est lessus, quem duodecim tabulae in funeribus adhiberi vetuerunt.
when it is granted to a man to do it. Which, after all, was the happier — Gaius Marius, when he shared the glory of the Cimbric victory with his colleague Catulus, almost a second Laelius (for I count this man very like him), or when, victor in the civil war and enraged, he answered the kinsmen of Catulus who pleaded with him not once but again and again: "let him die"? In this the happier was the man who obeyed that wicked command than the one who issued so criminal an order. For as it is better to receive an injury than to do one, so it was better to go a little forward to meet death already drawing near — which is what Catulus did — than to do as Marius did: to crush, by the destruction of such a man, his own six consulships, and to defile the last span of his life.
nec vero umquam ne ingemescit quidem vir fortis ac sapiens, nisi forte ut se intendat ad firmitatem, ut in stadio cursores exclamant quam maxime possunt. faciunt idem, cum exercentur, athletae; pugiles vero, etiam cum feriunt adversarium, in iactandis caestibus ingemescunt, non quod doleant animove succumbant, sed quia profundenda voce omne corpus intenditur venitque plaga vehementior. quid? qui volunt exclamare maius, num satis habent latera fauces linguam intendere, e quibus elici vocem et fundi videmus? toto corpore atque omnibus ungulis, ut dicitur, contentioni vocis adserviunt.
For thirty-eight years Dionysius was tyrant of the Syracusans, having seized the lordship at the age of twenty-five. With what splendor, with what resources he held the city, and the state oppressed in slavery! And yet of this man we have received from good authorities this account: that he was in his manner of living of the utmost temperance, in the conduct of affairs a keen and industrious man, but at the same time malicious by nature and unjust; from which it must seem to all who rightly look upon the truth that he was the most wretched of men. For the very things he had set his heart on, not even then, when he believed he could do all things, did he attain.
genu mehercule M. Antonium vidi, cum contente pro se ipse lege Varia diceret, terram tangere. ut enim ballistae lapidum et reliqua tormenta telorum eo graviores emissiones habent, quo sunt contenta atque adducta vehementius, sic vox, sic cursus, sic plaga hoc gravior, quo est missa contentius. cuius contentionis cum tanta vis sit, si gemitus in dolore ad confirmandum animum valebit, utemur; sin erit ille gemitus elamentabilis, si inbecillus, si abiectus, si flebilis, ei qui se dederit, vix eum virum dixerim. qui quidem gemitus si levationis aliquid adferret, tamen videremus, quid esset fortis et animosi viri; cum vero nihil imminuat doloris, cur frustra turpes esse volumus? quid est enim fletu muliebri viro turpius?
For though he was born of good parents and of honorable station — though indeed this one point is handed down differently by different writers — and abounded both in the friendships of his peers and in the company of his kinsmen, and had besides, after the Greek fashion, certain young men bound to him by love, he trusted none of them, but committed the guarding of his person to men whom he had chosen as slaves out of the households of the rich, from whom he himself had stripped the name of slavery, and to certain immigrants and savage barbarians. Thus, through his unjust craving for lordship, he had in a manner shut himself up in prison. Indeed, that he might not entrust his throat to a barber, he taught his own daughters to cut hair. So in a sordid and servile craft these royal maidens, like little barber-girls, trimmed the beard and hair of their father. And yet from these very girls, when they were now grown, he took away the blade, and arranged that with glowing walnut shells they should singe off his beard and hair.
atque hoc praeceptum, quod de dolore datur, patet latius: omnibus enim rebus, non solum dolori, simili contentione animi resistendum est. ira exardescit, libido concitatur: in eandem arcem confugiendum est, eadem sunt arma sumenda. sed quoniam de dolore loquimur, illa omittamus. Ad ferendum igitur dolorem placide atque sedate plurimum proficit toto pectore, ut dicitur, cogitare, quam id honestum sit. sumus enim natura, ut ante dixi—dicendum est enim saepius—, studiosissimi adpetentissimique honestatis, cuius si quasi lumen aliquod aspeximus, nihil est quod, ut eo potiamur, non parati simus et ferre et perpeti. ex hoc cursu atque impetu animorum ad veram laudem atque honestatem illa pericula adeuntur in proeliis, non sentiunt viri fortes in acie volnera, vel sentiunt, sed mori malunt quam tantum modo de dignitatis gradu demoveri.
And though he had two wives, Aristomache, his fellow citizen, and Doris of Locri, he would come to them by night only after spying out and searching through everything beforehand. And since he had set a broad ditch around the chamber where his bed stood, and had joined the crossing of that ditch by a little wooden bridge, he himself would swing this very bridge aside once he had shut the door of the chamber. And since he did not dare to stand on the common platforms, he was accustomed to address the assembly from a high tower.
fulgentis gladios hostium videbant Decii, cum in aciem eorum inruebant. his levabat omnem volnerum metum nobilitas mortis et gloria. num tum ingemuisse Epaminondam putas, cum una cum sanguine vitam effluere sentiret? imperantem enim patriam Lacedaemoniis relinquebat, quam acceperat servientem. haec sunt solacia, haec fomenta summorum dolorum.
And when he wished to play ball — for he did this eagerly and often — and was laying aside his tunic, he is said to have handed his sword to a young man whom he loved. At this one of his companions said in jest: "To him, at any rate, you certainly entrust your life," and the young man smiled; whereupon he ordered both to be put to death, the one because he had pointed out the way of killing him, the other because he had approved the remark by his laughter. And by that deed he was so grieved that he bore nothing more heavily in all his life; for he had killed one he had loved intensely. So the desires of men without self-mastery are pulled apart in opposite directions: when you have indulged the one, the other must be resisted.
Dices: quid in pace, quid domi, quid in lectulo? ad philosophos me revocas, qui in aciem non saepe prodeunt. e quibus homo sane levis, Heracleotes Dionysius, cum a Zenone fortis esse didicisset, a dolore dedoctus est. nam cum ex renibus laboraret, ipso in eiulatu clamitabat falsa esse illa, quae antea de dolore ipse sensisset. quem cum Cleanthes condiscipulus rogaret, quaenam ratio eum de sententia deduxisset, respondit: quia, si, cum tantulum operae philosophiae dedissem, dolorem tamen ferre non possem, satis esset argumenti malum esse dolorem. plurimos autem annos in philosophia consumpsi nec ferre possum. malum est igitur dolor. tum Cleanthem, cum pede terram percussisset, versum ex Epigonis ferunt dixisse: audi/sne haec, Amphiara/e sub terram a/bdite? Zenonem significabat, a quo illum degenerare dolebat.
And yet this very tyrant passed judgment on his own happiness. For when one of his flatterers, Damocles, was recounting in conversation his forces, his power, the majesty of his rule, the abundance of his wealth, the splendor of his royal palace, and declaring that no one had ever been more fortunate, "Would you like, then, Damocles," he said, "since this life delights you, to taste it for yourself and try out my fortune?" When the man said he would gladly, Dionysius ordered him laid on a golden couch spread with a covering of the most beautiful weave, embroidered with magnificent designs, and had several sideboards decked with chased gold and silver. Then he ordered chosen boys of surpassing beauty to take their stand at the table and to wait upon him attentively, watching his every nod.
at non noster Posidonius; quem et ipse saepe vidi et id dicam, quod solebat narrare Pompeius, se, cum Rhodum venisset decedens ex Syria, audire voluisse Posidonium; sed cum audisset eum graviter esse aegrum, quod vehementer eius artus laborarent, voluisse tamen nobilissimum philosophum visere: quem ut vidisset et salutavisset honorificisque verbis prosecutus esset molesteque se dixisset ferre, quod eum non posset audire, at ille: tu vero inquit potes, nec committam, ut dolor corporis efficiat, ut frustra tantus vir ad me venerit. itaque narrabat eum graviter et copiose de hoc ipso, nihil esse bonum nisi quod esset honestum, cubantem disputavisse, cumque quasi faces ei doloris admoverentur, saepe dixisse:
There were perfumes and garlands; incense was burning; the tables were piled high with the choicest delicacies. Damocles thought himself a fortunate man. In the midst of all this display Dionysius ordered a gleaming sword, fastened by a single horsehair, to be let down from the ceiling, so that it hung over the neck of this happy man. And so Damocles neither looked at those beautiful attendants, nor at the silver wrought with such art, nor reached out his hand to the table; the garlands by now were slipping from his head; at last he begged the tyrant to let him go, since he no longer wished to be happy. Does Dionysius not seem to have shown clearly enough that there is no happiness for a man over whom some terror forever hangs? Nor was it any longer open to him to return to justice, to give his citizens back their freedom and their rights; for in his youth, at an age that takes no thought, he had so entangled himself in errors and committed such crimes that he could not be safe if he once began to be sane.
’nihil agis, dolor! quamvis sis molestus, numquam te esse confitebor malum.’ Omninoque omnes clari et nobilitati labores continuo fiunt etiam tolerabiles. videmusne ut, apud quos eorum ludorum, qui gymnici nominantur, magnus honos sit, nullum ab is, qui in id certamen descendant, devitari dolorem? apud quos autem venandi et equitandi laus viget, qui hanc petessunt, nullum fugiunt dolorem. quid de nostris ambitionibus, quid de cupiditate honorum loquar? quae flamma est, per quam non cucurrerint i qui haec olim punctis singulis colligebant? itaque semper Africanus Socraticum Xenophontem in manibus habebat, cuius in primis laudabat illud, quod diceret eosdem labores non esse aeque gravis imperatori et militi, quod ipse honos laborem leviorem faceret imperatorium.
How much he longed for friendships, whose faithlessness he dreaded, he showed in the case of those two Pythagoreans: when he had accepted one of them as surety for the other’s death, and the other, to free his surety, had presented himself at the appointed hour of death, "Would," he said, "that I might be enrolled as a third friend among you!" How wretched it was for him to do without the company of friends, the fellowship of daily life, intimate conversation altogether — and this for a man learned from boyhood and schooled in the liberal arts, devoted besides to music; a writer of tragedy, too — how good a one is nothing to the point, for in this field, somehow more than in others, every man finds his own work beautiful. I have never yet known a poet (and I had a friendship with Aquinius) who did not think himself the best; that is how it stands: your work delights you, mine delights me. — But to return to Dionysius: he was deprived of all human refinement and society; he lived among runaways, among criminals, among barbarians; he counted no one his friend who was either worthy of freedom or wished to be free at all. With this man’s life — than which I can conceive nothing more foul, more wretched, more detestable — I shall not now compare the life of Plato or Archytas, learned men and plainly wise:
sed tamen hoc evenit, ut in vulgus insipientium opinio valeat honestatis, cum ipsam videre non possint. itaque fama et multitudinis iudicio moventur, cum id honestum putent, quod a plerisque laudetur. te autem, si in oculis sis multitudinis, tamen eius iudicio stare nolim nec, quod illa putet, idem putare pulcherrimum. tuo tibi iudicio est utendum; tibi si recta probanti placebis, tum non modo tete viceris, quod paulo ante praecipiebam, sed omnis et omnia.
from the same city I shall summon up a lowly little man from his dust and drawing-board, one who lived many years later, Archimedes. When I was quaestor I tracked down his grave, unknown to the Syracusans — they denied it existed at all — hemmed in on every side and overgrown with brambles and thickets. For I held in mind certain little verses that I had been told were inscribed upon his monument, which declared that a sphere with a cylinder had been set on top of the tomb.
hoc igitur tibi propone: amplitudinem animi et quasi quandam exaggerationem quam altissimam animi, quae maxime eminet contemnendis et despiciendis doloribus, unam esse omnium rem pulcherrimam, eoque pulchriorem, si vacet populo neque plausum captans se tamen ipsa delectet. quin etiam mihi quidem laudabiliora videntur omnia, quae sine venditatione et sine populo teste fiunt, non quo fugiendus sit —omnia enim bene facta in luce se conlocari volunt —, sed tamen nullum theatrum virtuti conscientia maius est.
Now as I was surveying everything with my eyes — for there is a great crowd of tombs at the Agrigentine Gate — I noticed a small column standing out a little from the thickets, on which there was the figure of a sphere and a cylinder. And at once I told the Syracusans — their leading men were with me — that I thought this was the very thing I was looking for. Men were sent in with sickles; they cleared and opened up the place.
Atque in primis meditemur illud, ut haec patientia dolorum, quam saepe iam animi intentione dixi esse firmandam, in omni genere se aequabilem praebeat. saepe enim multi, qui aut propter victoriae cupiditatem aut propter gloriae aut etiam, ut ius suum et libertatem tenerent, volnera exceperunt fortiter et tulerunt, idem omissa contentione dolorem morbi ferre non possunt; neque enim illum, quem facile tulerant, ratione aut sapientia tulerant, sed studio potius et gloria. itaque barbari quidam et inmanes ferro decertare acerrume possunt, aegrotare viriliter non queunt. Graeci autem homines, non satis animosi, prudentes, ut est captus hominum, satis, hostem aspicere non possunt: eidem morbos toleranter atque humane ferunt. at Cimbri et Celtiberi in proeliis exultant, lamentantur in morbo. nihil enim potest esse aequabile, quod non a certa ratione proficiscatur.
When the way to it had been laid open, we approached the base facing us. There appeared the epigram, with the latter halves of the little verses eaten away — about half of it remaining. So the most renowned city of Greece, once indeed the most learned as well, would have known nothing of the monument of its one most brilliant citizen, had it not learned of it from a man of Arpinum. But let the discourse return to where it strayed: who is there of all men, provided he has any dealings at all with the Muses — that is, with culture and learning — who would not rather be this mathematician than that tyrant? If we ask after the manner and conduct of their lives, the one man’s mind was nourished by the working out and investigation of reasonings, with the delight of his own ingenuity, which is the single sweetest food of the soul; the other’s, by slaughter and injustice, with fear by day and by night. Come now, set beside him Democritus, Pythagoras, Anaxagoras: what kingdoms, what riches will you prefer to their pursuits and delights?
sed cum videas eos, qui aut studio aut opinione ducantur, in eo persequendo atque adipiscendo dolore non frangi, debes existimare aut non esse malum dolorem aut, etiamsi, quicquid asperum alienumque natura sit, id appellari placeat malum, tantulum tamen esse, ut a virtute ita obruatur, ut nusquam appareat. quae meditare quaeso dies et noctes. latius enim manabit haec ratio et aliquanto maiorem locum quam de uno dolore occupabit. nam si omnia fugiendae turpitudinis adipiscendaeque honestatis causa faciemus, non modo stimulos doloris, sed etiam fulmina fortunae contemnamus licebit, praesertim cum paratum sit illud ex hesterna disputatione perfugium.
For that part which is best in a man — there it is that the best thing you seek must necessarily reside. And what is there in a man better than a keen and sound mind? It is the good of this mind, then, that we must enjoy, if we wish to be happy; but the good of the mind is virtue; therefore the happy life must necessarily be contained in virtue. From this come all things that are beautiful, honorable, and noble — as I said above, but the same point seems worth stating a little more fully — and they are full of joys. And since it is clear that the happy life arises from perpetual and abundant joys, it follows that it arises from the honorable.
ut enim si cui naviganti, praedones si insequantur, deus qui dixerit: eice te navi; praesto est qui excipiat: vel delphinus, ut Arionem Methymnaeum, vel equi Pelopis illi Neptunii, qui per undas currus suspensos rapuisse dicuntur, excipient te et quo velis perferent, omnem omittat timorem, sic urguentibus asperis et odiosis doloribus, si tanti sint, ut ferendi non sint, quo sit confugiendum, tu vides. Haec fere hoc tempore putavi esse dicenda. sed tu fortasse in sententia permanes. Minime vero, meque biduo duarum rerum, quas maxime timebam, spero liberatum metu. Cras ergo ad clepsydram; sic enim diximus, et tibi hoc video non posse deberi. Ita prorsus; et illud quidem ante meridiem, hoc eodem tempore. Sic faciemus tuisque optumis studiis obsequemur.
This fifth day, Brutus, will bring the Tusculan discussions to their close — the day on which we argued the very question that you, of all of them, most approve. For I have come to see, both from the book you wrote to me with the greatest care and from many conversations of yours, how thoroughly the view pleases you that virtue is sufficient of itself for the happy life. And though this is hard to prove, on account of fortune’s torments, so various and so many, it is nonetheless the kind of thing at which we must labor, that it may be proved the more readily. For among all the matters that philosophy handles, there is nothing that is spoken of with greater weight or grandeur.
Quidnam esse, Brute, causae putem, cur, cum constemus ex animo et corpore, corporis curandi tuendique causa quaesita sit ars atque eius utilitas deorum inmortalium inventioni consecrata, animi autem medicina nec tam desiderata sit, ante quam inventa, nec tam culta, posteaquam cognita est, nec tam multis grata et probata, pluribus etiam suspecta et invisa? an quod corporis gravitatem et dolorem animo iudicamus, animi morbum corpore non sentimus? ita fit ut animus de se ipse tum iudicet, cum id ipsum, quo iudicatur, aegrotet.
For since this was the cause that drove the first men to apply themselves to the study of philosophy — that, setting all else aside, they devoted themselves wholly to the search for the best condition of life — surely it was in the hope of living happily that they laid out such care and effort upon that study. And if virtue was discovered and brought to perfection by them, and if there is in virtue protection enough for living happily, who is there who would not judge that the work of philosophizing was nobly both undertaken by them and taken up by us? But if virtue, subject to changes various and uncertain, is the handmaid of fortune, and has not strength enough to keep itself secure, then I fear that we ought to lean toward the hope of living happily not so much by confidence in virtue as by the offering of prayers.
Quodsi talis nos natura genuisset, ut eam ipsam intueri et perspicere eademque optima duce cursum vitae conficere possemus, haut erat sane quod quisquam rationem ac doctrinam requireret. nunc parvulos nobis dedit igniculos, quos celeriter malis moribus opinionibusque depravati sic restinguimus, ut nusquam naturae lumen appareat. sunt enim ingeniis nostris semina innata virtutum, quae si adolescere liceret, ipsa nos ad beatam vitam natura perduceret. nunc autem, simul atque editi in lucem et suscepti sumus, in omni continuo pravitate et in summa opinionum perversitate versamur, ut paene cum lacte nutricis errorem suxisse videamur. cum vero parentibus redditi, dein magistris traditi sumus, tum ita variis imbuimur erroribus, ut vanitati veritas et opinioni confirmatae natura ipsa cedat.
For my own part, when I consider with myself those reverses by which fortune has so violently exercised me, I begin at times to lose faith in this view, and to dread the weakness and frailty of the human race. For I fear that nature, having given us bodies that are feeble and joined to them diseases beyond cure and pains beyond endurance, may have given us minds as well — minds at once attuned to the pains of the body and, on their own account, entangled in their own anguish and distress.
accedunt etiam poëtae, qui cum magnam speciem doctrinae sapientiaeque prae se tulerunt, audiuntur leguntur ediscuntur et inhaerescunt penitus in mentibus. cum vero eodem quasi maxumus quidam magister populus accessit atque omnis undique ad vitia consentiens multitudo, tum plane inficimur opinionum pravitate a naturaque desciscimus, ut nobis optime naturae vim vidisse videantur, qui nihil melius homini, nihil magis expetendum, nihil praestantius honoribus, imperiis, populari gloria iudicaverunt. ad quam fertur optumus quisque veramque illam honestatem expetens, quam unam natura maxime anquirit, in summa inanitate versatur consectaturque nullam eminentem effigiem virtutis, sed adumbratam imaginem gloriae. est enim gloria solida quaedam res et expressa, non adumbrata; ea est consentiens laus bonorum, incorrupta vox bene iudicantium de excellenti virtute, ea virtuti resonat tamquam imago; quae quia recte factorum plerumque comes est, non est bonis viris repudianda.
But here I rebuke myself, because from the softness of others, and perhaps of my own, I form my estimate of virtue’s strength, rather than from virtue itself. For virtue — if indeed there is any such thing as virtue, a doubt your uncle, Brutus, swept away — holds beneath itself all that can befall a man; looking down upon these, it scorns the accidents of mortal life, and, free of all fault, it judges that nothing concerns it but itself. We, on the other hand, magnify by fear every adversity as it comes, and by grief every present trouble, and choose to condemn the nature of things rather than our own error.
illa autem, quae se eius imitatricem esse volt, temeraria atque inconsiderata et plerumque peccatorum vitiorumque laudatrix, fama popularis, simulatione honestatis formam eius pulchritudinemque corrumpit. qua caecitate homines, cum quaedam etiam praeclara cuperent eaque nescirent nec ubi nec qualia essent, funditus alii everterunt suas civitates, alii ipsi occiderunt. atque hi quidem optuma petentes non tam voluntate quam cursus errore falluntur. quid? qui pecuniae cupiditate, qui voluptatum libidine feruntur, quorumque ita perturbantur animi, ut non multum absint ab insania, quod insipientibus contingit omnibus, is nullane est adhibenda curatio? utrum quod minus noceant animi aegrotationes quam corporis, an quod corpora curari possint, animorum medicina nulla sit?
But the correction of this fault, and of the rest of our vices and sins, must all be sought from philosophy. Into her bosom, from the earliest season of our life, our own will and zeal drove us; and now, in these gravest reverses, tossed by a great tempest, we have fled for refuge to the same harbor from which we set out. O philosophy, guide of life! O searcher-out of virtue and expeller of vices! What, not only could we, but what could the whole life of man have been without you? You gave birth to cities; you called together into the fellowship of life men once scattered; you joined them to one another first by dwellings, then by marriages, then by the sharing of letters and of speech; you were the inventor of laws, you the teacher of morals and of order. To you we flee; from you we ask aid; to you we entrust ourselves — as before in great part, so now wholly and entirely. And one day well spent, by your precepts, is to be preferred to an eternity of wrongdoing.
at et morbi perniciosiores pluresque sunt animi quam corporis; hi enim ipsi odiosi sunt, quod ad animum pertinent eumque sollicitant, animusque aeger, ut ait Ennius, semper errat neque pati neque perpeti potest, cupere numquam desinit. quibus duobus morbis, ut omittam alios, aegritudine et cupiditate, qui tandem possunt in corpore esse graviores? qui vero probari potest ut sibi mederi animus non possit, cum ipsam medicinam corporis animus invenerit, cumque ad corporum sanationem multum ipsa corpora et natura valeat nec omnes, qui curari se passi sint, continuo etiam convalescant, animi autem, qui se sanari voluerint praeceptisque sapientium paruerint, sine ulla dubitatione sanentur?
Whose resources, then, should we use rather than yours — you who have lavished tranquillity of life upon us and taken away the terror of death? And yet philosophy, so far from being praised in proportion to what she has deserved of the life of man, is by most men neglected and by many even reviled. Does anyone dare to revile the parent of life, and to stain himself with this parricide, and to be so impiously ungrateful as to accuse her whom he ought to revere, even if he could not grasp her? But this error, I think, and this darkness spread over the minds of the unlearned, comes of their being unable to look so far back, and of their not believing that the men by whom the life of man was first set in order were philosophers.
est profecto animi medicina, philosophia; cuius auxilium non ut in corporis morbis petendum est foris, omnibusque opibus viribus, ut nosmet ipsi nobis mederi possimus, elaborandum est. Quamquam de universa philosophia, quanto opere et expetenda esset et colenda, satis, ut arbitror, dictum est in Hortensio. de maxumis autem rebus nihil fere intermisimus postea nec disputare nec scribere. his autem libris exposita sunt ea quae a nobis cum familiaribus nostris in Tusculano erant disputata. sed quo niam duobus superioribus de morte et de dolore dictum est, tertius dies disputationis hoc tertium volumen efficiet.
Though we see the thing itself to be most ancient, we confess all the same that the name is recent. For wisdom itself — who can deny that it is ancient, not only in fact but even in name? It is the name that won, among the ancients, this most beautiful title by its knowledge of things divine and human, and of the beginnings and causes of each thing. And so those seven who by the Greeks were called sophoi, and by our people were both held and named the wise; and many ages before them Lycurgus, in whose time Homer too is recorded to have lived, before this city was founded; and as far back as the age of heroes, Ulysses and Nestor — these, we are told, both were and were held to be wise.
ut enim in Academiam nostram descendimus inclinato iam in postmeridianum tempus die, poposci eorum aliquem, qui aderant, causam disserendi. tum res acta sic est: Videtur mihi cadere in sapientem aegritudo. Num reliquae quoque perturbationes animi, formidines libidines iracundiae? haec enim fere sunt eius modi, quae Graeci pa/qh appellant; ego poteram morbos, et id verbum esset e verbo, sed in consuetudinem nostram non caderet. nam misereri, invidere, gestire, laetari, haec omnia morbos Graeci appellant, motus animi rationi non obtemperantis, nos autem hos eosdem motus concitati animi recte, ut opinor, perturbationes dixerimus, morbos autem non satis usitate, nisi quid aliud tibi videtur. Mihi vero isto modo.
Nor would Atlas have been said to bear up the sky, nor Prometheus to be fastened to the Caucasus, nor Cepheus set among the stars with his wife, his son-in-law, and his daughter, had not their divine knowledge of the heavens carried over their names into the error of fable. From these, in succession, all who set their zeal upon the contemplation of things were both held and named the wise; and that name of theirs ran on down to the age of Pythagoras. He, as Heraclides of Pontus writes — a pupil of Plato, and a man of the first rank in learning — is said to have come to Phlius, and there to have discoursed on certain matters with Leon, the chief man of the Phliasians, learnedly and at length. And when Leon, marvelling at his genius and eloquence, asked him in what art above all he placed his confidence, Pythagoras replied that he knew no art at all, but was a philosopher. Leon, struck by the novelty of the word, asked who these philosophers might be, and what was the difference between them and the rest of mankind;
Haecine igitur cadere in sapientem putas? Prorsus existimo. Ne ista gloriosa sapientia non magno aestimanda est, siquidem non multum differt ab insania. Quid? tibi omnisne animi commotio videtur insania? Non mihi quidem soli, sed, id quod admirari saepe soleo, maioribus quoque nostris hoc ita visum intellego multis saeculis ante Socratem, a quo haec omnis, quae est de vita et de moribus, philosophia manavit. Quonam tandem modo? Quia nomen insaniae significat mentis aegrotationem et morbum, id est insanitatem et aegrotum animum, quam appellarunt insaniam.
and Pythagoras answered that the life of man seemed to him like that festival which was held with the most splendid display of games and the gathering of all Greece. For there, just as some men sought glory and the renown of a crown by training their bodies, while others were drawn by the profit and gain of buying and selling, but there was a certain kind of men — and this the most freeborn of all — who sought neither applause nor profit, but came for the sake of seeing, and looked on closely at what was being done, and in what manner: so too we, as if we had set out from some city to a kind of crowded festival, had come into this life from another life and nature; and some of us are slaves to glory, some to money, while there are a rare few who, holding all else as nothing, study closely the nature of things. These men, Pythagoras said, he called students of wisdom — that is, philosophers; and just as there it was most worthy of a free man to look on, acquiring nothing for himself, so in life the contemplation and knowledge of things far surpasses all other pursuits.
(omnis autem perturbationes animi morbos philosophi appellant negantque stultum quemquam his morbis vacare. qui autem in morbo sunt, sani non sunt; et omnium insipientium animi in morbo sunt: omnes insipientes igitur insaniunt ). sanitatem enim animorum positam in tranquillitate quadam constantiaque censebant; his rebus mentem vacuam appellarunt insaniam, propterea quod in perturbato animo sicut in corpore sanitas esse non posset.
Nor indeed was Pythagoras only the inventor of the name, but an enlarger as well of the things themselves. After this conversation at Phlius he came into Italy, and adorned that Greece which has been called Great, both in private and in public, with the most excellent institutions and arts. Of his teaching there may, perhaps, be another time for speaking. But from the ancient philosophy down to Socrates — who had listened to Archelaus, the pupil of Anaxagoras — it was numbers and motions that were handled, and the question whence all things arise and into what they fall back; and those men inquired zealously into the magnitudes of the stars, their intervals and courses, and all things of the heavens. Socrates, however, was the first to call philosophy down from the sky, to set it in cities, to bring it even into homes, and to compel it to inquire about life and morals, about things good and evil.
nec minus illud acute, quod animi adfectionem lumine mentis carentem nominaverunt amentiam eandemque dementiam. ex quo intellegendum est eos qui haec rebus nomina posuerunt sensisse hoc idem, quod a Socrate acceptum diligenter Stoici retinuerunt, omnis insipientes esse non sanos. qui est enim animus in aliquo morbo—morbos autem hos perturbatos motus, ut modo dixi, philosophi appellant—, non magis est sanus quam id corpus quod in morbo est. ita fit ut sapientia sanitas sit animi, insipientia autem quasi insanitas quaedam, quae est insania eademque dementia; multoque melius haec notata sunt verbis Latinis quam Graecis.
His many-sided manner of arguing, the variety of his subjects, and the greatness of his genius, consecrated in the memory and writings of Plato, brought into being several kinds of dissenting philosophers; and of these we ourselves have followed above all the one which we judged Socrates to have used: that we should conceal our own opinion, free others from error, and in every discussion seek out what was most like the truth. This method, since Carneades held to it most acutely and most copiously, I have often elsewhere, and lately at Tusculum, made it my practice to argue after that fashion. And the discourse of the four days I have already sent you, written out in the earlier books; but on the fifth day, when we had taken our seats in the same place, this was set down as the matter we should argue:
quod aliis quoque multis locis reperietur; sed id alias, nunc, quod instat. totum igitur id quod quaerimus quid et quale sit, verbi vis ipsa declarat. eos enim sanos quoniam intellegi necesse est, quorum mens motu quasi morbo perturbata nullo sit, qui contra adfecti sint, hos insanos appellari necesse est. itaque nihil melius, quam quod est in consuetudine sermonis Latini, cum exisse ex potestate dicimus eos, qui ecfrenati feruntur aut libidine aut iracundia— quamquam ipsa iracundia libidinis est pars; sic enim definitur: iracundia ulciscendi libido —; qui igitur exisse ex potestate dicuntur, idcirco dicuntur, quia non sint in potestate mentis, cui regnum totius animi a natura tributum est. Graeci autem mani/an unde appellent, non facile dixerim; eam tamen ipsam distinguimus nos melius quam illi. hanc enim insaniam, quae iuncta stultitiae patet latius, a furore disiungimus. Graeci volunt illi quidem, sed parum valent verbo: quem nos furorem, melagxoli/an illi vocant; quasi vero atra bili solum mens ac non saepe vel iracundia graviore vel timore vel dolore moveatur; quo genere Athamantem Alcmaeonem Aiacem Orestem furere dicimus. qui ita sit adfectus, eum dominum esse rerum suarum vetant duodecim tabulae; itaque non est scriptum si insanus, sed si furiosus escit. stultitiam enim censuerunt constantia, id est sanitate, vacantem posse tamen tueri mediocritatem officiorum et vitae communem cultum atque usitatum; furorem autem esse rati sunt mentis ad omnia caecitatem. quod cum maius esse videatur quam insania, tamen eius modi est, ut furor in sapientem cadere possit, non possit insania. sed haec alia quaestio est; nos ad propositum revertamur.
— It does not seem to me that virtue can be sufficient for the happy life. — But it does, by Hercules, seem so to my friend Brutus, whose judgment, with your leave I shall say it, I rank far above yours. — I do not doubt it; nor is the question now how much you love him, but this, what the thing is which I have said seems true to me, and which I want you to argue. — You deny, then, that virtue can be sufficient for the happy life? — I deny it utterly. — What? For living rightly, honorably, laudably — in short, for living well — is there protection enough in virtue? — Certainly there is. — Can you, then, either not call wretched a man who lives badly, or deny that a man you admit lives well lives happily? — Why should I not? For even amid torments one can live rightly, honorably, laudably, and therefore well — provided only you understand what I now mean by "well." For I mean: steadfastly, with weight, wisely, bravely.
Cadere, opinor, in sapientem aegritudinem tibi dixisti videri. Et vero ita existimo. Humanum id quidem, quod ita existumas. non enim silice nati sumus, sed est naturale in animis tenerum quiddam atque molle, quod aegritudine quasi tempestate quatiatur, nec absurde Crantor ille, qui in nostra Academia vel in primis fuit nobilis, minime inquit adsentior is qui istam nescio quam indolentiam magno opere laudant, quae nec potest ulla esse nec debet. ne aegrotus sim; si inquit fuero, sensus adsit, sive secetur quid sive avellatur a corpore. nam istuc nihil dolere non sine magna mercede contingit inmanitatis in animo, stuporis in corpore.
These things are flung even upon the rack, to which the happy life does not aspire. — What then? Is the happy life, I ask you, the one thing left outside the door and threshold of the prison, when steadfastness, weight, courage, wisdom, and the rest of the virtues are dragged off to the torturer and refuse neither punishment nor pain? — You, if you mean to do anything, must search out something new; these things do not move me in the least — not only because they are commonplace, but much more because, just as certain light wines have no strength in water, so these doctrines of the Stoics please more when tasted than when drunk. So this chorus of virtues, set upon the rack, sets images before our eyes of the most ample dignity, so that the happy life seems likely to press on toward them at a run, and not to suffer them to be deserted by it;
sed videamus ne haec oratio sit hominum adsentantium nostrae inbecillitati et indulgentium mollitudini; nos autem audeamus non solum ramos amputare miseriarum, sed omnis radicum fibras evellere. tamen aliquid relinquetur fortasse; ita sunt altae stirpes stultitiae; sed relinquetur id solum quod erit necessarium. Illud quidem sic habeto, nisi sanatus animus sit, quod sine philosophia fieri non potest, finem miseriarum nullum fore. quam ob rem, quoniam coepimus, tradamus nos ei curandos: sanabimur, si volemus. et progrediar quidem longius: non enim de aegritudine solum, quamquam id quidem primum, sed de omni animi, ut ego posui, perturbatione, morbo, ut Graeci volunt, explicabo. et primo, si placet, Stoicorum more agamus, qui breviter astringere solent argumenta; deinde nostro instituto vagabimur.
but once you have drawn your mind away from that picture and those images of the virtues to the thing itself and the truth, this is left bare: whether a man can be happy as long as he is being tortured. This, then, is what we must now ask; but do not fear that the virtues will protest and complain that they have been abandoned by the happy life. For if no virtue is without prudence, prudence itself sees this — that not all good men are also happy; and it recalls many things about Marcus Atilius, Quintus Caepio, Manius Aquilius, and the happy life, if it please us to use images rather than the things themselves, prudence itself holds back as it tries to mount the rack, and denies that it has anything in common with pain and torment.
Qui fortis est, idem est fidens (quoniam confidens mala consuetudine loquendi in vitio ponitur, ductum verbum a confidendo, quod laudis est). qui autem est fidens, is profecto non extimescit; discrepat enim a timendo confidere. atqui, in quem cadit aegritudo, in eundem timor; quarum enim rerum praesentia sumus in aegritudine, easdem inpendentes et venientes timemus. ita fit ut fortitudini aegritudo repugnet. veri simile est igitur, in quem cadat aegritudo, cadere in eundem timorem et infractionem quidem animi et demissionem. quae in quem cadunt, in eundem cadit, ut serviat, ut victum, si quando, se esse fateatur. quae qui recipit, recipiat idem necesse est timiditatem et ignaviam. non cadunt autem haec in virum fortem: igitur ne aegritudo quidem. at nemo sapiens nisi fortis: non cadet ergo in sapientem aegritudo.
— I am content to let you proceed in that way, though it is unfair of you to prescribe to me how you would have me argue. But I ask: are we to think that something was accomplished on the earlier days, or nothing? — Accomplished, surely, and a good deal. — And yet, if that is so, this question is already as good as won and brought almost to its conclusion. — How so, pray? — Because turbulent motions and agitations of the mind, roused and carried up by reckless impulse, repelling all reason, leave no part for the happy life. For who can fear death or pain — the one often present, the other always hanging over us — and not be wretched? What, moreover, if the same man, as commonly happens, fears poverty, disgrace, infamy; if he fears weakness, blindness; if, in the end, he fears that which has befallen not single men only but often whole peoples once mighty — slavery?
Praeterea necesse est, qui fortis sit, eundem esse magni animi; qui magni animi sit, invictum; qui invictus sit, eum res humanas despicere atque infra se positas arbitrari. despicere autem nemo potest eas res, propter quas aegritudine adfici potest; ex quo efficitur fortem virum aegritudine numquam adfici. omnes autem sapientes fortes: non cadit igitur in sapientem aegritudo. Et quem ad modum oculus conturbatus non est probe adfectus ad suum munus fungendum, et reliquae partes totumve corpus statu cum est motum, deest officio suo et muneri, sic conturbatus animus non est aptus ad exequendum munus suum. munus autem animi est ratione bene uti; et sapientis animus ita semper adfectus est, ut ratione optime utatur; numquam igitur est perturbatus. at aegritudo perturbatio est animi: semper igitur ea sapiens vacabit.
Can anyone be happy while he fears such things? And what of the man who not only fears them as things to come, but actually bears and endures them when present — add to these exile, mourning, the loss of children — the man who, broken by these blows, is crushed by grief: can he, after all, be anything but utterly wretched? And what of this? The man whom we see inflamed and raging with his lusts, reaching madly after everything with an appetite that nothing can fill, and the more abundantly he drinks in pleasures from every side, the more heavily and burningly he thirsts — would you not be right to call him utterly wretched? And what of the man lifted up by frivolity, exulting in empty joy and capering without cause — is he not all the more wretched the happier he thinks himself? Therefore, just as these men are wretched, so on the other side those are happy whom no fears terrify, whom no griefs eat away, whom no lusts goad, whom no idle exulting joys melt with their enervating pleasures. As the calm of the sea is recognized when not the slightest breath of air stirs the waves, so the soul’s quiet and settled state is discerned when there is no disturbance by which it can be moved. And if there is a man who counts the force of fortune, and everything human that can befall anyone, as bearable — so that neither fear nor anguish can touch him — and if this same man craves nothing, is carried away by no empty pleasure of the soul, what reason is there why he should not be happy?
Veri etiam simile illud est, qui sit temperans— quem Graeci sw/frona appellant eamque virtutem swfrosu/nhn vocant, quam soleo equidem tum temperantiam, tum moderationem appellare, non numquam etiam modestiam; sed haud scio an recte ea virtus frugalitas appellari possit, quod angustius apud Graecos valet, qui frugi homines xrhsi/mous appellant, id est tantum modo utilis; at illud est latius; omnis enim abstinentia, omnis innocentia (quae apud Graecos usitatum nomen nullum habet, sed habere potest a)bla/beian; nam est innocentia adfectio talis animi quae noceat nemini)—reliquas etiam virtutes frugalitas continet. quae nisi tanta esset, et si is angustiis, quibus plerique putant, teneretur, numquam esset L. Pisonis cognomen tanto opere laudatum.
And if these things are brought about by virtue, what reason is there why virtue itself, of itself, should not make men happy? — Well, the one cannot be denied: that those who fear nothing, are troubled by nothing, crave nothing, are carried away by no ungoverned joy, are happy; and so I grant you that. But the other is no longer an open question. For it was established in our earlier discussions that the wise man is free of every disturbance of the soul. — Then surely the matter is settled;
sed quia, nec qui propter metum praesidium reliquit, quod est ignaviae, nec qui propter avaritiam clam depositum non reddidit, quod est iniustitiae, nec qui propter temeritatem male rem gessit, quod est stultitiae, frugi appellari solet, eo tris virtutes, fortitudinem iustitiam prudentiam, frugalitas complexa est (etsi hoc quidem commune est virtutum; omnes enim inter se nexae et iugatae sunt ): reliqua igitur et quarta virtus sit ipsa frugalitas. eius enim videtur esse proprium motus animi adpetentis regere et sedare semperque adversantem libidini moderatam in omni re servare constantiam. cui contrarium vitium nequitia dicitur.
for the inquiry seems to have reached its conclusion. — Nearly so, indeed. — And yet that is the way of the mathematicians, not of the philosophers. For when geometers wish to teach something, if anything bearing on the matter belongs among the things they have taught before, they take it as granted and proven, and explain only that about which nothing has been written before; whereas philosophers, whatever subject they have in hand, gather into it everything that bears upon it, even if it has been argued elsewhere. Were it not so, why would a Stoic, if the question were raised whether virtue can suffice for the happy life, say a great deal? It would be enough for him to answer that he had shown before that nothing is good except what is honorable, and that, this being proved, it follows that the happy life is content with virtue; and just as this follows from that, so the other follows from this — that, if the happy life is content with virtue, then, unless a thing is honorable, nothing else is good.
frugalitas, ut opinor, a fruge, qua nihil melius e terra, nequitia ab eo (etsi erit hoc fortasse durius, sed temptemus: lusisse putemur, si nihil sit) ab eo, quod nequicquam est in tali homine, ex quo idem nihili dicitur.—qui sit frugi igitur vel, si mavis, moderatus et temperans, eum necesse est esse constantem; qui autem constans, quietum; qui quietus, perturbatione omni vacuum, ergo etiam aegritudine. et sunt illa sapientis: aberit igitur a sapiente aegritudo. Itaque non inscite Heracleotes Dionysius ad ea disputat, quae apud Homerum Achilles queritur hoc, ut opinor, modo: Corque meum penitus turgescit tristibus iris, Cum decore atque omni me orbatum laude recordor. num manus adfecta recte est, cum in tumore est, aut num aliud quodpiam membrum tumidum ac turgidum non vitiose se habet?
But still they do not proceed in that way; for there are separate books both on the honorable and on the highest good, and although it follows from the latter that there is power enough in virtue for living happily, none the less they treat this point separately. For each subject must be handled with its own proper arguments and reminders, a subject so great above all. For do not suppose that any voice more illustrious has been uttered in philosophy, or that any of philosophy’s promises is richer or greater. For what does it profess? Good gods! That it will bring it about, for the man who has obeyed its laws, that he be forever armed against fortune, that he hold within himself every safeguard of living well and happily — that, in short, he be forever happy.
sic igitur inflatus et tumens animus in vitio est. sapientis autem animus semper vacat vitio, numquam turgescit, numquam tumet; at irati animus eius modi est: numquam igitur sapiens irascitur. nam si irascitur, etiam concupiscit; proprium est enim irati cupere, a quo laesus videatur, ei quam maxumum dolorem inurere. qui autem id concupierit, eum necesse est, si id consecutus sit, magno opere laetari. ex quo fit, ut alieno malo gaudeat; quod quoniam non cadit in sapientem, ne ut irascatur quidem cadit. sin autem caderet in sapientem aegritudo, caderet etiam iracundia; qua quoniam vacat, aegritudine etiam vacabit.
But I shall see what it can accomplish; in the meantime I value this very thing greatly, that it makes the promise. For Xerxes, indeed, glutted with all the rewards and gifts of fortune, not content with his cavalry, not with his foot soldiers, not with his multitude of ships, not with his boundless weight of gold, offered a prize to whoever should discover a new pleasure — with which pleasure itself he was not content either, for desire will never find an end; I could wish that we might draw out by a prize someone who would bring us something by which we might believe this more firmly.
Etenim si sapiens in aegritudinem incidere posset, posset etiam in misericordiam, posset in invidentiam (non dixi invidiam, quae tum est, cum invidetur; ab invidendo autem invidentia recte dici potest, ut effugiamus ambiguum nomen invidiae. quod verbum ductum est a nimis intuendo fortunam alterius, ut est in Melanippo: quisnam florem liberum invidit meum? male Latine videtur, sed praeclare Accius; ut enim videre, sic invidere florem rectius quam flori. nos consuetudine prohibemur;
— I could wish that too; but I have one small point I would press. For I agree that, of the propositions you have set down, the one follows from the other: that just as, if only what is honorable is good, it follows that the happy life is brought about by virtue, so, if the happy life lies in virtue, nothing is good but virtue. But your friend Brutus, on the authority of Aristo and Antiochus, does not hold this; for he thinks that there is some good besides virtue. — What then?
poëta ius suum tenuit et dixit audacius)—cadit igitur in eundem et misereri et invidere. nam qui dolet rebus alicuius adversis, idem alicuius etiam secundis dolet, ut Theophrastus interitum deplorans Callisthenis sodalis sui, rebus Alexandri prosperis angitur, itaque dicit Callisthenem incidisse in hominem summa potentia summaque fortuna, sed ignarum quem ad modum rebus secundis uti conveniret. atqui, quem ad modum misericordia aegritudo est ex alterius rebus adversis, sic invidentia aegritudo est ex alterius rebus secundis. in quem igitur cadit misereri, in eundem etiam invidere; non cadit autem invidere in sapientem: ergo ne misereri quidem. quodsi aegre ferre sapiens soleret, misereri etiam soleret. abest ergo a sapiente aegritudo.
Do you suppose I shall speak against Brutus? — Just as you see fit; for to set limits beforehand is not my place. — What, then, is consistent with each view, we shall consider elsewhere. For on that matter I had a disagreement both with Antiochus often and with Aristo recently, when as commander I lodged with him at Athens. For it did not seem to me that anyone could be happy while he was in the midst of evils — and the wise man could be in the midst of evils, if there were any evils of the body or of fortune. These things were said — which Antiochus too wrote in several places — that virtue itself, of itself, can bring about the happy life, but not the happiest; further, that most things take their name from the greater part, even if some part should be missing — as strength, as health, as riches, as honor, as glory, which are reckoned by their kind, not by their number; and likewise that the happy life, even if it should be lame in some part, none the less holds its name from the much greater part.
Haec sic dicuntur a Stoicis concludunturque contortius. sed latius aliquando dicenda sunt et diffusius; sententiis tamen utendum eorum potissimum, qui maxime forti et, ut ita dicam, virili utuntur ratione atque sententia. nam Peripatetici, familiares nostri, quibus nihil est uberius, nihil eruditius, nihil gravius, mediocritates vel perturbationum vel morborum animi mihi non sane probant. omne enim malum, etiam mediocre, malum est; nos autem id agimus, ut id in sapiente nullum sit omnino. nam ut corpus, etiamsi mediocriter aegrum est, sanum non est, sic in animo ista mediocritas caret sanitate. itaque praeclare nostri, ut alia multa, molestiam sollicitudinem angorem propter similitudinem corporum aegrorum aegritudinem nominaverunt.
It is not so necessary now to thresh these matters out, although they seem to me said not very consistently. For both, in the case of the man who is happy, I do not see what he should want in order to be happier — for if there is something he lacks, he is not even happy at all — and, as for their saying that each thing is named and regarded from the greater part, there is a place where this holds in that way; but when they say there are three kinds of evils, and a man is pressed by all the evils of two of those kinds — so that everything in his fortune is adverse, and his body is wholly overwhelmed and worn out with pains — shall we say that this man falls just a little short of the happy life, not to say the happiest?
hoc propemodum verbo Graeci omnem animi perturbationem appellant; vocant enim pa/qos, id est morbum, quicumque est motus in animo turbidus. nos melius: aegris enim corporibus simillima animi est aegritudo, at non similis aegrotationis est libido, non inmoderata laetitia, quae est voluptas animi elata et gestiens. ipse etiam metus non est morbi admodum similis, quamquam aegritudini est finitimus, sed proprie, ut aegrotatio in corpore, sic aegritudo in animo nomen habet non seiunctum a dolore. doloris huius igitur origo nobis explicanda est, id est causa efficiens aegritudinem in animo tamquam aegrotationem in corpore. nam ut medici causa morbi inventa curationem esse inventam putant, sic nos causa aegritudinis reperta medendi facultatem reperiemus.
This is the very thing that Theophrastus could not maintain. For when he had laid it down that lashings, tortures, torments, the overthrows of one’s country, exiles, the loss of children have great force toward living badly and wretchedly, he did not dare to speak loftily and largely, since he felt humbly and meanly. How well he felt is not the question — consistently, at any rate, beyond doubt. And so it is not my habit to find fault with what follows, when you have granted the premises. But this man, the most elegant and most learned of all philosophers, is not greatly faulted when he says there are three kinds of goods; he is harried, however, by everyone, above all in that book which he wrote on the happy life, in which he argues at length why a man who is tortured, who is racked, cannot be happy. In it he is also thought to say that the happy life does not mount the wheel — that being a certain kind of torture among the Greeks. He nowhere says that at all, in fact, but what he does say comes to the same thing.
Est igitur causa omnis in opinione, nec vero aegritudinis solum, sed etiam reliquarum omnium perturbationum, quae sunt genere quattuor, partibus plures. nam cum omnis perturbatio sit animi motus vel rationis expers vel rationem aspernans vel rationi non oboediens, isque motus aut boni aut mali opinione citetur bifariam, quattuor perturbationes aequaliter distributae sunt. nam duae sunt ex opinione boni; quarum altera, voluptas gestiens, id est praeter modum elata laetitia, opinione praesentis magni alicuius boni, altera, cupiditas, quae recte vel libido dici potest, quae est inmoderata adpetitio opinati magni boni rationi non obtemperans,
Can I, then, who have granted that bodily pains are among evils, that the shipwrecks of fortune are among evils, be angry with him for saying that not all good men are happy, when those things which he reckons among evils can fall upon all good men? This same Theophrastus is harried in both the books and the schools of all the philosophers, because in his Callisthenes he praised that maxim: Fortune, not wisdom, rules our life. They say that nothing more spineless was ever uttered by any philosopher. Rightly so, indeed; but I do not see that anything more consistent could have been said. For if there are so many goods in the body, so many outside the body in chance and fortune, is it not consistent that fortune — which is the mistress of all things both external and pertaining to the body — should have more power than counsel?
—ergo haec duo genera, voluptas gestiens et libido, bonorum opinione turbantur, ut duo reliqua, metus et aegritudo, malorum. nam et metus opinio magni mali inpendentis et aegritudo est opinio magni mali praesentis, et quidem recens opinio talis mali, ut in eo rectum videatur esse angi, id autem est, ut is qui doleat oportere opinetur se dolere. his autem perturbationibus, quas in vitam hominum stultitia quasi quasdam Furias inmittit atque incitat, omnibus viribus atque opibus repugnandum est, si volumus hoc, quod datum est vitae, tranquille placideque traducere. Sed cetera alias; nunc aegritudinem, si possumus, depellamus. id enim sit propositum, quandoquidem eam tu videri tibi in sapientem cadere dixisti, quod ego nullo modo existimo; taetra enim res est, misera, detestabilis, omni contentione, velis, ut ita dicam, remisque fugienda.
Or do we prefer to imitate Epicurus? Who often says many fine things; for how consistently and coherently he speaks with himself does not trouble him. He praises a frugal way of life. The remark of a philosopher, indeed — but only if a Socrates or an Antisthenes said it, not the man who declared pleasure to be the end of goods. He denies that anyone can live pleasantly unless he also lives honorably, wisely, and justly. Nothing weightier, nothing worthier of philosophy — were it not that he refers this very honorable, wise, and just living to pleasure. What is better than: that fortune intrudes but little upon the wise man? But does he say this — he who, after declaring pain to be not only the greatest evil but the only evil, can be overwhelmed in his whole body by the sharpest pains at the very moment when he most boasts against fortune? The same thing Metrodorus put in even better words:
qualis enim tibi ille videtur Ta/ntalo progna/tus, Pelope na/tus, qui quondam a/ socru Oe/nomao rege Hi/ppodameam ra/ptis nanctus nu/ptiis—? Iovis iste quidem pronepos. tamne ergo abiectus tamque fractus? Noli/te inquit hospite/s ad me adi/re, ilico i/stic, Ne co/ntagio/ mea boni/s umbrave o/bsit. Tanta vis sce/leris in co/rpore hae/ret. tu te, Thyesta, damnabis orbabisque luce propter vim sceleris alieni? quid? illum filium Solis nonne patris ipsius luce indignum putas? Refu/gere oculi, co/rpus macie exta/buit, Lacrimae/ peredere u/more exangui/s genas, Situm i/nter oris bárba paedore hórrida atque Intónsa infuscat péctus inluvié scabrum. haec mala, o stultissime Aeeta, ipse tibi addidisti; non inerant in is quae tibi casus invexerat, et quidem inveterato malo, cum tumor animi resedisset—est autem aegritudo, ut docebo, in opinione mali recentis —; sed maeres videlicet regni desiderio, non filiae. illam enim oderas, et iure fortasse; regno non aequo animo carebas. est autem inpudens luctus maerore se conficientis, quod imperare non liceat liberis.
I have forestalled you, he says, Fortune, and laid hold of you, and blocked up all your approaches, so that you cannot reach me. Splendid — if Aristo of Chios or the Stoic Zeno had said it, men who counted nothing evil except what was base; but you, Metrodorus, who lodged every good in the entrails and the marrow, and defined the highest good as bounded by a sound condition of the body and the assured hope of its continuance — you have blocked up the approaches of Fortune? How so? For of that very good you can be stripped at any moment. And yet by such talk the inexperienced are caught, and on account of maxims of this kind the crowd that follows these men is large;
Dionysius quidem tyrannus Syracusis expulsus Corinthi pueros docebat: usque eo imperio carere non poterat. Tarquinio vero quid impudentius, qui bellum gereret cum is qui eius non tulerant superbiam? is cum restitui in regnum nec Veientium nec Latinorum armis potuisset, Cumas contulisse se dicitur inque ea urbe senio et aegritudine esse confectus. Hoc tu igitur censes sapienti accidere posse, ut aegritudine opprimatur, id est miseria? nam cum omnis perturbatio miseria est, tum carnificina est aegritudo. habet ardorem libido, levitatem laetitia gestiens, humilitatem metus, sed aegritudo maiora quaedam, tabem cruciatum adflictationem foeditatem, lacerat exest animum planeque conficit. hanc nisi exuimus sic ut abiciamus, miseria carere non possumus.
but it is the mark of one who argues acutely to see, not what each man says, but what each man ought to say. As, for instance, in the very position which we have taken up in this discussion, we hold that all good men are always happy. Whom I call good men is plain; for those equipped and adorned with all the virtues we call now wise men, now good men. Let us see who are to be called happy.
Atque hoc quidem perspicuum est, tum aegritudinem existere, cum quid ita visum sit, ut magnum quoddam malum adesse et urgere videatur. Epicuro autem placet opinionem mali aegritudinem esse natura, ut, quicumque intueatur in aliquod maius malum, si id sibi accidisse opinetur, sit continuo in aegritudine. Cyrenaici non omni malo aegritudinem effici censent, sed insperato et necopinato malo. est id quidem non mediocre ad aegritudinem augendam: videntur enim omnia repentina graviora. ex hoc et illa iure laudantur: E/go cum genui, tu/m morituros sci/vi et ei rei su/stuli. Prae/terea ad Troia/m cum misi ob de/fendendam Grae/ciam, Sci/bam me in morti/ferum bellum, no/n in epulas mi/ttere.
For my part, I judge them to be those who are among goods with no evil joined to them; nor is any other notion attached to this word, when we say "happy," than the full assemblage of goods, with all evils set apart. This virtue cannot attain, if there is any good besides itself. For there will be present a certain throng of evils, if we count those things evils: poverty, obscurity, low standing, loneliness, the loss of one’s own, grievous bodily pains, ruined health, infirmity, blindness, the destruction of one’s country, exile, slavery at the last. Amid these so many and so great evils — and yet more can befall — the wise man can find himself; for these chance brings on, and chance can run upon the wise man. But if these are evils, who can guarantee that the wise man will always be happy, when he may be in the midst of them all at one and the same time?
haec igitur praemeditatio futurorum malorum lenit eorum adventum, quae venientia longe ante videris. itaque apud Euripiden a Theseo dicta laudantur; licet enim, ut saepe facimus, in Latinum illa convertere: Nam qui hae/c audita a do/cto meminisse/m viro, Futu/ras mecum co/mmentabar mi/serias: Aut mo/rtem acerbam aut e/xili maesta/m fugam Aut se/mper aliquam mo/lem meditaba/r mali, Ut, si/ qua invecta di/ritas casu/ foret, Ne me i/nparatum cu/ra lacerare/t repens.
I do not, then, easily grant — neither to my own Brutus, nor to our common masters, nor to those ancients, Aristotle, Speusippus, Xenocrates, Polemo — that, while they count among evils the things I enumerated above, they should yet say that the wise man is always happy. If this distinction delights them, splendid and beautiful and most worthy of Pythagoras, Socrates, and Plato, let them bring their minds to despise those things by whose splendor they are caught — strength, health, beauty, riches, honors, resources — and to count as nothing the things contrary to these: then they will be able to declare with the clearest voice that they are terrified neither by the onset of fortune, nor by the opinion of the crowd, nor by pain, nor by poverty, and that everything for them is lodged within themselves, and that there is nothing outside their own power which they reckon among goods.
quod autem Theseus a docto se audisse dicit, id de se ipso loquitur Euripides. fuerat enim auditor Anaxagorae, quem ferunt nuntiata morte filii dixisse: sciebam me genuisse mortalem. quae vox declarat is esse haec acerba, quibus non fuerint cogitata. ergo id quidem non dubium, quin omnia, quae mala putentur, sint inprovisa graviora. itaque quamquam non haec una res efficit maximam aegritudinem, tamen, quoniam multum potest provisio animi et praeparatio ad minuendum dolorem, sint semper omnia homini humana meditata. et nimirum haec est illa praestans et divina sapientia, et perceptas penitus et pertractatas res humanas habere, nihil admirari, cum acciderit, nihil, ante quam evenerit, non evenire posse arbitrari. Quam ob rem o/mnis, cum secu/ndae res sunt ma/xume, tum ma/xume Medita/ri secum opo/rtet, quo pacto a/dversam aerumna/m ferant. Peri/cla, damna pe/regre rediens se/mper secum co/gitet, Aut fi/li peccatum au/t uxoris mo/rtem aut morbum fi/liae, Commu/nia esse haec, ne/ quid horum umquam a/ccidat animo/ novum; Quicqui/d praeter spem eve/niat, omne id de/putare esse i/n lucro. ergo hoc Terentius a philosophia sumptum cum tam commode dixerit, nos, e quorum fontibus id haustum est, non et dicemus hoc melius et constantius sentiemus?
To say these things now — which belong to some great and lofty man — and at the same time to reckon among evils and goods what the crowd reckons there, can in no way be allowed. Stirred by that glory Epicurus comes forward; to him too, if you please, the wise man seems always happy. He is captivated by the dignity of this opinion; but he would never say it, if he listened to himself. For what is there less consistent than that the very man who says that pain is either the highest or the only evil should also hold that the wise man will say, even while he is racked with pain, "How sweet this is!"? Philosophers, then, are not to be judged from single utterances, but from their continuity and consistency.
hic est enim ille voltus semper idem, quem dicitur Xanthippe praedicare solita in viro suo fuisse Socrate: eodem semper se vidisse exeuntem illum domo et revertentem. Nec vero ea frons erat, quae M. Crassi illius veteris, quem semel ait in omni vita risisse Lucilius, sed tranquilla et serena; sic enim accepimus. iure autem erat semper idem voltus, cum mentis, a qua is fingitur, nulla fieret mutatio. quare accipio equidem a Cyrenaicis haec arma contra casus et eventus, quibus eorum advenientes impetus diuturna praemeditatione frangantur, simulque iudico malum illud opinionis esse, non naturae; si enim in re esset, cur fierent provisa leviora?
You bring me to agree with you. But see that your own consistency, too, is not found wanting. — How so? — Because I lately read your fourth book on the ends of good and evil; in it you seemed to me, in arguing against Cato, to wish to show this — which for my part I do approve — that between Zeno and the Peripatetics there is nothing at issue but a novelty of terms. And if that is so, what reason is there why, if it is consistent with Zeno’s account that there should be force enough in virtue for living happily, the same should not be open to the Peripatetics to say? For the matter, I think, is what ought to be looked at, not the words.
Sed est, isdem de rebus quod dici possit subtilius, si prius Epicuri sententiam viderimus. qui censet necesse esse omnis in aegritudine esse, qui se in malis esse arbitrentur, sive illa ante provisa et expectata sint sive inveteraverint. nam neque vetustate minui mala nec fieri praemeditata leviora, stultamque etiam esse meditationem futuri mali aut fortasse ne futuri quidem: satis esse odiosum malum omne, cum venisset; qui autem semper cogitavisset accidere posse aliquid adversi, ei fieri illud sempiternum malum; si vero ne futurum quidem sit, frustra suscipi miseriam voluntariam; ita semper angi aut accipiendo aut cogitando malo.
You deal with me by sealed documents, calling to witness what I once said or wrote. Do that with others, who debate under imposed rules; we live from day to day. Whatever has struck our minds with probability, that we say; and so we alone are free. Yet since we spoke a little earlier about consistency, I do not think the question to be asked here is whether it is true — what was Zeno’s view, and his pupil Aristo’s, that the only good is the honorable — but whether, if it were so, it would then be consistent to rest this whole business of living happily in virtue alone.
Levationem autem aegritudinis in duabus rebus ponit, avocatione a cogitanda molestia et revocatione ad contemplandas voluptates. parere enim censet animum rationi posse et, quo illa ducat, sequi. vetat igitur ratio intueri molestias, abstrahit ab acerbis cogitationibus, hebetem aciem ad miserias contemplandas facit; a quibus cum cecinit receptui, inpellit rursum et incitat ad conspiciendas totaque mente contrectandas varias voluptates, quibus ille et praeteritarum memoria et spe consequentium sapientis vitam refertam putat. Haec nostro more nos diximus, Epicurii dicunt suo; sed quae dicant, videamus, quo modo, neglegamus.
So let us grant Brutus this much, by all means — that the wise man is always happy. How far this is consistent with himself, let him see to it; as for the glory of this opinion, who is worthier of it than that man? Yet let us hold to our point: that he is also supremely happy. And though Zeno of Citium, a kind of newcomer and obscure artificer of words, seems to have insinuated himself into the ancient philosophy, the weight of this opinion may be traced back to the authority of Plato, in whom this manner of speaking is often employed — that nothing is called good except virtue. So in the Gorgias Socrates, when he had been asked whether he did not think Archelaus the son of Perdiccas, who was then held the most fortunate of men, a happy man, replied, "I do not know;
Principio male reprehendunt praemeditationem rerum futurarum. nihil est enim quod tam optundat elevetque aegritudinem quam perpetua in omni vita cogitatio nihil esse quod non accidere possit, quam meditatio condicionis humanae, quam vitae lex commentatioque parendi, quae non hoc adfert, ut semper maereamus, sed ut numquam. neque enim, qui rerum naturam, qui vitae varietatem, qui inbecillitatem generis humani cogitat, maeret, cum haec cogitat, sed tum vel maxime sapientiae fungitur munere: utrumque enim consequitur, ut et considerandis rebus humanis proprio philosophiae fruatur officio et adversis casibus triplici consolatione sanetur, primum quod nihil ei accidit nisi quod posse accidere diu cogitaverit, quae cogitatio una maxime molestias omnis extenuat et diluit, deinde quod humana humane ferenda intellegit, postremo quod videt malum nullum esse nisi culpam, culpam autem nullam esse, cum id, quod ab homine non potuerit praestari, evenerit.
for I have never talked with him." — Is that so? Can you not know it any other way? — In no way. — Then you cannot say even of the great king of the Persians whether he is happy? — How could I, when I do not know how learned he is, how good a man? — What? Do you think the happy life consists in that? — Just so, entirely; I judge the good to be happy, the wicked wretched. — Archelaus, then, is wretched? — Certainly, if he is unjust.
Nam revocatio illa, quam adfert, cum a contuendis nos malis avocat, nulla est. non est enim in nostra potestate fodicantibus is rebus, quas malas esse opinemur, dissimulatio vel oblivio: lacerant, vexant, stimulos admovent, ignis adhibent, respirare non sinunt, et tu oblivisci iubes, quod contra naturam est, qui, quod a natura datum est, auxilium extorqueas inveterati doloris? est enim tarda illa quidem medicina, sed tamen magna, quam adfert longinquitas et dies. Iubes me bona cogitare, oblivisci malorum. diceres aliquid, et magno quidem philosopho dignum, si ea bona esse sentires, quae essent homine dignissima. Pythagoras mihi si diceret aut Socrates aut Plato:
Does he not seem here to rest the whole happy life in virtue alone? And what of this — how does the same man speak in the funeral oration? "For the man to whom all things that bear on living happily depend on himself, and are not left hanging on the good or ill chance of others, nor forced to drift with another’s fortunes — for him the way of living best has been provided. He it is who is moderate, he who is brave, he who is wise; he it is who, when goods come and when they go — children above all, with the rest of his comforts — will yield and obey that old precept: for he will never rejoice too much nor grieve too much, because he sets all his hope of himself always in himself." From Plato, then, as from a kind of holy and august spring, all our discourse will flow. From where, then, can we more rightly begin than from our common parent, nature?
quid iaces aut quid maeres aut cur succumbis cedisque fortunae? quae pervellere te forsitan potuerit et pungere, non potuit certe vires frangere. magna vis est in virtutibus; eas excita, si forte dormiunt. iam tibi aderit princeps fortitudo, quae te animo tanto esse coget, ut omnia, quae possint homini evenire, contemnas et pro nihilo putes. aderit temperantia, quae est eadem moderatio, a me quidem paulo ante appellata frugalitas, quae te turpiter et nequiter facere nihil patietur. quid est autem nequius aut turpius ecfeminato viro? ne iustitia quidem sinet te ista facere, cui minimum esse videtur in hac causa loci; quae tamen ita dicet dupliciter esse te iniustum, cum et alienum adpetas, qui mortalis natus condicionem postules inmortalium et graviter feras te, quod utendum acceperis, reddidisse.
Nature willed that whatever she has brought forth — not only the animal, but also that which has so sprung from the earth as to be held up by its own roots — should be perfect, each thing in its own kind. And so trees and vines, and the lowlier things that cannot lift themselves higher from the ground — some are forever green, others, stripped bare in winter, put out leaves when the spring has warmed them; and there is nothing that does not so thrive, by a certain inner motion and by the seeds shut up in each, that it pours forth either flowers or fruits or berries; and all things, in all things, so far as lies in them, are perfect when no force stands in the way.
prudentiae vero quid respondebis docenti virtutem sese esse contentam, quo modo ad bene vivendum, sic etiam ad beate? quae si extrinsecus religata pendeat et non et oriatur a se et rursus ad se revertatur et omnia sua complexa nihil quaerat aliunde, non intellego, cur aut verbis tam vehementer ornanda aut re tantopere expetenda videatur —ad haec bona me si revocas, Epicure, pareo, sequor, utor te ipso duce, obliviscor etiam malorum, ut iubes, eoque facilius, quod ea ne in malis quidem ponenda censeo. sed traducis cogitationes meas ad voluptates. quas? corporis, credo, aut quae propter corpus vel recordatione vel spe cogitentur. num quid est aliud? rectene interpretor sententiam tuam? solent enim isti negare nos intellegere, quid dicat Epicurus.
But the force of nature herself can be discerned even more easily in the beasts, because to them sense has been given by nature. For some beasts nature willed to be swimmers and dwellers in the waters; others, winged, to enjoy the free sky; some to be crawlers, some walkers; and of these themselves, some to range alone, some to gather in herds; some to be savage, others tame; some to be hidden away and covered by the earth. And each of them, keeping to its own office, since it cannot cross over into the life of an unlike creature, abides in the law of nature. And just as to the beasts something distinct was given to each by nature, which each retains as its own and does not depart from, so to man something far more excellent was given — though only those things ought to be called excellent that admit of some comparison. The human mind, plucked from the divine intelligence, can be compared with nothing else but God himself, if it is right to say so.
hoc dicit, et hoc ille acriculus me audiente Athenis senex Zeno, istorum acutissimus, contendere et magna voce dicere solebat: eum esse beatum, qui praesentibus voluptatibus frueretur confideretque se fruiturum aut in omni aut in magna parte vitae dolore non interveniente, aut si interveniret, si summus foret, futurum brevem, sin productior, plus habiturum iucundi quam mali; haec cogitantem fore beatum, praesertim cum et ante perceptis bonis contentus esset et nec mortem nec deos extimesceret. habes formam Epicuri vitae beatae verbis Zenonis expressam, nihil ut possit negari. Quid ergo?
If, then, this mind has been cultivated, and if its keen edge has been so tended that it is not blinded by errors, it becomes perfect intelligence — that is, completed reason — which is the same as virtue. And if everything is happy that lacks nothing, and that is filled out and brought to fullness in its own kind, and if this is the property of virtue, then surely all who possess virtue are happy. And here I agree with Brutus — that is, with Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, Polemo. But to me they seem also supremely happy.
huiusne vitae propositio et cogitatio aut Thyestem levare poterit aut Aeetam, de quo paulo ante dixi, aut Telamonem pulsum patria exulantem atque egentem? in quo haec admiratio fiebat: Hi/cine est ille Te/lamon, modo quem glo/ria ad caelum e/xtulit, Quem a/spectabant, cui/us ob os Grai o/ra obverteba/nt sua?
For what is lacking for living happily to the man who trusts in his own goods? Or how can one who distrusts them be happy? And distrust them he must, who divides goods into three kinds. For how will he be able to trust in the firmness of his body or the stability of fortune? Yet without a good that is stable and fixed and lasting, no one can be happy. What, then, of theirs is of that sort? So that the saying of the Laconian seems to me to fall upon these men — who, to a certain merchant boasting that he had sent out many ships to every coast of the sea, said, "That fortune, hung upon ropes, is not greatly to be desired." Is there any doubt that nothing is to be counted among the things by which the happy life is filled out, if it can be lost? For nothing of those things in which the happy life consists ought to wither, nothing to be quenched, nothing to fall away. For whoever fears to lose any of them cannot be happy.
quodsi cui, ut ait idem, simul animus cum re concidit, a gravibus illis antiquis philosophis petenda medicina est, non ab his voluptariis. quam enim isti bonorum copiam dicunt? fac sane esse summum bonum non dolere—quamquam id non vocatur voluptas, sed non necesse est nunc omnia—: idne est, quo traducti luctum levemus? sit sane summum malum dolere: in eo igitur qui non est, si malo careat, continuone fruitur summo bono?
For we want the man who is happy to be safe, unassailable, fenced about and fortified — not so as to be furnished with some small fear, but with none at all. For just as a man is called blameless not who does slight harm, but who does no harm, so he is to be held free from fear not who fears small things, but who is altogether empty of fear. For what else is courage but a disposition of the mind that endures in facing danger and in toil and pain, and at the same time stands far off from all fear? And these things surely would not be so, unless every good consisted in the honorable alone.
Quid tergiversamur, Epicure, nec fatemur eam nos dicere voluptatem, quam tu idem, cum os perfricuisti, soles dicere? sunt haec tua verba necne? in eo quidem libro, qui continet omnem disciplinam tuam,—fungar enim iam interpretis munere, ne quis me putet fingere—dicis haec: nec equidem habeo, quod intellegam bonum illud, detrahens eas voluptates quae sapore percipiuntur, detrahens eas quae rebus percipiuntur veneriis, detrahens eas quae auditu e cantibus, detrahens eas etiam quae ex formis percipiuntur oculis suavis motiones, sive quae aliae voluptates in toto homine gignuntur quolibet sensu. nec vero ita dici potest, mentis laetitiam solam esse in bonis. laetantem enim mentem ita novi: spe eorum omnium, quae supra dixi, fore ut natura is potiens dolore careat.
And how can anyone possess that most longed-for and sought-after security — by security I now mean freedom from distress, in which the happy life is set — when there is, or can be, a multitude of evils close upon him? How can anyone be lofty and upright, counting all that can befall a man as small — such as we want the wise man to be — unless he reckons that all his goods rest within himself? When Philip threatened the Spartans by letter that he would block everything they attempted, did they not ask whether he would block them even from dying? Will not the man we are seeking be found far more readily with such a spirit than a whole state was found? What more? When to this courage of which we speak temperance is joined — the moderator of all commotions — what can be lacking for living happily to the man whom courage delivers from distress and from fear, while temperance both calls him away from lust and does not let him exult in any insolent excitement? That virtue brings these things about I would show, were they not set out in the earlier days.
atque haec quidem his verbis, quivis ut intellegat, quam voluptatem norit Epicurus. deinde paulo infra: saepe quaesivi inquit ex is qui appellabantur sapientes, quid haberent quod in bonis relinquerent, si illa detraxissent, nisi si vellent voces inanis fundere: nihil ab is potui cognoscere. qui si virtutes ebullire volent et sapientias, nihil aliud dicent nisi eam viam, qua efficiantur eae voluptates quas supra dixi. quae secuntur, in eadem sententia sunt, totusque liber, qui est de summo bono, refertus est et verbis et sententiis talibus.
And since disturbances of the mind make for misery, while their calming makes life happy, and the account of disturbance is twofold — for distress and fear turn upon imagined evils, while exultant gladness and lust turn upon a mistaken view of goods, all of them at war with counsel and reason — when you have seen a man empty of these so weighty agitations, so much at variance and at odds among themselves, and so set loose and free, will you hesitate to call him happy? But the wise man is always so disposed; the wise man, therefore, is always happy. And further: every good is a thing to rejoice in; and what is to be rejoiced in is to be proclaimed and carried before one; and what is of that sort is also a thing of glory; and if of glory, then surely praiseworthy; and what is praiseworthy is assuredly also honorable.
ad hancine igitur vitam Telamonem illum revocabis, ut leves aegritudinem, et si quem tuorum adflictum maerore videris, huic acipenserem potius quam aliquem Socraticum libellum dabis? hydrauli hortabere ut audiat voces potius quam Platonis? expones, quae spectet, florida et varia? fasciculum ad naris admovebis? incendes odores et sertis redimiri iubebis et rosa? si vero aliquid etiam—, tum plane luctum omnem absterseris.
What is good, therefore, is honorable. But the things these men reckon among goods, not even they themselves call honorable; the only good, then, is the honorable. From which it follows that the happy life is contained in the honorable alone. Those things, then, are not to be called goods, nor to be held such, in which a man may abound and yet be utterly wretched.
haec Epicuro confitenda sunt aut ea, quae modo expressa ad verbum dixi, tollenda de libro vel totus liber potius abiciundus; est enim confertus voluptatibus. Quaerendum igitur, quem ad modum aegritudine privemus eum qui ita dicat: Pol mi/hi fortuna ma/gis nunc defit qua/m genus. Na/mque regnum su/ppetebat mi, u/t scias, quanto e/ loco, Qua/ntis opibus, qui/bus de rebus la/psa fortuna a/ccidat. quid? huic calix mulsi impingendus est, ut plorare desinat, aut aliquid eius modi? ecce tibi ex altera parte ab eodem poëta; ex opibus summis opis egens, Hector, tuae —huic subvenire debemus; quaerit enim auxilium: Qui/d petam prae/sidi aut e/xequar quo/ve nunc Au/xilio e/xili au/t fugae fre/ta sim? A/rce et urbe o/rba sum. quo a/ccidam? quo a/pplicem? Cui/ nec arae pa/triae domi stant, fra/ctae et disiectae/ iacent, Fa/na flamma de/flagrata, to/sti alti stant pa/rietes De/formati atque a/biete crispa— scitis quae sequantur, et illa in primis: O pa/ter, o patria, o Pri/ami domus, Saeptum a/ltisono cardi/ne templum! Vidi e/go te adstante ope ba/rbarica Tecti/s caelatis la/queatis, Auro e/bore instructam re/gifice.
Or do you doubt that a man outstanding in health, strength, beauty, with the keenest and soundest senses — add even, if you like, agility and speed, throw in riches, honors, commands, power, glory — if the man who has these be unjust, intemperate, cowardly, of a dull and worthless wit, you would not hesitate to call him wretched? Of what sort, then, are those goods which the man who has them can be utterly wretched? Let us consider whether, just as a heap is made of grains of its own kind, so the happy life ought to be made of parts that resemble itself. And if that is so, it must be made of goods that are honorable alone; if these shall be mixed of unlike things, nothing honorable can be made of them; and once that is taken away, what can be understood as happy? For whatever is good is a thing to be desired; and what is to be desired is surely to be approved; and what you have approved is to be held welcome and acceptable; and so worth must be assigned to it as well. And if that is so, it must of necessity be praiseworthy; every good, then, is praiseworthy. From which it follows that what is honorable is the only good.
o poëtam egregium! quamquam ab his cantoribus Euphorionis contemnitur. sentit omnia repentina et necopinata esse graviora; exaggeratis igitur regiis opibus, quae videbantur sempiternae fore, quid adiungit? Haec o/mnia vidi infla/mmari, Priamo/ vi vitam evi/tari, Iovis a/ram sanguine tu/rpari.
For unless we hold to this firmly, there will be many things that we shall have to call goods. I leave aside riches — which, since anyone, however unworthy, may possess them, I do not count among goods, for what is a good cannot be possessed by just anyone; I leave aside nobility and a fame stirred up by the agreement of fools and rogues: yet these, though they are the least of things, must still be called goods — bright little teeth, charming eyes, a pleasing complexion, and the things that Anticlea praises while washing the feet of Ulysses: the smoothness of his speech, the softness of his body. If we shall reckon these as goods, what will there be in a philosopher’s gravity that can be called either weightier or grander than what is in the opinion of the crowd and the throng of fools?
praeclarum carmen! est enim et rebus et verbis et modis lugubre. Eripiamus huic aegritudinem. quo modo? conlocemus in culcita plumea, psaltriam adducamus, demus hedycrum, odorum incendamus scutellam, dulciculae potionis aliquid videamus et cibi? haec tandem bona sunt, quibus aegritudines gravissumae detrahantur? tu enim paulo ante ne intellegere quidem te alia ulla dicebas. revocari igitur oportere a maerore ad cogitationem bonorum conveniret mihi cum Epicuro, si, quid esset bonum, conveniret. Dicet aliquis: quid ergo? tu Epicurum existimas ista voluisse, aut libidinosas eius fuisse sententias? ego vero minime; video enim ab eo dici multa severe, multa praeclare. itaque, ut saepe dixi, de acumine agitur eius, non de moribus; quamvis spernat voluptates eas quas modo laudavit, ego tamen meminero quod videatur ei summum bonum. non enim verbo solum posuit voluptatem, sed explanavit quid diceret: saporem inquit et corporum complexum et ludos atque cantus et formas eas quibus oculi iucunde moveantur. num fingo, num mentior? cupio refelli. quid enim laboro nisi ut veritas in omni quaestione explicetur?
But, you say, the Stoics call these same things "preferred" or "advanced," which your school calls goods. They do call them so, to be sure; but they deny that the happy life is made complete by them — whereas these others think there is no happy life without them, or, if there is, certainly deny it is the happiest. We, however, will have it the happiest, and this is confirmed for us by that Socratic chain of reasoning. For thus did that prince of philosophy argue: as the disposition of each man’s soul is, such is the man; and as the man himself is, such is his speech; and his deeds are like his speech, and his life like his deeds. But the disposition of a good man’s soul is praiseworthy; and so the life of a good man is praiseworthy; and therefore honorable, since praiseworthy. From which it is concluded that the life of good men is happy.
’at idem ait non crescere voluptatem dolore detracto, summamque esse voluptatem nihil dolere. ’ paucis verbis tria magna peccata: unum, quod secum ipse pugnat. modo enim ne suspicari quidem se quicquam bonum, nisi sensus quasi titillarentur voluptate; nunc autem summam voluptatem esse dolore carere: potestne magis secum ipse pugnare? alterum peccatum, quod, cum in natura tria sint, unum gaudere, alterum dolere, tertium nec gaudere nec dolere, hic primum et tertium putat idem esse nec distinguit a non dolendo voluptatem. tertium peccatum commune cum quibusdam, quod, cum virtus maxime expetatur eiusque adipiscendae causa philosophia quaesita sit, ille a virtute summum bonum separavit.
For, by the faith of gods and men! — was it too little established in our earlier discussions, or did we speak merely for delight and to pass the leisure hours, that the wise man is always free from every commotion of soul, which I call a disturbance, and that there is always in his soul the most placid peace? A man, then, who is temperate, steadfast, without fear, without distress, without idle elation, without lust — is he not happy? But the wise man is always such; therefore he is always happy. And further, how can a good man fail to refer to what is praiseworthy everything that he does and everything that he feels? But he refers everything to living happily; therefore the happy life is praiseworthy; and nothing is praiseworthy without virtue: therefore the happy life is brought about by virtue.
’at laudat saepe virtutem’. et quidem C. Gracchus, cum largitiones maximas fecisset et effudisset aerarium, verbis tamen defendebat aerarium. quid verba audiam, cum facta videam? L. Piso ille Frugi semper contra legem frumentariam dixerat. is lege lata consularis ad frumentum accipiundum venerat. animum advertit Gracchus in contione Pisonem stantem; quaerit audiente p. R., qui sibi constet, cum ea lege frumentum petat, quam dissuaserit. nolim inquit mea bona, Gracche, tibi viritim dividere libeat, sed, si facias, partem petam. parumne declaravit vir gravis et sapiens lege Sempronia patrimonium publicum dissupari? lege orationes Gracchi, patronum aerarii esse dices.
And this too is concluded in the following way: there is nothing to be proclaimed or gloried in either in a wretched life or in one that is neither wretched nor happy. And yet in some life there is something to be proclaimed and gloried in and held up before the world, as in Epaminondas: by our counsels the glory of the Spartans was shorn; or in Africanus: from the rising of the sun above the marshes of Maeotis, there is no man who can match my deeds.
negat Epicurus iucunde posse vivi, nisi cum virtute vivatur, negat ullam in sapientem vim esse fortunae, tenuem victum antefert copioso, negat ullum esse tempus, quo sapiens non beatus sit. omnia philosopho digna, sed cum voluptate pugnantia. non istam dicit voluptatem. dicat quamlibet; nempe eam dicit, in qua virtutis nulla pars insit. age, si voluptatem non intellegimus, ne dolorem quidem? nego igitur eius esse, qui dolore summum malum metiatur, mentionem facere virtutis.
And if this is so, then the happy life is to be gloried in and proclaimed and held up before the world; for there is nothing else that ought to be proclaimed and held up before the world. With these things laid down, you understand what follows. And indeed, unless that life is happy which is also honorable, it follows of necessity that there is something better than the happy life; for whatever shall be honorable, they will certainly admit to be better. So the happy life will be something less than another thing; and what can be said more perverse than that? What of this? When they admit that there is force enough in vices to make a life wretched, must it not be admitted that there is the same force in virtue to make it happy? For of contraries the consequences are contrary.
Et queruntur quidam Epicurei, viri optimi—nam nullum genus est minus malitiosum—, me studiose dicere contra Epicurum. ita credo, de honore aut de dignitate contendimus. mihi summum in animo bonum videtur, illi autem in corpore, mihi in virtute, illi in voluptate. et illi pugnant, et quidem vicinorum fidem implorant—multi autem sunt, qui statim convolent —; ego sum is qui dicam me non laborare, actum habiturum, quod egerint.
At this point I ask what force there is in that balance of Critolaus, who, when he places the goods of the soul in one pan and the goods of the body and external goods in the other, thinks the pan of the soul’s goods weighs down so heavily that it would sink the earth and the seas. What, then, prevents either this man, or that gravest of philosophers Xenocrates, who exalts virtue so greatly while making light of everything else and casting it away, from placing in virtue not merely a happy life but the happiest of lives?
quid enim? de bello Punico agitur? de quo ipso cum aliud M. Catoni, aliud L. Lentulo videretur, nulla inter eos concertatio umquam fuit. hi nimis iracunde agunt, praesertim cum ab is non sane animosa defendatur sententia, pro qua non in senatu, non in contione, non apud exercitum neque ad censores dicere audeant. sed cum istis alias, et eo quidem animo, nullum ut certamen instituam, verum dicentibus facile cedam; tantum admonebo, si maxime verum sit ad corpus omnia referre sapientem sive, ut honestius dicam, nihil facere nisi quod expediat, sive omnia referre ad utilitatem suam, quoniam haec plausibilia non sunt, ut in sinu gaudeant, gloriose loqui desinant. Cyrenaicorum restat sententia;
And unless this is so, the destruction of the virtues will follow. For on whomever distress falls, fear must fall on the same man as well — for fear is the anxious expectation of distress to come; and on whomever fear falls, on the same man fall dread, timidity, panic, cowardice; and so the same man will at times be conquered, and will not think that precept of Atreus applies to him: let them so prepare themselves in life that they know not how to be conquered. But this man will be conquered, as I have said, and not only conquered but enslaved as well; while we will have virtue always free, always unconquered; and unless these things hold, virtue is overthrown.
qui tum aegritudinem censent existere, si necopinato quid evenerit. est id quidem magnum, ut supra dixi; etiam Chrysippo ita videri scio, quod provisum ante non sit, id ferire vehementius; sed non sunt in hoc omnia. quamquam hostium repens adventus magis aliquanto conturbat quam expectatus, et maris subita tempestas quam ante provisa terret navigantes vehementius, et eius modi sunt pleraque. sed cum diligenter necopinatorum naturam consideres, nihil aliud reperias nisi omnia videri subita maiora, et quidem ob duas causas, primum quod, quanta sint quae accidunt, considerandi spatium non datur, deinde, cum videtur praecaveri potuisse, si provisum esset, quasi culpa contractum malum aegritudinem acriorem facit.
And if there is enough protection in virtue for living well, there is enough also for living happily; for there is certainly enough in virtue for us to live bravely; if bravely, then also with greatness of soul, and indeed so that we are never terrified by anything and are always unconquered. It follows that nothing is regretted, nothing lacking, nothing in the way; therefore all things flow on freely, perfectly, prosperously, and thus happily. But virtue has power enough for living bravely; therefore power enough also for living happily.
Quod ita esse dies declarat, quae procedens ita mitigat, ut isdem malis manentibus non modo leniatur aegritudo, sed in plerisque tollatur. Karthaginienses multi Romae servierunt, Macedones rege Perse capto; vidi etiam in Peloponneso, cum essem adulescens, quosdam Corinthios. hi poterant omnes eadem illa de Andromacha deplorare: haec omnia vidi, sed iam decantaverant fortasse. eo enim erant voltu, oratione, omni reliquo motu et statu, ut eos Argivos aut Sicyonios diceres, magisque me moverant Corinthi subito aspectae parietinae quam ipsos Corinthios, quorum animis diuturna cogitatio callum vetustatis obduxerat.
For just as folly, even when it has attained what it desired, never thinks it has gained enough, so wisdom is always content with what is at hand, and is never displeased with itself. Do you suppose the single consulship of Gaius Laelius was like another’s — and that too coming with a defeat (if, when a man wise and good, such as he was, is passed over in the voting, it is not rather the people that has met a defeat at the hands of a good consul than he at the hands of a good people)? But still — which would you rather, if the choice were yours: to be consul once like Laelius, or four times like Cinna?
legimus librum Clitomachi, quem ille eversa Karthagine misit consolandi causa ad captivos, cives suos; in eo est disputatio scripta Carneadis, quam se ait in commentarium rettulisse. cum ita positum esset, videri fore in aegritudine sapientem patria capta, quae Carneades contra dixerit, scripta sunt. tanta igitur calamitatis praesentis adhibetur a philosopho medicina, quanta inveteratae ne desideratur quidem, nec, si aliquot annis post idem ille liber captivis missus esset, volneribus mederetur, sed cicatricibus. sensim enim et pedetemptim progrediens extenuatur dolor, non quo ipsa res immutari soleat aut possit, sed id, quod ratio debuerat, usus docet, minora esse ea quae sint visa maiora. Quid ergo opus est, dicet aliquis, omnino ratione aut consolatione illa, qua solemus uti, cum levare dolorem maerentium volumus?
I have no doubt what you will answer; and so I see to whom I am committing the question. I would not put this same question to just anyone; for another might perhaps answer that he prefers not only four consulships to one, but a single day of Cinna’s to whole lifetimes of many famous men. Laelius, had he so much as touched a man with his finger, would have paid the penalty; but Cinna ordered the head of his colleague, the consul Gnaeus Octavius, to be struck off, and the heads of Publius Crassus and Lucius Caesar, men of the highest nobility, whose virtue had been proved at home and in war, and of Marcus Antonius, the most eloquent of all men I ever heard, and of Gaius Caesar, in whom there seemed to me to be a model of refinement, of wit, of charm, of grace. Was he happy, then, who killed these men? To me, on the contrary, he seems wretched not only because he did these things, but also because he so conducted himself that he was free to do them — though in truth no one is free to do wrong; but we slip through an error of language, for we say a thing is permitted
hoc enim fere tum habemus in promptu, nihil oportere inopinatum videri. aut qui tolerabilius feret incommodum, qui cognoverit necesse esse homini tale aliquid accidere? haec enim oratio de ipsa summa mali nihil detrahit, tantum modo adfert, nihil evenisse quod non opinandum fuisset. neque tamen genus id orationis in consolando non valet, sed id haud sciam an plurimum. * ergo ista necopinata non habent tantam vim, ut aegritudo ex is omnis oriatur; feriunt enim fortasse gravius, non id efficiunt, ut ea, quae accidant maiora videantur: quia recentia sunt, maiora videntur, non quia repentina.
when it is granted to a man to do it. Which, after all, was the happier — Gaius Marius, when he shared the glory of the Cimbric victory with his colleague Catulus, almost a second Laelius (for I count this man very like him), or when, victor in the civil war and enraged, he answered the kinsmen of Catulus who pleaded with him not once but again and again: "let him die"? In this the happier was the man who obeyed that wicked command than the one who issued so criminal an order. For as it is better to receive an injury than to do one, so it was better to go a little forward to meet death already drawing near — which is what Catulus did — than to do as Marius did: to crush, by the destruction of such a man, his own six consulships, and to defile the last span of his life.
* Duplex est igitur ratio veri reperiendi non in is solum, quae mala, sed in is etiam, quae bona videntur. nam aut ipsius rei natura qualis et quanta sit, quaerimus, ut de paupertate non numquam, cuius onus disputando levamus docentes, quam parva et quam pauca sint quae natura desideret, aut a disputandi subtilitate orationem ad exempla traducimus. hic Socrates commemoratur, hic Diogenes, hic Caecilianum illud: saepe est etiam sub palliolo sordido sapientia. cum enim paupertatis una eademque sit vis, quidnam dici potest, quam ob rem C. Fabricio tolerabilis ea fuerit, alii negent se ferre posse?
For thirty-eight years Dionysius was tyrant of the Syracusans, having seized the lordship at the age of twenty-five. With what splendor, with what resources he held the city, and the state oppressed in slavery! And yet of this man we have received from good authorities this account: that he was in his manner of living of the utmost temperance, in the conduct of affairs a keen and industrious man, but at the same time malicious by nature and unjust; from which it must seem to all who rightly look upon the truth that he was the most wretched of men. For the very things he had set his heart on, not even then, when he believed he could do all things, did he attain.
huic igitur alteri generi similis est ea ratio consolandi, quae docet humana esse quae acciderint. non enim id solum continet ea disputatio, ut cognitionem adferat generis humani, sed significat tolerabilia esse, quae et tulerint et ferant ceteri. de paupertate agitur: multi patientes pauperes commemorantur; de contemnendo honore: multi inhonorati proferuntur, et quidem propter id ipsum beatiores, eorumque, qui privatum otium negotiis publicis antetulerunt, nominatim vita laudatur, nec siletur illud potentissimi regis anapaestum, qui laudat senem et fortunatum esse dicit, quod inglorius sit atque ignobilis ad supremum diem perventurus;
For though he was born of good parents and of honorable station — though indeed this one point is handed down differently by different writers — and abounded both in the friendships of his peers and in the company of his kinsmen, and had besides, after the Greek fashion, certain young men bound to him by love, he trusted none of them, but committed the guarding of his person to men whom he had chosen as slaves out of the households of the rich, from whom he himself had stripped the name of slavery, and to certain immigrants and savage barbarians. Thus, through his unjust craving for lordship, he had in a manner shut himself up in prison. Indeed, that he might not entrust his throat to a barber, he taught his own daughters to cut hair. So in a sordid and servile craft these royal maidens, like little barber-girls, trimmed the beard and hair of their father. And yet from these very girls, when they were now grown, he took away the blade, and arranged that with glowing walnut shells they should singe off his beard and hair.
similiter commemorandis exemplis orbitates quoque liberum praedicantur, eorumque, qui gravius ferunt, luctus aliorum exemplis leniuntur. sic perpessio ceterorum facit, ut ea quae acciderint multo minora quam quanta sint existimata, videantur. ita fit, sensim cogitantibus ut, quantum sit ementita opinio, appareat. atque hoc idem et Telamo ille declarat: ego cum genui et Theseus: futuras mecum commentabar miserias et Anaxagoras: sciebam me genuisse mortalem. hi enim omnes diu cogitantes de rebus humanis intellegebant eas nequaquam pro opinione volgi esse extimescendas. et mihi quidem videtur idem fere accidere is qui ante meditantur, quod is quibus medetur dies, nisi quod ratio quaedam sanat illos, hos ipsa natura intellecto eo quod rem continet, illud malum, quod opinatum sit esse maxumum, nequaquam esse tantum, ut vitam beatam possit evertere.
And though he had two wives, Aristomache, his fellow citizen, and Doris of Locri, he would come to them by night only after spying out and searching through everything beforehand. And since he had set a broad ditch around the chamber where his bed stood, and had joined the crossing of that ditch by a little wooden bridge, he himself would swing this very bridge aside once he had shut the door of the chamber. And since he did not dare to stand on the common platforms, he was accustomed to address the assembly from a high tower.
hoc igitur efficitur, ut ex illo necopinato plaga maior sit, non, ut illi putant, ut, cum duobus pares casus evenerint, is modo aegritudine adficiatur, cui ille necopinato casus evenerit. Itaque dicuntur non nulli in maerore, cum de hac communi hominum condicione audivissent, ea lege esse nos natos, ut nemo in perpetuum esse posset expers mali, gravius etiam tulisse. quocirca Carneades, ut video nostrum scribere Antiochum, reprendere Chrysippum solebat laudantem Euripideum carmen illud: Morta/lis nemo est que/m non attinga/t dolor Morbu/sque; multis su/nt humandi li/beri, Rursu/m creandi, mo/rsque est finita o/mnibus. Quae ge/neri humano ango/rem nequicquam a/dferunt: Redde/nda terrae est te/rra, tum vita o/mnibus Mete/nda ut fruges. si/c iubet Nece/ssitas.
And when he wished to play ball — for he did this eagerly and often — and was laying aside his tunic, he is said to have handed his sword to a young man whom he loved. At this one of his companions said in jest: "To him, at any rate, you certainly entrust your life," and the young man smiled; whereupon he ordered both to be put to death, the one because he had pointed out the way of killing him, the other because he had approved the remark by his laughter. And by that deed he was so grieved that he bore nothing more heavily in all his life; for he had killed one he had loved intensely. So the desires of men without self-mastery are pulled apart in opposite directions: when you have indulged the one, the other must be resisted.
negabat genus hoc orationis quicquam omnino ad levandam aegritudinem pertinere. id enim ipsum dolendum esse dicebat, quod in tam crudelem necessitatem incidissemus; nam illam quidem orationem ex commemoratione alienorum malorum ad malivolos consolandos esse accommodatam. Mihi vero longe videtur secus. nam et necessitas ferendae condicionis humanae quasi cum deo pugnare prohibet admonetque esse hominem, quae cogitatio magno opere luctum levat, et enumeratio exemplorum, non ut animum malivolorum oblectet, adfertur, sed ut ille qui maeret ferundum sibi id censeat, quod videat multos moderate et tranquille tulisse.
And yet this very tyrant passed judgment on his own happiness. For when one of his flatterers, Damocles, was recounting in conversation his forces, his power, the majesty of his rule, the abundance of his wealth, the splendor of his royal palace, and declaring that no one had ever been more fortunate, "Would you like, then, Damocles," he said, "since this life delights you, to taste it for yourself and try out my fortune?" When the man said he would gladly, Dionysius ordered him laid on a golden couch spread with a covering of the most beautiful weave, embroidered with magnificent designs, and had several sideboards decked with chased gold and silver. Then he ordered chosen boys of surpassing beauty to take their stand at the table and to wait upon him attentively, watching his every nod.
Omnibus enim modis fulciendi sunt, qui ruunt nec cohaerere possunt propter magnitudinem aegritudinis. ex quo ipsam aegritudinem lu/phn Chrysippus quasi solutionem totius hominis appellatam putat. Quae tota poterit evelli explicata, ut principio dixi, causa aegritudinis; est enim nulla alia nisi opinio et iudicium magni praesentis atque urgentis mali. itaque et dolor corporis, cuius est morsus acerrumus, perferetur spe proposita boni, et acta aetas honeste ac splendide tantam adfert consolationem, ut eos qui ita vixerint aut non attingat aegritudo aut perleviter pungat animi dolor. Sed ad hanc opinionem magni mali cum illa etiam opinio accessit oportere, rectum esse, ad officium pertinere ferre illud aegre quod acciderit, tum denique efficitur illa gravis aegritudinis perturbatio.
There were perfumes and garlands; incense was burning; the tables were piled high with the choicest delicacies. Damocles thought himself a fortunate man. In the midst of all this display Dionysius ordered a gleaming sword, fastened by a single horsehair, to be let down from the ceiling, so that it hung over the neck of this happy man. And so Damocles neither looked at those beautiful attendants, nor at the silver wrought with such art, nor reached out his hand to the table; the garlands by now were slipping from his head; at last he begged the tyrant to let him go, since he no longer wished to be happy. Does Dionysius not seem to have shown clearly enough that there is no happiness for a man over whom some terror forever hangs? Nor was it any longer open to him to return to justice, to give his citizens back their freedom and their rights; for in his youth, at an age that takes no thought, he had so entangled himself in errors and committed such crimes that he could not be safe if he once began to be sane.
ex hac opinione sunt illa varia et detestabilia genera lugendi: paedores, muliebres lacerationes genarum, pectoris feminum capitis percussiones; hinc ille Agamemno Homericus et idem Accianus scindens dolore identidem intonsam comam; in quo facetum illud Bionis, perinde stultissimum regem in luctu capillum sibi evellere, quasi calvitio maeror levaretur.
How much he longed for friendships, whose faithlessness he dreaded, he showed in the case of those two Pythagoreans: when he had accepted one of them as surety for the other’s death, and the other, to free his surety, had presented himself at the appointed hour of death, "Would," he said, "that I might be enrolled as a third friend among you!" How wretched it was for him to do without the company of friends, the fellowship of daily life, intimate conversation altogether — and this for a man learned from boyhood and schooled in the liberal arts, devoted besides to music; a writer of tragedy, too — how good a one is nothing to the point, for in this field, somehow more than in others, every man finds his own work beautiful. I have never yet known a poet (and I had a friendship with Aquinius) who did not think himself the best; that is how it stands: your work delights you, mine delights me. — But to return to Dionysius: he was deprived of all human refinement and society; he lived among runaways, among criminals, among barbarians; he counted no one his friend who was either worthy of freedom or wished to be free at all. With this man’s life — than which I can conceive nothing more foul, more wretched, more detestable — I shall not now compare the life of Plato or Archytas, learned men and plainly wise:
Sed haec omnia faciunt opinantes ita fieri oportere. itaque et Aeschines in Demosthenem invehitur, quod is septimo die post filiae mortem hostias immolavisset. at quam rhetorice, quam copiose! quas sententias colligit, quae verba contorquet! ut licere quidvis rhetori intellegas. quae nemo probaret, nisi insitum illud in animis haberemus, omnis bonos interitu suorum quam gravissime maerere oportere. ex hoc evenit, ut in animi doloribus alii solitudines captent, ut ait Homerus de Bellerophonte: Qui miser in campis maerens errabat Aleis Ipse suum cor edens, hominum vestigia vitans; et Nioba fingitur lapidea propter aeternum, credo, in luctu silentium, Hecubam autem putant propter animi acerbitatem quandam et rabiem fingi in canem esse conversam. sunt autem alii, quos in luctu cum ipsa solitudine loqui saepe delectat, ut illa apud Ennium nutrix: Cupi/do cepit mi/seram nunc me pro/loqui Caelo a/tque terrae Me/deai mi/serias.
from the same city I shall summon up a lowly little man from his dust and drawing-board, one who lived many years later, Archimedes. When I was quaestor I tracked down his grave, unknown to the Syracusans — they denied it existed at all — hemmed in on every side and overgrown with brambles and thickets. For I held in mind certain little verses that I had been told were inscribed upon his monument, which declared that a sphere with a cylinder had been set on top of the tomb.
haec omnia recta vera debita putantes faciunt in dolore, maximeque declaratur hoc quasi officii iudicio fieri, quod, si qui forte, cum se in luctu esse vellent, aliquid fecerunt humanius aut si hilarius locuti sunt, revocant se rursus ad maestitiam peccatique se insimulant, quod dolere intermiserint. pueros vero matres et magistri castigare etiam solent, nec verbis solum, sed etiam verberibus, si quid in domestico luctu hilarius ab is factum est aut dictum, plorare cogunt. Quid? ipsa remissio luctus cum est consecuta intellectumque est nihil profici maerendo, nonne res declarat fuisse totum illud voluntarium?
Now as I was surveying everything with my eyes — for there is a great crowd of tombs at the Agrigentine Gate — I noticed a small column standing out a little from the thickets, on which there was the figure of a sphere and a cylinder. And at once I told the Syracusans — their leading men were with me — that I thought this was the very thing I was looking for. Men were sent in with sickles; they cleared and opened up the place.
Quid ille Terentianus ipse se poeniens, id est e(auto timwrou/menos? Decre/vi tantispe/r me minus iniu/riae, Chreme/s, meo gnato fa/cere, dum fia/m miser. hic decernit, ut miser sit. num quis igitur quicquam decernit invitus? malo quidem me quovis dignum deputem— malo se dignum deputat, nisi miser sit. vides ergo opinionis esse, non naturae malum. Quid, quos res ipsa lugere prohibet? ut apud Homerum cotidianae neces interitusque multorum sedationem maerendi adferunt, apud quem ita dicitur: Namque nimis multos atque omni luce cadentis Cernimus, ut nemo possit maerore vacare. Quo magis est aequum tumulis mandare peremptos Firmo animo et luctum lacrimis finire diurnis.
When the way to it had been laid open, we approached the base facing us. There appeared the epigram, with the latter halves of the little verses eaten away — about half of it remaining. So the most renowned city of Greece, once indeed the most learned as well, would have known nothing of the monument of its one most brilliant citizen, had it not learned of it from a man of Arpinum. But let the discourse return to where it strayed: who is there of all men, provided he has any dealings at all with the Muses — that is, with culture and learning — who would not rather be this mathematician than that tyrant? If we ask after the manner and conduct of their lives, the one man’s mind was nourished by the working out and investigation of reasonings, with the delight of his own ingenuity, which is the single sweetest food of the soul; the other’s, by slaughter and injustice, with fear by day and by night. Come now, set beside him Democritus, Pythagoras, Anaxagoras: what kingdoms, what riches will you prefer to their pursuits and delights?
Ergo in potestate est abicere dolorem, cum velis, tempori servientem. an est ullum tempus, quoniam quidem res in nostra potestate est, cui non ponendae curae et aegritudinis causa serviamus? constabat eos, qui concidentem volneribus Cn. Pompeium vidissent, cum in illo ipso acerbissimo miserrimoque spectaculo sibi timerent, quod se classe hostium circumfusos viderent, nihil aliud tum egisse, nisi ut remiges hortarentur et ut salutem adipiscerentur fuga; posteaquam Tyrum venissent, tum adflictari lamentarique coepisse. timor igitur ab his aegritudinem potuit repellere, ratio ab sapienti viro non poterit? Quid est autem quod plus valeat ad ponendum dolorem, quam cum est intellectum nil profici et frustra esse susceptum? si igitur deponi potest, etiam non suscipi potest; voluntate igitur et iudicio suscipi aegritudinem confitendum est.
For that part which is best in a man — there it is that the best thing you seek must necessarily reside. And what is there in a man better than a keen and sound mind? It is the good of this mind, then, that we must enjoy, if we wish to be happy; but the good of the mind is virtue; therefore the happy life must necessarily be contained in virtue. From this come all things that are beautiful, honorable, and noble — as I said above, but the same point seems worth stating a little more fully — and they are full of joys. And since it is clear that the happy life arises from perpetual and abundant joys, it follows that it arises from the honorable.
Idque indicatur eorum patientia, qui cum multa sint saepe perpessi, facilius ferunt quicquid accidit, obduruisseque iam sese contra fortunam arbitrantur, ut ille apud Euripidem: Si mi/hi nunc tristis pri/mum inluxisse/t dies Nec tam ae/rumnoso na/vigavisse/m salo, Esse/t dolendi cau/sa, ut iniecto e/culei Freno/ repente ta/ctu exagitantu/r novo; Sed ia/m subactus mi/seriis opto/rpui. defetigatio igitur miseriarum aegritudines cum faciat leniores, intellegi necesse est non rem ipsam causam atque fontem esse maeroris.
But that we may not merely touch in words upon what we wish to demonstrate, certain considerations must be set out, so to speak, to move us, which may turn us more readily toward recognition and understanding. Let us, then, take a certain outstanding man, accomplished in the finest arts, and let us fashion him for a moment in our mind and thought. First, he must be of exceptional natural gift; for virtue does not readily keep company with sluggish minds. Next, he must have an eager zeal for tracking down the truth. From this there will arise that threefold yield of the mind: one part set in the knowledge of things and the unfolding of nature, a second in the marking out of what is to be sought and what shunned and in the principle of living well, a third in judging what is consequent upon each thing and what contradicts it — and in this lies all the subtlety of reasoning together with the truth of judgment.
Philosophi summi nequedum tamen sapientiam consecuti nonne intellegunt in summo se malo esse? sunt enim insipientes, neque insipientia ullum maius malum est. neque tamen lugent. quid ita? quia huic generi malorum non adfingitur illa opinio, rectum esse et aequum et ad officium pertinere aegre ferre, quod sapiens non sis, quod idem adfingimus huic aegritudini, in qua luctus inest, quae omnium maxuma est.
With what joy, then, must the mind of the wise man be filled, dwelling and passing its nights among these concerns! When he has discerned the motions and revolutions of the whole universe, and seen the countless stars fixed in the sky moving in concert with its own motion, set in their appointed seats; and the seven others each holding their own courses, far apart from one another in their height or their lowness, whose wandering motions yet mark out the fixed and certain spans of their orbits — surely the sight of these things urged on those men of old and prompted them to seek further. From this was born the search into beginnings, and into seeds, as it were, from which all things rose, were generated, and took shape; and what is the origin of each kind, whether lifeless or living, whether mute or speaking; what its life, what its death, and what the succession and change from one thing into another; whence the earth, and by what weights it is balanced, in what hollows the seas are held, by what force of gravity all things are carried so as ever to seek the middle place of the world, which in a round body is also the lowest.
itaque Aristoteles veteres philosophos accusans, qui existumavissent philosophiam suis ingeniis esse perfectam, ait eos aut stultissimos aut gloriosissimos fuisse; sed se videre, quod paucis annis magna accessio facta esset, brevi tempore philosophiam plane absolutam fore. Theophrastus autem moriens accusasse naturam dicitur, quod cervis et cornicibus vitam diuturnam, quorum id nihil interesset, hominibus, quorum maxime interfuisset, tam exiguam vitam dedisset; quorum si aetas potuisset esse longinquior, futurum fuisse ut omnibus perfectis artibus omni doctrina hominum vita erudiretur. querebatur igitur se tum, cum illa videre coepisset, extingui. quid? ex ceteris philosophis nonne optumus et gravissumus quisque confitetur multa se ignorare et multa sibi etiam atque etiam esse discenda?
For the mind that handles these matters and reflects on them night and day, there arises that self-knowledge enjoined by the god at Delphi: that the mind should recognize itself and feel itself joined with the divine mind, from which it is filled with an insatiable joy. For the very contemplation of the power and nature of the gods kindles a zeal to imitate their eternity, and the mind does not think itself confined within the brevity of life, when it sees the causes of things linked one to another and bound by necessity — causes which, though they flow from everlasting time into everlasting, are yet governed by reason and mind.
neque tamen, cum se in media stultitia, qua nihil est peius, haerere intellegant, aegritudine premuntur; nulla enim admiscetur opinio officiosi doloris. Quid, qui non putant lugendum viris? qualis fuit Q. Maxumus efferens filium consularem, qualis L. Paulus duobus paucis diebus amissis filiis, qualis M. Cato praetore designato mortuo filio, quales reliqui, quos in Consolatione conlegimus.
Gazing upon these things and looking up at them — or rather, surveying every part and region of them — with what tranquility of mind, in turn, does he consider human affairs and things nearer at hand! From this comes that knowledge of virtue; the kinds and parts of the virtues come into flower; it is discovered what nature looks to as the ultimate end among goods and the last among evils, to what the duties are to be referred, what plan of living out one’s life is to be chosen. And from the investigation of these and like matters there comes about, above all else, that very thing which is the business of this discussion: that virtue is self-sufficient for living happily.
quid hos aliud placavit nisi quod luctum et maerorem esse non putabant viri? ergo id, quod alii rectum opinantes aegritudini se solent dedere, id hi turpe putantes aegritudinem reppulerunt. ex quo intellegitur non in natura, sed in opinione esse aegritudinem. Contra dicuntur haec: quis tam demens, ut sua voluntate maereat? natura adfert dolorem, cui quidem Crantor, inquiunt, vester cedendum putat; premit enim atque instat, nec resisti potest. itaque Oileus ille apud Sophoclem, qui Telamonem antea de Aiacis morte consolatus esset, is cum audivisset de suo, fractus est. de cuius commutata mente sic dicitur: Nec ve/ro tanta prae/ditus sapie/ntia Quisqua/m est, qui aliorum aeru/mnam dictis a/dlevans Non i/dem, cum fortu/na mutata i/mpetum Conve/rtat, clade su/bita frangatu/r sua, Ut i/lla ad alios di/cta et praecepta e/xcidant. haec cum disputant, hoc student efficere, naturae obsisti nullo modo posse; idem tamen fatentur graviores aegritudines suscipi, quam natura cogat. quae est igitur amentia—? ut nos quoque idem ab illis requiramus.
There follows the third part, which runs and pours through every part of wisdom — which defines a thing, distinguishes its kinds, joins what follows, draws conclusions to their completion, and judges true from false: the method and science of reasoning. From it arises both the highest usefulness for weighing matters and, above all, a delight that is liberal and worthy of wisdom. But these are the works of leisure. Let this same wise man pass over to the defense of the commonwealth. What could be more excellent than he, when in his prudence he discerns what is to the advantage of the citizens, in his justice diverts nothing of it to his own house, and makes use of all his other so many and so various virtues? Add the harvest of friendships, in which the learned find both counsel for the whole of life, harmonious and almost of one breath, and the highest pleasure in their daily intercourse and shared life. What, in the end, does this life want, to be happier? Fortune herself must yield to a life crammed with so many and so great joys. But if to rejoice in such goods of the mind — that is, in the virtues — is to be happy, and if all the wise enjoy these joys to the full, then it must be admitted that they are all happy. — Even on the rack and under torture?
Sed plures sunt causae suscipiendi doloris: primum illa opinio mali, quo viso atque persuaso aegritudo insequitur necessario. deinde etiam gratum mortuis se facere, si graviter eos lugeant, arbitrantur. accedit superstitio muliebris quaedam; existumant enim diis inmortalibus se facilius satis facturos, si eorum plaga perculsi adflictos se et stratos esse fateantur. sed haec inter se quam repugnent, plerique non vident. laudant enim eos, qui aequo animo moriantur; qui alterius mortem aequo animo ferant, eos putant vituperandos. quasi fieri ullo modo possit, quod in amatorio sermone dici solet, ut quisquam plus alterum diligat quam se.
Or did you suppose I was speaking of him as lying on violets and roses? Or shall it be permitted to Epicurus — who merely put on the mask of a philosopher and inscribed the name upon himself — to say (a thing that, as the matter stands, he says to my applause) that there is no time for the wise man, even if he be burned, racked, cut, when he cannot cry out, "How utterly I scorn it!" — and this above all when he defines every evil by pain and every good by pleasure, mocks these honorable and base things of ours, and says that we are taken up with words and pour out empty sounds, that nothing concerns us except what is felt in the body as smooth or rough? To this man, then, differing little, as I said, from the judgment of beasts, it shall be permitted to forget himself, and at one moment to despise fortune — though his every good and evil lies in fortune’s power — and at the next to call himself happy in the height of torment and torture, though he has laid it down that pain is not only the highest evil but the only one?
praeclarum illud est et, si quaeris, rectum quoque et verum, ut eos, qui nobis carissimi esse debeant, aeque ac nosmet ipsos amemus; ut vero plus, fieri nullo pacto potest. ne optandum quidem est in amicitia, ut me ille plus quam se, ego illum plus quam me; perturbatio vitae, si ita sit, atque officiorum omnium consequatur. sed de hoc alias; nunc illud satis est, non attribuere ad amissionem amicorum miseriam nostram, ne illos plus quam ipsi velint, si sentiant, plus certe quam nosmet ipsos diligamus. Nam quod aiunt plerosque consolationibus nihil levari adiunguntque consolatores ipsos confiteri se miseros, cum ad eos impetum suum fortuna converterit, utrumque dissolvitur. sunt enim ista non naturae vitia, sed culpae. stultitiam autem accusare quamvis copiose licet. nam et qui non levantur, ipsi se ad miseriam invitant, et qui suos casus aliter ferunt atque ut auctores aliis ipsi fuerunt, non sunt vitiosiores quam fere plerique, qui avari avaros, gloriae cupidos gloriosi reprehendunt. est enim proprium stultitiae aliorum vitia cernere, oblivisci suorum.
Nor indeed has he furnished himself with those remedies for enduring pain — firmness of mind, shame at what is base, the practice and habit of suffering, the precepts of fortitude, a manly hardness — but he says he finds rest in a single thing, the recollection of past pleasures; as if a man scorched by heat, when he cannot easily bear the violence of it, should wish to recall that once, in our own country of Arpinum, he was plunged about by cool rivers. For I do not see how past pleasures can soothe
Sed nimirum hoc maxume est exprimendum, cum constet aegritudinem vetustate tolli, hanc vim non esse in die positam, sed in cogitatione diuturna. nam si et eadem res est et idem est homo, qui potest quicquam de dolore mutari, si neque de eo, propter quod dolet, quicquam est mutatum neque de eo, qui dolet? cogitatio igitur diuturna nihil esse in re mali dolori medetur, non ipsa diuturnitas. Hic mihi adferunt mediocritates. quae si naturales sunt, quid opus est consolatione? natura enim ipsa terminabit modum; sin opinabiles, opinio tota tollatur. Satis dictum esse arbitror aegritudinem esse opinionem mali praesentis, in qua opinione illud insit, ut aegritudinem suscipere oporteat.
present evils. — But since the man who says this declares the wise man always happy — a thing he has no right to say, if he wished to be consistent with himself — what then must they do who hold that nothing is to be sought, nothing to be counted among goods, that lacks honor? On my authority, then, let even the Peripatetics and the old Academics at last leave off their stammering and dare to say openly and in a clear voice that the happy life will go down into the bull of Phalaris.
additur ad hanc definitionem a Zenone recte, ut illa opinio praesentis mali sit recens. hoc autem verbum sic interpretantur, ut non tantum illud recens esse velint, quod paulo ante acciderit, sed quam diu in illo opinato malo vis quaedam insit, ut vigeat et habeat quandam viriditatem, tam diu appelletur recens. ut Artemisia illa, Mausoli Cariae regis uxor, quae nobile illud Halicarnasi fecit sepulcrum, quam diu vixit, vixit in luctu eodemque etiam confecta contabuit. huic erat illa opinio cotidie recens; quae tum denique non appellatur recens, cum vetustate exaruit. Haec igitur officia sunt consolantium, tollere aegritudinem funditus aut sedare aut detrahere quam plurumum aut supprimere nec pati manare longius aut ad alia traducere.
For let there be three kinds of goods — to withdraw at last from the Stoic snares, which I see I have employed more than is my habit — let there be those kinds of goods, then, by all means, provided the goods of the body and the external ones lie low upon the ground and are called goods only because they are to be taken up, while those divine goods of the soul spread themselves far and wide and reach the very sky; so that the man who has attained them — why should I call him merely happy and not the happiest of all? But will the wise man dread pain? For it is pain above all that fights against this verdict. Against the death of ourselves and of those dear to us, against distress and the other disturbances of the soul, we seem armed and ready enough by the discussions of the earlier days; pain seems the fiercest adversary of virtue. It brandishes its blazing torches; it threatens to wear down courage, greatness of soul, and endurance.
sunt qui unum officium consolantis putent malum illud omnino non esse, ut Cleanthi placet; sunt qui non magnum malum, ut Peripatetici; sunt qui abducant a malis ad bona, ut Epicurus; sunt qui satis putent ostendere nihil inopinati accidisse, ut Cyrenaici nihil mali. Chrysippus autem caput esse censet in consolando detrahere illam opinionem maerentis, qua se officio fungi putet iusto atque debito. sunt etiam qui haec omnia genera consolandi colligant —alius enim alio modo movetur—, ut fere nos in Consolatione omnia in consolationem unam coniecimus; erat enim in tumore animus, et omnis in eo temptabatur curatio. sed sumendum tempus est non minus in animorum morbis quam in corporum; ut Prometheus ille Aeschyli, cui cum dictum esset: Atqui/, Prometheu, te ho/c tenere exi/stimo, Mede/ri posse ra/tionem iracu/ndiae, respondit: Siquide/m qui tempesti/vam medicinam a/dmovens Non a/dgravescens vo/lnus inlida/t manu.
Will virtue, then, give way to this? Will the happy life of the wise and steadfast man yield to it? How shameful, good gods! Spartan boys do not so much as groan when they are torn by the pain of the lash. We ourselves saw at Lacedaemon bands of young men contending with unbelievable fierceness — with fists, heels, nails, even teeth at the last — sooner letting themselves be beaten senseless than confess themselves beaten. What barbarian land is wilder or rougher than India? Yet even among that people, those first who are held to be wise pass their lives naked, and endure the snows of the Caucasus and the violence of winter without pain; and when they have laid themselves against the flame, they are scorched without a groan.
Erit igitur in consolationibus prima medicina docere aut nullum malum esse aut admodum parvum, altera et de communi condicione vitae et proprie, si quid sit de ipsius qui maereat disputandum, tertia summam esse stultitiam frustra confici maerore, cum intellegas nihil posse profici. nam Cleanthes quidem sapientem consolatur, qui consolatione non eget. nihil enim esse malum, quod turpe non sit, si lugenti persuaseris, non tu illi luctum, sed stultitiam detraxeris; alienum autem tempus docendi. et tamen non satis mihi videtur vidisse hoc Cleanthes, suscipi aliquando aegritudinem posse ex eo ipso, quod esse summum malum Cleanthes ipse fateatur. quid enim dicemus, cum Socrates Alcibiadi persuasisset, ut accepimus, eum nihil hominis esse nec quicquam inter Alcibiadem summo loco natum et quemvis baiolum interesse, cum se Alcibiades adflictaret lacrimansque Socrati supplex esset, ut sibi virtutem traderet turpitudinemque depelleret, —quid dicemus, Cleanthe? tum in illa re, quae aegritudine Alcibiadem adficiebat, mali nihil fuisse?
The women of India, moreover, when one of them has lost her husband, come into a contest and a trial: which of them he loved most — for several wives are usually married to a single man. She who is the victor, attended joyfully by her own people, is laid upon the pyre together with her husband; the one defeated departs in grief. Custom would never overcome nature, for nature is forever unconquered; but we have infected our souls with shadows, with luxuries, with idleness, sloth, and indolence; we have softened them, lulled by opinions and by bad habit. Who does not know the custom of the Egyptians? Their minds, steeped in the errors of perversity, would undergo any torture sooner than do violence to an ibis, an asp, a cat, a dog, or a crocodile; and even if they have done one of these creatures some harm unawares, they refuse no punishment for it.
quid? illa Lyconis qualia sunt? qui aegritudinem extenuans parvis ait eam rebus moveri, fortunae et corporis incommodis, non animi malis. quid ergo? illud, quod Alcibiades dolebat, non ex animi malis vitiisque constabat? ad Epicuri consolationem satis est ante dictum.
I speak of men. What of beasts? Do they not endure cold, hunger, their roving courses and wanderings over mountains and through forests? Do they not fight for their young so fiercely that they take wounds upon themselves, flinching from no assault, no blow? I pass over what men endure and suffer who are greedy for office for ambition’s sake, eager for praise for the sake of glory, kindled by love for the sake of desire. Life is full of such examples.
ne illa quidem firmissima consolatio est, quamquam et usitata est et saepe prodest: non tibi hoc soli. prodest haec quidem, ut dixi, sed nec semper nec omnibus; sunt enim qui respuant; sed refert, quo modo adhibeatur. ut enim tulerit quisque eorum qui sapienter tulerunt, non quo quisque incommodo adfectus sit, praedicandum est. Chrysippi ad veritatem firmissima est, ad tempus aegritudinis difficilis. magnum opus est probare maerenti illum suo iudicio et, quod se ita putet oportere facere, maerere. Nimirum igitur, ut in causis non semper utimur eodem statu—sic enim appellamus controversiarum genera—, sed ad tempus, ad controversiae naturam, ad personam accommodamus, sic in aegritudine lenienda, quam quisque curationem recipere possit, videndum est.
But let our discourse keep its measure and return to the point from which it turned aside. The happy life, I say, will give itself over to the torments, and having followed justice, temperance, and above all courage, greatness of soul, and endurance, when it has seen the face of the torturer it will halt — and with all the virtues setting out toward the torment without any terror of soul, it will stand its ground outside the doors, as I said before, and on the threshold of the prison. For what could be more loathsome than the happy life, what more disfigured, left alone, cut off from its fairest company? Yet that can in no way come to pass; for the virtues cannot hold together without the happy life, nor the happy life without the virtues.
Sed nescio quo pacto ab eo, quod erat a te propositum, aberravit oratio. tu enim de sapiente quaesieras, cui aut malum videri nullum potest, quod vacet turpitudine, aut ita parvum malum, ut id obruatur sapientia vixque appareat, qui nihil opinione adfingat adsumatque ad aegritudinem nec id putet esse rectum, se quam maxume excruciari luctuque confici, quo pravius nihil esse possit. edocuit tamen ratio, ut mihi quidem videtur, cum hoc ipsum proprie non quaereretur hoc tempore, num quod esset malum nisi quod idem dici turpe posset, tamen ut videremus, quicquid esset in aegritudine mali, id non naturale esse, sed voluntario iudicio et opinionis errore contractum.
And so they will not allow it to turn its back, but will carry it off with them to whatever pain and torment they themselves are led. For it is the wise man’s own mark to do nothing he could ever repent of, nothing against his will, but all things splendidly, steadfastly, with weight and with honor; to expect nothing as though it were certain to come, to wonder at nothing when it has come, as though it had befallen unforeseen and strange; to refer all things to his own judgment, to stand by his own decisions. What could be happier than this, I for one cannot conceive.
Tractatum est autem a nobis id genus aegritudinis, quod unum est omnium maxumum, ut eo sublato reliquorum remedia ne magnopere quaerenda arbitraremur. sunt enim certa, quae de paupertate certa, quae de vita inhonorata et ingloria dici soleant; separatim certae scholae sunt de exilio, de interitu patriae, de servitute, de debilitate, de caecitate, de omni casu, in quo nomen poni solet calamitatis. haec Graeci in singulas scholas et in singulos libros dispertiunt; opus enim quaerunt (quamquam plenae disputationes delectationis sunt);
The Stoics’ conclusion, indeed, is easy. Since they have judged that the end of goods is to be in harmony with nature and to live in accord with it, and since this lies within the wise man’s power not by duty alone but by capacity, it must follow that the man in whose power the highest good lies has the happy life in his power as well. Thus the wise man’s life is always happy. — There you have what I think can be said most stoutly about the happy life, and, as matters now stand, unless you bring something better, most truly as well. — For my part I can bring nothing better; but I would gladly win this from you, if it is no trouble: since no bonds tie you to any one fixed school, and you draw from all of them whatever most moves you with the look of truth — what you seemed a little while ago to be urging upon the Peripatetics and the Old Academy, that without any holding back they should dare to say freely that the wise are always happiest, that is what I should like to hear, how you think it consistent for them to say it. For you said much against that verdict, and much that was deduced by the reasoning of the Stoics.
et tamen, ut medici toto corpore curando minimae etiam parti, si condoluit, medentur, sic philosophia cum universam aegritudinem sustulit, sustulit etiam, si quis error alicunde extitit, si paupertas momordit, si ignominia pupugit, si quid tenebrarum obfudit exilium, aut eorum quae modo dixi si quid extitit. etsi singularum rerum sunt propriae consolationes, de quibus audies tu quidem, cum voles. sed ad eundem fontem revertendum est, aegritudinem omnem procul abesse a sapiente, quod inanis sit, quod frustra suscipiatur, quod non natura exoriatur, sed iudicio, sed opinione, sed quadam invitatione ad dolendum, cum id decreverimus ita fieri oportere.
Let us use, then, the liberty that we alone in philosophy are allowed to use — we whose discourse pronounces no judgment of its own, but ranges over every side, so that it may be judged by others through itself, with no man’s authority attached. And since you seem to wish this — that whatever the verdict of the disagreeing philosophers may be about the ends, virtue should nevertheless have safeguard enough for the happy life — which is what we are told Carneades used to argue; but he argued it against the Stoics, whom he was always most eager to refute, and against whose doctrine his genius had taken fire. I, however, will conduct it in peace — for if the Stoics have set down the end of goods rightly, the matter is settled: the wise man must always be happy —
Hoc detracto, quod totum est voluntarium, aegritudo erit sublata illa maerens, morsus tamen et contractiuncula quaedam animi relinquetur. hanc dicant sane naturalem, dum aegritudinis nomen absit grave taetrum funestum, quod cum sapientia esse atque, ut ita dicam, habitare nullo modo possit. At quae stirpes sunt aegritudinis, quam multae, quam amarae! quae ipso trunco everso omnes eligendae sunt et, si necesse erit, singulis disputationibus. superest enim nobis hoc, cuicuimodi est, otium. sed ratio una omnium est aegritudinum, plura nomina. nam et invidere aegritudinis est et aemulari et obtrectare et misereri et angi, lugere, maerere, aerumna adfici, lamentari, sollicitari, dolere, in molestia esse, adflictari, desperare.
but let us examine each of the remaining verdicts one by one, if it can be done, to see whether this splendid decree, so to speak, of the happy life can be made to agree with the verdicts and doctrines of all. Now these, as I suppose, are the verdicts about the ends that have been held and defended. First, four simple ones: nothing is good but the honorable, as the Stoics hold; nothing is good but pleasure, as Epicurus holds; nothing is good but freedom from pain, as Hieronymus holds; nothing is good but to enjoy the first goods of nature, either all of them or the greatest, as Carneades argued against the Stoics.
Haec omnia definiunt Stoici, eaque verba quae dixi singularum rerum sunt, non, ut videntur, easdem res significant, sed aliquid differunt; quod alio loco fortasse tractabimus. haec sunt illae fibrae stirpium, quas initio dixi, persequendae et omnes eligendae, ne umquam ulla possit existere. magnum opus et difficile, quis negat? quid autem praeclarum non idem arduum? sed tamen id se effecturam philosophia profitetur, nos modo curationem eius recipiamus. Verum haec quidem hactenus, cetera, quotienscumque voletis, et hoc loco et aliis parata vobis erunt.
This fifth day, Brutus, will bring the Tusculan discussions to their close — the day on which we argued the very question that you, of all of them, most approve. For I have come to see, both from the book you wrote to me with the greatest care and from many conversations of yours, how thoroughly the view pleases you that virtue is sufficient of itself for the happy life. And though this is hard to prove, on account of fortune’s torments, so various and so many, it is nonetheless the kind of thing at which we must labor, that it may be proved the more readily. For among all the matters that philosophy handles, there is nothing that is spoken of with greater weight or grandeur.
Cum multis locis nostrorum hominum ingenia virtutesque, Brute, soleo mirari, tum maxime in is studiis, quae sero admodum expetita in hanc civitatem e Graecia transtulerunt. nam cum a primo urbis ortu regiis institutis, partim etiam legibus auspicia, caerimoniae, comitia, provocationes, patrum consilium, equitum peditumque discriptio, tota res militaris divinitus esset constituta, tum progressio admirabilis incredibilisque cursus ad omnem excellentiam factus est dominatu regio re p. liberata. nec vero hic locus est, ut de moribus institutisque maiorum et disciplina ac temperatione civitatis loquamur; aliis haec locis satis accurate a nobis dicta sunt maximeque in is sex libris, quos de re publica scripsimus.
For since this was the cause that drove the first men to apply themselves to the study of philosophy — that, setting all else aside, they devoted themselves wholly to the search for the best condition of life — surely it was in the hope of living happily that they laid out such care and effort upon that study. And if virtue was discovered and brought to perfection by them, and if there is in virtue protection enough for living happily, who is there who would not judge that the work of philosophizing was nobly both undertaken by them and taken up by us? But if virtue, subject to changes various and uncertain, is the handmaid of fortune, and has not strength enough to keep itself secure, then I fear that we ought to lean toward the hope of living happily not so much by confidence in virtue as by the offering of prayers.
hoc autem loco consideranti mihi studia doctrinae multa sane occurrunt, cur ea quoque arcessita aliunde neque solum expetita, sed etiam conservata et culta videantur. erat enim illis paene in conspectu praestanti sapientia et nobilitate Pythagoras, qui fuit in Italia temporibus isdem quibus L. Brutus patriam liberavit, praeclarus auctor nobilitatis tuae. Pythagorae autem doctrina cum longe lateque flueret, permanavisse mihi videtur in hanc civitatem, idque cum coniectura probabile est, tum quibusdam etiam vestigiis indicatur. quis enim est qui putet, cum floreret in Italia Graecia potentissumis et maximis urbibus, ea quae magna dicta est, in isque primum ipsius Pythagorae, deinde postea Pythagoreorum tantum nomen esset, nostrorum hominum ad eorum doctissimas voces aures clausas fuisse?
For my own part, when I consider with myself those reverses by which fortune has so violently exercised me, I begin at times to lose faith in this view, and to dread the weakness and frailty of the human race. For I fear that nature, having given us bodies that are feeble and joined to them diseases beyond cure and pains beyond endurance, may have given us minds as well — minds at once attuned to the pains of the body and, on their own account, entangled in their own anguish and distress.
quin etiam arbitror propter Pythagoreorum admirationem Numam quoque regem Pythagoreum a posterioribus existimatum. nam cum Pythagorae disciplinam et instituta cognoscerent regisque eius aequitatem et sapientiam a maioribus suis accepissent, aetates autem et tempora ignorarent propter vetustatem, eum, qui sapientia excelleret, Pythagorae auditorem crediderunt fuisse. et de coniectura quidem hactenus. vestigia autem Pythagoreorum quamquam multa colligi possunt, paucis tamen utemur, quoniam non id agitur hoc tempore. nam cum carminibus soliti illi esse dicantur et praecepta quaedam occultius tradere et mentes suas a cogitationum intentione cantu fidibusque ad tranquillitatem traducere, gravissumus auctor in Originibus dixit Cato morem apud maiores hunc epularum fuisse, ut deinceps, qui accubarent, canerent ad tibiam clarorum virorum laudes atque virtutes; ex quo perspicuum est et cantus tum fuisse discriptos vocum sonis et carmina.
But here I rebuke myself, because from the softness of others, and perhaps of my own, I form my estimate of virtue’s strength, rather than from virtue itself. For virtue — if indeed there is any such thing as virtue, a doubt your uncle, Brutus, swept away — holds beneath itself all that can befall a man; looking down upon these, it scorns the accidents of mortal life, and, free of all fault, it judges that nothing concerns it but itself. We, on the other hand, magnify by fear every adversity as it comes, and by grief every present trouble, and choose to condemn the nature of things rather than our own error.
quamquam id quidem etiam duodecim tabulae declarant, condi iam tum solitum esse carmen; quod ne liceret fieri ad alterius iniuriam, lege sanxerunt. nec vero illud non eruditorum temporum argumentum est, quod et deorum pulvinaribus et epulis magistratuum fides praecinunt, quod proprium eius fuit, de qua loquor, disciplinae. mihi quidem etiam Appii Caeci carmen, quod valde Panaetius laudat epistola quadam, quae est ad Q. Tuberonem, Pythagoreum videtur. multa etiam sunt in nostris institutis ducta ab illis; quae praetereo, ne ea, quae repperisse ipsi putamur, aliunde didicisse videamur.
But the correction of this fault, and of the rest of our vices and sins, must all be sought from philosophy. Into her bosom, from the earliest season of our life, our own will and zeal drove us; and now, in these gravest reverses, tossed by a great tempest, we have fled for refuge to the same harbor from which we set out. O philosophy, guide of life! O searcher-out of virtue and expeller of vices! What, not only could we, but what could the whole life of man have been without you? You gave birth to cities; you called together into the fellowship of life men once scattered; you joined them to one another first by dwellings, then by marriages, then by the sharing of letters and of speech; you were the inventor of laws, you the teacher of morals and of order. To you we flee; from you we ask aid; to you we entrust ourselves — as before in great part, so now wholly and entirely. And one day well spent, by your precepts, is to be preferred to an eternity of wrongdoing.
Sed ut ad propositum redeat oratio, quam brevi tempore quot et quanti poëtae, qui autem oratores extiterunt! facile ut appareat nostros omnia consequi potuisse, simul ut velle coepissent. Sed de ceteris studiis alio loco et dicemus, si usus fuerit, et saepe diximus. sapientiae studium vetus id quidem in nostris, sed tamen ante Laelii aetatem et Scipionis non reperio quos appellare possim nominatim. quibus adulescentibus Stoicum Diogenen et Academicum Carneadem video ad senatum ab Atheniensibus missos esse legatos, qui cum rei publicae nullam umquam partem attigissent essetque eorum alter Cyrenaeus alter Babylonius, numquam profecto scholis essent excitati neque ad illud munus electi, nisi in quibusdam principibus temporibus illis fuissent studia doctrinae. qui cum cetera litteris mandarent, alii ius civile, alii orationes suas, alii monumenta maiorum, hanc amplissimam omnium artium, bene vivendi disciplinam, vita magis quam litteris persecuti sunt.
Whose resources, then, should we use rather than yours — you who have lavished tranquillity of life upon us and taken away the terror of death? And yet philosophy, so far from being praised in proportion to what she has deserved of the life of man, is by most men neglected and by many even reviled. Does anyone dare to revile the parent of life, and to stain himself with this parricide, and to be so impiously ungrateful as to accuse her whom he ought to revere, even if he could not grasp her? But this error, I think, and this darkness spread over the minds of the unlearned, comes of their being unable to look so far back, and of their not believing that the men by whom the life of man was first set in order were philosophers.
itaque illius verae elegantisque philosophiae, quae ducta a Socrate in Peripateticis adhuc permansit et idem alio modo dicentibus Stoicis, cum Academici eorum controversias disceptarent, nulla fere sunt aut pauca admodum Latina monumenta sive propter magnitudinem rerum occupationemque hominum, sive etiam quod imperitis ea probari posse non arbitrabantur, cum interim illis silentibus C. Amafinius extitit dicens, cuius libris editis commota multitudo contulit se ad eam potissimum disciplinam, sive quod erat cognitu perfacilis, sive quod invitabantur inlecebris blandis voluptatis, sive etiam, quia nihil erat prolatum melius, illud quod erat tenebant.
Though we see the thing itself to be most ancient, we confess all the same that the name is recent. For wisdom itself — who can deny that it is ancient, not only in fact but even in name? It is the name that won, among the ancients, this most beautiful title by its knowledge of things divine and human, and of the beginnings and causes of each thing. And so those seven who by the Greeks were called sophoi, and by our people were both held and named the wise; and many ages before them Lycurgus, in whose time Homer too is recorded to have lived, before this city was founded; and as far back as the age of heroes, Ulysses and Nestor — these, we are told, both were and were held to be wise.
post Amafinium autem multi eiusdem aemuli rationis multa cum scripsissent, Italiam totam occupaverunt, quodque maxumum argumentum est non dici illa subtiliter, quod et tam facile ediscantur et ab indoctis probentur, id illi firmamentum esse disciplinae putant. Sed defendat, quod quisque sentit; sunt enim iudicia libera: nos institutum tenebimus nullisque unius disciplinae legibus adstricti, quibus in philosophia necessario pareamus, quid sit in quaque re maxime probabile, semper requiremus. quod cum saepe alias, tum nuper in Tusculano studiose egimus. itaque expositis tridui disputationibus quartus dies hoc libro concluditur. ut enim in inferiorem ambulationem descendimus, quod feceramus idem superioribus diebus, acta res est sic: Dicat, si quis volt, qua de re disputari velit.
Nor would Atlas have been said to bear up the sky, nor Prometheus to be fastened to the Caucasus, nor Cepheus set among the stars with his wife, his son-in-law, and his daughter, had not their divine knowledge of the heavens carried over their names into the error of fable. From these, in succession, all who set their zeal upon the contemplation of things were both held and named the wise; and that name of theirs ran on down to the age of Pythagoras. He, as Heraclides of Pontus writes — a pupil of Plato, and a man of the first rank in learning — is said to have come to Phlius, and there to have discoursed on certain matters with Leon, the chief man of the Phliasians, learnedly and at length. And when Leon, marvelling at his genius and eloquence, asked him in what art above all he placed his confidence, Pythagoras replied that he knew no art at all, but was a philosopher. Leon, struck by the novelty of the word, asked who these philosophers might be, and what was the difference between them and the rest of mankind;
Non mihi videtur omni animi perturbatione posse sapiens vacare. Aegritudine quidem hesterna disputatione videbatur, nisi forte temporis causa nobis adsentiebare. Minime vero; nam mihi egregie probata est oratio tua. Non igitur existumas cadere in sapientem aegritudinem? Prorsus non arbitror. Atqui, si ista perturbare animum sapientis non potest, nulla poterit. quid enim? metusne conturbet? at earum rerum est absentium metus, quarum praesentium est aegritudo; sublata igitur aegritudine sublatus est metus. restant duae perturbationes, laetitia gestiens et libido; quae si non cadent in sapientem, semper mens erit tranquilla sapientis.
and Pythagoras answered that the life of man seemed to him like that festival which was held with the most splendid display of games and the gathering of all Greece. For there, just as some men sought glory and the renown of a crown by training their bodies, while others were drawn by the profit and gain of buying and selling, but there was a certain kind of men — and this the most freeborn of all — who sought neither applause nor profit, but came for the sake of seeing, and looked on closely at what was being done, and in what manner: so too we, as if we had set out from some city to a kind of crowded festival, had come into this life from another life and nature; and some of us are slaves to glory, some to money, while there are a rare few who, holding all else as nothing, study closely the nature of things. These men, Pythagoras said, he called students of wisdom — that is, philosophers; and just as there it was most worthy of a free man to look on, acquiring nothing for himself, so in life the contemplation and knowledge of things far surpasses all other pursuits.
Sic prorsus intellego. Utrum igitur mavis? statimne nos vela facere an quasi e portu egredientis paululum remigare? Quidnam est istuc? non enim intellego. Quia Chrysippus et Stoici cum de animi perturbationibus disputant, magnam partem in his partiendis et definiendis occupati sunt, illa eorum perexigua oratio est, qua medeantur animis nec eos turbulentos esse patiantur, Peripatetici autem ad placandos animos multa adferunt, spinas partiendi et definiendi praetermittunt. quaerebam igitur, utrum panderem vela orationis statim an eam ante paululum dialecticorum remis propellerem. Isto modo vero; erit enim hoc totum, quod quaero, ex utroque perfectius. Est id quidem rectius;
Nor indeed was Pythagoras only the inventor of the name, but an enlarger as well of the things themselves. After this conversation at Phlius he came into Italy, and adorned that Greece which has been called Great, both in private and in public, with the most excellent institutions and arts. Of his teaching there may, perhaps, be another time for speaking. But from the ancient philosophy down to Socrates — who had listened to Archelaus, the pupil of Anaxagoras — it was numbers and motions that were handled, and the question whence all things arise and into what they fall back; and those men inquired zealously into the magnitudes of the stars, their intervals and courses, and all things of the heavens. Socrates, however, was the first to call philosophy down from the sky, to set it in cities, to bring it even into homes, and to compel it to inquire about life and morals, about things good and evil.
sed post requires, si quid fuerit obscurius. Faciam equidem; tu tamen, ut soles, dices ista ipsa obscura planius quam dicuntur a Graecis. Enitar equidem, sed intento opus est animo, ne omnia dilabantur, si unum aliquid effugerit. Quoniam, quae Graeci pa/qh vocant, nobis perturbationes appellari magis placet quam morbos, in his explicandis veterem illam equidem Pythagorae primum, dein Platonis discriptionem sequar, qui animum in duas partes dividunt: alteram rationis participem faciunt, alteram expertem; in participe rationis ponunt tranquillitatem, id est placidam quietamque constantiam, in illa altera motus turbidos cum irae tum cupiditatis, contrarios inimicosque rationi.
His many-sided manner of arguing, the variety of his subjects, and the greatness of his genius, consecrated in the memory and writings of Plato, brought into being several kinds of dissenting philosophers; and of these we ourselves have followed above all the one which we judged Socrates to have used: that we should conceal our own opinion, free others from error, and in every discussion seek out what was most like the truth. This method, since Carneades held to it most acutely and most copiously, I have often elsewhere, and lately at Tusculum, made it my practice to argue after that fashion. And the discourse of the four days I have already sent you, written out in the earlier books; but on the fifth day, when we had taken our seats in the same place, this was set down as the matter we should argue:
sit igitur hic fons; utamur tamen in his perturbationibus describendis Stoicorum definitionibus et partitionibus, qui mihi videntur in hac quaestione versari acutissime. Est igitur Zenonis haec definitio, ut perturbatio sit, quod pa/qos ille dicit, aversa a recta ratione contra naturam animi commotio. quidam brevius perturbationem esse adpetitum vehementiorem, sed vehementiorem eum volunt esse, qui longius discesserit a naturae constantia. partes autem perturbationum volunt ex duobus opinatis bonis nasci et ex duobus opinatis malis; ita esse quattuor, ex bonis libidinem et laetitiam, ut sit laetitia praesentium bonorum, libido futurorum, ex malis metum et aegritudinem nasci censent, metum futuris, aegritudinem praesentibus; quae enim venientia metuuntur, eadem adficiunt aegritudine instantia.
— It does not seem to me that virtue can be sufficient for the happy life. — But it does, by Hercules, seem so to my friend Brutus, whose judgment, with your leave I shall say it, I rank far above yours. — I do not doubt it; nor is the question now how much you love him, but this, what the thing is which I have said seems true to me, and which I want you to argue. — You deny, then, that virtue can be sufficient for the happy life? — I deny it utterly. — What? For living rightly, honorably, laudably — in short, for living well — is there protection enough in virtue? — Certainly there is. — Can you, then, either not call wretched a man who lives badly, or deny that a man you admit lives well lives happily? — Why should I not? For even amid torments one can live rightly, honorably, laudably, and therefore well — provided only you understand what I now mean by "well." For I mean: steadfastly, with weight, wisely, bravely.
laetitia autem et libido in bonorum opinione versantur, cum libido ad id, quod videtur bonum, inlecta et inflammata rapiatur, laetitia ut adepta iam aliquid concupitum ecferatur et gestiat. natura enim omnes ea, quae bona videntur, secuntur fugiuntque contraria; quam ob rem simul obiecta species est cuiuspiam, quod bonum videatur, ad id adipiscendum impellit ipsa natura. id cum constanter prudenterque fit, eius modi adpetitionem Stoici bou/lhsin appellant, nos appellemus voluntatem, eam illi putant in solo esse sapiente; quam sic definiunt: voluntas est, quae quid cum ratione desiderat. quae autem ratione adversante incitata est vehementius, ea libido est vel cupiditas effrenata, quae in omnibus stultis invenitur.
These things are flung even upon the rack, to which the happy life does not aspire. — What then? Is the happy life, I ask you, the one thing left outside the door and threshold of the prison, when steadfastness, weight, courage, wisdom, and the rest of the virtues are dragged off to the torturer and refuse neither punishment nor pain? — You, if you mean to do anything, must search out something new; these things do not move me in the least — not only because they are commonplace, but much more because, just as certain light wines have no strength in water, so these doctrines of the Stoics please more when tasted than when drunk. So this chorus of virtues, set upon the rack, sets images before our eyes of the most ample dignity, so that the happy life seems likely to press on toward them at a run, and not to suffer them to be deserted by it;
itemque cum ita movemur, ut in bono simus aliquo, dupliciter id contingit. nam cum ratione animus movetur placide atque constanter, tum illud gaudium dicitur; cum autem inaniter et effuse animus exultat, tum illa laetitia gestiens vel nimia dici potest, quam ita definiunt: sine ratione animi elationem. quoniamque, ut bona natura adpetimus, sic a malis natura declinamus, quae declinatio si cum ratione fiet, cautio appelletur, eaque intellegatur in solo esse sapiente; quae autem sine ratione et cum exanimatione humili atque fracta, nominetur metus; est igitur metus a ratione aversa cautio.
but once you have drawn your mind away from that picture and those images of the virtues to the thing itself and the truth, this is left bare: whether a man can be happy as long as he is being tortured. This, then, is what we must now ask; but do not fear that the virtues will protest and complain that they have been abandoned by the happy life. For if no virtue is without prudence, prudence itself sees this — that not all good men are also happy; and it recalls many things about Marcus Atilius, Quintus Caepio, Manius Aquilius, and the happy life, if it please us to use images rather than the things themselves, prudence itself holds back as it tries to mount the rack, and denies that it has anything in common with pain and torment.
praesentis autem mali sapientis adfectio nulla est, stultorum aegritudo est, eaque adficiuntur in malis opinatis animosque demittunt et contrahunt rationi non obtemperantes. itaque haec prima definitio est, ut aegritudo sit animi adversante ratione contractio. sic quattuor perturbationes sunt, tres constantiae, quoniam aegritudini nulla constantia opponitur. Sed omnes perturbationes iudicio censent fieri et opinione. itaque eas definiunt pressius, ut intellegatur, non modo quam vitiosae, sed etiam quam in nostra sint potestate. est ergo aegritudo opinio recens mali praesentis, in quo demitti contrahique animo rectum esse videatur, laetitia opinio recens boni praesentis, in quo ecferri rectum esse videatur, metus opinio impendentis mali, quod intolerabile esse videatur, libido opinio venturi boni, quod sit ex usu iam praesens esse atque adesse.
— I am content to let you proceed in that way, though it is unfair of you to prescribe to me how you would have me argue. But I ask: are we to think that something was accomplished on the earlier days, or nothing? — Accomplished, surely, and a good deal. — And yet, if that is so, this question is already as good as won and brought almost to its conclusion. — How so, pray? — Because turbulent motions and agitations of the mind, roused and carried up by reckless impulse, repelling all reason, leave no part for the happy life. For who can fear death or pain — the one often present, the other always hanging over us — and not be wretched? What, moreover, if the same man, as commonly happens, fears poverty, disgrace, infamy; if he fears weakness, blindness; if, in the end, he fears that which has befallen not single men only but often whole peoples once mighty — slavery?
sed quae iudicia quasque opiniones perturbationum esse dixi, non in eis perturbationes solum positas esse dicunt, verum illa etiam quae efficiuntur perturbationibus, ut aegritudo quasi morsum aliquem doloris efficiat, metus recessum quendam animi et fugam, laetitia profusam hilaritatem, libido effrenatam adpetentiam. opinationem autem, quam in omnis definitiones superiores inclusimus, volunt esse inbecillam adsensionem.
Can anyone be happy while he fears such things? And what of the man who not only fears them as things to come, but actually bears and endures them when present — add to these exile, mourning, the loss of children — the man who, broken by these blows, is crushed by grief: can he, after all, be anything but utterly wretched? And what of this? The man whom we see inflamed and raging with his lusts, reaching madly after everything with an appetite that nothing can fill, and the more abundantly he drinks in pleasures from every side, the more heavily and burningly he thirsts — would you not be right to call him utterly wretched? And what of the man lifted up by frivolity, exulting in empty joy and capering without cause — is he not all the more wretched the happier he thinks himself? Therefore, just as these men are wretched, so on the other side those are happy whom no fears terrify, whom no griefs eat away, whom no lusts goad, whom no idle exulting joys melt with their enervating pleasures. As the calm of the sea is recognized when not the slightest breath of air stirs the waves, so the soul’s quiet and settled state is discerned when there is no disturbance by which it can be moved. And if there is a man who counts the force of fortune, and everything human that can befall anyone, as bearable — so that neither fear nor anguish can touch him — and if this same man craves nothing, is carried away by no empty pleasure of the soul, what reason is there why he should not be happy?
Sed singulis perturbationibus partes eiusdem generis plures subiciuntur, ut aegritudini invidentia— utendum est enim docendi causa verbo minus usitato, quoniam invidia non in eo qui invidet solum dicitur, sed etiam in eo cui invidetur —, aemulatio, obtrectatio, misericordia, angor, luctus, maeror, aerumna, dolor, lamentatio, sollicitudo, molestia, adflictatio, desperatio, et si quae sunt de genere eodem. sub metum autem subiecta sunt pigritia, pudor, terror, timor, pavor, exanimatio, conturbatio, formido, voluptati malivolentia laetans malo alieno, delectatio, iactatio et similia, lubidini ira, excandescentia, odium, inimicitia, discordia, indigentia, desiderium et cetera eius modi. Haec autem definiunt hoc modo: invidentiam esse dicunt aegritudinem susceptam propter alterius res secundas, quae nihil noceant invidenti.
And if these things are brought about by virtue, what reason is there why virtue itself, of itself, should not make men happy? — Well, the one cannot be denied: that those who fear nothing, are troubled by nothing, crave nothing, are carried away by no ungoverned joy, are happy; and so I grant you that. But the other is no longer an open question. For it was established in our earlier discussions that the wise man is free of every disturbance of the soul. — Then surely the matter is settled;
(nam si qui doleat eius rebus secundis a quo ipse laedatur, non recte dicatur invidere, ut si Hectori Agamemno; qui autem, cui alterius commoda nihil noceant, tamen eum doleat is frui, is invideat profecto.) aemulatio autem dupliciter illa quidem dicitur, ut et in laude et in vitio nomen hoc sit; nam et imitatio virtutis aemulatio dicitur— sed ea nihil hoc loco utimur; est enim laudis—, et est aemulatio aegritudo, si eo quod concupierit alius potiatur, ipse careat. obtrectatio autem est, ea quam intellegi zhlotupi/an volo, aegritudo ex eo, quod alter quoque potiatur eo quod ipse concupiverit.
for the inquiry seems to have reached its conclusion. — Nearly so, indeed. — And yet that is the way of the mathematicians, not of the philosophers. For when geometers wish to teach something, if anything bearing on the matter belongs among the things they have taught before, they take it as granted and proven, and explain only that about which nothing has been written before; whereas philosophers, whatever subject they have in hand, gather into it everything that bears upon it, even if it has been argued elsewhere. Were it not so, why would a Stoic, if the question were raised whether virtue can suffice for the happy life, say a great deal? It would be enough for him to answer that he had shown before that nothing is good except what is honorable, and that, this being proved, it follows that the happy life is content with virtue; and just as this follows from that, so the other follows from this — that, if the happy life is content with virtue, then, unless a thing is honorable, nothing else is good.
misericordia est aegritudo ex miseria alterius iniuria laborantis (nemo enim parricidae aut proditoris supplicio misericordia commovetur); angor aegritudo premens, luctus aegritudo ex eius qui carus fuerit interitu acerbo, maeror aegritudo flebilis, aerumna aegritudo laboriosa, dolor aegritudo crucians, lamentatio aegritudo cum eiulatu, sollicitudo aegritudo cum cogitatione, molestia aegritudo permanens, adflictatio aegritudo cum vexatione corporis, desperatio aegritudo sine ulla rerum expectatione meliorum. Quae autem subiecta sunt sub metum, ea sic definiunt: pigritiam metum consequentis laboris,.
But still they do not proceed in that way; for there are separate books both on the honorable and on the highest good, and although it follows from the latter that there is power enough in virtue for living happily, none the less they treat this point separately. For each subject must be handled with its own proper arguments and reminders, a subject so great above all. For do not suppose that any voice more illustrious has been uttered in philosophy, or that any of philosophy’s promises is richer or greater. For what does it profess? Good gods! That it will bring it about, for the man who has obeyed its laws, that he be forever armed against fortune, that he hold within himself every safeguard of living well and happily — that, in short, he be forever happy.
.. terrorem metum concutientem, ex quo fit ut pudorem rubor, terrorem pallor et tremor et dentium crepitus consequatur, timorem metum mali adpropinquantis, pavorem metum mentem loco moventem, ex quo illud Ennius: tum pavor sapientiam omnem mi exanimato expectorat, exanimationem metum subsequentem et quasi comitem pavoris, conturbationem metum excutientem cogitata, formidinem metum permanentem.
But I shall see what it can accomplish; in the meantime I value this very thing greatly, that it makes the promise. For Xerxes, indeed, glutted with all the rewards and gifts of fortune, not content with his cavalry, not with his foot soldiers, not with his multitude of ships, not with his boundless weight of gold, offered a prize to whoever should discover a new pleasure — with which pleasure itself he was not content either, for desire will never find an end; I could wish that we might draw out by a prize someone who would bring us something by which we might believe this more firmly.
Voluptatis autem partes hoc modo describunt, ut malevolentia sit voluptas ex malo alterius sine emolumento suo, delectatio voluptas suavitate auditus animum deleniens; et qualis est haec aurium, tales sunt oculorum et tactionum et odorationum et saporum, quae sunt omnes unius generis ad perfundendum animum tamquam inliquefactae voluptates. iactatio est voluptas gestiens et se efferens insolentius.
— I could wish that too; but I have one small point I would press. For I agree that, of the propositions you have set down, the one follows from the other: that just as, if only what is honorable is good, it follows that the happy life is brought about by virtue, so, if the happy life lies in virtue, nothing is good but virtue. But your friend Brutus, on the authority of Aristo and Antiochus, does not hold this; for he thinks that there is some good besides virtue. — What then?
Quae autem libidini subiecta sunt, ea sic definiuntur, ut ira sit libido poeniendi eius qui videatur laesisse iniuria, excandescentia autem sit ira nascens et modo existens, quae qu/mwsis Graece dicitur, odium ira inveterata, inimicitia ira ulciscendi tempus observans, discordia ira acerbior intimo animo et corde concepta, indigentia libido inexplebilis, desiderium libido eius, qui nondum adsit, videndi. distinguunt illud etiam, ut libido sit earum rerum, quae dicuntur de quodam aut quibusdam, quae kathgorh/mata dialectici appellant, ut habere divitias, capere honores, indigentia rerum ipsarum sit, ut honorum, ut pecuniae.
Do you suppose I shall speak against Brutus? — Just as you see fit; for to set limits beforehand is not my place. — What, then, is consistent with each view, we shall consider elsewhere. For on that matter I had a disagreement both with Antiochus often and with Aristo recently, when as commander I lodged with him at Athens. For it did not seem to me that anyone could be happy while he was in the midst of evils — and the wise man could be in the midst of evils, if there were any evils of the body or of fortune. These things were said — which Antiochus too wrote in several places — that virtue itself, of itself, can bring about the happy life, but not the happiest; further, that most things take their name from the greater part, even if some part should be missing — as strength, as health, as riches, as honor, as glory, which are reckoned by their kind, not by their number; and likewise that the happy life, even if it should be lame in some part, none the less holds its name from the much greater part.
Omnium autem perturbationum fontem esse dicunt intemperantiam, quae est a tota mente a recta ratione defectio sic aversa a praescriptione rationis, ut nullo modo adpetitiones animi nec regi nec contineri queant. quem ad modum igitur temperantia sedat adpetitiones et efficit, ut eae rectae rationi pareant, conservatque considerata iudicia mentis, sic huic inimica intemperantia omnem animi statum inflammat conturbat incitat, itaque et aegritudines et metus et reliquae perturbationes omnes gignuntur ex ea. Quem ad modum, cum sanguis corruptus est aut pituita redundat aut bilis, in corpore morbi aegrotationesque nascuntur, sic pravarum opinionum conturbatio et ipsarum inter se repugnantia sanitate spoliat animum morbisque perturbat;
It is not so necessary now to thresh these matters out, although they seem to me said not very consistently. For both, in the case of the man who is happy, I do not see what he should want in order to be happier — for if there is something he lacks, he is not even happy at all — and, as for their saying that each thing is named and regarded from the greater part, there is a place where this holds in that way; but when they say there are three kinds of evils, and a man is pressed by all the evils of two of those kinds — so that everything in his fortune is adverse, and his body is wholly overwhelmed and worn out with pains — shall we say that this man falls just a little short of the happy life, not to say the happiest?
ex perturbationibus autem primum morbi conficiuntur, quae vocant illi nosh/mata, eaque quae sunt eis morbis contraria, quae habent ad res certas vitiosam offensionem atque fastidium, deinde aegrotationes, quae appellantur a Stoicis a)rrwsth/mata, isque item oppositae contrariae offensiones. hoc loco nimium operae consumitur a Stoicis, maxime a Chrysippo, dum morbis corporum comparatur morborum animi similitudo; qua oratione praetermissa minime necessaria ea, quae rem continent, pertractemus.
This is the very thing that Theophrastus could not maintain. For when he had laid it down that lashings, tortures, torments, the overthrows of one’s country, exiles, the loss of children have great force toward living badly and wretchedly, he did not dare to speak loftily and largely, since he felt humbly and meanly. How well he felt is not the question — consistently, at any rate, beyond doubt. And so it is not my habit to find fault with what follows, when you have granted the premises. But this man, the most elegant and most learned of all philosophers, is not greatly faulted when he says there are three kinds of goods; he is harried, however, by everyone, above all in that book which he wrote on the happy life, in which he argues at length why a man who is tortured, who is racked, cannot be happy. In it he is also thought to say that the happy life does not mount the wheel — that being a certain kind of torture among the Greeks. He nowhere says that at all, in fact, but what he does say comes to the same thing.
intellegatur igitur perturbationem iactantibus se opinionibus inconstanter et turbide in motu esse semper; cum autem hic fervor concitatioque animi inveteraverit et tamquam in venis medullisque insederit, tum existet et morbus et aegrotatio et offensiones eae, quae sunt eis morbis aegrotationibusque contrariae. Haec, quae dico, cogitatione inter se differunt, re quidem copulata sunt, eaque oriuntur ex libidine et ex laetitia. nam cum est concupita pecunia nec adhibita continuo ratio quasi quaedam Socratica medicina, quae sanaret eam cupiditatem, permanat in venas et inhaeret in visceribus illud malum, existitque morbus et aegrotatio, quae evelli inveterata non possunt, eique morbo nomen est avaritia;
Can I, then, who have granted that bodily pains are among evils, that the shipwrecks of fortune are among evils, be angry with him for saying that not all good men are happy, when those things which he reckons among evils can fall upon all good men? This same Theophrastus is harried in both the books and the schools of all the philosophers, because in his Callisthenes he praised that maxim: Fortune, not wisdom, rules our life. They say that nothing more spineless was ever uttered by any philosopher. Rightly so, indeed; but I do not see that anything more consistent could have been said. For if there are so many goods in the body, so many outside the body in chance and fortune, is it not consistent that fortune — which is the mistress of all things both external and pertaining to the body — should have more power than counsel?
similiterque ceteri morbi, ut gloriae cupiditas, ut mulierositas, ut ita appellem eam quae Graece filoguni/a dicitur, ceterique similiter morbi aegrotationesque nascuntur. quae autem sunt his contraria, ea nasci putantur a metu, ut odium mulierum, quale in misogu/nw| Atili est, ut in hominum universum genus, quod accepimus de Timone qui misa/nqrwpos appellatur, ut inhospitalitas est: quae omnes aegrotationes animi ex quodam metu nascuntur earum rerum quas fugiunt et oderunt.
Or do we prefer to imitate Epicurus? Who often says many fine things; for how consistently and coherently he speaks with himself does not trouble him. He praises a frugal way of life. The remark of a philosopher, indeed — but only if a Socrates or an Antisthenes said it, not the man who declared pleasure to be the end of goods. He denies that anyone can live pleasantly unless he also lives honorably, wisely, and justly. Nothing weightier, nothing worthier of philosophy — were it not that he refers this very honorable, wise, and just living to pleasure. What is better than: that fortune intrudes but little upon the wise man? But does he say this — he who, after declaring pain to be not only the greatest evil but the only evil, can be overwhelmed in his whole body by the sharpest pains at the very moment when he most boasts against fortune? The same thing Metrodorus put in even better words:
definiunt autem animi aegrotationem opinationem vehementem de re non expetenda, tamquam valde expetenda sit, inhaerentem et penitus insitam. quod autem nascitur ex offensione, ita definiunt: opinionem vehementem de re non fugienda inhaerentem et penitus insitam tamquam fugienda; haec autem opinatio est iudicatio se scire, quod nesciat. aegrotationi autem talia quaedam subiecta sunt: avaritia, ambitio, mulierositas, pervicacia, ligurritio, vinulentia, cuppedia, et si qua similia. est autem avaritia opinatio vehemens de pecunia, quasi valde expetenda sit, inhaerens et penitus insita, similisque est eiusdem generis definitio reliquarum.
I have forestalled you, he says, Fortune, and laid hold of you, and blocked up all your approaches, so that you cannot reach me. Splendid — if Aristo of Chios or the Stoic Zeno had said it, men who counted nothing evil except what was base; but you, Metrodorus, who lodged every good in the entrails and the marrow, and defined the highest good as bounded by a sound condition of the body and the assured hope of its continuance — you have blocked up the approaches of Fortune? How so? For of that very good you can be stripped at any moment. And yet by such talk the inexperienced are caught, and on account of maxims of this kind the crowd that follows these men is large;
offensionum autem definitiones sunt eius modi, ut inhospitalitas sit opinio vehemens valde fugiendum esse hospitem, eaque inhaerens et penitus insita; similiterque definitur et mulierum odium, ut Hippolyti, et, ut Timonis, generis humani. Atque ut ad valetudinis similitudinem veniamus eaque conlatione utamur aliquando, sed parcius quam solent Stoici: ut sunt alii ad alios morbos procliviores —itaque dicimus gravidinosos quosdam, quosdam torminosos, non quia iam sint, sed quia saepe sint—, sic alii ad metum, alii ad aliam perturbationem; ex quo in aliis anxietas, unde anxii, in aliis iracundia dicitur. quae ab ira differt, estque aliud iracundum esse, aliud iratum, ut differt anxietas ab angore (neque enim omnes anxii, qui anguntur aliquando, nec, qui anxii, semper anguntur), ut inter ebrietatem et ebriositatem interest, aliudque est amatorem esse, aliud amantem. atque haec aliorum ad alios morbos proclivitas late patet; nam pertinet ad omnes perturbationes;
but it is the mark of one who argues acutely to see, not what each man says, but what each man ought to say. As, for instance, in the very position which we have taken up in this discussion, we hold that all good men are always happy. Whom I call good men is plain; for those equipped and adorned with all the virtues we call now wise men, now good men. Let us see who are to be called happy.
in multis etiam vitiis apparet, sed nomen res non habet. ergo et invidi et malivoli et libidinosi et timidi et misericordes, quia proclives ad eas perturbationes sunt, non quia semper feruntur. haec igitur proclivitas ad suum quodque genus a similitudine corporis aegrotatio dicatur, dum ea intellegatur ad aegrotandum proclivitas. sed haec in bonis rebus, quod alii ad alia bona sunt aptiores, facilitas nominetur, in malis proclivitas, ut significet lapsionem, in neutris habeat superius nomen. Quo modo autem in corpore est morbus, est aegrotatio, est vitium, sic in animo. morbum appellant totius corporis corruptionem, aegrotationem morbum cum imbecillitate, vitium, cum partes corporis inter se dissident, ex quo pravitas membrorum, distortio, deformitas.
For my part, I judge them to be those who are among goods with no evil joined to them; nor is any other notion attached to this word, when we say "happy," than the full assemblage of goods, with all evils set apart. This virtue cannot attain, if there is any good besides itself. For there will be present a certain throng of evils, if we count those things evils: poverty, obscurity, low standing, loneliness, the loss of one’s own, grievous bodily pains, ruined health, infirmity, blindness, the destruction of one’s country, exile, slavery at the last. Amid these so many and so great evils — and yet more can befall — the wise man can find himself; for these chance brings on, and chance can run upon the wise man. But if these are evils, who can guarantee that the wise man will always be happy, when he may be in the midst of them all at one and the same time?
itaque illa duo, morbus et aegrotatio, ex totius valetudinis corporis conquassatione et perturbatione gignuntur, vitium autem integra valetudine ipsum ex se cernitur. sed in animo tantum modo cogitatione possumus morbum ab aegrotatione seiungere, vitiositas autem est habitus aut adfectio in tota vita inconstans et a se ipsa dissentiens. ita fit, ut in altera corruptione opinionum morbus efficiatur et aegrotatio, in altera inconstantia et repugnantia. non enim omne vitium paris habet dissensiones, ut eorum, qui non longe a sapientia absunt, adfectio est illa quidem discrepans sibi ipsa, dum est insipiens, sed non distorta nec prava. morbi autem et aegrotationes partes sunt vitiositatis, sed perturbationes sintne eiusdem partes, quaestio est.
I do not, then, easily grant — neither to my own Brutus, nor to our common masters, nor to those ancients, Aristotle, Speusippus, Xenocrates, Polemo — that, while they count among evils the things I enumerated above, they should yet say that the wise man is always happy. If this distinction delights them, splendid and beautiful and most worthy of Pythagoras, Socrates, and Plato, let them bring their minds to despise those things by whose splendor they are caught — strength, health, beauty, riches, honors, resources — and to count as nothing the things contrary to these: then they will be able to declare with the clearest voice that they are terrified neither by the onset of fortune, nor by the opinion of the crowd, nor by pain, nor by poverty, and that everything for them is lodged within themselves, and that there is nothing outside their own power which they reckon among goods.
vitia enim adfectiones sunt manentes, perturbationes autem moventes, ut non possint adfectionum manentium partes esse. Atque ut in malis attingit animi naturam corporis similitudo, sic in bonis. sunt enim in corpore praecipua, pulchritudo, vires, valetudo, firmitas, velocitas, sunt item in animo. ut enim corporis temperatio, cum ea congruunt inter se e quibus constamus, sanitas, sic animi dicitur, cum eius iudicia opinionesque concordant, eaque animi est virtus, quam alii ipsam temperantiam dicunt esse, alii obtemperantem temperantiae praeceptis et eam subsequentem nec habentem ullam speciem suam, sed sive hoc sive illud sit, in solo esse sapiente. est autem quaedam animi sanitas, quae in insipientem etiam cadat, cum curatione et purgatione medicorum conturbatio mentis aufertur.
To say these things now — which belong to some great and lofty man — and at the same time to reckon among evils and goods what the crowd reckons there, can in no way be allowed. Stirred by that glory Epicurus comes forward; to him too, if you please, the wise man seems always happy. He is captivated by the dignity of this opinion; but he would never say it, if he listened to himself. For what is there less consistent than that the very man who says that pain is either the highest or the only evil should also hold that the wise man will say, even while he is racked with pain, "How sweet this is!"? Philosophers, then, are not to be judged from single utterances, but from their continuity and consistency.
et ut corporis est quaedam apta figura membrorum cum coloris quadam suavitate eaque dicitur pulchritudo, sic in animo opinionum iudiciorumque aequabilitas et constantia cum firmitate quadam et stabilitate virtutem subsequens aut virtutis vim ipsam continens pulchritudo vocatur. itemque viribus corporis et nervis et efficacitati similes similibus quoque verbis animi vires nominantur. velocitas autem corporis celeritas appellatur, quae eadem ingenii etiam laus habetur propter animi multarum rerum brevi tempore percursionem. Illud animorum corporumque dissimile, quod animi valentes morbo temptari non possunt, corpora possunt; sed corporum offensiones sine culpa accidere possunt, animorum non item, quorum omnes morbi et perturbationes ex aspernatione rationis eveniunt. itaque in hominibus solum existunt; nam bestiae simile quiddam faciunt, sed in perturbationes non incidunt.
You bring me to agree with you. But see that your own consistency, too, is not found wanting. — How so? — Because I lately read your fourth book on the ends of good and evil; in it you seemed to me, in arguing against Cato, to wish to show this — which for my part I do approve — that between Zeno and the Peripatetics there is nothing at issue but a novelty of terms. And if that is so, what reason is there why, if it is consistent with Zeno’s account that there should be force enough in virtue for living happily, the same should not be open to the Peripatetics to say? For the matter, I think, is what ought to be looked at, not the words.
inter acutos autem et inter hebetes interest, quod ingeniosi, ut aes Corinthium in aeruginem, sic illi in morbum et incidunt tardius et recreantur ocius, hebetes non item. nec vero in omnem morbum ac perturbationem animus ingeniosi cadit; †non enim multa ecferata et immania; quaedam autem humanitatis quoque habent primam speciem, ut misericordia aegritudo metus. Aegrotationes autem morbique animorum difficilius evelli posse putantur quam summa illa vitia, quae virtutibus sunt contraria. morbis enim manentibus vitia sublata esse non possunt, quia non tam celeriter sanantur quam illa tolluntur.
You deal with me by sealed documents, calling to witness what I once said or wrote. Do that with others, who debate under imposed rules; we live from day to day. Whatever has struck our minds with probability, that we say; and so we alone are free. Yet since we spoke a little earlier about consistency, I do not think the question to be asked here is whether it is true — what was Zeno’s view, and his pupil Aristo’s, that the only good is the honorable — but whether, if it were so, it would then be consistent to rest this whole business of living happily in virtue alone.
Habes ea quae de perturbationibus enucleate disputant Stoici, quae logika/ appellant, quia disseruntur subtilius. ex quibus quoniam tamquam ex scrupulosis cotibus enavigavit oratio, reliquae disputationis cursum teneamus, modo satis illa dilucide dixerimus pro rerum obscuritate. Prorsus satis; sed si quae diligentius erunt cognoscenda, quaeremus alias, nunc vela, quae modo dicebas, expectamus et cursum.
So let us grant Brutus this much, by all means — that the wise man is always happy. How far this is consistent with himself, let him see to it; as for the glory of this opinion, who is worthier of it than that man? Yet let us hold to our point: that he is also supremely happy. And though Zeno of Citium, a kind of newcomer and obscure artificer of words, seems to have insinuated himself into the ancient philosophy, the weight of this opinion may be traced back to the authority of Plato, in whom this manner of speaking is often employed — that nothing is called good except virtue. So in the Gorgias Socrates, when he had been asked whether he did not think Archelaus the son of Perdiccas, who was then held the most fortunate of men, a happy man, replied, "I do not know;
Quando, ut aliis locis de virtute et diximus et saepe dicendum erit—pleraeque enim quaestiones, quae ad vitam moresque pertinent, a virtutis fonte ducuntur —, quando igitur virtus est adfectio animi constans conveniensque, laudabiles efficiens eos, in quibus est, et ipsa per se sua sponte separata etiam utilitate laudabilis, ex ea proficiscuntur honestae voluntates sententiae actiones omnisque recta ratio (quamquam ipsa virtus brevissume recta ratio dici potest). huius igitur virtutis contraria est vitiositas—sic enim malo quam malitiam appellare eam quam Graeci kaki/an appellant; nam malitia certi cuiusdam vitii nomen est, vitiositas omnium—; ex qua concitantur perturbationes, quae sunt, ut paulo ante diximus, turbidi animorum concitatique motus, aversi a ratione et inimicissimi mentis vitaeque tranquillae. inportant enim aegritudines anxias atque acerbas animosque adfligunt et debilitant metu; idem inflammant adpetitione nimia, quam tum cupiditatem tum libidinem dicimus, inpotentiam quandam animi a temperantia et moderatione plurimum dissidentem.
for I have never talked with him." — Is that so? Can you not know it any other way? — In no way. — Then you cannot say even of the great king of the Persians whether he is happy? — How could I, when I do not know how learned he is, how good a man? — What? Do you think the happy life consists in that? — Just so, entirely; I judge the good to be happy, the wicked wretched. — Archelaus, then, is wretched? — Certainly, if he is unjust.
quae si quando adepta erit id quod ei fuerit concupitum, tum ecferetur alacritate, ut nihil ei constet, quod agat, ut ille, qui voluptatem animi nimiam summum esse errorem arbitratur. eorum igitur malorum in una virtute posita sanatio est. Quid autem est non miserius solum, sed foedius etiam et deformius quam aegritudine quis adflictus debilitatus iacens? cui miseriae proxumus est is qui adpropinquans aliquod malum metuit exanimatusque pendet animi. quam vim mali significantes poëtae impendere apud inferos saxum Tantalo faciunt ob scelera animique inpotentiam et superbiloquentiam. ea communis poena stultitiae est. omnibus enim, quorum mens abhorret a ratione, semper aliqui talis terror impendet.
Does he not seem here to rest the whole happy life in virtue alone? And what of this — how does the same man speak in the funeral oration? "For the man to whom all things that bear on living happily depend on himself, and are not left hanging on the good or ill chance of others, nor forced to drift with another’s fortunes — for him the way of living best has been provided. He it is who is moderate, he who is brave, he who is wise; he it is who, when goods come and when they go — children above all, with the rest of his comforts — will yield and obey that old precept: for he will never rejoice too much nor grieve too much, because he sets all his hope of himself always in himself." From Plato, then, as from a kind of holy and august spring, all our discourse will flow. From where, then, can we more rightly begin than from our common parent, nature?
atque ut haec tabificae mentis perturbationes sunt, aegritudinem dico et metum, sic hilariores illae, cupiditas avide semper aliquid expetens et inanis alacritas, id est laetitia gestiens, non multum differunt ab amentia. ex quo intellegitur, qualis ille sit, quem tum moderatum, alias modestum temperantem, alias constantem continentemque dicimus; non numquam haec eadem vocabula ad frugalitatis nomen tamquam ad caput referre volumus. quodnisi eo nomine virtutes continerentur, numquam ita pervolgatum illud esset, ut iam proverbii locum optineret, hominem frugi omnia recte facere. quod idem cum Stoici de sapiente dicunt, nimis admirabiliter nimisque magnifice dicere videntur.
Nature willed that whatever she has brought forth — not only the animal, but also that which has so sprung from the earth as to be held up by its own roots — should be perfect, each thing in its own kind. And so trees and vines, and the lowlier things that cannot lift themselves higher from the ground — some are forever green, others, stripped bare in winter, put out leaves when the spring has warmed them; and there is nothing that does not so thrive, by a certain inner motion and by the seeds shut up in each, that it pours forth either flowers or fruits or berries; and all things, in all things, so far as lies in them, are perfect when no force stands in the way.
Ergo hic, quisquis est, qui moderatione et constantia quietus animo est sibique ipse placatus, ut nec tabescat molestiis nec frangatur timore nec sitienter quid expetens ardeat desiderio nec alacritate futtili gestiens deliquescat, is est sapiens quem quaerimus, is est beatus, cui nihil humanarum rerum aut intolerabile ad demittendum animum aut nimis laetabile ad ecferendum videri potest. quid enim videatur ei magnum in rebus humanis, cui aeternitas omnis totiusque mundi nota sit magnitudo? nam quid aut in studiis humanis aut in tam exigua brevitate vitae magnum sapienti videri potest, qui semper animo sic excubat, ut ei nihil inprovisum accidere possit, nihil inopinatum, nihil omnino novum?
But the force of nature herself can be discerned even more easily in the beasts, because to them sense has been given by nature. For some beasts nature willed to be swimmers and dwellers in the waters; others, winged, to enjoy the free sky; some to be crawlers, some walkers; and of these themselves, some to range alone, some to gather in herds; some to be savage, others tame; some to be hidden away and covered by the earth. And each of them, keeping to its own office, since it cannot cross over into the life of an unlike creature, abides in the law of nature. And just as to the beasts something distinct was given to each by nature, which each retains as its own and does not depart from, so to man something far more excellent was given — though only those things ought to be called excellent that admit of some comparison. The human mind, plucked from the divine intelligence, can be compared with nothing else but God himself, if it is right to say so.
atque idem ita acrem in omnis partis aciem intendit, ut semper videat sedem sibi ac locum sine molestia atque angore vivendi, ut, quemcumque casum fortuna invexerit, hunc apte et quiete ferat. quod qui faciet, non aegritudine solum vacabit, sed etiam perturbationibus reliquis omnibus. his autem vacuus animus perfecte atque absolute beatos efficit, idemque concitatus et abstractus ab integra certaque ratione non constantiam solum amittit, verum etiam sanitatem. Quocirca mollis et enervata putanda est Peripateticorum ratio et oratio, qui perturbari animos necesse dicunt esse, sed adhibent modum quendam, quem ultra progredi non oporteat.
If, then, this mind has been cultivated, and if its keen edge has been so tended that it is not blinded by errors, it becomes perfect intelligence — that is, completed reason — which is the same as virtue. And if everything is happy that lacks nothing, and that is filled out and brought to fullness in its own kind, and if this is the property of virtue, then surely all who possess virtue are happy. And here I agree with Brutus — that is, with Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, Polemo. But to me they seem also supremely happy.
modum tu adhibes vitio? an vitium nullum est non parere rationi? an ratio parum praecipit nec bonum illud esse, quod aut cupias ardenter aut adeptus ecferas te insolenter, nec porro malum, quo aut oppressus iaceas aut, ne opprimare, mente vix constes? eaque omnia aut nimis tristia aut nimis laeta errore fieri, qui si error stultis extenuetur die, ut, cum res eadem maneat, aliter ferant inveterata aliter recentia, sapientis ne attingat quidem omnino?
For what is lacking for living happily to the man who trusts in his own goods? Or how can one who distrusts them be happy? And distrust them he must, who divides goods into three kinds. For how will he be able to trust in the firmness of his body or the stability of fortune? Yet without a good that is stable and fixed and lasting, no one can be happy. What, then, of theirs is of that sort? So that the saying of the Laconian seems to me to fall upon these men — who, to a certain merchant boasting that he had sent out many ships to every coast of the sea, said, "That fortune, hung upon ropes, is not greatly to be desired." Is there any doubt that nothing is to be counted among the things by which the happy life is filled out, if it can be lost? For nothing of those things in which the happy life consists ought to wither, nothing to be quenched, nothing to fall away. For whoever fears to lose any of them cannot be happy.
Etenim quis erit tandem modus iste? quaeramus enim modum aegritudinis, in qua operae plurimum ponitur. aegre tulisse P. Rupilium fratris repulsam consulatus scriptum apud Fannium est. sed tamen transisse videtur modum, quippe qui ob eam causam a vita recesserit; moderatius igitur ferre debuit. quid, si, cum id ferret modice, mors liberorum accessisset? nata esset aegritudo nova, sed ea modica. magna tamen facta esset accessio. quid, si deinde dolores graves corporis, si bonorum amissio, si caecitas, si exilium? si pro singulis malis aegritudines accederent, summa ea fieret, quae non sustineretur.
For we want the man who is happy to be safe, unassailable, fenced about and fortified — not so as to be furnished with some small fear, but with none at all. For just as a man is called blameless not who does slight harm, but who does no harm, so he is to be held free from fear not who fears small things, but who is altogether empty of fear. For what else is courage but a disposition of the mind that endures in facing danger and in toil and pain, and at the same time stands far off from all fear? And these things surely would not be so, unless every good consisted in the honorable alone.
Qui modum igitur vitio quaerit, similiter facit, ut si posse putet eum qui se e Leucata praecipitaverit sustinere se, cum velit. ut enim id non potest, sic animus perturbatus et incitatus nec cohibere se potest nec, quo loco vult, insistere. omninoque, quae crescentia perniciosa sunt, eadem sunt vitiosa nascentia;
And how can anyone possess that most longed-for and sought-after security — by security I now mean freedom from distress, in which the happy life is set — when there is, or can be, a multitude of evils close upon him? How can anyone be lofty and upright, counting all that can befall a man as small — such as we want the wise man to be — unless he reckons that all his goods rest within himself? When Philip threatened the Spartans by letter that he would block everything they attempted, did they not ask whether he would block them even from dying? Will not the man we are seeking be found far more readily with such a spirit than a whole state was found? What more? When to this courage of which we speak temperance is joined — the moderator of all commotions — what can be lacking for living happily to the man whom courage delivers from distress and from fear, while temperance both calls him away from lust and does not let him exult in any insolent excitement? That virtue brings these things about I would show, were they not set out in the earlier days.
aegritudo autem ceteraeque perturbationes amplificatae certe pestiferae sunt: igitur etiam susceptae continuo in magna pestis parte versantur. etenim ipsae se impellunt, ubi semel a ratione discessum est, ipsaque sibi imbecillitas indulget in altumque provehitur imprudens nec reperit locum consistendi. quam ob rem nihil interest, utrum moderatas perturbationes adprobent an moderatam iniustitiam, moderatam ignaviam, moderatam intemperantiam; qui enim vitiis modum apponit, is partem suscipit vitiorum; quod cum ipsum per se odiosum est, tum eo molestius, quia sunt in lubrico incitataque semel proclivi labuntur sustinerique nullo modo possunt. Quid, quod idem Peripatetici perturbationes istas, quas nos extirpandas putamus, non modo naturalis esse dicunt, sed etiam utiliter a natura datas?
And since disturbances of the mind make for misery, while their calming makes life happy, and the account of disturbance is twofold — for distress and fear turn upon imagined evils, while exultant gladness and lust turn upon a mistaken view of goods, all of them at war with counsel and reason — when you have seen a man empty of these so weighty agitations, so much at variance and at odds among themselves, and so set loose and free, will you hesitate to call him happy? But the wise man is always so disposed; the wise man, therefore, is always happy. And further: every good is a thing to rejoice in; and what is to be rejoiced in is to be proclaimed and carried before one; and what is of that sort is also a thing of glory; and if of glory, then surely praiseworthy; and what is praiseworthy is assuredly also honorable.
quorum est talis oratio: primum multis verbis iracundiam laudant, cotem fortitudinis esse dicunt, multoque et in hostem et in inprobum civem vehementioris iratorum impetus esse, levis autem ratiunculas eorum, qui ita cogitarent: proelium rectum est hoc fieri, convenit dimicare pro legibus, pro libertate, pro patria; haec nullam habent vim, nisi ira excanduit fortitudo. nec vero de bellatoribus solum disputant: imperia severiora nulla esse putant sine aliqua acerbitate iracundiae; oratorem denique non modo accusantem, sed ne defendentem quidem probant sine aculeis iracundiae, quae etiamsi non adsit, tamen verbis atque motu simulandam arbitrantur, ut auditoris iram oratoris incendat actio. virum denique videri negant qui irasci nesciet, eamque, quam lenitatem nos dicimus, vitioso lentitudinis nomine appellant.
What is good, therefore, is honorable. But the things these men reckon among goods, not even they themselves call honorable; the only good, then, is the honorable. From which it follows that the happy life is contained in the honorable alone. Those things, then, are not to be called goods, nor to be held such, in which a man may abound and yet be utterly wretched.
Nec vero solum hanc libidinem laudant—est enim ira, ut modo definivi, ulciscendi libido—, sed ipsum illud genus vel libidinis vel cupiditatis ad summam utilitatem esse dicunt a natura datum; nihil enim quemquam nisi quod lubeat praeclare facere posse. noctu ambulabat in publico Themistocles, quod somnum capere non posset, quaerentibusque respondebat Miltiadis tropaeis se e somno suscitari. cui non sunt auditae Demosthenis vigiliae? qui dolere se aiebat, si quando opificum antelucana victus esset industria. philosophiae denique ipsius principes numquam in suis studiis tantos progressus sine flagranti cupiditate facere potuissent. ultimas terras lustrasse Pythagoran Democritum Platonem accepimus. ubi enim quicquid esset quod disci posset, eo veniendum iudicaverunt. num putamus haec fieri sine summo cupiditatis ardore potuisse?
Or do you doubt that a man outstanding in health, strength, beauty, with the keenest and soundest senses — add even, if you like, agility and speed, throw in riches, honors, commands, power, glory — if the man who has these be unjust, intemperate, cowardly, of a dull and worthless wit, you would not hesitate to call him wretched? Of what sort, then, are those goods which the man who has them can be utterly wretched? Let us consider whether, just as a heap is made of grains of its own kind, so the happy life ought to be made of parts that resemble itself. And if that is so, it must be made of goods that are honorable alone; if these shall be mixed of unlike things, nothing honorable can be made of them; and once that is taken away, what can be understood as happy? For whatever is good is a thing to be desired; and what is to be desired is surely to be approved; and what you have approved is to be held welcome and acceptable; and so worth must be assigned to it as well. And if that is so, it must of necessity be praiseworthy; every good, then, is praiseworthy. From which it follows that what is honorable is the only good.
Ipsam aegritudinem, quam nos ut taetram et inmanem beluam fugiendam diximus, non sine magna utilitate a natura dicunt constitutam, ut homines castigationibus reprehensionibus ignominiis adfici se in delicto dolerent. impunitas enim peccatorum data videtur eis qui ignominiam et infamiam ferunt sine dolore; morderi est melius conscientia. ex quo est illud e vita ductum ab Afranio: nam cum dissolutus filius: heu me miserum! tum severus pater: dum modo doleat aliquid, doleat quidlubet.
For unless we hold to this firmly, there will be many things that we shall have to call goods. I leave aside riches — which, since anyone, however unworthy, may possess them, I do not count among goods, for what is a good cannot be possessed by just anyone; I leave aside nobility and a fame stirred up by the agreement of fools and rogues: yet these, though they are the least of things, must still be called goods — bright little teeth, charming eyes, a pleasing complexion, and the things that Anticlea praises while washing the feet of Ulysses: the smoothness of his speech, the softness of his body. If we shall reckon these as goods, what will there be in a philosopher’s gravity that can be called either weightier or grander than what is in the opinion of the crowd and the throng of fools?
Reliquas quoque partis aegritudinis utilis esse dicunt, misericordiam ad opem ferendam et calamitates hominum indignorum sublevandas; ipsum illud aemulari obtrectare non esse inutile, cum aut se non idem videat consecutum, quod alium, aut alium idem, quod se; metum vero si qui sustulisset, omnem vitae diligentiam sublatam fore, quae summa esset in eis qui leges, qui magistratus, qui paupertatem, qui ignominiam, qui mortem, qui dolorem timerent. Haec tamen ita disputant, ut resecanda esse fateantur, evelli penitus dicant nec posse nec opus esse et in omnibus fere rebus mediocritatem esse optumam existiment. quae cum exponunt, nihilne tibi videntur an aliquid dicere? Mihi vero dicere aliquid, itaque expecto, quid ad ista. Reperiam fortasse, sed illud ante:
But, you say, the Stoics call these same things "preferred" or "advanced," which your school calls goods. They do call them so, to be sure; but they deny that the happy life is made complete by them — whereas these others think there is no happy life without them, or, if there is, certainly deny it is the happiest. We, however, will have it the happiest, and this is confirmed for us by that Socratic chain of reasoning. For thus did that prince of philosophy argue: as the disposition of each man’s soul is, such is the man; and as the man himself is, such is his speech; and his deeds are like his speech, and his life like his deeds. But the disposition of a good man’s soul is praiseworthy; and so the life of a good man is praiseworthy; and therefore honorable, since praiseworthy. From which it is concluded that the life of good men is happy.
videsne, quanta fuerit apud Academicos verecundia? plane enim dicunt, quod ad rem pertineat: Peripateticis respondetur a Stoicis; digladientur illi per me licet, cui nihil est necesse nisi, ubi sit illud, quod veri simillimum videatur, anquirere. quid est igitur quod occurrat in hac quaestione, e quo possit attingi aliquid veri simile, quo longius mens humana progredi non potest? definitio perturbationis, qua recte Zenonem usum puto. ita enim definit, ut perturbatio sit aversa a ratione contra naturam animi commotio, vel brevius, ut perturbatio sit adpetitus vehementior, vehementior autem intellegatur is qui procul absit a naturae constantia.
For, by the faith of gods and men! — was it too little established in our earlier discussions, or did we speak merely for delight and to pass the leisure hours, that the wise man is always free from every commotion of soul, which I call a disturbance, and that there is always in his soul the most placid peace? A man, then, who is temperate, steadfast, without fear, without distress, without idle elation, without lust — is he not happy? But the wise man is always such; therefore he is always happy. And further, how can a good man fail to refer to what is praiseworthy everything that he does and everything that he feels? But he refers everything to living happily; therefore the happy life is praiseworthy; and nothing is praiseworthy without virtue: therefore the happy life is brought about by virtue.
quid ad has definitiones possim dicere? atque haec pleraque sunt prudenter acuteque disserentium, illa quidem ex rhetorum pompa: ardores animorum cotesque virtutum. an vero vir fortis, nisi stomachari coepit, non potest fortis esse? gladiatorium id quidem. quamquam in eis ipsis videmus saepe constantiam: conlocuntur, congrediuntur, quaerunt aliquid, postulant, ut magis placati quam irati esse videantur, sed in illo genere sit sane Pacideianus aliquis hoc animo, ut narrat Lucilius: Occidam illum equidem et vincam, si id quaeritis inquit, Verum illud credo fore: in os prius accipiam ipse Quam gladium in stomacho furi ac pulmonibus sisto. Odi hominem, iratus pugno, nec longius quicquam Nobis, quam dextrae gladium dum accommodet alter; Usque adeo studio atque odio illius ecferor ira; at sine hac gladiatoria iracundia videmus progredientem apud Homerum Aiacem multa cum hilaritate, cum depugnaturus esset cum Hectore;
And this too is concluded in the following way: there is nothing to be proclaimed or gloried in either in a wretched life or in one that is neither wretched nor happy. And yet in some life there is something to be proclaimed and gloried in and held up before the world, as in Epaminondas: by our counsels the glory of the Spartans was shorn; or in Africanus: from the rising of the sun above the marshes of Maeotis, there is no man who can match my deeds.
cuius, ut arma sumpsit, ingressio laetitiam attulit sociis, terrorem autem hostibus, ut ipsum Hectorem, quem ad modum est apud Homerum, toto pectore trementem provocasse ad pugnam paeniteret. atque hi conlocuti inter se, prius quam manum consererent, leniter et quiete nihil ne in ipsa quidem pugna iracunde rabioseve fecerunt. ego ne Torquatum quidem illum, qui hoc cognomen invenit, iratum existimo Gallo torquem detraxisse, nec Marcellum apud Clastidium ideo fortem fuisse, quia fuerit iratus.
And if this is so, then the happy life is to be gloried in and proclaimed and held up before the world; for there is nothing else that ought to be proclaimed and held up before the world. With these things laid down, you understand what follows. And indeed, unless that life is happy which is also honorable, it follows of necessity that there is something better than the happy life; for whatever shall be honorable, they will certainly admit to be better. So the happy life will be something less than another thing; and what can be said more perverse than that? What of this? When they admit that there is force enough in vices to make a life wretched, must it not be admitted that there is the same force in virtue to make it happy? For of contraries the consequences are contrary.
de Africano quidem, quia notior est nobis propter recentem memoriam, vel iurare possum non illum iracundia tum inflammatum fuisse, cum in acie M. Alliennium Paelignum scuto protexerit gladiumque hosti in pectus infixerit. de L. Bruto fortasse dubitarim, an propter infinitum odium tyranni ecfrenatius in Arruntem invaserit; video enim utrumque comminus ictu cecidisse contrario. quid igitur huc adhibetis iram? an fortitudo, nisi insanire coepit, impetus suos non habet? quid? Herculem, quem in caelum ista ipsa, quam vos iracundiam esse vultis, sustulit fortitudo, iratumne censes conflixisse cum Erymanthio apro aut leone Nemeaeo? an etiam Theseus Marathonii tauri cornua conprehendit iratus? vide ne fortitudo minime sit rabiosa sitque iracundia tota levitatis.
At this point I ask what force there is in that balance of Critolaus, who, when he places the goods of the soul in one pan and the goods of the body and external goods in the other, thinks the pan of the soul’s goods weighs down so heavily that it would sink the earth and the seas. What, then, prevents either this man, or that gravest of philosophers Xenocrates, who exalts virtue so greatly while making light of everything else and casting it away, from placing in virtue not merely a happy life but the happiest of lives?
Neque enim est ulla fortitudo, quae rationis est expers. contemnendae res humanae sunt, neglegenda mors est, patibiles et dolores et labores putandi — haec cum constituta sunt iudicio atque sententia, tum est robusta illa et stabilis fortitudo, nisi forte, quae vehementer acriter animose fiunt, iracunde fieri suspicamur. mihi ne Scipio quidem ille pontufex maxumus, qui hoc Stoicorum verum esse declaravit, numquam privatum esse sapientem, iratus videtur fuisse Ti. Graccho tum, cum consulem languentem reliquit atque ipse privatus, ut si consul esset, qui rem publicam salvam esse vellent, se sequi iussit.
And unless this is so, the destruction of the virtues will follow. For on whomever distress falls, fear must fall on the same man as well — for fear is the anxious expectation of distress to come; and on whomever fear falls, on the same man fall dread, timidity, panic, cowardice; and so the same man will at times be conquered, and will not think that precept of Atreus applies to him: let them so prepare themselves in life that they know not how to be conquered. But this man will be conquered, as I have said, and not only conquered but enslaved as well; while we will have virtue always free, always unconquered; and unless these things hold, virtue is overthrown.
nescio, ecquid ipsi nos fortiter in re p. fecerimus: si quid fecimus, certe irati non fecimus. an est quicquam similius insaniae quam ira? quam bene Ennius initium dixit insaniae. color, vox, oculi, spiritus, inpotentia dictorum ac factorum quam partem habent sanitatis? quid Achille Homerico foedius, quid Agamemnone in iurgio? nam Aiacem quidem ira ad furorem mortemque perduxit. non igitur desiderat fortitudo advocatam iracundiam; satis est instructa parata armata per sese. nam isto quidem modo licet dicere utilem vinulentiam ad fortitudinem, utilem etiam dementiam, quod et insani et ebrii multa faciunt saepe vehementius. semper Aiax fortis, fortissimus tamen in furore; nam Fa/cinus fecit ma/ximum, cum Da/nais inclina/ntibus Summa/m rem perfeci/t manu. proelium restituit insaniens:
And if there is enough protection in virtue for living well, there is enough also for living happily; for there is certainly enough in virtue for us to live bravely; if bravely, then also with greatness of soul, and indeed so that we are never terrified by anything and are always unconquered. It follows that nothing is regretted, nothing lacking, nothing in the way; therefore all things flow on freely, perfectly, prosperously, and thus happily. But virtue has power enough for living bravely; therefore power enough also for living happily.
dicamus igitur utilem insaniam? Tracta definitiones fortitudinis: intelleges eam stomacho non egere. fortitudo est igitur adfectio animi legi summae in perpetiendis rebus obtemperans vel conservatio stabilis iudicii in eis rebus quae formidolosae videntur subeundis et repellendis vel scientia rerum formidolosarum contrariarumque aut omnino neglegendarum conservans earum rerum stabile iudicium vel brevius, ut Chrysippus (nam superiores definitiones erant Sphaeri, hominis in primis bene definientis, ut putant Stoici; sunt enim omnino omnes fere similes, sed declarant communis notiones alia magis alia)—quo modo igitur Chrysippus? fortitudo est inquit scientia rerum perferendarum vel adfectio animi in patiendo ac perferendo summae legi parens sine timore. quamvis licet insectemur istos, ut Carneades solebat, metuo ne soli philosophi sint. quae enim istarum definitionum non aperit notionem nostram, quam habemus omnes de fortitudine tectam atque involutam? qua aperta quis est qui aut bellatori aut imperatori aut oratori quaerat aliquid neque eos existumet sine rabie quicquam fortiter facere posse?
For just as folly, even when it has attained what it desired, never thinks it has gained enough, so wisdom is always content with what is at hand, and is never displeased with itself. Do you suppose the single consulship of Gaius Laelius was like another’s — and that too coming with a defeat (if, when a man wise and good, such as he was, is passed over in the voting, it is not rather the people that has met a defeat at the hands of a good consul than he at the hands of a good people)? But still — which would you rather, if the choice were yours: to be consul once like Laelius, or four times like Cinna?
Quid? Stoici, qui omnes insipientes insanos esse dicunt, nonne ista conligunt? remove perturbationes maxumeque iracundiam: iam videbuntur monstra dicere. nunc autem ita disserunt, sic se dicere omnes stultos insanire, ut male olere omne caenum. at non semper. commove: senties. sic iracundus non semper iratus est; lacesse: iam videbis furentem. Quid? ista bellatrix iracundia, cum domum rediit, qualis est cum uxore, cum liberis, cum familia? an tum quoque est utilis? est igitur aliquid quod perturbata mens melius possit facere quam constans? an quisquam potest sine perturbatione mentis irasci? bene igitur nostri, cum omnia essent in moribus vitia, quod nullum erat iracundia foedius, iracundos solos morosos nominaverunt.
I have no doubt what you will answer; and so I see to whom I am committing the question. I would not put this same question to just anyone; for another might perhaps answer that he prefers not only four consulships to one, but a single day of Cinna’s to whole lifetimes of many famous men. Laelius, had he so much as touched a man with his finger, would have paid the penalty; but Cinna ordered the head of his colleague, the consul Gnaeus Octavius, to be struck off, and the heads of Publius Crassus and Lucius Caesar, men of the highest nobility, whose virtue had been proved at home and in war, and of Marcus Antonius, the most eloquent of all men I ever heard, and of Gaius Caesar, in whom there seemed to me to be a model of refinement, of wit, of charm, of grace. Was he happy, then, who killed these men? To me, on the contrary, he seems wretched not only because he did these things, but also because he so conducted himself that he was free to do them — though in truth no one is free to do wrong; but we slip through an error of language, for we say a thing is permitted
Oratorem vero irasci minime decet, simulare non dedecet. an tibi irasci tum videmur, cum quid in causis acrius et vehementius dicimus? quid? cum iam rebus transactis et praeteritis orationes scribimus, num irati scribimus? ecquis hoc animadvertit? vincite! —num aut egisse umquam iratum Aesopum aut scripsisse existimas iratum Accium? aguntur ista praeclare, et ab oratore quidem melius, si modo est orator, quam ab ullo histrione, sed aguntur leniter et mente tranquilla. Libidinem vero laudare cuius est libidinis? Themistoclem mihi et Demosthenen profertis, additis Pythagoran Democritum Platonem. quid? vos studia libidinem vocatis? quae vel optimarum rerum, ut ea sunt quae profertis, sedata tamen et tranquilla esse debent. Iam aegritudinem laudare, unam rem maxime detestabilem, quorum est tandem philosophorum? at commode dixit Afranius: dum modo doleat aliquid, doleat quidlibet. dixit enim de adulescente perdito ac dissoluto, nos autem de constanti viro ac sapienti quaerimus. et quidem ipsam illam iram centurio habeat aut signifer vel ceteri, de quibus dici non necesse est, ne rhetorum aperiamus mysteria. utile est enim uti motu animi, qui uti ratione non potest. nos autem, ut testificor saepe, de sapiente quaerimus.
when it is granted to a man to do it. Which, after all, was the happier — Gaius Marius, when he shared the glory of the Cimbric victory with his colleague Catulus, almost a second Laelius (for I count this man very like him), or when, victor in the civil war and enraged, he answered the kinsmen of Catulus who pleaded with him not once but again and again: "let him die"? In this the happier was the man who obeyed that wicked command than the one who issued so criminal an order. For as it is better to receive an injury than to do one, so it was better to go a little forward to meet death already drawing near — which is what Catulus did — than to do as Marius did: to crush, by the destruction of such a man, his own six consulships, and to defile the last span of his life.
At etiam aemulari utile est, obtrectare, misereri. cur misereare potius quam feras opem, si id facere possis? an sine misericordia liberales esse non possumus? non enim suscipere ipsi aegritudines propter alios debemus, sed alios, si possumus, levare aegritudine. obtrectare vero alteri aut illa vitiosa aemulatione, quae rivalitati similis est, aemulari quid habet utilitatis, cum sit aemulantis angi alieno bono quod ipse non habeat, obtrectantis autem angi alieno bono, quod id etiam alius habeat? qui id adprobari possit, aegritudinem suscipere pro experientia, si quid habere velis? nam solum habere velle summa dementia est. Mediocritates autem malorum quis laudare recte possit?
For thirty-eight years Dionysius was tyrant of the Syracusans, having seized the lordship at the age of twenty-five. With what splendor, with what resources he held the city, and the state oppressed in slavery! And yet of this man we have received from good authorities this account: that he was in his manner of living of the utmost temperance, in the conduct of affairs a keen and industrious man, but at the same time malicious by nature and unjust; from which it must seem to all who rightly look upon the truth that he was the most wretched of men. For the very things he had set his heart on, not even then, when he believed he could do all things, did he attain.
quis enim potest, in quo libido cupiditasve sit, non libidinosus et cupidus esse? in quo ira, non iracundus? in quo angor, non anxius? in quo timor, non timidus? libidinosum igitur et iracundum et anxium et timidum censemus esse sapientem? de cuius excellentia multa quidem dici quamvis fuse lateque possunt, sed brevissime illo modo, sapientiam esse rerum divinarum et humanarum scientiam cognitionemque, quae cuiusque rei causa sit; ex quo efficitur, ut divina imitetur, humana omnia inferiora virtute ducat. in hanc tu igitur tamquam in mare, quod est ventis subiectum, perturbationem cadere tibi dixisti videri? quid est quod tantam gravitatem constantiamque perturbet? an inprovisum aliquid aut repentinum? quid potest accidere tale ei, cui nihil, quod homini evenire possit, non praemeditatum sit? nam quod aiunt nimia resecari oportere, naturalia relinqui, quid tandem potest esse naturale, quod idem nimium esse possit? sunt enim omnia ista ex errorum orta radicibus, quae evellenda et extrahenda penitus, non circumcidenda nec amputanda sunt.
For though he was born of good parents and of honorable station — though indeed this one point is handed down differently by different writers — and abounded both in the friendships of his peers and in the company of his kinsmen, and had besides, after the Greek fashion, certain young men bound to him by love, he trusted none of them, but committed the guarding of his person to men whom he had chosen as slaves out of the households of the rich, from whom he himself had stripped the name of slavery, and to certain immigrants and savage barbarians. Thus, through his unjust craving for lordship, he had in a manner shut himself up in prison. Indeed, that he might not entrust his throat to a barber, he taught his own daughters to cut hair. So in a sordid and servile craft these royal maidens, like little barber-girls, trimmed the beard and hair of their father. And yet from these very girls, when they were now grown, he took away the blade, and arranged that with glowing walnut shells they should singe off his beard and hair.
Sed quoniam suspicor te non tam de sapiente quam de te ipso quaerere—illum enim putas omni perturbatione esse liberum, te vis—, videamus, quanta sint quae a philosophia remedia morbis animorum adhibeantur. est enim quaedam medicina certe, nec tam fuit hominum generi infensa atque inimica natura, ut corporibus tot res salutaris, animis nullam invenerit; de quibus hoc etiam est merita melius, quod corporum adiumenta adhibentur extrinsecus, animorum salus inclusa in is ipsis est. sed quo maior est in eis praestantia et divinior, eo maiore indigent diligentia. itaque bene adhibita ratio cernit, quid optumum sit, neglecta multis implicatur erroribus.
And though he had two wives, Aristomache, his fellow citizen, and Doris of Locri, he would come to them by night only after spying out and searching through everything beforehand. And since he had set a broad ditch around the chamber where his bed stood, and had joined the crossing of that ditch by a little wooden bridge, he himself would swing this very bridge aside once he had shut the door of the chamber. And since he did not dare to stand on the common platforms, he was accustomed to address the assembly from a high tower.
ad te igitur mihi iam convertenda omnis oratio est; simulas enim quaerere te de sapiente, quaeris autem fortasse de te. Earum igitur perturbationum, quas exposui, variae sunt curationes. nam neque omnis aegritudo una ratione sedatur (alia est enim lugenti, alia miseranti aut invidenti adhibenda medicina); est etiam in omnibus quattuor perturbationibus illa distinctio, utrum ad universam perturbationem, quae est aspernatio rationis aut adpetitus vehementior, an ad singulas, ut ad metum lubidinem reliquas melius adhibeatur oratio, et utrum illudne non videatur aegre ferundum, ex quo suscepta sit aegritudo, an omnium rerum tollenda omnino aegritudo, ut, si quis aegre ferat se pauperem esse, idne disputes, paupertatem malum non esse, an hominem aegre ferre nihil oportere. nimirum hoc melius, ne, si forte de paupertate non persuaseris, sit aegritudini concedendum; aegritudine autem sublata propriis rationibus, quibus heri usi sumus, quodam modo etiam paupertatis malum tollitur.
And when he wished to play ball — for he did this eagerly and often — and was laying aside his tunic, he is said to have handed his sword to a young man whom he loved. At this one of his companions said in jest: "To him, at any rate, you certainly entrust your life," and the young man smiled; whereupon he ordered both to be put to death, the one because he had pointed out the way of killing him, the other because he had approved the remark by his laughter. And by that deed he was so grieved that he bore nothing more heavily in all his life; for he had killed one he had loved intensely. So the desires of men without self-mastery are pulled apart in opposite directions: when you have indulged the one, the other must be resisted.
sed omnis eius modi perturbatio animi placatione abluatur illa quidem, cum doceas nec bonum illud esse, ex quo laetitia aut libido oriatur, nec malum, ex quo aut metus aut aegritudo; verum tamen haec est certa et propria sanatio, si doceas ipsas perturbationes per se esse vitiosas nec habere quicquam aut naturale aut necessarium, ut ipsam aegritudinem leniri videmus, cum obicimus maerentibus imbecillitatem animi ecfeminati, cumque eorum gravitatem constantiamque laudamus, qui non turbulente humana patiantur. quod quidem solet eis etiam accidere, qui illa mala esse censent, ferenda tamen aequo animo arbitrantur. putat aliquis esse voluptatem bonum, alius autem pecuniam; tamen et ille ab intemperantia et hic ab avaritia avocari potest. illa autem altera ratio et oratio, quae simul et opinionem falsam tollit et aegritudinem detrahit, est ea quidem utilior, sed raro proficit neque est ad volgus adhibenda.
And yet this very tyrant passed judgment on his own happiness. For when one of his flatterers, Damocles, was recounting in conversation his forces, his power, the majesty of his rule, the abundance of his wealth, the splendor of his royal palace, and declaring that no one had ever been more fortunate, "Would you like, then, Damocles," he said, "since this life delights you, to taste it for yourself and try out my fortune?" When the man said he would gladly, Dionysius ordered him laid on a golden couch spread with a covering of the most beautiful weave, embroidered with magnificent designs, and had several sideboards decked with chased gold and silver. Then he ordered chosen boys of surpassing beauty to take their stand at the table and to wait upon him attentively, watching his every nod.
quaedam autem sunt aegritudines, quas levare illa medicina nullo modo possit, ut, si quis aegre ferat nihil in se esse virtutis, nihil animi, nihil officii, nihil honestatis, propter mala is quidem angatur, sed alia quaedam sit ad eum admovenda curatio, et talis quidem, quae possit esse omnium etiam de ceteris rebus discrepantium philosophorum. inter omnis enim convenire oportet commotiones animorum a recta ratione aversas esse vitiosas, ut, etiamsi vel mala sint illa, quae metum aegritudinemve, vel bona, quae cupiditatem laetitiamve moveant, tamen sit vitiosa ipsa commotio. constantem enim quendam volumus, sedatum, gravem, humana omnia spernentem illum esse, quem magnanimum et fortem virum dicimus. talis autem nec maerens nec timens nec cupiens nec gestiens esse quisquam potest. eorum enim haec sunt, qui eventus humanos superiores quam suos animos esse ducunt.
There were perfumes and garlands; incense was burning; the tables were piled high with the choicest delicacies. Damocles thought himself a fortunate man. In the midst of all this display Dionysius ordered a gleaming sword, fastened by a single horsehair, to be let down from the ceiling, so that it hung over the neck of this happy man. And so Damocles neither looked at those beautiful attendants, nor at the silver wrought with such art, nor reached out his hand to the table; the garlands by now were slipping from his head; at last he begged the tyrant to let him go, since he no longer wished to be happy. Does Dionysius not seem to have shown clearly enough that there is no happiness for a man over whom some terror forever hangs? Nor was it any longer open to him to return to justice, to give his citizens back their freedom and their rights; for in his youth, at an age that takes no thought, he had so entangled himself in errors and committed such crimes that he could not be safe if he once began to be sane.
Quare omnium philosophorum, ut ante dixi, una ratio est medendi, ut nihil, quale sit illud quod perturbet animum, sed de ipsa sit perturbatione dicendum. itaque primum in ipsa cupiditate, cum id solum agitur ut ea tollatur, non est quaerendum, bonum illud necne sit quod lubidinem moveat, sed lubido ipsa tollenda est, ut, sive, quod honestum est, id sit summum bonum sive voluptas sive horum utrumque coniunctum sive tria illa genera bonorum, tamen, etiamsi virtutis ipsius vehementior adpetitus sit, eadem sit omnibus ad deterrendum adhibenda oratio. continet autem omnem sedationem animi humana in conspectu posita natura; quae quo facilius expressa cernatur, explicanda est oratione communis condicio lexque vitae.
How much he longed for friendships, whose faithlessness he dreaded, he showed in the case of those two Pythagoreans: when he had accepted one of them as surety for the other’s death, and the other, to free his surety, had presented himself at the appointed hour of death, "Would," he said, "that I might be enrolled as a third friend among you!" How wretched it was for him to do without the company of friends, the fellowship of daily life, intimate conversation altogether — and this for a man learned from boyhood and schooled in the liberal arts, devoted besides to music; a writer of tragedy, too — how good a one is nothing to the point, for in this field, somehow more than in others, every man finds his own work beautiful. I have never yet known a poet (and I had a friendship with Aquinius) who did not think himself the best; that is how it stands: your work delights you, mine delights me. — But to return to Dionysius: he was deprived of all human refinement and society; he lived among runaways, among criminals, among barbarians; he counted no one his friend who was either worthy of freedom or wished to be free at all. With this man’s life — than which I can conceive nothing more foul, more wretched, more detestable — I shall not now compare the life of Plato or Archytas, learned men and plainly wise:
itaque non sine causa, cum Orestem fabulam doceret Euripides, primos tris versus revocasse dicitur Socrates: Neque ta/m terribilis u/lla fando ora/tio est, Nec fo/rs nec ira cae/litum invectu/m malum, Quod no/n natura huma/na patiendo e/cferat. est autem utilis ad persuadendum ea quae acciderint ferri et posse et oportere enumeratio eorum qui tulerunt. etsi aegritudinis sedatio et hesterna disputatione explicata est et in Consolationis libro, quem in medio—non enim sapientes eramus—maerore et dolore conscripsimus; quodque vetat Chrysippus, ad recentis quasi tumores animi remedium adhibere, id nos fecimus naturaeque vim attulimus, ut magnitudini medicinae doloris magnitudo concederet.
from the same city I shall summon up a lowly little man from his dust and drawing-board, one who lived many years later, Archimedes. When I was quaestor I tracked down his grave, unknown to the Syracusans — they denied it existed at all — hemmed in on every side and overgrown with brambles and thickets. For I held in mind certain little verses that I had been told were inscribed upon his monument, which declared that a sphere with a cylinder had been set on top of the tomb.
Sed aegritudini, de qua satis est disputatum, finitimus est metus, de quo pauca dicenda sunt. est enim metus, ut aegritudo praesentis, sic ille futuri mali. itaque non nulli aegritudinis partem quandam metum esse dicebant, alii autem metum praemolestiam appellabant, quod esset quasi dux consequentis molestiae. quibus igitur rationibus instantia feruntur, eisdem contemnuntur sequentia. nam videndum est in utrisque, ne quid humile summissum molle ecfeminatum fractum abiectumque faciamus. sed quamquam de ipsius metus inconstantia inbecillitate levitate dicendum est, tamen multum prodest ea, quae metuuntur, ipsa contemnere. itaque sive casu accidit sive consilio, percommode factum est, quod eis de rebus quae maxime metuuntur, de morte et de dolore, primo et proxumo die disputatum est. quae si probata sunt, metu magna ex parte liberati sumus. Ac de malorum opinione hactenus;
Now as I was surveying everything with my eyes — for there is a great crowd of tombs at the Agrigentine Gate — I noticed a small column standing out a little from the thickets, on which there was the figure of a sphere and a cylinder. And at once I told the Syracusans — their leading men were with me — that I thought this was the very thing I was looking for. Men were sent in with sickles; they cleared and opened up the place.
videamus nunc de bonorum, id est de laetitia et de cupiditate. mihi quidem in tota ratione ea, quae pertinet ad animi perturbationem, una res videtur causam continere, omnis eas esse in nostra potestate, omnis iudicio susceptas, omnis voluntarias. hic igitur error est eripiendus, haec detrahenda opinio atque ut in malis opinatis tolerabilia, sic in bonis sedatiora sunt efficienda ea quae magna et laetabilia ducuntur. atque hoc quidem commune malorum et bonorum, ut, si iam difficile sit persuadere nihil earum rerum, quae perturbent animum, aut in bonis aut in malis esse habendum, tamen alia ad alium motum curatio sit adhibenda aliaque ratione malevolus, alia amator, alia rursus anxius, alia timidus corrigendus.
When the way to it had been laid open, we approached the base facing us. There appeared the epigram, with the latter halves of the little verses eaten away — about half of it remaining. So the most renowned city of Greece, once indeed the most learned as well, would have known nothing of the monument of its one most brilliant citizen, had it not learned of it from a man of Arpinum. But let the discourse return to where it strayed: who is there of all men, provided he has any dealings at all with the Muses — that is, with culture and learning — who would not rather be this mathematician than that tyrant? If we ask after the manner and conduct of their lives, the one man’s mind was nourished by the working out and investigation of reasonings, with the delight of his own ingenuity, which is the single sweetest food of the soul; the other’s, by slaughter and injustice, with fear by day and by night. Come now, set beside him Democritus, Pythagoras, Anaxagoras: what kingdoms, what riches will you prefer to their pursuits and delights?
atque erat facile sequentem eam rationem, quae maxume probatur de bonis et malis, negare umquam laetitia adfici posse insipientem, quod nihil umquam haberet boni; sed loquimur nunc more communi. sint sane ista bona, quae putantur, honores divitiae voluptates cetera, tamen in eis ipsis potiundis exultans gestiensque laetitia turpis est, ut, si ridere concessum sit, vituperetur tamen cachinnatio. eodem enim vitio est ecfusio animi in laetitia quo in dolore contractio, eademque levitate cupiditas est in appetendo qua laetitia in fruendo, et ut nimis adflicti molestia, sic nimis elati laetitia iure iudicantur leves; et, cum invidere aegritudinis sit, malis autem alienis voluptatem capere laetitiae, utrumque immanitate et feritate quadam proponenda castigari solet; atque ut cavere decet, timere non decet, sic gaudere decet, laetari non decet, quoniam docendi causa a gaudio laetitiam distinguimus;
For that part which is best in a man — there it is that the best thing you seek must necessarily reside. And what is there in a man better than a keen and sound mind? It is the good of this mind, then, that we must enjoy, if we wish to be happy; but the good of the mind is virtue; therefore the happy life must necessarily be contained in virtue. From this come all things that are beautiful, honorable, and noble — as I said above, but the same point seems worth stating a little more fully — and they are full of joys. And since it is clear that the happy life arises from perpetual and abundant joys, it follows that it arises from the honorable.
illud iam supra diximus, contractionem animi recte fieri numquam posse, elationem posse. aliter enim Naevianus ille gaudet Hector: Lae/tus sum lauda/ri me abs te, pa/ter, a laudato/ viro, aliter ille apud Trabeam: Le/na deleni/ta argento nu/tum observabi/t meum, Qui/d velim, quid stu/deam. adveniens di/gito impellam ia/nuam, Fo/res patebunt. de i/nproviso Chry/sis ubi me aspe/xerit, A/lacris ob via/m mihi veniet co/mplexum exopta/ns meum, Mi/hi se dedet. quam haec pulchra putet, ipse iam dicet: Fo/rtunam ipsam antei/bo fortuni/s meis.
But that we may not merely touch in words upon what we wish to demonstrate, certain considerations must be set out, so to speak, to move us, which may turn us more readily toward recognition and understanding. Let us, then, take a certain outstanding man, accomplished in the finest arts, and let us fashion him for a moment in our mind and thought. First, he must be of exceptional natural gift; for virtue does not readily keep company with sluggish minds. Next, he must have an eager zeal for tracking down the truth. From this there will arise that threefold yield of the mind: one part set in the knowledge of things and the unfolding of nature, a second in the marking out of what is to be sought and what shunned and in the principle of living well, a third in judging what is consequent upon each thing and what contradicts it — and in this lies all the subtlety of reasoning together with the truth of judgment.
haec laetitia quam turpis sit, satis est diligenter attendentem penitus videre. Et ut turpes sunt, qui ecferunt se laetitia tum cum fruuntur Veneriis voluptatibus, sic flagitiosi, qui eas inflammato animo concupiscunt. totus vero iste, qui volgo appellatur amor—nec hercule invenio, quo nomine alio possit appellari—, tantae levitatis est, ut nihil videam quod putem conferendum. quem Caecilius deum qui non summum putet, aut stultum aut rerum esse imperitum existumat, Cui i/n manu sit, quem e/sse demente/m velit, Quem sa/pere, quem sana/ri, quem in morbum i/nici, Quem co/ntra amari, quem e/xpeti, quem arce/ssier. o praeclaram emendatricem vitae poëticam, quae amo-
With what joy, then, must the mind of the wise man be filled, dwelling and passing its nights among these concerns! When he has discerned the motions and revolutions of the whole universe, and seen the countless stars fixed in the sky moving in concert with its own motion, set in their appointed seats; and the seven others each holding their own courses, far apart from one another in their height or their lowness, whose wandering motions yet mark out the fixed and certain spans of their orbits — surely the sight of these things urged on those men of old and prompted them to seek further. From this was born the search into beginnings, and into seeds, as it were, from which all things rose, were generated, and took shape; and what is the origin of each kind, whether lifeless or living, whether mute or speaking; what its life, what its death, and what the succession and change from one thing into another; whence the earth, and by what weights it is balanced, in what hollows the seas are held, by what force of gravity all things are carried so as ever to seek the middle place of the world, which in a round body is also the lowest.
rem flagitii et levitatis auctorem in concilio deorum conlocandum putet! de comoedia loquor, quae, si haec flagitia non probaremus, nulla esset omnino; quid ait ex tragoedia princeps ille Argonautarum? Tu/ me amoris ma/gis quam honoris se/rvavisti gra/tia. quid ergo? hic amor Medeae quanta miseriarum excitavit incendia! atque ea tamen apud alium poëtam patri dicere audet se coniugem habuisse illum, Amor quem dederat, qui plus pollet potiorque est patre.
For the mind that handles these matters and reflects on them night and day, there arises that self-knowledge enjoined by the god at Delphi: that the mind should recognize itself and feel itself joined with the divine mind, from which it is filled with an insatiable joy. For the very contemplation of the power and nature of the gods kindles a zeal to imitate their eternity, and the mind does not think itself confined within the brevity of life, when it sees the causes of things linked one to another and bound by necessity — causes which, though they flow from everlasting time into everlasting, are yet governed by reason and mind.
Sed poëtas ludere sinamus, quorum fabulis in hoc flagitio versari ipsum videmus Iovem: ad magistros virtutis philosophos veniamus, qui amorem negant stupri esse et in eo litigant cum Epicuro non multum, ut opinio mea fert, mentiente. quis est enim iste amor amicitiae? cur neque deformem adulescentem quisquam amat neque formosum senem? mihi quidem haec in Graecorum gymnasiis nata consuetudo videtur, in quibus isti liberi et concessi sunt amores. bene ergo Ennius: Fla/giti princi/pium est nudare i/nter civis co/rpora. qui ut sint, quod fieri posse video, pudici, solliciti tamen et anxii sunt, eoque magis, quod se ipsi continent et coërcent.
Gazing upon these things and looking up at them — or rather, surveying every part and region of them — with what tranquility of mind, in turn, does he consider human affairs and things nearer at hand! From this comes that knowledge of virtue; the kinds and parts of the virtues come into flower; it is discovered what nature looks to as the ultimate end among goods and the last among evils, to what the duties are to be referred, what plan of living out one’s life is to be chosen. And from the investigation of these and like matters there comes about, above all else, that very thing which is the business of this discussion: that virtue is self-sufficient for living happily.
atque, ut muliebris amores omittam, quibus maiorem licentiam natura concessit, quis aut de Ganymedi raptu dubitat, quid poëtae velint, aut non intellegit, quid apud Euripidem et loquatur et cupiat Laius? quid denique homines doctissimi et summi poë- tae de se ipsis et carminibus edunt et cantibus? fortis vir in sua re p. cognitus quae de iuvenum amore scribit Alcaeus! nam Anacreontis quidem tota poësis est amatoria. maxume vero omnium flagrasse amore Reginum Ibycum apparet ex scriptis. Atque horum omnium lubidinosos esse amores videmus: philosophi sumus exorti, et auctore quidem nostro Platone, quem non iniuria Dicaearchus accusat, qui amori auctoritatem tribueremus.
There follows the third part, which runs and pours through every part of wisdom — which defines a thing, distinguishes its kinds, joins what follows, draws conclusions to their completion, and judges true from false: the method and science of reasoning. From it arises both the highest usefulness for weighing matters and, above all, a delight that is liberal and worthy of wisdom. But these are the works of leisure. Let this same wise man pass over to the defense of the commonwealth. What could be more excellent than he, when in his prudence he discerns what is to the advantage of the citizens, in his justice diverts nothing of it to his own house, and makes use of all his other so many and so various virtues? Add the harvest of friendships, in which the learned find both counsel for the whole of life, harmonious and almost of one breath, and the highest pleasure in their daily intercourse and shared life. What, in the end, does this life want, to be happier? Fortune herself must yield to a life crammed with so many and so great joys. But if to rejoice in such goods of the mind — that is, in the virtues — is to be happy, and if all the wise enjoy these joys to the full, then it must be admitted that they are all happy. — Even on the rack and under torture?
Stoici vero et sapientem amaturum esse dicunt et amorem ipsum conatum amicitiae faciendae ex pulchritudinis specie definiunt. qui si quis est in rerum natura sine sollicitudine, sine desiderio, sine cura, sine suspirio, sit sane; vacat enim omni libidine; haec autem de libidine oratio est. sin autem est aliquis amor, ut est certe, qui nihil absit aut non multum ab insania, qualis in Leucadia est: si quidem sit quisquam deus, cui ego sim curae —
Or did you suppose I was speaking of him as lying on violets and roses? Or shall it be permitted to Epicurus — who merely put on the mask of a philosopher and inscribed the name upon himself — to say (a thing that, as the matter stands, he says to my applause) that there is no time for the wise man, even if he be burned, racked, cut, when he cannot cry out, "How utterly I scorn it!" — and this above all when he defines every evil by pain and every good by pleasure, mocks these honorable and base things of ours, and says that we are taken up with words and pour out empty sounds, that nothing concerns us except what is felt in the body as smooth or rough? To this man, then, differing little, as I said, from the judgment of beasts, it shall be permitted to forget himself, and at one moment to despise fortune — though his every good and evil lies in fortune’s power — and at the next to call himself happy in the height of torment and torture, though he has laid it down that pain is not only the highest evil but the only one?
at id erat deis omnibus curandum, quem ad modum hic frueretur voluptate amatoria! heu me infelicem! —nihil verius. probe et ille: sanusne es, qui temere lamentare? sic insanus videtur etiam suis. at quas tragoedias efficit! Te, Apo/llo sancte, fe/r opem, teque, amni/potens Neptune, i/nvoco, Vosque a/deo, Venti! mundum totum se ad amorem suum sublevandum conversurum putat, Venerem unam excludit ut iniquam: nam quid ego te appellem, Venus? eam prae lubidine negat curare quicquam: quasi vero ipse non propter lubidinem tanta flagitia et faciat et dicat.
Nor indeed has he furnished himself with those remedies for enduring pain — firmness of mind, shame at what is base, the practice and habit of suffering, the precepts of fortitude, a manly hardness — but he says he finds rest in a single thing, the recollection of past pleasures; as if a man scorched by heat, when he cannot easily bear the violence of it, should wish to recall that once, in our own country of Arpinum, he was plunged about by cool rivers. For I do not see how past pleasures can soothe
—sic igitur adfecto haec adhibenda curatio est, ut et illud quod cupiat ostendatur quam leve, quam contemnendum, quam nihili sit omnino, quam facile vel aliunde vel alio modo perfici vel omnino neglegi possit; abducendus etiam est non numquam ad alia studia sollicitudines curas negotia, loci denique mutatione tamquam aegroti non convalescentes saepe curandus est;
present evils. — But since the man who says this declares the wise man always happy — a thing he has no right to say, if he wished to be consistent with himself — what then must they do who hold that nothing is to be sought, nothing to be counted among goods, that lacks honor? On my authority, then, let even the Peripatetics and the old Academics at last leave off their stammering and dare to say openly and in a clear voice that the happy life will go down into the bull of Phalaris.
etiam novo quidam amore veterem amorem tamquam clavo clavum eiciendum putant; maxume autem admonendus est, quantus sit furor amoris. omnibus enim ex animi perturbationibus est profecto nulla vehementior, ut, si iam ipsa illa accusare nolis, stupra dico et corruptelas et adulteria, incesta denique, quorum omnium accusabilis est turpitudo,—sed ut haec omittas, perturbatio ipsa mentis in amore foeda per se est.
For let there be three kinds of goods — to withdraw at last from the Stoic snares, which I see I have employed more than is my habit — let there be those kinds of goods, then, by all means, provided the goods of the body and the external ones lie low upon the ground and are called goods only because they are to be taken up, while those divine goods of the soul spread themselves far and wide and reach the very sky; so that the man who has attained them — why should I call him merely happy and not the happiest of all? But will the wise man dread pain? For it is pain above all that fights against this verdict. Against the death of ourselves and of those dear to us, against distress and the other disturbances of the soul, we seem armed and ready enough by the discussions of the earlier days; pain seems the fiercest adversary of virtue. It brandishes its blazing torches; it threatens to wear down courage, greatness of soul, and endurance.
nam ut illa praeteream, quae sunt furoris, haec ipsa per sese quam habent levitatem, quae videntur esse mediocria, Iniu/riae Suspi/ciones i/nimicitiae indu/tiae Bellu/m pax rursum! ince/rta haec si tu po/stules Ratio/ne certa fa/cere, nihilo plu/s agas, Quam si/ des operam, ut cu/m ratione insa/nias. haec inconstantia mutabilitasque mentis quem non ipsa pravitate deterreat? est etiam illud, quod in omni perturbatione dicitur, demonstrandum, nullam esse nisi opinabilem, nisi iudicio susceptam, nisi voluntariam. etenim si naturalis amor esset, et amarent omnes et semper amarent et idem amarent, neque alium pudor, alium cogitatio, alium satietas deterreret. Ira vero, quae quam diu perturbat animum, dubitationem insaniae non habet, cuius inpulsu existit etiam inter fratres tale iurgium:
Will virtue, then, give way to this? Will the happy life of the wise and steadfast man yield to it? How shameful, good gods! Spartan boys do not so much as groan when they are torn by the pain of the lash. We ourselves saw at Lacedaemon bands of young men contending with unbelievable fierceness — with fists, heels, nails, even teeth at the last — sooner letting themselves be beaten senseless than confess themselves beaten. What barbarian land is wilder or rougher than India? Yet even among that people, those first who are held to be wise pass their lives naked, and endure the snows of the Caucasus and the violence of winter without pain; and when they have laid themselves against the flame, they are scorched without a groan.
Qui/s homo te exsupera/vit usquam ge/ntium impu/dentia? Quis au/tem malitia/ te?— nosti, quae secuntur; alternis enim versibus intorquentur inter fratres gravissimae contumeliae, ut facile appareat Atrei filios esse, eius qui meditatur poenam in fratrem novam: Maio/r mihi moles, ma/ius miscendu/mst malum, Qui illi/us acerbum co/r contundam et co/mprimam. quo igitur haec erumpit moles? audi Thyestem: Ipsus hortatu/r me frater, u/t meos mali/s miser Ma/nderem nato/s— eorum viscera apponit. quid est enim quo non progrediatur eodem ira, quo furor? itaque iratos proprie dicimus exisse de potestate, id est de consilio, de ratione, de mente; horum enim potestas in totum animum esse debet.
The women of India, moreover, when one of them has lost her husband, come into a contest and a trial: which of them he loved most — for several wives are usually married to a single man. She who is the victor, attended joyfully by her own people, is laid upon the pyre together with her husband; the one defeated departs in grief. Custom would never overcome nature, for nature is forever unconquered; but we have infected our souls with shadows, with luxuries, with idleness, sloth, and indolence; we have softened them, lulled by opinions and by bad habit. Who does not know the custom of the Egyptians? Their minds, steeped in the errors of perversity, would undergo any torture sooner than do violence to an ibis, an asp, a cat, a dog, or a crocodile; and even if they have done one of these creatures some harm unawares, they refuse no punishment for it.
His aut subtrahendi sunt ei, in quos impetum conantur facere, dum se ipsi conligant, —quid est autem se ipsum colligere nisi dissupatas animi partis rursum in suum locum cogere?—aut rogandi orandique sunt, ut, si quam habent ulciscendi vim, differant in tempus aliud, dum defervescat ira. defervescere autem certe significat ardorem animi invita ratione excitatum. ex quo illud laudatur Archytae, qui cum vilico factus esset iratior, quo te modo inquit accepissem, nisi iratus essem!
I speak of men. What of beasts? Do they not endure cold, hunger, their roving courses and wanderings over mountains and through forests? Do they not fight for their young so fiercely that they take wounds upon themselves, flinching from no assault, no blow? I pass over what men endure and suffer who are greedy for office for ambition’s sake, eager for praise for the sake of glory, kindled by love for the sake of desire. Life is full of such examples.
Ubi sunt ergo isti, qui iracundiam utilem dicunt —potest utilis esse insania?—aut naturalem? an quicquam est secundum naturam, quod fit repugnante ratione? quo modo autem, si naturalis esset ira, aut alius alio magis iracundus esset, aut finem haberet prius quam esset ulta, ulciscendi lubido, aut quemquam paeniteret, quod fecisset per iram? ut Alexandrum regem videmus, qui cum interemisset Clitum familiarem suum, vix a se manus abstinuit; tanta vis fuit paenitendi. quibus cognitis quis est qui dubitet quin hic quoque motus animi sit totus opinabilis ac voluntarius? Quis enim dubitarit quin aegrotationes animi, qualis est avaritia, gloriae cupiditas, ex eo, quod magni aestumetur ea res ex qua animus aegrotat, oriantur? unde intellegi debet perturbationem quoque omnem esse in opinione.
But let our discourse keep its measure and return to the point from which it turned aside. The happy life, I say, will give itself over to the torments, and having followed justice, temperance, and above all courage, greatness of soul, and endurance, when it has seen the face of the torturer it will halt — and with all the virtues setting out toward the torment without any terror of soul, it will stand its ground outside the doors, as I said before, and on the threshold of the prison. For what could be more loathsome than the happy life, what more disfigured, left alone, cut off from its fairest company? Yet that can in no way come to pass; for the virtues cannot hold together without the happy life, nor the happy life without the virtues.
Et si fidentia, id est firma animi confisio, scientia quaedam est et opinio gravis non temere adsentientis, metus quoque est diffidentia expectati et impendentis mali, et si spes est expectatio boni, mali expectationem esse necesse est metum. ut igitur metus, sic reliquae perturbationes sunt in malo. ergo ut constantia scientiae, sic perturbatio erroris est. Qui autem natura dicuntur iracundi aut misericordes aut invidi aut tale quid, ei sunt constituti quasi mala valetudine animi, sanabiles tamen, ut Socrates dicitur: cum multa in conventu vitia conlegisset in eum Zopyrus, qui se naturam cuiusque ex forma perspicere profitebatur, derisus est a ceteris, qui illa in Socrate vitia non agnoscerent, ab ipso autem Socrate sublevatus, cum illa sibi sic nata, sed ratione a se deiecta diceret.
And so they will not allow it to turn its back, but will carry it off with them to whatever pain and torment they themselves are led. For it is the wise man’s own mark to do nothing he could ever repent of, nothing against his will, but all things splendidly, steadfastly, with weight and with honor; to expect nothing as though it were certain to come, to wonder at nothing when it has come, as though it had befallen unforeseen and strange; to refer all things to his own judgment, to stand by his own decisions. What could be happier than this, I for one cannot conceive.
ergo ut optuma quisque valetudine adfectus potest videri ut natura ad aliquem morbum proclivior, sic animus alius ad alia vitia propensior. qui autem non natura, sed culpa vitiosi esse dicuntur, eorum vitia constant e falsis opinionibus rerum bonarum et malarum, ut sit alius ad alios motus perturbationesque proclivior. inveteratio autem, ut in corporibus, aegrius depellitur quam perturbatio, citiusque repentinus oculorum tumor sanatur quam diuturna lippitudo depellitur.
The Stoics’ conclusion, indeed, is easy. Since they have judged that the end of goods is to be in harmony with nature and to live in accord with it, and since this lies within the wise man’s power not by duty alone but by capacity, it must follow that the man in whose power the highest good lies has the happy life in his power as well. Thus the wise man’s life is always happy. — There you have what I think can be said most stoutly about the happy life, and, as matters now stand, unless you bring something better, most truly as well. — For my part I can bring nothing better; but I would gladly win this from you, if it is no trouble: since no bonds tie you to any one fixed school, and you draw from all of them whatever most moves you with the look of truth — what you seemed a little while ago to be urging upon the Peripatetics and the Old Academy, that without any holding back they should dare to say freely that the wise are always happiest, that is what I should like to hear, how you think it consistent for them to say it. For you said much against that verdict, and much that was deduced by the reasoning of the Stoics.
Sed cognita iam causa perturbationum, quae omnes oriuntur ex iudiciis opinionum et voluntatibus, sit iam huius disputationis modus. scire autem nos oportet cognitis, quoad possunt ab homine cognosci, bonorum et malorum finibus nihil a philosophia posse aut maius aut utilius optari quam haec, quae a nobis hoc quadriduo disputata sunt. morte enim contempta et dolore ad patiendum levato adiunximus sedationem aegritudinis, qua nullum homini malum maius est. etsi enim omnis animi perturbatio gravis est nec multum differt ab amentia, tamen ita ceteros, cum sunt in aliqua perturbatione aut metus aut laetitiae aut cupiditatis, commotos modo et perturbatos dicere solemus, at eos, qui se aegritudini dediderunt, miseros adflictos aerumnosos calamitosos.
Let us use, then, the liberty that we alone in philosophy are allowed to use — we whose discourse pronounces no judgment of its own, but ranges over every side, so that it may be judged by others through itself, with no man’s authority attached. And since you seem to wish this — that whatever the verdict of the disagreeing philosophers may be about the ends, virtue should nevertheless have safeguard enough for the happy life — which is what we are told Carneades used to argue; but he argued it against the Stoics, whom he was always most eager to refute, and against whose doctrine his genius had taken fire. I, however, will conduct it in peace — for if the Stoics have set down the end of goods rightly, the matter is settled: the wise man must always be happy —
itaque non fortuito factum videtur, sed a te ratione propositum, ut separatim de aegritudine et de ceteris perturbationibus disputaremus; in ea est enim fons miseriarum et caput. sed et aegritudinis et reliquorum animi morborum una sanatio est, omnis opinabilis esse et voluntarios ea reque suscipi, quod ita rectum esse videatur. hunc errorem quasi radicem malorum omnium stirpitus philosophia se extracturam pollicetur.
but let us examine each of the remaining verdicts one by one, if it can be done, to see whether this splendid decree, so to speak, of the happy life can be made to agree with the verdicts and doctrines of all. Now these, as I suppose, are the verdicts about the ends that have been held and defended. First, four simple ones: nothing is good but the honorable, as the Stoics hold; nothing is good but pleasure, as Epicurus holds; nothing is good but freedom from pain, as Hieronymus holds; nothing is good but to enjoy the first goods of nature, either all of them or the greatest, as Carneades argued against the Stoics.
demus igitur nos huic excolendos patiamurque nos sanari. his enim malis insidentibus non modo beati, sed ne sani quidem esse possumus. aut igitur negemus quicquam ratione confici, cum contra nihil sine ratione recte fieri possit, aut, cum philosophia ex rationum conlatione constet, ab ea, si et boni et beati volumus esse, omnia adiumenta et auxilia petamus bene beateque vivendi.
This fifth day, Brutus, will bring the Tusculan discussions to their close — the day on which we argued the very question that you, of all of them, most approve. For I have come to see, both from the book you wrote to me with the greatest care and from many conversations of yours, how thoroughly the view pleases you that virtue is sufficient of itself for the happy life. And though this is hard to prove, on account of fortune’s torments, so various and so many, it is nonetheless the kind of thing at which we must labor, that it may be proved the more readily. For among all the matters that philosophy handles, there is nothing that is spoken of with greater weight or grandeur.
Quintus hic dies, Brute, finem faciet Tusculanarum disputationum, quo die est a nobis ea de re, quam tu ex omnibus maxime probas, disputatum. placere enim tibi admodum sensi et ex eo libro, quem ad me accuratissime scripsisti, et ex multis sermonibus tuis virtutem ad beate vivendum se ipsa esse contentam. quod etsi difficile est probatu propter tam varia et tam multa tormenta fortunae, tale tamen est, ut elaborandum sit, quo facilius probetur. nihil est enim omnium quae in philosophia tractantur, quod gravius magnificentiusque dicatur.
For since this was the cause that drove the first men to apply themselves to the study of philosophy — that, setting all else aside, they devoted themselves wholly to the search for the best condition of life — surely it was in the hope of living happily that they laid out such care and effort upon that study. And if virtue was discovered and brought to perfection by them, and if there is in virtue protection enough for living happily, who is there who would not judge that the work of philosophizing was nobly both undertaken by them and taken up by us? But if virtue, subject to changes various and uncertain, is the handmaid of fortune, and has not strength enough to keep itself secure, then I fear that we ought to lean toward the hope of living happily not so much by confidence in virtue as by the offering of prayers.
nam cum ea causa impulerit eos qui primi se ad philosophiae studium contulerunt, ut omnibus rebus posthabitis totos se in optumo vitae statu exquirendo conlocarent, profecto spe beate vivendi tantam in eo studio curam operamque posuerunt. quodsi ab is inventa et perfecta virtus est, et si praesidii ad beate vivendum in virtute satis est, quis est qui non praeclare et ab illis positam et a nobis susceptam operam philosophandi arbitretur? sin autem virtus subiecta sub varios incertosque casus famula fortunae est nec tantarum virium est, ut se ipsa tueatur, vereor ne non tam virtutis fiducia nitendum nobis ad spem beate vivendi quam vota facienda videantur.
For my own part, when I consider with myself those reverses by which fortune has so violently exercised me, I begin at times to lose faith in this view, and to dread the weakness and frailty of the human race. For I fear that nature, having given us bodies that are feeble and joined to them diseases beyond cure and pains beyond endurance, may have given us minds as well — minds at once attuned to the pains of the body and, on their own account, entangled in their own anguish and distress.
equidem eos casus, in quibus me fortuna vehementer exercuit, mecum ipse considerans huic incipio sententiae diffidere interdum et humani generis imbecillitatem fragilitatemque extimescere. vereor enim ne natura, cum corpora nobis infirma dedisset isque et morbos insanabilis et dolores intolerabilis adiunxisset, animos quoque dederit et corporum doloribus congruentis et separatim suis angoribus et molestiis implicatos.
But here I rebuke myself, because from the softness of others, and perhaps of my own, I form my estimate of virtue’s strength, rather than from virtue itself. For virtue — if indeed there is any such thing as virtue, a doubt your uncle, Brutus, swept away — holds beneath itself all that can befall a man; looking down upon these, it scorns the accidents of mortal life, and, free of all fault, it judges that nothing concerns it but itself. We, on the other hand, magnify by fear every adversity as it comes, and by grief every present trouble, and choose to condemn the nature of things rather than our own error.
sed in hoc me ipse castigo, quod ex aliorum et ex nostra fortasse mollitia, non ex ipsa virtute de virtutis robore existumo. illa enim, si modo est ulla virtus, quam dubitationem avunculus tuus, Brute, sustulit, omnia, quae cadere in hominem possunt, subter se habet eaque despiciens casus contemnit humanos culpaque omni carens praeter se ipsam nihil censet ad se pertinere. nos autem omnia adversa cum venientia metu augentes, tum maerore praesentia rerum naturam quam errorem nostrum damnare malumus.
But the correction of this fault, and of the rest of our vices and sins, must all be sought from philosophy. Into her bosom, from the earliest season of our life, our own will and zeal drove us; and now, in these gravest reverses, tossed by a great tempest, we have fled for refuge to the same harbor from which we set out. O philosophy, guide of life! O searcher-out of virtue and expeller of vices! What, not only could we, but what could the whole life of man have been without you? You gave birth to cities; you called together into the fellowship of life men once scattered; you joined them to one another first by dwellings, then by marriages, then by the sharing of letters and of speech; you were the inventor of laws, you the teacher of morals and of order. To you we flee; from you we ask aid; to you we entrust ourselves — as before in great part, so now wholly and entirely. And one day well spent, by your precepts, is to be preferred to an eternity of wrongdoing.
Sed et huius culpae et ceterorum vitiorum peccatorumque nostrorum omnis a philosophia petenda correctio est. cuius in sinum cum a primis temporibus aetatis nostra voluntas studiumque nos compulisset, his gravissimis casibus in eundem portum, ex quo eramus egressi, magna iactati tempestate confugimus. o vitae philosophia dux, o virtutis indagatrix expultrixque vitiorum! quid non modo nos, sed omnino vita hominum sine te esse potuisset? tu urbis peperisti, tu dissipatos homines in societatem vitae convocasti, tu eos inter se primo domiciliis, deinde coniugiis, tum litterarum et vocum communione iunxisti, tu inventrix legum, tu magistra morum et disciplinae fuisti; ad te confugimus, a te opem petimus, tibi nos, ut antea magna ex parte, sic nunc penitus totosque tradimus. est autem unus dies bene et ex praeceptis tuis actus peccanti inmortalitati anteponendus.
Whose resources, then, should we use rather than yours — you who have lavished tranquillity of life upon us and taken away the terror of death? And yet philosophy, so far from being praised in proportion to what she has deserved of the life of man, is by most men neglected and by many even reviled. Does anyone dare to revile the parent of life, and to stain himself with this parricide, and to be so impiously ungrateful as to accuse her whom he ought to revere, even if he could not grasp her? But this error, I think, and this darkness spread over the minds of the unlearned, comes of their being unable to look so far back, and of their not believing that the men by whom the life of man was first set in order were philosophers.
cuius igitur potius opibus utamur quam tuis, quae et vitae tranquillitatem largita nobis es et terrorem mortis sustulisti? Ac philosophia quidem tantum abest ut proinde ac de hominum est vita merita laudetur, ut a plerisque neglecta a multis etiam vituperetur. vituperare quisquam vitae parentem et hoc parricidio se inquinare audet et tam impie ingratus esse, ut eam accuset, quam vereri deberet, etiamsi minus percipere potuisset? sed, ut opinor, hic error et haec indoctorum animis offusa caligo est, quod tam longe retro respicere non possunt nec eos, a quibus vita hominum instructa primis sit, fuisse philosophos arbitrantur.
Though we see the thing itself to be most ancient, we confess all the same that the name is recent. For wisdom itself — who can deny that it is ancient, not only in fact but even in name? It is the name that won, among the ancients, this most beautiful title by its knowledge of things divine and human, and of the beginnings and causes of each thing. And so those seven who by the Greeks were called sophoi, and by our people were both held and named the wise; and many ages before them Lycurgus, in whose time Homer too is recorded to have lived, before this city was founded; and as far back as the age of heroes, Ulysses and Nestor — these, we are told, both were and were held to be wise.
Quam rem antiquissimam cum videamus, nomen tamen esse confitemur recens. nam sapientiam quidem ipsam quis negare potest non modo re esse antiquam, verum etiam nomine? quae divinarum humanarumque rerum, tum initiorum causarumque cuiusque rei cognitione hoc pulcherrimum nomen apud antiquos adsequebatur. itaque et illos septem, qui a Graecis sofoi/, sapientes a nostris et habebantur et nominabantur, et multis ante saeculis Lycurgum, cuius temporibus Homerus etiam fuisse ante hanc urbem conditam traditur, et iam heroicis aetatibus Ulixem et Nestorem accepimus et fuisse et habitos esse sapientis.
Nor would Atlas have been said to bear up the sky, nor Prometheus to be fastened to the Caucasus, nor Cepheus set among the stars with his wife, his son-in-law, and his daughter, had not their divine knowledge of the heavens carried over their names into the error of fable. From these, in succession, all who set their zeal upon the contemplation of things were both held and named the wise; and that name of theirs ran on down to the age of Pythagoras. He, as Heraclides of Pontus writes — a pupil of Plato, and a man of the first rank in learning — is said to have come to Phlius, and there to have discoursed on certain matters with Leon, the chief man of the Phliasians, learnedly and at length. And when Leon, marvelling at his genius and eloquence, asked him in what art above all he placed his confidence, Pythagoras replied that he knew no art at all, but was a philosopher. Leon, struck by the novelty of the word, asked who these philosophers might be, and what was the difference between them and the rest of mankind;
nec vero Atlans sustinere caelum nec Prometheus adfixus Caucaso nec stellatus Cepheus cum uxore genero filia traderetur, nisi caelestium divina cognitio nomen eorum ad errorem fabulae traduxisset. a quibus ducti deinceps omnes, qui in rerum contemplatione studia ponebant, sapientes et habebantur et nominabantur, idque eorum nomen usque ad Pythagorae manavit aetatem. quem, ut scribit auditor Platonis Ponticus Heraclides, vir doctus in primis, Phliuntem ferunt venisse, eumque cum Leonte, principe Phliasiorum, docte et copiose disseruisse quaedam. cuius ingenium et eloquentiam cum admiratus esset Leon, quaesivisse ex eo, qua maxime arte confideret; at illum: artem quidem se scire nullam, sed esse philosophum. admiratum Leontem novitatem nominis quaesivisse, quinam essent philosophi, et quid inter eos et reliquos interesset;
and Pythagoras answered that the life of man seemed to him like that festival which was held with the most splendid display of games and the gathering of all Greece. For there, just as some men sought glory and the renown of a crown by training their bodies, while others were drawn by the profit and gain of buying and selling, but there was a certain kind of men — and this the most freeborn of all — who sought neither applause nor profit, but came for the sake of seeing, and looked on closely at what was being done, and in what manner: so too we, as if we had set out from some city to a kind of crowded festival, had come into this life from another life and nature; and some of us are slaves to glory, some to money, while there are a rare few who, holding all else as nothing, study closely the nature of things. These men, Pythagoras said, he called students of wisdom — that is, philosophers; and just as there it was most worthy of a free man to look on, acquiring nothing for himself, so in life the contemplation and knowledge of things far surpasses all other pursuits.
Pythagoram autem respondisse similem sibi videri vitam hominum et mercatum eum, qui haberetur maxumo ludorum apparatu totius Graeciae celebritate; nam ut illic alii corporibus exercitatis gloriam et nobilitatem coronae peterent, alii emendi aut vendendi quaestu et lucro ducerentur, esset autem quoddam genus eorum, idque vel maxime ingenuum, qui nec plausum nec lucrum quaererent, sed visendi causa venirent studioseque perspicerent, quid ageretur et quo modo, item nos quasi in mercatus quandam celebritatem ex urbe aliqua sic in hanc vitam ex alia vita et natura profectos alios gloriae servire, alios pecuniae, raros esse quosdam, qui ceteris omnibus pro nihilo habitis rerum naturam studiose intuerentur; hos se appellare sapientiae studiosos—id est enim philosophos—; et ut illic liberalissimum esset spectare nihil sibi adquirentem, sic in vita longe omnibus studiis contemplationem rerum cognitionemque praestare.
Nor indeed was Pythagoras only the inventor of the name, but an enlarger as well of the things themselves. After this conversation at Phlius he came into Italy, and adorned that Greece which has been called Great, both in private and in public, with the most excellent institutions and arts. Of his teaching there may, perhaps, be another time for speaking. But from the ancient philosophy down to Socrates — who had listened to Archelaus, the pupil of Anaxagoras — it was numbers and motions that were handled, and the question whence all things arise and into what they fall back; and those men inquired zealously into the magnitudes of the stars, their intervals and courses, and all things of the heavens. Socrates, however, was the first to call philosophy down from the sky, to set it in cities, to bring it even into homes, and to compel it to inquire about life and morals, about things good and evil.
Nec vero Pythagoras nominis solum inventor, sed rerum etiam ipsarum amplificator fuit. qui cum post hunc Phliasium sermonem in Italiam venisset, exornavit eam Graeciam, quae magna dicta est, et privatim et publice praestantissumis et institutis et artibus. cuius de disciplina aliud tempus fuerit fortasse dicendi. sed ab antiqua philosophia usque ad Socratem, qui Archelaum, Anaxagorae discipulum, audierat, numeri motusque tractabantur, et unde omnia orerentur quove reciderent, studioseque ab is siderum magnitudines intervalla cursus anquirebantur et cuncta caelestia. Socrates autem primus philosophiam devocavit e caelo et in urbibus conlocavit et in domus etiam introduxit et coëgit de vita et moribus rebusque bonis et malis quaerere.
His many-sided manner of arguing, the variety of his subjects, and the greatness of his genius, consecrated in the memory and writings of Plato, brought into being several kinds of dissenting philosophers; and of these we ourselves have followed above all the one which we judged Socrates to have used: that we should conceal our own opinion, free others from error, and in every discussion seek out what was most like the truth. This method, since Carneades held to it most acutely and most copiously, I have often elsewhere, and lately at Tusculum, made it my practice to argue after that fashion. And the discourse of the four days I have already sent you, written out in the earlier books; but on the fifth day, when we had taken our seats in the same place, this was set down as the matter we should argue:
cuius multiplex ratio disputandi rerumque varietas et ingenii magnitudo Platonis memoria et litteris consecrata plura genera effecit dissentientium philosophorum, e quibus nos id potissimum consecuti sumus, quo Socratem usum arbitrabamur, ut nostram ipsi sententiam tegeremus, errore alios levaremus et in omni disputatione, quid esset simillimum veri, quaereremus. quem morem cum Carneades acutissime copiosissimeque tenuisset, fecimus et alias saepe et nuper in Tusculano, ut ad eam consuetudinem disputaremus. et quadridui quidem sermonem superioribus ad te perscriptum libris misimus, quinto autem die cum eodem in loco consedissemus, sic est propositum, de quo disputaremus:
— It does not seem to me that virtue can be sufficient for the happy life. — But it does, by Hercules, seem so to my friend Brutus, whose judgment, with your leave I shall say it, I rank far above yours. — I do not doubt it; nor is the question now how much you love him, but this, what the thing is which I have said seems true to me, and which I want you to argue. — You deny, then, that virtue can be sufficient for the happy life? — I deny it utterly. — What? For living rightly, honorably, laudably — in short, for living well — is there protection enough in virtue? — Certainly there is. — Can you, then, either not call wretched a man who lives badly, or deny that a man you admit lives well lives happily? — Why should I not? For even amid torments one can live rightly, honorably, laudably, and therefore well — provided only you understand what I now mean by "well." For I mean: steadfastly, with weight, wisely, bravely.
Non mihi videtur ad beate vivendum satis posse virtutem. At hercule Bruto meo videtur, cuius ego iudicium, pace tua dixerim, longe antepono tuo. Non dubito, nec id nunc agitur, tu illum quantum ames, sed hoc, quod mihi dixi videri, quale sit, de quo a te disputari volo. Nempe negas ad beate vivendum satis posse virtutem? Prorsus nego. Quid? ad recte honeste laudabiliter, postremo ad bene vivendum satisne est praesidi in virtute? Certe satis. Potes igitur aut, qui male vivat, non eum miserum dicere aut, quem bene fateare, eum negare beate vivere? Quidni possim? nam etiam in tormentis recte honeste laudabiliter et ob eam rem bene vivi potest, dum modo intellegas, quid nunc dicam bene. dico enim constanter graviter sapienter fortiter.
These things are flung even upon the rack, to which the happy life does not aspire. — What then? Is the happy life, I ask you, the one thing left outside the door and threshold of the prison, when steadfastness, weight, courage, wisdom, and the rest of the virtues are dragged off to the torturer and refuse neither punishment nor pain? — You, if you mean to do anything, must search out something new; these things do not move me in the least — not only because they are commonplace, but much more because, just as certain light wines have no strength in water, so these doctrines of the Stoics please more when tasted than when drunk. So this chorus of virtues, set upon the rack, sets images before our eyes of the most ample dignity, so that the happy life seems likely to press on toward them at a run, and not to suffer them to be deserted by it;
haec etiam in eculeum coiciuntur, quo vita non adspirat beata. Quid igitur? solane beata vita, quaeso, relinquitur extra ostium limenque carceris, cum constantia gravitas fortitudo sapientia reliquaeque virtutes rapiantur ad tortorem nullumque recusent nec supplicium nec dolorem? Tu, si quid es facturus, nova aliqua conquiras oportet; ista me minime movent, non solum quia pervulgata sunt, sed multo magis, quia, tamquam levia quaedam vina nihil valent in aqua, sic Stoicorum ista magis gustata quam potata delectant. velut iste chorus virtutum in eculeum impositus imagines constituit ante oculos cum amplissima dignitate, ut ad eas cursim perrectura nec eas beata vita a se desertas passura videatur;
but once you have drawn your mind away from that picture and those images of the virtues to the thing itself and the truth, this is left bare: whether a man can be happy as long as he is being tortured. This, then, is what we must now ask; but do not fear that the virtues will protest and complain that they have been abandoned by the happy life. For if no virtue is without prudence, prudence itself sees this — that not all good men are also happy; and it recalls many things about Marcus Atilius, Quintus Caepio, Manius Aquilius, and the happy life, if it please us to use images rather than the things themselves, prudence itself holds back as it tries to mount the rack, and denies that it has anything in common with pain and torment.
cum autem animum ab ista pictura imaginibusque virtutum ad rem veritatemque traduxeris, hoc nudum relinquitur, possitne quis beatus esse, quam diu torqueatur. quam ob rem hoc nunc quaeramus; virtutes autem noli vereri ne expostulent et querantur se a beata vita esse relictas. si enim nulla virtus prudentia vacat, prudentia ipsa hoc videt, non omnis bonos esse etiam beatos, multaque de M. Atilio Q. Caepione M’. Aquilio recordatur, beatamque vitam, si imaginibus potius uti quam rebus ipsis placet, conantem ire in eculeum retinet ipsa prudentia negatque ei cum dolore et cruciatu quicquam esse commune.
— I am content to let you proceed in that way, though it is unfair of you to prescribe to me how you would have me argue. But I ask: are we to think that something was accomplished on the earlier days, or nothing? — Accomplished, surely, and a good deal. — And yet, if that is so, this question is already as good as won and brought almost to its conclusion. — How so, pray? — Because turbulent motions and agitations of the mind, roused and carried up by reckless impulse, repelling all reason, leave no part for the happy life. For who can fear death or pain — the one often present, the other always hanging over us — and not be wretched? What, moreover, if the same man, as commonly happens, fears poverty, disgrace, infamy; if he fears weakness, blindness; if, in the end, he fears that which has befallen not single men only but often whole peoples once mighty — slavery?
Facile patior te isto modo agere, etsi iniquum est praescribere mihi te, quem ad modum a me disputari velis. sed quaero, utrum aliquid actum superioribus diebus an nihil arbitremur. Actum vero, et aliquantum quidem. Atqui, si ita est, profligata iam haec et paene ad exitum adducta quaestio est. Quo tandem modo? Quia motus turbulenti iactationesque animorum incitatae et impetu inconsiderato elatae rationem omnem repellentes vitae beatae nullam partem relinquunt. quis enim potest mortem aut dolorem metuens, quorum alterum saepe adest, alterum semper impendet, esse non miser? quid, si idem, quod plerumque fit, paupertatem ignominiam infamiam timet, si debilitatem caecitatem, si denique, quod non singulis hominibus, sed potentibus populis saepe contigit, servitutem?
Can anyone be happy while he fears such things? And what of the man who not only fears them as things to come, but actually bears and endures them when present — add to these exile, mourning, the loss of children — the man who, broken by these blows, is crushed by grief: can he, after all, be anything but utterly wretched? And what of this? The man whom we see inflamed and raging with his lusts, reaching madly after everything with an appetite that nothing can fill, and the more abundantly he drinks in pleasures from every side, the more heavily and burningly he thirsts — would you not be right to call him utterly wretched? And what of the man lifted up by frivolity, exulting in empty joy and capering without cause — is he not all the more wretched the happier he thinks himself? Therefore, just as these men are wretched, so on the other side those are happy whom no fears terrify, whom no griefs eat away, whom no lusts goad, whom no idle exulting joys melt with their enervating pleasures. As the calm of the sea is recognized when not the slightest breath of air stirs the waves, so the soul’s quiet and settled state is discerned when there is no disturbance by which it can be moved. And if there is a man who counts the force of fortune, and everything human that can befall anyone, as bearable — so that neither fear nor anguish can touch him — and if this same man craves nothing, is carried away by no empty pleasure of the soul, what reason is there why he should not be happy?
potest ea timens esse quisquam beatus? quid, qui non modo ea futura timet, verum etiam fert sustinetque praesentia—adde eodem exilia luctus orbitates: qui rebus his fractus aegritudine eliditur, potest tandem esse non miserrimus? quid vero? illum, quem libidinibus inflammatum et furentem videmus, omnia rabide adpetentem cum inexplebili cupiditate, quoque affluentius voluptates undique hauriat, eo gravius ardentiusque sitientem, nonne recte miserrimum dixeris? quid? elatus ille levitate inanique laetitia exultans et temere gestiens nonne tanto miserior, quanto sibi videtur beatior? ergo ut hi miseri, sic contra illi beati, quos nulli metus terrent, nullae aegritudines exedunt, nullae libidines incitant, nullae futtiles laetitiae exultantes languidis liquefaciunt voluptatibus. ut maris igitur tranquillitas intellegitur nulla ne minima quidem aura fluctus commovente, sic animi quietus et placatus status cernitur, cum perturbatio nulla est, qua moveri queat. quodsi est qui vim fortunae, qui omnia humana, quae cuique accidere possunt, tolerabilia ducat, ex quo nec timor eum nec angor attingat, idemque si nihil concupiscat, nulla ecferatur animi inani voluptate, quid est cur is non beatus sit?
And if these things are brought about by virtue, what reason is there why virtue itself, of itself, should not make men happy? — Well, the one cannot be denied: that those who fear nothing, are troubled by nothing, crave nothing, are carried away by no ungoverned joy, are happy; and so I grant you that. But the other is no longer an open question. For it was established in our earlier discussions that the wise man is free of every disturbance of the soul. — Then surely the matter is settled;
et si haec virtute efficiuntur, quid est cur virtus ipsa per se non efficiat beatos? Atqui alterum dici non potest, quin i, qui nihil metuant, nihil angantur, nihil concupiscant, nulla impotenti laetitia ecferantur, beati sint, itaque id tibi concedo; alterum autem iam integrum non est. superioribus enim disputationibus effectum est vacare omni animi perturbatione sapientem. Nimirum igitur confecta res est;
for the inquiry seems to have reached its conclusion. — Nearly so, indeed. — And yet that is the way of the mathematicians, not of the philosophers. For when geometers wish to teach something, if anything bearing on the matter belongs among the things they have taught before, they take it as granted and proven, and explain only that about which nothing has been written before; whereas philosophers, whatever subject they have in hand, gather into it everything that bears upon it, even if it has been argued elsewhere. Were it not so, why would a Stoic, if the question were raised whether virtue can suffice for the happy life, say a great deal? It would be enough for him to answer that he had shown before that nothing is good except what is honorable, and that, this being proved, it follows that the happy life is content with virtue; and just as this follows from that, so the other follows from this — that, if the happy life is content with virtue, then, unless a thing is honorable, nothing else is good.
videtur enim ad exitum venisse quaestio. Propemodum id quidem. Verum tamen mathematicorum iste mos est, non est philosophorum. nam geometrae cum aliquid docere volunt, si quid ad eam rem pertinet eorum quae ante docuerunt, id sumunt pro concesso et probato, illud modo explicant, de quo ante nihil scriptum est; philosophi quamcumque rem habent in manibus, in eam quae conveniunt, congerunt omnia, etsi alio loco disputata sunt. quod ni ita esset, cur Stoicus, si esset quaesitum, satisne ad beate vivendum virtus posset, multa diceret? cui satis esset respondere se ante docuisse nihil bonum esse nisi quod honestum esset, hoc probato consequens esse beatam vitam virtute esse contentam, et quo modo hoc sit consequens illi, sic illud huic, ut, si beata vita virtute contenta sit, nisi honestum quod sit, nihil aliud sit bonum.
But still they do not proceed in that way; for there are separate books both on the honorable and on the highest good, and although it follows from the latter that there is power enough in virtue for living happily, none the less they treat this point separately. For each subject must be handled with its own proper arguments and reminders, a subject so great above all. For do not suppose that any voice more illustrious has been uttered in philosophy, or that any of philosophy’s promises is richer or greater. For what does it profess? Good gods! That it will bring it about, for the man who has obeyed its laws, that he be forever armed against fortune, that he hold within himself every safeguard of living well and happily — that, in short, he be forever happy.
sed tamen non agunt sic; nam et de honesto et de summo bono separatim libri sunt, et cum ex eo efficiatur satis magnam in virtute ad beate vivendum esse vim, nihilo minus hoc agunt separatim. propriis enim et suis argumentis et admonitionibus tractanda quaeque res est, tanta praesertim. cave enim putes ullam in philosophia vocem emissam clariorem ullumve esse philosophiae promissum uberius aut maius. Nam quid profitetur? o dii boni! perfecturam se, qui legibus suis paruisset, ut esset contra fortunam semper armatus, ut omnia praesidia haberet in se bene beateque vivendi, ut esset semper denique beatus.
But I shall see what it can accomplish; in the meantime I value this very thing greatly, that it makes the promise. For Xerxes, indeed, glutted with all the rewards and gifts of fortune, not content with his cavalry, not with his foot soldiers, not with his multitude of ships, not with his boundless weight of gold, offered a prize to whoever should discover a new pleasure — with which pleasure itself he was not content either, for desire will never find an end; I could wish that we might draw out by a prize someone who would bring us something by which we might believe this more firmly.
sed videro, quid efficiat; tantisper hoc ipsum magni aestumo, quod pollicetur. nam Xerxes quidem refertus omnibus praemiis donisque fortunae, non equitatu, non pedestribus copiis, non navium multitudine, non infinito pondere auri contentus praemium proposuit, qui invenisset novam voluptatem —qua ipsa non fuit contentus; neque enim umquam finem inveniet libido—, nos vellem praemio elicere possemus, qui nobis aliquid attulisset, quo hoc firmius crederemus.
— I could wish that too; but I have one small point I would press. For I agree that, of the propositions you have set down, the one follows from the other: that just as, if only what is honorable is good, it follows that the happy life is brought about by virtue, so, if the happy life lies in virtue, nothing is good but virtue. But your friend Brutus, on the authority of Aristo and Antiochus, does not hold this; for he thinks that there is some good besides virtue. — What then?
Vellem id quidem, sed habeo paulum, quod requiram. ego enim adsentior eorum quae posuisti alterum alteri consequens esse, ut, quem ad modum, si, quod honestum sit, id solum sit bonum, sequatur vitam beatam virtute confici, sic, si vita beata in virtute sit, nihil esse nisi virtutem bonum. sed Brutus tuus auctore Aristo et Antiocho non sentit hoc; putat enim, etiamsi sit bonum aliquod praeter virtutem. Quid igitur?
Do you suppose I shall speak against Brutus? — Just as you see fit; for to set limits beforehand is not my place. — What, then, is consistent with each view, we shall consider elsewhere. For on that matter I had a disagreement both with Antiochus often and with Aristo recently, when as commander I lodged with him at Athens. For it did not seem to me that anyone could be happy while he was in the midst of evils — and the wise man could be in the midst of evils, if there were any evils of the body or of fortune. These things were said — which Antiochus too wrote in several places — that virtue itself, of itself, can bring about the happy life, but not the happiest; further, that most things take their name from the greater part, even if some part should be missing — as strength, as health, as riches, as honor, as glory, which are reckoned by their kind, not by their number; and likewise that the happy life, even if it should be lame in some part, none the less holds its name from the much greater part.
contra Brutumne me dicturum putas? Tu vero, ut videtur; nam praefinire non est meum. Quid cuique igitur consentaneum sit, alio loco. nam ista mihi et cum Antiocho saepe et cum Aristo nuper, cum Athenis imperator apud eum deversarer, dissensio fuit. mihi enim non videbatur quisquam esse beatus posse, cum in malis esset; in malis autem sapientem esse posse, si essent ulla corporis aut fortunae mala. dicebantur haec, quae scripsit etiam Antiochus locis pluribus, virtutem ipsam per se beatam vitam efficere posse neque tamen beatissimam; deinde ex maiore parte plerasque res nominari, etiamsi quae pars abesset, ut vires, ut valetudinem, ut divitias, ut honorem, ut gloriam, quae genere, non numero cernerentur; item beatam vitam, etiamsi ex aliqua parte clauderet, tamen ex multo maiore parte optinere nomen suum.
It is not so necessary now to thresh these matters out, although they seem to me said not very consistently. For both, in the case of the man who is happy, I do not see what he should want in order to be happier — for if there is something he lacks, he is not even happy at all — and, as for their saying that each thing is named and regarded from the greater part, there is a place where this holds in that way; but when they say there are three kinds of evils, and a man is pressed by all the evils of two of those kinds — so that everything in his fortune is adverse, and his body is wholly overwhelmed and worn out with pains — shall we say that this man falls just a little short of the happy life, not to say the happiest?
haec nunc enucleare non ita necesse est, quamquam non constantissime dici mihi videntur. nam et, qui beatus est, non intellego quid requirat, ut sit beatior—si est enim quod desit, ne beatus quidem est—, et quod ex maiore parte unam quamque rem appellari spectarique dicunt, est ubi id isto modo valeat; cum vero tria genera malorum esse dicant, qui duorum generum malis omnibus urgeatur, ut omnia advorsa sint in fortuna, omnibus oppressum corpus et confectum doloribus, huic paulumne ad beatam vitam deesse dicemus, non modo ad beatissimam?
This is the very thing that Theophrastus could not maintain. For when he had laid it down that lashings, tortures, torments, the overthrows of one’s country, exiles, the loss of children have great force toward living badly and wretchedly, he did not dare to speak loftily and largely, since he felt humbly and meanly. How well he felt is not the question — consistently, at any rate, beyond doubt. And so it is not my habit to find fault with what follows, when you have granted the premises. But this man, the most elegant and most learned of all philosophers, is not greatly faulted when he says there are three kinds of goods; he is harried, however, by everyone, above all in that book which he wrote on the happy life, in which he argues at length why a man who is tortured, who is racked, cannot be happy. In it he is also thought to say that the happy life does not mount the wheel — that being a certain kind of torture among the Greeks. He nowhere says that at all, in fact, but what he does say comes to the same thing.
Hoc illud est, quod Theophrastus sustinere non potuit. nam cum statuisset verbera, tormenta, cruciatus, patriae eversiones, exilia, orbitates magnam vim habere ad male misereque vivendum, non est ausus elate et ample loqui, cum humiliter demisseque sentiret. quam bene, non quaeritur, constanter quidem certe. itaque mihi placere non solet consequentia reprehendere, cum prima concesseris. hic autem elegantissimus omnium philosophorum et eruditissimus non magnopere reprehenditur, cum tria genera dicit bonorum, vexatur autem ab omnibus primum in eo libro quem scripsit de vita beata, in quo multa disputat, quam ob rem is, qui torqueatur qui crucietur, beatus esse non possit. in eo etiam putatur dicere in rotam— id est genus quoddam tormenti apud Graecos —beatam vitam non escendere. non usquam id quidem dicit omnino, sed quae dicit, idem valent.
Can I, then, who have granted that bodily pains are among evils, that the shipwrecks of fortune are among evils, be angry with him for saying that not all good men are happy, when those things which he reckons among evils can fall upon all good men? This same Theophrastus is harried in both the books and the schools of all the philosophers, because in his Callisthenes he praised that maxim: Fortune, not wisdom, rules our life. They say that nothing more spineless was ever uttered by any philosopher. Rightly so, indeed; but I do not see that anything more consistent could have been said. For if there are so many goods in the body, so many outside the body in chance and fortune, is it not consistent that fortune — which is the mistress of all things both external and pertaining to the body — should have more power than counsel?
possum igitur, cui concesserim in malis esse dolores corporis, in malis naufragia fortunae, huic suscensere dicenti non omnis bonos esse beatos, cum in omnis bonos ea, quae ille in malis numerat, cadere possint? vexatur idem Theophrastus et libris et scholis omnium philosophorum, quod in Callisthene suo laudarit illam sententiam: Vita/m regit fortu/na, non sapie/ntia. negant ab ullo philosopho quicquam dictum esse languidius. recte id quidem, sed nihil intellego dici potuisse constantius. si enim tot sunt in corpore bona, tot extra corpus in casu atque fortuna, nonne consentaneum est plus fortunam, quae domina rerum sit et externarum et ad corpus pertinentium, quam consilium valere?
Or do we prefer to imitate Epicurus? Who often says many fine things; for how consistently and coherently he speaks with himself does not trouble him. He praises a frugal way of life. The remark of a philosopher, indeed — but only if a Socrates or an Antisthenes said it, not the man who declared pleasure to be the end of goods. He denies that anyone can live pleasantly unless he also lives honorably, wisely, and justly. Nothing weightier, nothing worthier of philosophy — were it not that he refers this very honorable, wise, and just living to pleasure. What is better than: that fortune intrudes but little upon the wise man? But does he say this — he who, after declaring pain to be not only the greatest evil but the only evil, can be overwhelmed in his whole body by the sharpest pains at the very moment when he most boasts against fortune? The same thing Metrodorus put in even better words:
An malumus Epicurum imitari? qui multa praeclare saepe dicit; quam enim sibi constanter convenienterque dicat, non laborat. laudat tenuem victum. philosophi id quidem, sed si Socrates aut Antisthenes diceret, non is qui finem bonorum voluptatem esse dixerit. negat quemquam iucunde posse vivere, nisi idem honeste sapienter iusteque vivat. nihil gravius, nihil philosophia dignius, nisi idem hoc ipsum honeste sapienter iuste ad voluptatem referret. Quid melius quam: fortunam exiguam intervenire sapienti? sed hoc isne dicit, qui, cum dolorem non modo maxumum malum, sed solum malum etiam dixerit, toto corpore opprimi possit doloribus acerrumis tum, cum maxime contra fortunam glorietur? quod idem melioribus etiam verbis Metrodorus:
I have forestalled you, he says, Fortune, and laid hold of you, and blocked up all your approaches, so that you cannot reach me. Splendid — if Aristo of Chios or the Stoic Zeno had said it, men who counted nothing evil except what was base; but you, Metrodorus, who lodged every good in the entrails and the marrow, and defined the highest good as bounded by a sound condition of the body and the assured hope of its continuance — you have blocked up the approaches of Fortune? How so? For of that very good you can be stripped at any moment. And yet by such talk the inexperienced are caught, and on account of maxims of this kind the crowd that follows these men is large;
occupavi te inquit, Fortuna, atque cepi omnisque aditus tuos interclusi, ut ad me adspirare non posses. praeclare, si Aristo Chius aut si Stoicus Zenon diceret, qui, nisi quod turpe esset, nihil malum duceret; tu vero, Metrodore, qui omne bonum in visceribus medullisque condideris et definieris summum bonum firma corporis adfectione explorataque eius spe contineri, Fortunae aditus interclusisti? quo modo? isto enim bono iam exspoliari potes. Atqui his capiuntur imperiti, et propter huius modi sententias istorum hominum est multitudo;
but it is the mark of one who argues acutely to see, not what each man says, but what each man ought to say. As, for instance, in the very position which we have taken up in this discussion, we hold that all good men are always happy. Whom I call good men is plain; for those equipped and adorned with all the virtues we call now wise men, now good men. Let us see who are to be called happy.
acute autem disputantis illud est, non quid quisque dicat, sed quid cuique dicendum sit, videre. velut in ea ipsa sententia, quam in hac disputatione suscepimus, omnis bonos semper beatos volumus esse. quos dicam bonos, perspicuum est; omnibus enim virtutibus instructos et ornatos tum sapientis, tum viros bonos dicimus. videamus, qui dicendi sint beati.
For my part, I judge them to be those who are among goods with no evil joined to them; nor is any other notion attached to this word, when we say "happy," than the full assemblage of goods, with all evils set apart. This virtue cannot attain, if there is any good besides itself. For there will be present a certain throng of evils, if we count those things evils: poverty, obscurity, low standing, loneliness, the loss of one’s own, grievous bodily pains, ruined health, infirmity, blindness, the destruction of one’s country, exile, slavery at the last. Amid these so many and so great evils — and yet more can befall — the wise man can find himself; for these chance brings on, and chance can run upon the wise man. But if these are evils, who can guarantee that the wise man will always be happy, when he may be in the midst of them all at one and the same time?
equidem eos existimo, qui sint in bonis nullo adiuncto malo; neque ulla alia huic verbo, cum beatum dicimus, subiecta notio est nisi secretis malis omnibus cumulata bonorum complexio. hanc assequi virtus, si quicquam praeter ipsam boni est, non potest. aderit enim malorum, si mala illa ducimus, turba quaedam: paupertas, ignobilitas, humilitas, solitudo, amissio suorum, graves dolores corporis, perdita valetudo, debilitas, caecitas, interitus patriae, exilium, servitus denique. in his tot et tantis—atque etiam plura possunt accidere—potest esse sapiens; nam haec casus importat, qui in sapientem potest incurrere. at si ea mala sunt, quis potest praestare semper sapientem beatum fore, cum vel in omnibus is uno tempore esse possit?
I do not, then, easily grant — neither to my own Brutus, nor to our common masters, nor to those ancients, Aristotle, Speusippus, Xenocrates, Polemo — that, while they count among evils the things I enumerated above, they should yet say that the wise man is always happy. If this distinction delights them, splendid and beautiful and most worthy of Pythagoras, Socrates, and Plato, let them bring their minds to despise those things by whose splendor they are caught — strength, health, beauty, riches, honors, resources — and to count as nothing the things contrary to these: then they will be able to declare with the clearest voice that they are terrified neither by the onset of fortune, nor by the opinion of the crowd, nor by pain, nor by poverty, and that everything for them is lodged within themselves, and that there is nothing outside their own power which they reckon among goods.
non igitur facile concedo neque Bruto meo neque communibus magistris nec veteribus illis, Aristoteli Speusippo Xenocrati Polemoni, ut, cum ea quae supra enumeravi in malis numerent, idem dicant semper beatum esse sapientem. quos si titulus hic delectat insignis et pulcher, Pythagora Socrate Platone dignissimus, inducant animum illa, quorum splendore capiuntur, vires valetudinem pulchritudinem divitias honores opes contemnere eaque, quae is contraria sunt, pro nihilo ducere: tum poterunt clarissima voce profiteri se neque fortunae impetu nec multitudinis opinione nec dolore nec paupertate terreri, omniaque sibi in sese esse posita, nec esse quicquam extra suam potestatem, quod ducant in bonis.
To say these things now — which belong to some great and lofty man — and at the same time to reckon among evils and goods what the crowd reckons there, can in no way be allowed. Stirred by that glory Epicurus comes forward; to him too, if you please, the wise man seems always happy. He is captivated by the dignity of this opinion; but he would never say it, if he listened to himself. For what is there less consistent than that the very man who says that pain is either the highest or the only evil should also hold that the wise man will say, even while he is racked with pain, "How sweet this is!"? Philosophers, then, are not to be judged from single utterances, but from their continuity and consistency.
nunc et haec loqui, quae sunt magni cuiusdam et alti viri, et eadem, quae vulgus, in malis et bonis numerare concedi nullo modo potest. qua gloria commotus Epicurus exoritur; cui etiam, si dis placet, videtur semper sapiens beatus. hic dignitate huius sententiae capitur, sed numquam id diceret, si ipse se audiret. quid est enim quod minus conveniat, quam ut is, qui vel summum vel solum malum dolorem esse dicat, idem censeat quam hoc suave est! tum, cum dolore crucietur, dicturum esse sapientem? non igitur ex singulis vocibus philosophi spectandi sunt, sed ex perpetuitate atque constantia.
You bring me to agree with you. But see that your own consistency, too, is not found wanting. — How so? — Because I lately read your fourth book on the ends of good and evil; in it you seemed to me, in arguing against Cato, to wish to show this — which for my part I do approve — that between Zeno and the Peripatetics there is nothing at issue but a novelty of terms. And if that is so, what reason is there why, if it is consistent with Zeno’s account that there should be force enough in virtue for living happily, the same should not be open to the Peripatetics to say? For the matter, I think, is what ought to be looked at, not the words.
Adducis me, ut tibi adsentiar. sed tua quoque vide ne desideretur constantia. Quonam modo? Quia legi tuum nuper quartum de finibus; in eo mihi videbare contra Catonem disserens hoc velle ostendere—quod mihi quidem probatur —inter Zenonem et Peripateticos nihil praeter verborum novitatem interesse. quod si ita est, quid est causae quin, si Zenonis rationi consentaneum sit satis magnam vim in virtute esse ad beate vivendum, liceat idem Peripateticis dicere? rem enim opinor spectari oportere, non verba.
You deal with me by sealed documents, calling to witness what I once said or wrote. Do that with others, who debate under imposed rules; we live from day to day. Whatever has struck our minds with probability, that we say; and so we alone are free. Yet since we spoke a little earlier about consistency, I do not think the question to be asked here is whether it is true — what was Zeno’s view, and his pupil Aristo’s, that the only good is the honorable — but whether, if it were so, it would then be consistent to rest this whole business of living happily in virtue alone.
Tu quidem tabellis obsignatis agis mecum et testificaris, quid dixerim aliquando aut scripserim. cum aliis isto modo, qui legibus impositis disputant: nos in diem vivimus; quodcumque nostros animos probabilitate percussit, id dicimus, itaque soli sumus liberi. verum tamen, quoniam de constantia paulo ante diximus, non ego hoc loco id quaerendum puto, verumne sit, quod Zenoni placuerit quodque eius auditori Aristoni, bonum esse solum, quod honestum esset, sed si ita esset, tum fueritne consentaneum, ut totum hoc beate vivere in una virtute poneret.
So let us grant Brutus this much, by all means — that the wise man is always happy. How far this is consistent with himself, let him see to it; as for the glory of this opinion, who is worthier of it than that man? Yet let us hold to our point: that he is also supremely happy. And though Zeno of Citium, a kind of newcomer and obscure artificer of words, seems to have insinuated himself into the ancient philosophy, the weight of this opinion may be traced back to the authority of Plato, in whom this manner of speaking is often employed — that nothing is called good except virtue. So in the Gorgias Socrates, when he had been asked whether he did not think Archelaus the son of Perdiccas, who was then held the most fortunate of men, a happy man, replied, "I do not know;
quare demus hoc sane Bruto, ut sit beatus semper sapiens—quam sibi conveniat, ipse viderit; gloria quidem huius sententiae quis est illo viro dignior?—, nos tamen teneamus, ut sit idem beatissimus. Et si Zeno Citieus, advena quidam et ignobilis verborum opifex, insinuasse se in antiquam philosophiam videtur, huius sententiae gravitas a Platonis auctoritate repetatur, apud quem saepe haec oratio usurpata est, ut nihil praeter virtutem diceretur bonum. velut in Gorgia Socrates, cum esset ex eo quaesitum, Archelaum Perdiccae filium, qui tum fortunatissimus haberetur, nonne beatum putaret, haud scio inquit;
for I have never talked with him." — Is that so? Can you not know it any other way? — In no way. — Then you cannot say even of the great king of the Persians whether he is happy? — How could I, when I do not know how learned he is, how good a man? — What? Do you think the happy life consists in that? — Just so, entirely; I judge the good to be happy, the wicked wretched. — Archelaus, then, is wretched? — Certainly, if he is unjust.
’numquam enim cum eo conlocutus sum.—ain tu? an aliter id scire non potes?—nullo modo.—tu igitur ne de Persarum quidem rege magno potes dicere, beatusne sit? —an ego possim, cum ignorem, quam sit doctus, quam vir bonus?—quid? tu in eo sitam vitam beatam putas?—ita prorsus existimo, bonos beatos, improbos miseros.—miser ergo Archelaus?—certe, si iniustus.’
Does he not seem here to rest the whole happy life in virtue alone? And what of this — how does the same man speak in the funeral oration? "For the man to whom all things that bear on living happily depend on himself, and are not left hanging on the good or ill chance of others, nor forced to drift with another’s fortunes — for him the way of living best has been provided. He it is who is moderate, he who is brave, he who is wise; he it is who, when goods come and when they go — children above all, with the rest of his comforts — will yield and obey that old precept: for he will never rejoice too much nor grieve too much, because he sets all his hope of himself always in himself." From Plato, then, as from a kind of holy and august spring, all our discourse will flow. From where, then, can we more rightly begin than from our common parent, nature?
videturne omnem hic beatam vitam in una virtute ponere? Quid vero? in Epitaphio quo modo idem? nam cui viro inquit ex se ipso apta sunt omnia, quae ad beate vivendum ferunt, nec suspensa aliorum aut bono casu aut contrario pendere ex alterius eventis et errare coguntur, huic optume vivendi ratio comparata est. hic est ille moderatus, hic fortis, hic sapiens, hic et nascentibus et cadentibus cum reliquis commodis, tum maxime liberis parebit et oboediet praecepto illi veteri: neque enim laetabitur umquam nec maerebit nimis, quod semper in se ipso omnem spem reponet sui. ex hoc igitur Platonis quasi quodam sancto augustoque fonte nostra omnis manabit oratio. Unde igitur ordiri rectius possumus quam a communi parente natura?
Nature willed that whatever she has brought forth — not only the animal, but also that which has so sprung from the earth as to be held up by its own roots — should be perfect, each thing in its own kind. And so trees and vines, and the lowlier things that cannot lift themselves higher from the ground — some are forever green, others, stripped bare in winter, put out leaves when the spring has warmed them; and there is nothing that does not so thrive, by a certain inner motion and by the seeds shut up in each, that it pours forth either flowers or fruits or berries; and all things, in all things, so far as lies in them, are perfect when no force stands in the way.
quae, quicquid genuit, non modo animal, sed etiam quod ita ortum esset e terra, ut stirpibus suis niteretur, in suo quidque genere perfectum esse voluit. itaque et arbores et vites et ea, quae sunt humiliora neque se tollere a terra altius possunt, alia semper virent, alia hieme nudata verno tempore tepefacta frondescunt, neque est ullum quod non ita vigeat interiore quodam motu et suis in quoque seminibus inclusis, ut aut flores aut fruges fundat aut bacas, omniaque in omnibus, quantum in ipsis sit, nulla vi impediente perfecta sint.
But the force of nature herself can be discerned even more easily in the beasts, because to them sense has been given by nature. For some beasts nature willed to be swimmers and dwellers in the waters; others, winged, to enjoy the free sky; some to be crawlers, some walkers; and of these themselves, some to range alone, some to gather in herds; some to be savage, others tame; some to be hidden away and covered by the earth. And each of them, keeping to its own office, since it cannot cross over into the life of an unlike creature, abides in the law of nature. And just as to the beasts something distinct was given to each by nature, which each retains as its own and does not depart from, so to man something far more excellent was given — though only those things ought to be called excellent that admit of some comparison. The human mind, plucked from the divine intelligence, can be compared with nothing else but God himself, if it is right to say so.
facilius vero etiam in bestiis, quod is sensus a natura est datus, vis ipsius naturae perspici potest. namque alias bestias nantis aquarum incolas esse voluit, alias volucres caelo frui libero, serpentis quasdam, quasdam esse gradientis, earum ipsarum partim solivagas, partim congregatas, inmanis alias, quasdam autem cicures, non nullas abditas terraque tectas. atque earum quaeque suum tenens munus, cum in disparis animantis vitam transire non possit, manet in lege naturae. et ut bestiis aliud alii praecipui a natura datum est, quod suum quaeque retinet nec discedit ab eo, sic homini multo quiddam praestantius; etsi praestantia debent ea dici, quae habent aliquam comparationem, humanus autem animus decerptus ex mente divina cum alio nullo nisi cum ipso deo, si hoc fas est dictu, comparari potest.
If, then, this mind has been cultivated, and if its keen edge has been so tended that it is not blinded by errors, it becomes perfect intelligence — that is, completed reason — which is the same as virtue. And if everything is happy that lacks nothing, and that is filled out and brought to fullness in its own kind, and if this is the property of virtue, then surely all who possess virtue are happy. And here I agree with Brutus — that is, with Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, Polemo. But to me they seem also supremely happy.
hic igitur si est excultus et si eius acies ita curata est, ut ne caecaretur erroribus, fit perfecta mens, id est absoluta ratio, quod est idem virtus. et si omne beatum est, cui nihil deest, et quod in suo genere expletum atque cumulatum est, idque virtutis est proprium, certe omnes virtutis compotes beati sunt. Et hoc quidem mihi cum Bruto convenit, id est cum Aristotele Xenocrate Speusippo Polemone. sed mihi videntur etiam beatissimi.
For what is lacking for living happily to the man who trusts in his own goods? Or how can one who distrusts them be happy? And distrust them he must, who divides goods into three kinds. For how will he be able to trust in the firmness of his body or the stability of fortune? Yet without a good that is stable and fixed and lasting, no one can be happy. What, then, of theirs is of that sort? So that the saying of the Laconian seems to me to fall upon these men — who, to a certain merchant boasting that he had sent out many ships to every coast of the sea, said, "That fortune, hung upon ropes, is not greatly to be desired." Is there any doubt that nothing is to be counted among the things by which the happy life is filled out, if it can be lost? For nothing of those things in which the happy life consists ought to wither, nothing to be quenched, nothing to fall away. For whoever fears to lose any of them cannot be happy.
quid enim deest ad beate vivendum ei, qui confidit suis bonis? aut, qui diffidit, beatus esse qui potest? at diffidat necesse est, qui bona dividit tripertito. qui enim poterit aut corporis firmitate aut fortunae stabilitate confidere? atqui nisi stabili et fixo et permanente bono beatus esse nemo potest. quid ergo eius modi istorum est? ut mihi Laconis illud dictum in hos cadere videatur, qui glorianti cuidam mercatori, quod multas navis in omnem oram maritimam demisisset, non sane optabilis quidem ista inquit rudentibus apta fortuna. an dubium est quin nihil sit habendum in eo genere, quo vita beata compleatur, si id possit amitti? nihil enim interarescere, nihil extingui, nihil cadere debet eorum, in quibus vita beata consistit. nam qui timebit ne quid ex is deperdat, beatus esse non poterit.
For we want the man who is happy to be safe, unassailable, fenced about and fortified — not so as to be furnished with some small fear, but with none at all. For just as a man is called blameless not who does slight harm, but who does no harm, so he is to be held free from fear not who fears small things, but who is altogether empty of fear. For what else is courage but a disposition of the mind that endures in facing danger and in toil and pain, and at the same time stands far off from all fear? And these things surely would not be so, unless every good consisted in the honorable alone.
volumus enim eum, qui beatus sit, tutum esse, inexpugnabilem, saeptum atque munitum, non ut parvo metu praeditus sit, sed ut nullo. ut enim innocens is dicitur, non qui leviter nocet, sed qui nihil nocet, sic sine metu is habendus est, non qui parva metuit, sed qui omnino metu vacat. quae est enim alia fortitudo nisi animi adfectio cum in adeundo periculo et in labore ac dolore patiens, tum procul ab omni metu? atque haec certe non ita se haberent, nisi omne bonum in una honestate consisteret.
And how can anyone possess that most longed-for and sought-after security — by security I now mean freedom from distress, in which the happy life is set — when there is, or can be, a multitude of evils close upon him? How can anyone be lofty and upright, counting all that can befall a man as small — such as we want the wise man to be — unless he reckons that all his goods rest within himself? When Philip threatened the Spartans by letter that he would block everything they attempted, did they not ask whether he would block them even from dying? Will not the man we are seeking be found far more readily with such a spirit than a whole state was found? What more? When to this courage of which we speak temperance is joined — the moderator of all commotions — what can be lacking for living happily to the man whom courage delivers from distress and from fear, while temperance both calls him away from lust and does not let him exult in any insolent excitement? That virtue brings these things about I would show, were they not set out in the earlier days.
qui autem illam maxume optatam et expetitam securitatem— securitatem autem nunc appello vacuitatem aegritudinis, in qua vita beata posita est—habere quisquam potest, cui aut adsit aut adesse possit multitudo malorum? qui autem poterit esse celsus et erectus et ea, quae homini accidere possunt, omnia parva ducens, qualem sapientem esse volumus, nisi omnia sibi in se posita censebit? an Lacedaemonii Philippo minitante per litteras se omnia quae conarentur prohibiturum quaesiverunt, num se esset etiam mori prohibiturus: vir is, quem quaerimus, non multo facilius tali animo reperietur quam civitas universa? quid? ad hanc fortitudinem, de qua loquimur, temperantia adiuncta, quae sit moderatrix omnium commotionum, quid potest ad beate vivendum deesse ei, quem fortitudo ab aegritudine et a metu vindicet, temperantia cum a libidine avocet, tum insolenti alacritate gestire non sinat? haec efficere virtutem ostenderem, nisi superioribus diebus essent explicata.
And since disturbances of the mind make for misery, while their calming makes life happy, and the account of disturbance is twofold — for distress and fear turn upon imagined evils, while exultant gladness and lust turn upon a mistaken view of goods, all of them at war with counsel and reason — when you have seen a man empty of these so weighty agitations, so much at variance and at odds among themselves, and so set loose and free, will you hesitate to call him happy? But the wise man is always so disposed; the wise man, therefore, is always happy. And further: every good is a thing to rejoice in; and what is to be rejoiced in is to be proclaimed and carried before one; and what is of that sort is also a thing of glory; and if of glory, then surely praiseworthy; and what is praiseworthy is assuredly also honorable.
Atque cum perturbationes animi miseriam, sedationes autem vitam efficiant beatam, duplexque ratio perturbationis sit, quod aegritudo et metus in malis opinatis, in bonorum autem errore laetitia gestiens libidoque versetur, quae omnia cum consilio et ratione pugnent, his tu tam gravibus concitationibus tamque ipsis inter se dissentientibus atque distractis quem vacuum solutum liberum videris, hunc dubitabis beatum dicere? atqui sapiens semper ita adfectus est; semper igitur sapiens beatus est. Atque etiam omne bonum laetabile est; quod autem laetabile, id praedicandum et prae se ferendum; quod tale autem, id etiam gloriosum; si vero gloriosum, certe laudabile; quod laudabile autem, profecto etiam honestum;
What is good, therefore, is honorable. But the things these men reckon among goods, not even they themselves call honorable; the only good, then, is the honorable. From which it follows that the happy life is contained in the honorable alone. Those things, then, are not to be called goods, nor to be held such, in which a man may abound and yet be utterly wretched.
quod bonum igitur, id honestum. at quae isti bona numerant, ne ipsi quidem honesta dicunt; solum igitur bonum, quod honestum; ex quo efficitur honestate una vitam contineri beatam. Non sunt igitur ea bona dicenda nec habenda, quibus abundantem licet esse miserrimum.
Or do you doubt that a man outstanding in health, strength, beauty, with the keenest and soundest senses — add even, if you like, agility and speed, throw in riches, honors, commands, power, glory — if the man who has these be unjust, intemperate, cowardly, of a dull and worthless wit, you would not hesitate to call him wretched? Of what sort, then, are those goods which the man who has them can be utterly wretched? Let us consider whether, just as a heap is made of grains of its own kind, so the happy life ought to be made of parts that resemble itself. And if that is so, it must be made of goods that are honorable alone; if these shall be mixed of unlike things, nothing honorable can be made of them; and once that is taken away, what can be understood as happy? For whatever is good is a thing to be desired; and what is to be desired is surely to be approved; and what you have approved is to be held welcome and acceptable; and so worth must be assigned to it as well. And if that is so, it must of necessity be praiseworthy; every good, then, is praiseworthy. From which it follows that what is honorable is the only good.
an dubitas quin praestans valetudine, viribus, forma, acerrumis integerrumisque sensibus, adde etiam, si lubet, pernicitatem et velocitatem, da divitias, honores, imperia, opes, gloriam—si fuerit is, qui haec habet, iniustus, intemperans, timidus, hebeti ingenio atque nullo, dubitabisne eum miserum dicere? qualia igitur ista bona sunt, quae qui habeat miserrimus esse possit? Videamus ne, ut acervus ex sui generis granis, sic beata vita ex sui similibus partibus effici debeat. quod si ita est, ex bonis, quae sola honesta sunt, efficiendum est beatum; ea mixta ex dissimilibus si erunt, honestum ex is effici nihil poterit; quo detracto quid poterit beatum intellegi? Etenim, quicquid est, quod bonum sit, id expetendum est; quod autem expetendum, id certe adprobandum; quod vero adprobaris, id gratum acceptumque habendum; ergo etiam dignitas ei tribuenda est. quod si ita est, laudabile sit necesse est; bonum igitur omne laudabile. ex quo efficitur, ut, quod sit honestum, id sit solum bonum.
For unless we hold to this firmly, there will be many things that we shall have to call goods. I leave aside riches — which, since anyone, however unworthy, may possess them, I do not count among goods, for what is a good cannot be possessed by just anyone; I leave aside nobility and a fame stirred up by the agreement of fools and rogues: yet these, though they are the least of things, must still be called goods — bright little teeth, charming eyes, a pleasing complexion, and the things that Anticlea praises while washing the feet of Ulysses: the smoothness of his speech, the softness of his body. If we shall reckon these as goods, what will there be in a philosopher’s gravity that can be called either weightier or grander than what is in the opinion of the crowd and the throng of fools?
Quod ni ita tenebimus, multa erunt, quae nobis bona dicenda sint; omitto divitias—quas cum quivis quamvis indignus habere possit, in bonis non numero; quod enim est bonum, id non quivis habere potest—, omitto nobilitatem famamque popularem stultorum inproborumque consensu excitatam: haec, quae sunt minima, tamen bona dicantur necesse est, candiduli dentes, venusti oculi, color suavis et ea quae Anticlea laudat Ulixi pedes abluens: Le/nitudo ora/tionis, mo/llitudo co/rporis. ea si bona ducemus, quid erit in philosophi gravitate quam in volgi opinione stultorumque turba quod dicatur aut gravius aut grandius?
But, you say, the Stoics call these same things "preferred" or "advanced," which your school calls goods. They do call them so, to be sure; but they deny that the happy life is made complete by them — whereas these others think there is no happy life without them, or, if there is, certainly deny it is the happiest. We, however, will have it the happiest, and this is confirmed for us by that Socratic chain of reasoning. For thus did that prince of philosophy argue: as the disposition of each man’s soul is, such is the man; and as the man himself is, such is his speech; and his deeds are like his speech, and his life like his deeds. But the disposition of a good man’s soul is praiseworthy; and so the life of a good man is praiseworthy; and therefore honorable, since praiseworthy. From which it is concluded that the life of good men is happy.
At enim eadem Stoici praecipua vel producta dicunt, quae bona isti. dicunt illi quidem, sed is vitam beatam compleri negant; hi autem sine is esse nullam putant aut, si sit beata, beatissimam certe negant. nos autem volumus beatissimam, idque nobis Socratica illa conclusione confirmatur. sic enim princeps ille philosophiae disserebat: qualis cuiusque animi adfectus esset, talem esse hominem; qualis autem homo ipse esset, talem eius esse orationem; orationi autem facta similia, factis vitam. adfectus autem animi in bono viro laudabilis; et vita igitur laudabilis boni viri; et honesta ergo, quoniam laudabilis. ex quibus bonorum beatam vitam esse concluditur.
For, by the faith of gods and men! — was it too little established in our earlier discussions, or did we speak merely for delight and to pass the leisure hours, that the wise man is always free from every commotion of soul, which I call a disturbance, and that there is always in his soul the most placid peace? A man, then, who is temperate, steadfast, without fear, without distress, without idle elation, without lust — is he not happy? But the wise man is always such; therefore he is always happy. And further, how can a good man fail to refer to what is praiseworthy everything that he does and everything that he feels? But he refers everything to living happily; therefore the happy life is praiseworthy; and nothing is praiseworthy without virtue: therefore the happy life is brought about by virtue.
Etenim, pro deorum atque hominum fidem! parumne cognitum est superioribus nostris disputationibus, an delectationis et otii consumendi causa locuti sumus, sapientem ab omni concitatione animi, quam perturbationem voco, semper vacare, semper in animo eius esse placidissimam pacem? vir igitur temperatus, constans, sine metu, sine aegritudine, sine alacritate futtili, sine libidine nonne beatus? at semper sapiens talis; semper igitur beatus. Iam vero qui potest vir bonus non ad id, quod laudabile sit, omnia referre, quae agit quaeque sentit? refert autem omnia ad beate vivendum; beata igitur vita laudabilis; nec quicquam sine virtute laudabile: beata igitur vita virtute conficitur.
And this too is concluded in the following way: there is nothing to be proclaimed or gloried in either in a wretched life or in one that is neither wretched nor happy. And yet in some life there is something to be proclaimed and gloried in and held up before the world, as in Epaminondas: by our counsels the glory of the Spartans was shorn; or in Africanus: from the rising of the sun above the marshes of Maeotis, there is no man who can match my deeds.
Atque hoc sic etiam concluditur: nec in misera vita quicquam est praedicabile aut gloriandum nec in ea, quae nec misera sit nec beata. et est in aliqua vita praedicabile aliquid et gloriandum ac prae se ferendum, ut Epaminondas: Consiliis nostris laus est attonsa Laconum, ut Africanus: A sole exoriente supra Maeotis paludes Nemo est qui factis aequiperare queat.
And if this is so, then the happy life is to be gloried in and proclaimed and held up before the world; for there is nothing else that ought to be proclaimed and held up before the world. With these things laid down, you understand what follows. And indeed, unless that life is happy which is also honorable, it follows of necessity that there is something better than the happy life; for whatever shall be honorable, they will certainly admit to be better. So the happy life will be something less than another thing; and what can be said more perverse than that? What of this? When they admit that there is force enough in vices to make a life wretched, must it not be admitted that there is the same force in virtue to make it happy? For of contraries the consequences are contrary.
quod si est, beata vita glorianda et praedicanda et prae se ferenda est; nihil est enim aliud quod praedicandum et prae se ferendum sit. quibus positis intellegis quid sequatur. Et quidem, nisi ea vita beata est, quae est eadem honesta, sit aliud necesse est melius vita beata; quod erit enim honestum, certe fatebuntur esse melius. ita erit beata vita melius aliquid; quo quid potest dici perversius? Quid? cum fatentur satis magnam vim esse in vitiis ad miseram vitam, nonne fatendum est eandem vim in virtute esse ad beatam vitam? contrariorum enim contraria sunt consequentia.
At this point I ask what force there is in that balance of Critolaus, who, when he places the goods of the soul in one pan and the goods of the body and external goods in the other, thinks the pan of the soul’s goods weighs down so heavily that it would sink the earth and the seas. What, then, prevents either this man, or that gravest of philosophers Xenocrates, who exalts virtue so greatly while making light of everything else and casting it away, from placing in virtue not merely a happy life but the happiest of lives?
Quo loco quaero, quam vim habeat libra illa Critolai, qui cum in alteram lancem animi bona imponat, in alteram corporis et externa, tantum propendere illam bonorum animi lancem putet, ut terram et maria deprimat. quid ergo aut hunc prohibet aut etiam Xenocratem illum gravissumum philosophorum, exaggerantem tantopere virtutem, extenuantem cetera et abicientem, in virtute non beatam modo vitam, sed etiam beatissimam ponere?
And unless this is so, the destruction of the virtues will follow. For on whomever distress falls, fear must fall on the same man as well — for fear is the anxious expectation of distress to come; and on whomever fear falls, on the same man fall dread, timidity, panic, cowardice; and so the same man will at times be conquered, and will not think that precept of Atreus applies to him: let them so prepare themselves in life that they know not how to be conquered. But this man will be conquered, as I have said, and not only conquered but enslaved as well; while we will have virtue always free, always unconquered; and unless these things hold, virtue is overthrown.
quod quidem nisi fit, virtutum interitus consequetur. nam in quem cadit aegritudo, in eundem metum cadere necesse est (est enim metus futurae aegritudinis sollicita expectatio ); in quem autem metus, in eundem formido timiditas pavor ignavia; ergo, ut idem vincatur interdum nec putet ad se praeceptum illud Atrei pertinere: Proinde i/ta parent se in vi/ta, ut vinci ne/sciant. hic autem vincetur, ut dixi, nec modo vincetur, sed etiam serviet; at nos autem virtutem semper liberam volumus, semper invictam; quae nisi sunt, sublata virtus est.
And if there is enough protection in virtue for living well, there is enough also for living happily; for there is certainly enough in virtue for us to live bravely; if bravely, then also with greatness of soul, and indeed so that we are never terrified by anything and are always unconquered. It follows that nothing is regretted, nothing lacking, nothing in the way; therefore all things flow on freely, perfectly, prosperously, and thus happily. But virtue has power enough for living bravely; therefore power enough also for living happily.
Atque si in virtute satis est praesidii ad bene vivendum, satis est etiam ad beate; satis est enim certe in virtute, ut fortiter vivamus; si fortiter, etiam ut magno animo, et quidem ut nulla re umquam terreamur semperque simus invicti. sequitur, ut nihil paeniteat, nihil desit, nihil obstet; ergo omnia profluenter absolute prospere, igitur beate. satis autem virtus ad fortiter vivendum potest; satis ergo etiam ad beate.
For just as folly, even when it has attained what it desired, never thinks it has gained enough, so wisdom is always content with what is at hand, and is never displeased with itself. Do you suppose the single consulship of Gaius Laelius was like another’s — and that too coming with a defeat (if, when a man wise and good, such as he was, is passed over in the voting, it is not rather the people that has met a defeat at the hands of a good consul than he at the hands of a good people)? But still — which would you rather, if the choice were yours: to be consul once like Laelius, or four times like Cinna?
Etenim ut stultitia, etsi adepta est quod concupivit, numquam se tamen satis consecutam putat, sic sapientia semper eo contenta est quod adest, neque eam umquam sui paenitet. Similemne putas C. Laelii unum consulatum fuisse, et eum quidem cum repulsa (si, cum sapiens et bonus vir, qualis ille fuit, suffragiis praeteritur, non populus a bono consule potius quam ille a bono populo repulsam fert )—sed tamen utrum malles te, si potestas esset, semel ut Laelium consulem an ut Cinnam quater?
I have no doubt what you will answer; and so I see to whom I am committing the question. I would not put this same question to just anyone; for another might perhaps answer that he prefers not only four consulships to one, but a single day of Cinna’s to whole lifetimes of many famous men. Laelius, had he so much as touched a man with his finger, would have paid the penalty; but Cinna ordered the head of his colleague, the consul Gnaeus Octavius, to be struck off, and the heads of Publius Crassus and Lucius Caesar, men of the highest nobility, whose virtue had been proved at home and in war, and of Marcus Antonius, the most eloquent of all men I ever heard, and of Gaius Caesar, in whom there seemed to me to be a model of refinement, of wit, of charm, of grace. Was he happy, then, who killed these men? To me, on the contrary, he seems wretched not only because he did these things, but also because he so conducted himself that he was free to do them — though in truth no one is free to do wrong; but we slip through an error of language, for we say a thing is permitted
non dubito, tu quid responsurus sis; itaque video, cui committam. non quemvis hoc idem interrogarem; responderet enim alius fortasse se non modo quattuor consulatus uni anteponere, sed unum diem Cinnae multorum et clarorum virorum totis aetatibus. Laelius si digito quem attigisset, poenas dedisset; at Cinna collegae sui consulis Cn. Octavii praecidi caput iussit, P. Crassi L. Caesaris, nobilissimorum hominum, quorum virtus fuerat domi militiaeque cognita, M. Antonii, omnium eloquentissimi quos ego audierim, C. Caesaris, in quo mihi videtur specimen fuisse humanitatis salis suavitatis leporis. beatusne igitur, qui hos interfecit? mihi contra non solum eo videtur miser, quod ea fecit, sed etiam quod ita se gessit, ut ea facere ei liceret (etsi peccare nemini licet; sed sermonis errore labimur; id enim licere dicimus,
when it is granted to a man to do it. Which, after all, was the happier — Gaius Marius, when he shared the glory of the Cimbric victory with his colleague Catulus, almost a second Laelius (for I count this man very like him), or when, victor in the civil war and enraged, he answered the kinsmen of Catulus who pleaded with him not once but again and again: "let him die"? In this the happier was the man who obeyed that wicked command than the one who issued so criminal an order. For as it is better to receive an injury than to do one, so it was better to go a little forward to meet death already drawing near — which is what Catulus did — than to do as Marius did: to crush, by the destruction of such a man, his own six consulships, and to defile the last span of his life.
quod cuique conceditur). utrum tandem beatior C. Marius tum, cum Cimbricae victoriae gloriam cum collega Catulo communicavit, paene altero Laelio—nam hunc illi duco simillimum—, an cum civili bello victor iratus necessariis Catuli deprecantibus non semel respondit, sed saepe: moriatur? in quo beatior ille, qui huic nefariae voci paruit, quam is, qui tam scelerate imperavit. nam cum accipere quam facere praestat iniuriam, tum morti iam ipsi adventanti paulum procedere ob viam, quod fecit Catulus, quam quod Marius, talis viri interitu sex suos obruere consulatus et contaminare extremum tempus aetatis.
For thirty-eight years Dionysius was tyrant of the Syracusans, having seized the lordship at the age of twenty-five. With what splendor, with what resources he held the city, and the state oppressed in slavery! And yet of this man we have received from good authorities this account: that he was in his manner of living of the utmost temperance, in the conduct of affairs a keen and industrious man, but at the same time malicious by nature and unjust; from which it must seem to all who rightly look upon the truth that he was the most wretched of men. For the very things he had set his heart on, not even then, when he believed he could do all things, did he attain.
Duodequadraginta annos tyrannus Syracusanorum fuit Dionysius, cum quinque et viginti natus annos dominatum occupavisset. qua pulchritudine urbem, quibus autem opibus praeditam servitute oppressam tenuit civitatem! atqui de hoc homine a bonis auctoribus sic scriptum accepimus, summam fuisse eius in victu temperantiam in rebusque gerundis virum acrem et industrium, eundem tamen maleficum natura et iniustum; ex quo omnibus bene veritatem intuentibus videri necesse est miserrimum. ea enim ipsa, quae concupierat, ne tum quidem, cum omnia se posse censebat, consequebatur.
For though he was born of good parents and of honorable station — though indeed this one point is handed down differently by different writers — and abounded both in the friendships of his peers and in the company of his kinsmen, and had besides, after the Greek fashion, certain young men bound to him by love, he trusted none of them, but committed the guarding of his person to men whom he had chosen as slaves out of the households of the rich, from whom he himself had stripped the name of slavery, and to certain immigrants and savage barbarians. Thus, through his unjust craving for lordship, he had in a manner shut himself up in prison. Indeed, that he might not entrust his throat to a barber, he taught his own daughters to cut hair. So in a sordid and servile craft these royal maidens, like little barber-girls, trimmed the beard and hair of their father. And yet from these very girls, when they were now grown, he took away the blade, and arranged that with glowing walnut shells they should singe off his beard and hair.
qui cum esset bonis parentibus atque honesto loco natus—etsi id quidem alius alio modo tradidit—abundaretque et aequalium familiaritatibus et consuetudine propinquorum, haberet etiam more Graeciae quosdam adulescentis amore coniunctos, credebat eorum nemini, sed is quos ex familiis locupletium servos delegerat, quibus nomen servitutis ipse detraxerat, et quibusdam convenis et feris barbaris corporis custodiam committebat. ita propter iniustam dominatus cupiditatem in carcerem quodam modo ipse se incluserat. quin etiam ne tonsori collum committeret, tondere filias suas docuit. ita sordido ancillarique artificio regiae virgines ut tonstriculae tondebant barbam et capillum patris. et tamen ab is ipsis, cum iam essent adultae, ferrum removit instituitque, ut candentibus iuglandium putaminibus barbam sibi et capillum adurerent.
And though he had two wives, Aristomache, his fellow citizen, and Doris of Locri, he would come to them by night only after spying out and searching through everything beforehand. And since he had set a broad ditch around the chamber where his bed stood, and had joined the crossing of that ditch by a little wooden bridge, he himself would swing this very bridge aside once he had shut the door of the chamber. And since he did not dare to stand on the common platforms, he was accustomed to address the assembly from a high tower.
cumque duas uxores haberet, Aristomachen civem suam, Doridem autem Locrensem, sic noctu ad eas ventitabat, ut omnia specularetur et perscrutaretur ante. et cum fossam latam cubiculari lecto circumdedisset eiusque fossae transitum ponticulo ligneo coniunxisset, eum ipsum, cum forem cubiculi clauserat, detorquebat. idemque cum in communibus suggestis consistere non auderet, contionari ex turri alta solebat.
And when he wished to play ball — for he did this eagerly and often — and was laying aside his tunic, he is said to have handed his sword to a young man whom he loved. At this one of his companions said in jest: "To him, at any rate, you certainly entrust your life," and the young man smiled; whereupon he ordered both to be put to death, the one because he had pointed out the way of killing him, the other because he had approved the remark by his laughter. And by that deed he was so grieved that he bore nothing more heavily in all his life; for he had killed one he had loved intensely. So the desires of men without self-mastery are pulled apart in opposite directions: when you have indulged the one, the other must be resisted.
atque is cum pila ludere vellet —studiose enim id factitabat—tunicamque poneret, adulescentulo, quem amabat, tradidisse gladium dicitur. hic cum quidam familiaris iocans dixisset: huic quidem certe vitam tuam committis adrisissetque adulescens, utrumque iussit interfici, alterum, quia viam demonstravisset interimendi sui, alterum, quia dictum id risu adprobavisset. atque eo facto sic doluit, nihil ut tulerit gravius in vita; quem enim vehementer amarat, occiderat. sic distrahuntur in contrarias partis impotentium cupiditates. cum huic obsecutus sis, illi est repugnandum.
And yet this very tyrant passed judgment on his own happiness. For when one of his flatterers, Damocles, was recounting in conversation his forces, his power, the majesty of his rule, the abundance of his wealth, the splendor of his royal palace, and declaring that no one had ever been more fortunate, "Would you like, then, Damocles," he said, "since this life delights you, to taste it for yourself and try out my fortune?" When the man said he would gladly, Dionysius ordered him laid on a golden couch spread with a covering of the most beautiful weave, embroidered with magnificent designs, and had several sideboards decked with chased gold and silver. Then he ordered chosen boys of surpassing beauty to take their stand at the table and to wait upon him attentively, watching his every nod.
Quamquam hic quidem tyrannus ipse iudicavit, quam esset beatus. nam cum quidam ex eius adsentatoribus, Damocles, commemoraret in sermone copias eius, opes, maiestatem dominatus, rerum abundantiam, magnificentiam aedium regiarum negaretque umquam beatiorem quemquam fuisse, visne igitur inquit, o Damocle, quoniam te haec vita delectat, ipse eam degustare et fortunam experiri meam? cum se ille cupere dixisset, conlocari iussit hominem in aureo lecto strato pulcherrimo textili stragulo, magnificis operibus picto, abacosque compluris ornavit argento auroque caelato. tum ad mensam eximia forma pueros delectos iussit consistere eosque nutum illius intuentis diligenter ministrare.
There were perfumes and garlands; incense was burning; the tables were piled high with the choicest delicacies. Damocles thought himself a fortunate man. In the midst of all this display Dionysius ordered a gleaming sword, fastened by a single horsehair, to be let down from the ceiling, so that it hung over the neck of this happy man. And so Damocles neither looked at those beautiful attendants, nor at the silver wrought with such art, nor reached out his hand to the table; the garlands by now were slipping from his head; at last he begged the tyrant to let him go, since he no longer wished to be happy. Does Dionysius not seem to have shown clearly enough that there is no happiness for a man over whom some terror forever hangs? Nor was it any longer open to him to return to justice, to give his citizens back their freedom and their rights; for in his youth, at an age that takes no thought, he had so entangled himself in errors and committed such crimes that he could not be safe if he once began to be sane.
aderant unguenta coronae, incendebantur odores, mensae conquisitissimis epulis extruebantur. fortunatus sibi Damocles videbatur. in hoc medio apparatu fulgentem gladium e lacunari saeta equina aptum demitti iussit, ut impenderet illius beati cervicibus. itaque nec pulchros illos ministratores aspiciebat nec plenum artis argentum nec manum porrigebat in mensam; iam ipsae defluebant coronae; denique exoravit tyrannum, ut abire liceret, quod iam beatus nollet esse. satisne videtur declarasse Dionysius nihil esse ei beatum, cui semper aliqui terror impendeat? atque ei ne integrum quidem erat, ut ad iustitiam remigraret, civibus libertatem et iura redderet; is enim se adulescens inprovida aetate inretierat erratis eaque commiserat, ut salvus esse non posset, si sanus esse coepisset.
How much he longed for friendships, whose faithlessness he dreaded, he showed in the case of those two Pythagoreans: when he had accepted one of them as surety for the other’s death, and the other, to free his surety, had presented himself at the appointed hour of death, "Would," he said, "that I might be enrolled as a third friend among you!" How wretched it was for him to do without the company of friends, the fellowship of daily life, intimate conversation altogether — and this for a man learned from boyhood and schooled in the liberal arts, devoted besides to music; a writer of tragedy, too — how good a one is nothing to the point, for in this field, somehow more than in others, every man finds his own work beautiful. I have never yet known a poet (and I had a friendship with Aquinius) who did not think himself the best; that is how it stands: your work delights you, mine delights me. — But to return to Dionysius: he was deprived of all human refinement and society; he lived among runaways, among criminals, among barbarians; he counted no one his friend who was either worthy of freedom or wished to be free at all. With this man’s life — than which I can conceive nothing more foul, more wretched, more detestable — I shall not now compare the life of Plato or Archytas, learned men and plainly wise:
Quantopere vero amicitias desideraret, quarum infidelitatem extimescebat, declaravit in Pythagoriis duobus illis, quorum cum alterum vadem mortis accepisset, alter, ut vadem suum liberaret, praesto fuisset ad horam mortis destinatam, utinam ego inquit tertius vobis amicus adscriberer! quam huic erat miserum carere consuetudine amicorum, societate victus, sermone omnino familiari, homini praesertim docto a puero et artibus ingenuis erudito, musicorum vero perstudioso; poëtam etiam tragicum —quam bonum, nihil ad rem; in hoc enim genere nescio quo pacto magis quam in aliis suum cuique pulchrum est; adhuc neminem cognovi poëtam (et mihi fuit cum Aquinio amicitia), qui sibi non optumus videretur; sic se res habet: te tua, me delectant mea —sed ut ad Dionysium redeamus: omni cultu et victu humano carebat; vivebat cum fugitivis, cum facinerosis, cum barbaris; neminem, qui aut libertate dignus esset aut vellet omnino liber esse, sibi amicum arbitrabatur. Non ego iam cum huius vita, qua taetrius miserius detestabilius excogitare nihil possum, Platonis aut Archytae vitam comparabo, doctorum hominum et plane sapientium:
from the same city I shall summon up a lowly little man from his dust and drawing-board, one who lived many years later, Archimedes. When I was quaestor I tracked down his grave, unknown to the Syracusans — they denied it existed at all — hemmed in on every side and overgrown with brambles and thickets. For I held in mind certain little verses that I had been told were inscribed upon his monument, which declared that a sphere with a cylinder had been set on top of the tomb.
ex eadem urbe humilem homunculum a pulvere et radio excitabo, qui multis annis post fuit, Archimedem. cuius ego quaestor ignoratum ab Syracusanis, cum esse omnino negarent, saeptum undique et vestitum vepribus et dumetis indagavi sepulcrum. tenebam enim quosdam senariolos, quos in eius monumento esse inscriptos acceperam, qui declarabant in summo sepulcro sphaeram esse positam cum cylindro.
Now as I was surveying everything with my eyes — for there is a great crowd of tombs at the Agrigentine Gate — I noticed a small column standing out a little from the thickets, on which there was the figure of a sphere and a cylinder. And at once I told the Syracusans — their leading men were with me — that I thought this was the very thing I was looking for. Men were sent in with sickles; they cleared and opened up the place.
ego autem cum omnia conlustrarem oculis—est enim ad portas Agragantinas magna frequentia sepulcrorum—, animum adverti columellam non multum e dumis eminentem, in qua inerat sphaerae figura et cylindri. atque ego statim Syracusanis— erant autem principes mecum—dixi me illud ipsum arbitrari esse, quod quaererem. inmissi cum falcibus multi purgarunt et aperuerunt locum.
When the way to it had been laid open, we approached the base facing us. There appeared the epigram, with the latter halves of the little verses eaten away — about half of it remaining. So the most renowned city of Greece, once indeed the most learned as well, would have known nothing of the monument of its one most brilliant citizen, had it not learned of it from a man of Arpinum. But let the discourse return to where it strayed: who is there of all men, provided he has any dealings at all with the Muses — that is, with culture and learning — who would not rather be this mathematician than that tyrant? If we ask after the manner and conduct of their lives, the one man’s mind was nourished by the working out and investigation of reasonings, with the delight of his own ingenuity, which is the single sweetest food of the soul; the other’s, by slaughter and injustice, with fear by day and by night. Come now, set beside him Democritus, Pythagoras, Anaxagoras: what kingdoms, what riches will you prefer to their pursuits and delights?
quo cum patefactus esset aditus, ad adversam basim accessimus. apparebat epigramma exesis posterioribus partibus versiculorum dimidiatum fere. ita nobilissima Graeciae civitas, quondam vero etiam doctissima, sui civis unius acutissimi monumentum ignorasset, nisi ab homine Arpinate didicisset. sed redeat, unde aberravit oratio: quis est omnium, qui modo cum Musis, id est cum humanitate et cum doctrina, habeat aliquod commercium, qui se non hunc mathematicum malit quam illum tyrannum? si vitae modum actionemque quaerimus, alterius mens rationibus agitandis exquirendisque alebatur cum oblectatione sollertiae, qui est unus suavissimus pastus animorum, alterius in caede et iniuriis cum et diurno et nocturno metu. age confer Democritum Pythagoram, Anaxagoram: quae regna, quas opes studiis eorum et delectationibus antepones?
For that part which is best in a man — there it is that the best thing you seek must necessarily reside. And what is there in a man better than a keen and sound mind? It is the good of this mind, then, that we must enjoy, if we wish to be happy; but the good of the mind is virtue; therefore the happy life must necessarily be contained in virtue. From this come all things that are beautiful, honorable, and noble — as I said above, but the same point seems worth stating a little more fully — and they are full of joys. And since it is clear that the happy life arises from perpetual and abundant joys, it follows that it arises from the honorable.
Etenim, quae pars optuma est in homine, in ea situm esse necesse est illud, quod quaeris, optumum. quid est autem in homine sagaci ac bona mente melius? eius bono fruendum est igitur, si beati esse volumus; bonum autem mentis est virtus; ergo hac beatam vitam contineri necesse est. hinc omnia, quae pulchra honesta praeclara sunt, ut supra dixi, sed dicendum idem illud paulo uberius videtur, plena gaudiorum sunt. ex perpetuis autem plenisque gaudiis cum perspicuum sit vitam beatam existere, sequitur ut ea existat ex honestate.
But that we may not merely touch in words upon what we wish to demonstrate, certain considerations must be set out, so to speak, to move us, which may turn us more readily toward recognition and understanding. Let us, then, take a certain outstanding man, accomplished in the finest arts, and let us fashion him for a moment in our mind and thought. First, he must be of exceptional natural gift; for virtue does not readily keep company with sluggish minds. Next, he must have an eager zeal for tracking down the truth. From this there will arise that threefold yield of the mind: one part set in the knowledge of things and the unfolding of nature, a second in the marking out of what is to be sought and what shunned and in the principle of living well, a third in judging what is consequent upon each thing and what contradicts it — and in this lies all the subtlety of reasoning together with the truth of judgment.
Sed ne verbis solum attingamus ea quae volumus ostendere, proponenda quaedam quasi moventia sunt, quae nos magis ad cognitionem intellegentiamque convertant. sumatur enim nobis quidam praestans vir optumis artibus, isque animo parumper et cogitatione fingatur. primum ingenio eximio sit necesse est; tardis enim mentibus virtus non facile comitatur; deinde ad investigandam veritatem studio incitato. ex quo triplex ille animi fetus existet, unus in cognitione rerum positus et in explicatione naturae, alter in discriptione expetendarum fugiendarumque rerum et in ratione be ne vivendi, tertius in iudicando, quid cuique rei sit consequens quid repugnans, in quo inest omnis cum subtilitas disserendi, tum veritas iudicandi.
With what joy, then, must the mind of the wise man be filled, dwelling and passing its nights among these concerns! When he has discerned the motions and revolutions of the whole universe, and seen the countless stars fixed in the sky moving in concert with its own motion, set in their appointed seats; and the seven others each holding their own courses, far apart from one another in their height or their lowness, whose wandering motions yet mark out the fixed and certain spans of their orbits — surely the sight of these things urged on those men of old and prompted them to seek further. From this was born the search into beginnings, and into seeds, as it were, from which all things rose, were generated, and took shape; and what is the origin of each kind, whether lifeless or living, whether mute or speaking; what its life, what its death, and what the succession and change from one thing into another; whence the earth, and by what weights it is balanced, in what hollows the seas are held, by what force of gravity all things are carried so as ever to seek the middle place of the world, which in a round body is also the lowest.
quo tandem igitur gaudio adfici necesse est sapientis animum cum his habitantem pernoctantemque curis! ut, cum totius mundi motus conversionesque perspexerit sideraque viderit innumerabilia caelo inhaerentia cum eius ipsius motu congruere certis infixa sedibus, septem alia suos quaeque tenere cursus multum inter se aut altitudine aut humilitate distantia, quorum vagi motus rata tamen et certa sui cursus spatia definiant—horum nimirum aspectus impulit illos veteres et admonuit, ut plura quaererent; inde est indagatio nata initiorum et tamquam seminum, unde essent omnia orta generata concreta, quaeque cuiusque generis vel inanimi vel animantis vel muti vel loquentis origo, quae vita, qui interitus quaeque ex alio in aliud vicissitudo atque mutatio, unde terra et quibus librata ponderibus, quibus cavernis maria sustineantur, qua omnia delata gravitate medium mundi locum semper expetant, qui est idem infimus in rutundo.
For the mind that handles these matters and reflects on them night and day, there arises that self-knowledge enjoined by the god at Delphi: that the mind should recognize itself and feel itself joined with the divine mind, from which it is filled with an insatiable joy. For the very contemplation of the power and nature of the gods kindles a zeal to imitate their eternity, and the mind does not think itself confined within the brevity of life, when it sees the causes of things linked one to another and bound by necessity — causes which, though they flow from everlasting time into everlasting, are yet governed by reason and mind.
haec tractanti animo et noctes et dies cogitanti existit illa a deo Delphis praecepta cognitio, ut ipsa se mens agnoscat coniunctamque cum divina mente se sentiat, ex quo insatiabili gaudio compleatur. ipsa enim cogitatio de vi et natura deorum studium incendit illius aeternitatem imitandi, neque se in brevitate vitae conlocatam putat, cum rerum causas alias ex aliis aptas et necessitate nexas videt, quibus ab aeterno tempore fluentibus in aeternum ratio tamen mensque moderatur.
Gazing upon these things and looking up at them — or rather, surveying every part and region of them — with what tranquility of mind, in turn, does he consider human affairs and things nearer at hand! From this comes that knowledge of virtue; the kinds and parts of the virtues come into flower; it is discovered what nature looks to as the ultimate end among goods and the last among evils, to what the duties are to be referred, what plan of living out one’s life is to be chosen. And from the investigation of these and like matters there comes about, above all else, that very thing which is the business of this discussion: that virtue is self-sufficient for living happily.
Haec ille intuens atque suspiciens vel potius omnis partis orasque circumspiciens quanta rursus animi tranquillitate humana et citeriora considerat! hinc illa cognitio virtutis existit, efflorescunt genera partesque virtutum, invenitur, quid sit quod natura spectet extremum in bonis, quid in malis ultumum, quo referenda sint officia, quae degendae aetatis ratio deligenda. quibus et talibus rebus exquisitis hoc vel maxime efficitur, quod hac disputatione agimus, ut virtus ad beate vivendum sit se ipsa contenta.
There follows the third part, which runs and pours through every part of wisdom — which defines a thing, distinguishes its kinds, joins what follows, draws conclusions to their completion, and judges true from false: the method and science of reasoning. From it arises both the highest usefulness for weighing matters and, above all, a delight that is liberal and worthy of wisdom. But these are the works of leisure. Let this same wise man pass over to the defense of the commonwealth. What could be more excellent than he, when in his prudence he discerns what is to the advantage of the citizens, in his justice diverts nothing of it to his own house, and makes use of all his other so many and so various virtues? Add the harvest of friendships, in which the learned find both counsel for the whole of life, harmonious and almost of one breath, and the highest pleasure in their daily intercourse and shared life. What, in the end, does this life want, to be happier? Fortune herself must yield to a life crammed with so many and so great joys. But if to rejoice in such goods of the mind — that is, in the virtues — is to be happy, and if all the wise enjoy these joys to the full, then it must be admitted that they are all happy. — Even on the rack and under torture?
Sequitur tertia, quae per omnis partis sapientiae manat et funditur, quae rem definit, genera dispertit, sequentia adiungit, perfecta concludit, vera et falsa diiudicat, disserendi ratio et scientia. ex qua cum summa utilitas existit ad res ponderandas, tum maxume ingenua delectatio et digna sapientia. Sed haec otii. transeat idem iste sapiens ad rem publicam tuendam. quid eo possit esse praestantius, cum †contineri prudentia utilitatem civium cernat, iustitia nihil in suam domum inde derivet, reliquis utatur tot tam variisque virtutibus? adiunge fructum amicitiarum, in quo doctis positum est cum consilium omnis vitae consentiens et paene conspirans, tum summa iucunditas e cotidiano cultu atque victu. Quid haec tandem vita desiderat, quo sit beatior? cui refertae tot tantisque gaudiis Fortuna ipsa cedat necesse est. quodsi gaudere talibus bonis animi, id est virtutibus, beatum est omnesque sapientes is gaudiis perfruuntur, omnis eos beatos esse confiteri necesse est. Etiamne in cruciatu atque tormentis?
Or did you suppose I was speaking of him as lying on violets and roses? Or shall it be permitted to Epicurus — who merely put on the mask of a philosopher and inscribed the name upon himself — to say (a thing that, as the matter stands, he says to my applause) that there is no time for the wise man, even if he be burned, racked, cut, when he cannot cry out, "How utterly I scorn it!" — and this above all when he defines every evil by pain and every good by pleasure, mocks these honorable and base things of ours, and says that we are taken up with words and pour out empty sounds, that nothing concerns us except what is felt in the body as smooth or rough? To this man, then, differing little, as I said, from the judgment of beasts, it shall be permitted to forget himself, and at one moment to despise fortune — though his every good and evil lies in fortune’s power — and at the next to call himself happy in the height of torment and torture, though he has laid it down that pain is not only the highest evil but the only one?
An tu me in viola putabas aut in rosa dicere? an Epicuro, qui tantum modo induit personam philosophi et sibi ipse hoc nomen inscripsit, dicere licebit, quod quidem, ut habet se res, me tamen plaudente dicit, nullum sapienti esse tempus, etiamsi uratur torqueatur secetur, quin possit exclamare: quam pro nihilo puto! cum praesertim omne malum dolore definiat bonum voluptate, haec nostra honesta turpia inrideat dicatque nos in vocibus occupatos inanis sonos fundere, neque quicquam ad nos pertinere nisi quod aut leve aut asperum in corpore sentiatur: huic ergo, ut dixi, non multum differenti a iudicio ferarum oblivisci licebit sui et tum fortunam contemnere, cum sit omne et bonum eius et malum in potestate fortunae, tum dicere se beatum in summo cruciatu atque tormentis, cum constituerit non modo summum malum esse dolorem, sed etiam solum?
Nor indeed has he furnished himself with those remedies for enduring pain — firmness of mind, shame at what is base, the practice and habit of suffering, the precepts of fortitude, a manly hardness — but he says he finds rest in a single thing, the recollection of past pleasures; as if a man scorched by heat, when he cannot easily bear the violence of it, should wish to recall that once, in our own country of Arpinum, he was plunged about by cool rivers. For I do not see how past pleasures can soothe
nec vero illa sibi remedia comparavit ad tolerandum dolorem, firmitatem animi, turpitudinis verecundiam, exercitationem consuetudinemque patiendi, praecepta fortitudinis, duritiam virilem, sed una se dicit recordatione adquiescere praeteritarum voluptatium, ut si quis aestuans, cum vim caloris non facile patiatur, recordari velit sese aliquando in Arpinati nostro gelidis fluminibus circumfusum fuisse. non enim video, quo modo sedare possint
present evils. — But since the man who says this declares the wise man always happy — a thing he has no right to say, if he wished to be consistent with himself — what then must they do who hold that nothing is to be sought, nothing to be counted among goods, that lacks honor? On my authority, then, let even the Peripatetics and the old Academics at last leave off their stammering and dare to say openly and in a clear voice that the happy life will go down into the bull of Phalaris.
mala praesentia praeteritae voluptates—sed cum is dicat semper beatum esse sapientem, cui dicere hoc, si sibi constare vellet, non liceret, quidnam faciendum est is qui nihil expetendum, nihil in bonis ducendum, quod honestate careat, existumant? Me quidem auctore etiam Peripatetici veteresque Academici balbuttire aliquando desinant aperteque et clara voce audeant dicere beatam vitam in Phalaridis taurum descensuram.
For let there be three kinds of goods — to withdraw at last from the Stoic snares, which I see I have employed more than is my habit — let there be those kinds of goods, then, by all means, provided the goods of the body and the external ones lie low upon the ground and are called goods only because they are to be taken up, while those divine goods of the soul spread themselves far and wide and reach the very sky; so that the man who has attained them — why should I call him merely happy and not the happiest of all? But will the wise man dread pain? For it is pain above all that fights against this verdict. Against the death of ourselves and of those dear to us, against distress and the other disturbances of the soul, we seem armed and ready enough by the discussions of the earlier days; pain seems the fiercest adversary of virtue. It brandishes its blazing torches; it threatens to wear down courage, greatness of soul, and endurance.
sint enim tria genera bonorum, ut iam a laqueis Stoicorum, quibus usum me pluribus quam soleo intellego, recedamus, sint sane illa genera bonorum, dum corporis et externa iaceant humi et tantum modo, quia sumenda sint, appellentur bona, animi autem illa divina longe lateque se pandant caelumque contingant; ut, ea qui adeptus sit, cur eum beatum modo et non beatissimum etiam dixerim? Dolorem vero sapiens extimescet? is enim huic maxime sententiae repugnat. nam contra mortem nostram atque nostrorum contraque aegritudinem et reliquas animi perturbationes satis esse videmur superiorum dierum disputationibus armati et parati; dolor esse videtur acerrumus virtutis adversarius; is ardentis faces intentat, is fortitudinem, magnitudinem animi, patientiam se debilitaturum minatur.
Will virtue, then, give way to this? Will the happy life of the wise and steadfast man yield to it? How shameful, good gods! Spartan boys do not so much as groan when they are torn by the pain of the lash. We ourselves saw at Lacedaemon bands of young men contending with unbelievable fierceness — with fists, heels, nails, even teeth at the last — sooner letting themselves be beaten senseless than confess themselves beaten. What barbarian land is wilder or rougher than India? Yet even among that people, those first who are held to be wise pass their lives naked, and endure the snows of the Caucasus and the violence of winter without pain; and when they have laid themselves against the flame, they are scorched without a groan.
huic igitur succumbet virtus, huic beata sapientis et constantis viri vita cedet? quam turpe, o dii boni! pueri Spartiatae non ingemescunt verberum dolore laniati. adulescentium greges Lacedaemone vidimus ipsi incredibili contentione certantis pugnis calcibus unguibus morsu denique, cum exanimarentur prius quam victos se faterentur. quae barbaria India vastior aut agrestior? in ea tamen gente primum ei, qui sapientes habentur, nudi aetatem agunt et Caucasi nives hiemalemque vim perferunt sine dolore, cumque ad flammam se adplicaverunt, sine gemitu aduruntur.
The women of India, moreover, when one of them has lost her husband, come into a contest and a trial: which of them he loved most — for several wives are usually married to a single man. She who is the victor, attended joyfully by her own people, is laid upon the pyre together with her husband; the one defeated departs in grief. Custom would never overcome nature, for nature is forever unconquered; but we have infected our souls with shadows, with luxuries, with idleness, sloth, and indolence; we have softened them, lulled by opinions and by bad habit. Who does not know the custom of the Egyptians? Their minds, steeped in the errors of perversity, would undergo any torture sooner than do violence to an ibis, an asp, a cat, a dog, or a crocodile; and even if they have done one of these creatures some harm unawares, they refuse no punishment for it.
mulieres vero in India, cum est cuius earum vir mortuus, in certamen iudiciumque veniunt, quam plurumum ille dilexerit— plures enim singulis solent esse nuptae—; quae est victrix, ea laeta prosequentibus suis una cum viro in rogum imponitur, illa victa maesta discedit. numquam naturam mos vinceret; est enim ea semper invicta; sed nos umbris deliciis otio languore desidia animum infecimus, opinionibus maloque more delenitum mollivimus. Aegyptiorum morem quis ignorat? quorum inbutae mentes pravitatis erroribus quamvis carnificinam prius subierint quam ibim aut aspidem aut faelem aut canem aut corcodillum violent, quorum etiamsi inprudentes quippiam fecerint, poenam nullam recusent.
I speak of men. What of beasts? Do they not endure cold, hunger, their roving courses and wanderings over mountains and through forests? Do they not fight for their young so fiercely that they take wounds upon themselves, flinching from no assault, no blow? I pass over what men endure and suffer who are greedy for office for ambition’s sake, eager for praise for the sake of glory, kindled by love for the sake of desire. Life is full of such examples.
de hominibus loquor; quid? bestiae non frigus, non famem, non montivagos atque silvestris cursus lustrationesque patiuntur? non pro suo partu ita propugnant, ut vulnera excipiant, nullos impetus nullos ictus reformident? omitto, quae perferant quaeque patiantur ambitiosi honoris causa, laudis studiosi gloriae gratia, amore incensi cupiditatis. plena vita exemplorum est.
But let our discourse keep its measure and return to the point from which it turned aside. The happy life, I say, will give itself over to the torments, and having followed justice, temperance, and above all courage, greatness of soul, and endurance, when it has seen the face of the torturer it will halt — and with all the virtues setting out toward the torment without any terror of soul, it will stand its ground outside the doors, as I said before, and on the threshold of the prison. For what could be more loathsome than the happy life, what more disfigured, left alone, cut off from its fairest company? Yet that can in no way come to pass; for the virtues cannot hold together without the happy life, nor the happy life without the virtues.
Sed adhibeat oratio modum et redeat illuc, unde deflexit. dabit, inquam, se in tormenta vita beata nec iustitiam temperantiam in primisque fortitudinem, magnitudinem animi, patientiam prosecuta, cum tortoris os viderit, consistet virtutibusque omnibus sine ullo animi terrore ad cruciatum profectis resistet extra fores, ut ante dixi, limenque carceris. quid enim ea foedius, quid deformius sola relicta, a comitatu pulcherrimo segregata? quod tamen fieri nullo pacto potest; nec enim virtutes sine beata vita cohaerere possunt nec illa sine virtutibus.
And so they will not allow it to turn its back, but will carry it off with them to whatever pain and torment they themselves are led. For it is the wise man’s own mark to do nothing he could ever repent of, nothing against his will, but all things splendidly, steadfastly, with weight and with honor; to expect nothing as though it were certain to come, to wonder at nothing when it has come, as though it had befallen unforeseen and strange; to refer all things to his own judgment, to stand by his own decisions. What could be happier than this, I for one cannot conceive.
itaque eam tergiversari non sinent secumque rapient, ad quemcumque ipsae dolorem cruciatumque ducentur. sapientis est enim proprium nihil quod paenitere possit facere, nihil invitum, splendide constanter graviter honeste omnia, nihil ita expectare quasi certo futurum, nihil, cum acciderit, admirari, ut inopinatum ac novum accidisse videatur, omnia ad suum arbitrium referre, suis stare iudiciis. quo quid sit beatius, mihi certe in mentem venire non potest.
The Stoics’ conclusion, indeed, is easy. Since they have judged that the end of goods is to be in harmony with nature and to live in accord with it, and since this lies within the wise man’s power not by duty alone but by capacity, it must follow that the man in whose power the highest good lies has the happy life in his power as well. Thus the wise man’s life is always happy. — There you have what I think can be said most stoutly about the happy life, and, as matters now stand, unless you bring something better, most truly as well. — For my part I can bring nothing better; but I would gladly win this from you, if it is no trouble: since no bonds tie you to any one fixed school, and you draw from all of them whatever most moves you with the look of truth — what you seemed a little while ago to be urging upon the Peripatetics and the Old Academy, that without any holding back they should dare to say freely that the wise are always happiest, that is what I should like to hear, how you think it consistent for them to say it. For you said much against that verdict, and much that was deduced by the reasoning of the Stoics.
Stoicorum quidem facilis conclusio est; qui cum finem bonorum esse senserint congruere naturae cumque ea convenienter vivere, cum id sit in sapientis situm non officio solum, verum etiam potestate, sequatur necesse est, ut, cuius in potestate summum bonum, in eiusdem vita beata sit. ita fit semper vita beata sapientis. Habes, quae fortissime de beata vita dici putem et, quo modo nunc est, nisi quid tu melius attuleris, etiam verissime. Melius equidem adferre nihil possum, sed a te impetrarim lubenter, ut, nisi molestum sit, quoniam te nulla vincula impediunt ullius certae disciplinae libasque ex omnibus, quodcumque te maxime specie veritatis movet,—quod paulo ante Peripateticos veteremque Academiam hortari videbare, ut sine retractatione libere dicere auderent sapientis esse semper beatissimos, id velim audire, quem ad modum his putes consentaneum esse id dicere. multa enim a te contra istam sententiam dicta sunt et Stoicorum ratione conclusa.
Let us use, then, the liberty that we alone in philosophy are allowed to use — we whose discourse pronounces no judgment of its own, but ranges over every side, so that it may be judged by others through itself, with no man’s authority attached. And since you seem to wish this — that whatever the verdict of the disagreeing philosophers may be about the ends, virtue should nevertheless have safeguard enough for the happy life — which is what we are told Carneades used to argue; but he argued it against the Stoics, whom he was always most eager to refute, and against whose doctrine his genius had taken fire. I, however, will conduct it in peace — for if the Stoics have set down the end of goods rightly, the matter is settled: the wise man must always be happy —
Utamur igitur libertate, qua nobis solis in philosophia licet uti, quorum oratio nihil ipsa iudicat, sed habetur in omnis partis, ut ab aliis possit ipsa per sese nullius auctoritate adiuncta iudicari. Et quoniam videris hoc velle, ut, quaecumque dissentientium philosophorum sententia sit de finibus, tamen virtus satis habeat ad vitam beatam praesidii, quod quidem Carneadem disputare solitum accepimus; sed is ut contra Stoicos, quos studiosissime semper refellebat et contra quorum disciplinam ingenium eius exarserat; nos illud quidem cum pace agemus—si enim Stoici finis bonorum recte posiverunt, confecta res est: necesse est semper bea-
but let us examine each of the remaining verdicts one by one, if it can be done, to see whether this splendid decree, so to speak, of the happy life can be made to agree with the verdicts and doctrines of all. Now these, as I suppose, are the verdicts about the ends that have been held and defended. First, four simple ones: nothing is good but the honorable, as the Stoics hold; nothing is good but pleasure, as Epicurus holds; nothing is good but freedom from pain, as Hieronymus holds; nothing is good but to enjoy the first goods of nature, either all of them or the greatest, as Carneades argued against the Stoics.
tum esse sapientem—, sed quaeramus unam quamque reliquorum sententiam, si fieri potest, ut hoc praeclarum quasi decretum beatae vitae possit omnium sententiis et disciplinis convenire. Sunt autem haec de finibus, ut opinor, retentae defensaeque sententiae: primum simplices quattuor, nihil bonum nisi honestum, ut Stoici, nihil bonum nisi voluptatem, ut Epicurus, nihil bonum nisi vacuitatem doloris, ut Hieronymus, nihil bonum nisi naturae primis bonis aut omnibus aut maxumis frui, ut Carneades contra Stoicos disserebat.
These, then, are the simple verdicts; the following are the mixed: three kinds of goods, the greatest of the soul, the second of the body, the third the external ones, as the Peripatetics hold, and not much otherwise the Old Academics. Pleasure with honor Dinomachus and Callipho coupled together; freedom from pain the Peripatetic Diodorus joined to the honorable. These are the verdicts that have some stability; for those of Aristo, of Pyrrho, of Erillus, and of certain others have faded away. What these can maintain, let us see — leaving the Stoics aside, whose verdict I think I have defended sufficiently. And the case of the Peripatetics has indeed been set out, except for Theophrastus and any who, following him, shrink from pain too feebly and dread it. The rest may do what they generally do — exalt the weight and worth of virtue. And when they have raised it to the sky, as eloquent men are wont to do with full abundance, it is easy to grind down and despise the rest by comparison. For it cannot be permitted to those who say that praise is to be sought even at the cost of pain to deny that those are happy who have attained it. For although they may be amid certain evils, still this name of "the happy" extends far and wide.
haec igitur simplicia, illa mixta: tria genera bonorum, maxuma animi, secunda corporis, externa tertia, ut Peripatetici nec multo veteres Academici secus; voluptatem cum honestate Dinomachus et Callipho copulavit, indolentiam autem honestati Peripateticus Diodorus adiunxit. haec sunt sententiae, quae stabilitatis aliquid habeant; nam Aristonis Pyrrhonis Erilli non nullorumque aliorum evanuerunt. hi quid possint optinere, videamus omissis Stoicis, quorum satis videor defendisse sententiam. Et Peripateticorum quidem explicata causa est praeter Theophrastum et si qui illum secuti imbecillius horrent dolorem et reformidant; reliquis quidem licet facere id quod fere faciunt, ut gravitatem dignitatemque virtutis exaggerent. quam cum ad caelum extulerunt, quod facere eloquentes homines copiose solent, reliqua ex conlatione facile est conterere atque contemnere. nec enim licet is, qui laudem cum dolore petendam esse dicant, negare eos esse beatos, qui illam adepti sunt. quamquam enim sint in quibusdam malis, tamen hoc nomen beati longe et late patet.
For just as trade is called profitable and plowing fruitful — not if the one is forever free of every loss and the other of every disaster of weather, but if good fortune stands out in much the greater part of each — so a life can rightly be called happy not only if it is crammed with goods on every side, but if the good things weigh down the scale by much the greater and heavier part.
nam ut quaestuosa mercatura, fructuosa aratio dicitur, non si altera semper omni damno, altera omni tempestatis calamitate semper vacat, sed si multo maiore ex parte exstat in utraque felicitas, sic vita non solum si undique referta bonis est, sed si multo maiore et graviore ex parte bona propendent, beata recte dici potest.
By their reckoning, then, the happy life will follow virtue even to torture, and will go down with it into the bull, on the authority of Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, and Polemo, and corrupted by no threats or blandishments will not desert it. The verdict of Callipho and of Diodorus will be the same, since each of them embraces the honorable so as to judge that all things which exist apart from it are to be set far behind it. The rest seem to hold a narrower ground, yet they swim clear all the same — Epicurus, Hieronymus, and any there are who care to defend that deserted Carneadean end; for there is not one of them who does not hold the soul to be the judge of goods, and who does not train it so that it can despise whatever seems good or evil.
sequetur igitur horum ratione vel ad supplicium beata vita virtutem cumque ea descendet in taurum Aristotele Xenocrate Speusippo Polemone auctoribus nec eam minis blandimentisve corrupta deseret. Eadem Calliphontis erit Diodorique sententia, quorum uterque honestatem sic complectitur, ut omnia, quae sine ea sint, longe et retro ponenda censeat. Reliqui habere se videntur angustius, enatant tamen, Epicurus Hieronymus et si qui sunt qui desertum illum Carneadeum finem curent defendere; nemo est enim eorum quin bonorum animum putet esse iudicem eumque condocefaciat, ut ea, quae bona malave videantur, possit contemnere.
For the case that seems to you Epicurus’s will be the same as Hieronymus’s and Carneades’s, and, by Hercules, that of all the rest. For who is too little prepared against death or pain? Let us begin, if you please, with the man whom we call soft, whom we call a pleasure-seeker. What? Does he seem to you to fear death or pain — he who calls the very day on which he dies a happy one, and who, struck by the greatest pains, confounds those very pains by the memory and recollection of his own discoveries? And he does not handle this in such a way as to seem to be merely babbling off the cuff. For about death he holds this view: that when the living being is dissolved, sensation is extinguished, and that what is without sensation he judges to be nothing to us. As for pain, likewise, he has fixed principles to follow: he consoles its severity by its brevity, and its long duration by its lightness.
nam quae tibi Epicuri videtur, eadem erit Hieronymi et Carneadis causa et hercule omnium reliquorum. quis enim parum est contra mortem aut dolorem paratus? Ordiamur ab eo, si placet, quem mollem, quem voluptarium dicimus. quid? is tibi mortemne videtur aut dolorem timere, qui eum diem, quo moritur, beatum appellat maxumisque doloribus adfectus eos ipsos inventorum suorum memoria et recordatione confutat? nec haec sic agit, ut ex tempore quasi effuttire videatur. de morte enim ita sentit, ut dissoluto animante sensum extinctum putet, quod autem sensu careat, nihil ad nos id iudicet pertinere. item in dolore certa habet quae sequatur, cuius magnitudinem brevitate consolatur, longinquitatem levitate.
How, after all, do those grandiloquent ones stand against these two things, which most torment us, better than Epicurus? And as for the other things that are reckoned evils — do not Epicurus and the rest of the philosophers seem prepared enough against them too? Who does not dread poverty? Yet not one of the philosophers does. And this very man himself — with how little is he content! No one has said more about a thin diet. For the things that bring on a craving for money — that there be means enough to supply love, ambition, and daily expenses — since he stands far off from all of these, why should he greatly long for money, or rather, why should he care for it at all?
qui tandem isti grandiloqui contra haec duo, quae maxime angunt, melius se habent quam Epicurus? An ad cetera, quae mala putantur, non et Epicurus et reliqui philosophi satis parati videntur? quis non paupertatem extimescit? neque tamen quisquam philosophorum. hic vero ipse quam parvo est contentus! nemo de tenui victu plura dixit. etenim, quae res pecuniae cupiditatem adferunt, ut amori, ut ambitioni, ut cotidianis sumptibus copiae suppetant, cum procul ab his omnibus rebus absit, cur pecuniam magnopere desideret vel potius cur curet omnino?
Could the Scythian Anacharsis count money as nothing, and our own countrymen, the philosophers, not be able to do it? A letter of his is handed down in these words: Anacharsis to Hanno, greetings. My clothing is a Scythian hide, the soles of my feet their own hardened skin, my bed the earth, my relish hunger; I live on milk, cheese, and meat. So you may come to me as to a man at peace. But those gifts of yours, in which you took such delight, give them to your fellow citizens or to the immortal gods. Nearly all the philosophers of every school — except those whom a flawed nature had twisted away from right reason — could be of this same mind.
an Scythes Anacharsis potuit pro nihilo pecuniam ducere, nostrates philosophi facere non poterunt? illius epistula fertur his verbis: Anacharsis Hannoni salutem. Mihi amictui est Scythicum tegimen, calciamentum solorum callum, cubile terra, pulpamentum fames, lacte caseo carne vescor. quare ut ad quietum me licet venias. munera autem ista, quibus es delectatus, vel civibus tuis vel diis inmortalibus dona. omnes fere philosophi omnium disciplinarum, nisi quos a recta ratione natura vitiosa detorsisset, eodem hoc animo esse potuerunt.
Socrates, when a great mass of gold and silver was being carried past in a procession, said: "How many things there are that I do not want!" Xenocrates, when envoys from Alexander had brought him fifty talents — a sum that in those days, and at Athens above all, was very large — took the envoys off to dinner in the Academy; he set before them just so much as was enough, with no display. When on the next day they asked him to whom he wished the money paid out, he said: "What? Did you not understand from yesterday’s modest little supper that I have no need of money?" And seeing that they looked rather downcast, he accepted thirty minas, so as not to seem to scorn the king’s generosity.
Socrates, in pompa cum magna vis auri argentique ferretur, quam multa non desidero! inquit. Xenocrates, cum legati ab Alexandro quinquaginta ei talenta attulissent, quae erat pecunia temporibus illis, Athenis praesertim, maxuma, abduxit legatos ad cenam in Academiam; is apposuit tantum, quod satis esset, nullo apparatu. cum postridie rogarent eum, cui numerari iuberet, quid? vos hesterna inquit cenula non intellexistis me pecunia non egere? quos cum tristioris vidisset, triginta minas accepit, ne aspernari regis liberalitatem videretur.
But Diogenes spoke more freely, as a Cynic should: when Alexander asked him to say if he wanted anything, "Just now," he said, "move a little out of my sun." Alexander had, it seems, blocked the light as he was warming himself. And this man used to argue how far he surpassed the king of the Persians in his life and his fortune: that he himself lacked nothing, while for the king nothing would ever be enough; that he did not crave the king’s pleasures, with which the king could never be satisfied, whereas the king could in no way attain his own. You see, I imagine, how Epicurus divided the kinds of cravings — not too subtly, perhaps, but usefully all the same:
at vero Diogenes liberius, ut Cynicus, Alexandro roganti, ut diceret, si quid opus esset, nunc quidem paululum inquit a sole. offecerat videlicet apricanti. et hic quidem disputare solebat, quanto regem Persarum vita fortunaque superaret; sibi nihil deesse, illi nihil satis umquam fore; se eius voluptates non desiderare, quibus numquam satiari ille posset, suas eum consequi nullo modo posse. Vides, credo, ut Epicurus cupiditatum genera diviserit, non nimis fortasse subtiliter, utiliter tamen:
some are natural and necessary, some natural and not necessary, some neither; the necessary ones can be satisfied at almost no cost — for nature’s riches are easily come by; the second kind of cravings, he holds, are neither hard to gratify nor hard to go without; the third kind, since they were plainly empty and touched neither necessity nor even nature, he thought should be thrown out root and branch.
partim esse naturales et necessarias, partim naturales et non necessarias, partim neutrum; necessarias satiari posse paene nihilo; divitias enim naturae esse parabiles; secundum autem genus cupiditatum nec ad potiendum difficile esse censet nec vero ad carendum; tertias, quod essent plane inanes neque necessitatem modo, sed ne naturam quidem attingerent, funditus eiciendas putavit.
On this point the Epicureans say a great deal, and they belittle one by one those pleasures whose kinds they do not despise, yet whose abundance they do not seek. For even the pleasures of the flesh, on which they hold forth at length, they call easy, common, set out for all in plain reach; and they hold that, if nature requires them, they are to be measured not by family or place or rank, but by good looks, youth, and figure; that to abstain from them is by no means difficult, if health or duty or reputation demands it; and that this whole class of pleasures is, in short, desirable when it does no harm, but never beneficial.
hoc loco multa ab Epicureis disputantur, eaeque voluptates singillatim extenuantur, quarum genera non contemnunt, non quaerunt tamen copiam. nam et obscenas voluptates, de quibus multa ab illis habetur oratio, facilis communis in medio sitas esse dicunt, easque si natura requirat, non genere aut loco aut ordine, sed forma aetate figura metiendas putant, ab isque abstinere minime esse difficile, si aut valetudo aut officium aut fama postulet, omninoque genus hoc voluptatum optabile esse, si non obsit, prodesse numquam.
And on this whole matter of pleasure his teaching is this: that pleasure itself, in and of itself, because it is pleasure, is always to be desired and sought after, and that by the same reasoning pain, for that very reason, because it is pain, is always to be fled; and so the wise man will employ a kind of balancing, fleeing a pleasure if it is going to produce a greater pain, and taking on a pain if it produces a greater pleasure; and that all delights, though they are judged by the senses of the body, are nonetheless referred back to the mind.
Totumque hoc de voluptate sic ille praecipit, ut voluptatem ipsam per se, quia voluptas sit, semper optandam et expetendam putet, eademque ratione dolorem ob id ipsum, quia dolor sit, semper esse fugiendum; itaque hac usurum compensatione sapientem, ut et voluptatem fugiat, si ea maiorem dolorem effectura sit, et dolorem suscipiat maiorem efficientem voluptatem; omniaque iucunda, quamquam sensu corporis iudicentur, ad animum referri tamen.
For this reason the body rejoices only so long as it feels the pleasure present to it, while the mind both perceives the present pleasure together with the body and looks ahead to the one that is coming, and does not let the past one slip away. Thus the wise man will always have unbroken, interwoven pleasures, since the expectation of pleasures hoped for is joined to the memory of pleasures already enjoyed.
quocirca corpus gaudere tam diu, dum praesentem sentiret voluptatem, animum et praesentem percipere pariter cum corpore et prospicere venientem nec praeteritam praeterfluere sinere. ita perpetuas et contextas voluptates in sapiente fore semper, cum expectatio speratarum voluptatum cum perceptarum memoria iungeretur.
And points like these are carried over to the matter of diet as well, and the magnificence and extravagance of banquets is belittled, on the ground that nature is content with little upkeep. For who does not see that all such things are seasoned by appetite? Darius, in his flight, when he had drunk water that was muddy and fouled with corpses, declared that he had never drunk anything more pleasant. He had simply never drunk while thirsty before. Nor had Ptolemy ever eaten while hungry: when, as he was traveling across Egypt and his companions had not kept up with him, he was given coarse bread in a hut, nothing seemed to him more pleasant than that bread. They say that Socrates, when he had walked rather briskly until evening and was asked why he was doing it, replied that he was foraging up an appetite by walking, so as to dine the better.
Atque his similia ad victum etiam transferuntur, extenuaturque magnificentia et sumptus epularum, quod parvo cultu natura contenta sit. etenim quis hoc non videt, desideriis omnia ista condiri? Darius in fuga cum aquam turbidam et cadaveribus inquinatam bibisset, negavit umquam se bibisse iucundius. numquam videlicet sitiens biberat. nec esuriens Ptolomaeus ederat; cui cum peragranti Aegyptum comitibus non consecutis cibarius in casa panis datus esset, nihil visum est illo pane iucundius. Socraten ferunt, cum usque ad vesperum contentius ambularet quaesitumque esset ex eo, quare id faceret, respondisse se, quo melius cenaret, obsonare ambulando famem.
And again — do we not see the diet of the Spartans at their common messes? There the tyrant Dionysius, when he had dined, declared that he took no delight in that black broth which was the centerpiece of the meal. Then the man who had cooked it said: "No wonder; the seasonings were missing." "What seasonings, pray?" he asked. "Toil in the hunt, sweat, a run to the Eurotas, hunger, thirst. For it is by these that the meals of the Spartans are seasoned." And this can be understood not from the way of men alone, but from the beasts as well, which, whenever something is set before them that is not foreign to their nature, are content with it and seek nothing more.
quid? victum Lacedaemoniorum in philitiis nonne videmus? ubi cum tyrannus cenavisset Dionysius, negavit se iure illo nigro, quod cenae caput erat, delectatum. tum is qui illa coxerat: minime mirum; condimenta enim defuerunt. quae tandem? inquit ille. labor in venatu, sudor, cursus ad Eurotam, fames, sitis. his enim rebus Lacedaemoniorum epulae condiuntur. atque hoc non ex hominum more solum, sed etiam ex bestiis intellegi potest, quae, ut quicquid obiectum est, quod modo a natura non sit alienum, eo contentae non quaerunt amplius.
Whole communities, schooled by custom, take delight in thrift, as we said a little while ago of the Spartans. The diet of the Persians is set out by Xenophon, who says that to their bread they add nothing but cress. And yet, if nature should desire certain things more agreeable as well, how many such are produced from the earth and the trees, both in easy abundance and of surpassing sweetness! Add the leanness that follows upon this restraint in diet, add the soundness of health; then compare the men who sweat and belch, stuffed with banquets like fattened cattle:
civitates quaedam universae more doctae parsimonia delectantur, ut de Lacedaemoniis paulo ante diximus. Persarum a Xenophonte victus exponitur, quos negat ad panem adhibere quicquam praeter nasturcium. quamquam, si quaedam etiam suaviora natura desideret, quam multa ex terra arboribusque gignuntur cum copia facili, tum suavitate praestanti! adde siccitatem, quae consequitur hanc continentiam in victu, adde integritatem valetudinis; confer sudantis ructantis refertos epulis tamquam opimos boves:
you will understand then that those who pursue pleasure most attain it least, and that the pleasantness of a diet lies in appetite, not in being sated. They say that Timotheus, a famous man at Athens and a leader of the state, when he had dined at Plato’s and had been quite delighted with the meal, said on seeing him the next day: "Your dinners, to be sure, are pleasant not only at the moment but the day after as well." And what of the fact that we cannot even use our minds properly when we are filled with too much food and drink? There is a celebrated letter of Plato’s to the kinsmen of Dion, in which it is written more or less in these words: "When I had come there, that life called happy, full of Italian and Syracusan tables, in no way pleased me — to be stuffed twice a day and never to spend a night alone, and all the rest that accompanies a life in which no one will ever be made wise, and a man of moderation far less. For what nature can be so marvelously tempered?"
tum intelleges, qui voluptatem maxime sequantur, eos minime consequi, iucunditatemque victus esse in desiderio, non in satietate. Timotheum, clarum hominem Athenis et principem civitatis, ferunt, cum cenavisset apud Platonem eoque convivio admodum delectatus esset vidissetque eum postridie, dixisse: vestrae quidem cenae non solum in praesentia, sed etiam postero die iucundae sunt. quid quod ne mente quidem recte uti possumus multo cibo et potione completi? est praeclara epistula Platonis ad Dionis propinquos, in qua scriptum est his fere verbis: quo cum venissem, vita illa beata, quae ferebatur, plena Italicarum Syracusiarumque mensarum, nullo modo mihi placuit, bis in die saturum fieri nec umquam pernoctare solum ceteraque, quae comitantur huic vitae, in qua sapiens nemo efficietur umquam, moderatus vero multo minus. quae enim natura tam mirabiliter temperari potest?
How, then, can a life be pleasant from which good sense is absent, from which moderation is absent? From this the folly of Sardanapalus, the richest king of Syria, is laid bare, who ordered to be cut on his tomb: What I ate I have, and what my glutted lust drank up; but those many splendid things lie left behind. "What else," says Aristotle, "would you inscribe on the tomb of an ox rather than of a king?" He says that, dead, he has those things which, even alive, he had no longer than he was enjoying them.
quo modo igitur iucunda vita potest esse, a qua absit prudentia, absit moderatio? ex quo Sardanapalli, opulentissimi Syriae regis, error adgnoscitur, qui incidi iussit in busto: Haec habeo, quae edi, quaeque exsaturata libido Hausit; at illa iacent multa et praeclara relicta. quid aliud inquit Aristoteles in bovis, non in regis sepulcro inscriberes? haec habere se mortuum dicit, quae ne vivus quidem diutius habebat quam fruebatur.
Why, then, should riches be longed for, or where does poverty not permit men to be happy? You are keen, I suppose, on statues and paintings. If there is anyone who delights in these, do not men of slender means enjoy them better than those who have them in abundance? For of all such things there is in our city the greatest supply in public places. Those who own them privately neither see so many of them, and see them rarely, only when they have come to their country estates; and even so something pricks them, when they recall from where they have them. The day would fail me, were I to undertake to plead the case of poverty. The matter is plain, and nature herself reminds us daily how few, how small, how cheap are the things she needs. Will obscurity, then, or low birth, or even the disfavor of the crowd, keep the wise man from being happy?
Cur igitur divitiae desiderentur, aut ubi paupertas beatos esse non sinit? signis, credo, tabulis studes. si quis est qui his delectetur, nonne melius tenues homines fruuntur quam illi qui is abundant? est enim earum rerum omnium in nostra urbe summa in publico copia. quae qui privatim habent, nec tam multa et raro vident, cum in sua rura venerunt; quos tamen pungit aliquid, cum, illa unde habeant, recordantur. dies deficiat, si velim paupertatis causam defendere. aperta enim res est, et cotidie nos ipsa natura admonet, quam paucis, quam parvis rebus egeat, quam vilibus. Num igitur ignobilitas aut humilitas aut etiam popularis offensio sapientem beatum esse prohibebit?
Consider whether favor with the crowd and this glory that men strive for do not bring more vexation than pleasure. Our Demosthenes was decidedly vain, who said that he was delighted by the whisper of a little woman carrying water — as the custom is in Greece — murmuring to her neighbor: "That is the famous Demosthenes." What could be more trifling than this? And yet what an orator! But he had clearly learned to speak before others, not much with himself.
vide ne plus commendatio in vulgus et haec, quae expetitur, gloria molestiae habeat quam voluptatis. leviculus sane noster Demosthenes, qui illo susurro delectari se dicebat aquam ferentis mulierculae, ut mos in Graecia est, insusurrantisque alteri: hic est ille Demosthenes. quid hoc levius? at quantus orator! sed apud alios loqui videlicet didicerat, non multum ipse secum.
We must understand, then, that popular glory is not in itself to be sought, nor obscurity to be dreaded. "I came to Athens," says Democritus, "and no one there recognized me" — a steady and serious man, who could glory in having been free of glory! Or shall pipers and those who play the lyre tune their melodies and rhythms by their own judgment, not the multitude’s, while the wise man, endowed with a far greater art, will seek out not what is truest but what the crowd wants? Or is there anything more foolish than to suppose that men who, taken one by one, you would despise as laborers and barbarians, amount to something taken all together? He, in truth, will despise our ambitions and our frivolities, and will reject the honors of the people even when they are offered unasked; but we do not know how to despise them until we have begun to regret them. There is a passage in Heraclitus the natural philosopher about Hermodorus, the foremost man of the Ephesians;
intellegendum est igitur nec gloriam popularem ipsam per sese expetendam nec ignobilitatem extimescendam. veni Athenas inquit Democritus neque me quisquam ibi adgnovit. constantem hominem et gravem, qui glorietur a gloria se afuisse! an tibicines ique, qui fidibus utuntur, suo, non multitudinis arbitrio cantus numerosque moderantur, vir sapiens multo arte maiore praeditus non quid verissimum sit, sed quid velit vulgus, exquiret? an quicquam stultius quam, quos singulos sicut operarios barbarosque contemnas, eos aliquid putare esse universos? ille vero nostras ambitiones levitatesque contemnet honoresque populi etiam ultro delatos repudiabit; nos autem eos nescimus, ante quam paenitere coepit, contemnere. est apud Heraclitum physicum de principe Ephesiorum Hermodoro;
he says that all the Ephesians deserve to be put to death, because, when they drove Hermodorus from the city, they spoke thus: "Let no single one of us stand out; if anyone does, let him be in another place and among other men." Does this not happen so among every people? Do they not hate all preeminence in virtue? What of Aristides — for I prefer to bring forward examples from the Greeks rather than our own — was he not banished from his country for this very reason, that he was just beyond measure? How free, then, from vexations are those who have no dealings at all with the people! For what is sweeter than a leisure given to letters? — letters, I mean, by which we come to know the boundlessness of things and of nature, and, within this very world of ours, the heaven, the lands, the seas. With honor scorned, then, and money scorned as well, what is left that should be dreaded?
universos ait Ephesios esse morte multandos, quod, cum civitate expellerent Hermodorum, ita locuti sint: nemo de nobis unus excellat; sin quis extiterit, alio in loco et apud alios sit. an hoc non ita fit omni in populo? nonne omnem exsuperantiam virtutis oderunt? quid? Aristides—malo enim Graecorum quam nostra proferre—nonne ob eam causam expulsus est patria, quod praeter modum iustus esset? quantis igitur molestiis vacant, qui nihil omnino cum populo contrahunt! quid est enim dulcius otio litterato? is dico litteris, quibus infinitatem rerum atque naturae et in hoc ipso mundo caelum terras maria cognoscimus. Contempto igitur honore, contempta etiam pecunia quid relinquitur quod extimescendum sit?
Exile, I suppose — which is reckoned among the greatest evils. But if it is an evil on account of the hostility and ill will of the people toward another man, how worthy of contempt that is has just been said a moment ago. And if it is wretched to be away from one’s country, the provinces are full of wretched men, of whom very few ever return home.
exilium, credo, quod in maxumis malis ducitur. id si propter alienam et offensam populi voluntatem malum est, quam sit ea contemnenda, sicut a paulo ante dictum est. sin abesse patria miserum est, plenae miserorum provinciae sunt, ex quibus admodum pauci in patriam revertuntur.
"But exiles are stripped of their goods." What of it? Has not enough been said about enduring poverty? And as for exile itself, if we look to the nature of the thing and not to the disgrace of the name, how much, after all, does it differ from a perpetual residence abroad? In such a life the most distinguished philosophers spent their days — Xenocrates, Crantor, Arcesilas, Lacydes, Aristotle, Theophrastus, Zeno, Cleanthes, Chrysippus, Antipater, Carneades, Clitomachus, Philo, Antiochus, Panaetius, Posidonius, and countless others, who once they had set out never returned home. But exile carries disgrace, you say. Can exile touch the wise man with disgrace? For this whole discourse is about the wise man, on whom it cannot justly fall; and there is no need to console one who is justly exiled.
’at multantur bonis exules’. quid tum? parumne multa de toleranda paupertate dicuntur? iam vero exilium, si rerum naturam, non ignominiam nominis quaerimus, quantum tandem a perpetua peregrinatione differt? in qua aetates suas philosophi nobilissimi consumpserunt, Xenocrates Crantor Arcesilas Lacydes Aristoteles Theophrastus Zeno Cleanthes Chrysippus Antipater Carneades Clitomachus Philo Antiochus Panaetius Posidonius, innumerabiles alii, qui semel egressi numquam domum reverterunt. at enim sine ignominia. an potest exilium ignominia adficere sapientem? de sapiente enim haec omnis oratio est, cui iure id accidere non possit; nam iure exulantem consolari non oportet.
Lastly, those who refer to pleasure everything that comes about in life have the readiest reckoning for every circumstance, since wherever pleasure is supplied, there they can live happily. And so the saying of Teucer can be adapted to every situation: My country is wherever it goes well with me. Socrates indeed, when he was asked what country he claimed as his own, said, "The world"; for he held himself to be an inhabitant and a citizen of the whole world. And what of Titus Albucius? Did he not philosophize at Athens, an exile, with the most untroubled spirit? Yet even that would not have befallen him, had he kept quiet in public life and obeyed the precepts of Epicurus.
postremo ad omnis casus facillima ratio est eorum, qui ad voluptatem ea referunt quae secuntur in vita, ut, quocumque haec loco suppeditetur, ibi beate queant vivere. itaque ad omnem rationem Teucri vox accommodari potest: Pa/tria est, ubicumque e/st bene. Socrates quidem cum rogaretur, cuiatem se esse diceret, mundanum inquit; totius enim mundi se incolam et civem arbitrabatur. quid? T. Albucius nonne animo aequissimo Athenis exul philosophabatur? cui tamen illud ipsum non accidisset, si in re p. quiescens Epicuri legibus paruisset.
For how was Epicurus the happier because he lived in his own country, than Metrodorus because he lived at Athens? Or did Plato surpass Xenocrates, or Polemo Arcesilas, in being any happier for it? And how much is that state to be valued from which good and wise men are driven out? Damaratus, indeed, the father of our king Tarquin, because he could not endure the tyrant Cypselus, fled from Corinth to Tarquinii, and there established his fortunes and begot children. Did he choose foolishly when he preferred the freedom of exile to servitude at home?
qui enim beatior Epicurus, quod in patria vivebat, quam, quod Athenis, Metrodorus? aut Plato Xenocratem vincebat aut Polemo Arcesilam, quo esset beatior? quanti vero ista civitas aestimanda est, ex qua boni sapientesque pelluntur? Damaratus quidem, Tarquinii nostri regis pater, tyrannum Cypselum quod ferre non poterat, fugit Tarquinios Corintho et ibi suas fortunas constituit ac liberos procreavit. num stulte anteposuit exilii libertatem domesticae servituti?
Furthermore, the agitations of the mind, its anxieties and its griefs, are soothed by forgetfulness when minds are drawn off toward pleasure. Not without reason, then, did Epicurus venture to say that the wise man is always in the midst of more goods, because he is always in the midst of pleasures. From which he thinks it follows — the very thing we are after — that the wise man is always happy.
Iam vero motus animi, sollicitudines aegritudinesque oblivione leniuntur traductis animis ad voluptatem. non sine causa igitur Epicurus ausus est dicere semper in pluribus bonis esse sapientem, quia semper sit in voluptatibus. ex quo effici putat ille, quod quaerimus, ut sapiens semper beatus sit.
"Even if he is robbed of the use of his eyes, or his ears?" Even then; for those very things he despises. For, first of all, of what pleasures, after all, does that dreaded blindness deprive him? Some even argue that the other pleasures reside in the senses themselves, but that the things perceived by sight have no dealings with any delight of the eyes; so that what we taste, smell, handle, and hear are dealt with in that very part where we perceive them. With the eyes nothing of the sort happens: the mind takes in what we see. But the mind can be delighted in many and various ways, even when sight is not brought to bear. For I am speaking of a learned and cultivated man, for whom to live is to think. And the wise man’s thought does not, as a rule, call in the eyes as helpers for its inquiries.
’etiamne, si sensibus carebit oculorum, si aurium?’ etiam; nam ista ipsa contemnit. primum enim horribilis ista caecitas quibus tandem caret voluptatibus? cum quidam etiam disputent ceteras voluptates in ipsis habitare sensibus, quae autem aspectu percipiantur, ea non versari in oculorum ulla iucunditate, ut ea, quae gustemus olfaciamus tractemus audiamus, in ea ipsa, ubi sentimus, parte versentur. in oculis tale nil fit; animus accipit, quae videmus. animo autem multis modis variisque delectari licet, etiamsi non adhibeatur aspectus. loquor enim de docto homine et erudito, cui vivere est cogitare. sapientis autem cogitatio non ferme ad investigandum adhibet oculos advocatos.
For indeed, if night does not take away the happy life, why should a day like night take it away? For that saying of Antipater of Cyrene is a little too coarse, but the thought is not absurd: when some women were lamenting his blindness, he said, "What are you about? Does no pleasure seem to you to belong to the night?" That old Appius, too, who was blind for many years — we understand from his offices and his achievements that in that misfortune of his he failed in no duty either private or public. We have it on record that the house of Gaius Drusus used to be thronged with men seeking his counsel; when those whose business it was could not see their own affairs, they took a blind man for their guide. When we were boys, Gnaeus Aufidius, a former praetor, used to deliver his opinion in the Senate, was never wanting to friends seeking his advice, wrote a history in Greek, and saw with his letters.
etenim si nox non adimit vitam beatam, cur dies nocti similis adimat? nam illud Antipatri Cyrenaici est quidem paulo obscenius, sed non absurda sententia est; cuius caecitatem cum mulierculae lamentarentur, quid agitis? inquit, an vobis nulla videtur voluptas esse nocturna? Appium quidem veterem illum, qui caecus annos multos fuit, et ex magistratibus et ex rebus gestis intellegimus in illo suo casu nec privato nec publico muneri defuisse. C. Drusi domum compleri a consultoribus solitam accepimus; cum, quorum res esset, sua ipsi non videbant, caecum adhibebant ducem. pueris nobis Cn. Aufidius praetorius et in senatu sententiam dicebat nec amicis deliberantibus deerat et Graecam scribebat historiam et videbat in litteris.
Diodotus the Stoic lived in our house for many years, blind. He, indeed — a thing scarcely credible — applied himself to philosophy far more assiduously even than before, played the lyre after the manner of the Pythagoreans, had books read to him night and day, and for these studies had no need of eyes; and, what seems scarcely possible to be done without eyes, he kept up the work of geometry, instructing his pupils in words from where to where they should draw each line. They tell of Asclepiades, no obscure philosopher of Eretria, that when someone asked what blindness had brought him, he answered: that he went about with one boy more in his train. For just as even the extreme of poverty would be bearable, if a man were allowed what some Greeks earn day by day, so blindness could be borne easily, if the supports for one’s infirmities were not lacking.
Diodotus Stoicus caecus multos annos nostrae domi vixit. is vero, quod credibile vix esset, cum in philosophia multo etiam magis assidue quam antea versaretur et cum fidibus Pythagoreorum more uteretur cumque ei libri noctes et dies legerentur, quibus in studiis oculis non egebat, tum, quod sine oculis fieri posse vix videtur, geometriae munus tuebatur verbis praecipiens discentibus, unde quo quamque lineam scriberent. Asclepiadem ferunt, non ignobilem Eretricum philosophum, cum quidam quaereret, quid ei caecitas attulisset, respondisse, puero ut uno esset comitatior. ut enim vel summa paupertas tolerabilis sit, si liceat quod quibusdam Graecis cotidie, sic caecitas ferri facile possit, si non desint subsidia valetudinum.
Democritus, having lost his sight, could not, to be sure, tell white from black; but good from bad, just from unjust, honorable from base, useful from useless, great from small, that he could; and without the variety of colors it was possible to live happily, but without the knowledge of things it was not. And this man held that the mind’s keen edge is even hindered by the sight of the eyes; and while others often could not see what lay before their feet, he ranged abroad through all infinity, halting at no farthest boundary. It is handed down too that Homer was blind; yet we look upon his painting, not his poetry. What region, what coast, what spot of Greece, what shape and form of battle, what battle-line, what fleet, what movements of men and of beasts has he not so vividly depicted that he made us see the very things he himself did not see? What then? Are we to suppose that Homer, or any learned man, was ever wanting in delight and pleasure of the mind?
Democritus luminibus amissis alba scilicet discernere et atra non poterat, at vero bona mala, aequa iniqua, honesta turpia, utilia inutilia, magna parva poterat, et sine varietate colorum licebat vivere beate, sine notione rerum non licebat. atque hic vir impediri etiam animi aciem aspectu oculorum arbitrabatur, et cum alii saepe, quod ante pedes esset, non viderent, ille in infinitatem omnem peregrinabatur, ut nulla in extremitate consisteret. traditum est etiam Homerum caecum fuisse; at eius picturam, non poësin videmus: quae regio, quae ora, qui locus Graeciae, quae species formaque pugnae, quae acies, quod remigium, qui motus hominum, qui ferarum non ita expictus est, ut, quae ipse non viderit, nos ut videremus, effecerit? quid ergo? aut Homero delectationem animi ac voluptatem aut cuiquam docto defuisse umquam arbitramur?
Or, were the matter not so, would Anaxagoras, or this same Democritus, have abandoned their fields and their patrimonies, and given themselves wholeheartedly to this divine delight of learning and inquiry? And so the augur Tiresias, whom the poets imagine as a wise man, they never bring on bewailing his blindness; whereas Homer, having made Polyphemus monstrous and savage, has him even converse with his ram and praise its good fortune, in that it could go where it pleased and reach what it pleased. And rightly so; for the Cyclops himself was no wiser than that ram.
aut, ni ita se res haberet, Anaxagoras aut hic ipse Democritus agros et patrimonia sua reliquissent, huic discendi quaerendique divinae delectationi toto se animo dedissent? itaque augurem Tiresiam, quem sapientem fingunt poëtae, numquam inducunt deplorantem caecitatem suam; at vero Polyphemum Homerus cum inmanem ferumque finxisset, cum ariete etiam conloquentem facit eiusque laudare fortunas, quod, qua vellet, ingredi posset et, quae vellet, attingere. recte hic quidem; nihilo enim erat ipse Cyclops quam aries ille prudentior.
In deafness, again, what evil is there, after all? Marcus Crassus was rather hard of hearing, but there was something more vexing to him — that he heard ill spoken of, even if, as it seemed to me, unjustly. Our Epicureans, for the most part, know no Greek, nor the Greeks Latin. These men, then, are deaf to the speech of those, and those to the speech of these; and likewise all of us are surely deaf to those tongues we do not understand, which are beyond counting. But the deaf do not hear the voice of the lyre-player. Neither do they hear the screech of the saw when it is being sharpened, nor the grunting of a pig when its throat is cut, nor, when they wish to rest, the roar of the murmuring sea; and if songs perhaps delight them, they ought first to reflect that, before these were invented, many wise men lived happily, and then, that far greater pleasure can be drawn from reading such things than from hearing them.
In surditate vero quidnam est mali? erat surdaster M. Crassus, sed aliud molestius, quod male audiebat, etiamsi, ut mihi videbatur, iniuria. Epicurei nostri Graece fere nesciunt nec Graeci Latine. ergo hi in illorum et illi in horum sermone surdi, omnesque item nos in is linguis quas non intellegimus, quae sunt innumerabiles, surdi profecto sumus. at vocem citharoedi non audiunt. ne stridorem quidem serrae, tum cum acuitur, aut grunditum, cum iugulatur, suis nec, cum quiescere volunt, fremitum murmurantis maris; et si cantus eos forte delectant, primum cogitare debent, ante quam hi sint inventi, multos beate vixisse sapientes, deinde multo maiorem percipi posse legendis his quam audiendis voluptatem.
Then, just as a little while ago we drew the blind across to the pleasure of the ears, so we may draw the deaf across to that of the eyes. For indeed, the man who can converse with himself will not require another’s talk. But let everything be heaped together at once, so that the same man is bereft of both eyes and ears, and let him be crushed besides by the sharpest pains of the body. These, in the first place, generally make an end of a man by themselves; but if perhaps, drawn out by their long duration, they torment him more violently than there is any reason why he should bear them — what is there, after all, good gods, that we should trouble ourselves over? For the harbor is at hand, since death is the same haven there, the eternal refuge of feeling nothing.
tum, ut paulo ante caecos ad aurium traducebamus voluptatem, sic licet surdos ad oculorum. etenim, qui secum loqui poterit, sermonem alterius non requiret. Congerantur in unum omnia, ut idem oculis et auribus captus sit, prematur etiam doloribus acerrumis corporis. qui primum per se ipsi plerumque conficiunt hominem; sin forte longinquitate producti vehementius tamen torquent, quam ut causa sit cur ferantur, quid est tandem, dii boni, quod laboremus? portus enim praesto est, quoniam mors †ibidem est, aeternum nihil sentiendi receptaculum.
Theodorus, when Lysimachus threatened him with death, said, "A great thing indeed you have accomplished, if you have come by the power of a blister-beetle." Paulus, when Perseus begged not to be led in the triumph, said, "That, at least, is in your own power." Much was said on the first day, when we were inquiring into death itself, and not a little on the day after as well, when pain was the subject, about death; and whoever calls these things to mind can hardly be in any danger of not judging death either something to be wished for or, at the very least, not to be feared. To me, indeed, that rule which holds at the banquets of the Greeks seems one to keep in life: "Let him drink," it says, "or let him go." And rightly. For either let a man enjoy the pleasure of drinking equally with the rest, or let him withdraw beforehand, lest, while sober, he fall foul of the violence of the drunk. In the same way you may, by flight, leave behind the wrongs of fortune which you cannot bear. These same things that Epicurus says, Hieronymus says in just so many words.
Theodorus Lysimacho mortem minitanti magnum vero inquit effecisti, si cantharidis vim consecutus es, Paulus Persi deprecanti, ne in triumpho duceretur, in tua id quidem potestate est. multa primo die, cum de ipsa morte quaereremus, non pauca etiam postero, cum ageretur de dolore, sunt dicta de morte, quae qui recordetur, haud sane periculum est ne non mortem aut optandam aut certe non timendam putet. mihi quidem in vita servanda videtur illa lex, quae in Graecorum conviviis optinetur: aut bibat inquit aut abeat. et recte. aut enim fruatur aliquis pariter cum aliis voluptate potandi aut, ne sobrius in violentiam vinolentorum incidat, ante discedat. sic iniurias fortunae, quas ferre nequeas, defugiendo relinquas. Haec eadem, quae Epicurus, totidem verbis dicit Hieronymus.
But if those philosophers whose doctrine it is that virtue of itself has no power, and that everything we call honorable and praiseworthy they call empty and decked out with a hollow sound of words — if even they nonetheless judge the wise man always happy, what then ought to be thought right for the philosophers who set out from Socrates and Plato? Of these, some say there is so great a preeminence in the goods of the mind that the goods of the body and the external things are overwhelmed by them; while others do not even count these as goods at all, but lay everything up in the mind.
Quodsi is philosophis, quorum ea sententia est, ut virtus per se ipsa nihil valeat, omneque, quod honestum nos et laudabile esse dicamus, id illi cassum quiddam et inani vocis sono decoratum esse dicant,— si i tamen semper beatum censent esse sapientem, quid tandem a Socrate et Platone profectis philosophis faciendum videtur? quorum alii tantam praestantiam in bonis animi esse dicunt, ut ab is corporis et externa obruantur, alii autem haec ne bona quidem ducunt, in animo reponunt omnia.
It was the controversy between these that Carneades, like an honorary arbiter, was wont to decide. For since whatever goods the Peripatetics held seemed to the Stoics mere advantages, and yet the Peripatetics granted no more to riches, to good health, and to the rest of that kind than the Stoics did — when these things were weighed by their substance and not by words, he denied that there was any ground for the dispute. As for this point, how the philosophers of the other schools may maintain it, let them see to it themselves; for my part, I am glad that, concerning the wise man’s unbroken capacity for living well, they profess something worthy of a philosopher’s voice.
quorum controversiam solebat tamquam honorarius arbiter iudicare Carneades. nam cum, quaecumque bona Peripateticis, eadem Stoicis commoda viderentur neque tamen Peripatetici plus tribuerent divitiis bonae valetudini ceteris rebus generis eiusdem quam Stoici, cum ea re, non verbis ponderarentur, causam esse dissidendi negabat. quare hunc locum ceterarum disciplinarum philosophi quem ad modum optinere possint, ipsi viderint; mihi tamen gratum est, quod de sapientium perpetua bene vivendi facultate dignum quiddam philosophorum voce profitentur.
But since we must set out in the morning, let us gather up in memory these discussions of five days. For my part, I think I shall even commit them to writing — for where could we better use this leisure, of whatever sort it is? — and we shall send these second five books to our friend Brutus, by whom I was not only urged on to the writing of philosophy, but even challenged to it. In this work, how much good we shall do the rest of the world I could not easily say; but for my own most bitter griefs, and the manifold troubles besetting me on every side, no other relief could be found.
Sed quoniam mane est eundum, has quinque dierum disputationes memoria comprehendamus. equidem me etiam conscripturum arbitror—ubi enim melius uti possumus hoc, cuicuimodi est, otio?—, ad Brutumque nostrum hos libros alteros quinque mittemus, a quo non modo inpulsi sumus ad philosophiae scriptiones, verum etiam lacessiti. in quo quantum ceteris profuturi simus, non facile dixerim, nostris quidem acerbissimis doloribus variisque et undique circumfusis molestiis alia nulla potuit inveniri levatio.