Marcus Cornelius Fronto→Marcus Aurelius|c. 161 AD|Marcus Cornelius Fronto|From Rome (career hub)|To Rome (career hub)|AI-assisted
To Appian, from Fronto.
1. Even that man would be at no loss for plausible arguments who, in answer to the first of the propositions you have put forward, should object that private matters need not follow public ones. For we shall find many customs and laws established publicly in the cities and privately for each individual that are not alike. You could learn this by attending to the lawsuits and to the contests, both public and private; for in these neither the location of the courts, nor the number of those who sit in judgment, nor the order of the indictments and summonses, nor the measure of water [the time allotted to speakers, measured by the water-clock], nor the penalties imposed on those convicted, are the same; but public affairs differ as greatly as possible from private ones. Consider too that it befits a city to have its gates flung open, so that anyone who wishes may enter, and go out whenever he wishes; whereas, for each one of us private persons, unless the doorkeeper guards the doors and keeps thoroughly awake, barring from entry those who have no business there, and not permitting the household slaves to walk out freely whenever they please, the affairs of the house would not be kept in good order. And colonnades, groves, altars, gymnasia, and baths—the public ones stand open to all and free of charge, but those of private persons are kept under an iron key and a doorkeeper of some sort, and they collect a fee from those who bathe. Nor are private dinners and those in the town hall alike; nor is the private horse like the public one; nor the purple of the magistrates like that of the common people; nor the garland of roses from one's own home like that of the olive at Olympia.
2. But these points I think I shall let pass, and grant you that private matters must follow public ones. Yet, having granted this, I would not further grant [...] permit you to make use of it. What, then, was this point?—that one ought to receive from one's friends gifts that are great and worth much honor. In laying down this rule, you called as your example the fact that cities accept great gifts from one another, thereby appropriating to yourself the very thing in dispute, my dear friend. For I, who say that private persons ought not to receive great gifts from one another, would say this same thing about cities as well: that not even the cities ought to receive them. But you, taking it as already befitting the cities, bring it forward as proof that it befits private persons too. Yet you yourself would say that one ought not to demonstrate the point in question out of the very matters in dispute. And if you say this—that many cities receive such gifts—I would say that many private persons also receive such things; but our inquiry is whether they receive them rightly and fittingly. And this inquiry, beginning from private persons, extends also to the cities. This, then, if you act justly, you will set aside as still in dispute, this matter of the cities. For I do not suppose that you are unaware of this either: that most of the most renowned and best-governed cities did not accept great gifts—as the city of the Romans did not accept the many gifts often sent by very many; while the city of the Athenians, by exacting gifts heavier than was fitting, gained no great benefit thereby.
3. As for the example of the gods—that gods receive gifts and offerings—which you stated quite briefly, I shall try to dispose of it with equal speed. For it was not fitting that I should be worshiped with prostration either, being neither a god nor again a king of the Persians.
4. The most plausible point, by Zeus, was the one you brought forward about wills: why on earth, when we receive even great things from the dead by their wills, should we not accept such great things from the living? But you yourself supply the cause in advance. For those who bestow favors by their wills, as you say, prefer one person to another; from these, I grant, it is fitting to receive. But the living, as you say, prefer their friends, on whom they bestow favors, to themselves; and for this very reason I say that what is sent ought not to be accepted. For it is in truth a grievous thing, and arrogant, and tyrannical, truly, to accept such marks of preference, in which the one who honors another plainly dishonors himself and ranks himself below the one he honors. For I would not mount a horse from which someone had himself dismounted and gone on foot, asking me to ride; nor would I sit in the theater while another rose from his seat for me; nor would I accept a cloak in the season of winter, if someone, stripping himself, were to shiver while he clothed me. For each man is more closely bound to himself, and is more justly to be preferred by his own hand.
5. You say that guest-gifts are not sent to the gods. But are not the meal-cakes and the round cakes and the honey and the wine poured in libation and the milk and the entrails of the sacrificial victims guest-gifts? And the frankincense too is a guest-gift to a god.
6. So much in answer to the arguments you have put forward so cleverly and quite plausibly concerning public matters and divine matters and wills. Now let what I have to say be stated briefly: whatever it is shameless and greedy and grasping to ask for, these same things it is the mark of a man equally shameless and greedy and grasping to accept even from a willing giver. To ask for great things is shameless, but to accept them far more so; and it makes no difference whether one receives them from a giver who offers them or from one who refuses [...]: it lies not in the asking, but neither ought one to accept. Nor ought a man to choose such gifts as will prove those who send them poorer and render those who receive them richer. And both of these results are present in great gifts. At any rate, if property assessments were made, you, who sent these two boys [slaves], would declare a smaller estate, and I, who received them, would declare a larger one. For the number of two slaves is not to be despised, whether in the assessment of property, or in the exchange of estates, or in the registration for a levy, or in the payment of tribute.
7. He who sends gifts too heavy gives no less offense than one who sends a heavy throw against his fellow ball-player, or who pledges his fellow drinker with a huge cup; for he seems to pledge him toward drunkenness, not toward pleasure. And just as, in temperate drinking-parties, we see the wine mixed with very little neat wine but a great deal of water, so too gifts ought to be blended with much kindly feeling but the least possible expense. For to whom should we say that costly gifts are suited? To the poor? But they cannot send them. To the rich? But they have no need to receive them. To great gifts, then, continuity does not belong, or else a man must necessarily fall out of his possessions, if he should send great gifts and often. But to small gifts both continuity belongs and freedom from regret [...] for one who has sent small things to fulfill them.
8. You would agree to this too: that if a man procures praise for himself but deprives another of praise, he is not just. But you, by sending great gifts, procure praise for yourself as bestowing favors magnanimously, while you deprive me of praise by forcing me to accept them. For I too might seem magnanimous by not accepting things so great. But in small gifts the praise is equal: for the sender, that he did not neglect; for the receiver, that he did not disdain. And I would press the point, using the hard argument, that since you yourself would not have accepted this very gift had I sent it, how could I accept with pleasure the boys [slaves] sent from you? [...] It would have been Glaucus of old [...] [Glaucus, who in Homer's Iliad exchanged] gold armor for bronze, and the worth of a hundred oxen for that of nine. For the one who exchanges presents must of all necessity either send back in return things of far greater worth—and, with Homer as witness, seem to have had his wits stricken by Zeus—or, by sending back lesser things, act unjustly. The third and most just course is to requite what is sent with the same measure and with equal gifts; and the one who does this would be most like me, who am sending back the very things that were sent.
9. But let these things be said in jest, from a friend to his dearest friend. And to a foster-father [...] and reckoning [...] greater [...] will provide these very things.
? 157–161 A.D. 1. Even he would have no lack of plausible arguments who, in answer to the first of the propositions submitted by you, should object that private conduct ought not to conform to that of states. For we shall find many customs and usages publicly established in cities and privately practised by individuals to be dissimilar. You can easily convince yourself of this by looking at the litigation and disputes between public bodies and individuals, wherein neither the venue of the court nor the number of the judges nor the order of the pleas and summonses nor the allowance of time for the speakers nor the penalties of conviction are the same, but there is every difference between the public cases and the private. Again the gates of a city must be opened wide for any to enter at will and, when he will, to go out. But for each one of us as individuals, if his doorkeeper guard not his door and be ever on the watch, debarring from ingress those who have no business there, but on the other hand permitting the inmates to go out freely whenever they wish, the safeguarding of the house could not be properly effected. So also porticoes and groves and altars and gymnasia, and baths, if public ones, are thrown open free to all, but if private, are kept under strong lock and key with a door-keeper to boot, and a fee is exacted from the bathers. Nor yet are banquets in private houses and in the Town-Hall the same; nor a horse if it belong to a private person or to the state; nor the purple robe of the magistrate and of the townsman; nor the garland of home-grown roses and the wreath of olive at Olympia. 2. At the same time I think that I will waive this and concede to you that private conduct must needs conform to public. But conceding this, I would not go further and concede what you would fain persuade me of, that I must conform to it. I will explain what I mean. The point in dispute between us, I take it, was this, whether one ought to accept great and valuable gifts from friends. Justifying this, you pointed to the example of cities accepting great gifts one from another, taking for granted, my dear friend, the very point in dispute. For alleging as I do that individuals ought not to take great gifts from one another, I would say exactly the same of cities, that they ought not to take them either; but you, begging the question that this is right for cities, adduce it as a proof of what is right for individuals. You must admit that one ought not to prove the question at issue by means of the very points in dispute. But if you say that many states accept such gifts, I will answer that many individuals also accept them, but that the question is whether it is right and fit that they should accept them. And this question beginning with individuals extends to cities also. This point, therefore, I mean the action of cities, you must in all fairness leave on one side, as part of the question in dispute. For I take it you are not unaware that the majority of the most famous and well-ordered cities have never accepted great gifts; as, for example, the City of Rome has rejected many such many a time from very many senders, but Athens exacting heavier gifts than befitted was not at all benefited thereby. 3. As to your example from the Gods, that they receive gifts and offerings, which you touched on quite briefly, I will endeavour to dismiss it no less shortly. As I am neither God nor the Persian King, it was not fitting even to pay me homage. 4. The most plausible argument you brought forward, by heaven, was the one from wills—why is it that, when we take even large bequests under wills, we should not accept such from the living? The reason is suggested already by yourself. For those who benefit their friends in their wills prefer, as you say, one legatee to another: from them I admit that it is right to take. The living on the other hand prefer, as you say, the friends whom they benefit to themselves. For this very reason I say that what is offered should not be accepted. For it is in reality no light thing and savours, to tell the truth, of arrogance and tyranny to receive such marks of preference, wherein he, that does another honour, manifestly does himself dishonour, and sets him whom he has honoured above himself. For I would not even mount a horse, if the rider dismounting and going on foot asked me to ride; nor would I sit down in a theatre, if another gave up his seat to me; nor in wintry weather accept a man's cloak, if by stripping himself and shivering he kept me warmly wrapped. For each man is his own nearer concern and more deserving of honour at his own hands. 5. You say that trifling gifts are not sent to the Gods. What, are not these trifling gifts—the little barley-cakes and the honey and the libation-wine and the milk and the organs of the victims? Aye, and the frankincense is a trifling gift to a God. 6. So much for the propositions so cleverly and plausibly urged by you touching things public and things divine and touching wills. But for myself let me briefly say this: whatever it is shameless and greedy and covetous to ask for, it is no less characteristic of the shameless, the greedy, and the covetous man to accept even from a voluntary giver. To ask for big gifts is shameless, far more to accept them. And it is all one whether we take from a willing or a reluctant giver; for it is not right to ask, but it is not right to take either. Nor should a man accept such gifts as shall leave the sender poorer and render the receiver richer. And great gifts involve both these results. At any rate in the case of a property valuation, you who sent these two slaves would declare your property as less and I who received them as more. For the item of these two slaves is no negligible one, either in valuation of goods or in exchange of properties or in assessment for taxation or in payment of tribute. 7. He that sends too heavy a gift offends no less than he who sends his fellow ball-player too heavy a return or toasts his fellow guest with a big cup. For he would seem to toast him for debauch not for delight. But just as in temperate banquets we see the wine mixed in the proportion of a great deal of water to quite a little wine, so should gifts be a blend of much loving-kindness and very little outlay. For whom can we say that costly gifts befit? The poor? But they cannot send them. The rich? But they do not need them. Moreover, great gifts cannot be given continuously; or, if a man send great gifts and often, he must come to the end of his resources. But small gifts admit of being given continuously and with no compunction, since a man need make but a small acknowledgment to one who has sent a small gift. 8. This too you would confess, that a man acts unjustly, if he so acquire praise for himself as to rob another of his. But you in sending great gifts acquire to yourself praise for large-hearted generosity, but you rob me of praise by constraining me to accept favours. For I too might shew large-heartedness by refusing to accept such. But in small gifts the apportionment of praise is equal, in that the sender did not neglect to send, and the recipient did not disdain, the gift. But I would ask, pressing you perhaps rather hard, how can I receive with delight the slaves sent from you, whereas you would not have accepted an identical present, had I sent it? . . . . It would have been Glaucus of old over again . . . . "exchanging gold for bronze and a hundred oxen's worth for that of nine." For it is inevitable that the exchanger of presents should either send in return gifts of much greater value and, as Homer testifies, seem bereft of his senses by Zeus, or act inequitably by sending a meaner gift in return. The third and most equitable rule is to requite what is sent according to the same measure and with equal gifts. He that did this would be as like as possible to me, for I am sending back the very things that were sent. But enough of this pleasantry from a friend to a very dear friend. The cost of the keep of these slaves will now, if you calculate it, give you a little the best of the bargain
1. Even that man would be at no loss for plausible arguments who, in answer to the first of the propositions you have put forward, should object that private matters need not follow public ones. For we shall find many customs and laws established publicly in the cities and privately for each individual that are not alike. You could learn this by attending to the lawsuits and to the contests, both public and private; for in these neither the location of the courts, nor the number of those who sit in judgment, nor the order of the indictments and summonses, nor the measure of water [the time allotted to speakers, measured by the water-clock], nor the penalties imposed on those convicted, are the same; but public affairs differ as greatly as possible from private ones. Consider too that it befits a city to have its gates flung open, so that anyone who wishes may enter, and go out whenever he wishes; whereas, for each one of us private persons, unless the doorkeeper guards the doors and keeps thoroughly awake, barring from entry those who have no business there, and not permitting the household slaves to walk out freely whenever they please, the affairs of the house would not be kept in good order. And colonnades, groves, altars, gymnasia, and baths—the public ones stand open to all and free of charge, but those of private persons are kept under an iron key and a doorkeeper of some sort, and they collect a fee from those who bathe. Nor are private dinners and those in the town hall alike; nor is the private horse like the public one; nor the purple of the magistrates like that of the common people; nor the garland of roses from one's own home like that of the olive at Olympia.
2. But these points I think I shall let pass, and grant you that private matters must follow public ones. Yet, having granted this, I would not further grant [...] permit you to make use of it. What, then, was this point?—that one ought to receive from one's friends gifts that are great and worth much honor. In laying down this rule, you called as your example the fact that cities accept great gifts from one another, thereby appropriating to yourself the very thing in dispute, my dear friend. For I, who say that private persons ought not to receive great gifts from one another, would say this same thing about cities as well: that not even the cities ought to receive them. But you, taking it as already befitting the cities, bring it forward as proof that it befits private persons too. Yet you yourself would say that one ought not to demonstrate the point in question out of the very matters in dispute. And if you say this—that many cities receive such gifts—I would say that many private persons also receive such things; but our inquiry is whether they receive them rightly and fittingly. And this inquiry, beginning from private persons, extends also to the cities. This, then, if you act justly, you will set aside as still in dispute, this matter of the cities. For I do not suppose that you are unaware of this either: that most of the most renowned and best-governed cities did not accept great gifts—as the city of the Romans did not accept the many gifts often sent by very many; while the city of the Athenians, by exacting gifts heavier than was fitting, gained no great benefit thereby.
3. As for the example of the gods—that gods receive gifts and offerings—which you stated quite briefly, I shall try to dispose of it with equal speed. For it was not fitting that I should be worshiped with prostration either, being neither a god nor again a king of the Persians.
4. The most plausible point, by Zeus, was the one you brought forward about wills: why on earth, when we receive even great things from the dead by their wills, should we not accept such great things from the living? But you yourself supply the cause in advance. For those who bestow favors by their wills, as you say, prefer one person to another; from these, I grant, it is fitting to receive. But the living, as you say, prefer their friends, on whom they bestow favors, to themselves; and for this very reason I say that what is sent ought not to be accepted. For it is in truth a grievous thing, and arrogant, and tyrannical, truly, to accept such marks of preference, in which the one who honors another plainly dishonors himself and ranks himself below the one he honors. For I would not mount a horse from which someone had himself dismounted and gone on foot, asking me to ride; nor would I sit in the theater while another rose from his seat for me; nor would I accept a cloak in the season of winter, if someone, stripping himself, were to shiver while he clothed me. For each man is more closely bound to himself, and is more justly to be preferred by his own hand.
5. You say that guest-gifts are not sent to the gods. But are not the meal-cakes and the round cakes and the honey and the wine poured in libation and the milk and the entrails of the sacrificial victims guest-gifts? And the frankincense too is a guest-gift to a god.
6. So much in answer to the arguments you have put forward so cleverly and quite plausibly concerning public matters and divine matters and wills. Now let what I have to say be stated briefly: whatever it is shameless and greedy and grasping to ask for, these same things it is the mark of a man equally shameless and greedy and grasping to accept even from a willing giver. To ask for great things is shameless, but to accept them far more so; and it makes no difference whether one receives them from a giver who offers them or from one who refuses [...]: it lies not in the asking, but neither ought one to accept. Nor ought a man to choose such gifts as will prove those who send them poorer and render those who receive them richer. And both of these results are present in great gifts. At any rate, if property assessments were made, you, who sent these two boys [slaves], would declare a smaller estate, and I, who received them, would declare a larger one. For the number of two slaves is not to be despised, whether in the assessment of property, or in the exchange of estates, or in the registration for a levy, or in the payment of tribute.
7. He who sends gifts too heavy gives no less offense than one who sends a heavy throw against his fellow ball-player, or who pledges his fellow drinker with a huge cup; for he seems to pledge him toward drunkenness, not toward pleasure. And just as, in temperate drinking-parties, we see the wine mixed with very little neat wine but a great deal of water, so too gifts ought to be blended with much kindly feeling but the least possible expense. For to whom should we say that costly gifts are suited? To the poor? But they cannot send them. To the rich? But they have no need to receive them. To great gifts, then, continuity does not belong, or else a man must necessarily fall out of his possessions, if he should send great gifts and often. But to small gifts both continuity belongs and freedom from regret [...] for one who has sent small things to fulfill them.
8. You would agree to this too: that if a man procures praise for himself but deprives another of praise, he is not just. But you, by sending great gifts, procure praise for yourself as bestowing favors magnanimously, while you deprive me of praise by forcing me to accept them. For I too might seem magnanimous by not accepting things so great. But in small gifts the praise is equal: for the sender, that he did not neglect; for the receiver, that he did not disdain. And I would press the point, using the hard argument, that since you yourself would not have accepted this very gift had I sent it, how could I accept with pleasure the boys [slaves] sent from you? [...] It would have been Glaucus of old [...][Glaucus, who in Homer's Iliad exchanged] gold armor for bronze, and the worth of a hundred oxen for that of nine. For the one who exchanges presents must of all necessity either send back in return things of far greater worth—and, with Homer as witness, seem to have had his wits stricken by Zeus—or, by sending back lesser things, act unjustly. The third and most just course is to requite what is sent with the same measure and with equal gifts; and the one who does this would be most like me, who am sending back the very things that were sent.
9. But let these things be said in jest, from a friend to his dearest friend. And to a foster-father [...] and reckoning [...] greater [...] will provide these very things.
AI-assisted translation - This translation was produced with AI assistance and has not been peer-reviewed. See the 19th-century translation or original Latin/Greek below for scholarly use.