Letter 87

[1] I suffered shipwreck before I had even boarded ship. How it happened I will not add, lest you suppose that this too belongs among the Stoic paradoxes; none of which, I will prove to you whenever you like—indeed, even if you would rather I did not—is false, nor so astonishing as it seems at first glance. In the meantime, this journey has taught me how many superfluous things we possess, and how easily we could lay them aside by an act of judgment—for when necessity has carried them off at some point, we do not feel their loss. [2] With very few slaves, no more than a single carriage could hold, and with no possessions except those carried on our own bodies, my friend Maximus and I have now been spending two of the most blessed days. The mattress lies on the ground, and I lie on the mattress; of my two travelling-cloaks, one has been turned into a sheet to lie on, the other into a covering. [3] Nothing could be cut from our luncheon; it was prepared in not more than ~an hour~, never without dried figs, never without writing tablets. The figs, if I have bread, serve as a relish; if I have none, they serve as bread. Every day they make a New Year's Day for me, and I make that day blessed and happy by good thoughts and by greatness of soul—a soul that is never greater than when it has set aside what belongs to others and has made peace for itself by fearing nothing, has made riches for itself by craving nothing. [4] The carriage in which I have been placed is a rustic one; the mules prove they are alive only by walking; the muleteer goes unshod, and not on account of the summer heat. I can scarcely bring myself to want this carriage to look like mine: there still persists in me a perverse shame about what is right, and whenever we fall in with some more elegant company I blush against my will—which is proof that these principles I approve and praise do not yet have a fixed and unshakable seat within me. The man who blushes at a shabby carriage will boast in a costly one. [5] I have made too little progress so far: I do not yet dare to display my frugality openly; even now I worry about what fellow travellers think. Instead, I ought to have raised my voice against the opinions of the whole human race: 'You are mad, you are mistaken, you stand gaping at superfluous things, you appraise no man at his true worth. When it comes to property, you, the most painstaking of accountants, draw up a reckoning of each individual to whom you are going to lend either money or favors (for these too you now enter as expenditures): [6] he owns land far and wide, but he owes much; he has a handsome house, but it was got with other men's money; no one will quickly bring out a more impressive household of slaves, but he cannot meet his debts; if he pays off his creditors, he will have nothing left.' You will have to do the same in all other cases too, and sift out how much of his own each man actually has. [7] You think a man rich because his golden plate follows him even on the road, because he plows fields in every province, because a great ledger is unrolled for him, because he owns as much suburban land as it would be invidious for him to own in the wastes of Apulia: when you have said all this, he is poor. Why? Because he is in debt. 'How much?' you ask. Everything—unless perhaps you judge it makes a difference whether a man has borrowed from another man or from Fortune. [8] What do they amount to, the well-fed mules all of one color? What do those engraved carriages amount to? These things can make neither their master nor their mule any better. [9] Marcus Cato the Censor—whose birth was as much a benefit to the republic as Scipio's, for the one waged war against our enemies, the other against our morals—used to ride a gelding, and with saddlebags loaded on it at that, so that he could carry useful things with him. Oh how I should love some one of these present-day fops, these dandies, rich on the road, to meet him now—a fop with his couriers, his Numidians, and a great cloud of dust driven on before him! This man would no doubt seem more refined and better attended than Marcus Cato; this man who, amid all his dainty equipage, is at this very moment in doubt whether to hire himself out for the sword or for the knife [i.e. as a gladiator or a butcher—a contemptuous jibe]. [10] Oh what a glory of the age it was, that an imperator, a man who had triumphed, a censor, and—what is above all this—a Cato, should be content with a single nag, and not even with the whole of it; for part of it was taken up by the baggage hanging down on either side. Would you not, then, prefer that one horse, rubbed down by Cato's own hand, to all those plump ponies and Asturian palfreys and amblers? [11] I see there will be no end to this subject except the one I make for myself. So here I shall fall silent, at least about these things—which the man who first called them 'impediments' [baggage, encumbrances] no doubt foresaw would turn out exactly as they now are. Now I want to render to you a very few of our school's questions bearing on virtue, which we maintain is enough to make a happy life. [12] 'What is good makes men good (for in the art of music too, what is good makes a musician); chance things do not make a man good; therefore they are not goods.' Against this the Peripatetics reply by calling our first premise false. 'From what is good,' they say, 'men do not in every case become good. In music there is something good, such as a flute or a string or some instrument fitted for the purposes of playing; yet none of these makes a musician.' [13] To these men we shall reply: 'You do not understand in what sense we laid down what is good in music. For we do not mean that which equips the musician, but that which makes him: you are coming to the apparatus of the art, not to the art itself. But if anything in the art of music itself is good, that will certainly make a musician.' [14] Even now I want to make this plainer. The good in the art of music is spoken of in two ways: one by which the musician's performance is aided, the other by which the art is aided. To the performance belong the instruments—flutes and organs and strings; to the art itself they do not belong. For one is a craftsman even without these: he may perhaps not be able to practice his art. This duality is not the same in a human being; for the good of a man and the good of his life are one and the same. [15] 'What can fall to anyone, however despised and however vile, is not a good; but riches fall even to the pimp and the gladiator-trainer; therefore they are not goods.' 'What you set down is false,' they say; 'for in grammar too, and in the art of healing or of steering a ship, we see that goods fall to the lowliest of men.' [16] But those arts do not lay claim to greatness of soul; they do not rise to any height nor do they disdain chance things: it is virtue that lifts a man up and sets him above the things dear to mortals; and it neither craves too much nor dreads too much the things called good or the things called bad. Chelidon, one of Cleopatra's eunuchs, possessed a great estate. Recently Natalis—a man as foul in tongue as he was impure, in whose mouth women were cleansed [a grossly obscene insult]—was both heir to many and had many heirs. What of it, then? Did money make him impure, or did he himself befoul the money? Money falls upon certain men the way a coin drops into a sewer. [17] Virtue stands above such things; it is valued by its own coinage; it judges none of these random windfalls to be good. Medicine and navigation do not forbid themselves and their followers to marvel at such things; a man who is not good can nonetheless be a physician, can be a pilot, can be a grammarian—yes, by Hercules, just as well as he can be a cook. The man to whose lot it falls to possess something that is not of any random kind, you would not call a man of any random kind; each is the sort of thing that he possesses. [18] A strongbox is worth as much as it holds; or rather, what it holds comes in as an addition to it. Who sets any price on a full purse except the price made by the count of money stored in it? The same happens to the owners of great fortunes: they are mere additions and appendages to them. Why, then, is the wise man great? Because he has a great soul. It is true, then, that what falls to the most despised of men is not good. [19] Accordingly I will never call freedom from pain a good: the cicada has it, the flea has it. Nor will I call even rest and freedom from trouble a good: what is more at leisure than a worm? You ask what it is that makes a wise man? The same thing that makes a god. You must grant him something divine, heavenly, magnificent: the good does not fall to all, nor does it permit just any owner. [20] Behold [21] These things have been distributed by regions, so that there might be necessary commerce among mortals, each seeking in turn something from another. That highest good has its own dwelling-place too: it is not born where ivory is, nor where iron is. You ask where the place of the highest good is? The soul. Unless this is pure and holy, it has no room for god. [22] 'Good does not come from evil; but riches come from greed; therefore riches are not a good.' 'It is not true,' he says, 'that good is not born from evil; for money is born from sacrilege and theft. And so sacrilege and theft are indeed evil, but only because they do more evils than goods; for they yield gain, but along with fear, anxiety, and torments of mind and body.' [23] Whoever says this must necessarily admit that sacrilege, just as it is an evil because it does many evils, is also in some part a good, because it does some good—and what could be more monstrous than that? Although we have indeed thoroughly persuaded ourselves to count sacrilege, theft, and adultery among the goods. How many do not blush at theft, how many glory in adultery! For petty sacrileges are punished, but great ones are carried in triumphal processions. [24] Add now that sacrilege, if it is in any part good at all, will even be honorable and will be called rightly done—~for it is our own act~—which no mortal's reflection admits. Therefore goods cannot be born from evil. For if, as you say, sacrilege is evil for this one reason, that it brings much evil, then if you remit its punishments, if you guarantee it impunity, it will be wholly good. And yet the greatest punishment for crimes lies in the crimes themselves. [25] You are mistaken, I say, if you put those punishments off to the executioner or the prison: they are punished the moment they are done, indeed while they are being done. So good is not born from evil, any more than a fig from an olive: things born answer to their seed, and goods cannot degenerate. Just as the honorable is not born from the base, so neither is good born from evil; for the honorable and the good are the same thing. [26] Certain of our school reply to this as follows: 'Let us suppose that money is a good, from whatever source it is taken; even so, money is not for that reason from sacrilege, even if it is taken from sacrilege. Understand it this way. In the same jar there is both gold and a viper: if you take the gold from the jar, you do not take it for the reason that there is also a viper there; the jar, I say, does not give me the gold because it has a viper, but it gives gold although it also has a viper. In the same way gain comes from sacrilege, not because sacrilege is base and criminal, but because it has gain as well. Just as in that jar the viper is the evil, not the gold lying there with the viper, so in sacrilege the crime is the evil, not the gain.' [27] From these men I dissent; for the situation of the two cases is utterly unlike. There I can take the gold without the viper; here I cannot make the gain without the sacrilege. That gain is not set beside the crime but mixed into it. [28] 'What we fall into many evils while wanting to attain is not a good; but while wanting to attain riches we fall into many evils; therefore riches are not a good.' 'Your proposition,' he says, 'has two meanings: one, that while we want to attain riches we fall into many evils. But we fall into many evils while wanting to attain virtue too: one man, while sailing for the sake of study, was shipwrecked; another was taken captive. [29] The other meaning is this: that through which we fall into evils is not a good. It will not follow from this proposition that we fall into evils through riches or through pleasures; or, if through riches we fall into many evils, then riches are not merely not a good, they are an evil—yet you say only that they are not a good. Besides,' he says, 'you grant that riches have some use: you count them among the conveniences. And yet by the same reasoning they will not even be a convenience; for through them many inconveniences befall us.' [30] To these men some reply thus: 'You are mistaken, you who charge the inconveniences against riches. They harm no one: a man is harmed either by his own folly or by another's wickedness, just as a sword kills no one—it is the weapon of the one who kills. Riches do not harm you just because you are harmed on account of riches.' [31] Posidonius, in my judgment, puts it better: he says that riches are a cause of evils, not because they themselves do anything, but because they incite men who are going to do something. For one cause is the efficient cause, which necessarily harms at once; another is the antecedent cause. Riches have this antecedent cause: they puff up minds, breed pride, draw on envy, and so far derange the mind that the reputation of money delights us even when it is going to harm us. [32] But all goods ought to be free from blame; they are pure, they do not corrupt minds, they do not unsettle them; they do indeed lift up and enlarge, but without swelling. The things that are goods produce confidence, riches produce recklessness; the things that are goods give greatness of soul, riches give insolence. And insolence is nothing other than a false appearance of greatness. [33] 'In that way,' he says, 'riches are even an evil, not merely not a good.' They would be an evil if they themselves did harm, if, as I said, they had an efficient cause: as it is, they have an antecedent cause, and one that not only incites minds but actually drags them along; for they pour over us an appearance of good, lifelike and credible to most people. [34] Virtue too has an antecedent cause for envy; for many are envied on account of their wisdom, many on account of their justice. But it does not have this cause from itself, nor a lifelike one; for, on the contrary, a more lifelike image is set before the minds of men by virtue, one that calls them to love and admiration. [35] Posidonius says the question should be put thus: 'Things which give the soul neither greatness nor confidence nor security are not goods; but riches and good health and the like do none of these things; therefore they are not goods.' This question he then presses still further in this way: 'Things which give the soul neither greatness nor confidence nor security, but on the contrary create insolence, swelling, and arrogance, are evils; but we are driven into these by chance things; therefore they are not goods.' [36] 'By this reasoning,' he says, 'they will not even be conveniences.' The condition of conveniences is one thing, that of goods another: a convenience is what has more use than annoyance; a good ought to be unmixed and in every part harmless. That is not good which is more beneficial, but that which is only beneficial. [37] Besides, the convenient pertains both to animals and to imperfect men and to fools. And so it can have inconvenience mixed with it, but it is called convenient because it is valued by its larger part: the good pertains to the wise man alone; it must be inviolate. [38] Take heart: one knot is left for you, but a Herculean one: 'Good does not come from evils; riches come from many poverties; therefore riches are not a good.' This question our school does not acknowledge; the Peripatetics both invent it and solve it. But Posidonius says this sophism, bandied about through all the schools of the dialecticians, is refuted by Antipater thus: [39] 'Poverty is spoken of not in terms of possession but in terms of subtraction' (or, as the ancients said, of deprivation; the Greeks say kata steresin, 'by privation'); 'it states not what a man has, but what he does not have. And so nothing can be filled up out of many empty things: many things make riches, not many wants. You understand poverty,' he says, 'otherwise than you should. For poverty is not that which possesses few things, but that which does not possess many; so it is named not from what it has, but from what it lacks.' [40] I could express what I mean more easily if there were a Latin word to signify anyparxia [non-possession]. This is what Antipater assigns to poverty; I, for my part, do not see what else poverty is than the possession of little. We shall look into that, whenever there is plenty of leisure: what is the substance of riches and what of poverty; but then too we shall consider whether it is not more satisfactory to soothe poverty and to strip riches of their haughtiness than to wrangle about words, as if the matter itself had already been judged. [41] Let us suppose we have been summoned to a public assembly: a law for abolishing riches is being proposed. Are we going to advocate or oppose it with these arguments? Will we bring it about with these that the Roman people demand and praise poverty, the foundation and cause of their empire, but fear their own riches—that they reflect that they found these among the conquered, that from this source ambition and bribery and turmoil burst into a city most holy and most temperate, that the spoils of the nations are flaunted too luxuriously, that what one people has snatched from all can more easily be snatched from one by all? It is more satisfactory to advocate this, and to storm the passions, not to circumvent them. If we can, let us speak more forcefully; if not, more plainly. Farewell.

“I was shipwrecked before I got aboard.” I shall not add how that happened, lest you may reckon this also as another of the Stoic paradoxes; and yet I shall, whenever you are willing to listen, nay, even though you be unwilling, prove to you that these words are by no means untrue, nor so surprising as one at first sight would think. Meantime, the journey showed me this: how much we possess that is superfluous; and how easily we can make up our minds to do away with things whose loss, whenever it is necessary to part with them, we do not feel. My friend Maximus and I have been spending a most happy period of two days, taking with us very few slaves—one carriage-load—and no paraphernalia except what we wore on our persons. The mattress lies on the ground, and I upon the mattress. There are two rugs—one to spread beneath us and one to cover us. Nothing could have been subtracted from our luncheon; it took not more than an hour to prepare, and we were nowhere without dried figs, never without writing tablets. If I have bread, I use figs as a relish; if not, I regard figs as a substitute for bread. Hence they bring me a New Year feast every day, and I make the New Year happy and prosperous by good thoughts and greatness of soul; for the soul is never greater than when it has laid aside all extraneous things, and has secured peace for itself by fearing nothing, and riches by craving no riches. The vehicle in which I have taken my seat is a farmer’s cart. Only by walking do the mules show that they are alive. The driver is barefoot, and not because it is summer either. I can scarcely force myself to wish that others shall think this cart mine. My false embarrassment about the truth still holds out, you see; and whenever we meet a more sumptuous party I blush in spite of myself—proof that this conduct which I approve and applaud has not yet gained a firm and steadfast dwelling-place within me. He who blushes at riding in a rattle-trap will boast when he rides in style. So my progress is still insufficient. I have not yet the courage openly to acknowledge my thriftiness. Even yet I am bothered by what other travellers think of me. But instead of this, I should really have uttered an opinion counter to that in which mankind believe, saying, “You are mad, you are misled, your admiration devotes itself to superfluous things! You estimate no man at his real worth. When property is concerned, you reckon up in this way with most scrupulous calculation those to whom you shall lend either money or benefits; for by now you enter benefits also as payments in your ledger. You say: ‘His estates are wide, but his debts are large.’ ‘He has a fine house, but he has built it on borrowed capital.’ ‘No man will display a more brilliant retinue on short notice, but he cannot meet his debts.’ ‘If he pays off his creditors, he will have nothing left.’” So you will feel bound to do in all other cases as well,—to find out by elimination the amount of every man’s actual possessions. I suppose you call a man rich just because his gold plate goes with him even on his travels, because he farms land in all the provinces, because he unrolls a large account-book, because he owns estates near the city so great that men would grudge his holding them in the waste lands of Apulia. But after you have mentioned all these facts, he is poor. And why? He is in debt. “To what extent?” you ask. For all that he has. Or perchance you think it matters whether one has borrowed from another man or from Fortune. What good is there in mules caparisoned in uniform livery? Or in decorated chariots and Steeds decked with purple and with tapestry, With golden harness hanging from their necks, Champing their yellow bits, all clothed in gold? Neither master nor mule is improved by such trappings. Marcus Cato the Censor, whose existence helped the state as much as did Scipio’s,—for while Scipio fought against our enemies, Cato fought against our bad morals,—used to ride a donkey, and a donkey, at that, which carried saddle-bags containing the master’s necessaries. O how I should love to see him meet to-day on the road one of our coxcombs, with his outriders and Numidians, and a great cloud of dust before him! Your dandy would no doubt seem refined and well-attended in comparison with Marcus Cato,—your dandy, who, in the midst of all his luxurious paraphernalia, is chiefly concerned whether to turn his hand to the sword or to the hunting-knife. O what a glory to the times in which he lived, for a general who had celebrated a triumph, a censor, and what is most noteworthy of all, a Cato, to be content with a single nag, and with less than a whole nag at that! For part of the animal was preempted by the baggage that hung down on either flank. Would you not therefore prefer Cato’s steed, that single steed, saddle-worn by Cato himself, to the coxcomb’s whole retinue of plump ponies, Spanish cobs, and trotters? I see that there will be no end in dealing with such a theme unless I make an end myself. So I shall now become silent, at least with reference to superfluous things like these; doubtless the man who first called them “hindrances” had a prophetic inkling that they would be the very sort of thing they now are. At present I should like to deliver to you the syllogisms, as yet very few, belonging to our school and bearing upon the question of virtue, which, in our opinion, is sufficient for the happy life. “That which is good makes men good. For example, that which is good in the art of music makes the musician. But chance events do not make a good man; therefore, chance events are not goods.” The Peripatetics reply to this by saying that the premiss is false; that men do not in every case become good by means of that which is good; that in music there is something good, like a flute, a harp, or an organ suited to accompany singing; but that none of these instruments makes the musician. We shall then reply: “You do not understand in what sense we have used the phrase ’that which is good in music.’ For we do not mean that which equips the musician, but that which makes the musician; you, however, are referring to the instruments of the art, and not to the art itself. If, however, anything in the art of music is good, that will in every case make the musician.” And I should like to put this idea still more clearly. We define the good in the art of music in two ways: first, that by which the performance of the musician is assisted, and second, that by which his art is assisted. Now the musical instruments have to do with his performance,—such as flutes and organs and harps; but they do not have to do with the musician’s art itself. For he is an artist even without them; he may perhaps be lacking in the ability to practise his art. But the good in man is not in the same way twofold; for the good of man and the good of life are the same. “That which can fall to the lot of any man, no matter how base or despised he may be, is not a good. But wealth falls to the lot of the pander and the trainer of gladiators; therefore wealth is not a good.” “Another wrong premiss,” they say, “for we notice that goods fall to the lot of the very lowest sort of men, not only in the scholar’s art, but also in the art of healing or in the art of navigating.” These arts, however, make no profession of greatness of soul; they do not rise to any heights nor do they frown upon what fortune may bring. It is virtue that uplifts man and places him superior to what mortals hold dear; virtue neither craves overmuch nor fears to excess that which is called good or that which is called bad. Chelidon, one of Cleopatra’s eunuchs, possessed great wealth; and recently Natalis—a man whose tongue was as shameless as it was dirty, a man whose mouth used to perform the vilest offices—was the heir of many, and also made many his heirs. What then? Was it his money that made him unclean, or did he himself besmirch his money? Money tumbles into the hands of certain men as a shilling tumbles down a sewer. Virtue stands above all such things. It is appraised in coin of its own minting; and it deems none of these random windfalls to be good. But medicine and navigation do not forbid themselves and their followers to marvel at such things. One who is not a good man can nevertheless be a physician, or a pilot, or a scholar,—yes, just as well as he can be a cook! He to whose lot it falls to possess something which is not of a random sort, cannot be called a random sort of man; a person is of the same sort as that which he possesses. A strong-box is worth just what it holds; or rather, it is a mere accessory of that which it holds. Who ever sets any price upon a full purse except the price established by the count of the money deposited therein? This also applies to the owners of great estates: they are only accessories and incidentals to their possessions. Why, then, is the wise man great? Because he has a great soul. Accordingly, it is true that that which falls to the lot even of the most despicable person is not a good. Thus, I should never regard inactivity as a good; for even the tree-frog and the flea possess this quality. Nor should I regard rest and freedom from trouble as a good; for what is more at leisure than a worm? Do you ask what it is that produces the wise man? That which produces a god. You must grant that the wise man has in an element of godliness, heavenliness, grandeur. The good does not come to every one, nor does it allow any random person to possess it. Behold: What fruits each country bears, or will not bear; Here corn, and there the vine, grow richlier. And elsewhere still the tender tree and grass Unbidden clothe themselves in green. Seest thou How Tmolus ships its saffron perfumes forth, And ivory comes from Ind; soft Sheba sends Its incense, and the unclad Chalybes Their iron. These products are apportioned to separate countries in order that human beings may be constrained to traffic among themselves, each seeking something from his neighbour in his turn. So the Supreme Good has also its own abode. It does not grow where ivory grows, or iron. Do you ask where the Supreme Good dwells? In the soul. And unless the soul be pure and holy, there is no room in it for God. “Good does not result from evil. But riches result from greed; therefore, riches are not a good.” “It is not true,” they say, “that good does not result from evil. For money comes from sacrilege and theft. Accordingly, although sacrilege and theft are evil, yet they are evil only because they work more evil than good. For they bring gain; but the gain is accompanied by fear, anxiety, and torture of mind and body.” Whoever says this must perforce admit that sacrilege, though it be an evil because it works much evil, is yet partly good because it accomplishes a certain amount of good. What can be more monstrous than this? We have, to be sure, actually convinced the world that sacrilege, theft, and adultery are to be regarded as among the goods. How many men there are who do not blush at theft, how many who boast of having committed adultery! For petty sacrilege is punished, but sacrilege on a grand scale is honoured by a triumphal procession. Besides, sacrilege, if it is wholly good in some respect, will also be honourable and will be called right conduct; for it is conduct which concerns ourselves. But no human being, on serious consideration, admits this idea. Therefore, goods cannot spring from evil. For if, as you object, sacrilege is an evil for the single reason that it brings on much evil, if you but absolve sacrilege of its punishment and pledge it immunity, sacrilege will be wholly good. And yet the worst punishment for crime lies in the crime itself. You are mistaken, I maintain, if you propose to reserve your punishments for the hangman or the prison; the crime is punished immediately after it is committed; nay, rather, at the moment when it is committed. Hence, good does not spring from evil, any more than figs grow from olive-trees. Things which grow correspond to their seed; and goods cannot depart from their class. As that which is honourable does not grow from that which is base, so neither does good grow from evil. For the honourable and the good are identical. Certain of our school oppose this statement as follows: “Let us suppose that money taken from any source whatsoever is a good; even though it is taken by an act of sacrilege, the money does not on that account derive its origin from sacrilege. You may get my meaning through the following illustration: In the same jar there is a piece of gold and there is a serpent. If you take the gold from the jar, it is not just because the serpent is there too, I say, that the jar yields me the gold—because it contains the serpent as well,—but it yields the gold in spite of containing the serpent also. Similarly, gain results from sacrilege, not just because sacrilege is a base and accursed act, but because it contains gain also. As the serpent in the jar is an evil, and not the gold which lies there, beside the serpent; so in an act of sacrilege it is the crime, not the profit, that is evil.” But I differ from these men; for the conditions in each case are not at all the same. In the one instance I can take the gold without the serpent, in the other I cannot make the profit without committing the sacrilege. The gain in the latter case does not lie side by side with the crime; it is blended with the crime. “That which, while we are desiring to attain it, involves us in many evils, is not a good. But while we are desiring to attain riches, we become involved in many evils; therefore, riches are not a good,” “Your first premiss,” they say, “contains two meanings; one is: we become involved in many evils while we are desiring to attain riches. But we also become involved in many evils while we are desiring to attain virtue. One man, while travelling in order to prosecute his studies, suffers shipwreck, and another is taken captive. The second meaning is as follows: that through which we become involved in evils is not a good. And it will not logically follow from our proposition that we become involved in evils through riches or through pleasure; otherwise, if it is through riches that we become involved in many evils, riches are not only not a good, but they are positively an evil. You, however, maintain merely that they are not a good. Moreover,” the objector says, “you grant that riches are of some use. You reckon them among the advantages; and yet on this basis they cannot even be an advantage, for it is through the pursuit of riches that we suffer much disadvantage.” Certain men answer this objection as follows: “You are mistaken if you ascribe disadvantages to riches. Riches injure no one; it is a man’s own folly, or his neighbour’s wickedness, that harms him in each case, just as a sword by itself does not slay; it is merely the weapon used by the slayer. Riches themselves do not harm you, just because it is on account of riches that you suffer harm.” I think that the reasoning of Posidonius is better: he holds that riches are a cause of evil, not because, of themselves, they do any evil, but because they goad men on so that they are ready to do evil. For the efficient cause, which necessarily produces harm at once, is one thing, and the antecedent cause is another. It is this antecedent cause which inheres in riches; they puff up the spirit and beget pride, they bring on unpopularity and unsettle the mind to such an extent that the mere reputation of having wealth, though it is bound to harm us, nevertheless affords delight. All goods, however, ought properly to be free from blame; they are pure, they do not corrupt the spirit, and they do not tempt us. They do, indeed, uplift and broaden the spirit, but without puffing it up. Those things which are goods produce confidence, but riches produce shamelessness. The things which are goods give us greatness of soul, but riches give us arrogance. And arrogance is nothing else than a false show of greatness. “According to that argument,” the objector says, “riches are not only not a good, but are a positive evil.” Now they would be an evil if they did harm of themselves, and if, as I remarked, it were the efficient cause which inheres in them; in fact, however, it is the antecedent cause which inheres in riches, and indeed it is that cause which, so far from merely arousing the spirit, actually drags it along by force. Yes, riches shower upon us a semblance of the good, which is like the reality and wins credence in the eyes of many men. The antecedent cause inheres in virtue also; it is this which brings on envy—for many men become unpopular because of their wisdom, and many men because of their justice. But this cause, though it inheres in virtue, is not the result of virtue itself, nor is it a mere semblance of the reality; nay, on the contrary, far more like the reality is that vision which is flashed by virtue upon the spirits of men, summoning them to love it and marvel thereat. Posidonius thinks that the syllogism should be framed as follows: “Things which bestow upon the soul no greatness or confidence or freedom from care are not goods. But riches and health and similar conditions do none of these things; therefore, riches and health are not goods.” This syllogism he then goes on to extend still further in the following way: “Things which bestow upon the soul no greatness or confidence or freedom from care, but on the other hand create in it arrogance, vanity, and insolence, are evils. But things which are the gift of Fortune drive us into these evil ways. Therefore these things are not goods.” “But,” says the objector, “by such reasoning, things which are the gift of Fortune will not even be advantages.” No, advantages and goods stand each in a different situation. An advantage is that which contains more of usefulness than of annoyance. But a good ought to be unmixed and with no element in it of harmfulness. A thing is not good if it contains more benefit than injury, but only if it contains nothing but benefit. Besides, advantages may be predicated of animals, of men who are less than perfect, and of fools. Hence the advantageous may have an element of disadvantage mingled with it, but the word “advantageous” is used of the compound because it is judged by its predominant element. The good, however, can be predicated of the wise man alone; it is bound to be without alloy, Be of good cheer; there is only one knot left for you to untangle, though it is a knot for a Hercules: “Good does not result from evil. But riches result from numerous cases of poverty; therefore, riches are not a good.” This syllogism is not recognized by our school, but the Peripatetics both concoct it and give its solution. Posidonius, however, remarks that this fallacy, which has been bandied about among all the schools of dialectic, is refuted by Antipater as follows: “The word ‘poverty’ is used to denote, not the possession of something, but the non-possession or, as the ancients have put it, deprivation, (for the Greeks use the phrase ‘by deprivation,’ meaning ‘negatively’). ‘Poverty’ states, not what a man has, but what he has not. Consequently there can be no fulness resulting from a multitude of voids; many positive things, and not many deficiencies, make up riches. You have,” says he, “a wrong notion of the meaning of what poverty is. For poverty does not mean the possession of little, but the non-possession of much; it is used, therefore, not of what a man has, but of what he lacks.” I could express my meaning more easily if there were a Latin word which could translate the Greek word which means “not-possessing.” Antipater assigns this quality to poverty, but for my part I cannot see what else poverty is than the possession of little. If ever we have plenty of leisure, we shall investigate the question: What is the essence of riches, and what the essence of poverty; but when the time comes, we shall also consider whether it is not better to try to mitigate poverty, and to relieve wealth of its arrogance, than to quibble about the words as if the question of the things were already decided. Let us suppose that we have been summoned to an assembly; an act dealing with the abolition of riches has been brought before the meeting. Shall we be supporting it, or opposing it, if we use these syllogisms? Will these syllogisms help us to bring it about that the Roman people shall demand poverty and praise it—poverty, the foundation and cause of their empire,—and, on the other hand, shall shrink in fear from their present wealth, reflecting that they have found it among the victims of their conquests, that wealth is the source from which office-seeking and bribery and disorder have burst into a city once characterized by the utmost scrupulousness and sobriety, and that because of wealth an exhibition all too lavish is made of the spoils of conquered nations; reflecting, finally, that whatever one people has snatched away from all the rest may still more easily be snatched by all away from one? Nay, it were better to support this law by our conduct and to subdue our desires by direct assault rather than to circumvent them by logic. If we can, let us speak more boldly; if not, let us speak more frankly.

[1] Naufragium antequam navem ascenderem feci: quomodo acciderit non adicio, ne et hoc putes inter Stoica paradoxa ponendum, quorum nullum esse falsum nec tam mirabile quam prima facie videtur, cum volueris, adprobabo, immo etiam si nolueris. Interim hoc me iter docuit quam multa haberemus supervacua et quam facile iudicio possemus deponere quae, si quando necessitas abstulit, non sentimus ablata. [2] Cum paucissimis servis, quos unum capere vehiculum potuit, sine ullis rebus nisi quae corpore nostro continebantur, ego et Maximus meus biduum iam beatissimum agimus. Culcita in terra iacet, ego in culcita; ex duabus paenulis altera stragulum, altera opertorium facta est. [3] De prandio nihil detrahi potuit; paratum fuit ~non magis hora~, nusquam sine caricis, numquam sine pugillaribus; illae, si panem habeo, pro pulmentario sunt, si non habeo, pro pane. Cotidie mihi annum novum faciunt, quem ego faustum et felicem reddo bonis cogitationibus et animi magnitudine, qui numquam maior est quam ubi aliena seposuit et fecit sibi pacem nihil timendo, fecit sibi divitias nihil concupiscendo. [4] Vehiculum in quod inpositus sum rusticum est; mulae vivere se ambulando testantur; mulio excalceatus, non propter aestatem. Vix a me obtineo ut hoc vehiculum velim videri meum: durat adhuc perversa recti verecundia, et quotiens in aliquem comitatum lautiorem incidimus invitus erubesco, quod argumentum est ista quae probo, quae laudo, nondum habere certam sedem et immobilem. Qui sordido vehiculo erubescit pretioso gloriabitur. [5] Parum adhuc profeci: nondum audeo frugalitatem palam ferre; etiamnunc curo opiniones viatorum. Contra totius generis humani opiniones mittenda vox erat: 'insanitis, erratis, stupetis ad supervacua, neminem aestimatis suo. Cum ad patrimonium ventum est, diligentissimi conputatores sic rationem ponitis singulorum quibus aut pecuniam credituri estis aut beneficia (nam haec quoque iam expensa fertis): [6] late possidet, sed multum debet; habet domum formosam, sed alienis nummis paratam; familiam nemo cito speciosiorem producet, sed nominibus non respondet; si creditoribus solverit, nihil illi supererit. Idem in reliquis quoque facere debebitis et excutere quantum proprii quisque habeat.' [7] Divitem illum putas quia aurea supellex etiam in via sequitur, quia in omnibus provinciis arat, quia magnus kalendari liber volvitur, quia tantum suburbani agri possidet quantum invidiose in desertis Apuliae possideret: cum omnia dixeris, pauper est. Quare? quia debet. 'Quantum?' inquis. Omnia; nisi forte iudicas interesse utrum aliquis ab homine an a fortuna mutuum sumpserit. [8] Quid ad rem pertinent mulae saginatae unius omnes coloris? quid ista vehicula caelata? Ista nec dominum meliorem possunt facere nec mulam. [9] M. Cato Censorius, quem tam e re publica fuit nasci quam Scipionem (alter enim cum hostibus nostris bellum, alter cum moribus gessit), cantherio vehebatur et hippoperis quidem inpositis, ut secum utilia portaret. O quam cuperem illi nunc occurrere aliquem ex his trossulis, in via divitibus, cursores et Numidas et multum ante se pulveris agentem! Hic sine dubio cultior comitatiorque quam M. Cato videretur, hic qui inter illos apparatus delicatos cum maxime dubitat utrum se ad gladium locet an ad cultrum. [10] O quantum erat saeculi decus, imperatorem, triumphalem, censorium, quod super omnia haec est, Catonem, uno caballo esse contentum et ne toto quidem; partem enim sarcinae ab utroque latere dependentes occupabant. Ita non omnibus obesis mannis et asturconibus et tolutariis praeferres unicum illum equum ab ipso Catone defrictum? [11] Video non futurum finem in ista materia ullum nisi quem ipse mihi fecero. Hic itaque conticiscam, quantum ad ista quae sine dubio talia divinavit futura qualia nunc sunt qui primus appellavit 'inpedimenta'. Nunc volo paucissimas adhuc interrogationes nostrorum tibi reddere ad virtutem pertinentes, quam satisfacere vitae beatae contendimus. [12] 'Quod bonum est bonos facit (nam et in arte musica quod bonum est facit musicum); fortuita bonum non faciunt; ergo non sunt bona.' Adversus hoc sic respondent Peripatetici ut quod primum proponimus falsum esse dicant. 'Ab eo' inquiunt 'quod est bonum non utique fiunt boni. In musica est aliquid bonum tamquam tibia aut chorda aut organum aliquod aptatum ad usus canendi; nihil tamen horum facit musicum.' [13] His respondebimus, 'non intellegitis quomodo posuerimus quod bonum est in musica. Non enim id dicimus quod instruit musicum, sed quod facit: tu ad supellectilem artis, non ad artem venis. Si quid autem in ipsa arte musica bonum est, id utique musicum faciet.' [14] Etiamnunc facere istuc planius volo. Bonum in arte musica duobus modis dicitur, alterum quo effectus musici adiuvatur, alterum quo ars: ad effectum pertinent instrumenta, tibiae et organa et chordae, ad artem ipsam non pertinent. Est enim artifex etiam sine istis: uti forsitan non potest arte. Hoc non est aeque duplex in homine; idem enim est bonum et hominis et vitae. [15] 'Quod contemptissimo cuique contingere ac turpissimo potest bonum non est; opes autem et lenoni et lanistae contingunt; ergo non sunt bona.' 'Falsum est' inquiunt 'quod proponitis; nam et in grammatice et in arte medendi aut gubernandi videmus bona humillimis quibusque contingere.' [16] Sed istae artes non sunt magnitudinem animi professae, non consurgunt in altum nec fortuita fastidiunt: virtus extollit hominem et super cara mortalibus conlocat; nec ea quae bona nec ea quae mala vocantur aut cupit nimis aut expavescit. Chelidon, unus ex Cleopatrae mollibus, atrimonium grande possedit. Nuper Natalis, tam inprobae linguae quam inpurae, in cuius ore feminae purgabantur, et multorum heres fuit et multos habuit heredes. Quid ergo? utrum illum pecunia inpurum effecit an ipse pecuniam inspurcavit? quae sic in quosdam homines quomodo denarius in cloacam cadit. [17] Virtus super ista consistit; suo aere censetur; nihil ex istis quolibet incurrentibus bonum iudicat. Medicina et gubernatio non interdicit sibi ac suis admiratione talium rerum; qui non est vir bonus potest nihilominus medicus esse, potest gubernator, potest grammaticus tam mehercules quam cocus. Cui contingit habere rem non quamlibet, hunc non quemlibet dixeris; qualia quisque habet, talis est. [18] Fiscus tanti est quantum habet; immo in accessionem eius venit quod habet. Quis pleno sacculo ullum pretium ponit nisi quod pecuniae in eo conditae numerus effecit? Idem evenit magnorum dominis patrimoniorum: accessiones illorum et appendices sunt. Quare ergo sapiens magnus est? quia magnum animum habet. Verum est ergo quod contemptissimo cuique contingit bonum non esse. [19] Itaque indolentiam numquam bonum dicam:habet illam cicada, habet pulex. Ne quietem quidem et molestia vacare bonum dicam: quid est otiosius verme? Quaeris quae res sapientem faciat? quae deum. Des oportet illi divinum aliquid, caeleste, magnificum: non in omnes bonum cadit nec quemlibet possessorem patitur. [20] Vide [21] Ista in regiones discripta sunt, ut necessarium mortalibus esset inter ipsos commercium, si invicem alius aliquid ab alio peteret. Summum illud bonum habet et ipsum suam sedem; non nascitur ubi ebur, nec ubi ferrum. Quis sit summi boni locus quaeris? animus. Hic nisi purus ac sanctus est, deum non capit. [22] 'Bonum ex malo non fit; divitiae [autem fiunt] fiunt autem ex avaritia; divitiae ergo non sunt bonum.' 'Non est' inquit 'verum, bonum ex malo non nasci; ex sacrilegio enim et furto pecunia nascitur. Itaque malum quidem est sacrilegium et furtum, sed ideo quia plura mala facit quam bona; dat enim lucrum, sed cum metu, sollicitudine, tormentis et animi et corporis.' [23] Quisquis hoc dicit, necesse est recipiat sacrilegium, sicut malum sit quia multa mala facit, ita bonum quoque ex aliqua parte esse, quia aliquid boni facit: quo quid fieri portentuosius potest? Quamquam sacrilegium, furtum, adulterium inter bona haberi prorsus persuasimus. Quam multi furto non erubescunt, quam multi adulterio gloriantur! nam sacrilegia minuta puniuntur, magna in triumphis feruntur. [24] Adice nunc quod sacrilegium, si omnino ex aliqua parte bonum est, etiam honestum erit et recte factum vocabitur, ~nostra enim actio est~ quod nullius mortalium cogitatio recipit. Ergo bona nasci ex malo non possunt. Nam si, ut dicitis, ob hoc unum sacrilegium malum est, quia multum mali adfert, si remiseris illi supplicia, si securitatem spoponderis, ex toto bonum erit. Atqui maximum scelerum supplicium in ipsis est. [25] Erras, inquam, si illa ad carnificem aut carcerem differs: statim puniuntur cum facta sunt, immo dum fiunt. Non nascitur itaque ex malo bonum, non magis quam ficus ex olea: ad semen nata respondent, bona degenerare non possunt. Quemadmodum ex turpi honestum non nascitur, ita ne ex malo quidem bonum; nam idem est honestum et bonum. [26] Quidam ex nostris adversus hoc sic respondent: 'putemus pecuniam bonum esse undecumque sumptam; non tamen ideo ex sacrilegio pecunia est, etiam si ex sacrilegio sumitur. Hoc sic intellege. In eadem urna et aurum est et vipera: si aurum ex urna sustuleris, non ideo sustuleris quia illic et vipera est; non ideo, inquam, mihi urna aurum dat quia viperam habet, sed aurum dat, cum et viperam habeat. Eodem modo ex sacrilegio lucrum fit, non quia turpe et sceleratum est sacrilegium, sed quia et lucrum habet. Quemadmodum in illa urna vipera malum est, non aurum quod cum vipera iacet, sic in sacrilegio malum est scelus, non lucrum.' [27] A quibus <dissentio>; dissimillima enim utriusquerei condicio est. Illic aurum possum sine vipera tollere, hic lucrum sine sacrilegio facere non possum; lucrum istud non est adpositum sceleri sed inmixtum. [28] 'Quod dum consequi volumus in multa mala incidimus, id bonum non est; dum divitias autem consequi volumus, in multa mala incidimus; ergo divitiae bonum non sunt.' 'Duas' inquit 'significationes habet propositio vestra: unam, dum divitias consequi volumus, in multa nos mala incidere. In multa autem mala incidimus et dum virtutem consequi volumus: aliquis dum navigat studii causa, naufragium fecit, aliquis captus est. [29] Altera significatio talis est: per quod in mala incidimus bonum non est. Huic propositioni non erit consequens per divitias nos aut per voluptates in mala incidere; aut si per divitias in multa mala incidimus, non tantum bonum non sunt divitiae sed malum sunt; vos autem illas dicitis tantum bonum non esse. Praeterea' inquit 'conceditis divitias habere aliquid usus: inter commoda illas numeratis. Atqui eadem ratione <ne> commodum quidem erunt; per illas enim multa nobis incommoda eveniunt.' [30] His quidam hoc respondent: 'erratis, qui incommoda divitis inputatis. Illae neminem laedunt: aut sua nocet cuique stultitia aut aliena nequitia, sic quemadmodum gladius neminem occidit: occidentis telum est. Non ideo divitiae tibi nocent si propter divitias tibi nocetur.' [31] Posidonius, ut ego existimo, melius, qui ait divitias esse causam malorum, non quia ipsae faciunt aliquid, sed quia facturos inritant. Alia est enim causa efficiens, quae protinus necessest noceat, alia praecedens. Hanc praecedentem causam divitiae habent: inflant animos, superbiam pariunt, invidiam contrahunt, et usque eo mentem alienant ut fama pecuniae nos etiam nocitura delectet. [32] Bona autem omnia carere culpa decet; pura sunt, non corrumpunt animos, non sollicitant; extollunt quidem et dilatant, sed sine tumore. Quae bona sunt fiduciam faciunt, divitiae audaciam; quae bona sunt magnitudinem animi dant, divitiae insolentiam. Nihil autem aliud est insolentia quam species magnitudinis falsa. [33] 'Isto modo' inquit 'etiam malum sunt divitiae, non tantum bonum non sunt.' Essent malum si ipsae nocerent, si, ut dixi, haberent efficientem causam: nunc praecedentem habent et quidem non inritantem tantum animos sed adtrahentem; speciem enim boni offundunt veri similem ac plerisque credibilem. [34] Habet virtus quoque praecedentem causam ad invidiam; multis enim propter sapientiam, multis propter iustitiam invidetur. Sed nec ex se hanc causam habet nec veri similem; contra enim veri similior illa species hominum animis obicitur a virtute, quae illos in amorem et admirationem vocet. [35] Posidonius sic interrogandum ait: 'quae neque magnitudinem animo dant nec fiduciam nec securitatem non sunt bona; divitiae autem et bona valetudo et similia his nihil horum faciunt; ergo non sunt bona'. Hanc interrogationem magis etiamnunc hoc modo intendit: 'quae neque magnitudinem animo dant nec fiduciam nec securitatem, contra autem insolentiam, tumorem, arrogantiam creant, mala sunt; a fortuitis autem in haec inpellimur; ergo non sunt bona'. [36] 'Hac' inquit 'ratione ne commoda quidem ista erunt.' Alia est commodorum condicio, alia bonorum: commodum est quod plus usus habet quam molestiae; bonum sincerum esse debet et ab omni parte innoxium. Non est id bonum quod plus prodest, sed quod tantum prodest. [37] Praeterea commodumet ad animalia pertinet et ad inperfectos homines et ad stultos. Itaque potest ei esse incommodum mixtum, sed commodum dicitur a maiore sui parte aestimatum: bonum ad unum sapientem pertinet; inviolatum esse oportet. [38] Bonum animum habe: unus tibi nodus, sed Herculaneus restat: 'ex malis bonum non fit; ex multis paupertatibus divitiae fiunt; ergo divitiae bonum non sunt'. Hanc interrogationem nostri non agnoscunt, Peripatetici et fingunt illam et solvunt. Ait autem Posidonius hoc sophisma, per omnes dialecticorum scholas iactatum, sic ab Antipatro refelli: [39] 'paupertas non per possessionem dicitur, sed per detractionem' (vel, ut antiqui dixerunt, orbationem; Graeci kata steresin dicunt); 'non quod habeat dicit, sed quod non habeat. Itaque ex multis inanibus nihil impleri potest: divitias multae res faciunt, non multae inopiae. Aliter' inquit 'quam debes paupertatem intellegis. Paupertas enim est non quae pauca possidet, sed quae multa non possidet; ita non ab eo dicitur quod habet, sed ab eo quod ei deest.' [40] Facilius quod volo exprimerem, si Latinum verbum esset quo anuparxia significaretur. Hanc paupertati Antipater adsignat: ego non video quid aliud sit paupertas quam parvi possessio. De isto videbimus, si quando valde vacabit, quae sit divitiarum, quae paupertatis substantia; sed tunc quoque considerabimus numquid satius sit paupertatem permulcere, divitiis demere supercilium quam litigare de verbis, quasi iam de rebus iudicatum sit. [41] Putemus nos ad contionem vocatos: lex de abolendis divitis fertur. His interrogationibus suasuri aut dissuasuri sumus? his effecturi ut populus Romanus paupertatem, fundamentum et causam imperii sui, requirat ac laudet, divitias autem suas timeat, ut cogitet has se apud victos repperisse, hinc ambitum et largitiones et tumultus in urbem sanctissimam temperatissimam inrupisse, nimis luxuriose ostentari gentium spolia, quod unus populus eripuerit omnibus facilius ab omnibus uni eripi posse? Haec satius est suadere, et expugnare adfectus, non circumscribere. Si possumus, fortius loquamur; si minus, apertius. Vale.