Letter 94

[1] That part of philosophy which gives precepts suited to each particular role, and does not shape a person in general but advises a husband how to conduct himself toward his wife, a father how to raise his children, a master how to govern his slaves—some have accepted this part alone, and have abandoned the rest as if they wandered outside our usefulness, as though anyone could advise about a part of life who had not first grasped the sum of the whole of it. [2] Aristo the Stoic, on the contrary, judges this part to be slight and not such as sinks all the way down into the heart, holding that it contains old wives' precepts; the greatest profit, he says, comes from the very doctrines of philosophy and from the definition of the highest good. "Whoever has understood and learned this well prescribes to himself what must be done in each situation." [3] Just as one who learns to throw the javelin aims at a fixed spot and trains his hand to direct what he hurls, and when he has gained this skill from instruction and practice he uses it wherever he wishes (for he has learned not to strike this thing or that, but whatever he should wish), so too the one who has equipped himself for the whole of life does not need to be advised piece by piece, being taught in his entirety—taught not how to live with a wife or with a son, but how to live well; and within this is also how he should live with wife and children. [4] Cleanthes indeed judges this part useful too, but feeble unless it flows from the whole, unless one has come to know the very doctrines and chief headings of philosophy. This topic, then, divides into two questions: whether it is useful or useless, and whether it alone can produce a good man—that is, whether it is superfluous, or whether it makes all the rest superfluous. [5] Those who wish this part to seem superfluous say this: if something placed before the eyes obstructs the sight, it must be removed; while it is in the way, the man who advises "You will walk thus, you will reach out your hand there" wastes his effort. In the same way, when some thing blinds the mind and hinders it from discerning the order of duties, the man who advises "Thus you will live with your father, thus with your wife" accomplishes nothing. For precepts will be of no use as long as error is spread over the mind: if that is dispelled, it will be plain what is owed to each duty. Otherwise you teach the man what a healthy person ought to do; you do not make him healthy. [6] You show a poor man how to act like a rich one: how can this happen while his poverty remains? You show a starving man what he should do as if he were full: rather draw out the hunger fixed in his very marrow. I say the same to you about all the vices: the vices themselves must be removed, and you must not prescribe what cannot be done while they remain. Unless you expel the false opinions under which we labor, neither will the greedy man heed how money should be used, nor the timid man how to despise dangers. [7] You must bring it about that he knows money is neither a good nor an evil; you must show him the wealthy who are most wretched; you must bring it about that he knows whatever we publicly dread is not so much to be feared as rumor spreads it about, that no one grieves for long and no one dies often: that in death, which it is the law to suffer, there is great consolation in the fact that it returns to no one; that in pain a steadfastness of mind will serve as a remedy, since the mind makes lighter for itself whatever it has endured with defiance; that the nature of pain is at its best in this, that it cannot be great if it is prolonged, nor be prolonged if it is great; that all things must be received bravely which the necessity of the universe commands us. [8] When by these doctrines you have brought him to a view of his own condition, and he has come to know that the happy life is not the one that follows pleasure but the one that follows nature; when he has fallen deeply in love with virtue as man's only good and has fled baseness as man's only evil; when he has come to know that all the rest—riches, honors, good health, strength, commands—are a middle category, to be reckoned neither among goods nor among evils, then he will not long for a monitor for each single act, one to say "Walk thus, dine thus; this befits a man, this a woman, this a married man, this a bachelor." [9] For those who give such advice most diligently cannot do it themselves; the tutor prescribes these things to the boy, the grandmother to her grandson, and the most irascible schoolmaster argues that one must not grow angry. If you enter an elementary school, you will know that those things which philosophers boast of with an enormous lift of the brow are found in the lesson-book for children. [10] Next, will you prescribe things that are obvious or things that are doubtful? Obvious things do not need a monitor, and the one who prescribes doubtful things is not believed; therefore prescribing is superfluous. Learn it this way: if you advise something that is obscure and ambiguous, it will have to be supported by proofs; and if you are going to prove it, the things by which you prove are more powerful and are sufficient by themselves. [11] "Treat your friend thus, your fellow citizen thus, your associate thus." "Why?" "Because it is just." All these things the section on justice hands over to me: there I find that fairness is to be sought for its own sake, that we are neither driven to it by fear nor hired to it by reward, and that no one is just who finds anything pleasing in this virtue except the virtue itself. When I have persuaded myself of this and drunk it in, what profit do those precepts give, which instruct one already learned? To give precepts to one who knows is superfluous, to one who does not know is too little; for he ought to hear not only what is prescribed to him but also why. [12] Are they necessary, I ask, to the man who has true opinions about goods and evils, or to the one who does not? The one who does not have them will be helped by you in nothing: contrary rumor has taken possession of his ears against your admonitions. The one who has them, having an exact judgment about what is to be avoided and sought, knows what he must do even while you keep silent. Therefore this whole part of philosophy can be removed. [13] There are two reasons why we go wrong: either malice contracted from corrupt opinions is in the mind, or, even if it is not occupied by false ones, it is prone to false things and is quickly corrupted when an appearance draws it where it should not go. And so we must either thoroughly cure the sick mind and free it from vices, or, if it is empty but inclined to worse things, take possession of it in advance. The doctrines of philosophy do both; therefore this kind of prescribing accomplishes nothing. [14] Besides, if we give precepts to individuals, the work is beyond grasping; for we must give one set to the moneylender, another to the man tilling a field, another to the man in business, another to one pursuing the friendships of kings, another to one about to love his equals, another to one about to love his inferiors. [15] In marriage you will prescribe how a man should live with a wife he has married as a virgin, how with one who has had experience of someone before the marriage; how with a wealthy woman, how with one without a dowry. Or do you not think there is some difference between a barren woman and a fertile one, between an older one and a girl, between a mother and a stepmother? We cannot embrace every type: yet each demands its own, while the laws of philosophy are brief and bind all things. [16] Add now that the precepts of wisdom ought to be defined and certain; if any cannot be defined, they are outside wisdom, for wisdom knows the limits of things. Therefore this preceptive part must be removed, because what it promises to a few it cannot deliver to all; but wisdom holds them all. [17] Between the madness of the general public and that which is handed over to physicians there is no difference, except that the latter suffers from disease, the former from false opinions; one has drawn the causes of frenzy from ill health, the other is itself the ill health of the mind. If someone should give a madman precepts about how he ought to speak, how to walk, how to conduct himself in public, how in private, he will be more insane than the very one he advises: the black bile must be cured and the very cause of the frenzy removed. The same must be done in this other frenzy of the mind: it must itself be dispelled; otherwise the words of those who advise will go off into emptiness. [18] These things are said by Aristo; we will answer him point by point. First, against what he says—that if anything obstructs the eye and hinders vision, it ought to be removed—I admit that such a man does not need precepts in order to see, but a remedy by which the sight is cleansed and escapes the obstacle blocking it; for we see by nature, and the one who removes the obstacles restores to nature its own function. But what is owed to each duty, nature does not teach. [19] Next, the man whose blurred sight has been cured cannot at once, when he has recovered his vision, restore it to others as well; but the one freed from malice also frees others. There is no need of exhortation, nor even of counsel, for the eye to understand the properties of colors; it will distinguish white from black even with no one advising it. The mind, on the other hand, needs many precepts in order to see what must be done in life. Although the physician treats the sick in their eyes as well, he does not only cure but also advises. [20] "There is no reason," he says, "why you should at once commit your weak sight to a harsh light; advance first from darkness to shaded places, then dare more and gradually accustom yourself to endure the clear light. There is no reason why you should study after a meal, no reason why you should give commands to your eyes when they are full and swollen; avoid the draft and the force of cold rushing against your face"—and other things of this kind, which profit no less than medicines. Medicine adds counsel to its remedies. [21] "Error," he says, "is the cause of sinning: precepts do not take this away from us, nor do they overthrow our false opinions about goods and evils." I grant that precepts by themselves are not effective for overturning a depraved conviction of the mind; but not for that reason do they fail to profit when joined to other things. First, they renew the memory; then the things which seemed rather confused as a whole are more carefully considered when divided into parts. Otherwise, on that reasoning, you may also call consolations superfluous, and exhortations: but they are not superfluous; therefore neither are admonitions. [22] "It is foolish," he says, "to prescribe to a sick man what he should do as if he were healthy, when health must be restored, without which the precepts are void." What of the fact that the sick and the healthy have certain things in common about which they must be admonished?—such as not to crave food greedily, to avoid exhaustion. Poor and rich have certain precepts in common. [23] "Heal greed," he says, "and you will have nothing to admonish either poor man or rich man about, if the craving of each has settled." What of the fact that it is one thing not to crave money, another to know how to use money? The greedy do not know its measure, and even those who are not greedy do not know its use. "Remove errors," he says, "and precepts are superfluous." That is false. For suppose greed loosened, suppose luxury reined in, the bridle thrown on rashness, the spur applied to laziness: even with the vices removed, we must learn what and how we ought to do. [24] "Admonitions applied to grave vices," he says, "will accomplish nothing." Not even medicine conquers incurable diseases, yet it is applied to some as a cure, to others as a relief. Not even the very force of all philosophy, though it summon all its strength to this, will draw out a plague now hardened and old in the minds; but it does not for that reason heal nothing, because it does not heal everything. [25] "What good does it do," he says, "to point out obvious things?" The greatest good; for sometimes we know things and do not attend to them. Admonition does not teach but turns our attention, but rouses, but holds the memory together and does not let it slip away. Most things placed before our eyes we pass by: to admonish is a kind of exhorting. Often the mind even pretends not to see what is obvious; the knowledge of the best-known things must therefore be pressed upon it. This is the place to recall Calvus's saying against Vatinius: "You all know that bribery has been committed, and everyone knows that you know this." [26] You know that friendships must be cultivated reverently, but you do not do it. You know that the man is shameless who demands chastity of his wife while he is himself a corrupter of other men's wives; you know that, just as she should have nothing to do with an adulterer, so you should have nothing to do with a mistress, and you do not do it. And so you must again and again be brought back to remembrance; for those things ought not to be stored away but kept ready at hand. Whatever is wholesome ought to be turned over often, handled often, so that it may not only be known to us but also be ready. Add now that even obvious things tend to be made more obvious. [27] "If the things you prescribe are doubtful," he says, "you will have to add proofs; therefore those, not the precepts, will profit." What of the fact that even without proofs the very authority of the one admonishing is of profit? Just as the responses of legal experts hold good, even if the reasoning is not given. Besides, the things prescribed have much weight in themselves, especially if they are woven into a poem or compressed into a maxim in prose, such as that saying of Cato: "Buy not what is useful, but what is necessary; what is not useful is dear at a penny." Of this kind are those given by an oracle or like them: [28] "Spare the time," "Know yourself." Will you demand the reasoning when someone has spoken these verses to you? These things do not seek an advocate: they touch the very feelings, and they profit while nature exercises her own force. [29] The mind carries the seeds of all honorable things, which are roused by admonition just as a spark, helped by a light breath, unfolds its own fire; virtue is raised up when it is touched and impelled. Besides, there are certain things which are indeed in the mind, but not very ready, which begin to be available once they are spoken; certain things lie scattered in different places, which an unpracticed mind cannot draw together. And so they must be gathered into one and joined, so that they may be more powerful and lift up the mind more. [30] Or, if precepts help in nothing, then all instruction must be abolished; we ought to be content with nature itself. Those who say this do not see that one man is of a quick and upright disposition, another slow and dull, and certainly one more gifted than another. The force of natural ability is nourished by precepts and grows, and adds new convictions to the inborn ones and corrects what has been distorted. [31] "If someone," he says, "does not have correct doctrines, how will admonitions help him, bound up as he is by faulty ones?" In this, of course: that he may be freed from them; for the natural disposition in him is not extinguished but obscured and oppressed. Even so it tries to rise again and strains against what is corrupt, and indeed, once it has gained support and is helped by precepts, it grows strong—provided, that is, that a long-standing plague has not infected and killed it; for in that case not even the discipline of philosophy, straining with all its force, will restore it. For what difference is there between the doctrines of philosophy and precepts, except that the former are general precepts, the latter special? Both prescribe, but one in general, the other piece by piece. [32] "If someone," he says, "has correct and honorable doctrines, he is admonished superfluously." Not at all; for this man too is indeed taught to do what he ought, but he does not perceive these things sufficiently. For we are hindered from doing what should be approved not only by our feelings but also by inexperience in finding out what each situation demands. We sometimes have a composed mind, but one that is idle and untrained in finding the path of duties, which admonition points out. [33] "Expel," he says, "the false opinions about goods and evils, and put true ones in their place, and admonition will have nothing to do." Doubtless the mind is set in order by this method, but not only by this; for although it may be established by arguments what things are good and bad, nonetheless precepts have their own parts to play. Both prudence and justice consist of duties: duties are arranged by precepts. [34] Besides, the very judgment about evils and goods is confirmed by the carrying out of duties, to which precepts lead. For both agree with each other: the former cannot go ahead without the latter following, and the latter follow their own order; from which it appears that the former go first. [35] "Precepts," he says, "are infinite." That is false; for about the greatest and most necessary matters they are not infinite. They have, to be sure, slight differences which times, places, and persons require, but for these too general precepts are given. [36] "No one," he says, "cures insanity by precepts; therefore not wickedness either." It is not alike; for if you remove insanity, health is restored; if we shut out false opinions, the discernment of things to be done does not immediately follow; and even if it does follow, admonition will nonetheless reinforce the right judgment about goods and evils. That too is false—that precepts profit nothing among the insane. For just as they do not help by themselves, so they assist the cure; both warning and chastisement have restrained the insane—I am speaking now of those insane whose mind is disturbed, not torn away. [37] "Laws," he says, "do not bring it about that we do what we ought, and what else are they than precepts mixed with threats?" First of all, laws do not persuade for the reason that they threaten, whereas these do not compel but entreat; next, laws deter from crime, precepts exhort toward duty. To these add that laws too profit toward good morals, especially if they not only command but teach. [38] On this point I disagree with Posidonius, who says: "I disapprove of the fact that preambles have been added to the laws of Plato. For a law ought to be brief, so that the uninstructed may grasp it more easily. Let it be like a voice sent down from heaven: let it command, not argue. Nothing seems to me colder, nothing more inept, than a law with a prologue. Warn me, tell me what you want me to have done: I do not learn, I obey." But preambles do profit; and so you will see states with bad morals making use of bad laws. [39] "But they do not profit in everyone." Neither does philosophy; and yet it is not for that reason useless and ineffective for shaping minds. And further—is philosophy not the law of life? But let us suppose that laws do not profit: it does not therefore follow that admonitions do not profit either. On that reasoning, deny too that consolations profit, and dissuasions and exhortations and reproaches and praises. All these are kinds of admonition; through them one arrives at the perfect state of mind. [40] Nothing clothes minds in honor more, and recalls the doubtful and those inclined to what is depraved back to the right, than the company of good men; for it gradually descends into the heart, and to be looked upon often, to be heard often, obtains the force of precepts. Indeed, by Hercules, the very encounter with wise men helps, and there is something you may profit from a great man even when he is silent. [41] Nor could I easily tell you how it profits, just as I understand that it has profited. "Certain tiny creatures," as Phaedo says, "when they bite are not felt, so subtle and deceptive for danger is their power; a swelling reveals the bite, and in the swelling itself no wound appears." The same will happen to you in the company of wise men: you will not detect how or when it profits you—you will detect that it has profited. [42] "What," you say, "is this getting at?" That good precepts, if they are often with you, will profit just as much as good examples. Pythagoras says that a different mind comes upon those who enter a temple and behold the images of the gods up close and await the voice of some oracle. [43] And who will deny that even the most inexperienced are effectively struck by certain precepts?—as by these briefest sayings, which yet have much weight: When we hear these things with a kind of blow, no one is allowed to doubt or to ask "Why?"; so much does truth itself shine even without reasoning. [44] If reverence reins in minds and checks vices, why could not admonition do the same? If chastisement instills shame, why should admonition not do it, even if it uses bare precepts? But that admonition is more effective and penetrates more deeply which supports by reason what it prescribes, which adds why each thing must be done and what reward awaits the one who acts and obeys the precepts. If profit comes from command, then also from admonition; but profit comes from command; therefore also from admonition. [45] Virtue is divided into two parts: into the contemplation of truth and into action. Instruction hands over contemplation, admonition hands over action. Right action both exercises and displays virtue. But if the one who advises is of profit to the man about to act, then the one who admonishes will profit too. Therefore if right action is necessary to virtue, and admonition points out right actions, then admonition too is necessary. [46] Two things give the mind the most strength: faith in the truth, and confidence; admonition produces both. For it is believed, and once it has been believed the mind conceives great spirits and is filled with confidence; therefore admonition is not superfluous. Marcus Agrippa, a man of immense spirit, the only one of those whom the civil wars made famous and powerful who was fortunate for the public good, used to say that he owed much to this maxim: "For by concord small things grow, by discord the greatest fall apart." [47] By this, he said, he was made both the best of brothers and the best of friends. If maxims of this kind, received intimately into the mind, shape it, why could not this part of philosophy, which consists of such maxims, do the same? Part of virtue consists in learning, part in practice; you must both learn and confirm what you have learned by doing. And if this is so, then not only the precepts of wisdom profit, but also the precepts which restrain and banish our feelings as if by an edict. [48] "Philosophy," he says, "is divided into these: knowledge and a state of mind; for the man who has learned and grasped what must be done and avoided is not yet wise unless his mind has been transformed into what he has learned. This third part, that of prescribing, is from both, both from doctrines and from the state of mind; and so it is superfluous for filling out virtue, for which those two suffice." [49] On that reasoning, then, consolation too is superfluous (for this also is from both), and exhortation and persuasion and even argumentation itself; for this too proceeds from a composed and strong state of mind. But although these things come from the best state of mind, the best state of mind comes from them; it both produces them and is itself produced from them. [50] Furthermore, what you say belongs to the already perfect man who has attained the summit of human happiness. But one arrives at these things slowly; in the meantime the way in practical matters must be shown even to the imperfect man who is making progress. This way wisdom will perhaps give to itself even without admonition, having already brought the mind to the point where it cannot be moved except toward the right. But for weaker natures it is necessary that someone go before: "You will avoid this, you will do that." [51] Besides, if one waits for the time when by oneself one will know what is best to do, in the meantime one will go astray, and by going astray will be hindered from arriving at the point where one can be content with oneself; therefore one must be guided while one is beginning to be able to guide oneself. Boys learn according to a copy; their fingers are held and led by another's hand through the shapes of the letters, then they are bidden to imitate models and to reshape their handwriting to them: so too our mind, while it is being trained according to a copy, is helped. [52] These are the considerations by which it is proved that this part of philosophy is not superfluous. The question then is whether it alone suffices to make a man wise. To this question we will give its own day; meanwhile, leaving the arguments aside, is it not clear that we need some advocate to prescribe against the precepts of the crowd? [53] No utterance reaches our ears without harm: those who wish us well do harm, those who curse us do harm. For the imprecation of the latter implants false fears in us, and the love of the former teaches us badly by wishing us well; for it sends us off toward distant and uncertain and wandering goods, when we could draw happiness from home. [54] We are not allowed, I say, to go by the straight road; parents drag us into the depraved, slaves drag us. No one errs for himself alone, but scatters his madness among those near him and receives theirs in turn. And so in individuals there are the vices of nations, because the nation gave them. While each man makes another worse, he has been made worse; he has learned the worse, then taught it, and that vast wickedness has been produced, with everyone's worst piled into one heap. [55] Let there be, then, some guardian to keep tugging at the ear and drive away rumors and cry out against the praising crowds. For you are mistaken if you think vices are born with us: they came over us, they were heaped on us. And so, by frequent admonitions, let the opinions that din around us be repelled. [56] Nature joins us to no vice: she bore us whole and free. She set nothing in the open to inflame our greed: she put gold and silver beneath our feet and gave whatever it is, on account of which we are trodden and pressed down, to be trodden and pressed. She raised our faces toward heaven and willed that whatever she had made magnificent and wondrous should be seen by those who look up: the risings and settings and the whirling course of the hurrying world, by day disclosing earthly things, by night the heavenly; the slow advances of the stars if you compare them to the whole, but the swiftest if you consider how great the distances are which they circle with never-interrupted speed; the eclipses of sun and moon as they block each other in turn; and then other things worthy of wonder, whether they come on in order or, moved by sudden causes, leap forth—such as the nightly trails of fire, and flashes of the opening sky without any stroke or sound, and columns and beams and the various images of flames. [57] These things nature arranged above us, but gold and silver, and the iron that—on account of these—never keeps peace, she hid away, as if they were ill entrusted to us. We have brought up into the light the things over which we would fight; we, with the weight of the earth thrown aside, have dug out both the causes and the instruments of our dangers; we have handed our own evils over to Fortune, and we do not blush that the highest things among us are those which had been the lowest of the earth. [58] Do you wish to know how false a gleam has deceived your eyes? There is nothing fouler than these things while they lie sunk and wrapped in their own filth, nothing more obscure—how could it be otherwise, things which are dragged out through the darkness of the longest tunnels? There is nothing more shapeless than they are while they are being made and separated from their dregs. Finally, look at the very workmen through whose hands the barren and infernal kind of earth is thoroughly cleansed: you will see with how much soot they are smeared. [59] And yet those things stain minds more than bodies, and there is more filth in the possessor of them than in the craftsman. It is therefore necessary to be admonished, to have some advocate of a good mind, and in so great a roar and tumult of false things to hear at last one voice. What will that voice be? Surely the one that whispers wholesome words to you, deafened by the great shouts of ambition—that says: [60] there is no reason for you to envy those whom the crowd calls great and fortunate; there is no reason for applause to shake out of you the disposition and soundness of a composed mind; there is no reason for that man, adorned with purple beneath those fasces, to make you disdain your own tranquility; there is no reason to judge happier the man for whom the way is cleared than yourself, whom the lictor pushes off the path. If you wish to wield a command useful to yourself but burdensome to no one, remove your vices. [61] Many are found who would carry fire into cities, who would lay low what was impregnable for ages and safe through several generations, who would raise a rampart level with citadels and shatter with battering rams and engines walls drawn up to a marvelous height. Many there are who drive armies before them and press heavily on the backs of the enemy and come to the great sea drenched with the slaughter of nations; but these too, in order to conquer the enemy, were conquered by greed. No one resisted them as they came, but they themselves had not resisted ambition and cruelty; at the time when they seemed to drive others, they were being driven. [62] Frenzy drove the unhappy Alexander, a frenzy for laying waste what was not his own, and sent him off to unknown lands. Or do you think that man was sane who begins with the disasters of Greece, where he was educated? who snatches away what is best for each, bids Sparta serve, Athens be silent? Not content with the ruin of so many cities, which Philip had either conquered or bought, he flings down some in one place, others in another, and carries his arms around the whole world; nor does his cruelty stop anywhere, weary in the manner of savage beasts which bite more than hunger demands. [63] Already he has thrown many kingdoms into one kingdom, already Greeks and Persians fear the same man, already nations left free by Darius accept the yoke; yet he goes beyond the ocean and the sun, indignant to bend his victory back from the footsteps of Hercules and Liber, and he prepares violence against nature herself. It is not that he wishes to go, but that he cannot stand still—no differently than weights hurled headlong, for which the end of going is to have lain still. [64] Neither was it virtue or reason that urged Gnaeus Pompey to foreign and domestic wars, but an insane love of false greatness. Now he went into Spain and against the arms of Sertorius, now to bind the pirates and pacify the seas: these causes were screens for prolonging his power. [65] What drew him into Africa, what to the north, what against Mithridates and Armenia and every corner of Asia? Surely an infinite desire for growing greater, since to himself alone he seemed not great enough. What launched Gaius Caesar against his own fate and the public's alike? Glory and ambition and no limit to standing above the rest. He could not bear one man before him, though the republic bore two above itself. [66] What of Gaius Marius, consul once (for he received one consulship and seized the rest)—when he was cutting down the Teutons and Cimbri, when he was pursuing Jugurtha through the deserts of Africa, do you think he sought so many dangers by the impulse of virtue? Marius led armies, ambition led Marius. [67] These men, while they were shaking everything, were being shaken in the manner of whirlwinds, which roll together what they have snatched up but are themselves first rolled, and for this reason rush on with greater force, because they have no control of themselves; and so, when they have been a calamity to many, they themselves also feel that pestilential force by which they harmed most. There is no reason for you to believe that anyone becomes happy through another's unhappiness. [68] All these examples which are forced upon our eyes and ears must be unraveled, and the heart full of evil talk must be emptied; virtue must be brought into the place it occupied, virtue which uproots lies and the things that please us against the truth, which separates us from the crowd in which we trust too much and restores us to sincere opinions. For this is wisdom: to be turned back into nature and restored to the place from which the common error drove us out. [69] A great part of soundness is to have left the encouragers of madness and to have gone far off from that mutually harmful gathering. That you may know this is true, look at how differently each man lives for the public, how differently for himself. Solitude is not in itself a teacher of innocence, nor do the fields teach frugality; but where the witness and spectator has withdrawn, the vices subside whose reward is to be displayed and seen. [70] Who put on the purple he would show to no one? Who set out a feast in secret on gold? Who, flung down beneath the shade of some rustic tree, unfolded the pomp of his luxury alone? No one is elegant for his own eyes, nor even for those of a few or of his household, but spreads out the array of his vices in proportion to the size of the watching crowd. [71] So it is: an admirer and a witness is the incitement of all the things in which we go mad. You will bring it about that we do not crave, if you bring it about that we do not display. Ambition and luxury and lack of self-control require a stage: you will cure these things if you hide them. [72] And so, if we are placed in the midst of the city's roar, let a monitor stand at our side and, against those who praise great patrimonies, let him praise the man who is rich on little and measures his wealth by its use. Against those who exalt favor and power, let him himself look up to leisure handed down to letters and to a mind turned back from external things to its own. [73] Let him show that those who are happy by the crowd's reckoning are, on that envied summit of theirs, trembling and stunned, and hold a far different opinion of themselves than is held by others; for what seems lofty to others is to themselves a precipice. And so they are panic-stricken and tremble whenever they have looked down into that abyss of their greatness; for they think of the various mischances, slipperiest of all at the height. [74] Then they dread the things they sought, and the good fortune which makes them burdensome to others lies heavier on themselves. Then they praise gentle leisure that is one's own; they hate the glitter, and flight is sought from things still standing. Then at last you may see them philosophizing out of fear, and the sound counsels of a sick fortune. For as if these things were contrary to each other—good fortune and a good mind—so we are wiser in evils: prosperity takes away rectitude. Farewell.

That department of philosophy which supplies precepts appropriate to the individual case, instead of framing them for mankind at large—which, for instance, advises how a husband should conduct himself towards his wife, or how a father should bring up his children, or how a master should rule his slaves—this department of philosophy, I say, is accepted by some as the only significant part, while the other departments are rejected on the ground that they stray beyond the sphere of practical needs—as if any man could give advice concerning a portion of life without having first gained a knowledge of the sum of life as a whole! But Aristo the Stoic, on the contrary, believes the above-mentioned department to be of slight import—he holds that it does not sink into the mind, having in it nothing but old wives’ precepts, and that the greatest benefit is derived from the actual dogmas of philosophy and from the definition of the Supreme Good. When a man has gained a complete understanding of this definition and has thoroughly learned it, he can frame for himself a precept directing what is to be done in a given case. Just as the student of javelin-throwing keeps aiming at a fixed target and thus trains the hand to give direction to the missile, and when, by instruction and practice, he has gained the desired ability he can then employ it against any target he wishes (having learned to strike not any random object, but precisely the object at which he has aimed),—he who has equipped himself for the whole of life does not need to be advised concerning each separate item, because he is now trained to meet his problem as a whole; for he knows not merely how he should live with his wife or his son, but how he should live aright. In this knowledge there is also included the proper way of living with wife and children. Cleanthes holds that this department of wisdom is indeed useful, but that it is a feeble thing unless it is derived from general principles—that is, unless it is based upon a knowledge of the actual dogmas of philosophy and its main headings. This subject is therefore twofold, leading to two separate lines of inquiry: first, Is it useful or useless? and, second, Can it of itself produce a good man?—in other words, Is it superfluous, or does it render all other departments superfluous? Those who urge the view that this department is superfluous argue as follows: “If an object that is held in front of the eyes interferes with the vision, it must be removed. For just as long as it is in the way, it is a waste of time to offer such precepts as these: ‘Walk thus and so; extend your hand in that direction.’ Similarly, when something blinds a man’s soul and hinders it from seeing a line of duty clearly, there is no use in advising him: ‘Live thus and so with your father, thus and so with your wife.’ For precepts will be of no avail while the mind is clouded with error; only when the cloud is dispersed will it be clear what one’s duty is in each case. Otherwise, you will merely be showing the sick man what he ought to do if he were well, instead of making him well. Suppose you are trying to reveal to the poor man the art of ‘acting rich’; how can the thing be accomplished as long as his poverty is unaltered? You are trying to make clear to a starveling in what manner he is to act the part of one with a well-filled stomach; the first requisite, however, is to relieve him of the hunger that grips his vitals. “The same thing, I assure you, holds good of all faults; the faults themselves must be removed, and precepts should not be given which cannot possibly be carried out while the faults remain. Unless you drive out the false opinions under which we suffer, the miser will never receive instruction as to the proper use of his money, nor the coward regarding the way to scorn danger. You must make the miser know that money is neither a good nor an evil; show him men of wealth who are miserable to the last degree. You must make the coward know that the things which generally frighten us out of our wits are less to be feared than rumour advertises them to be, whether the object of fear be suffering or death; that when death comes—fixed by law for us all to suffer—it is often a great solace to reflect that it can never come again; that in the midst of suffering resoluteness of soul will be as good as a cure, for the soul renders lighter any burden that it endures with stubborn defiance. Remember that pain has this most excellent quality: if prolonged it cannot be severe, and if severe it cannot be prolonged; and that we should bravely accept whatever commands the inevitable laws of the universe lay upon us. “When by means of such doctrines you have brought the erring man to a sense of his own condition, when he has learned that the happy life is not that which conforms to pleasure, but that which conforms to Nature, when he has fallen deeply in love with virtue as man’s sole good and has avoided baseness as man’s sole evil, and when he knows that all other things—riches, office, health, strength, dominion—fall in between and are not to be reckoned either among goods or among evils, then he will not need a monitor for every separate action, to say to him: ‘Walk thus and so, eat thus and so. This is the conduct proper for a man and that for a woman; this for a married man and that for a bachelor.’ Indeed, the persons who take the greatest pains to proffer such advice are themselves unable to put it into practice. It is thus that the pedagogue advises the boy, and the grandmother her grandson; it is the hottest-tempered schoolmaster who contends that one should never lose one’s temper. Go into any elementary school, and you will learn that just such pronouncements, emanating from high-browed philosophers, are to be found in the lesson-book for boys! “Shall you then offer precepts that are clear, or precepts that are doubtful? Those which are clear need no counsellor, and doubtful precepts gain no credence; so the giving of precepts is superfluous. That this is so learn thus: if you are counselling someone on a matter which is of doubtful clearness and doubtful meaning, you must supplement your precepts by proofs; and if you must resort to proofs, your means of proof are more effective and more satisfactory in themselves. ‘It is thus that you must treat your friend, thus your fellow citizen, thus your associate.’ And why? ‘Because it is just.’ Yet I can find all that material included under the head of Justice. I find there that fair play is desirable in itself, that we are not forced into it by fear nor hired to that end for pay, and that no man is just who is attracted by anything in this virtue other than the virtue itself. After convincing myself of this view and thoroughly absorbing it, what good can I obtain from such precepts, which only teach one who is already trained? To one who knows, it is superfluous to give precepts; to one who does not know, it is insufficient. For he must be told, not only what he is being instructed to do, but also why. I repeat, are such precepts useful to him who has correct ideas about good and evil, or to one who has them not? The latter will receive no benefit from you; for some idea that clashes with your counsel has already monopolized his attention. He who has made a careful decision as to what should be sought and what should be avoided knows what he ought to do, without a single word from you. Therefore, that whole department of philosophy may be abolished. “There are two reasons why we go astray: either there is in the soul an evil quality which has been brought about by wrong opinions, or, even if not possessed by false ideas, the soul is prone to falsehood and rapidly corrupted by some outward appearance which attracts it in the wrong direction. For this reason it is our duty either to treat carefully the diseased mind and free it from faults, or to take possession of the mind when it is still unoccupied and yet inclined to what is evil. Both these results can be attained by the main doctrines of philosophy; therefore the giving of such precepts is of no use. Besides, if we give forth precepts to each individual, the task is stupendous. For one class of advice should be given to the financier, another to the farmer, another to the business man, another to one who cultivates the good graces of royalty, another to him who will seek the friendship of his equals, another to him who will court those of lower rank. In the case of marriage, you will advise one person how he should conduct himself with a wife who before her marriage was a maiden, and another how he should behave with a woman who had previously been wedded to another; how the husband of a rich woman should act, or another man with a dowerless spouse. Or do you not think that there is some difference between a barren woman and one who bears children, between one advanced in years and a mere girl, between a mother and a step-mother? We cannot include all the types, and yet each type requires separate treatment; but the laws of philosophy are concise and are binding in all cases. Moreover, the precepts of wisdom should be definite and certain: when things cannot be defined, they are outside the sphere of wisdom; for wisdom knows the proper limits of things. “We should therefore do away with this department of precepts, because it cannot afford to all what it promises only to a few; wisdom, however, embraces all. Between the insanity of people in general and the insanity which is subject to medical treatment there is no difference, except that the latter is suffering from disease and the former from false opinions. In the one case, the symptoms of madness may be traced to ill-health; the other is the ill-health of the mind. If one should offer precepts to a madman—how he ought to speak, how he ought to walk, how he ought to conduct himself in public and in private, he would be more of a lunatic than the person whom he was advising. What is really necessary is to treat the black bile and remove the essential cause of the madness. And this is what should also be done in the other case—that of the mind diseased. The madness itself must be shaken off; otherwise, your words of advice will vanish into thin air.” This is what Aristo says; and I shall answer his arguments one by one. First, in opposition to what he says about one’s obligation to remove that which blocks the eye and hinders the vision. I admit that such a person does not need precepts in order to see, but that he needs treatment for the curing of his eyesight and the getting rid of the hindrance that handicaps him. For it is Nature that gives us our eyesight; and he who removes obstacles restores to Nature her proper function. But Nature does not teach us our duty in every case. Again, if a man’s cataract is cured, he cannot, immediately after his recovery, give back their eyesight to other men also; but when we are freed from evil we can free others also. There is no need of encouragement, or even of counsel, for the eye to be able to distinguish different colours; black and white can be differentiated without prompting from another. The mind, on the other hand, needs many precepts in order to see what it should do in life; although in eye-treatment also the physician not only accomplishes the cure, but gives advice into the bargain. He says: “There is no reason why you should at once expose your weak vision to a dangerous glare; begin with darkness, and then go into half-lights, and finally be more bold, accustoming yourself gradually to the bright light of day. There is no reason why you should study immediately after eating; there is no reason why you should impose hard tasks upon your eyes when they are swollen and inflamed; avoid winds and strong blasts of cold air that blow into your face,”—and other suggestions of the same sort, which are just as valuable as drugs themselves. The physician’s art supplements remedies by advice. “But,” comes the reply, “error is the source of sin; precepts do not remove error, nor do they rout our false opinions on the subject of Good and Evil.” I admit that precepts alone are not effective in overthrowing the mind’s mistaken beliefs; but they do not on that account fail to be of service when they accompany other measures also. In the first place, they refresh the memory; in the second place, when sorted into their proper classes, the matters which showed themselves in a jumbled mass when considered as a whole, can be considered in this with greater care. According to our opponents theory, you might even say that consolation, and exhortation were superfluous. Yet they are not superfluous; neither, therefore, is counsel. “But it is folly,” they retort, “to prescribe what a sick man ought to do, just as if he were well, when you should really restore his health; for without health precepts are not worth a jot.” But have not sick men and sound men something in common, concerning which they need continual advice? For example, not to grasp greedily after food, and to avoid getting over-tired. Poor and rich have certain precepts which fit them both. “Cure their greed, then,” people say, “and you will not need to lecture either the poor or the rich, provided that in the case of each of them the craving has subsided.” But is it not one thing to be free from lust for money, and another thing to know how to use this money? Misers do not know the proper limits in money matters, but even those who are not misers fail to comprehend its use. Then comes the reply: “Do away with error, and your precepts become unnecessary.” That is wrong; for suppose that avarice is slackened, that luxury is confined, that rashness is reined in, and that laziness is pricked by the spur; even after vices are removed, we must continue to learn what we ought to do, and how we ought to do it. “Nothing,” it is said, “will be accomplished by applying advice to the more serious faults.” No; and not even medicine can master incurable diseases; it is nevertheless used in some cases as a remedy, in others as a relief. Not even the power of universal philosophy, though it summon all its strength for the purpose, will remove from the soul what is now a stubborn and chronic disease. But Wisdom, merely because she cannot cure everything, is not incapable of making cures. People say: “What good does it do to point out the obvious?” A great deal of good; for we sometimes know facts without paying attention to them. Advice is not teaching; it merely engages the attention and rouses us, and concentrates the memory, and keeps it from losing grip. We miss much that is set before our very eyes. Advice is, in fact, a sort of exhortation. The mind often tries not to notice even that which lies before our eyes; we must therefore force upon it the knowledge of things that are perfectly well known. One might repeat here the saying of Calvus about Vatinius: “You all know that bribery has been going on, and everyone knows that you know it.” You know that friendship should be scrupulously honoured, and yet you do not hold it in honour. You know that a man does wrong in requiring chastity of his wife while he himself is intriguing with the wives of other men; you know that, as your wife should have no dealings with a lover, neither should you yourself with a mistress; and yet you do not act accordingly. Hence, you must be continually brought to remember these facts; for they should not be in storage, but ready for use. And whatever is wholesome should be often discussed and often brought before the mind, so that it may be not only familiar to us, but also ready to hand. And remember, too, that in this way what is clear often becomes clearer. “But if,” comes the answer, “your precepts are not obvious, you will be bound to add proofs; hence the proofs, and not the precepts, will be helpful.” But cannot the influence of the monitor avail even without proofs? It is like the opinions of a legal expert, which hold good even though the reasons for them are not delivered. Moreover, the precepts which are given are of great weight in themselves, whether they be woven into the fabric of song, or condensed into prose proverbs, like the famous Wisdom of Cato: “Buy not what you need, but what you must have. That which you do not need, is dear even at a farthing.” Or those oracular or oracular-like replies, such as “Be thrifty with time!” “Know thyself!” Shall you need to be told the meaning when someone repeats to you lines like these: Forgetting trouble is the way to cure it. Fortune favours the brave, but the coward is foiled by his faint heart. Such maxims need no special pleader; they go straight to our emotions, and help us simply because Nature is exercising her proper function. The soul carries within itself the seed of everything that is honourable, and this seed is stirred to growth by advice, as a spark that is fanned by a gentle breeze develops its natural fire. Virtue is aroused by a touch, a shock. Moreover, there are certain things which, though in the mind, yet are not ready to hand but begin to function easily as soon as they are put into words. Certain things lie scattered about in various places, and it is impossible for the unpractised mind to arrange them in order. Therefore, we should bring them into unity, and join them, so that they may be more powerful and more of an uplift to the soul. Or, if precepts do not avail at all, then every method of instruction should be abolished, and we should be content with Nature alone. Those who maintain this view do not understand that one man is lively and alert of wit, another sluggish and dull, while certainly some men have more intelligence than others. The strength of the wit is nourished and kept growing by precepts; it adds new points of view to those which are inborn and corrects depraved ideas. “But suppose,” people retort, “that a man is not the possessor of sound dogmas, how can advice help him when he is chained down by vicious dogmas?” In this, assuredly, that he is freed therefrom; for his natural disposition has not been crushed, but over-shadowed and kept down. Even so it goes on endeavouring to rise again, struggling against the influences that make for evil; but when it wins support and receives the aid of precepts, it grows stronger, provided only that the chronic trouble has not corrupted or annihilated the natural man. For in such a case, not even the training that comes from philosophy, striving with all its might, will make restoration. What difference, indeed,—is there between the dogmas of philosophy and precepts, unless it be this—that the former are general and the latter special? Both deal with advice—the one through the universal, the other through the particular. Some say: “If one is familiar with upright and honourable dogmas, it will be superfluous to advise him.” By no means; for this person has indeed learned to do things which he ought to do; but he does not see with sufficient clearness what these things are. For we are hindered from accomplishing praiseworthy deeds not only by our emotions, but also by want of practice in discovering the demands of a particular situation. Our minds are often under good control, and yet at the same time are inactive and untrained in finding the path of duty,—and advice makes this clear. Again, it is written: “Cast out all false opinions concerning Good and Evil, but replace them with true opinions; then advice will have no function to perform.” Order in the soul can doubtless be established in this way; but these are not the only ways. For although we may infer by proofs just what Good and Evil are, nevertheless precepts have their proper rôle. Prudence and justice consist of certain duties; and duties are set in order by precepts. Moreover, judgment as to Good and Evil is itself strengthened by following up our duties, and precepts conduct us to this end. For both are in accord with each other; nor can precepts take the lead unless the duties follow. They observe their natural order; hence precepts clearly come first. “Precepts,” it is said “are numberless.” Wrong again! For they are not numberless so far as concerns important and essential things. Of course there are slight distinctions, due to the time, or the place, or the person; but even in these cases, precepts are given which have a general application. “No one, however,” it is said, “cures madness by precepts, and therefore not wickedness either.” There is a distinction; for if you rid a man of insanity, he becomes sane again, but if we have removed false opinions, insight into practical conduct does not at once follow. Even though it follows, counsel will none the less confirm one’s right opinion concerning Good and Evil. And it is also wrong to believe that precepts are of no use to madmen. For though, by themselves, they are of no avail, yet they are a help towards the cure. Both scolding and chastening rein in a lunatic. Note that I here refer to lunatics whose wits are disturbed but not hopelessly gone. “Still,” it is objected, “laws do not always make us do what we ought to do; and what else are laws than precepts mingled with threats?” Now first of all, the laws do not persuade just because they threaten; precepts, however, instead of coercing, correct men by pleading. Again, laws frighten one out of communicating crime, while precepts urge a man on to his duty. Besides, the laws also are of assistance towards good conduct, at any rate if they instruct as well as command. On this point I disagree with Posidonius, who says: “I do not think that Plato’s Laws should have the preambles added to them. For a law should be brief, in order that the uninitiated may grasp it all the more easily. It should be a voice, as it were, sent down from heaven; it should command, not discuss. Nothing seems to me more dull or more foolish than a law with a preamble. Warn me, tell me what you wish me to do; I am not learning but obeying.” But laws framed in this way are helpful; hence you will notice that a state with defective laws will have defective morals. “But,” it is said, “they are not of avail in every case.” Well neither is philosophy; and yet philosophy is not on that account ineffectual and useless in the training of the soul. Furthermore, is not philosophy the Law of Life? Grant, if we will, that the laws do not avail; it does not necessarily follow that advice also should not avail. On this ground, you ought to say that consolation does not avail, and warning, and exhortation, and scolding, and praising; since they are all varieties of advice. It is by such methods that we arrive at a perfect condition of mind. Nothing is more successful in bringing honourable influences to bear upon the mind, or in straightening out the wavering spirit that is prone to evil, than association with good men. For the frequent seeing, the frequent hearing of them little by little sinks into the heart and acquires the force of precepts. We are indeed uplifted merely by meeting wise men; and one can be helped by a great man even when he is silent. I could not easily tell you how it helps us, though I am certain of the fact that I have received help in that way. Phaedo says: “Certain tiny animals do not leave any pain when they sting us; so subtle is their power, so deceptive for purposes of harm. The bite is disclosed by a swelling, and even in the swelling there is no visible wound.” That will also be your experience when dealing with wise men, you will not discover how or when the benefit comes to you, but you will discover that you have received it. “What is the point of this remark?” you ask. It is, that good precepts, often welcomed within you, will benefit you just as much as good examples. Pythagoras declares that our souls experience a change when we enter a temple and behold the images of the gods face to face, and await the utterances of an oracle. Moreover, who can deny that even the most inexperienced are effectively struck by the force of certain precepts? For example, by such brief but weighty saws as: “Nothing in excess,” “The greedy mind is satisfied by no gains,” “You must expect to be treated by others as you yourself have treated them.” We receive a sort if shock when we hear such sayings; no one ever thinks of doubting them or of asking “Why?” So strongly, indeed, does mere truth, unaccompanied by reason, attract us. If reverence reins in the soul and checks vice, why cannot counsel do the same? Also, if rebuke gives one a sense of shame, why has not counsel the same power, even though it does use bare precepts? The counsel which assists suggestion by reason—which adds the motive for doing a given thing and the reward which awaits one who carries out and obeys such precepts is—more effective and settles deeper in the heart. If commands are helpful, so is advice. But one is helped by commands; therefore one is helped also by advice. Virtue is divided into two parts—into contemplation of truth, and conduct. Training teaches contemplation, and admonition teaches conduct. And right conduct both practises and reveals virtue. But if, when a man is about to act, he is helped by advice, he is also helped by admonition. Therefore, if right conduct is necessary to virtue, and if, moreover, admonition makes clear right conduct, then admonition also is an indispensable thing. There are two strong supports to the soul—trust in the truth and confidence; both are the result of admonition. For men believe it, and when belief is established, the soul receives great inspiration and is filled with confidence. Therefore, admonition is not superfluous. Marcus Agrippa, a great-souled man, the only person among those whom the civil wars raised to fame and power whose prosperity helped the state, used to say that he was greatly indebted to the proverb “Harmony makes small things grow; lack of harmony makes great things decay.” He held that he himself became the best of brothers and the best of friends by virtue of this saying. And if proverbs of such a kind, when welcomed intimately into the soul, can mould this very soul, why cannot the department of philosophy which consists of such proverbs possess equal influence? Virtue depends partly upon training and partly upon practice; you must learn first, and then strengthen your learning by action. If this be true, not only do the doctrines of wisdom help us but the precepts also, which check and banish our emotions by a sort of official decree. It is said: “Philosophy is divided into knowledge and state of mind. For one who has learned and understood what he should do and avoid, is not a wise man until his mind is metamorphosed into the shape of that which he has learned. This third department—that of precept—is compounded from both the others, from dogmas of philosophy and state of mind. Hence it is superfluous as far as the perfecting of virtue is concerned; the other two parts are enough for the purpose.” On that basis, therefore, even consolation would be superfluous, since this also is a combination of the other two, as likewise are exhortation, persuasion, and even proof itself. For proof also originates from a well-ordered and firm mental attitude. But, although these things result from a sound state of mind, yet the sound state of mind also results from them; it is both creative of them and resultant from them. Furthermore, that which you mention is the mark of an already perfect man, of one who has attained the height of human happiness. But the approach to these qualities is slow, and in the meantime in practical matters, the path should be pointed out for the benefit of one who is still short of perfection, but is making progress. Wisdom by her own agency may perhaps show herself this path without the help of admonition; for she has brought the soul to a stage where it can be impelled only in the right direction. Weaker characters, however, need someone to precede them, to say: “Avoid this,” or “Do that.” Moreover, if one awaits the time when one can know of oneself what the best line of action is, one will sometimes go astray and by going astray will be hindered from arriving at the point where it is possible to be content with oneself. The soul should accordingly be guided at the very moment when it is becoming able to guide itself. Boys study according to direction. Their fingers are held and guided by others so that they may follow the outlines of the letters; next, they are ordered to imitate a copy and base thereon a style of penmanship. Similarly, the mind is helped if it is taught according to direction. Such facts as these prove that this department of philosophy is not superfluous. The question next arises whether this part alone is sufficient to make men wise. The problem shall be treated at the proper time; but at present, omitting all arguments, is it not clear that we need someone whom we may call upon as our preceptor in opposition to the precepts of men in general? There is no word which reaches our ears without doing us harm; we are injured both by good wishes and by curses. The angry prayers of our enemies instil false fears in us; and the affection of our friends spoils us through their kindly wishes. For this affection sets us a-groping after goods that are far away, unsure, and wavering, when we really might open the store of happiness at home. We are not allowed, I maintain, to travel a straight road. Our parents and our slaves draw us into wrong. Nobody confines his mistakes to himself; people sprinkle folly among their neighbours, and receive it from them in turn. For this reason, in an individual, you find the vices of nations, because the nation has given them to the individual. Each man, in corrupting others, corrupts himself; he imbibes, and then imparts, badness:—the result is a vast mass of wickedness, because the worst in every separate person is concentrated in one mass. We should, therefore, have a guardian, as it were, to pluck us continually by the ear and dispel rumours and protest against popular enthusiasms. For you are mistaken if you suppose that our faults are inborn in us; they have come from without, have been heaped upon us. Hence, by receiving frequent admonitions, we can reject the opinions which din about our ears. Nature does not ally us with any vice; she produced us in health and freedom. She put before our eyes no object which might stir in us the itch of greed. She placed gold and silver beneath our feet, and bade those feet stamp down and crush everything that causes us to be stamped down and crushed. Nature elevated our gaze towards the sky and willed that we should look upward to behold her glorious and wonderful works. She gave us the rising and the setting sun, the whirling course of the on-rushing world which discloses the things of earth by day and the heavenly bodies by night, the movements of the stars, which are slow if you compare them with the universe, but most rapid if you reflect on the size of the orbits which they describe with unslackened speed; she showed us the successive eclipses of sun and moon, and other phenomena, wonderful because they occur regularly or because, through sudden causes they leap into view—such as nightly trails of fire, or flashes in the open heavens unaccompanied by stroke or sound of thunder, or columns and beams and the various phenomena of flames. She ordained that all these bodies should proceed above our heads; but gold and silver, with the iron which, because of the gold and silver, never brings peace, she has hidden away, as if they were dangerous things to trust to our keeping. It is we ourselves that have dragged them into the light of day to the end that we might fight over them; it is we ourselves who, tearing away the superincumbent earth, have dug out the causes and tools of our own destruction; it is we ourselves who have attributed our own misdeeds to Fortune, and do not blush to regard as the loftiest objects those which once lay in the depths of earth. Do you wish to know how false is the gleam that has deceived your eyes? There is really nothing fouler or more involved in darkness than these things of earth, sunk and covered for so long a time in the mud where they belong. Of course they are foul; they have been hauled out through a long and murky mine-shaft. There is nothing uglier than these metals during the process of refinement and separation from the ore. Furthermore, watch the very workmen who must handle and sift the barren grade of dirt, the sort which comes from the bottom; see how soot-besmeared they are! And yet the stuff they handle soils the soul more than the body, and there is more foulness in the owner than in the workman. It is therefore indispensable that we be admonished, that we have some advocate with upright mind, and, amid all the uproar and jangle of falsehood, hear one voice only. But what voice shall this be? Surely a voice which, amid all the tumult of self-seeking, shall whisper wholesome words into the deafened ear, saying: “You need not be envious of those whom the people call great and fortunate; applause need not disturb your composed attitude and your sanity of mind; you need not become disgusted with your calm spirit because you see a great man, clothed in purple, protected by the well-known symbols of authority; you need not judge the magistrate for whom the road is cleared to be any happier than yourself, whom his officer pushes from the road. If you would wield a command that is profitable to yourself, and injurious to nobody, clear your own faults out of the way. There are many who set fire to cities, who storm garrisons that have remained impregnable for generations and safe for numerous ages, who raise mounds as high as the walls they are besieging, who with battering-rams and engines shatter towers that have been reared to a wondrous height. There are many who can send their columns ahead and press destructively upon the rear of the foe, who can reach the Great Sea dripping with the blood of nations; but even these men, before they could conquer their foe, were conquered by their own greed. No one withstood their attack; but they themselves could not withstand desire for power and the impulse to cruelty; at the time when they seemed to be hounding others, they were themselves being hounded. Alexander was hounded into misfortune and dispatched to unknown countries by a mad desire to lay waste other men’s territory. Do you believe that the man was in his senses who could begin by devastating Greece, the land where he received his education? One who snatched away the dearest guerdon of each nation, bidding Spartans be slaves, and Athenians hold their tongues? Not content with the ruin of all the states which Philip had either conquered or bribed into bondage, he overthrew various commonwealths in various places and carried his weapons all over the world; his cruelty was tired, but it never ceased—like a wild beast that tears to pieces more than its hunger demands. Already he has joined many kingdoms into one kingdom; already Greeks and Persians fear the same lord; already nations Darius had left free submit to the yoke: yet he passes beyond the Ocean and the Sun, deeming it shame that he should shift his course of victory from the paths which Hercules and Bacchus had trod; he threatens violence to Nature herself. He does not wish to go; but he cannot stay; he is like a weight that falls headlong, its course ending only when it lies motionless. It was not virtue or reason which persuaded Gnaeus Pompeius to take part in foreign and civil warfare; it was his mad craving for unreal glory. Now he attacked Spain and the faction of Sertorius; now he fared forth to enchain the pirates and subdue the seas. These were merely excuses and pretexts for extending his power. What drew him into Africa, into the North, against Mithridates, into Armenia and all the corners of Asia? Assuredly it was his boundless desire to grow bigger; for only in his own eyes was he not great enough. And what impelled Gaius Caesar to the combined ruin of himself and of the state? Renown, self-seeking, and the setting no limit to pre-eminence over all other men. He could not allow a single person to outrank him, although the state allowed two men to stand at its head. Do you think that Gaius Marius, who was once consul (he received this office on one occasion, and stole it on all the others) courted all his perils by the inspiration of virtue when he was slaughtering the Teutons and the Cimbri, and pursuing Jugurtha through the wilds of Africa? Marius commanded armies, ambition Marius. When such men as these were disturbing the world, they were themselves disturbed—like cyclones that whirl together what they have seized, but which are first whirled themselves and can for this reason rush on with all the greater force, having no control over themselves; hence, after causing such destruction to others, they feel in their own body the ruinous force which has enabled them to cause havoc to many. You need never believe that a man can become happy through the unhappiness of another. We must unravel all such cases as are forced before our eyes and crammed into our ears; we must clear out our hearts, for they are full of evil talk. Virtue must be conducted into the place these have seized,—a kind of virtue which may root out falsehood and doctrines which contravene the truth, or may sunder us from the throng, in which we put too great trust, and may restore us to the possession of sound opinions. For this is wisdom—a return to Nature and a restoration to the condition from which man’s errors have driven us. It is a great part of health to have forsaken the counsellors of madness and to have fled far from a companionship that is mutually baneful. That you may know the truth of my remark, see how different is each individual’s life before the public from that of his inner self. A quiet life does not of itself give lessons in upright conduct; the countryside does not of itself teach plain living; no, but when witnesses and onlookers are removed, faults which ripen in publicity and display sink into the background. Who puts on the purple robe for the sake of flaunting it in no man’s eyes? Who uses gold plate when he dines alone? Who, as he flings himself down beneath the shadow of some rustic tree, displays in solitude the splendour of his luxury? No one makes himself elegant only for his own beholding, or even for the admiration of a few friends or relatives. Rather does he spread out his well-appointed vices in proportion to the size of the admiring crowd. It is so: claqueurs and witnesses are irritants of all our mad foibles. You can make us cease to crave, if you only make us cease to display. Ambition, luxury, and waywardness need a stage to act upon; you will cure all those ills if you seek retirement. Therefore, if our dwelling is situated amid the din of a city, there should be an adviser standing near us. When men praise great incomes, he should praise the person who can be rich with a slender estate and measures his wealth by the use he makes of it. In the face of those who glorify influence and power, he should of his own volition recommend a leisure devoted to study, and a soul which has left the external and found itself. He should point out persons, happy in the popular estimation, who totter on their envied heights of power, who are dismayed and hold a far different opinion of themselves from what others hold of them. That which others think elevated, is to them a sheer precipice. Hence they are frightened and in a flutter whenever they look down the abrupt steep of their greatness. For they reflect that there are various ways of falling and that the topmost point is the most slippery. Then they fear that for which they strove, and the good fortune which made them weighty in the eyes of others weighs more heavily upon themselves. Then they praise easy leisure and independence; they hate the glamour and try to escape while their fortunes are still unimpaired. Then at last you may see them studying philosophy amid their fear, and hunting sound advice when their fortunes go awry. For these two things are, as it were, at opposite poles—good fortune and good sense; that is why we are wiser when in the midst of adversity. It is prosperity that takes away righteousness. Farewell.

[1] Eam partem philosophiae quae dat propria cuique personae praecepta nec in universum componit hominem sed marito suadet quomodo se gerat adversus uxorem, patri quomodo educet liberos, domino quomodo servos regat, quidam solam receperunt, ceteras quasi extra utilitatem nostram vagantis reliquerunt, tamquam quis posset de parte suadere nisi qui summam prius totius vitae conplexus esset. [2] Ariston Stoicus e contrario hanc partem levem existimat et quae non descendat in pectus usque, anilia habentem praecepta; plurimum ait proficere ipsa decreta philosophiae constitutionemque summi boni; 'quam qui bene intellexit ac didicit quid in quaque re faciendum sit sibi ipse praecipit.' [3] Quemadmodum qui iaculari discit destinatum locum captat et manum format ad derigenda quae mittit, cum hanc vim ex disciplina et exercitatione percepit, quocumque vult illa utitur (didicit enim non hoc aut illud ferire sed quodcumque voluerit), sic qui se ad totam vitam instruxit non desiderat particulatim admoneri, doctus in totum, non enim quomodo cum uxore aut cum filio viveret sed quomodo bene viveret: in hoc est et quomodo cum uxore ac liberis vivat. [4] Cleanthes utilem quidem iudicat et hanc partem, sed inbecillam nisi ab universo fluit, nisi decreta ipsa philosophiae et capita cognovit. In duas ergo quaestiones locus iste dividitur: utrum utilis an inutilis sit, et an solus virum bonum possit efficere, id est utrum supervacuus sit an omnis faciat supervacuos. [5] Qui hanc partem videri volunt supervacuam hoc aiunt: si quid oculis oppositum moratur aciem, removendum est; illo quidem obiecto operam perdit qui praecipit 'sic ambulabis, illo manum porriges'. Eodem modo ubi aliqua res occaecat animum et ad officiorum dispiciendum ordinem inpedit, nihil agit qui praecipit 'sic vives cum patre, sic cum uxore'. Nihil enim proficient praecepta quamdiu menti error offusus est: si ille discutitur, apparebit quid cuique debeatur officio. Alioqui doces illum quid sano faciendum sit, non efficis sanum. [6] Pauperi ut agat divitem monstras: hoc quomodo manente paupertate fieri potest? Ostendis esurienti quid tamquam satur faciat: fixam potius medullis famem detrahe. Idem tibi de omnibus vitiis dico: ipsa removenda sunt, non praecipiendum quod fieri illis manentibus non potest. Nisi opiniones falsas quibus laboramus expuleris, nec avarus quomodo pecunia utendum sit exaudiet nec timidus quomodo periculosa contemnat. [7] Efficias oportet ut sciat pecuniam nec bonum nec malum esse; ostendas illi miserrimos divites; efficias ut quidquid publice expavimus sciat non esse tam timendum quam fama circumfert, nec <diu> dolere quemquam nec mori saepe: in morte, quam pati lex est, magnum esse solacium quod ad neminem redit; in dolore pro remedio futuram obstinationem animi, qui levius sibi facit quidquid contumaciter passus est; optimam doloris esse naturam, quod non potest nec qui extenditur magnus esse nec qui est magnus extendi; omnia fortiter excipienda quae nobis mundi necessitas imperat. [8] His decretis cum illum in conspectum suae condicionis adduxeris et cognoverit beatam esse vitam non quae secundum voluptatem est sed secundum naturam, cum virtutem unicum bonum hominis adamaverit, turpitudinem solum malum fugerit, reliqua omnia — divitias, honores, bonam valetudinem, vires, imperia — scierit esse mediam partem nec bonis adnumerandam nec malis, monitorem non desiderabit ad singula qui dicat 'sic incede, sic cena; hoc viro, hoc feminae, hoc marito, hoc caelibi convenit'. [9] Ista enim qui diligentissime monent ipsi facere non possunt; haec paedagogus puero, haec avia nepoti praecipit, et irascendum non esse magister iracundissimus disputat. Si ludum litterarium intraveris, scies ista quae ingenti supercilio philosophi iactant in puerili esse praescripto. [10] Utrum deinde manifesta an dubia praecipies? Non desiderant manifesta monitorem, praecipienti dubia non creditur; supervacuum est ergo praecipere. Id adeo sic disce: si id mones quod obscurum est et ambiguum, probationibus adiuvandum erit; si probaturus es, illa per quae probas plus valent satisque per se sunt. [11] 'Sic amico utere, sic cive, sic socio.' 'Quare?' 'Quia iustum est.' Omnia ista mihi de iustitia locus tradit: illic invenio aequitatem per se expetendam, nec metu nos ad illam cogi nec mercede conduci, non esse iustum cui quidquam in hac virtute placet praeter ipsam. Hoc cum persuasi mihi et perbibi, quid ista praecepta proficiunt quae eruditum docent? praecepta dare scienti supervacuum est, nescienti parum; audire enim debet non tantum quid sibi praecipiatur sed etiam quare. [12] Utrum, inquam, veras opiniones habenti de bonis malisque sunt necessaria an non habenti? Qui non habet nihil a te adiuvabitur, aures eius contraria monitionibus tuis fama possedit; qui habet exactum iudicium de fugiendis petendisque scit <quid> sibi faciendum sit etiam te tacente. Tota ergo pars ista philosophiae summoveri potest. [13] Duo sunt propter quae delinquimus: aut inest animo pravis opinionibus malitia contracta aut, etiam si non est falsis occupatus, ad falsa proclivis est et cito specie quo non oportet trahente corrumpitur. Itaque debemus aut percurare mentem aegram et vitiis liberare aut vacantem quidem sed ad peiora pronam praeoccupare. Utrumque decreta philosophiae faciunt; ergo tale praecipiendi genus nil agit. [14] Praeterea si praecepta singulis damus, inconprehensibile opus est; alia enim dare debemus feneranti, alia colenti agrum, alia negotianti, alia regum amicitias sequenti, alia pares, alia inferiores amaturo. [15] In matrimonio praecipies quomodo vivat cum uxore aliquis quam virginem duxit, quomodo cum ea quae alicuius ante matrimonium experta est, quemadmodum cum locuplete, quemadmodum cum indotata. An non putas aliquid esse discriminis inter sterilem et fecundam, inter provectiorem et puellam, inter matrem et novercam? Omnis species conplecti non possumus: atqui singulae propria exigunt, leges autem philosophiae breves sunt et omnia alligant. [16] Adice nunc quod sapientiae praecepta finita debent esse et certa; si qua finiri non possunt, extra sapientiam sunt; sapientia rerum terminos novit. Ergo ista praeceptiva pars summovenda est, quia quod paucis promittit praestare omnibus non potest; sapientia autem omnis tenet. [17] Inter insaniam publicam et hanc quae medicis traditur nihil interest nisi quod haec morbo laborat, illa opinionibus falsis; altera causas furoris traxit ex valetudine, altera animi mala valetudo est. Si quis furioso praecepta det quomodo loqui debeat, quomodo procedere, quomodo in publico se gerere, quomodo in privato, erit ipso quem monebit insanior: [si] bilis nigra curanda est et ipsa furoris causa removenda. Idem in hoc alio animi furore faciendum est: ipse discuti debet; alioqui abibunt in vanum monentium verba. [18] Haec ab Aristone dicuntur; cui respondebimus ad singula. Primum adversus illud quod ait, si quid obstat oculo et inpedit visum, debere removeri, fateor huic non opus esse praeceptis ad videndum, sed remedio quo purgetur acies et officientem sibi moram effugiat; natura enim videmus, cui usum sui reddit qui removit obstantia; quid autem cuique debeatur officio natura non docet. [19] Deinde cuius curata suffusio est, is non protinus cum visum recepit aliis quoque potest reddere: malitia liberatus et liberat. Non opus est exhortatione, ne consilio quidem, ut colorum proprietates oculus intellegat; a nigro album etiam nullo monente distinguet. Multis contra praeceptis eget animus ut videat quid agendum sit in vita. Quamquam oculis quoque aegros medicus non tantum curat sed etiam monet. [20] 'Non est' inquit 'quod protinus inbecillam aciem committas inprobo lumini; a tenebris primum ad umbrosa procede, deinde plus aude et paulatim claram lucem pati adsuesce. Non est quod post cibum studeas, non est quod plenis oculis ac tumentibus imperes; adflatum et vim frigoris in os occurrentis evita' — alia eiusmodi, quae non minus quam medicamenta proficiunt. Adicit remediis medicina consilium. [21] 'Error' inquit 'est causa peccandi: hunc nobis praecepta non detrahunt nec expugnant opiniones de bonis ac malis falsas.' Concedo per se efficacia praecepta non esse ad evertendam pravam animi persuasionem; sed non ideo <non> aliis quidem adiecta proficiunt. Primum memoriam renovant; deinde quae in universo confusius videbantur in partes divisa diligentius considerantur. Aut [in] isto modo licet et consolationes dicas supervacuas et exhortationes: atqui non sunt supervacuae; ergo ne monitiones quidem. [22] 'Stultum est' inquit 'praecipere aegro quid facere tamquam sanus debeat, cum restituenda sanitas sit, sine qua inrita sunt praecepta.' Quid quod habent aegri quaedam sanique communia de quibus admonendi sunt? tamquam ne avide cibos adpetant, ut lassitudinem vitent. Habent quaedam praecepta communia pauper et dives. [23] 'Sana' inquit 'avaritiam, et nihil habebis quod admoneas aut pauperem aut divitem, si cupiditas utriusque consedit.' Quid quod aliud est non concupiscere pecuniam, aliud uti pecunia scire? cuius avari modum ignorant, etiam non avari usum. 'Tolle' inquit 'errores: supervacua praecepta sunt.' Falsum est. Puta enim avaritiam relaxatam, puta adstrictam esse luxuriam, temeritati frenos iniectos, ignaviae subditum calcar: etiam remotis vitiis, quid et quemadmodum debeamus facere discendum est. [24] 'Nihil' inquit 'efficient monitiones admotae gravibus vitiis.' Ne medicina quidem morbos insanabiles vincit, tamen adhibetur aliis in remedium, aliis in levamentum. Ne ipsa quidem universae philosophiae vis, licet totas in hoc vires suas advocet, duram iam et veterem animis extrahet pestem; sed non ideo nihil sanat quia non omnia. [25] 'Quid prodest' inquit 'aperta monstrare?' Plurimum; interdum enim scimus nec adtendimus. Non docet admonitio sed advertit, sed excitat, sed memoriam continet nec patitur elabi. Pleraque ante oculos posita transimus: admonere genus adhortandi est. Saepe animus etiam aperta dissimulat; ingerenda est itaque illi notitia rerum notissimarum. Illa hoc loco in Vatinium Calvi repetenda sententia est: 'factum esse ambitum scitis, et hoc vos scire omnes sciunt'. [26] Scis amicitias sancte colendas esse, sed non facis. Scis inprobum esse qui ab uxore pudicitiam exigit, ipse alienarum corruptor uxorum; scis ut illi nil cum adultero, sic tibi nil esse debere cum paelice, et non facis. Itaque subinde ad memoriam reducendus es; non enim reposita illa esse oportet sed in promptu. Quaecumque salutaria sunt saepe agitari debent, saepe versari, ut non tantum nota sint nobis sed etiam parata. Adice nunc quod aperta quoque apertiora fieri solent. [27] 'Si dubia sunt' inquit 'quae praecipis, probationes adicere debebis; ergo illae, non praecepta proficient.' Quid quod etiam sine probationibus ipsa monentis auctoritas prodest? sic quomodo iurisconsultorum valent responsa, etiam si ratio non redditur. Praeterea ipsa quae praecipiuntur per se multum habent ponderis, utique si aut carmini intexta sunt aut prosa oratione in sententiam coartata, sicut illa Catoniana: 'emas non quod opus est, sed quod necesse est; quod non opus est asse carum est', qualia sunt illa aut reddita oraculo aut similia: [28] 'tempori parce', 'te nosce'. Numquid rationem exiges cum tibi aliquis hos dixerit versus? Advocatum ista non quaerunt: adfectus ipsos tangunt et natura vim suam exercente proficiunt. [29] Omnium honestarum rerum semina animi gerunt, quae admonitione excitantur non aliter quam scintilla flatu levi adiuta ignem suum explicat; erigitur virtus cum tacta est et inpulsa. Praeterea quaedam sunt quidem in animo, sed parum prompta, quae incipiunt in expedito esse cum dicta sunt; quaedam diversis locis iacent sparsa, quae contrahere inexercitata mens non potest. Itaque in unum conferenda sunt et iungenda, ut plus valeant animumque magis adlevent. [30] Aut si praecepta nihil adiuvant, omnis institutio tollenda est; ipsa natura contenti esse debemus. Hoc qui dicunt non vident alium esse ingenii mobilis et erecti, alium tardi et hebetis, utique alium alio ingeniosiorem. Ingenii vis praeceptis alitur et crescit novasque persuasiones adicit innatis et depravata corrigit. [31] 'Si quis' inquit 'non habet recta decreta, quid illum admonitiones iuvabunt vitiosis obligatum?' Hoc scilicet, ut illis liberetur; non enim extincta in illo indoles naturalis est sed obscurata et oppressa. Sic quoque temptat resurgere et contra prava nititur, nacta vero praesidium et adiuta praeceptis evalescit, si tamen illam diutina pestis non infecit nec enecuit; hanc enim ne disciplina quidem philosophiae toto impetu suo conisa restituet. Quid enim interest inter decreta philosophiae et praecepta nisi quod illa generalia praecepta sunt, haec specialia? Utraque res praecipit, sed altera in totum, particulatim altera. [32] 'Si quis' inquit 'recta habet et honesta decreta, hic ex supervacuo monetur.' Minime; nam hic quoque doctus quidem est facere quae debet, sed haec non satis perspicit. Non enim tantum adfectibus inpedimur quominus probanda faciamus sed inperitia inveniendi quid quaeque res exigat. Habemus interdum compositum animum, sed residem et inexercitatum ad inveniendam officiorum viam, quam admonitio demonstrat. [33] 'Expelle' inquit 'falsas opiniones de bonis et malis, in locum autem earum veras repone, et nihil habebit admonitio quod agat.' Ordinatur sine dubio ista ratione animus, sed non ista tantum; nam quamvis argumentis collectum sit quae bona malaque sint, nihilominus habent praecepta partes suas. Et prudentia et iustitia officiis constat: officia praeceptis disponuntur. [34] Praeterea ipsum de malis bonisque iudicium confirmatur officiorum exsecutione, ad quam praecepta perducunt. Utraque enim inter se consentiunt: nec illa possunt praecedere ut non haec sequantur, et haec ordinem sequuntur suum; unde apparet illa praecedere. [35] 'Infinita' inquit 'praecepta sunt.' Falsum est; nam de maximis ac necessariis rebus non sunt infinita; tenues autem differentias habent quas exigunt tempora, loca, personae, sed his quoque dantur praecepta generalia. [36] 'Nemo', inquit, 'praeceptis curat insaniam; ergo ne malitiam quidem.' Dissimile est; nam si insaniam sustuleris, sanitas reddita est; si falsas opiniones exclusimus, non statim sequitur dispectus rerum agendarum; ut sequatur, tamen admonitio conroborabit rectam de bonis malisque sententiam. Illud quoque falsum est, nihil apud insanos proficere praecepta. Nam quemadmodum sola non prosunt, sic curationem adiuvant; et denuntiatio et castigatio insanos coercuit — de illis nunc insanis loquor quibus mens mota est, non erepta. [37] 'Leges' inquit 'ut faciamus quod oportet non efficiunt, et quid aliud sunt quam minis mixta praecepta?' Primum omnium ob hoc illae non persuadent quia minantur, at haec non cogunt sed exorant; deinde leges a scelere deterrent, praecepta in officium adhortantur. His adice quod leges quoque proficiunt ad bonos mores, utique si non tantum imperant sed docent. [38] In hac re dissentio a Posidonio, qui <'improbo' inquit> 'quod Platonis legibus adiecta principia sunt. Legem enim brevem esse oportet, quo facilius ab inperitis teneatur. Velut emissa divinitus vox sit: iubeat, non disputet. Nihil videtur mihi frigidius, nihil ineptius quam lex cum prologo. Mone, dic quid me velis fecisse: non disco sed pareo.' Proficiunt vero; itaque malis moribus uti videbis civitates usas malis legibus. [39] 'At non apud omnis proficiunt.' Ne philosophia quidem; nec ideo inutilis et formandis animis inefficax est. Quid autem? philosophia non vitae lex est? Sed putemus non proficere leges: non ideo sequitur ut ne monitiones quidem proficiant. Aut sic et consolationes nega proficere dissuasionesque et adhortationes et obiurgationes et laudationes. Omnia ista monitionum genera sunt; per ista ad perfectum animi statum pervenitur. [40] Nulla res magis animis honesta induit dubiosque et in pravum inclinabiles revocat ad rectum quam bonorum virorum conversatio; paulatim enim descendit in pectora et vim praeceptorum obtinet frequenter aspici, frequenter audiri. Occursus mehercules ipse sapientium iuvat, et est aliquid quod ex magno viro vel tacente proficias. [41] Nec tibi facile dixerim quemadmodum prosit, sicut illud intellegam profuisse. 'Minuta quaedam' ut ait Phaedon 'animalia cum mordent non sentiuntur, adeo tenuis illis et fallens in periculum vis est; tumor indicat morsum et in ipso tumore nullum vulnus apparet.' Idem tibi in conversatione virorum sapientium eveniet: non deprehendes quemadmodum aut quando tibi prosit, profuisse deprendes. [42] 'Quorsus' inquis 'hoc pertinet?' Aeque praecepta bona, si saepe tecum sint, profutura quam bona exempla. Pythagoras ait alium animum fieri intrantibus templum deorumque simulacra ex vicino cernentibus et alicuius oraculi opperientibus vocem. [43] Quis autem negabit feriri quibusdam praeceptis efficaciter etiam inperitissimos? velut his brevissimis vocibus, sed multum habentibus ponderis: Haec cum ictu quodam audimus, nec ulli licet dubitare aut interrogare 'quare?'; adeo etiam sine ratione ipsa veritas lucet. [44] Si reverentia frenat animos ac vitia conpescit, cur non et admonitio idem possit? Si inponit pudorem castigatio, cur admonitio non faciat, etiam si nudis praeceptis utitur? Illa vero efficacior est et altius penetrat quae adiuvat ratione quod praecipit, quae adicit quare quidque faciendum sit et quis facientem oboedientemque praeceptis fructus expectet. Si imperio proficitur, et admonitione; atqui proficitur imperio; ergo et admonitione. [45] In duas partes virtus dividitur, in contemplationem veri et actionem: contemplationem institutio tradit, actionem admonitio. Virtutem et exercet et ostendit recta actio. Acturo autem si prodest qui suadet, et qui monet proderit. Ergo si recta actio virtuti necessaria est, rectas autem actiones admonitio demonstrat, et admonitio necessaria est. [46] Duae res plurimum roboris animo dant, fides veri et fiducia: utramque admonitio facit. Nam et creditur illi et, cum creditum est, magnos animus spiritus concipit ac fiducia impletur; ergo admonitio non est supervacua. M. Agrippa, vir ingentis animi, qui solus ex iis quos civilia bella claros potentesque fecerunt felix in publicum fuit, dicere solebat multum se huic debere sententiae: 'nam concordia parvae res crescunt, discordia maximae dilabuntur'. [47] Hac se aiebat et fratrem et amicum optimum factum. Si eiusmodi sententiae familiariter in animum receptae formant eum, cur non haec pars philosophiae quae talibus sententiis constat idem possit? Pars virtutis disciplina constat, pars exercitatione; et discas oportet et quod didicisti agendo confirmes. Quod si est, non tantum scita sapientiae prosunt sed etiam praecepta, quae adfectus nostros velut edicto coercent et ablegant. [48] 'Philosophia' inquit 'dividitur in haec, scientiam et habitum animi; nam qui didicit et facienda ac vitanda percepit nondum sapiens est nisi in ea quae didicit animus eius transfiguratus est. Tertia ista pars praecipiendi ex utroque est, et ex decretis et ex habitu; itaque supervacua est ad implendam virtutem, cui duo illa sufficiunt.' [49] Isto ergo modo et consolatio supervacua est (nam haec quoque ex utroque est) et adhortatio et suasio et ipsa argumentatio; nam et haec ab habitu animi compositi validique proficiscitur. Sed quamvis ista ex optimo habitu animi veniant, optimus animi habitus ex his est; et facit illa et ex illis ipse fit. [50] Deinde istud quod dicis iam perfecti viri est ac summam consecuti felicitatis humanae. Ad haec autem tarde pervenitur; interim etiam inperfecto sed proficienti demonstranda est in rebus agendis via. Hanc forsitan etiam sine admonitione dabit sibi ipsa sapientia, quae iam eo perduxit animum ut moveri nequeat nisi in rectum. Inbecillioribus quidem ingeniis necessarium est aliquem praeire: 'hoc vitabis, hoc facies'. [51] Praeterea si expectat tempus quo per se sciat quid optimum factu sit, interim errabit et errando inpedietur quominus ad illud perveniat quo possit se esse contentus; regi ergo debet dum incipit posse se regere. Pueri ad praescriptum discunt; digiti illorum tenentur et aliena manu per litterarum simulacra ducuntur, deinde imitari iubentur proposita et ad illa reformare chirographum: sic animus noster, dum eruditur ad praescriptum, iuvatur. [52] Haec sunt per quae probatur hanc philosophiae partem supervacuam non esse. Quaeritur deinde an ad faciendum sapientem sola sufficiat. Huic quaestioni suum diem dabimus: interim omissis argumentis nonne apparet opus esse nobis aliquo advocato qui contra populi praecepta praecipiat? [53] Nulla ad aures nostras vox inpune perfertur: nocent qui optant, nocent qui execrantur. Nam et horum inprecatio falsos nobis metus inserit et illorum amor male docet bene optando; mittit enim nos ad longinqua bona et incerta et errantia, cum possimus felicitatem domo promere. [54] Non licet, inquam, ire recta via; trahunt in pravum parentes, trahunt servi. Nemo errat uni sibi, sed dementiam spargit in proximos accipitque invicem. Et ideo in singulis vitia populorum sunt quia illa populus dedit. Dum facit quisque peiorem, factus est; didicit deteriora, dein docuit, effectaque est ingens illa nequitia congesto in unum quod cuique pessimum scitur. [55] Sit ergo aliquis custos et aurem subinde pervellat abigatque rumores et reclamet populis laudantibus. Erras enim si existimas nobiscum vitia nasci: supervenerunt, ingesta sunt. Itaque monitionibus crebris opiniones quae nos circumsonant repellantur. [56] Nulli nos vitio natura conciliat: illa integros ac liberos genuit. Nihil quo avaritiam nostram inritaret posuit in aperto: pedibus aurum argentumque subiecit calcandumque ac premendum dedit quidquid est propter quod calcamur ac premimur. Illa vultus nostros erexit ad caelum et quidquid magnificum mirumque fecerat videri a suspicientibus voluit: ortus occasusque et properantis mundi volubilem cursum, interdiu terrena aperientem, nocte caelestia, tardos siderum incessus si compares toti, citatissimos autem si cogites quanta spatia numquam intermissa velocitate circumeant, defectus solis ac lunae invicem obstantium, alia deinceps digna miratu, sive per ordinem subeunt sive subitis causis mota prosiliunt, ut nocturnos ignium tractus et sine ullo ictu sonituque fulgores caeli patescentis columnasque ac trabes et varia simulacra flammarum. [57] Haec supra nos natura disposuit, aurum quidem et argentum et propter ista numquam pacem agens ferrum, quasi male nobis committerentur, abscondit. Nos in lucem propter quae pugnaremus extulimus, nos et causas periculorum nostrorum et instrumenta disiecto terrarum pondere eruimus, nos fortunae mala nostra tradidimus nec erubescimus summa apud nos haberi quae fuerant ima terrarum. [58] Vis scire quam falsus oculos tuos deceperit fulgor? nihil est istis quamdiu mersa et involuta caeno suo iacent foedius, nihil obscurius, quidni? quae per longissimorum cuniculorum tenebras extrahuntur; nihil est illis dum fiunt et a faece sua separantur informius. Denique ipsos opifices intuere per quorum manus sterile terrae genus et infernum perpurgatur: videbis quanta fuligine oblinantur. [59] Atqui ista magis inquinant animos quam corpora, et in possessore eorum quam in artifice plus sordium est. Necessarium itaque admoneri est, habere aliquem advocatum bonae mentis et in tanto fremitu tumultuque falsorum unam denique audire vocem. Quae erit illa vox? ea scilicet quae tibi tantis clamoribus ambitionis exsurdato salubria insusurret verba, quae dicat: [60] non est quod invideas istis quos magnos felicesque populus vocat, non est quod tibi compositae mentis habitum et sanitatem plausus excutiat, non est quod tibi tranquillitatis tuae fastidium faciat ille sub illis fascibus purpura cultus, non est quod feliciorem eum iudices cui summovetur quam te quem lictor semita deicit. Si vis exercere tibi utile, nulli autem grave imperium, summove vitia. [61] Multi inveniuntur qui ignem inferant urbibus, qui inexpugnabilia saeculis et per aliquot aetates tuta prosternant, qui aequum arcibus aggerem attollant et muros in miram altitudinem eductos arietibus ac machinis quassent. Multi sunt qui ante se agant agmina et tergis hostium [et] graves instent et ad mare magnum perfusi caede gentium veniant, sed hi quoque, ut vincerent hostem, cupiditate victi sunt. Nemo illis venientibus restitit, sed nec ipsi ambitioni crudelitatique restiterant; tunc cum agere alios visi sunt, agebantur. [62] Agebat infelicem Alexandrum furor aliena vastandi et ad ignota mittebat. An tu putas sanum qui a Graeciae primum cladibus, in qua eruditus est, incipit? qui quod cuique optimum est eripit, Lacedaemona servire iubet, Athenas tacere? Non contentus tot civitatium strage, quas aut vicerat Philippus aut emerat, alias alio loco proicit et toto orbe arma circumfert; nec subsistit usquam lassa crudelitas inmanium ferarum modo quae plus quam exigit fames mordent. [63] Iam in unum regnum multa regna coniecit, iam Graeci Persaeque eundem timent, iam etiam a Dareo liberae nationes iugum accipiunt; it tamen ultra oceanum solemque, indignatur ab Herculis Liberique vestigiis victoriam flectere, ipsi naturae vim parat. Non ille ire vult, sed non potest stare, non aliter quam in praeceps deiecta pondera, quibus eundi finis est iacuisse. [64] Ne Gnaeo quidem Pompeio externa bella ac domestica virtus aut ratio suadebat, sed insanus amor magnitudinis falsae. Modo in Hispaniam et Sertoriana arma, modo ad colligandos piratas ac maria pacanda vadebat: hae praetexebantur causae ad continuandam potentiam. [65] Quid illum in Africam, quid in septentrionem, quid in Mithridaten et Armeniam et omnis Asiae angulos traxit? infinita scilicet cupido crescendi, cum sibi uni parum magnus videretur. Quid C. Caesarem in sua fata pariter ac publica inmisit? gloria et ambitio et nullus supra ceteros eminendi modus. Unum ante se ferre non potuit, cum res publica supra se duos ferret. [66] Quid, tu C. Marium semel consulem (unum enim consulatum accepit, ceteros rapuit), cum Teutonos Cimbrosque concideret, cum Iugurtham per Africae deserta sequeretur, tot pericula putas adpetisse virtutis instinctu? Marius exercitus, Marium ambitio ducebat. [67] Isti cum omnia concuterent, concutiebantur turbinum more, qui rapta convolvunt sed ipsi ante volvuntur et ob hoc maiore impetu incurrunt quia nullum illis sui regimen est, ideoque, cum multis fuerunt malo, pestiferam illam vim qua plerisque nocuerunt ipsi quoque sentiunt. Non est quod credas quemquam fieri aliena infelicitate felicem. [68] Omnia ista exempla quae oculis atque auribus nostris ingeruntur retexenda sunt, et plenum malis sermonibus pectus exhauriendum; inducenda in occupatum locum virtus, quae mendacia et contra verum placentia exstirpet, quae nos a populo cui nimis credimus separet ac sinceris opinionibus reddat. Hoc est enim sapientia, in naturam converti et eo restitui unde publicus error expulerit. [69] Magna pars sanitatis est hortatores insaniae reliquisse et ex isto coitu invicem noxio procul abisse. Hoc ut esse verum scias, aspice quanto aliter unusquisque populo vivat, aliter sibi. Non est per se magistra innocentiae solitudo nec frugalitatem docent rura, sed ubi testis ac spectator abscessit, vitia subsidunt, quorum monstrari et conspici fructus est. [70] Quis eam quam nulli ostenderet induit purpuram? quis posuit secretam in auro dapem? quis sub alicuius arboris rusticae proiectus umbra luxuriae suae pompam solus explicuit? Nemo oculis suis lautus est, ne paucorum quidem aut familiarium, sed apparatum vitiorum suorum pro modo turbae spectantis expandit. [71] Ita est: inritamentum est omnium in quae insanimus admirator et conscius. Ne concupiscamus efficies si ne ostendamus effeceris. Ambitio et luxuria et inpotentia scaenam desiderant: sanabis ista si absconderis. [72] Itaque si in medio urbium fremitu conlocati sumus, stet ad latus monitor et contra laudatores ingentium patrimoniorum laudet parvo divitem et usu opes metientem. Contra illos qui gratiam ac potentiam attollunt otium ipse suspiciat traditum litteris et animum ab externis ad sua reversum. [73] Ostendat ex constitutione vulgi beatos in illo invidioso fastigio suo trementis et attonitos longeque aliam de se opinionem habentis quam ab aliis habetur; nam quae aliis excelsa videntur ipsis praerupta sunt. Itaque exanimantur et trepidant quotiens despexerunt in illud magnitudinis suae praeceps; cogitant enim varios casus et in sublimi maxime lubricos. [74] Tunc adpetita formidant et quae illos graves aliis reddit gravior ipsis felicitas incubat. Tunc laudant otium lene et sui iuris, odio est fulgor et fuga a rebus adhuc stantibus quaeritur. Tunc demum videas philosophantis metu et aegrae fortunae sana consilia. Nam quasi ista inter se contraria sint, bona fortuna et mens bona, ita melius in malis sapimus: secunda rectum auferunt. Vale.