Cicero's Tusculan Disputations
of viciousness; but it is a question whether perturbations are parts of
the same, for vices are permanent affections: perturbations are such as
are restless; so that they cannot be parts of permanent ones. As there
is some analogy between the nature of the body and mind in evil, so is
there in good; for the distinctions of the body are beauty, strength,
health, firmness, quickness of motion: the same may be said of the
mind. The body is said to be in a good state when all those things on
which health depends are consistent: the same may be said of the mind
when its judgments and opinions are not at variance with one another.
And this union is the virtue of the mind, which, according to some
people, is temperance itself; others make it consist in an obedience to
the precepts of temperance, and a compliance with them, not allowing it
to be any distinct species of itself. But, be it one or the other, it
is to be found only in a wise man. But there is a certain soundness of
mind, which even a fool may have, when the perturbation of his mind is
removed by the care and management of his physicians. And as what is
called beauty arises from an exact proportion of the limbs, together
with a certain sweetness of complexion, so the beauty of the mind
consists in an equality and constancy of opinions and judgments, joined
to a certain firmness and stability, pursuing virtue, or containing
within itself the very essence of virtue. Besides, we give the very
same names to the faculties of the mind as we do to the powers of the
body, the nerves, and other powers of action. Thus the velocity of the
body is called swiftness: a praise which we ascribe to the mind, from
its running over in its thoughts so many things in so short a time.
XIV. Herein, indeed, the mind and body are unlike: that though the mind
when in perfect health may be visited by sickness, as the body may, yet
the body may be disordered without our fault; the mind cannot. For all
the disorders and perturbations of the mind proceed from a neglect of
reason; these disorders, therefore, are confined to men: the beasts are
not subject to such perturbations, though they act sometimes as if they
had reason. There is a difference, too, between ingenious and dull men;
the ingenious, like the Corinthian brass, which is long before it
receives rust, are longer before they fall into these perturbations,
and are recovered sooner: the case is different with the dull. Nor does
the mind of an ingenious man fall into every kind of perturbation, for
it never yields to any that are brutish and savage; and some of their
perturbations have at first even the appearance of humanity, as mercy,
grief, and fear. But the sicknesses and diseases of the mind are
thought to be harder to eradicate than those leading vices which are in
opposition to virtues; for vices may be removed, though the diseases of
the mind should continue, which diseases are not cured with that
expedition with which vices are removed. I have now acquainted you with
the arguments which the Stoics put forth with such exactness; which
they call logic, from their close arguing: and since my discourse has
got clear of these rocks, I will proceed with the remainder of it,
provided I have been sufficiently clear in what I have already said,
considering the obscurity of the subject I have treated.
_A._ Clear enough; but should there be occasion for a more exact
inquiry, I shall take another opportunity of asking you. I expect you
now to hoist your sails, as you just now called them, and proceed on
your course.
XV. _M._ Since I have spoken before of virtue in other places, and
shall often have occasion to speak again (for a great many questions
that relate to life and manners arise from the spring of virtue); and
since, as I say, virtue consists in a settled and uniform affection of
mind, making those persons praiseworthy who are possessed of her, she
herself also, independent of anything else, without regard to any
advantage, must be praiseworthy; for from her proceed good
inclinations, opinions, actions, and the whole of right reason; though
virtue may be defined in a few words to be right reason itself. The
opposite to this is viciousness (for so I choose to translate what the
Greeks call [Greek: kakia], rather than by perverseness; for
perverseness is the name of a particular vice; but viciousness includes
all), from whence arise those perturbations which, as I just now said,
are turbid and violent motions of the mind, repugnant to reason, and
enemies in a high degree to the peace of the mind and a tranquil life,
for they introduce piercing and anxious cares, and afflict and
debilitate the mind through fear; they violently inflame our hearts
with exaggerated appetite, which is in reality an impotence of mind,
utterly irreconcilable with temperance and moderation, which we
sometimes call desire, and sometimes lust, and which, should it even
attain the object of its wishes, immediately becomes so elated that it
loses all its resolution, and knows not what to pursue; so that he was
in the right who said "that exaggerated pleasure was the very greatest
of mistakes." Virtue, then, alone can effect the cure of these evils.
XVI. For what is not only more miserable, but more base and sordid,
than a man afflicted, weakened, and oppressed with grief? And little
short of this misery is one who dreads some approaching evil, and who,
through faintheartedness, is under continual suspense. The poets, to
express the greatness of this evil, imagine a stone to hang over the
head of Tantalus, as a punishment for his wickedness, his pride, and
his boasting. And this is the common punishment of folly; for there
hangs over the head of every one whose mind revolts from reason some
similar fear. And as these perturbations of the mind, grief and fear,
are of a most wasting nature, so those two others, though of a more
merry cast (I mean lust, which is always coveting something with
eagerness, and empty mirth, which is an exulting joy), differ very
little from madness. Hence you may understand what sort of person he is
whom we call at one time moderate, at another modest or temperate, at
another constant and virtuous; while sometimes we include all these
names in the word frugality, as the crown of all; for if that word did
not include all virtues, it would never have been proverbial to say
that a frugal man does everything rightly. But when the Stoics apply
this saying to their wise man, they seem to exalt him too much, and to
speak of him with too much admiration.
XVII. Whoever, then, through moderation and constancy, is at rest in
his mind, and in calm possession of himself, so as neither to pine with
care, nor be dejected with fear, nor to be inflamed with desire,
coveting something greedily, nor relaxed by extravagant mirth--such a
man is that identical wise man whom we are inquiring for: he is the
happy man, to whom nothing in this life seems intolerable enough to
depress him; nothing exquisite enough to transport him unduly. For what
is there in this life that can appear great to him who has acquainted
himself with eternity and the utmost extent of the universe? For what
is there in human knowledge, or the short span of this life, that can
appear great to a wise man? whose mind is always so upon its guard that
nothing can befall him which is unforeseen, nothing which is
unexpected, nothing, in short, which is new. Such a man takes so exact
a survey on all sides of him, that he always knows the proper place and
spot to live in free from all the troubles and annoyances of life, and
encounters every accident that fortune can bring upon him with a
becoming calmness. Whoever conducts himself in this manner will be free
from grief, and from every other perturbation; and a mind free from
these feelings renders men completely happy; whereas a mind disordered
and drawn off from right and unerring reason loses at once, not only
its resolution, but its health.--Therefore the thoughts and
declarations of the Peripatetics are soft and effeminate, for they say
that the mind must necessarily be agitated, but at the same time they
lay down certain bounds beyond which that agitation is not to proceed.
And do you set bounds to vice? or is it no vice to disobey reason? Does
not reason sufficiently declare that there is no real good which you
should desire too ardently, or the possession of which you should allow
to transport you? and that there is no evil that should be able to
overwhelm you, or the suspicion of which should distract you? and that
all these things assume too melancholy or too cheerful an appearance
through our own error? But if fools find this error lessened by time,
so that, though the cause remains the same, they are not affected, in
the same manner, after some time, as they were at first, why, surely a
wise man ought not to be influenced at all by it. But what are those
degrees by which we are to limit it? Let us fix these degrees in grief,
a difficult subject, and one much canvassed.--Fannius writes that P.
Rutilius took it much to heart that his brother was refused the
consulship; but he seems to have been too much affected by this
disappointment, for it was the occasion of his death: he ought,
therefore, to have borne it with more moderation. But let us suppose
that while he was bearing this with moderation, the death of his
children had intervened; here would have started a fresh grief, which,
admitting it to be moderate in itself, yet still must have been a great
addition to the other. Now, to these let us add some acute pains of
body, the loss of his fortune, blindness, banishment. Supposing, then,
each separate misfortune to occasion a separate additional grief, the
whole would be too great to be supportable.
XVIII. The man who attempts to set bounds to vice acts like one who
should throw himself headlong from Leucate, persuaded that he could
stop himself whenever he pleased. Now, as that is impossible, so a
perturbed and disordered mind cannot restrain itself, and stop where it
pleases. Certainly whatever is bad in its increase is bad in its birth.
Now grief and all other perturbations are doubtless baneful in their
progress, and have, therefore, no small share of evil at the beginning;
for they go on of themselves when once they depart from reason, for
every weakness is self-indulgent, and indiscreetly launches out, and
does not know where to stop. So that it makes no difference whether you
approve of moderate perturbations of mind, or of moderate injustice,
moderate cowardice, and moderate intemperance; for whoever prescribes
bounds to vice admits a part of it, which, as it is odious of itself,
becomes the more so as it stands on slippery ground, and, being once
set forward, glides on headlong, and cannot by any means be stopped.
XIX. Why should I say more? Why should I add that the Peripatetics say
that these perturbations, which we insist upon it should be extirpated,
are not only natural, but were given to men by nature for a good
purpose? They usually talk in this manner. In the first place, they say
much in praise of anger; they call it the whetstone of courage, and
they say that angry men exert themselves most against an enemy or
against a bad citizen: that those reasons are of little weight which
are the motives of men who think thus, as--it is a just war; it becomes
us to fight for our laws, our liberties, our country: they will allow
no force to these arguments unless our courage is warmed by anger.--Nor
do they confine their argument to warriors; but their opinion is that
no one can issue any rigid commands without some bitterness and anger.
In short, they have no notion of an orator either accusing or even
defending a client without he is spurred on by anger. And though this