Cicero's Tusculan Disputations
beginnings, and, as it were, seeds from which all things were produced
and composed; what was the origin of every kind of thing, whether
animate or inanimate, articulately speaking or mute; what occasioned
their beginning and end, and by what alteration and change one thing
was converted into another; whence the earth originated, and by what
weights it was balanced; by what caverns the seas were supplied; by
what gravity all things being carried down tend always to the middle of
the world, which in any round body is the lowest place.
XXV. A mind employed on such subjects, and which night and day
contemplates them, contains in itself that precept of the Delphic God,
so as to "know itself," and to perceive its connection with the divine
reason, from whence it is filled with an insatiable joy. For
reflections on the power and nature of the Gods raise in us a desire of
imitating their eternity. Nor does the mind, that sees the necessary
dependences and connections that one cause has with another, think it
possible that it should be itself confined to the shortness of this
life. Those causes, though they proceed from eternity to eternity, are
governed by reason and understanding. And he who beholds them and
examines them, or rather he whose view takes in all the parts and
boundaries of things, with what tranquillity of mind does he look on
all human affairs, and on all that is nearer him! Hence proceeds the
knowledge of virtue; hence arise the kinds and species of virtues;
hence are discovered those things which nature regards as the bounds
and extremities of good and evil; by this it is discovered to what all
duties ought to be referred, and which is the most eligible manner of
life. And when these and similar points have been investigated, the
principal consequence which is deduced from them, and that which is our
main object in this discussion, is the establishment of the point, that
virtue is of itself sufficient to a happy life.
The third qualification of our wise man is the next to be considered,
which goes through and spreads itself over every part of wisdom; it is
that whereby we define each particular thing, distinguish the genus
from its species, connect consequences, draw just conclusions, and
distinguish truth from falsehood, which is the very art and science of
disputing; which is not only of the greatest use in the examination of
what passes in the world, but is likewise the most rational
entertainment, and that which is most becoming to true wisdom. Such are
its effects in retirement. Now, let our wise man be considered as
protecting the republic; what can be more excellent than such a
character? By his prudence he will discover the true interests of his
fellow-citizens; by his justice he will be prevented from applying what
belongs to the public to his own use; and, in short, he will be ever
governed by all the virtues, which are many and various. To these let
us add the advantage of his friendships; in which the learned reckon
not only a natural harmony and agreement of sentiments throughout the
conduct of life, but the utmost pleasure and satisfaction in conversing
and passing our time constantly with one another. What can be wanting
to such a life as this to make it more happy than it is? Fortune
herself must yield to a life stored with such joys. Now, if it be a
happiness to rejoice in such goods of the mind, that is to say, in such
virtues, and if all wise men enjoy thoroughly these pleasures, it must
necessarily be granted that all such are happy.
XXVI. _A._ What, when in torments and on the rack?
_M._ Do you imagine I am speaking of him as laid on roses and violets?
Is it allowable even for Epicurus (who only puts on the appearance of
being a philosopher, and who himself assumed that name for himself) to
say (though, as matters stand, I commend him for his saying) that a
wise man might at all times cry out, though he be burned, tortured, cut
to pieces, "How little I regard it!" Shall this be said by one who
defines all evil as pain, and measures every good by pleasure; who
could ridicule whatever we call either honorable or base, and could
declare of us that we were employed about words, and uttering mere
empty sounds; and that nothing is to be regarded by us but as it is
perceived to be smooth or rough by the body? What! shall such a man as
this, as I said, whose understanding is little superior to the beasts',
be at liberty to forget himself; and not only to despise fortune, when
the whole of his good and evil is in the power of fortune, but to say
that he is happy in the most racking torture, when he had actually
declared pain to be not only the greatest evil, but the only one? Nor
did he take any trouble to provide himself with those remedies which
might have enabled him to bear pain, such as firmness of mind, a shame
of doing anything base, exercise, and the habit of patience, precepts
of courage, and a manly hardiness; but he says that he supports himself
on the single recollection of past pleasures, as if any one, when the
weather was so hot as that he was scarcely able to bear it, should
comfort himself by recollecting that he was once in my country,
Arpinum, where he was surrounded on every side by cooling streams. For
I do not apprehend how past pleasures can allay present evils. But when
he says that a wise man is always happy who would have no right to say
so if he were consistent with himself, what may they not do who allow
nothing to be desirable, nothing to be looked on as good but what is
honorable? Let, then, the Peripatetics and Old Academics follow my
example, and at length leave off muttering to themselves; and openly
and with a clear voice let them be bold to say that a happy life may
not be inconsistent with the agonies of Phalaris's bull.
XXVII. But to dismiss the subtleties of the Stoics, which I am sensible
I have employed more than was necessary, let us admit of three kinds of
goods; and let them really be kinds of goods, provided no regard is had
to the body and to external circumstances, as entitled to the
appellation of good in any other sense than because we are obliged to
use them: but let those other divine goods spread themselves far in
every direction, and reach the very heavens. Why, then, may I not call
him happy, nay, the happiest of men, who has attained them? Shall a
wise man be afraid of pain? which is, indeed, the greatest enemy to our
opinion. For I am persuaded that we are prepared and fortified
sufficiently, by the disputations of the foregoing days, against our
own death or that of our friends, against grief, and the other
perturbations of the mind. But pain seems to be the sharpest adversary
of virtue; that it is which menaces us with burning torches; that it is
which threatens to crush our fortitude, and greatness of mind, and
patience. Shall virtue, then, yield to this? Shall the happy life of a
wise and consistent man succumb to this? Good. Gods! how base would
this be! Spartan boys will bear to have their bodies torn by rods
without uttering a groan. I myself have seen at Lacedaemon troops of
young men, with incredible earnestness contending together with their
hands and feet, with their teeth and nails, nay, even ready to expire,
rather than own themselves conquered. Is any country of barbarians more
uncivilized or desolate than India? Yet they have among them some that
are held for wise men, who never wear any clothes all their life long,
and who bear the snow of Caucasus, and the piercing cold of winter,
without any pain; and who if they come in contact with fire endure
being burned without a groan. The women, too, in India, on the death of
their husbands have a regular contest, and apply to the judge to have
it determined which of them was best beloved by him; for it is
customary there for one man to have many wives. She in whose favor it
is determined exults greatly, and being attended by her relations, is
laid on the funeral pile with her husband; the others, who are
postponed, walk away very much dejected. Custom can never be superior
to nature, for nature is never to be got the better of. But our minds
are infected by sloth and idleness, and luxury, and languor, and
indolence: we have enervated them by opinions and bad customs. Who is
there who is unacquainted with the customs of the Egyptians? Their
minds being tainted by pernicious opinions, they are ready to bear any
torture rather than hurt an ibis, a snake, a cat, a dog, or a
crocodile; and should any one inadvertently have hurt any of these
animals, he will submit to any punishment. I am speaking of men only.
As to the beasts, do they not bear cold and hunger, running about in
woods, and on mountains and deserts? Will they not fight for their
young ones till they are wounded? Are they afraid of any attacks or
blows? I mention not what the ambitious will suffer for honor's sake,
or those who are desirous of praise on account of glory, or lovers to
gratify their lust. Life is full of such instances.
XXVIII. But let us not dwell too much on these questions, but rather
let us return to our subject. I say, and say again, that happiness will
submit even to be tormented; and that in pursuit of justice, and
temperance, and still more especially and principally fortitude, and
greatness of soul, and patience, it will not stop short at sight of the
executioner; and when all other virtues proceed calmly to the torture,
that one will never halt, as I said, on the outside and threshold of
the prison; for what can be baser, what can carry a worse appearance,
than to be left alone, separated from those beautiful attendants? Not,
however, that this is by any means possible; for neither can the
virtues hold together without happiness, nor happiness without the
virtues; so that they will not suffer her to desert them, but will
carry her along with them, to whatever torments, to whatever pain they
are led. For it is the peculiar quality of a wise man to do nothing
that he may repent of, nothing against his inclination, but always to
act nobly, with constancy, gravity, and honesty; to depend on nothing
as certainty; to wonder at nothing, when it falls out, as if it
appeared strange and unexpected to him; to be independent of every one,
and abide by his own opinion. For my part, I cannot form an idea of
anything happier than this. The conclusion of the Stoics is indeed
easy; for since they are persuaded that the end of good is to live
agreeably to nature, and to be consistent with that--as a wise man
should do so, not only because it is his duty, but because it is in his
power--it must, of course, follow that whoever has the chief good in
his power has his happiness so too. And thus the life of a wise man is
always happy. You have here what I think may be confidently said of a
happy life; and as things now stand, very truly also, unless you can
advance something better.
XXIX. _A._ Indeed I cannot; but I should be glad to prevail on you,
unless it is troublesome (as you are under no confinement from
obligations to any particular sect, but gather from all of them
whatever strikes you most as having the appearance of probability), as
you just now seemed to advise the Peripatetics and the Old Academy
boldly to speak out without reserve, "that wise men are always the
happiest"--I should be glad to hear how you think it consistent for
them to say so, when you have said so much against that opinion, and
the conclusions of the Stoics.
_M._ I will make use, then, of that liberty which no one has the
privilege of using in philosophy but those of our school, whose
discourses determine nothing, but take in everything, leaving them
unsupported by the authority of any particular person, to be judged of
by others, according to their weight. And as you seem desirous of