Cicero's Tusculan Disputations
be easily supplied by the ground, and plants in great abundance, and of
incomparable sweetness. Add to this strength and health, as the
consequence of this abstemious way of living. Now, compare with this
those who sweat and belch, being crammed with eating, like fatted oxen;
then will you perceive that they who pursue pleasure most attain it
least; and that the pleasure of eating lies not in satiety, but
appetite.
XXXV. They report of Timotheus, a famous man at Athens, and the head of
the city, that having supped with Plato, and being extremely delighted
with his entertainment, on seeing him the next day, he said, "Your
suppers are not only agreeable while I partake of them, but the next
day also." Besides, the understanding is impaired when we are full with
overeating and drinking. There is an excellent epistle of Plato to
Dion's relations, in which there occurs as nearly as possible these
words: "When I came there, that happy life so much talked of, devoted
to Italian and Syracusan entertainments, was noways agreeable to me; to
be crammed twice a day, and never to have the night to yourself, and
the other things which are the accompaniments of this kind of life, by
which a man will never be made the wiser, but will be rendered much
less temperate; for it must be an extraordinary disposition that can be
temperate in such circumstances." How, then, can a life be pleasant
without prudence and temperance? Hence you discover the mistake of
Sardanapalus, the wealthiest king of the Assyrians, who ordered it to
be engraved on his tomb,
I still have what in food I did exhaust;
But what I left, though excellent, is lost.
"What less than this," says Aristotle, "could be inscribed on the tomb,
not of a king, but an ox?" He said that he possessed those things when
dead, which, in his lifetime, he could have no longer than while he was
enjoying them. Why, then, are riches desired? And wherein doth poverty
prevent us from being happy? In the want, I imagine, of statues,
pictures, and diversions. But if any one is delighted with these
things, have not the poor people the enjoyment of them more than they
who are the owners of them in the greatest abundance? For we have great
numbers of them displayed publicly in our city. And whatever store of
them private people have, they cannot have a great number, and they but
seldom see them, only when they go to their country seats; and some of
them must be stung to the heart when they consider how they came by
them. The day would fail me, should I be inclined to defend the cause
of poverty. The thing is manifest; and nature daily informs us how few
things there are, and how trifling they are, of which she really stands
in need.
XXXVI. Let us inquire, then, if obscurity, the want of power, or even
the being unpopular, can prevent a wise man from being happy. Observe
if popular favor, and this glory which they are so fond of, be not
attended with more uneasiness than pleasure. Our friend Demosthenes was
certainly very weak in declaring himself pleased with the whisper of a
woman who was carrying water, as is the custom in Greece, and who
whispered to another, "That is he--that is Demosthenes." What could be
weaker than this? and yet what an orator he was! But although he had
learned to speak to others, he had conversed but little with himself.
We may perceive, therefore, that popular glory is not desirable of
itself; nor is obscurity to be dreaded. "I came to Athens," saith
Democritus, "and there was no one there that knew me:" this was a
moderate and grave man who could glory in his obscurity. Shall
musicians compose their tunes to their own tastes? and shall a
philosopher, master of a much better art, seek to ascertain, not what
is most true, but what will please the people? Can anything be more
absurd than to despise the vulgar as mere unpolished mechanics, taken
singly, and to think them of consequence when collected into a body?
These wise men would contemn our ambitious pursuits and our vanities,
and would reject all the honors which the people could voluntarily
offer to them; but we know not how to despise them till we begin to
repent of having accepted them. There is an anecdote related by
Heraclitus, the natural philosopher, of Hermodorus, the chief of the
Ephesians, that he said "that all the Ephesians ought to be punished
with death for saying, when they had expelled Hermodorus out of their
city, that they would have no one among them better than another; but
that if there were any such, he might go elsewhere to some other
people." Is not this the case with the people everywhere? Do they not
hate every virtue that distinguishes itself? What! was not Aristides (I
had rather instance in the Greeks than ourselves) banished his country
for being eminently just? What troubles, then, are they free from who
have no connection whatever with the people? What is more agreeable
than a learned retirement? I speak of that learning which makes us
acquainted with the boundless extent of nature and the universe, and
which even while we remain in this world discovers to us both heaven,
earth, and sea.
XXXVII. If, then, honor and riches have no value, what is there else to
be afraid of? Banishment, I suppose; which is looked on as the greatest
evil. Now, if the evil of banishment proceeds not from ourselves, but
from the froward disposition of the people, I have just now declared
how contemptible it is. But if to leave one's country be miserable, the
provinces are full of miserable men, very few of the settlers in which
ever return to their country again. But exiles are deprived of their
property! What, then! has there not been enough said on bearing
poverty? But with regard to banishment, if we examine the nature of
things, not the ignominy of the name, how little does it differ from
constant travelling! in which some of the most famous philosophers have
spent their whole life, as Xenocrates, Crantor, Arcesilas, Lacydes,
Aristotle, Theophrastus, Zeno, Cleanthes, Chrysippus, Antipater,
Carneades, Panaetius, Clitomachus, Philo, Antiochus, Posidonius, and
innumerable others, who from their first setting-out never returned
home again. Now, what ignominy can a wise man be affected with (for it
is of such a one that I am speaking) who can be guilty of nothing which
deserves it? for there is no occasion to comfort one who is banished
for his deserts. Lastly, they can easily reconcile themselves to every
accident who measure all their objects and pursuits in life by the
standard of pleasure; so that in whatever place that is supplied, there
they may live happily. Thus what Teucer said may be applied to every
case:
"Wherever I am happy is my country."
Socrates, indeed, when he was asked where he belonged to, replied, "The
world;" for he looked upon himself as a citizen and inhabitant of the
whole world. How was it with T. Altibutius? Did he not follow his
philosophical studies with the greatest satisfaction at Athens,
although he was banished? which, however, would not have happened to
him if he had obeyed the laws of Epicurus and lived peaceably in the
republic. In what was Epicurus happier, living in his own country, than
Metrodorus, who lived at Athens? Or did Plato's happiness exceed that
of Xenocrates, or Polemo, or Arcesilas? Or is that city to be valued
much that banishes all her good and wise men? Demaratus, the father of
our King Tarquin, not being able to bear the tyrant Cypselus, fled from
Corinth to Tarquinii, settled there, and had children. Was it, then, an
unwise act in him to prefer the liberty of banishment to slavery at
home?
XXXVIII. Besides the emotions of the mind, all griefs and anxieties are
assuaged by forgetting them, and turning our thoughts to pleasure.
Therefore, it was not without reason that Epicurus presumed to say that
a wise man abounds with good things, because he may always have his
pleasures; from whence it follows, as he thinks, that that point is
gained which is the subject of our present inquiry, that a wise man is
always happy. What! though he should be deprived of the senses of
seeing and hearing? Yes; for he holds those things very cheap. For, in
the first place, what are the pleasures of which we are deprived by
that dreadful thing, blindness? For though they allow other pleasures
to be confined to the senses, yet the things which are perceived by the
sight do not depend wholly on the pleasure the eyes receive; as is the
case when we taste, smell, touch, or hear; for, in respect of all these
senses, the organs themselves are the seat of pleasure; but it is not
so with the eyes. For it is the mind which is entertained by what we
see; but the mind may be entertained in many ways, even though we could
not see at all. I am speaking of a learned and a wise man, with whom to
think is to live. But thinking in the case of a wise man does not
altogether require the use of his eyes in his investigations; for if
night does not strip him of his happiness, why should blindness, which
resembles night, have that effect? For the reply of Antipater the
Cyrenaic to some women who bewailed his being blind, though it is a
little too obscene, is not without its significance. "What do you
mean?" saith he; "do you think the night can furnish no pleasure?" And
we find by his magistracies and his actions that old Appius,[70] too,
who was blind for many years, was not prevented from doing whatever was
required of him with respect either to the republic or his own affairs.
It is said that C. Drusus's house was crowded with clients. When they
whose business it was could not see how to conduct themselves, they
applied to a blind guide.
XXXIX. When I was a boy, Cn. Aufidius, a blind man, who had served the
office of praetor, not only gave his opinion in the Senate, and was
ready to assist his friends, but wrote a Greek history, and had a
considerable acquaintance with literature. Diodorus the Stoic was
blind, and lived many years at my house. He, indeed, which is scarcely
credible, besides applying himself more than usual to philosophy, and
playing on the flute, agreeably to the custom of the Pythagoreans, and
having books read to him night and day, in all which he did not want
eyes, contrived to teach geometry, which, one would think, could hardly
be done without the assistance of eyes, telling his scholars how and
where to draw every line. They relate of Asclepiades, a native of
Eretria, and no obscure philosopher, when some one asked him what
inconvenience he suffered from his blindness, that his reply was, "He
was at the expense of another servant." So that, as the most extreme
poverty may be borne if you please, as is daily the case with some in
Greece, so blindness may easily be borne, provided you have the support
of good health in other respects. Democritus was so blind he could not
distinguish white from black; but he knew the difference between good
and evil, just and unjust, honorable and base, the useful and useless,
great and small. Thus one may live happily without distinguishing
colors; but without acquainting yourself with things, you cannot; and
this man was of opinion that the intense application of the mind was
taken off by the objects that presented themselves to the eye; and
while others often could not see what was before their feet, he
travelled through all infinity. It is reported also that Homer[71] was
blind, but we observe his painting as well as his poetry. What country,
what coast, what part of Greece, what military attacks, what
dispositions of battle, what array, what ship, what motions of men and
animals, can be mentioned which he has not described in such a manner
as to enable us to see what he could not see himself? What, then! can
we imagine that Homer, or any other learned man, has ever been in want