Minor Dialogues, Together With the Dialogue on Clemency
misery has driven them to idleness and to secret studies, which are
unendurable to a mind eager to take part in public affairs, desirous
of action and naturally restless, because, of course, it finds too
few resources within itself: when therefore it loses the amusement
which business itself affords to busy {257} men, it cannot endure
home, loneliness, or the walls of a room, and regards itself with
dislike when left to itself. Hence arises that weariness and
dissatisfaction with oneself, that tossing to and fro of a mind
which can nowhere find rest, that unhappy and unwilling endurance
of enforced leisure. In all cases where one feels ashamed to confess
the real cause of one’s suffering, and where modesty leads one to
drive one’s sufferings inward, the desires pent up in a little space
without any vent choke one another. Hence comes melancholy and
drooping of spirit, and a thousand waverings of the unsteadfast
mind, which is held in suspense by unfulfilled hopes, and saddened
by disappointed ones: hence comes the state of mind of those who
loathe their idleness, complain that they have nothing to do, and
view the progress of others with the bitterest jealousy: for an
unhappy sloth favours the growth of envy, and men who cannot succeed
themselves wish every one else to be ruined. This dislike of other
men’s progress and despair of one’s own produces a mind angered
against fortune, addicted to complaining of the age in which it
lives, to retiring into corners and brooding over its misery, until
it becomes sick and weary of itself: for the human mind is naturally
nimble and apt at movement: it delights in every opportunity of
excitement and forgetfulness of itself, and the worse a man’s
disposition the more he delights in this, because he likes to wear
himself out with busy action, just as some sores long for the hands
that injure them and delight in being touched, and the foul itch
enjoys anything that scratches it. Similarly I assure you that these
minds, over which desires have spread like evil ulcers, take pleasure
in toils and troubles, for there are some things which please our
body while at the same time they give it a certain amount of pain,
such as turning oneself over and changing one’s side before it is
wearied, or cooling oneself in one position after another. It is
like Homer’s Achilles, {258} lying first upon its face, then upon
its back, placing itself in various attitudes, and, as sick people
are wont, enduring none of them for long, and using changes as
though they were remedies. Hence men undertake aimless wanderings,
travel along distant shores, and at one time at sea, at another by
land, try to soothe that fickleness of disposition which always is
dissatisfied with the present. “Now let us make for Campania: now
I am sick of rich cultivation: let us see wild regions, let us
thread the passes of Bruttii and Lucania: yet amid this wilderness
one wants something of beauty to relieve our pampered eyes after
so long dwelling on savage wastes: let us seek Tarentum with its
famous harbour, its mild winter climate, and its district, rich
enough to support even the great hordes of ancient times. Let us
now return to town: our ears have too long missed its shouts and
noise: it would be pleasant also to enjoy the sight of human
bloodshed.” Thus one journey succeeds another, and one sight is
changed for another. As Lucretius says:—
“Thus every mortal from himself doth flee;”
but what does he gain by so doing if he does not escape from himself?
he follows himself and weighs himself down by his own most burdensome
companionship. We must understand, therefore, that what we suffer
from is not the fault of the places but of ourselves: we are weak
when there is anything to be endured, and cannot support either
labour or pleasure, either one’s own business or any one else’s for
long. This has driven some men to death, because by frequently
altering their purpose they were always brought back to the same
point, and had left themselves no room for anything new. They had
become sick of life and of the world itself, and as all indulgences
palled upon them they began to ask themselves the question, “How
long are we to go on doing the same thing?”
{259}
III. You ask me what I think we had better make use of to help us
to support this ennui. “The best thing,” as Athenodorus says, “is
to occupy oneself with business with the management of affairs of
state and the duties of a citizen: for as some pass the day in
exercising themselves in the sun and in taking care of their bodily
health, and athletes find it most useful to spend the greater part
of their time in feeding up the muscles and strength to whose
cultivation they have devoted their lives; so too for you who are
training your mind to take part in the struggles of political life,
it is far more honourable to be thus at work than to be idle. He
whose object is to be of service to his countrymen and to all
mortals, exercises himself and does good at the same time when he
is engrossed in business and is working to the best of his ability
both in the interests of the public and of private men. But,”
continues he, “because innocence is hardly safe among such furious
ambitions and so many men who turn one aside from the right path,
and it is always sure to meet with more hindrance than help, we
ought to withdraw ourselves from the forum and from public life,
and a great mind even in a private station can find room wherein
to expand freely. Confinement in dens restrains the springs of lions
and wild creatures, but this does not apply to human beings, who
often effect the most important works in retirement. Let a man,
however, withdraw himself only in such a fashion that wherever he
spends his leisure his wish may still be to benefit individual men
and mankind alike, both with his intellect, his voice, and his
advice. The man that does good service to the state is not only he
who brings forward candidates for public office, defends accused
persons, and gives his vote on questions of peace and war, but he
who encourages young men in well-doing, who supplies the present
dearth of good teachers by instilling into their minds the principles
of virtue, who seizes and holds back those who {260} are rushing
wildly in pursuit of riches and luxury, and, if he does nothing
else, at least checks their course—such a man does service to the
public though in a private station. Which does the most good, he
who decides between foreigners and citizens (as praetor peregrinus),
or, as praetor urbanus, pronounces sentence to the suitors in his
court at his assistant’s dictation, or he who shows them what is
meant by justice, filial feeling, endurance, courage, contempt of
death and knowledge of the gods, and how much a man is helped by a
good conscience? If then you transfer to philosophy the time which
you take away from the public service, you will not be a deserter
or have refused to perform your proper task. A soldier is not merely
one who stands in the ranks and defends the right or the left wing
of the army, but he also who guards the gates—a service which,
though less dangerous, is no sinecure—who keeps watch, and takes
charge of the arsenal: though all these are bloodless duties, yet
they count as military service. As soon as you have devoted yourself
to philosophy, you will have overcome all disgust at life: you will
not wish for darkness because you are weary of the light, nor will
you be a trouble to yourself and useless to others: you will acquire
many friends, and all the best men will be attracted towards you:
for virtue, in however obscure a position, cannot be hidden, but
gives signs of its presence: any one who is worthy will trace it
out by its footsteps: but if we give up all society, turn our backs
upon the whole human race, and live communing with ourselves alone,
this solitude without any interesting occupation will lead to a
want of something to do: we shall begin to build up and to pull
down, to dam out the sea, to cause waters to flow through natural
obstacles, and generally to make a bad disposal of the time which
Nature has given us to spend: some of us use it grudgingly, others
wastefully; some of us spend it so that we can show a profit and
loss account, {261} others so that they have no assets remaining:
than which nothing can be more shameful. Often a man who is very
old in years has nothing beyond his age by which he can prove that
he has lived a long time.”
IV. To me, my dearest Serenus, Athenodorus seems to have yielded
too completely to the times, to have fled too soon: I will not deny
that sometimes one must retire, but one ought to retire slowly, at
a foot’s pace, without losing one’s ensigns or one’s honour as a
soldier: those who make terms with arms in their hands are more
respected by their enemies and more safe in their hands. This is
what I think ought to be done by virtue and by one who practises
virtue: if Fortune get the upper hand and deprive him of the power
of action, let him not straightway turn his back to the enemy, throw
away his arms, and run away seeking for a hiding-place, as if there
were any place whither Fortune could not pursue him, but let him
be more sparing in his acceptance of public office, and after due
deliberation discover some means by which he can be of use to the
state. He is not able to serve in the army: then let him become a
candidate for civic honours: must he live in a private station?
then let him be an advocate: is he condemned to keep silence? then
let him help his countrymen with silent counsel. Is it dangerous
for him even to enter the forum? then let him prove himself a good
comrade, a faithful friend, a sober guest in people’s houses, at
public shows, and at wine-parties. Suppose that he has lost the
status of a citizen; then let him exercise that of a man: our reason
for magnanimously refusing to confine ourselves within the walls
of one city, for having gone forth to enjoy intercourse with all
lands and for professing ourselves to be citizens of the world is
that we may thus obtain a wider theatre on which to display our
virtue. Is the bench of judges closed to you, are you forbidden to
address the people from the hustings, or to be a candidate at
elections? {262} then turn your eyes away from Rome, and see what
a wide extent of territory, what a number of nations present
themselves before you. Thus, it is never possible for so many outlets
to be closed against your ambition that more will not remain open
to it: but see whether the whole prohibition does not arise from
your own fault. You do not choose to direct the affairs of the state
except as consul or prytanis[2] or meddix[3] or sufes:[4] what
should we say if you refused to serve in the army save as general
or military tribune? Even though others may form the first line,
and your lot may have placed you among the veterans of the third,
do your duty there with your voice, encouragement, example, and
spirit: even though a man’s hands be cut off, he may find means to
help his side in a battle, if he stands his ground and cheers on
his comrades. Do something of that sort yourself: if Fortune removes
you from the front rank, stand your ground nevertheless and cheer
on your comrades, and if somebody stops your mouth, stand nevertheless
and help your side in silence. The services of a good citizen are
never thrown away: he does good by being heard and seen, by his
expression, his gestures, his silent determination, and his very
walk. As some remedies benefit us by their smell as well as by their
their taste and touch, so virtue even when concealed and at a
distance sheds usefulness around. Whether she moves at her ease and
enjoys her just rights, or can only appear abroad on sufferance and