{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_7491/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_7491","id":"gutenberg_7491","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/7491","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Classics of Literature","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Classical Antiquity","Friendship","Neoplatonism"],"text":"Produced by Ted Garvin, Charles Franks and the Distributed\nProofreaders Team\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO]\n\nDe Amicitia, Scipio's Dream\n\nBy Cicero\n\n\nTranslated, with an Introduction and Notes\n\nBy Andrew P. Peabody\n\n\n\nSYNOPSIS.\n\n*       *       *       *       *\n\nDE AMICITIA\n\n1. Introduction.\n\n2. Reputation of Laelius for wisdom. The curiosity to know how he bore\nthe death of Scipio.\n\n3. His grounds of consolation in his bereavement\n\n4. He expresses his faith in immortality. Desires perpetual memory in\nthis world of the friendship between himself and Scipio.\n\n5. True friendship can exist only among good men.\n\n6. Friendship defined.\n\n7. Benefits derived from friendship.\n\n8. Friendship founded not on need, but on nature.\n\n9. The relation of utility to friendship.\n\n10. Causes for the separation of friends.\n\n11. How far love for friends may go.\n\n12. Wrong never to be done at a friend's request.\n\n13. Theories that degrade friendship\n\n14. How friendships are formed.\n\n15. Friendlessness wretched.\n\n16. The limits of friendship.\n\n17. In what sense and to what degree friends are united. How friends are\nto be chosen and tested.\n\n18. The qualities to be sought in a friend.\n\n19. Old friends not to be forsaken for new.\n\n20. The duties of friendship between persons differing in ability, rank,\nor position.\n\n21. How friendships should be dissolved, and how to guard against the\nnecessity of dissolving them.\n\n22. Unreasonable expectations of friends. Mutual respect necessary in\ntrue friendship.\n\n23. Friendship necessary for all men.\n\n24. Truth-telling, though it often gives offence, an essential duty from\nfriend to friend.\n\n25. The power of truth. The arts of flattery.\n\n26. Flattery availing only with the feeble-minded.\n\n27. Virtue the soul of friendship. Laelius describes the intimacy of the\nfriendship between himself and Scipio.\n\n\n*       *       *       *       *\n\n\nSCIPIO'S DREAM.\n\n1. Scipio's visit to Masinissa. Circumstances under which the dream\noccurred.\n\n2. Appearance of the elder Africanus, and of his own father, to Scipio.\nProphecy of Scipio's successes and honors, with an intimation of his\ndeath by the hands of his kindred.\n\n3. Conditions on which heaven may be won.\n\n4. The nine spheres that constitute the universe.\n\n5. The music of the spheres.\n\n6. The five zones of the earth.\n\n7. Brevity and worthlessness of earthly fame.\n\n8. All souls eternal.\n\n9. The soul to be trained for immortality. The fate of those who merge\ntheir souls in sense.\n\n\n\n\nINTRODUCTION\n\nDE AMICITIA.\n\nThe _De Amicitia_, inscribed, like the _De Senectute_, to Atticus, was\nprobably written early in the year 44 B.C., during Cicero's retirement,\nafter the death of Julius Caesar and before the conflict with Antony.\nThe subject had been a favorite one with Greek philosophers, from whom\nCicero always borrowed largely, or rather, whose materials he made\nfairly his own by the skill, richness, and beauty of his elaboration,\nSome passages of this treatise were evidently suggested by Plato; and\nAulus Gellius says that Cicero made no little use of a now lost essay of\nTheophrastus on Friendship.\n\nIn this work I am especially impressed by Cicero's dramatic power. But\nfor the mediocrity of his poetic genius, he might have won pre-eminent\nhonor from the Muse of Tragedy. He here so thoroughly enters into the\nfeelings of Laelius with reference to Scipio's death, that as we read we\nforget that it is not Laelius himself who is speaking. We find ourselves\nin close sympathy with him, as if he were telling us the story of his\nbereavement, giving utterance to his manly fortitude and resignation and\nportraying his friend's virtues from the unfading image phototyped on\nhis own loving memory. In other matters too Cicero goes back to the time\nof Laelius and assumes his point of view assigning to him just the\ndegree of foresight which he probably possessed and making not the\nslightest reference to the very different aspect in which he himself had\nlearned to regard and was wont to represent the personages and events of\nthat earlier period. Thus while Cicero traced the downfall of the\nrepublic to changes in the body politic that had taken place or were\nimminent and inevitable when Scipio died he makes Laelius perceive only\na slight though threatening deflection from what had been in the earlier\ntime [Footnote 1]. So too though Cicero was annoyed more than by almost\nany other characteristic of his age by the prevalence of the Epicurean\nphilosophy and ascribed to it in a very large degree the demoralization\nof men in public life with Laelius the doctrines of this school are\nrepresented as they must have been in fact as new and unfamiliar. In\ntime Laelius is here made to say not a word which he being the man that\nhe was and at the date assumed for this dialogue might not have said\nhimself; and it may be doubted whether a report of one of his actual\nconversations would have seemed more truly genuine.\n\nThis is a rare gift often sought indeed yet sought in vain not only by\ndramatists who have very [Footnote 1 _Deflexit jam aliquantul im_]\nseldom attained it but by authors of a very great diversity of type and\nculture. One who undertakes to personate a character belonging to an age\nnot his own hardly ever fails of manifest anachronisms. The author finds\nit utterly impossible to fit the antique mask so closely as not now and\nthen to show through its chinks his own more modern features, while this\nform of internal evidence never fails to betray an intended forgery\nhowever skilfully wrought. On the other hand there is no surer proof of\nthe genuineness of a work purporting to be of an earlier but alleged to\nbe of a later origin than the absence of all tokens of a time subsequent\nto the earliest date claimed for it. [Footnote: Thus among the many\nproofs of the genuineness of our canonical Gospels perhaps none is more\nconclusive than the fact that though evidently written by unskilled men\nthey contain not a trace or token of certain opinions known to have been\nrife even before the close of the first Christian century; while the (so\ncalled) apocryphal Gospels bear, throughout, such vestiges of their\nlater origin as would neutralize the strongest testimony imaginable in\nbehalf of their primitive antiquity.]\n\nIn connection with this work it should be borne in mind that the special\nduties of friendship constituted an essential department of ethics in\nthe ancient world and that the relation of friend to friend was regarded\nas on the same plane with that of brother to brother. No treatise on\nmorals would have been thought complete had this subject been omitted.\nNot a few modern writers have attempted the formal treatment of\nfriendship but while the relation of kindred minds and souls has lost\nnone of its sacredness and value, the establishment of a code of rules\nfor it ignores on the one hand the spontaneity of this relation, and on\nthe other hand, its entire amenableness to the laws and principles that\nshould restrict and govern all human intercourse and conduct.\n\nShaftesbury, in his 'Characteristics,' in his exquisite vein of irony\nsneers at Christianity for taking no cognizance of friendship either in\nits precepts or in its promises. Jeremy Taylor, however, speaks of this\nfeature of Christianity as among the manifest tokens of its divine\norigin, and Soame Jenyns takes the same ground in a treatise expressly\ndesigned to meet the objections and cavils of Shaftesbury and other\ndeistical writers of his time. These authors are all in the right and\nall in the wrong, as to the matter of fact. There is no reason why\nChristianity should prescribe friendship which is a privilege, not a\nduty, or should essay to regulate it, for its only ethical rule of\nstrict obligation is the negative rule which would lay out for it a\ntrack that shall never interfere with any positive duty selfward,\nmanward or Godward. But in the life of the Founder of Christianity, who\nteaches, most of all, by example, friendship has its apogee,--its\nsupreme pre-eminence and honor. He treats his apostles and speaks of and\nto them, not as mere disciples but as intimate and dearly beloved\nfriends, among these there are three with whom he stands in peculiarly\nnear relations, and one of the three was singled out by him in dying for\nthe most sacred charge that he left on the earth, while at the same time\nthat disciple shows in his Gospel that he had obtained an inside view so\nto speak, of his Master's spiritual life and of the profounder sense of\nhis teachings which is distinguished by contrast rather than by\ncomparison from the more superficial narratives of the other\nevangelists.\n\nBut Christianity has done even more than this for friendship. It has\nsuperseded its name by fulfilling its offices to a degree of perfectness\nwhich had never entered into the ante-Christian mind. Man shrinks from\nsolitude. He feels inadequate to bear the burdens, meet the trials, and\nwage the conflicts of this mortal life, alone. Orestes always needed and\ncraved a Pylades, but often failed to find one. This inevitable\nyearning, when it met no human response found still less to satisfy it\nin the objects of worship. Its gods, though in great part deified men,\ncould not be relied on for sympathy, support or help. The stronger\nspirits did not believe in them, the feebler looked upon them only with\nawe and dread. But Christianity, in its anthropomorphism, which is its\nstrongest hold on faith and trust, insures for the individual man in a\nDivine Humanity precisely what friends might essay to do yet could do\nbut imperfectly for him. It proffers the tender sympathy and helpfulness\nof Him who bears the griefs and carries the sorrows of each and all;\nwhile the near view that it presents of the life beyond death inspires\nthe sense of unbroken union with friends in heaven, and of the\nfellow-feeling of \"a cloud of witnesses\" beside. Thus while friendship in\nordinary life is never to be spurned when it may be had without\nsacrifice of principle, it is less a necessity than when man's relations\nwith the unseen world gave no promise of strength, aid, or comfort.\n\nExperience has deepened my conviction that what is called a free\ntranslation is the only fit rendering of Latin into English; that is,\nthe only way of giving to the English reader the actual sense of the\nLatin writer. This last has been my endeavor. The comparison is, indeed,\nexaggerated; but it often seems to me, in unrolling a compact Latin\nsentence, as if I were writing out in words the meaning of an algebraic\nformula. A single word often requires three or four as its English\nequivalent. Yet the language is not made obscure by compression. On the\ncontrary, there is no other language in which it is so hard to bury\nthought or to conceal its absence by superfluous verbiage.\n\nI have used Beier's edition of the _De Amicitia_, adhering to it in the\nvery few cases in which other good editions have a different reading.\nThere are no instances in which the various readings involve any\nconsiderable diversity of meaning.\n\nLAELIUS.\n\nCaius Laelius Sapiens, the son of Caius Laelius, who was the life-long\nfriend of Scipio Africanus the Elder, was born B.C. 186, a little\nearlier in the same year with his friend Africanus the Younger. He was\nnot undistinguished as a military commander, as was proved by his\nsuccessful campaign against Viriathus, the Lusitanian chieftain, who had\nlong held the Roman armies at bay, and had repeatedly gained signal\nadvantages over them. He was known in the State, at first as leaning,\nthough moderately and guardedly, to the popular side, but after the\ndisturbances created by the Gracchi, as a strong conservative. He was a\nlearned and accomplished man, was an elegant writer,--though while the\nLatin tongue retained no little of its archaic rudeness,--and was\npossessed of some reputation as an orator. Though bearing his part in\npublic affairs, holding at intervals the offices of Tribune, Praetor,\nand Consul, and in his latter years attending with exemplary fidelity to\nsuch duties as belonged to him as a member of the college of Augurs, he\nyet loved retirement, and cultivated, so far as he was able, studious\nand contemplative habits. He was noted for his wise economy of time. To\nan idle man who said to him, \"I have sixty years\" [_Sexaginta annos\nhabeo._] (that is, I am sixty years old), he replied, \"Do you mean the\nsixty years which you have not?\" His private life was worthy of all\npraise for the virtues that enriched and adorned it; and its memory was\nso fresh after the lapse of more than two centuries, that Seneca, who\nwell knew the better way which he had not always strength to tread,\nadvises his young friend Lucilius to \"live with Laelius;\" [_Vire cum\nLaelio._] that is, to take his life as a model.\n\nThe friendship of Laelius and the younger Scipio Africanus well deserves\nthe commemoration which it has in this dialogue of Cicero. It began in\ntheir boyhood, and continued without interruption till Scipio's death.\nLaelius served in Africa, mainly that he might not be separated from his\nfriend. To each the other's home was as his own. They were of one mind as to\npublic men and measures, and in all probability the more pliant nature\nof Laelius yielded in great measure to the stern and uncompromising\nadherence of Scipio to the cause of the aristocracy. While they were\nunited in grave pursuits and weighty interests, we have the most\ncharming pictures of their rural and seaside life together, even of\ntheir gathering shells on the shore, and of fireside frolics in which\nthey forgot the cares of the republic, ceased to be stately old Romans,\nand played like children in vacation-time.\n\nFANNIUS.\n\nCaius Fannius Strabo in early life served with high reputation in\nAfrica, under the younger Africanus, and afterward in Spain, in the war\nwith Viriathus. Like his father-in-law, he was versed in the philosophy\nof the Stoic school, under the tuition of Panaetius. He was an orator,\nas were almost all the Romans who aimed at distinction; but we have no\nreason to suppose that he in this respect rose above mediocrity. He\nwrote a history, of which Cicero speaks well, and which Sallust commends\nfor its accuracy; but it is entirely lost, and we have no direct\ninformation even as to the ground which it covered. It seems probable,\nhowever, that it was a history either of the third of the Punic wars, or\nof all of them; for Plutarch quotes from him--probably from his History\n--the statement that he, Fannius, and Tiberius Gracchus were the first to\nmount the walls of Carthage when the city was taken.\n\nSCAEVOLA.\n\nQuintus Mucius Scaevola filled successively most of the important\noffices of the State, and was for many years, and until death, a member\nof the college of Augurs. He was eminent for his legal learning, and to\na late and infirm old age was still consulted in questions of law, never\nrefusing to receive clients at any moment after daylight. But while he\nwas regarded as foremost among the jurists of his time, he professed\nhimself less thoroughly versed in the laws relating to mortgages than\ntwo of his coevals, to whom he was wont to send those who brought cases\nof this class for his opinion or advice. He was remarkable for early\nrising, constant industry, and undeviating punctuality,--at the meetings\nof the Senate being always the first on the ground.\n\nNo man held a higher reputation than Scaevola for rigid and scrupulous\nintegrity. It is related of him that when as a witness in court he had\ngiven testimony full, clear, strong, and of the most damnatory character\nagainst the person on trial, he protested against the conviction of the\ndefendant on his testimony, if not corroborated, on the principle, held\nsacred in the Jewish law, that it would be a dangerous precedent to\nsuffer the issue of any case to depend on the intelligence and veracity\nof a single witness. When, after Marius had been driven from the city,\nSulla asked the Senate to declare him by their vote a public enemy,\nScaevola stood in a minority of one; and when Sulla urged him to give\nhis vote in the affirmative, his reply was: \"Although you show me the\nmilitary guard with which you have surrounded the Senate-house, although\nyou threaten me with death, you will never induce me, for the little\nblood still in an old man's veins, to pronounce Marius--who has been the\npreserver of the city and of Italy--an enemy.\"\n\nHis daughter married Lucius Licinius Crassus, who had such reverence tor\nhis father-in-law, that, when a candidate for the consulship, he could\nnot persuade himself in the presence of Scaevola to cringe to the\npeople, or to adopt any of the usual self-humiliating methods of\ncanvassing for the popular vote.\n\n\n\n\nSCIPIO'S DREAM.\n\nPALIMPSESTS [Footnote: _Rubbed again_,--the parchment, or papyrus, having\nbeen first polished for use, and then rubbed as clean as possible, to be\nused a second time.]--the name and the thing--are at least as old as\nCicero. In one of his letters he banters his friend Trebatius for\nwriting to him on a palimpsest,[Footnote: _In palimpsesto_.] and marvels\nwhat there could have been on the parchment which he wanted to erase.\nThis was a device probably resorted to in that age only in the way in\nwhich rigid economists of our day sometimes utilize envelopes and\nhandbills. But in the dark ages, when classical literature was under a\ncloud and a ban, and when the scanty demand for writing materials made\nthe supply both scanty and precarious, such manuscripts of profane\nauthors as fell into the hands of ecclesiastical copyists were not\nunusually employed for transcribing the works of the Christian Fathers\nor the lives of saints. In such cases the erasion was so clumsily\nperformed as often to leave distinct traces of the previous letters. The\npossibility of recovering lost writings from these palimpsests was first\nsuggested by Montfaucon in the seventeenth century; but the earliest\nsuccessful experiment of the kind was made by Bruns, a German scholar,\nin the latter part of the eighteenth, century. The most distinguished\nlaborer in this field has been Angelo Mai, who commenced his work in\n1814 on manuscripts in the Ambrosian Library at Milan, of which he was\nthen custodian. Transferred to the Vatican Library at Rome, he\ndiscovered there, in 1821, a considerable portion of Cicero's _De\nRepublica_, which had been obliterated, and replaced by Saint\nAugustine's Commentary on the Psalms. This latter being removed by\nappropriate chemical applications, large portions of the original\nwriting remained legible, and were promptly given to the public.\n\nThis treatise Cicero evidently considered, and not without reason, as\nhis master-work. It was written in the prime of his mental vigor, in the\nfifty-fourth year of his age, after ample experience in the affairs of\nState, and while he still hoped, more than he feared for the future of\nRome. His object was to discuss in detail the principles and forms of\ncivil government, to define the grounds of preference for a republic\nlike that of Rome in its best days, and to describe the duties and\nresponsibilities of a good citizen, whether in public office or in\nprivate life. He regarded this treatise, in its ethics, as his own\ndirectory in the government of his province of Cilicia, and as binding\nhim, by the law of self-consistency, to unswerving uprightness and\nfaithfulness, He refers to these six books on the Republic as so many\nhostages [Footnote: _Praedibus_.] for his uncorrupt integrity and\nuntarnished honor, and makes them his apology to Atticus for declining\nto urge an extortionate demand on the city of Salamis.\n\nThe work is in the form of Dialogues, in which, with several\ninterlocutors beside, the younger Africanus and Laelius are the chief\nspeakers; and it is characterized by the same traits of dramatic genius\nto which I have referred in connection with the _De Amicitia_.\n\nThe _De Republica_ was probably under interdict during the reigns of the\nAugustan dynasty; men did not dare to copy it, or to have it known that\nthey possessed it; and when it might have safely reappeared, the\nrepublic had faded even from regretful memory, and there was no desire\nto perpetuate a work devoted to its service and honor. Thus the world\nhad lost the very one of all Cicero's writings for which he most craved\nimmortality. The portions of it which Mai has brought to light fully\nconfirm Cicero's own estimate of its value, and feed the earnest--it is\nto be feared the vain--desire for the recovery of the entire work.\n\nScipio's Dream, which, is nearly all that remains of the Sixth Book of\nthe _De Republica_, had survived during the interval for which the rest\nof the treatise was lost to the world. Macrobius, a grammarian of the\nfifth century, made it the text of a commentary of little present\ninterest or value, but much prized and read in the Middle Ages. The\nDream, independently of the commentary, has in more recent times passed\nthrough unnumbered editions, sometimes by itself, sometimes with\nCicero's ethical writings, sometimes with the other fragments of the _De\nRepublica_.\n\nIn the closing Dialogue of the _De Republica_ the younger Africanus\nsays: \"Although to the wise the consciousness of noble deeds is a most\nample reward of virtue, yet this divine virtue craves, not indeed\nstatues that need lead to hold them to their pedestals, nor yet triumphs\ngraced by withering laurels, but rewards of firmer structure and more\nenduring green.\" \"What are these?\" says Laelius. Scipio replies by\ntelling his dream. The time of the vision was near the beginning of the\nThird Punic War, when Scipio, no longer in his early youth, was just\nentering upon the career in which he gained pre-eminent fame,\nthenceforward to know neither shadow nor decline.\n\n*       *       *       *       *\n\nI have used for Scipio's Dream, Creuzer and Moser's edition of the _De\nRepublica_.\n\n\n\n\nCICERO DE AMICITIA\n\n*       *       *       *       *\n\n1 Quintus Mucius, the Augur, used to repeat from memory, and in the most\npleasant way, many of the sayings of his father-in-law Caius Laelius,\nnever hesitating to apply to him in all that he said his surname of The\nWise. When I first put on the robe of manhood [Footnote: In the earliest\ntime a boy put on the _toga virilis_ when he had completed his sixteenth\nyear, in Cicero's time pupilage ceased a year earlier and by Justinin's\ncode the period at which it legally ceased was the commencement of the\nfifteenth year. The Scaevola to whom Cicero was thus taken was Quintus\nMucius (Scaevola) the Augur, already named.] my father took me to\nScaevola and so commended me to his kind offices, that thenceforward, so\nfar as was possible and fitting I kept my place at the old man's side.\n[Footnote: It was customary for youth in training for honorable\npositions in the State to attach themselves especially to men of\nestablished character and reputation, to attend them to public places,\nand to remain near them whenever anything was to be learned from their\nconversation, their legal opinions, their public harangues, or their\npleas before the courts. Distinguished citizens deemed themselves\nhonored by a retinue of such attendants. Cicero, in the _De Officiis_,\nsays that a young man may best  commend himself to the early esteem and\nconfidence of the community by such an intimacy.] I thus laid up in my\nmemory many of his elaborate discussions of important subjects, as well\nas many of his utterances that had both brevity and point, and my\nendeavor was to grow more learned by his wisdom. After his death I stood\nin a similar relation to the high-priest Scaevola, [Footnote: As Cicero\nsays, the most eloquent of jurists, and the most learned jurist among\nthe eloquent. He was at the same time pre-eminent for moral purity and\nintegrity. It was he, who, as Cicero (_De Officiis_, iii. 15) relates,\ninsisted on paying for an estate that he bought a much larger sum than\nwas asked for it, because its price had been fixed far below its actual\nvalue.] whom I venture to call the foremost man of our city both in\nability and in uprightness. But of him I will speak elsewhere. I return\nto the Augur. While I recall many similar occasions, I remember in\nparticular that at a certain time when I and a few of his more intimate\nassociates were sitting with him in the semicircular apartment\n[Footnote: Latin, _hemicyclio,_ perhaps, a semicircular seat.] in his\nhouse where he was wont to receive his friends, the conversation turned\non a subject about which almost every one was then talking, and which\nyou, Atticus, certainly recollect, as you were much in the society of\nPublius Sulpicius; namely, the intense hatred with which Sulpicius, when\nTribune of the people, opposed Quintus Pompeius, then Consul, [Footnote:\nThe quarrel arose from the zealous espousal of the Marian faction by\nSulpicius, who resorted to arms, in order to effect the incorporation of\nthe new citizens from without the city among the previously existing\ntribes. Hence a series of tumults and conflicts, in one of which a son\nof Pompeius lost his life.] with whom he had lived in the closest and\nmost loving union,--a subject of general surprise and regret. Having\nincidentally mentioned this affair, Scaevola proceeded to give us the\nsubstance of a conversation on friendship, which Laelius had with him\nand his other son-in-law, Caius Fannius, the son of Marcus, a few days\nafter the death of Africanus. I committed to memory the sentiments\nexpressed in that discussion, and I bring them out in the book which I\nnow send you. I have put them into the form of a dialogue, to avoid the\ntoo frequent repetition of \"said I\" and \"says he,\" and that the\ndiscussion may seem as if it were held in the hearing of those who read\nit. While you, indeed, have often urged me to write something about\nfriendship, the subject seems to me one of universal interest, and at\nthe same time specially appropriate to our intimacy. I have therefore\nbeen very ready to seek the profit of many by complying with your\nrequest. But as in the _Cato Major_, the work on Old Age inscribed to\nyou, I introduced the old man Cato as leading the discussion, because\nthere seemed to be no other person better fitted to talk about old age\nthan one who had been an aged man so long, and in his age had been so\nexceptionally vigorous, so, as we had heard from our fathers of the\npeculiarly memorable intimacy of Caius Laelius and Publius Scipio, it\nappeared appropriate to put into the mouth of Laelius what Scaevola\nremembered as having been said by him when friendship was the subject in\non the authority of men of an earlier generation, and illustrious in\ntheir time, seems somehow to be of specially commanding influence on the\nreader's mind. Thus, as I read my own book on Old Age, I am sometimes so\naffected that I feel as if not I, but Cato, were talking. But as I then\nwrote as an old man to an old man about old age, so in this book I write\nas the most loving of friends to a friend about friendship. [Footnote:\nIn the Latin we have here two remarkable series of assonances,\nrhythmical to the ear, and though translatable in sense not so in\neuphony. \"Ut tum _senex_ ad _senem_ de _senectute,_ sic hoc libro ad\n_amicum amicissimus_, de _amicitia_ scripsi.\"] Then Cato was the chief\nspeaker, than whom there was in his time scarcely any one older, and no\none his superior in intellect, now Laelius shall hold the first place,\nboth as a wise man (for so he was regarded), and as excelling in all\nthat can do honor to friendship. I want you for the while to turn your\nmind away from me, and to imagine that it is Laelius who is speaking.\nCaius Fannius and Quintus Mucius come to their father-in-law after the\ndeath of Africanus. They commence the conversation, Laelius answers\nthem. In reading all that he says about friendship, you will recognize\nthe picture of your own friendship for me.\n\n2 FANNIUS It is as you say, [Footnote: The reference is to what Laelius\nis supposed to have said already. The dialogue, as given here, is made\nto commence in the midst of a conversation.] Laelius, for there never\nwas a better man, or one more justly renowned, than Africanus, But you\nought to bear it in mind that the eyes of all are turned upon you at\nthis time, for they both call you and think you wise. This distinction\nhas been latterly given to Cato, and you know that in the days of our\nfathers Lucius Atilius [Footnote: The first Roman known to have borne\nthe surname of Sapiens He was one of the earliest of the juriconsults\nwho took pupils.] was in like manner surnamed The Wise, but both of them\nwere so called for other reasons than those which have given you this\nname,--Atilius, for his reputation as an adept in municipal law, Cato,\nfor the versatility of his endowments for there were reported to his\nhonor many measures wisely planned and vigorously carried through in the\nSenate, and many cases skilfully defended in the courts, so that in his\nold age The Wise was generally applied to him as a surname. But you are\nregarded as wise on somewhat different grounds, not only for your\ndisposition and your moral worth, but also for your knowledge and\nlearning, and not in the estimation of the common people, but in that of\nmen of advanced culture, you are deemed wise in a sense in which there\nis reason to suppose that in Greece--where those who look into these\nthings most discriminatingly do not reckon the seven who bear the name\nas on the list of wise men--no one was so regarded except the man in\nAthens whom the oracle of Apollo designated as the wisest of\nmen.[Footnote: Socrates.] In fine, you are thought to be wise in this\nsense, that you regard all that appertains to your happiness as within\nyour own soul, and consider the calamities to which man is liable as of\nno consequence in comparison with virtue. I am therefore asked, and so,\nI believe, is Scaevola, who is now with us, how you bear the death of\nAfricanus; and the question is put to us the more eagerly, because on\nthe fifth day of the month next following, [Footnote: Latin, _proxumis\nnonis_. The _nones_, the ninth day before the _ides_, fell on the fifth\nof the month, except in March. May, July, and October, when the _ides_\nwere two days later. We have elsewhere intimation that the Augurs held\na meeting for business on the _nones_ of each month.] when we met, as\nusual, in the garden of Decimus Brutus the Augur, to discuss our\nofficial business, you were absent, though it was your habit always on\nthat day to give your most careful attendance to the duties of your\noffice.\n\nSCAEVOLA. As Fannius says, Caius Laelius, many have asked me this\nquestion. But I answered in accordance with what I have seen, that you\nwere bearing with due moderation your sorrow for the death of this your\nmost intimate friend, though you, with your kindly nature, could not\nfail to be moved by it; but that your absence from the monthly meeting\nof the Augurs was due to illness, not to grief.\n\nLAELIUS. You were in the right, Scaevola, and spoke the truth; for it\nwas not fitting, had I been in good health, for me to be detained by my\nown sad feeling from this duty, which I have never failed to discharge;\nnor do I think that a man of firm mind can be so affected by any\ncalamity as to neglect his duty. It is, indeed, friendly in you,\nFannius, to tell me that better things are said of me than I feel worthy\nof or desire to have said; but it seems to me that you underrate Cato.\nFor either there never was a wise man (and so I am inclined to think),\nor if there has been such a man, Cato deserves the name. To omit other\nthings, how nobly did he bear his son's death! I remembered Paulus,\n[Footnote: Paulus Aemilius, who lost two sons, one a few days before,\nthe other shortly after, the triumph decreed to him for the conquest of\nthe Macedonian King Perseus.] I had seen Gallus,[Footnote: Gaius\nSulpicius Gallus, mentioned as an astronomer by Cicero, _De Officiis_,\ni. 6, and _De Senectute_, 14.] in their bereavements. But they lost\nboys; Cato, a man in his prime and respected by all.[Footnote: The\nyounger Cato had won fame as a soldier and distinguished eminence as a\njurist. At the time of his death he was praetor elect.] Beware how you\nplace in higher esteem than Cato even the man whom Apollo, as you say,\npronounced superlatively wise; for it is the deeds of Cato, the sayings\nof Socrates, that are held in honor. Thus far in reply to Fannius. As\nregards myself, I will now answer both of you.\n\n3. Were I to deny that I feel the loss of Scipio, while I leave it to\nthose who profess themselves wise in such matters to say whether I ought\nto feel it, I certainly should be uttering a falsehood. I do indeed feel\nmy bereavement of such a friend as I do not expect ever to have again,\nand as I am sure I never had beside. But I need no comfort from without,\nI console myself, and, chief of all, I find comfort in my freedom from\nthe apprehension that oppresses most men when their friends die, for I\ndo not think that any evil has befallen Scipio. If evil has befallen, it\nis to me. But to be severely afflicted by one's own misfortunes is the\ntoken of self-love, not of friendship. As for him, indeed who can deny\nthat the issue has been to his pre-eminent glory? Unless he had\nwished--what never entered into his mind--an endless life on earth what\nwas there within human desire that did not accrue to the man who in his\nvery earliest youth by his incredible ability and prowess surpassed the\nhighest expectations that all had formed of his boyhood, who never\nsought the consulship, yet was made consul twice, the first time before\nthe legal age,[Footnote: He left the army in Africa B.C. 147 for home to\noffer himself as a candidate for the aedileship, for which he had just\nreached the legal age of thirty seven; but such accounts of his ability\nefficiency, and courage had preceded him and followed him from the army,\nthat he was chosen Consul, virtually by popular acclamation.] the second\ntime in due season as to himself, but almost too late for his\ncountry,[Footnote: The war in Spain had been continued for several\nyears, with frequent disaster and disgrace to the Roman army, when\nScipio, B.C. 134, was chosen Consul with a special view to this war,\nwhich he closed by the capture and destruction of Numantia, in connection\nwith which, it must be confessed, his record is rather that of a\nrelentless and sanguinary enemy than of a generous and placable\nantagonist.] who by the overthrow of two cities implacably hostile to\nthe Roman empire put a period, not only to the wars that were but to\nwars that else must have been? What shall I say of the singular\naffability of his manners, of his filial piety to his mother, [Footnote:\nHe was the son of Paulus Aemilius, and the adopted son of Publius\nCornelius Scipio Africanus. His mother, divorced for no assignable\nreason, was left very poor, and her son, on the death of the widow of\nhis adopting father, gave her the entire patrimony that came into his\npossession.] of his generosity to his sisters, [Footnote: After his\nmother's death, law and custom authorized him to resume what he had\ngiven her, but he bestowed it on his sisters, thus affording them the\nmeans of living comfortably and respectably.] of his integrity in his\nrelations with all men? How dear he was to the community was shown by\nthe grief at his funeral. What benefit, then, could he have derived from\na few more years? For, although old age be not burdensome,--as I\nremember that Cato, the year before he died, maintained in a\nconversation with me and Scipio, [Footnote: The _De Senectute_]--it yet\nimpairs the fresh vigor which Scipio had not begun to lose. Thus his\nlife was such that nothing either in fortune or in fame could be added\nto it, while the suddenness of his death must have taken away the pain\nof dying. Of the mode of his death it is hard to speak with certainty,\nyou are aware what suspicions are abroad. [Footnote: He retired to his\nsleeping apartment apparently in perfect health, and was found dead on\nhis couch in the morning,--as was rumored, with marks of violence on his\nneck.  His wife was Sempronia, the sister of the Gracchi whose agrarian\nschemes he had vehemently opposed.  She was suspected of having at least\ngiven admission to the assassin, and even her mother, the Cornelia who\nhas been regarded as unparelleled among Roman women for the virutes\nappertaining to a wife and mother, did not escape the charge of\ncomplicity.  Her son Caius was also among those suspected, but the more\nprobable opinion is that Papirius Carbo was alone answerable for the\ncrime.  Carbo had been Scipio's most bitter enemy and had endeavoured to\ninflame the people against him as their enemy.] But this may be said\nwith truth that of the many days of surpassing fame and happiness which\nPublius Scipio saw in his lifetime, the most glorious was the day before\nhis death when on the adjournment of the Senate he was escorted home by\nthe Conscript Fathers, the Roman people, the men of Latium and the\nallies, [Footnote: Scipio had at that session of the senate proposed a\nmeasure in the utmost degree offensive to Caius Gracchus and his party.\nThe law of Tiberius Gracchus would have disposed, at the hands of the\ncommissioners appointed under it, of large tracts of land belonging to\nthe Italian allies.  Scipio's plan provided that such lands should be\ntaken out of the jurisdiction of the commissioners, and that matters\nrelating to them should be adjudged by a different board to be specially\nappointed--a measure which would have been a virtual abrogation of the\nagrarian law. On this account he had his honorable escort home, and on\nthis account, in all probability, he was mudered.]--so that from so\nhigh a grade of honor he seems to have passed on into the assembly of\nthe gods rather than to have gone down into the underworld.\n\n4 For I am far from agreeing with those who have of late promulgated the\nopinion that the soul perishes with the body and that death blots out\nthe whole being. [Footnote:  The reference here is of course to the\nEpicurians. This school of philosophy had grown very rapidly, and\nnumbered many disciples when this essay was written; but in the time of\nLaelius it had but recently invaded Rome, and Amafanius, who must have\nbeen his contemporary, was the earliest Roman writer who expounded its\ndoctrine] I on the other hand attach superior value to the authority of\nthe ancients whether that of our ancestors who established religious\nrites for the dead which they certainly would not have done if they had\nthought the dead wholly unconcerned in such observances [Footnote: This\nis sound reasoning as these rites were annually renewed and consisted in\ngreat part of the invocation of ancestors--a custom which could not have\noriginated if those ancestors were supposed to be utterly dead. This\npassage may remind the reader of the answer of Jesus Christ to the\nSadducees, who denied that the Pentateuch contained any intimation of\nimmortality. He quotes the passage in which God is represented as\nsaying, \"I am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of\nJacob,\" and adds, \"God is not the God of the dead, but of the living,\"\nimplying that ancestors whom the writer of that record supposed to be\ndead could not have been thus mentioned.] or that of the former Greek\ncolonists in this country who by their schools and teaching made\nSouthern Italy [Footnote: Latin _Magna Graecia_-the name given to the\ncluster of Greek colonies that were scattered thick along the shore of\nSouthern Italy. At Croton in Magna Graecia Pythagoras established his\nschool and the colonies were the chief seat and seminary of his\nphilosophy which taught the immortality of the soul.]--now in its\ndecline, then flourishing--a seat of learning, or that of him whom the\noracle of Apollo pronounced the wisest of men who said not one thing\nto-day, another to-morrow, as many do, but the same thing always,\nmaintaining that the souls of men are divine, and that when they go out\nfrom the body, the return to heaven is open to them, and direct and easy\nin proportion to their integrity and excellence. This was also the\nopinion of Scipio, who seemed prescient of the event so near, when, a\nvery short time before his death, he discoursed for three successive\ndays about the republic in the presence of Philus, Manilius, and several\nothers,--you, Scaevola, having gone with me to the conferences,--and\nnear the close of the discussion he told us what he said that he had\nheard from Africanus in a vision during sleep. [Footnote: The _De\nRepublica_ consists of dialogues on three successive days in Scipio's\ngarden, and Scipio is the chief speaker. The work was supposed to be\nirrecoverably lost, with the exception of this Dream of Scipio and a few\nfragments, but considerable portions of it were discovered in a\npalimpsest in 1822. The Dream of Scipio will be found in the latter part\nof this volume.] If it is true that the soul of every man of surpassing\nexcellence takes flight, as it were, from the custody and bondage of the\nbody, to whom can we imagine the way to the gods more easy than to\nScipio? I therefore fear to mourn for this his departure, lest in such\ngrief there be more of envy than of friendship. But if truth incline to\nthe opinion that soul and body have the same end, and that there is no\nremaining consciousness, then, as there is nothing good in death, there\ncertainly is nothing of evil For if consciousness be lost, the case is\nthe same with Scipio as if he had never been born, though that he was\nborn I have so ample reason to rejoice, and this city will be glad so\nlong as it shall stand Thus in either event, with him, as I have said,\nall has issued well, though with great discomfort for me, who more\nfittingly, as I entered into life before him ought to have left it\nbefore him. But I so enjoy the memory of our friendship, that I seem to\nhave owed the happiness of my life to my having lived with Scipio, with\nwhom I was united in the care of public interests and of private\naffairs, who was my companion at home and served by my side in the army\n[Footnote: Laelus went with Scipio on the campaign which resulted in the\ndestruction of Carthage.] and with whom--and therein lies the special\nvirtue of friendship--I was in perfect harmony of purpose, taste, and\nsentiment. Thus I am now not so much delighted by the reputation for\nwisdom of which Fannius has just spoken, especially as I do not deserve\nit, as by the hope that our friendship will live in eternal remembrance,\nand this I have the more at heart because from all ages scarce three or\nfour pairs of friends are on record, [Footnote: Those referred to\nprobably Theseus and Peirithous, Achilles and  Patroclus, Orestes and\nPylades, Damon and Phintius,--all but the last, perhaps the last also,\nmythical] on which list I cannot but hope that the friendship of Scipio\nand Laelius will be known to posterity.\n\nFANNIUS. It cannot fail, Laelius, to be as you desire. But since you\nhave made mention of friendship, and we are at leisure, you will confer\non me a very great favor, and, I trust, on Scaevola too, if, as you are\nwont to do on other subjects when your opinion is asked, you will\ndiscourse to us on friendship, and tell us what you think about it, in\nwhat estimation you hold it, and what rules you would give for it.\n\nSCAEVOLA. This will indeed be very gratifying to me, and had not Fannius\nanticipated me, I was about to make the same request. You thus will\nbestow a great kindness on both of us.\n\n5. LAELIUS. I certainly would not hesitate, if I had confidence in my\nown powers; for the subject is one of the highest importance, and, as\nFannius says, we are at leisure. It is the custom of philosophers,\nespecially among the Greeks, to have subjects assigned to them, which\nthey discuss even without premeditation. [Footnote: This was the boast\nand pride of the Greek sophists.] This is a great accomplishment, and\nrequires no small amount of exercise. I therefore think that you ought\nto seek the treatment of friendship by those who profess this art. I can\nonly advise you to prefer friendship to all things else within human\nattainment, insomuch as nothing beside is so well fitted to nature,--so\nwell adapted to our needs whether in prosperous or in adverse\ncircumstances. But I consider this as a first principle--that friendship\ncan exist only between good men. In thus saying, I would not be so rigid\nin definition [Footnote: Latin. _Neque ut ad ilium reseco_, literally,\nnor in this matter do I cut to the quick.] as those who establish\nspecially subtle distinctions, [Footnote: The Stoics of the more rigid\ntype, who maintained that the wise man alone is good, but denied that\nthe truly wise man had yet made his appearance on the earth.] with\nliteral truth it may be, but with little benefit to the common mind; for\nthey will not admit that any man who is not wise is a good man. This may\nindeed be true. But they understand by wisdom a state which no mortal\nhas yet attained; while we ought to look at those qualities which are to\nbe found in actual exercise and in common life, not at those which exist\nonly in fancy or in aspiration. Caius Fabricius, Manius Curius, Tiberius\nCoruncanius, wise as they were in the judgment of our fathers, I will\nconsent not to call wise by the standard of these philosophers. Let them\nkeep for themselves the name of wisdom, which is invidious and of\ndoubtful meaning, if they will only admit that these may have been good\nmen. But they will not grant even this; they insist on denying the name\nof good to any but the wise. I therefore adopt the standard of common\nsense. [Footnote: Latin _agamus igitur piagui (ut aiunt) Minerva_, that\nis with a less refined, a grosser wisdom more nearly conformed to the\nsound, if somewhat crass, common-sense of the majority.] Those who\nintegrity, equity, and kindness win approval, who are entirely free from\navarice, lust and the infirmities of a hasty temper, and in whom there\nis perfect consistency of character, in fine men like those whom I have\nnamed while they are regarded as good, ought to be so called, because to\nthe utmost of human capacity they follow Nature who is the best guide in\nliving well. Indeed, it seems to me thoroughly evident that there should\nbe a certain measure of fellowship among all, but more intimate the\nnearer we approach one another. Thus this feeling has more power between\nfellow-citizens than toward foreigners, between kindred than between\nthose of different families. Toward our kindred, Nature herself produces\na certain kind of friendship. But this lacks strength, and indeed\nfriendship in its full sense, has precedence of kinship in this\nparticular, that good-will may be taken away from kinship, not from\nfriendship, for when good will is removed, friendship loses its name,\nwhile that of kinship remains. How great is the force of friendship we\nmay best understand from this,--that out of the boundless society of the\nhuman race which Nature has constituted, the sense of fellowship is so\ncontracted and narrowed that the whole power of loving is bestowed on\nthe union of two or a very few friends.\n\n6 Friendship is nothing else than entire fellow feeling as to all things\nhuman and divine with mutual good-will and affection; (1) and I doubt\nwhether anything better than this, wisdom alone excepted, has been given\nto, man by the immortal gods Some prefer riches to it, some, sound\nhealth, some, power, some, posts of honor, many, even sensual\ngratification. This last properly belongs to beasts, the others are\nprecarious and uncertain, dependent not on our own choice so much as on\nthe caprice of Fortune. Those, indeed, who regard virtue as the supreme\ngood are entirely in the right, but it is virtue itself that produces\nand sustains friendship, not without virtue can friendship by any\npossibility exist. In saying this, however I would interpret virtue in\naccordance with our habits of speech and of life, not defining it, as\nsome philosophers do, by high-sounding words, but numbering on the list\nof good men those who are commonly so regarded,--the Pauli, the Catos,\nthe Galli, the Scipios, the Phili Mankind in general [1 It may be\ndoubted whether this close conformity of opinion and feeling is\nessential, or even favorable to friendship. The amicable comparison and\ncollision of thought and sentiment are certainly consistent with, and\noften conducive to the most friendly intimacy. Friends are not\ninfrequently the complements, rather than the likeness, of each other.\nCicero and Atticus were as close friends as Scipio and Laelius; but they\nwere at many points exceedingly unlike. Atticus had the tact and skill\nin worldly matters, which Cicero lacked. Atticus kept aloof from public\naffairs while Cicero was unhappy whenever he could not imagine himself\nas taking a leading part in them. Atticus was an Epicurean, and Cicero\nnever lost an opportunity of attacking the Epicurean philosophy.] are\ncontent with these. Let us then leave out of the account such good men\nas are nowhere to be found. Among such good men as there really are,\nfriendship has more advantages than I can easily name. In the first,\nplace, as Ennius says;--\n\n\"How can life be worth living, if devoid of the calm trust reposed by\nfriend in friend? What sweeter joy than in the kindred soul? Whose\nconverse differs not from self-communion?\"\n\nHow could you have full enjoyment of prosperity, unless with one whose\npleasure in it was equal to your own? Nor would it be easy to bear\nadversity, unless with the sympathy of one on whom it rested more\nheavily than on your own soul. Then, too, other objects of desire are,\nin general, adapted, each to some specific purpose,--wealth, that you\nmay use it; power, that you may receive the homage of those around you;\nposts of honor, that you may obtain reputation; sensual gratification,\nthat you may live in pleasure; health, that you may be free from pain,\nand may have full exercise of your bodily powers and faculties. But\nfriendship combines the largest number of utilities. Wherever you turn,\nit is at hand. No place shuts it out. It is never unseasonable, never\nannoying. Thus, as the proverb says, \"You cannot put water or fire to\nmore uses than friendship serves.\" I am not now speaking of the common\nand moderate type of friendship, which yet yields both pleasure and\nprofit, but, of true and perfect friendship, like that which existed in\nthe few instances that are held in special remembrance. Such friendship\nat once enhances the lustre of prosperity, and by dividing and sharing\nadversity lessens its burden.\n\n7. Moreover, while friendship comprises the greatest number and variety\nof beneficent offices, it certainly has this special prerogative, that\nit lights up a good hope for the time to come, and thus preserves the\nminds that it sustains from imbecility or prostration in misfortune. For\nhe, indeed, who looks into the face of a friend beholds, as it were, a\ncopy of himself. Thus the absent are present, and the poor are rich, and\nthe weak are strong, and--what seems stranger still [Footnote:\nLiterally, _what is harder to say_.]--the dead are alive, such is the\nhonor, the enduring remembrance, the longing love, with which the dying\nare followed by the living; so that the death of the dying seems happy,\nthe life of the living full of praise. [Footnote: The sense of this\nsentence is somewhat overlaid by the rhetoric; yet it undoubtedly means\nthat an absent friend is esteemed and honored in the person of the\nfriend who not only loves him, but is regarded as representing him; that\na poor friend enjoys the prosperity of his rich friend as if it were his\nown; that a weak friend feels his feebleness energized by the friend who\nin need will fight his battles for him; and that no man is suffered to\nlapse from the kind and reverent remembrances of those who see his\nlikeness in the friend who keeps his memory green.] But if from the\ncondition of human life you were to exclude all kindly union, no house,\nno city, could stand, nor, indeed, could the tillage of the field\nsurvive. If it is not perfectly understood what virtue there is in\nfriendship and concord, it may be learned from dissension and discord.\nFor what house is so stable, what state so firm, that it cannot be\nutterly overturned by hatred and strife? Hence it may be ascertained how\nmuch good there is in friendship. It is said that a certain philosopher\nof Agrigentum [Footnote: Empedocles. Only a few fragments of his great\npoem are extant. His theory seems like a poetical version of Newton's\nlaw of universal gravitation. The analogy between physical attraction\nand the mutual attraction of congenial minds and souls has its record in\nthe French word _aimant_, denoting _loadstone_ or _magnet_.] sang in\nGreek verse that it is friendship that draws together and discord that\nparts all things which subsist in harmony, and which have their various\nmovements in nature and in the whole universe. The worth and power of\nfriendship, too, all mortals understand, and attest by their approval in\nactual instances. Thus, if there comes into conspicuous notice an\noccasion on which a friend incurs or shares the perils of his friend,\nwho can fail to extol the deed with the highest praise? What shouts\nfilled the whole theatre at the performance of the new play of my guest\n[Footnote: Or _host_; for the word _hospes_ may have either meaning. It\ndenotes not the fact of giving or receiving hospitality, but the\npermanent and sacred relation established between host and guest. This\nrelation has lost much of its character in modern civilization, and I\ndoubt whether it has a name in any modern European language.] and friend\nMarcus Pacuvius, when--the king not knowing which of the two was\nOrestes--Pylades said that he was Orestes, while Orestes persisted in\nasserting that he was, as in fact he was, Orestes! [Footnote:  Among the\nmany and conflicting legends about Orestes is that which seems to have\nbeen the theme of the lost tragedy of Pacuvius. Orestes, after avenging\non his mother and her paramour the murder of his father, in order to\nexpiate the guilt of matricide, was directed by the Delphian oracle to\ngo to Tauris, and to steal and transport to Athens an image of Artemis\nthat had fallen from heaven. His friend Pylades accompanied him on this\nexpedition. They were seized by Thoas the king, and Orestes, as the\nprincipal offender, was to be sacrificed to Artemis. His sister,\nIphigeneia, priestess of Artemis, contrived their escape, and the three\narrived safe at Athens with the sacred image.] The whole assembly rose\nin applause at this mere fictitious representation. What may we suppose\nthat they would have done, had the same thing occurred in real life? In\nthat case Nature herself displayed her power, when men recognized that\nas rightly done by another, which they would not have had the courage to\ndo themselves. Thus far, to the utmost of my ability as it seems to me,\nI have given you my sentiments concerning friendship. If there is more\nto be said, as I think that there is, endeavor to obtain it, if you see\nfit, of those who are wont to discuss such subjects.\n\nFANNIUS. But we would rather have it from you. Although I have often\nconsulted those philosophers also, and have listened to them not\nunwillingly, yet the thread of your discourse differs somewhat from that\nof theirs.\n\nSCAEVOLA. You would say so all the more, Fannius, had you been present\nin Scipio's garden at that discussion about the republic, and heard what\nan advocate of justice he showed himself in answer to the elaborate\nspeech of Philus. [Footnote:  Carneades, when on an embassy to Rome, for\nthe entertainment of his Roman hosts, on one day delivered a discourse\nin behalf of justice as the true policy for the State, and on the next\nday delivered an equally subtile and eloquent discourse maintaining the\nopposite thesis. In the third Book of the _De Republica_ Philus is made\nthe \"devil's advocate,\" and has assigned to him the championship of what\nwe are wont to call a Machiavelian policy, and, in general, of the\nmorally wrong as the politically right. He is represented as taking the\npart reluctantly, saying that one consents to soil his hands in order to\nfind gold, and he professes to give the substance of the famous\ndiscourse of Carneades.  Laelius answers him, and, so far as we can\njudge from the fragments of his reply that are extant, with the\npreponderance of reason, which Cicero intended should incline on the\nbetter side. There was perhaps a sublatent irony in making Philus play\nthis part; for he was an eminently upright man.  Valerius Maximus\neulogizes him for his rigid integrity and impartiality, and relates that\nwhen at the expiration of his consulship he was sent to take command of\nthe army against Numantia, he chose for his lieutenants Metellus and\nPompeius, both his intensely bitter enemies, but the men best fitted for\nthe service.]\n\nFANNIUS. It was indeed easy for the man pre-eminently just to defend\njustice.\n\nSCAEVOLA. As to friendship, then, is not its defence easy for him who\nhas won the highest celebrity on the ground of friendship maintained\nwith pre-eminent faithfulness, consistency, and probity?\n\n8. LAELIUS. This is, indeed, the employing of force; for what matters\nthe way in which you compel me? You at any rate do compel me; for it is\nboth hard and unfair not to comply with the wishes of one's sons-in-law,\nespecially in a case that merits favorable consideration.\n\nIn reflecting, then, very frequently on friendship, the foremost\nquestion that is wont to present itself is, whether friendship is craved\non account of conscious infirmity and need, so that in bestowing and\nreceiving the kind offices that belong to it each may have that done for\nhim by the other which he is least able to do for himself, reciprocating\nservices in like manner; or whether, though this relation of mutual\nbenefit is the property, of friendship it has yet another cause; more\nsacred and more noble, and derived more genuinely from the very nature\nof man. Love, which in our language gives name to friendship, [Footnote:\n_Amor,--amicitia._] bears a chief part in unions of mutual benefit; for\na revenue of service is levied even on those who are cherished in\npretended friendship, and are treated with regard from interested\nmotives. But in friendship there is nothing feigned, nothing pretended,\nand whatever there is in it is both genuine and spontaneous. Friendship,\ntherefore, springs from nature rather than from need,--from an\ninclination of the mind with a certain consciousness of love rather than\nfrom calculation of the benefit to be derived from it. Its real quality\nmay be discerned even in some classes of animals, which up to a certain\ntime so love their offspring, and are so loved by them, that the mutual\nfeeling is plainly seen,--a feeling which is much more clearly manifest\nin man, first, in the affection which exists between children and\nparents, and which can be dissolved only by atrocious guilt; and in the\nnext place, in the springing up of a like feeling of love, when we find\nsome one of manners and character congenial with our own, who becomes\ndear to us because we seem to see in him an illustrious example of\nprobity and virtue. For there is nothing more lovable than virtue,--nothing\nwhich more surely wins affectionate regard, insomuch that on the\nscore of virtue and probity we love even those whom we have never seen.\nWho is there that does not recall the memory of Caius Fabricius, of\nManius Curius, of Tiberius Coruncanras, whom he never saw, with some\ngood measure of kindly feeling? On the other hand, who is there that can\nfail to hate Tarquinius Superbus, Spurius Cassius, Spurius Maelius? Our\ndominion in Italy was at stake in wars under two commanders, Pyrrhus and\nHannibal. On account of the good faith of the one, we hold him in no\nunfriendly remembrance; [Footnote: Pyrrhus, after the only victory that\nhe obtained over the Romans, treated his prisoners with signal humanity,\nand restored them without ransom. See _De Officiis_, i. 12] the other\nbecause of his cruelty our people must always hate. [Footnote: It may be\ndoubted whether Hannibal deserved the reproach here implied. The Roman\nhistorians ascribe to him acts of cruelty no worse than their own\ngenerals were chargeable with: while nothing of the kind is related by\neither Polybius, or Plutarch. It is certain that after the battle of\nCannae he checked the needless slaughter of the Roman fugitives, and\nLivy relates several instances in which he paid funeral honors, to\ndistinguished Romans slain in battle. The intense hostility of the\nRomans to Carthage may have led to an unfair estimate of the great\ngeneral's character, and to the invention or exaggeration of reports to\nhis discredit.]\n\n9. But if good faith has such attractive power that we love it in those\nwhom we have never seen, or--what means still more--in an enemy, what\nwonder is it if the minds of men are moved to affection when they behold\nthe virtue and goodness of those with whom they can become intimately\nunited?\n\nLove is, indeed, strengthened by favors received, by witnessing\nassiduity in one's service, and by habitual intercourse; and when these\nare added to the first impulse of the mind toward love, there flames\nforth a marvellously rich glow of affectionate feeling. If there are any\nwho think that this proceeds from conscious weakness and the desire to\nhave some person through whom one can obtain what he lacks, they assign,\nindeed, to friendship a mean and utterly ignoble origin, born, as they\nwould have it, of poverty and neediness. If this were true, then the\nless of resource one was conscious of having in himself, the better\nfitted would he be for friendship. The contrary is the case; for the\nmore confidence a man has in himself, and the more thoroughly he is\nfortified by virtue and wisdom, so that he is in need of no one, and\nregards all that concerns him as in his own keeping, the more noteworthy\nis he for the friendships which he seeks and cherishes. What? Did\nAfricanus need me? Not in the least by Hercules. As little did I need\nhim. But I was drawn to him by admiration of his virtue while he, in\nturn, loved me, perhaps from some favorable estimate of my character,\nand intimacy increased our mutual affection. But though utilities many\nand great resulted from our friendship, the cause of our mutual love did\nnot proceed from the hope of what it might bring. For as we are\nbeneficent and generous, not in order to exact kindnesses in return (for\nwe do not put our kind offices to interest), but are by nature inclined\nto be generous, so, in my opinion, friendship is not to be sought for\nits wages, but because its revenue consists entirely in the love which\nit implies. Those, however, who, after the manner of beasts, refer\neverything to pleasure, [Footnote: The Epicureans] think very\ndifferently. Nor is it wonderful that they do, for men who have degraded\nall their thoughts to so mean and contemptible an end can rise to the\ncontemplation of nothing lofty, nothing magnificent and divine. We may,\ntherefore, leave them out of this discussion. But let us have it well\nunderstood that the feeling of love and the endearments of mutual\naffection spring from nature, in case there is a well-established\nassurance of moral worth in the person thus loved. Those who desire to\nbecome friends approach each other, and enter into relation with each\nother, that each may enjoy the society and the character of him whom he\nhas begun to love, and they are equal in love, and on either side are\nmore inclined to bestow obligations than to claim a return, so that in\nthis matter there is an honorable rivalry between them. Thus will the\ngreatest benefits be derived from friendship, and it will have a more\nsolid and genuine foundation as tracing its origin to nature than if it\nproceeded from human weakness. For if it were utility that cemented\nfriendships, an altered aspect of utility would dissolve them. But\nbecause nature cannot be changed, therefore true friendships are\neternal. This may suffice for the origin of friendship, unless you have,\nperchance, some objection to what I have said.\n\nFANNIUS. Go on, Laelius. I answer by the right of seniority for Scaevola\nwho is younger than I am.\n\nSCAEVOLA. I am of the same mind with you. Let us then, hear farther.\n\n10 LAELIUS. Hear then, my excellent friends the substance of the\nfrequent discussions on friendship between Scipio and me. He indeed,\nsaid [Footnote: The construction of this entire section is in the\nsubjective imperfect depending on the _dicebat_ in the second sentence.\nIt has seemed to me that the direct form of constiution which I have\nadopted is more consonant with the genius of our language.] that nothing\nis more difficult than for friendship to last through life; for friends\nhappen to have conflicting interests, or different political opinions.\nThen, again, as he often said, characters change, sometimes under\nadverse conditions, sometimes with growing years. He cited also the\nanalogy of what takes place in early youth, the most ardent loves of\nboyhood being often laid aside with its robe. But if friendships last on\ninto opening manhood, they are not infrequently broken up by rivalry in\nquest of a wife, or in the pursuit of some advantage which only one can\nobtain. [Footnote: Had Cicero not been personating Laelius, who died\nlong before the quarrel occurred, he would undoubtedly have cited the\ncase of Servilius Caepio and Livius Diusus. They married each other's\nsisters, and were united in the closest intimacy, and seemingly in the\ndearest mutual love; but as rivals in bidding for a ring at an\nauction-sale they had their first quarrel, which grew into intense mutual\nhatred, led almost to a civil war between their respective partisans,\nand bore no small part in starting the series of dissentions which\nissued in the Social War, and the destruction of not far from three\nhundred thousand lives. I refer to this in a note, because it must have\nbeen fresh in Cicero's memory, and had annotation been the habit of his\ntime, he would most assuredly have given it the place which I now give\nit.] Then, if friendships are of longer duration, they yet, as Scipio\nsaid, are liable to be undermined by competition for office; and indeed\nthere is nothing more fatal to friendship than, in very many cases, the\ngreed of gain, and among some of the best of men the contest for place\nand fame, which has often engendered the most intense enmity between\nthose who had been the closest friends. Strong and generally just\naversion, also, springs up when anything morally wrong is required of a\nfriend; as when he is asked to aid in the gratification of impure\ndesire, or to render his assistance in some unrighteous act,--in which\ncase those who refuse, although their conduct is highly honorable, are\nyet charged by the persons whom they will not serve with being false to\nthe claims of friendship, while those who dare to make such a demand of\na friend profess, by the very demand, that they are ready to do anything\nand everything for a friend's sake. By such quarrels, not only are old\nintimacies often dissolved, but undying hatreds generated. So many of\nthese perils hang like so many fates over friendship, that to escape\nthem all seemed to Scipio, as he said, to indicate not wisdom alone, but\nequally a rare felicity of fortune.\n\n11. Let us then, first, if you please, consider how far the love of\nfriends ought to go. If Coriolanus had friends, ought they to have\nhelped him in fighting against his country, or should the friends of\nViscellinus [Footnote: Spurius Cassius Viscellinus, the author of the\nearliest agrarian law, passed, but never carried into execution. He was\ncondemned to death,--probably a victim to the rancorous opposition of\nthe patrician order, of which he was regarded as a recreant member by\nvirtue of his advocacy of the rights or just claims of the _plebs_.\nCicero in early life was by no means so hostile to the principle\nunderlying the agrarian laws, and to the memory of the Gracchi, as he\nwas after he had reached the highest offices in the gift of the people.]\nor those of Spurius Maelius [Footnote: Maelius, of the equestrian order,\nbut of a plebeian family, obtained unbounded popularity with the _plebs_\nby selling corn at a low price, and giving away large quantities of it,\nin a time of famine. He was charged with seeking kingly power, and, on\naccount of his alleged movements with that purpose, Cincinnatus was\nappointed dictator, and Maelius, resisting a summons to his tribunal,\nwas killed by Ahala, his master of the horse. There seems to have been\nlittle evidence of his actual guilt.] have aided them in the endeavor to\nusurp regal power? We saw, indeed, Tiberius Gracchus, when he was\ndisturbing the peace of the State, deserted by Quintus Tubero and others\nwith whom he had been on terms of intimacy. But Caius Blossius, of\nCumae, the guest, [Footnote: _Hospes,_ guest, host, or both.] Scaevola,\nof your family, coming to me, when I was in conference with the Consuls\nLaenas and Rupilius, to implore pardon, urged the plea that he held\nTiberius Gracchus in so dear esteem that he felt bound to do whatever he\ndesired. I then asked him, \"Even if he had wanted you to set fire to the\nCapitol, would you have done it?\" He replied, \"He never would have made\nsuch a request.\" \"But if he had?\" said I. \"I would have obeyed him,\" was\nthe answer. And, by Hercules, he did as he said, or even more; for he\ndid not so much yield obedience to the audacious schemes of Tiberius\nGracchus, as he was foremost in them; he was not so much the companion\nof his madness, as its leader. Therefore, in consequence of this folly,\nalarmed by the appointment of special judges for his trial, he fled to\nAsia, entered the service of our enemies, and finally met the heavy and\njust punishment for his disloyalty to his country. [Footnote: He took\nrefuge with Aristonicus, King of Pergamus, then at war with Rome; and\nwhen Aristonicus was conquered, Blossius committed suicide for fear of\nbeing captured by the Roman army.]\n\nIt is, then, no excuse for wrong-doing that you do wrong for the sake of\na friend. Indeed, since it may have been a belief in your virtue that\nhas made one your friend, it is hard for friendship to last if you fall\naway from virtue. But if we should determine either to concede to\nfriends whatever they may ask, or to exact from them whatever we may\ndesire, we and they must be endowed with perfect wisdom, in order for\nour friendship to be blameless. We are speaking, however, of such\nfriends as we have before our eyes, or as we have seen or have known by\nreport,--of such as are found in common life. It is from these that we\nmust take our examples, especially from such of them as make the nearest\napproach to perfect wisdom. We have learned from our fathers that Papus\nAemilius was very intimate with Caius Luscinus, they having twice been\nconsuls together, as well as colleagues in the censorship; and it is\nsaid also that Manius Curius and Tiberius Coruncanius lived in the\nclosest friendship both with them and with each other. Now we cannot\nsuspect that either of these men would have asked of one of his friends\nanything inconsistent with good faith, or with an engagement sanctioned\nby oath, or with his duty to the State. Indeed, to what purpose is it to\nsay that among such men if one had asked anything wrong, he would not\nhave obtained it? For they were men of the most sacred integrity; while\nto ask anything wrong of a friend and to do it when asked are alike\ntokens of deep depravity. But Caius Carbo and Caius Cato were the\nfollowers of Tiberius Gracchus, as was his brother Caius, at first with\nlittle ardor, but now [Footnote: _Now_, that is, at the time at which\nthis dialogue has its assumed date, immediately after Scipio's death. At\nthat time Caius Gracchus was acting as a commissioner under his\nbrother's agrarian law.] most zealously.\n\n12. As to friendship, then, let this law be enacted, that we neither ask\nof a friend what is wrong, nor do what is wrong at a friend's request.\nThe plea that it was for a friend's sake is a base apology,--one that\nshould never be admitted with regard to other forms of guilt, and\ncertainly not as to crimes against the State. We, indeed, Fannius and\nScaevola, are so situated that we ought to look far in advance for the\nperils that our country may incur. Already has our public policy\ndeviated somewhat from the method and course of our ancestors. Tiberius\nGracchus attempted to exercise supreme power; nay, he really reigned for\na few months. What like this had the Roman people ever heard or seen\nbefore? What, after his death, the friends and kindred who followed him\ndid in their revenge on Publius Scipio [Footnote: Publius Cornelius\nScipio Nasica, who took the lead of the Senate in the assassination of\nTiberius Gracchus, and incurred such popular odium that he could not\nsafely stay in Rome. He was sent on a fictitious mission to Asia to get\nhim out of the way of the people, and not daring to return, wandered\nwith no settled habitation till his death at Pergamum not long before\nthe assumed date of this dialogue.] I cannot say without tears. We put\nup with Carbo [Footnote: Carbo succeeded Tiberius Gracchus on the\ncommission for carrying the agrarian law into execution, and was shortly\nafterward chosen Tribune. He then proposed a law, permitting a tribune\nto be re-elected for an indefinite number of years. This law was\nvehemently opposed by Scipio Africanus the Younger, and if he was really\nkilled by Carbo, it was probably on account of his hostility to Carbo's\nambitious schemes.] as well as we could in consideration of the recent\npunishment of Tiberius Gracchus; but I am in no mood to predict what is\nto be expected from the tribuneship of Caius Gracchus. Meanwhile the\nevil is creeping upon us, from its very beginning fraught with threats\nof ruin. Before recent events, [Footnote: The reference undoubtedly here\nis to the Papirian law which had just been passed before the assumed\ndate of this dialogue, having been proposed and carried through by\n(Caius _Papirius_) Carbo. By this law the use of the ballot was\nestablished in all matters of popular legislation.] you perceive how\nmuch degeneracy was indicated in the legalization of the ballot, first\nby Gabinian, [Footnote: By which magistrates were to be chosen by\nballot.] then two years later by the Cassian law. [Footnote: By which\nthe judges were to be chosen by ballot. With reference to the use of the\nballot the parties in Rome were prototypes of like parties in England.\nThe voice of the people was for the ballot, on the ground that it made\nsuffrage free, as it could not be when employers or patrons could\ndictate to their dependents and make them suffer for failure to vote in\nfavor of their own candidates or measures. The aristocratic party\nopposed the ballot as fatal to their controlling influence, which many\nsincere patriots, like Cicero, regarded as essential to the public\nsafety, while patrician demagogues, intriguers, and office-seekers made\nit subservient to their own selfish or partisan interests.] I seem\nalready to see the people utterly alienated from the Senate, and the\nmost important affairs determined by the will of the multitude; for more\npersons will learn how these things are brought about than how they may\nbe resisted. To what purpose am I saying this? Because no one makes such\nattempts without associates. It is therefore to be enjoined on good men\nthat they must not think themselves so bound that they cannot renounce\ntheir friends when they are guilty of crimes against the State. But\npunishment must be inflicted on all who are implicated in such guilt,--on\nthose who follow, no less than on those who lead. Who in Greece was\nmore renowned than Themistocles? Who had greater influence than he had?\nWhen as commander in the Persian war he had freed Greece from bondage,\nand for envy of his fame was driven into exile, he did not bear as he\nought the ill treatment of his ungrateful country. He did what\nCoriolanus had done with us twenty years before. Neither of these men\nfound any helper against his country; [Footnote: No one of his own\nfellow-countrymen.] they therefore both committed suicide. [Footnote: If\nthe story of Coriolanus be not a myth, as Niebuhr supposes it to be, his\nsuicide forms no part of the story as Livy tells it. The suicide of\nThemistocles is related as a supposition, not as an established fact. If\nhe died of poison, as was said, it may have been administered by a rival\nin the favor of Artaxerxes.] Association with depraved men for such an\nend is not, then, to be shielded by the plea of friendship, but rather\nto be avenged by punishment of the utmost severity, so that no one may\never think himself authorized to follow a friend to the extent of making\nwar upon his country,--an extremity which, indeed, considering the\ncourse that our public affairs have begun to take, may, for aught I\nknow, be reached at some future time. I speak thus because I feel no\nless concern for the fortunes of the State after my death than as to its\npresent condition.\n\n13. Let this, then, be enacted as the first law of friendship, that we\ndemand of friends only what is right, and that we do for the sake of\nfriends only what is right. [Footnote: This is a virtual repetition of\nthe law of friendship announced at the beginning of the previous\nsection, and Cicero probably so intended it. He states the rule, then\ndemonstrates its validity, then repeats it in an almost identical form,\nimplying what the mathematician expresses when he puts at the end of a\ndemonstration _Quod \u00e8rat demonstrandum._] This understood, let us not\nwait to be asked. Let there be constant assiduity and no loitering in a\nfriend's service. Let us also dare to give advice freely; for in\nfriendship the authority of friends who give good counsel may be of the\ngreatest value. Let admonition be administered, too, not only in plain\nterms, but even with severity, if need be, and let heed be given to such\nadmonition. On this subject some things that appear to me strange have,\nas I am told, been maintained by certain Greeks who are accounted as\nphilosophers, and are so skilled in sophistry that there is nothing\nwhich they cannot seem to prove. Some of them hold that very intimate\nfriendships are to be avoided; that there is no need that one feel\nsolicitude for others; that it is enough and more than enough to take\ncare of your own concerns, and annoying to be involved to any\nconsiderable extent in affairs not belonging to you; that the best way\nis to have the reins of friendship as loose as possible, so that you can\ntighten them or let them go at pleasure; for, according to them, ease is\nthe chief essential to happy living, and this the mind cannot enjoy, if\nit bears, as it were, the pains of travail in behalf of a larger or\nsmaller circle of friends. [Footnote: This passage seems to be a\nparaphrase of a passage in the _Hippolytus_ of Euripides, in which the\nNurse says: \"It behooves mortals to form moderate friendships with one\nanother, and not to the very marrow of the soul, and the affections of\nthe mind should be held loosely, so that we may slacken or tighten them.\nThat one soul should be in travail for two is a heavy burden.\" Euripides\nwas regarded, and rightly, as no less a philosopher than a tragedian,\nand was not infrequently styled [Greek: sophos]. Cicero here veils his\nthorough conversance with Greek literature and philosophy, and assumes\nthe part of Laelius, in whose time, though Greek was not omitted in the\neducation of cultivated men, the study was comparatively new, and was\nnot carried to any great extent.]\n\nOthers, [Footnote: The Epicureans.] I am told, with even much less of\ntrue human feeling, teach what I touched upon briefly a little while\nago, that friendships are to be sought for defence and help, not on\naccount of good-will and affection. The less of self-confidence and the\nless of strength one has, the more is he inclined to make friends. Thus\nit is that women [Footnote: Latin, _mulierculae_, a diminutive, meaning,\nhowever, not _little women_, but denoting the feebleness and dependence\nof women in comparison with men. It must be confessed, too, that the\nterm is sometimes used, and perhaps here, semi-contemptuously; for the\nRoman man felt an overweening pride in mere manhood.] seek the support\nof friendship more than men do, the poor more than the rich, the\nunfortunate more than those who seem happy. Oh, pre-eminent wisdom! It\nis like taking the sun out of the world, to bereave human life of\nfriendship, than which the immortal gods have given man nothing better,\nnothing more gladdening. What is the ease of which they speak? It is\nindeed pleasing in aspect, but on many occasions it is to be renounced;\nfor it is not fitting, in order to avoid solicitude, either to refuse to\nundertake any right cause or act, or to drop it after it is undertaken.\nIf we flee from care, we must flee from virtue, which of necessity with\nno little care spurns and abhors its opposites, as goodness spurns and\nabhors wickedness; temperance, excess; courage, cowardice. Thus you may\nsee that honest men are excessively grieved by the dishonest, the brave\nby the pusillanimous, those who lead sober lives by the dissolute. It is\nindeed characteristic of a well-ordered mind to rejoice in what is good\nand to be grieved by the opposite. If then, pain of mind fall to the lot\nof a wise man as it must of necessity unless we imagine his mind\ndivested of its humanity, why should we take friendship wholly out of\nlife, lest we experience some little trouble on account of it? Yet more,\nif emotion be eliminated, what difference is there, I say not between a\nman and a brute, but between a man and a rock, or the trunk of a tree,\nor any inanimate object? Nor are those to be listened to, who regard\nvirtue as something hard and iron-like. [Footnote: Here, undoubtedly,\nCicero refers to the sterner type of Stoicism, which in his time was\nalready obsolescent, and was yielding place to the milder, while no less\nrigid, ethics of which the _De Officiis_ may be regarded as the manual.]\nAs in many other matters, so in friendship, it is tender and flexible so\nthat it expands, as it were, with a friend's well being, and shrinks\nwhen his peace is disturbed. Therefore the pain which must often be\nincurred on a friend's account is not of sufficient moment to banish\nfriendship from human life, any more than the occasional care and\ntrouble which the virtues bring should be a reason for renouncing them.\n\n14. Since virtue attracts friendship, as I have said, if there shines\nforth any manifestation of virtue with which a mind similarly disposed\ncan come into contact and union from such intercourse love must of\nnecessity spring. For what is so absurd as to be charmed with many\nthings that have no substantial worth, as with office, fame,\narchitecture, dress, and genteel appearance, but not to be in any wise\ncharmed by a mind endowed with virtue, and capable of either loving\nor--if I may use the word--re-loving? [Footnote: Latin, _redamare_, a word\ncoined by Cicero, and used with the apology, _ut ita dicam_] Nothing\nindeed yields a richer revenue than kind affections, nothing gives more\ndelight than the interchange of friendly cares and offices. Then if we\nadd, as we rightly may, that there is nothing which so allures and\nattracts aught else to itself as the likeness of character does to\nfriendship it will certainly be admitted that good men love good men and\nadopt them into fellowship as if united with them by kindred and by\nnature. By nature I say, for nothing is more craving or greedy of its\nlike than nature. This, then as I think, is evident, Fannius and\nScaevola that among the good toward the good there cannot but be mutual\nkind feeling and in this we have a fountain of friendship established by\nnature.\n\nBut the same kind feeling extends to the community at large. For virtue\nis not unsympathetic, nor unserviceable, [Footnote: Latin, _immunis_,\nliterally--without office.] nor proud. It is wont even to watch over the\nwell-being of whole nations, and to give them the wisest counsel, which\nit would not do if it had no love for the people.\n\nNow those who maintain that friendships are formed from motives of\nutility annul, as it seems to me, the most endearing bond of friendship;\nfor it is not so much benefit obtained through a friend as it is the\nvery love of the friend that gives delight. What comes from a friend\nconfers pleasure, only in case it bears tokens of his interest in us,\nand so far is it from the truth that friendships are cultivated from a\nsense of need, that those fully endowed with wealth and resources,\nespecially with virtue, which is the surest safeguard, and thus in no\nneed of friends, are the very persons who are the most generous and\nmunificent. Indeed, I hardly know whether it may not be desirable that\nour friends should never have need of our services. Yet in the case of\nScipio and myself, what room would there have been for the active\nexercise of my zeal in his behalf, had he never needed my counsel or\nhelp at home or in the field? In this instance, however, the service\ncame after the friendship, not the friendship after the service.\n\n15. If these things are so, men who are given up to pleasure are not to\nbe listened to when they express their opinions about friendship, of\nwhich they can have no knowledge either by experience or by reflection.\nFor, by the faith of gods and men, who is there that would be willing to\nhave a superabundance of all objects of desire and to live in the utmost\nfulness of wealth and what wealth can bring, on condition of neither\nloving any one nor being loved by any one? This, indeed, is the life of\ntyrants, in which there is no good faith, no affection, no fixed\nconfidence in kindly feeling, perpetual suspicion and anxiety, and no\nroom for friendship; for who can love either him whom he fears, or him\nby whom he thinks that he is feared? Yet they receive the show of\nhomage, but only while the occasion for it lasts. [Footnote: Latin, _dum\ntaxat ad tempus_, that is, while the homage rendered is in close contact\nwith the occasion,--with the immunity or profit to be purchased by it.]\nIf they chance to fall, as they commonly have fallen, they then\nascertain how destitute of friends they have been, as Tarquin is\nreported to have said that he learned what faithful and what unfaithful\nfriends he had, when he could no longer render back favors to those of\neither class,--although I wonder whether pride and insolence like his\ncould have had any friends. Moreover, as his character could not have\nwon real friends, so is the good fortune of many who occupy foremost\nplaces of influence so held as to preclude faithful friendships. Not\nonly is Fortune blind, but she generally makes those blind whom she\nembraces. Thus they are almost always beside themselves under the\ninfluence of haughtiness and waywardness; nor can there be created\nanything more utterly insupportable than a fortune-favored fool. There\nare to be seen those who previously behaved with propriety who are\nchanged by station, power, or prosperity, and who spurn their old\nfriendships and lavish indulgence on the new. But what is more foolish\nthan when men have resources, means, wealth at their fullest command,\nand can obtain horses, servants, splendid raiment, costly vases,\nwhatever money can buy, for them not to procure friends, who are, if I\nmay so speak, the best and the most beautiful furniture of human life?\nOther things which a man may procure know not him who procures them, nor\ndo they labor for his sake,--indeed, they belong to him who can make\nthem his by the right of superior strength. But every one has his own\nfirm and sure possession of his friendships, while even if those things\nwhich seem the gifts of fortune remain, still life unadorned and\ndeserted by friends cannot be happy. But enough has been said on this\nbranch of our subject.\n\n16. We must now determine the limits or bounds of friendship. On this\nsubject I find three opinions proposed, neither of which has my\napproval,--the first, that we should do for our friends just what we\nwould do for ourselves, the second, that our good offices to our friends\nshould correspond in quantity and quality to those which they perform\nfor us, the third, that one's friends should value him according to his\nown self-estimate. I cannot give unqualified assent to either of these\nopinions. The first--that one should be ready to do for his friends\nprecisely what he would do for himself--is inadmissible. How many things\nthere are that we do for our friends which we should never do on our own\naccount!--such as making a request even an entreaty, of a man unworthy\nof respect or inveighing against some person with a degree of\nbitterness, nay, in terms of vehement reproach. In fine, we are\nperfectly right in doing in behalf of a friend things that in our own\ncase would be decidedly unbecoming. There are also many ways in which\ngood men detract largely from their own comfort or suffer it to be\nimpaired, that a friend may have the enjoyment which they sacrifice. The\nsecond opinion is that which limits kind offices and good will by the\nrule of equality. This is simply making friendship a matter of\ncalculation with the view of keeping a debtor and creditor account\nevenly balanced. To me friendship seems more affluent and generous and\nnot disposed to keep strict watch lest it may give more than it receives\nand to fear that a part of its due may be spilled over or suffered to\nleak out or that it may heap up its own measure over full in return.\n[Footnote: We have here, first, a figure drawn from pecuniary accounts,\nthen one from liquid measure, then one from dry measure--all designed to\naffix the brand of the most petty meanness on the (so called) friendship\nwhich makes it a point neither to leave nor to brook a preponderance of\nobligation on either side.] But worst of all is the third limit which\nprescribes that friends shall take a man's opinion of himself as a\nmeasure for their estimate and treatment of him. There are some persons\nwho are liable to fits of depression, or who have little hope of better\nfortune than the present. In such a case, it is the part of a friend,\nnot to hold the position toward his friend which he holds toward\nhimself, but to make the efficient endeavor to rouse him from his\ndespondency, and to lead him to better hope and a more cheerful train of\nthought. It remains for me then, to establish another limit of\nfriendship. But first let me tell you what Scipio was wont to speak of\nwith the severest censure. He maintained that no utterance could have\nbeen invented more inimical to friendship [Footnote: Latin, _inimciorem_\n(that is, _in amiciorem_) _amicitiae_.] than that of him who said that\none ought to love as if he were going at some future time to hate, nor\ncould he be brought to believe that this maxim came, as was reported\nfrom Bias, who was one of the seven wise men, but he regarded it as\nhaving proceeded from some sordid person, who was either inordinately\nambitious or desirous of bringing everything under his own control. For\nhow can one be a friend to him to whom he thinks that he may possibly\nbecome an enemy? In this case one would of necessity desire and choose\nthat his friend should commit offences very frequently, so as to give\nhim, so to speak, the more numerous handles for fault-finding, and on\nthe other hand one would be vexed, pained, aggrieved by all the right\nand fitting things that friends do. This precept then from whomsoever it\ncame, amounts to the annulling of friendship. The proper rule should be,\nthat we exercise so much caution in forming friendships, that we should\nnever begin to love a friend whom it is possible that we should ever\nhate; but even in case we should have been unfortunate in our choice,\nScipio thought that it would be wiser to bear the disappointment when it\ncomes than to keep the contingency of future alienation in view.\n\n17. I would then define the terms of friendship by saying that where\nfriends are of blameless character, there may fittingly be between them\na community of all interests, plans, and purposes without any exception\neven so far that, if perchance there be occasion for furthering the not\nentirely right wishes of friends when life or reputation is at stake,\none may in their behalf deviate somewhat from a perfectly straight\ncourse (1) yet not so far as to\n\n[1 This at first sight appears like a license to yield up moral\nconsiderations to friendship, though the qualification, in the sequel,\n\"not so far as to incur absolute dishonor,\" and \"virtue is by no means\nto be sacrificed,\" seem saving clauses.  But Cicero certainly has a\nright to be his own interpreter since in the _De Officiis_ as I think,\nhe explains in full and in accordance with the highest moral principle,\nwhat he means here, and we have a double right to insist on this\ninterpretation first, because the _De Officiis_ was written so very\nlittle while after the _De Amicitia_, and both at so ripe an age, that a\nchange of opinion on important matters was improbable and secondly,\nbecause in the later treatise he expressly refers to the former as\ngiving in full his views on friendship, and thus virtually sanctions\nthat treatise.  Now in the _De Officiis_ he says  A good man will do\nnothing against the State, or in violation of his oath of good faith,\nfor the sake of his friend, not even if he were a judge in his friend's\ncase. . . . He will yield so far to friendship as to wish his friend's\ncase to be worthy of succeeding, and to accommodate him as to the time\nof trial, within legal limits.  But inasmuch as he must give sentence\nupon his oath, he will bear it in mind that he has \"God for a witness.\"\nIn another passage of the _De Officiis,_ Cicero asserts, somewhat\nhesitatingly, yet on the authority of Panaetius as the strictest of\nStoics, the moral rightfulness of \"defending on some occasions a guilty\nman, if he be not utterly depraved and false to all human relations.\" As\nin the passage on which I am commenting special reference is made to the\nperil of life or reputation, what Cicero contends for, as it seems to\nme, is the right of defending a guilty friend as advocate, or of\nfavoring him as to time and mode of trial as a judge. Aulius Gellius, in\nconnection with this passage in _De Amicitia,_ tells the following story\nof Chilo, who was on some of the lists of the seven wise men. Chilo, on\nthe last day of his life, said that the only thing that gave him uneasy\nthought, and was burdensome to his conscience, was that once when he and\ntwo other men were judges in a case in which a friend of his was tried\nfor a capital crime, he, in accordance with his own conviction, voted\nhis friendy guilty, but so influenced the minds of his two associates\nthat they gave their voice for his acquittal.]\n\nincur absolute dishonor. There is a point up to which a concession made\nto friendship is venial. But we are not bound to be careless of our own\nreputation, nor ought we to regard the esteem of our fellow-citizens as\nan instrument of such affairs as devolve upon us,--an esteem which it is\nbase to conciliate [Footnote: Latin, _colligere,_ to collect, or gather\nup, one by one, the good-will of each individual citizen.] by flattery\nand fawning. Virtue, which has the sincere regard of the people as its\nconsequence, is by no means to be sacrificed to friendship.\n\nBut, to return to Scipio, who was all the time talking about friendship,\nhe often complained that men exercised greater care about all other\nmatters; that one could always tell how many goats and sheep he had, but\ncould not tell how many friends he had; and that men were careful in\nselecting their beasts, but were negligent in the choice of friends, and\nhad nothing like marks and tokens [Footnote: Latin, _signa et notas,_\nthe marks and tokens by which the quality and worth of goats and sheep\nwere estimated.] by which to determine the fitness of friends.\n\nFirm, steadfast, self-consistent men are to be chosen as friends, and of\nthis kind of men there is a great dearth. It is very difficult to judge\nof character before we have tested it; but we can test it only after\nfirendship is begun. Thus friendship is prone to outrun judgment, and to\nrender a fair trial impossible. It is therefore the part of a wise man\nto arrest the impulse of kindly feeling, as we check a carriage in its\ncourse, that, as we use only horses that have been tried, so we may\navail ourselves of friendships in which the characters of our friends\nhave been somehow put to the test. Some readily show how fickle their\nfriendship is in paltry pecuniary matters; others, whom a slight\nconsideration of that kind cannot influence, betray themselves when a\nlarge amount is involved. But if some can be found who think it mean to\nprefer money to friendship, where shall we come upon those who do not\nput honors, civic offices, military commands, places of power and trust,\nbefore friendship, so that when these are offered on the one hand, and\nthe claims of friendship on the other, they will much rather make choice\nof the objects of ambition? For nature is too feeble to despise a\ncommanding station, and even though it be obtained by the violation of\nfriendship men think that this fault will be thrown into obscurity,\nbecause it was not without a weighty motive that they held friendship in\nabeyance. Thus true friendships are rare among those who are in public\noffice, and concerned in the affairs of the State. For where will you\nfind him who prefers a friend's promotion to his own? What more shall I\nsay? Not to dwell longer on the influence of ambition upon friendship,\nhow burdensome how difficult does it seem to most men to share\nmisfortunes to which it is not easy to find those who are willing to\nstoop. Although Ennius is right in saying\n\n\"In unsure fortune a sure friend is seen,\"\n\nyet one of these two things convicts most persons of fickleness and\nweakness,--either their despising their friends when they themselves are\nprosperous, or deserting their friends in adversity.\n\n18 Him, then, who alike in either event shall have shown himself\nunwavering, constant, firm in friendship we ought to regard as of an\nexceedingly rare and almost divine order of men.\n\nStill further good faith is essential to the maintenance of the\nstability and constancy which we demand in friendship, for nothing that\nis unfaithful is stable. It is, moreover, fitting to choose for a friend\none who is frank, affable, accommodating, interested in the same things\nwith ourselves,--all which qualities come under the head of fidelity,\nfor a changeful and wily disposition cannot be faithful, nor can he who\nhas not like interests and a kindred nature with his friend be either\nfaithful or stable. I ought to add that a friend should neither take\npleasure in finding fault with his friend, nor give credit to the\ncharges which others may bring against him,--all which is implied in the\nconstancy of which I have been speaking. Thus we come back to the truth\nwhich I announced at the beginning of our conversation, that friendship\ncan exist only between the good. It is, indeed, the part of a good\nor--what is the same thing--a wise man [Footnote: Wisdom and goodness\nwere identical with the Stoics.] to adhere to these two principles in\nfriendship,--first, that he tolerate no feigning or dissembling (for an\ningenuous man will rather show even open hatred than hide his feeling by\nhis face), and, secondly, that he not only repel charges made against\nhis friend by others, but that he be not himself suspicious, and always\nthinking that his friend has done something unfriendly.\n\nTo these requisites there may well be added suavity of speech and\nmanners, which is of no little worth as giving a relish to the\nintercourse of friendship. Rigidness and austerity of demeanor on every\noccasion indeed carry weight with them, but friendship ought to be more\ngentle and mild, and more inclined to all that is genial and affable.\n\n19 There occurs here a question by no means difficult,[Footnote: Latin,\n_subdifficilis_ which I should render _somewhat difficult_ had not\nCicero treat that question as one that presents no difficulty. In the\nancient tongues, as in our own or even more than in our own, a word is\noften better defined by its use than in the dictionary.] whether at any\ntime new friends worthy of our love are to be preferred to the old, as\nwe are wont to prefer young horses to those that have passed their\nprime. Shame that there should be hesitation as to the answer! There\nought to be no satiety of friendships, as there is rightly of many other\nthings. The older a friendship is, the more precious should it be as is\nthe case with wines that will bear keeping, [Footnote: Some of the best\nItalian wines will not \"bear keeping,\" and it was probably true of more\nof them in Cicero's time than now that wines are so often vitiated by\nstrong alcoholic mixtures in order to preserve them. Cato, in his _De Re\nRustica_, prescribes a method of determining whether the wine of any\ngiven vintage will \"keep\".] and there is truth in the proverb that many\npecks of salt must be eaten together to bring friendship to perfection.\n[Footnote: Aristotle quotes this as a proverbial saying, so that it must\nbe of very great antiquity.] If new friendships offer the hope of fruit,\nlike the young shoots in the grain-field that give promise of harvest,\nthey are not indeed to be spurned, yet the old are to be kept in their\nplace. There is very great power in long habit. To recur to the horse\nthere is no one who would not rather use the horse to which he has\nbecome accustomed, if he is still sound, than one unbroken and new. Nor\nhas habit this power merely as to the movements of an animal, it\nprevails no less as to inanimate objects. We are charmed with the places\nthough mountainous and woody, [Footnote: Therefore uninviting, for\nmountain and forest had not in early time the charm which we find in\nthem. Indeed the love of nature uncultivated and unadorned is for the\nmost part, of modern growth.] where we have made a long sojourn. But\nwhat is most remarkable in friendship is that it puts a man on an\nequality with his inferior. For there often are in a circle of friends\nthose who excel the rest, as was the case with Scipio in our flock, if I\nmay use the word. He never assumed superiority over Philus, never over\nRupilius, never over Mummius, never over friends of an order lower than\nhis own. Indeed he always reverenced as a superior, because older than\nhimself, his brother Quintus Maximus [Footnote: Quintus Fabius Maximus\nAemilianus, the eldest son of Aemilius Paulus, and the adopted son of\nFabius Maximus.] a thoroughly worthy man, but by no means his equal, and\nin fact he wanted to make all his friends of the more consequence by\nwhatever advantages he himself possessed. This example all ought to\nimitate, that if they have attained any superiority of virtue, genius,\nfortune, they may impart it to and share it with those with whom they\nare the most closely connected; and that if they are of humble\nparentage, and have kindred of slender ability or fortune, they may\nincrease their means of well-being, and reflect honor and worth upon\nthem,--as in fable those who were long in servile condition through\nignorance of their parentage and race, when they were recognized and\nfound to be sons either of gods or of kings, retained their love for the\nshepherds whom for many years they supposed to be their fathers. Much\nmore ought the like to be done in the case of real and well-known\nfathers; for the best fruit of genius, and virtue, and every kind of\nexcellence is reaped when it is thus bestowed on near kindred and\nfriends.\n\n20. Moreover, as among persons bound by ties of friendship and intimacy\nthose who hold the higher place ought to bring themselves down to the\nsame plane with their inferiors, so ought these last not to feel\naggrieved because they are surpassed in ability, or fortune, or rank by\ntheir friends. Most of them, however, are always finding some ground of\ncomplaint, or even of reproach, especially if they can plead any service\nthat they have rendered faithfully, in a friendly way, and with a\ncertain amount of painstaking on their part. Such men, indeed, are\nhateful when they reproach their friends on the score of services which\nhe on whom they were bestowed ought to bear in mind, but which it is\nunbecoming for him who conferred them to recount.\n\nThose who are superior ought, undoubtedly, not only to waive all\npretension in friendly intercourse, but to do what they can to raise\ntheir humbler friends to their own level.(l) There are some who give\ntheir friends trouble by imagining that they are held in low esteem,\nwhich, however, is not apt to be the case except with those who think\nmeanly of themselves. Those who feel thus ought to be raised to a just\nself-esteem, not only by kind words, but by substantial service. But\nwhat you do for any one must be measured, first by your own ability, and\nthen by the capacity of him whom you would favor and help. For, however\ngreat your influence may be, you cannot raise all your friends to the\nhighest positions. Thus Scipio could effect the election of Publius\nRupilius to the consulship; but he could not do the same for his brother\nLucius.(2) In general, friendships that are properly so called are\nformed between persons of mature years and established character; nor if\nyoung men have been fond of hunting or of ball-playing, is there any\nneed of permanent attachment to those whom they then liked as associates\nin the same sport. On this principle our nurses and the slaves that led\nus to school will demand by right of priority the highest grade\n\n[1 Or, as it might be rendered by supplying a _se_ \"so ought the humbler\nto do what they can to raise themselves.\" Some of the commentators\nprefer this sense; but if Cicero meant _se,_ I think that he would have\nwritten it.]\n\n[2 The brother of Publius Rupilius, not his own brother.]\n\nof affectionate regard,--persons, indeed, who are not to be neglected,\nbut who are on a somewhat different footing from that of friends.\nFriendships formed solely from early associations cannot last; for\ndifferences of character grow out of a diversity of pursuits, and\nunlikeness of character dissolves friendships. Nor is there any reason\nwhy good men cannot be the friends of bad men, or bad men of good,\nexcept that the dissiliency of pursuits and of character between them is\nas great as it can be.\n\nIt is also a counsel worthy of heed, that excessive fondness be not\nsuffered to interfere, as it does too often, with important services\nthat a friend can render. To resort again to fable, Neoptolemus could\nnot have taken Troy [Footnote: Or rather, could not have borne the\nindispensable part which it was predicted that he should bear in the\ntaking of Troy.] if he had chosen to comply with the wishes of Lycomedes,\nwho brought him up, and who with many tears attempted to dissuade him\nfrom his expedition. Equally in actual life there are not infrequently\nimportant occasions on which the society of friends must be for a time\nabandoned; and he who would prevent this because he cannot easily bear\nthe separation, is of a weak and unmanly nature, and for that very\nreason unfit to fill the place of a friend. In fine, in all matters you\nshould take into consideration both what you may reasonably demand of\nyour friend, and what you can fitly suffer him to obtain from you.\n\n21. The misfortune involved in the dissolution of friendships is\nsometimes unavoidable; for I am now coming down from the intimacies of\nwise men to common friendships. Faults of friends often betray\nthemselves openly--whether to the injury of their friends themselves, or\nof strangers--in such a way that the disgrace falls back upon their\nfriends. Such friendships are to be effaced by the suspension of\nintercourse, and, as I have heard Cato say, to be unstitched rather than\ncut asunder, unless some quite intolerable offence flames out to full\nview, so that it can be neither right nor honorable not to effect an\nimmediate separation and dissevering. But if there shall have been some\nchange either in character or in the habits of life, or if there have\nsprung up some difference of opinion as to public affairs,--I am\nspeaking, as I have just said, of common friendships, not of those\nbetween wise men,--care should be taken lest there be the appearance,\nnot only of friendship dropped, but of enmity taken up; for nothing is\nmore unbecoming than to wage war with a man with whom you have lived on\nterms of intimacy. Scipio, as you know, had withdrawn from the\nfriendship of Quintus Pompeius [Footnote: Laelius intending to present\nhimself as a candidate for the consulship, Scipio asked Pompeius whether\nhe was going to be a candidate, and when he replied in the negative,\nasked him to use his influence in behalf of Laelius. This Pompeius\npromised, and then, instead of being true to his word, offered himself\nfor the consulship, and was elected.] on my account, he became alienated\nfrom Metellus [Footnote: Scipio and Metellus, though their intimacy was\nsuspended for political reasons, held each other in the highest regard,\nand no person in Rome expressed profounder sorrow than Metellus for\nScipio's death or was more warm in his praise as a man of unparalleled\nability, worth, and patriotism.] because of their different views as to\nthe administration of the State. In both cases he conducted himself with\ngravity and dignity, and without any feeling of bitterness. The endeavor\nthen, must first be, to prevent discord from taking place among friends,\nand if anything of the kind occurs, to see that the friendship may seem\nto be extinguished rather than crushed out. Care must thus be taken lest\nfriendships lapse into violent enmities, whence are generated quarrels,\nslanders, insults, which yet, if not utterly intolerable, are to be\nendured and this honor tendered to old friendship that the blame may\nrest with him who does not with him who suffers the wrong.\n\nThe one surety and preventive against these mistakes and misfortunes is,\nnot to form attachments too soon, nor for those unworthy of such regard.\nBut it is those in whose very selves there is reason why they should be\nloved, that are worthy of friendship. A rare class of men! Indeed,\nsuperlatively excellent objects of every sort are rare, nor is anything\nmore difficult than to discover that which is in all respects perfect in\nits kind. But most persons have acquired the habit of recognizing\nnothing as good in human relations and affairs that does not produce\nsome revenue, and they most love those friends, as they do those cattle,\nthat will yield them the greatest gain. Thus they lack that most\nbeautiful and most natural friendship, which is to be sought in itself\nand for its own sake, nor can they know from experience what and how\ngreat is the power of such friendship. One loves himself, not in order\nto exact from himself any wages for such love, but because he is in\nhimself dear to himself. Now, unless this same property be transferred\nto friendship, a true friend will never be found, for such a friend is,\nas it were, another self. But if it is seen in beasts, birds, fishes,\nanimals tame and wild, that they first love themselves (for self-love is\nborn with everything that lives) and that they then require and seek\nthose of their kind to whom they may attach themselves, and do so with\ndesire and with a certain semblance of human love, how much more is this\nnatural in man, who both loves himself, and craves another whose soul he\nmay so blend with his own as almost to make one out of two.\n\n22 But men in general are so perverse, not to say shameless, as to wish\na friend to be in character what they themselves could not be and they\nexpect of friends what they do not give them in return. The proper\ncourse however, is for one first to be himself a good man, and then to\nseek another like himself. In such persons the stability of friendship,\nof which I have been speaking, can be made sure, since, united in mutual\nlove, they will, in the first place, hold in subjection the desires to\nwhich others are enslaved; then they will find delight in whatever is\nequitable and just, and each will take upon himself any labor or burden\nin the other's stead, while neither will ever ask of the other aught\nthat is not honorable and right. Nor will they merely cherish and love,\nthey will even reverence each other. But he who bereaves friendship of\nmutual respect (1) takes from it its greatest ornament. Therefore those\nare in fatal error who think that in friendship there is free license\nfor all lusts and evil practices. Friendship is given by nature, not as\na companion of the vices, but as a helper of the virtues, that, as\nsolitary virtue might not be able to attain the summit of excellence,\nunited and associated with another it might reach that eminence. As to\nthose between whom there is, or has been, or shall be such an alliance,\nthe fellowship is to be regarded as the best and happiest possible,\ninasmuch as it leads to the highest good that nature can bestow. This is\nthe alliance, I say, in which are included all things that men think\nworthy their endeavor,--honor, fame, peace of mind, and pleasure, so\nthat if these be present life is happy, and cannot be happy without\nthem. Such a life being the best\n\n[1 Latin, _verecundio,_ an indefinite word; for it may have almost any\ngood meaning. I have rendered it _respect_, because I have no doubt that\nit derives its meaning here from _verebuntur_, which I have rendered\n_reverence_, in the preceding sentence.]\n\nand greatest boon, if we wish to make it ours, we must devote ourselves\nto the cultivation of virtue, without which we can attain neither\nfriendship nor anything else desirable. But if virtue be left out of the\naccount, those who think that they have friends perceive that they are\nmistaken when some important crisis compels them to put their friends to\nthe test. Therefore--for it is worth reiterating--you ought to love\nafter having exercised your judgment on your friends, instead of forming\nyour judgment of them after you have begun to love them. But while in\nmany things we are chargeable with carelessness, we are most so in\nchoosing and keeping our friends. We reverse the old proverb, [Footnote:\nWhat this proverb may have been we cannot determine with precision from\nits opposite; but the caution based upon it might remind one of our\nproverb about shutting the barn door after the horse is stolen. The\nwords, _acta agimus,_ so terse that they can be translated only by a\nparaphrase, are probably the converse of the proverb, which may have\nbeen something like _non agenda sunt acta_.] take counsel after acting,\nand attempt to do over again what we have done; for after having become\nclosely connected by long habit and even by mutual services, some\noccasion of offence springs up, and we suddenly break in sunder a\nfriendship in full career.\n\n23. The more blameworthy are they who are so very careless in a matter\nof so essential importance. Indeed, among things appertaining to human\nlife, it is friendship alone that has the unanimous voice of all men as\nto its capacity of service. By many even virtue is scorned, and is said\nto be a mere matter of display and ostentation. Many despise wealth, and\ncontented with little take pleasure in slender diet and inexpensive\nliving. Though some are inflamed with desire for office, many there are\nwho hold it in so low esteem that they can imagine nothing more inane or\nworthless. Other things too, which seem to some admirable, very many\nregard as of no value. But all have the same feeling as to\nfriendship,--alike those who devote themselves to the public service,\nthose who take delight in learning and philosophy, those who manage their\nown affairs in a quiet way, and, lastly, those who are wholly given up to\nsensual pleasure. They all agree that without friendship life cannot be,\nif one only means to live in some form or measure respectably. [Footnote:\nLatin _liberaliter_ that is, worthily of a free man.] For friendship\nsomehow twines through all lives and leaves no mode of being without its\npresence. Even if one be of so rude and savage a nature as to shun and\nhate the society of men, as we have learned was the case with that Timon\nof Athens, [Footnote: Plutarch says that Timon had an associate,\nvirtually a friend, not unlike himself, Apemantus, on whom he freely\nvented his spite and scorn for all the world beside and that he also\ntook a special liking to Alcibiades in his youth, perhaps as to one\nfitted and destined to do an untold amount of mischief.] if there ever\nwas such a man [Footnote: Latin, _nescio, quem_, I know not whom, or of\nwhom I am ignorant, that is, there may or may not have been such a man.]\nhe yet cannot help seeking some one in whose presence he may vomit the\nvenom of his bitterness. The need of friendship would be best shown,\nwere such a thing possible, if some god should take us away from this\nhuman crowd, and place us anywhere in solitude, giving us there an\nabundant supply of all things that nature craves but depriving us\nutterly of the sight of a human countenance. Who could be found of so\niron make that he could endure [Footnote: Latin, tam ... _ferreus,_ qiu\n... _ferre_ posset,--an assonance which cannot be represented by\ncorresponding English words.] such a life, and whom solitude would not\nrender incapable of enjoying any kind of pleasure? That is true then\nwhich, if I remember aright, our elders used to say that they had heard\nfrom their seniors in age as having come from Archytas of Tarentum--\"If\none had ascended to heaven and had obtained a full view of the nature of\nthe universe and the beauty of the stars, yet his admiration would be\nwithout delight, if there were no one to whom he could tell what he had\nseen.\" Thus Nature has no love for solitude, and always leans as it were,\non some support, and the sweetest support is found in the most intimate\nfriendship.\n\n24 But while Nature declares by so many tokens what she desires, craves,\nneeds, we--I know not how--grow deaf, and fail to hear her counsel.\n\nIntercourse among friends assumes many different forms and modes, and\nthere frequently arise causes of suspicion and offence, which it is the\npart of a wise man sometimes to avoid, sometimes to remove, sometimes to\nbear. One ground of offence, namely, freedom in telling the truth, must\nbe put entirely away, in order that friendship may retain its\nserviceableness and its good faith, for friends often need to be\nadmonished and reproved, and such offices, when kindly performed, ought\nto be received in a friendly way. Yet somehow we witness in actual life,\nwhat my friend [Footnote: Terence with whom Laelius was so intimate that\nhe was reported probably on no sufficient ground to have aided in the\ncomposition of some of the plays that bear Terence's name. This verse is\nfrom the _Andria._] says in his play of _Andria_--\n\n\n\"Complacency *[Footnote: _Obsequium_] wins friends, but truth gives\nbirth to hatred.\"\n\nTruth is offensive, if hatred, the bane of friendship is indeed born of\nit, but much more offensive is complacency, when in its indulgence for\nwrong doing it suffers a friend to go headlong to ruin. The greatest\nblame, however, rests on him who both spurns the truth when it is told\nhim and is driven by the complacency of friends to self-deception. In\nthis matter therefore there should be the utmost discretion and care,\nfirst, that admonition be without bitterness, then, that reproof be\nwithout invective. But in complacency--for I am ready to use the word\nwhich Terence furnishes--let pleasing truth be told, let flattery, the\nhandmaid of the vices be put far away, as unworthy, not only of a\nfriend, but of any man above the condition of a slave, for there is one\nway of living with a tyrant, another with a friend. We may well despair\nof saving him whose ears are so closed to the truth that he cannot hear\nwhat is true from a friend. Among the many pithy sayings of Cato was\nthis 'There are some who owe more to their bitter enemies than to the\nfriends that seem sweet, for those often tell the truth, these never'.\nIt is indeed ridiculous for those who are admonished not to be annoyed\nby what ought to trouble them, and to be annoyed by what ought to give\nthem no offence. Their faults give them no pain, they take it hard that\nthey are reproved,--while they ought, on the contrary, to be grieved for\ntheir wrong-doing, to rejoice in their correction.\n\n25 As, then, it belongs to friendship both to admonish and to be\nadmonished, and to do the former freely, yet not harshly, to receive the\nlatter patiently not resentfully, so it is to be maintained that\nfriendship has no greater pest than adulation, flattery, subserviency,\nfor under its many names [Footnote: Latin _multis nominibus,_ which some\ncommentators render \"on many accounts\" with reference to matters of\npurchase and sale, debit and credit. But I think that Cicero brings in\n_adulatio, blanditia, and assentatio,_ as so many synonyms of\n_obsequtum,_ intending to comprehend in his indictment whatever alias\nthe one vice may assume.] a brand should be put on this vice of fickle\nand deceitful men, who say everything with the view of giving pleasure,\nwithout any reference to the truth. While simulation is bad on every\naccount, inasmuch as it renders the discernment of the truth which it\ndefaces impossible, it is most of all inimical to friendship; for it is\nfatal to sincerity, without which the name of friendship ceases to have\nany meaning. For since the essence of friendship consists in this, that\none mind is, as it were, made out of several, how can this be, if in one\nof the several there shall be not always one and the same mind, but a\nmind varying, changeful, manifold? And what can be so flexible, so far\nout of its rightful course, as the mind of him who adapts himself, not\nonly to the feelings and wishes, but een to the look and gesture, of\nanother?\n\n\n\"Does one say No or Yes? I say so too My rule is to assent to\neverything,\"\n\nas Terence, whom I have just quoted, says, but he says it in the person\nof Gnatho,[Footnote: A parasite in Terence's play of _Eunuchus_, from\nwhich these verses are quoted.]--a sort of friend which only a frivolous\nmind can tolerate. But as there are many like Gnatho, who stand higher\nthan he did in place, fortune, and reputation, then subserviency is the\nmore offensive, because then position gives weight to their falsehood.\n\nBut a flattering friend may be distinguished and discriminated from a\ntrue friend by proper care, as easily as everything disguised and\nfeigned is seen to differ from what is genuine and real. The assembly of\nthe people, though consisting of persons who have the least skill in\njudgment, yet always knows the difference between him who, merely\nseeking popularity, is sycophantic and fickle, and a firm inflexible,\nand substantial citizen. With what soft words did Caius Papirius\n[Footnote: Caius Papirius Carbo, the suspected murderer of Scipio.]\nsteal [Footnote: Latin _influebat_ flowed in, a figure beautifully\nappropriate, but hardly translatable.] into the ears of the assembly a\nlittle while ago, when he brought forward the law about the re-election\nof the tribunes of the people! [Footnote: There was an old law, which\nprohibited the re-election of a citizen to the same office till after an\ninterval of ten years. In the law here referred to, Carbo--then tribune\n--sought to provide for the re-election of tribunes as soon and as often\nas the people might choose, thus undoubtedly hoping to secure for\nhimself a permanent tenure of office.] I opposed the law. But, to say\nnothing of myself, I will rather speak of Scipio. How great, ye immortal\ngods, was his dignity of bearing! What majesty of address! So that you\nmight easily call him the leader of the Roman people, rather than one of\ntheir number. But you were there, and you have copies of his speech.\nThus the law was rejected by vote of the people. But, to return to\nmyself, you remember, when Quintus Maximus, Scipio's brother, and Lucius\nMancinus were Consuls, how much the people seemed to favor the law of\nCaius Licinius Crassus about the priests. The law proposed to transfer\nthe election of priests from their own respective colleges to the\nsuffrage of the people; [Footnote: The several pontifical colleges had\nbeen close corporations, filling their own vacancies. The law which\nLaelius defeated proposed transferring the election of priests to the\npeople.] and he on that occasion introduced the custom of facing the\npeople in addressing them [Footnote: It had been customary, when the\nSenate was in session, for him who harangued the people to face the\ntemple where the Senate sat, thus virtually recognizing the supreme\nauthority of that body.] Yet under my advocacy the religion of the\nimmortal gods obtained the ascendancy over his plausible speech. That\nwas during my praetorship, five years before I was chosen Consul. Thus\nthe cause was gained by its own merits rather than by official\nauthority.\n\n26. But if on the stage, or--what is the same thing--in the assembly of\nthe people, in which there is ample scope for false and distorted\nrepresentations, the truth only needs to be made plain and clear in\norder for it to prevail, what ought to be the case in friendship, which\nis entirely dependent for its value on truth,--in which unless, as the\nphrase is, you see an open bosom and show your own, you can have nothing\nworthy of confidence, nothing of which you can feel certain, not even\nthe fact of your loving or being loved, since you are ignorant of what\neither really is? Yet this flattery of which I have spoken, harmful as\nit is, can injure only him who takes it in and is delighted with it.\nThus it is the case that he is most ready to open his ear to flattery,\nwho flatters himself and finds supreme delight in himself. Virtue indeed\nloves itself; for it has thorough knowledge of itself, and understands\nhow worthy of love it is. But it is reputed, not real, virtue of which I\nam now speaking; for there are not so many possessed of virtue as there\nare that desire to seem virtuous. These last are delighted with\nflattery, and when false statements are framed purposely to satisfy and\nplease them, they take the falsehood as valid testimony to their merit.\nThat, however, is no friendship, in which one of the (so-called) friends\ndoes not want to hear the truth, and the other is ready to lie. The\nflattery of parasites on the stage would not seem amusing, were there\nnot in the play braggart soldiers [Footnote: Latin, _milites gloriosi.\nMiles Gloriosus_ is the title of one of the comedies of Plautus; and one\nof the stock characters of the ancient comedy is a conceited,\nswaggering, brainless soldier, who is perpetually boasting of his own\nvalor and exploits, and who takes the most fulsome and ridiculous\nflattery as the due recognition of his transcendent merit. The verse\nhere quoted is from Terence's _Eunuchus_. Thraso, a _miles gloriosus_\n(from whom is derived our adjective _thrasonical_), asks this question\nof Gnatho, the parasite, one of whose speeches is quoted in \u00a7 25.\n_Magnus_ is the word in the question; _ingentes_, in the answer.] to be\nflattered.\n\n\n\"Great thanks indeed did Thais render to me?\"\n\n\"Great\" was a sufficient answer; but the answer in the play is\n\"Prodigious.\" The flatterer always magnifies what he whom he is aiming\nto please wishes to have great. But while this smooth falsehood takes\neffect only with those who themselves attract and invite it; even\npersons of a more substantial and solid character need to be warned to\nbe on their guard, lest they be ensnared by flattery of a more cunning\ntype. No one who has a moderate share of common-sense fails to detect\nthe open flatterer; but great care must be taken lest the wily and\ncovert flatterer may insinuate himself; for he is not very easily\nrecognized, since he often assents by opposing, plays the game of\ndisputing in a smooth, caressing way, and at length submits, and suffers\nhimself to be outreasoned, so as to make him on whom he is practising\nhis arts appear to have had the deeper insight. But what is more\ndisgraceful than to be made game of? One must take heed not to put\nhimself in the condition of the character in the play of _The Heiress:_\n[Footnote: _Epicleros_, a comedy by Caecilius Statius, of whose works\nonly a few fragments, like this, are extant. Next to the braggart\nsoldier, a credulous old man-generally a father-who could have all\nmanner of tricks played upon him without detecting their import, was the\nfavorite butt for ridicule in the ancient comedy.]\n\n\n\"Of an old fool one never made such sport As you have made of me this\nvery day;\"\n\n\nfor there is no character on the stage so foolish as that of these\nunwary and credulous old men. But I know not how my discourse has\ndigressed from the friendships of perfect, that is, of wise men,--wise,\nI mean, so far as wisdom can fall to the lot of man,--to friendships of\na lighter sort. Let us then return to our original subject, and bring it\nto a speedy conclusion.\n\n\n27. Virtue, I say to you, Caius Fannius, and to you, Quintus\nMucius,--virtue both forms and preserves friendships. In it is mutual\nagreement; in it is stability; in it is consistency of conduct and\ncharacter. When it has put itself forth and shown its light, and has\nseen and recognized the same light in another, it draws near to that\nlight, and receives in return what the other has to give; and from this\nintercourse love, or friendship,--call it which you may,--is kindled.\nThese terms are equally derived in our language from loving; [Footnote:\n_Amor_..._amicitia_..._ab amando_.] and to love is nothing else than to\ncherish affection for him whom you love, with no felt need of his\nservice, with no quest of benefit to be obtained from him; while,\nnevertheless, serviceableness blooms out from friendship, however little\nyou may have had it in view. With this affection I in my youth loved\nthose old men,--Lucius Paulus, Marcus Cato, Caius Gallus, Publius\nNasica, Tiberius Gracchus, the father-in-law of my friend Scipio. This\nrelation is more conspicuous among those of the same age, as between\nmyself and Scipio, Lucius Furius, Publius Rupilius, Spurius Mummius. But\nin my turn, as an old man, I find repose in the attachment of young men,\nas in yours, and in that of Quintus Tubero, and I am delighted with the\nintimacy of Publius Rutilius and Aulus Virginius, who are just emerging\nfrom boyhood. While the order of human life and of nature is such that\nanother generation must come upon the stage, it would be most desirable,\ncould such a thing be, to reach the goal, so to speak, with those of our\nown age with whom we started on the race; but since man's life is frail\nand precarious, we ought always to be in quest of some younger persons\nwhom we may love, and who will love us in return; for when love and\nkindness cease all enjoyment is taken out of life.\n\nFor me indeed, Scipio, though suddenly snatched away, still lives and\nwill always live; for I loved the virtue of the man, which is not\nextinguished. Nor does it float before my eyes only, as I have always\nhad it at hand; it will also be renowned and illustrious with\ngenerations to come. No one will ever enter with courage and hope on a\nhigh and noble career, without proposing to himself as a standard the\nmemory and image of his virtue. Indeed, of all things which fortune or\nnature ever gave me, I have nothing that I can compare with the\nfriendship of Scipio. In this there was a common feeling as to the\naffairs of the State; in this, mutual counsel as to our private\nconcerns; in this, too, a repose full of delight. Never, so far as I\nknow, did I offend him in the least thing; never did I hear from him a\nword which I would not wish to hear. We had one home; [Footnote: This\nmay refer to their living together on their campaigns, journeys, and\nrural sojourns; but more probably to the fact that each felt as much at\nhome in the other's house as in his own.] the same diet, and that\nsimple; [Footnote: Latin, _communis_. I do not find that this word has\nin Latin the sense of _cheap_ and _mean_ which our word _common_ has.\nBut here it cannot mean that Laelius and Scipio fed together, which is\nsufficiently said in the preceding _idem victus_. It must therefore\ndenote such fare as was common to them with their fellow-citizens in\ngeneral, and that is simple and not luxurious fare.] we were together,\nnot only in military service, but also in journeying and in our rural\nsojourns. And what shall I say of our unflagging zeal in the pursuit of\nknowledge, and in learning everything now within our reach,--an\nemployment in which, when not under the eyes of the public, we passed\nall our leisure time together? Had the recollection and remembrance of\nthese things died with him, I could not anyhow bear the loss of a man,\nthus bound to me in the closest intimacy and holding me in the dearest\nlove. But they are not blotted out, they are rather nourished and\nincreased by reflection and memory; and were I entirely bereft of them,\nmy advanced age would still be my great comfort, for I can miss his\nsociety but for a brief season, and all sorrows, however heavy, if they\ncan last but a little while, ought to be endured.\n\nI had these things to say to you about friendship; and I exhort you that\nyou so give the foremost place to virtue without which friendship cannot\nbe, that with the sole exception of virtue, you may think nothing to be\npreferred to friendship.\n\n\nSCIPIO'S DREAM.\n\n\n1. When I arrived in Africa, to serve, as you know, in the office of\nmilitary Tribune of the fourth Legion, under Manius [Footnote: The\npraenomen _Marcus_ is given to Manilius in the manuscript of the _De\nRepublics_ discovered by Angelo Mai; but Manius is the reading in all\nprevious authorities as to this special fragment.] Manilius as consul, I\ndesired nothing so much as to meet Masinissa [Footnote: King of\nNumidia,--a country nearly identical in extent with the present province\nof Algeria. Its name defines its people, being derived from [Greek:\nnomades], _nomads._ Its inhabitants were a wild, semi-savage cluster of\ntribes, black and white. Masinissa, though faithful to the Romans after\nhe had convinced himself that theirs must be the ascendant star, was a\ncrafty, treacherous, cruel prince, probably with enough of civilization\nto have acquired some of its vices, while he had not lost those of the\nsavage.] the king, who for sufficient reasons [Footnote: The elder\nAfricanus had confirmed him in the possession of his own Numidia, and\nhad added to it the adjoining kingdom of Cirta.] stood in the most\nfriendly relation to our family. When I came to him, the old man\nembraced me with tears, and shortly afterward looked up to heaven and\nsaid: \"I thank thee, sovereign Sun, [Footnote: The Numidians worshipped\nthe heavenly bodies.] and all of you lesser lights of heaven, that\nbefore I pass away from this life I behold in my kingdom and beneath\nthis roof Publius Cornelius Scipio, whose very name renews my strength,\nso utterly inseparable from my thought is the memory of that best and\nmost invincible of men who first bore it.\" Then I questioned him about\nhis kingdom, and he asked me about our republic; and with the many\nthings that we had to communicate to each other, the day wore away.\n\nAt a later hour, after an entertainment of royal magnificence, we\nprolonged our conversation far into the night, while the old man talked\nto me about nothing else but Africanus, rehearsing not only all that he\nhad done, but all that he had said. When we parted to go to our rest,\nsleep took a stronger hold on me than usual, on account both of the\nfatigue of my journey and of the lateness of the hour. In my sleep, I\nsuppose in consequence of our conversation (for generally our thoughts\nand utterances by day have in our sleep an effect like that which Ennius\ndescribes in his own case as to Homer, [Footnote: The first verse of the\n_Annales_ of Ennius was:--\n\n\"In somnis mihi visus Homerus adesse poeta.\"]\n\nabout whom in his waking hours he was perpetually thinking and talking),\nAfricanus appeared to me, with an aspect that reminded me more of his\nbust than of his real face. I shuddered when I saw him. But he said:\n\"Preserve your presence of mind, Scipio; be not afraid, and commit to\nmemory what I shall say to you.\n\n2. \"Do you see that city, which was brought through me into subjection\nto the Roman people, but now renews its old hostility, and cannot remain\nquiet,\"--and he showed me Carthage from a high place full of stars,\nshining and splendid,--\"against which you, being little more than a\ncommon soldier, are coming to fight? In two years from now you as Consul\nwill overthrow this city, and you will obtain of your own right the\nsurname which up to this time you hold as inherited from me. When you\nshall have destroyed Carthage, shall have celebrated your triumph over\nit, shall have been Censor, and shall have traversed, as an ambassador,\nEgypt, Syria, Asia, and Greece, you will be chosen a second time Consul\nin your absence, and will put an end to one of the greatest of wars by\nextirpating Numantia. But when you shall be borne to the Capitol in your\ntriumphal chariot after this war, you will find the State disturbed by\nthe machinations of my grandson. [Footnote: Tiberius Gracchus, whose\nmother, Cornelia, was the daughter of the elder Africanus.]\n\n\"In this emergency, Africanus, it will behoove you to show your country\nthe light of your energy, genius, and wisdom. But I see at that time, as\nit were, a double way of destiny. For when your age shall have followed\nthe sun for eight times seven revolutions, and these two numbers\n[Footnote: The Pythagoreans regarded seven as the number representing\nlight, and eight as representing love. Seven was also a perfect number,\nas corresponding to the number of celestial orbits (including the sun,\nthe moon, and the five known planets), the number of days in the quarter\nof the moon's revolution, and the number of the gates of sense (so to\nspeak), mouth, eyes, ears, and nostrils. Eight was a perfect number, as\nbeing first after unity on the list of cubes; and Plato in the _Timaeus_\nspeaks of eight celestial revolutions--including that of the earth--as\nunequal in duration and velocity, but as forming, in some unexplained\nway, a cycle synchronous with the year.]--each perfect, though for\ndifferent reasons--shall have completed for you in the course of nature\nthe destined period, to you alone and to your name the whole city will\nturn; on you the Senate will look, on you all good citizens, on you the\nallies, on you the Latini. You will be the one man on whom the safety of\nthe city will rest; and, to say no more, you, as Dictator, must\nre-establish the State, if you escape the impious hands of your kindred.\"\n[Footnote: See _De Amicitia_ \u00a7 3, note.] Here, when Laelius had cried\nout, and the rest of the company had breathed deep sighs, Scipio,\nsmiling pleasantly upon them, said, \"I beg you not to rouse me from\nsleep and break up my vision. Hear the remainder of it.\"\n\n3. \"But that you, Africanus, may be the more prompt in the defence of\nthe State, know that for all who shall have preserved, succored,\nenlarged their country, there is a certain and determined place in\nheaven where they enjoy eternal happiness; for to the Supreme God who\ngoverns this whole universe nothing is more pleasing than those\ncompanies and unions of men that are called cities. Of these the rulers\nand preservers, going hence, return hither.\"\n\nHere I, although I had been alarmed, not indeed so much by the fear of\ndeath as by that of the treachery of my own kindred, yet asked whether\nPaulus, my father, and others whom we supposed to be dead were living.\n\"Yes, indeed,\" he replied, \"those who have fled from the bonds of the\nbody, like runners from the goal, live; while what is called your life\nis death. But do you see your father Paulus coming to you?\" When I saw\nhim, I shed a flood of tears; but he, embracing and kissing me, forbade\nmy weeping.\n\nThen as soon as my tears would suffer me to speak, I began by saying,\n\"Most sacred and excellent father, since this is life, as Africanus\ntells me, why do I remain on the earth, and not rather hasten to come to\nyou?\" \"Not so,\" said he; \"for unless the God who has for his temple all\nthat you now behold, shall have freed you from this prison of the body,\nthere can be no entrance for you hither. Men have indeed been brought\ninto being on this condition, that they should guard the globe which you\nsee in the midst of this temple, which is called the earth; and a soul\nhas been given to them from those eternal fires which you call\nconstellations and stars, which, globed and round, animated with\ngod-derived minds, complete their courses and move through their orbits\nwith amazing speed. You, therefore, Publius, and all rightly disposed men\nare bound to retain the soul in the body's keeping, nor without the\ncommand of him who gave it to you to depart from the life appointed for\nman, lest you may seem to have taken flight from human duty as assigned\nby God. But, Scipio, like this your grandfather, [Footnote: By adoption.\nThe younger Africanus was adopted by a son of the elder.] like me, your\nfather, cherish justice and that sacred observance of duty to your kind,\nwhich, while of great worth toward parents and family, is of supreme\nvalue toward your country. Such a life is the way to heaven, and to this\nassembly of those who have already lived, and, released from the body,\ninhabit the place which you now see,\"--it was that circle that shines\nforth among the stars in the most dazzling white,--\"which you have\nlearned from the Greeks to call the Milky Way.\" And as I looked on every\nside I saw other things transcendently glorious and wonderful. There\nwere stars which we never see from here below, and all the stars were\nvast far beyond what we have ever imagined. The least of them was that\nwhich, farthest from heaven, nearest to the earth, shone with a borrowed\nlight. But the starry globes very far surpassed the earth in magnitude.\nThe earth itself indeed looked to me so small as to make me ashamed of\nour empire, which was a mere point on its surface.\n\n4. While I was gazing more intently on the earth, Africanus said: \"How\nlong, I pray you, will your mind be fastened on the ground? Do you not\nsee into the midst of what temples you have come? In your sight are nine\norbs, or rather globes, by which all things are held together. One is\nthe celestial, the outermost, embracing all the rest,--the Supreme God\nhimself, [Footnote: Here crops out the Pantheism--the non-detachment or\nsemi-detachment of God from nature--which casts a penumbra around\nmonotheism and the approaches to it, almost always, except under Hebrew\nand Christian auspices.] who governs and keeps in their places the other\nspheres. In this are fixed those stars which ever roll in an unchanging\ncourse. Beneath this are seven spheres which have a retrograde movement,\nopposite to that of the heavens. One of these is the domain of the star\nwhich on earth they call Saturn. Next is the luminary which bears the\nname of Jupiter, of prosperous and healthful omen to the human race;\nthen, the star of fiery red which you call Mars, and which men regard\nwith terror. Beneath, the Sun holds nearly the midway space, [Footnote:\nThe middle, as the fifth of the nine spheres, enclosed by four; and\nenclosing four.] leader, prince, and ruler of the other lights, the mind\nand regulating power of the universe, so vast as to illuminate and flood\nall things with his light. Him, as his companions, Venus and Mercury\nfollow on their different courses; and in a sphere still lower the moon\nrevolves, lighted by the rays of the sun. Beneath this there is nothing\nthat is not mortal and perishable, except the souls bestowed upon the\nhuman race by the gift of the gods. Above the moon all things are\neternal. The earth, which is the central and ninth sphere, has no\nmotion, and is the lowest [Footnote: The lowest because central, and\ntherefore farthest from the outermost or celestial sphere.] of all, and\nall heavy bodies gravitate spontaneously toward it.\"\n\n5. When I had recovered from my amazement at these things I asked, \"What\nis this sound so strong and so sweet that fills my ears?\" \"This,\" he\nreplied, \"is the melody which, at intervals unequal, yet differing in\nexact proportions, is made by the impulse and motion of the spheres\nthemselves, which, softening shriller by deeper tones, produce a\ndiversity of regular harmonies. Nor can such vast movements be urged on\nin silence; and by the order of nature the shriller notes sound from one\nextreme of the universe, the deeper from the other. Thus yonder supreme\ncelestial sphere with its clustered stars, as it revolves more rapidly,\nmoves with a shrill and quick strain; this lower sphere of the moon\nsends forth deeper notes; while the earth, the ninth sphere, remaining\nmotionless, [Footnote: Therefore without sound.] always stands fixed in\nthe lowest place, occupying the centre of the universe. But these eight\nrevolutions, of which two, those of Mercury and Venus, are in unison,\nmake seven distinct tones, with measured intervals between, and almost\nall things are arranged in sevens. [Footnote: Latin, _qui numerus_ (that\nis, _septem_) _rerum omnium fere nodus est_. Literally, \"which number is\nthe knot of almost everything.\" The more intelligible form in which I\nhave rendered these words seems to me to convey their true meaning, and\nmy belief to that effect is confirmed by reading what several\ncommentators say about the passage.] Skilled men, copying this harmony\nwith strings and voice, have opened for themselves a way back to this\nplace, as have others who with excelling genius have cultivated divine\nsciences in human life. But the ears of men are deafened by being filled\nwith this melody; nor is there in you mortals a duller sense than that\nof hearing. As where the Nile at the Falls of Catadupa pours down from\nthe loftiest mountains, the people who live hard by lack the sense of\nhearing because of the loudness of the cataract, so this harmony of the\nwhole universe in its intensely rapid movement is so loud that men's\nears cannot take it in, even as you cannot look directly at the sun, and\nthe keenness and visual power of the eye are overwhelmed by its rays.\"\nWhile I marvelled at these things, I ever and anon cast my eyes again\nupon the earth.\n\n6. Then Africanus said: \"I perceive that you are now fixing your eyes on\nthe abode and home of men, and if it seems to you small, as it really\nis, then look always at these heavenly things, and despise those\nearthly. For what reputation from the speech of men, or what fame worth\nseeking, can you obtain? You see that the inhabited places of the earth\nare scattered and of small extent, that in the spots [Footnote: Latin,\n_maculis_,--a figure so bold in Cicero's time as to need an apology for\nits use, but now employed with no consciousness of its being otherwise\nthan strictly literal.]--so to speak--where men dwell there are vast\nsolitary tracts interposed, and that those who live on the earth are not\nonly so separated that no communication can pass from place to place,\nbut stand, in part at an oblique angle, in part at a right angle with\nyou, in part even in an opposite direction; [Footnote: It hardly needs\nto be said, that the reference here is to the convex surface of the\nearth, on which those remote from one another may hold all the various\nangles to each other that are borne by the spokes of a wheel.] and from\nthese you certainly can anticipate no fame.\n\n\"You perceive also that this same earth is girded and surrounded by\nbelts, two of which--the farthest from each other, and each resting at\none extremity on the very pole of the heavens--you see entirely\nfrost-bound; while the middle and largest of them burns under the sun's\nintensest heat. Two of them are habitable, of which the southern, whose\ninhabitants are your antipodes, bears no relation to your people; and\nsee how small a part they occupy in this other northern zone, in which\nyou dwell. For all of the earth with which you have any concern--narrow\nat the north and south, broader in its central portion--is a mere little\nisland, surrounded by that sea which you on earth call the Atlantic, the\nGreat Sea, the Ocean, while yet, with such a name, you see how small it\nis. To speak only of these cultivated and well-known regions, could your\nname even cross this Caucasus which you have in view, or swim beyond\nthat Ganges? Who, in what other lands may lie in the extreme east or\nwest, or under northern or southern skies, will ever hear your name? All\nthese cut off, you surely see within what narrow bounds your fame can\nseek to spread. Then, too, as regards the very persons who tell of your\nrenown, how long will they speak of it?\n\n7. \"But even if successive generations should desire to transmit the\npraise of every one of us from father to son in unbroken succession, yet\nbecause of devastations by flood and fire, which will of necessity take\nplace at a determined time, we must fail of attaining not only eternal\nfame, but even that of very long duration. Now of what concern is it\nthat those who shall be born hereafter should speak of you, when you\nwere spoken of by none who were born before you, who were not fewer, and\ncertainly were better men?--especially, too, when among those who might\nhear our names there is not one that can retain the memories of a single\nyear. Men, indeed, ordinarily measure the year only by the return of the\nsun, that is, one star, to its place; but when all the stars, after long\nintervals, shall resume their original places in the heavens, then that\ncompleted revolution may be truly called a year. As of old the sun\nseemed to be eclipsed and blotted out when the soul of Romulus entered\nthese temples, so when the sun shall be again eclipsed in the same part\nof his course, and at the same period of the year and day, with all the\nconstellations and stars recalled to the point from which they started\non their revolutions, then count the year as brought to a close.\n[Footnote: The Stoics maintained that the visible universe would last\nthrough such a cycle as is here described, which in their conjectural\nastronomy comprehended many thousands of years, and then would be\nconsumed by fire, or somehow be reduced to chaos, and a new universe\ntake its place.] But be assured that the twentieth part of this year has\nnot yet come round.\n\n\"Therefore, should you renounce the hope of returning to this place in\nwhich are all things that great and excellent men can desire, of what\nworth is that human glory which can scarcely extend to a small part of a\nsingle year? If, then, you shall determine to look high up, and to\nbehold continuously this dwelling and eternal home, you will neither\ngive yourself to the flattery of the people, nor place your hope of\nwell-being on rewards that man can bestow. Let Virtue herself by her own\ncharms draw you to true honor. What others may say of you, regard as\ntheir concern, not yours. They will doubtless talk about you, but all\nthat they say is confined within the narrow limits of the regions which\nyou now see; nor did such speech as to any one ever last on into\neternity,--it is buried with those who die, and lost in oblivion for\nthose who may come afterward.\"\n\n8. When he had spoken thus, I said, \"O Africanus, if indeed for those\nwho have deserved well of their country there is, as it were, an open\nroad by which they may enter heaven, though from boyhood treading in my\nfather's steps and yours, I have done no discredit to your fame, I yet\nshall now strive to that end with a more watchful diligence.\" And he\nreplied: \"Strive [Footnote: Or, you will strive indeed.] indeed, and\nbear this in mind, that it is not you that are mortal, but your body\nonly. Nor is it you whom this outward form makes manifest; but every\nman's mind is he,--not the bodily shape which can be pointed at by the\nfinger. Know also that you are a god, if he indeed is a god who lives,\nwho perceives, who remembers, who foresees, who governs and restrains\nand moves the body over which he is made ruler even as the Supreme God\nholds the universe under his sway; and in truth as the eternal God\nhimself moves the universe which is mortal in every part, so does the\neverlasting soul move the corruptible body.\n\n\"That, indeed, which is in perpetual movement is eternal; but that\nwhich, while imparting motion to some other substance, derives its own\nmovement from some other source, must of necessity cease to live when it\nceases to move. Then that alone which is the cause of its own motion,\nbecause it is never deserted by itself, never has its movement\nsuspended. But for other substances that are moved this is the source,\nthe first cause, [Footnote: Latin, _principium_.] of movement. But the\nfirst cause has no origin; for all things spring from the first cause:\nitself, from nothing. That indeed would not be a first cause which\nderived its beginning from anything else; and if it has no beginning, it\nnever ceases to be. For the first cause, if extinct, will neither itself\nbe born again from aught else, nor will it create aught else from\nitself, if indeed all things must of necessity originate from the first\ncause. Thus it is that the first cause of motion is derived from that\nwhich is in its nature self-moving; but this can neither be born nor\ndie. Were it to die, the whole heaven would of necessity collapse, and\nall nature would stand still, nor could it find any force which could be\nset in movement anew from a primitive impulse. [Footnote: From a first\ncause; the first cause, by hypothesis, having ceased to be.]\n\n9. \"Since, then, that which is the source of its own movement is\nmanifestly eternal, who is there that can deny that this nature has been\ngiven to the soul? For whatever is moved by external impulse is\nsoulless; [Footnote: Latin, _inanimum._] but whatever has a soul\n[Footnote: Latin, _animal._ My renderings of _inanimum_ and _animal_\nhere, if not justified by any parallel instances (and I know not whether\nthey are), are required by the obvious meaning of the sentence.] is\nstirred to action by movement inward and its own; for this is the\npeculiar nature and virtue of the soul. Moreover, if it is this alone of\nall things that is the source of its own movement, it certainly did not\nbegin to be, and is eternal. \"This soul I bid you to exercise in the\nbest pursuits, and the best are your cares for your country's safety, by\nwhich if your soul be kept in constant action and exercise, it will have\nthe more rapid flight to this its abode and home. This end it will\nattain the more readily, if, while it shall be shut up in the body, it\nshall peer forth, and, contemplating those things that are beyond,\nabstract itself as far as possible from the body. For the souls of those\nwho have surrendered themselves to the pleasures of the body, have\nyielded themselves to their service, and, obeying them under the impulse\nof sensual lusts, have transgressed the laws of gods and men, when they\npass out of their bodies are tossed to and fro around the earth, nor\nreturn to this place till they have wandered in banishment for many\nages.\"\n\nHe departed; I awoke from sleep.","title":"De Amicitia, Scipio's Dream","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":27398}