Part 25 (1/2)
XXVI. Do we not observe, that where those exercises called gymnastic are in esteem, those who enter the lists never concern themselves about dangers: that where the praise of riding and hunting is highly esteemed, they who practise these arts decline no pain. What shall I say of our own ambitious pursuits, or desire of honours? What fire have not candidates run through to gain a single vote? Therefore Africa.n.u.s had always in his hands Xenophon, the pupil of Socrates, being particularly pleased with his saying, that the same labours were not equally heavy to the general and to the common man, because the honour itself made the labour lighter to the general. But yet, so it happens, that even with the illiterate vulgar, an idea of honour is of great influence, though they cannot understand what it is. They are led by report and common opinion to look on that as honourable, which has the general voice. Not that I would have you, should the mult.i.tude be ever so fond of you, rely on their judgment, nor approve of everything which they think right; you must use your own judgment. If you are satisfied with yourself when you have approved of what is right, you will not only have the mastery over yourself, (which I recommend to you just now,) but over everybody, and everything. Lay this down, then, as a rule, that a great capacity, and lofty elevation of soul, which distinguishes itself most by despising and looking down with contempt on pain, is the most excellent of all things, and the more so, if it does not depend on the people, and does not aim at applause, but derives its satisfaction from itself. Besides, to me indeed everything seems the more commendable the less the people are courted, and the fewer eyes there are to see it. Not that you should avoid the public, for every generous action loves the public view; yet no theatre for virtue is equal to a consciousness of it.
XXVII. And let this be princ.i.p.ally considered, that this bearing of pain, which I have often said is to be strengthened by an exertion of the soul, should be the same in everything. For you meet with many who, through a desire of victory, or for glory, or to maintain their rights, or their liberty, have boldly received wounds, and borne themselves up under them; and yet those very same persons, by relaxing that intenseness of their minds, were unequal to bearing the pain of a disease. For they did not support themselves under their former sufferings by reason or philosophy, but by inclination and glory. Therefore some barbarians and savage people are able to fight very stoutly with the sword, but cannot bear sickness like men: but the Grecians, men of no great courage, but as wise as human nature will admit of, cannot look an enemy in the face, yet the same will bear to be visited with sickness tolerably, and with a sufficiently manly spirit; and the Cimbrians and Celtiberians are very alert in battle, but bemoan themselves in sickness; for nothing can be consistent which has not reason for its foundation. But when you see those who are led by inclination or opinion, not r.e.t.a.r.ded by pain in their pursuits, nor hindered by it from succeeding in them, you may conclude, either that pain is no evil, or that, notwithstanding you may choose to call an evil whatever is disagreeable and contrary to nature, yet it is so very trifling an evil, that it may so effectually be got the better of by virtue as quite to disappear. And I would have you think of this night and day; for this argument will spread itself, and take up more room sometime or other, and not be confined to pain alone; for if the motives to all our actions are to avoid disgrace and acquire honour, we may not only despise the stings of pain, but the storms of fortune, especially if we have recourse to that retreat which was pointed out in our yesterday's discussion: for as, if some G.o.d had advised a man who was pursued by pirates to throw himself overboard, saying, There is something at hand to receive you; either a dolphin will take you up, as it did Arion of Methymna; or those horses sent by Neptune to Pelops (who are said to have carried chariots so rapidly as to be borne up by the waves) will receive you, and convey you wherever you please; cast away all fear: so, though your pains be ever so sharp and disagreeable, if the case is not such that it is worth your while to endure them, you see whither you may betake yourself. I think this will do for the present. But perhaps you still abide by your opinion.
_A._ Not in the least, indeed; and I hope I am freed by these two days'
discourses from the fear of two things that I greatly dreaded.
_M._ To-morrow then for rhetoric, as we were saying; but I see we must not drop our philosophy.
_A._ No, indeed, we will have the one in the forenoon, and this at the usual time.
_M._ It shall be so, and I will comply with your very laudable inclinations.
Book III. On Grief Of Mind.
I. What reason shall I a.s.sign, O Brutus, why, as we consist of mind and body, the art of curing and preserving the body should be so much sought after, and the invention of it, as being so useful, should be ascribed to the immortal G.o.ds; but the medicine of the mind should not have been so much the object of inquiry, whilst it was unknown, nor so much attended to and cultivated after its discovery, nor so well received or approved of by some, and accounted actually disagreeable, and looked upon with an envious eye by many? Is it because we, by means of the mind, judge of the pains and disorders of the body, but do not, by means of the body, arrive at any perception of the disorders of the mind? Hence it comes that the mind only judges of itself, when that very faculty by which it is judged is in a bad state. Had nature given us faculties for discerning and viewing herself, and could we go through life by keeping our eye on her-our best guide-there would be no reason certainly why any one should be in want of philosophy or learning: but, as it is, she has furnished us only with some feeble rays of light, which we immediately extinguish so completely by evil habits and erroneous opinions, that the light of nature is nowhere visible. The seeds of virtues are natural to our const.i.tutions, and, were they suffered to come to maturity, would naturally conduct us to a happy life; but now, as soon as we are born and received into the world, we are instantly familiarized with all kinds of depravity and perversity of opinions; so that we may be said almost to suck in error with our nurse's milk. When we return to our parents, and are put into the hands of tutors and governors, we are imbued with so many errors, that truth gives place to falsehood, and nature herself to established opinion.
II. To these we may add the poets; who, on account of the appearance they exhibit of learning and wisdom, are heard, read, and got by heart, and make a deep impression on our minds. But when to these are added the people, who are as it were one great body of instructors, and the mult.i.tude, who declare unanimously for what is wrong, then are we altogether overwhelmed with bad opinions, and revolt entirely from nature; so that they seem to deprive us of our best guide, who have decided that there is nothing better for man, nothing more worthy of being desired by him, nothing more excellent than honours and commands, and a high reputation with the people; which indeed every excellent man aims at; but whilst he pursues that only true honour, which nature has in view above all other objects, he finds himself busied in arrant trifles, and in pursuit of no conspicuous form of virtue, but only some shadowy representation of glory. For glory is a real and express substance, not a mere shadow. It consists in the united praise of good men, the free voice of those who form a true judgment of preeminent virtue; it is, as it were, the very echo of virtue; and being generally the attendant on laudable actions, should not be slighted by good men. But popular fame, which would pretend to imitate it, is hasty and inconsiderate, and generally commends wicked and immoral actions, and throws discredit upon the appearance and beauty of honesty, by a.s.suming a resemblance of it. And it is owing to their not being able to discover the difference between them that some men, ignorant of real excellence, and in what it consists, have been the destruction of their country and of themselves. And thus the best men have erred, not so much in their intentions, as by a mistaken conduct. What, is no cure to be attempted to be applied to those who are carried away by the love of money, or the l.u.s.t of pleasures, by which they are rendered little short of madmen, which is the case of all weak people? or is it because the disorders of the mind are less dangerous than those of the body? or because the body will admit of a cure, while there is no medicine whatever for the mind?
III. But there are more disorders of the mind than of the body, and they are of a more dangerous nature; for these very disorders are the more offensive, because they belong to the mind, and disturb it; and the mind, when disordered, is, as Ennius says, in a constant error; it can neither bear nor endure anything, and is under the perpetual influence of desires.
Now, what disorders can be worse to the body than these two distempers of the mind (for I overlook others), weakness and desire? But how, indeed, can it be maintained that the mind cannot prescribe for itself, when she it is who has invented the medicines for the body, when, with regard to bodily cures, const.i.tution and nature have a great share, nor do all, who suffer themselves to be cured, find that effect instantly; but those minds which are disposed to be cured, and submit to the precepts of the wise, may undoubtedly recover a healthy state? Philosophy is certainly the medicine of the soul, whose a.s.sistance we do not seek from abroad, as in bodily disorders, but we ourselves are bound to exert our utmost energy and power in order to effect our cure. But as to philosophy in general, I have, I think, in my ”Hortensius,” sufficiently spoken of the credit and attention which it deserves: since that, indeed, I have been continually either disputing or writing on its most material branches: and I have laid down in these books all the discussions which took place between myself and my particular friends at my Tusculan Villa: but as I have spoken in the two former of pain and death, this book shall be devoted to the account of the third day of our disputations.
We came down into the Academy when the day was already declining towards afternoon, and I asked one of those who were present to propose a subject for us to discourse on; and then the business was carried on in this manner.
IV. _A._ My opinion is, that a wise man is subject to grief.
_M._ What, and to the other perturbations of mind, as fears, l.u.s.ts, anger?
For these are pretty much like what the Greeks call p???. I might call them diseases, and that would be a literal translation, but it is not agreeable to our way of speaking. For envy, delight, and pleasure, are all called by the Greeks diseases, being affections of the mind not in subordination to reason: but we, I think, are right, in calling the same motions of a disturbed soul perturbations, and in very seldom using the term diseases; though, perhaps, it appears otherwise to you.
_A._ I am of your opinion.
_M._ And do you think a wise man subject to these?
_A._ Entirely, I think.
_M._ Then that boasted wisdom is but of small account, if it differs so little from madness?
_A._ What? does every commotion of the mind seem to you to be madness?
_M._ Not to me only; but I apprehend, though I have often been surprised at it, that it appeared so to our ancestors many ages before Socrates: from whom is derived all that philosophy which relates to life and morals.
_A._ How so?
_M._ Because the name madness(84) implies a sickness of the mind and disease, that is to say an unsoundness, and an unhealthiness of mind, which they call madness. But the philosophers call all perturbations of the soul diseases, and their opinion is that no fool is ever free from these: but all that are diseased are unsound; and the minds of all fools are diseased; therefore all fools are mad. For they held that soundness of the mind depends on a certain tranquillity and steadiness; and a mind which was dest.i.tute of these qualities they called insane, because soundness was inconsistent with a perturbed mind just as much as with a disordered body.