but rather thus,
From wickedness to fly, into the deep
Throw thyself, Cyrnus, or from rocks so steep.[195]
What therefore else does he seem to do, but to set down himself those
things and doctrines which, when others write them, he expunges;
condemning, indeed, Plato for showing that not to live is better than
to live viciously and ignorantly; and yet counselling Theognis to let
a man break his neck or throw himself into the sea, that he may avoid
vice? For having praised Antisthenes for directing fools to an halter,
he again blames him, saying that vice has nothing that should oblige us
to depart out of life.
15. Moreover, in his books against the same Plato, concerning Justice,
he immediately at the very beginning leaps into a discourse touching
the Gods, and says, that Cephalus did not rightly avert men from
injustice by the fear of the Gods, and that his doctrine is easily
misrepresented, and that it affords to the contrary many arguments and
probabilities impugning the discourse concerning divine punishments, as
nothing differing from the tales of Acco and Alphito (or Raw-Head and
Bloody-Bones), with which women are wont to frighten little children
from their unlucky pranks. Having thus traduced Plato, he in other
places again praises him, and often alleges this saying of Euripides:
Howe’er you may deride it, there’s a Jove,
With other Gods, who sees men’s woes above.
And likewise, in his First Book of Justice citing these verses of
Hesiod,
Then Jove from heaven punishments did send,
And plague and famine brought them to their end,[196]
he says, the Gods do these things, that the wicked being punished,
others admonished by these examples may less dare to attempt the doing
of such things.
Again, in his book of Justice, subjoining, that it is possible for
those who make pleasure a good but not the end to preserve also
justice, he said in express terms: “For perhaps if we leave this to
pleasure, that it is a good but not the end, and that honesty is one
of those things which are eligible for themselves, we may preserve
justice, making the honest and the just a greater good than pleasure.”
So much he says in this place concerning pleasure. But in his book
against Plato, accusing him for seeming to make health a good, he says,
that not only justice, but also magnanimity, temperance, and all the
other virtues will be taken away, if we make pleasure, health, or any
thing else which is not honest, to be a good. What therefore is to be
said for Plato, we have elsewhere written against him. But here his
contradicting himself is manifest, when he says in one place, that if
a man supposes that with honesty pleasure also is a good, justice is
preserved, and in another, accuses those who make any thing besides
honesty to be a good of taking away all the virtues. But that he may
not leave any means of making an apology for his contradictions,
writing against Aristotle concerning justice, he affirms him not to
have spoken rightly when he said, that pleasure being made the end,
justice is taken away, and together with justice, every one also of
the other virtues. For justice (he says) will indeed be taken away;
but there is nothing to hinder the other virtues from remaining and
being, though not eligible for themselves, yet good and virtues. Then
he reckons up every one of them by name. But it will be better to set
down his own words. “For pleasure,” says he, “appearing according to
this discourse to be made the end, yet all this seems not to me to be
contained in it. Wherefore we must say, that neither any of the virtues
is eligible nor any of the vices to be avoided for itself, but that all
these things are to be referred to the proposed scope. Yet nothing,
according to their opinion, will hinder but that fortitude, prudence,
continence, and patience may be good, and their contraries to be
avoided.” Has there ever then been any man more peevish in his disputes
than he, who has blamed two of the principal philosophers, the one for
taking away all virtue, by not making that only to be good which is
honest, and the other for not thinking all the virtues except justice
to be preserved, though pleasure is made the end? For it is a wonderful
licentiousness that, discoursing of the same matters, he should when
accusing Plato take away again those very things which himself sets
down when reprehending Aristotle. Moreover, in his demonstrations
concerning justice, he says expressly, that every good deed is both
a lawful action and a just operation; but that every thing which is
done according to continence, patience, prudence, or fortitude is a
good deed, and therefore also a just operation. Why then does he not
also leave justice to them to whom he leaves prudence, fortitude, and
continence; since whatever they do well according to the said virtue,
they do also justly?
16. Moreover, Plato having said, that injustice, as being the
corruption and sedition of the soul, loses not its power even in those
who have it within them, but sets the wicked man against himself, and
molests and disturbs him; Chrysippus, blaming this, affirms that it
is absurdly said, “A man injures himself;” for that injustice is to
another, and not to one’s self. But forgetting this, he again says, in
his demonstrations concerning justice, that the unjust man is injured
by himself and injures himself when he injures another, becoming to
himself the cause of transgressing, and undeservedly hurting himself.
In his books indeed against Plato, contending that we cannot speak of
injustice against one’s self, but against another, he has these words:
“For men cannot be unjust by themselves; injustice requires several
on opposite sides, speaking contrary one unto another. But no such
thing extends to one alone, except inasmuch as he is affected towards
his neighbor.” But in his demonstrations he has such discourses as
these, concerning the unjust man’s being injurious also to himself:
“The law forbids the being any way the author of transgression, and
to act unjustly will be transgression. He therefore who is to himself
the author of acting unjustly transgresses against himself. Now he
that transgresses against any one also injures him; therefore he who
is injurious to any one whomsoever is injurious also to himself.”
Again: “Sin is a hurt, and every one who sins sins against himself;
every one therefore who sins hurts himself undeservedly, and if so, is
also unjust to himself.” And farther thus: “He who is hurt by another
hurts himself, and that undeservedly. Now that is to be unjust. Every
one therefore that is injured, by whomsoever it is, is unjust also to
himself.”
17. He says, that the doctrine concerning good and evil which himself
introduces and approves is most agreeable to life, and does most of
all reach the inbred prenotions; for this he has affirmed in his Third
Book of Exhortations. But in his First Book he says, that this doctrine
takes a man off from all other things, as being nothing to us, nor
co-operating any thing towards felicity. See now, how consonant he is
to himself, when he asserts a doctrine which takes us off from life,
health, indolence, and integrity of the senses, and says that those
things we beg of the Gods are nothing to us, though most agreeable to
life and to the common presumptions. But that there may be no denial
of his speaking contradictions, in his Third Book of Justice he has
said thus: “Wherefore also, from the excellence of their greatness and
beauty, we seem to speak things like to fictions, and not according to
man or human nature.” Is it then possible that any one can more plainly
confess his speaking things contrary to himself than this man does, who
affirms those things which (he says) for their excellency seem to be
fictions and to be spoken above man and human nature, to be agreeable
to life, and most of all to reach the inbred prenotions?
18. In every one of his natural and ethical books, he asserts vice to
be the very essence of unhappiness; writing and contending that to live
viciously is the same thing as to live unhappily. But in his Third Book
of Nature, having said that it is profitable for a fool to live rather
than to die, though he is never to become wise, he subjoins: “For such
is the nature of good things among men, that evil things are in some
sort preferred before indifferent ones.” I let pass therefore, that
having elsewhere said that nothing is profitable to fools, he here
says that to live foolishly is profitable to them. Now those things
being by them called indifferent which are neither bad nor good, when
he says that bad things precede them he says nothing else but that
evil things precede those that are not evil, and that to be unhappy
is more profitable than not to be unhappy; and if so, he esteems
not to be unhappy to be more unprofitable—and if more unprofitable,
more hurtful—than to be unhappy. Desiring therefore to mitigate this
absurdity, he adds concerning evils: “But it is not these evils that
are preferred, but reason; with which it is more convenient to live,
though we shall be fools.” First therefore he says that vice and things
participating of vice are evil, and that nothing else is so. Now vice
is something reasonable, or rather depraved reason. For those therefore
who are fools to live with reason, is nothing else but to live with
vice. Thence to live being fools is to live being unhappy. In what
then is this preferred to indifferent things? For he surely will not
say that with regard to happiness unhappiness is to be preferred. But
neither, say they, does Chrysippus altogether think that the remaining
in life is to be reckoned amongst good things, or the going out of
it amongst bad; but both of them amongst indifferent ones, according
to Nature. Wherefore also it sometimes becomes meet for the happy to
make themselves away and again for the unhappy to continue in life.
Now what greater repugnance can there be than this in the choice and
avoiding of things, if it is convenient for those who are in the
highest degree happy to forsake those good things that are present,
for the want of some one indifferent thing? And yet they esteem none
of the indifferent things either desirable or to be avoided; but only
good desirable, and only evil to be avoided. So that it comes to pass,
according to them, that the reasoning about actions regards neither
things desirable nor things refusable; but that aiming at other things,
which they neither shun nor choose, they make life and death dependent
on these.
19. Chrysippus confesses that good things are totally different from
bad; and it must of necessity be so, if these make them with whom
they are present miserable to the very utmost point, and those render
their possessors in the highest degree happy. Now he says, that good
and evil things are sensible, writing thus in his First Book of the
End: “That good and evil things are perceptible by sense, we are by
these reasons forced to say; for not only the passions, with their
species, as sorrow, fear, and such others, are sensible; but we may
also have a sense of theft, adultery, and the like, and generally, of
folly, cowardice, and other vices not a few; and again, not only of
joy, beneficence, and many other dependences on good deeds, but also
of prudence, fortitude, and the other virtues.” Let us pass by the
other absurdities of these things; but that they are repugnant to those
things which are delivered by him concerning “the wise man that knows
nothing of his being so,” who does not confess? For good, when present,
being sensible and having a great difference from evil, is it not most
absurd, that he who is of bad become good should be ignorant of it,
and not perceive virtue when present, but think that vice is still
within him? For either none who has all virtues can be ignorant and
doubt of his having them; or the difference of virtue from vice, of
happiness from misery, and of a most honest life from a most shameful
one, is little and altogether difficult to be discerned, if he who has
exchanged the one for the other does not perceive it.
20. He has written one volume of lives divided into four books; in the
fourth of these he says, that a wise man meddles with no business but
his own, and is employed about his own affairs. His words are these:
“For I am of opinion, that a prudent man shuns affairs, meddles little,
and at the same time minds his own occasions; civil persons being both
minders of their own affairs and meddlers with little else.” He has
said almost the same in his book of Things eligible for Themselves,
in these very words: “For indeed a quiet life seems to have in it a
certain security and freedom from danger, though there are not very
many who can comprehend it.” It is manifest that he does not much
dissent from Epicurus, who takes away Providence that he may leave God
in repose. But the same Chrysippus in his First Book of Lives says,
that a wise man willingly takes upon him a kingdom, making his profit
by it; and if he cannot reign himself, will dwell with a king, and go
to the wars with such a king as was Hydanthyrsus the Scythian or Leucon
the Pontic. But I will here also set down his very discourse, that we
may see whether, as from the treble and the base strings there arises
a symphony in music, so the life of a man who chooses quietness and
meddling with little accords with him who, upon any necessity, rides
along with the Scythians and manages the affairs of the tyrants in the
Bosphorus: “For that a wise man will both go to the wars and live with
potentates, we will again consider this hereafter; some indeed upon the
like arguments not so much as suspecting this, and we for semblable
reasons admitting it.” And a little after: “Not only with those who
have proceeded well, and are become proficients in discipline and good
manners, as with Leucon and Hydanthyrsus.”
Some there are who blame Callisthenes for sailing to Alexander in
hopes to obtain the rebuilding of Olynthus, as Aristotle had procured
that of Stagira; and commend Ephorus, Xenocrates, and Menedemus, who
rejected Alexander’s invitation. But Chrysippus thrusts his wise man
headforwards for the sake of gain, as far as Panticapaeum and the
desert of the Scythians. And that he does this for the sake of profit
and gain, he has showed before, supposing three ways of gaining most
suitable for a wise man,—the first by a kingdom, the second by his
friends, and the third, besides these, by teaching of philosophy. And
yet he frequently even tires us with his praises of this saying:
What need have men of more than these two things?
And in his books of Nature he says, that a wise man, if he has lost
the greatest wealth imaginable, seems to have lost but a single groat.
But having there thus elevated and puffed him up, he again here throws
him down to mercenariness and sophistry; nay, to asking pay and even
to receiving it beforehand, sometimes at the very entrance of his
scholar, and otherwhiles after some time past. The latter, he says
indeed, is the more civil, but to receive beforehand the more sure;
delay being subject to sustain injuries. Now he says thus: “All who
are well advised do not require their salary in the same manner, but
differently; a multitude of them, as opportunity offers, not promising
to make their scholars good men, and that within a year, but to do
this, as far as in them lies, within a time agreed on.” And again going
on, he says: “But he will know his opportunity, whether he ought to
receive his recompense presently at the very entrance (as many have
done), or to give them time, this manner being more liable to injuries,
but withal, seeming the more courteous.” And how is the wise man a
contemner of wealth, who upon a contract delivers virtue for money,
and if he has not delivered it, yet requires his reward, as having
done what is in him? Or how is he above being endamaged, when he is so
cautious lest he be wronged of his recompense? For no man is wronged
who is not endamaged. Therefore, though he has elsewhere asserted that
a wise man cannot be injured, he here says, that this manner of dealing
is liable to injury.
21. In his book of a Commonweal he says, that his citizens will neither
act nor prepare any thing for the sake of pleasure, and praises
Euripides for having uttered this sentence:
What need have men of more than these two things,
The fruits of Ceres, and thirst-quenching springs?
yet a little after this, going on, he commends Diogenes who forced
his nature to pass from himself in public, and said to those that
were present: I wish I could in the same manner drive hunger also
out of my belly. What reason then is there to praise in the same
books him who rejects all pleasure, and withal, him who for the
sake of pleasure does such things, and proceeds to such a degree of
filthiness? Moreover, having in his book of Nature written, that Nature
has produced many creatures for the sake of beauty, delighting in
pulchritude and pleasing herself with variety, and having added a most
absurd expression, that the peacock was made for the sake of his tail
and for the beauty of it; he has, in his treatise of a Commonweal,
sharply reprehended those who bred peacocks and nightingales, as if he
were making laws contrary to the lawgiver of the world, and deriding
Nature for pleasing herself in the beauty of animals to which a wise
man would not give a place in his city. For how can it but be absurd
to blame those who nourish these creatures, if he commends Providence
which created them? In his Fifth Book of Nature, having said, that
bugs profitably awaken us out of our sleep, that mice make us cautious
not to lay up every thing negligently, and that it is probable that
Nature, rejoicing in variety, takes delight in the production of fair
creatures, he adds these words: “The evidence of this is chiefly shown
in the peacock’s tail; for here she manifests that this animal was made
for the sake of his tail, and not the contrary; so, the male being
made, the female follows.” In his book of a Commonweal, having said
that we are ready to paint even dunghills, a little after he adds,
that some beautify their cornfields with vines climbing up trees, and
myrtles set in rows, and keep peacocks, doves, and partridges, that
they may hear them cackle and coo, and nightingales. Now I would gladly
ask him, what he thinks of bees and honey? For it was of consequence,
that he who said bugs were created profitably should also say that
bees were created unprofitably. But if he allows these a place in
his city, why does he drive away his citizens from things that are
pleasing and delight the ear? To be brief,—as he would be very absurd
who should blame the guests for eating sweetmeats and other delicacies
and drinking of wine, and at the same time commend him who invited them
and prepared such things for them; so he that praises Providence, which
has afforded fishes, birds, honey, and wine, and at the same time finds
fault with those who reject not these things, nor content themselves
with
The fruits of Ceres and thirst-quenching springs,
which are present and sufficient to nourish us, seems to make no
scruple of speaking things contradictory to himself.
22. Moreover, having said in his book of Exhortations, that the having
carnal commerce with our mothers, daughters, or sisters, the eating
forbidden food, and the going from a woman’s bed or a dead carcass to
the temple, have been without reason blamed, he affirms, that we ought
for these things to have a regard to the brute beasts, and from what
is done by them conclude that none of these is absurd or contrary to
Nature; for that the comparisons of other animals are fitly made for
this purpose, to show that neither their coupling, bringing-forth, nor
dying in the temples pollutes the Divinity. Yet he again in his Fifth
Book of Nature says, that Hesiod rightly forbids the making water into
rivers and fountains, and that we should rather abstain from doing
this against any altar, or statue of the Gods; and that it is not to
be admitted for an argument, that dogs, asses, and young children
do it, who have no discretion or consideration of such things. It
is therefore absurd to say in one place, that the savage example of
irrational animals is fit to be considered, and in another, that it is
unreasonable to allege it.
23. To give a solution to the inclinations, when a man seems to be
necessitated by exterior causes, some philosophers place in the
principal faculty of the soul a certain adventitious motion, which is
chiefly manifested in things differing not at all from one another.
For when, with two things altogether alike and of equal importance,
there is a necessity to choose the one, there being no cause inclining
to either, for that neither of them differs from the other, this
adventitious power of the soul, seizing on its inclination, determines
the doubt. Chrysippus, discoursing against these men, as offering
violence to Nature by devising an effect without a cause, in many
places alleges the die and the balance, and several other things,
which cannot fall or incline either one way or the other without some
cause or difference, either wholly within them or coming to them from
without; for that what is causeless (he says) is wholly insubsistent,
as also what is fortuitous; and in those motions devised by some and
called adventitious, there occur certain obscure causes, which, being
concealed from us, move our inclinations to one side or other. These
are some of those things which are most evidently known to have been
frequently said by him; but what he has said contrary to this, not
lying so exposed to every one’s sight, I will set down in his own
words. For in his book of Judging, having supposed two running for a
wager to have exactly finished their race together, he examines what
is fit for the judge in this case to do. “Whether,” says he, “may the
judge give the palm to which of them he will, because they both happen
to be so familiar to him, that he would in some sort seem to bestow on
them somewhat of his own? Or rather, since the palm is common to both,
may it be, as if lots had been cast, given to either, according to
the inclination he chances to have? I say the inclination he chances
to have, as when two groats, every way else alike, being presented to
us, we incline to one of them and take it.” And in his Sixth Book of
Duties, having said that there are some things not worthy of much study
or attention, he thinks we ought, as if we had cast lots, to commit the
choice of those things to the casual inclination of the mind: “As if,”
says he, “of those who try the same two groats in a certain time, some
should say this and others that to be good, and there being no more
cause for the taking of one than the other, we should leave off making
any farther enquiry into their value, and take that which chances to
come first to hand; thus casting the lot (as it were) according to some
hidden principle, and being in danger of choosing the worse of them.”
For in these passages, the casting of lots and the casual inclining
of the mind, which is without any cause, introduce the choice of
indifferent things.
24. In his Third Book of Dialectics, having said that Plato, Aristotle,
and those who came after them, even to Polemon and Straton, but
especially Socrates, diligently studied dialectics, and having cried
out that one would even choose to err with such and so great men as
these, he brings in these words: “For if they had spoken of these
things cursorily, one might perhaps have cavilled at this place; but
having treated of dialectic skill as one of the greatest and most
necessary faculties, it is not probable they should have been so much
mistaken, having been such in all the parts of philosophy as we esteem
them.” Why then (might some one say to him) do you never cease to
oppose and argue against such and so great men, as if you thought them
to err in the principal and greatest matters? For it is not probable
that they writ seriously of dialectics, and only transitorily and in
sport of the beginning, end, Gods, and justice, in which you affirm
their discourse to be blind and contradictory to itself, and to have a
thousand other faults.
25. In one place he says, that the vice called Ἐπιχαιρεκακία, or the
rejoicing at other men’s harms, has no being; since no good man ever
rejoiced at another’s evils. But in his Second Book of Good, having
declared envy to be a sorrow at other men’s good,—to wit, in such as
desire the depression of their neighbors that themselves may excel,—he
joins to it this rejoicing at other men’s harms, saying thus: “To
this is contiguous the rejoicing at other men’s harms, in such as for
like causes desire to have their neighbors low; but in those that are
turned according to other natural motions, is engendered mercy.” For
he manifestly admits the joy at other men’s harms to be subsistent, as
well as envy and mercy; though in other places he affirms it to have no
subsistence; as he does also the hatred of wickedness, and the desire
of dishonest gain.
26. Having in many places said, that those who have a long time been
happy are nothing more so, but equally and in like manner with those
who have but a moment been partakers of felicity, he has again in many
other places affirmed, that it is not fit to stretch out so much as
a finger for the obtaining momentary prudence, which flies away like
a flash of lightning. It will be sufficient to set down what is to
this purpose written by him in his Sixth Book of Moral Questions. For
having said, that neither does every good thing equally cause joy, nor
every good deed the like glorying, he subjoins these words: “For if a
man should have wisdom only for a moment of time or the last minute
of life, he ought not so much as to stretch out his finger for such a
short-lived prudence.” And yet men are neither more happy for being
longer so, nor is eternal felicity more eligible than that which lasts
but a moment. If he had indeed held prudence to be a good, producing
felicity, as Epicurus thought, one should have blamed only the
absurdity and the paradoxicalness of this opinion; but since prudence
of itself is not another thing differing from felicity, but felicity
itself, how is it not a contradiction to say, that momentary happiness
is equally desirable with eternal, and yet that momentary happiness is
nothing worth?
27. Chrysippus also says, that the virtues follow one another, and that
not only he who has one has all, but also that he who acts according to
any one of them acts according to them all; and he affirms, that there
is not any man perfect who is not possessed of all the virtues, nor any
action perfect to the doing of which all the virtues do not concur.
But yet in his Sixth Book of Moral Questions he says, that a good man
does not always act valiantly, nor a vicious man always fearfully; for
certain objects being presented to the fancies, the one must persist
in his judgments, and the other depart from them; and he says that it
is not probable a wicked man should be always indulging his lust. If
then to act valiantly is the same thing as to use fortitude; and to act
timorously as to yield to fear, they cannot but speak contradictions
who say, that he who is possessed of either virtue or vice acts at the
same time according to all the virtues or all the vices, and yet that a
valiant man does not always act valiantly nor a vicious man timorously.
28. He defines Rhetoric to be an art concerning the ornament and the
ordering of a discourse that is pronounced. And farther in his First
Book he has written thus: “And I am not only of opinion that a regard
ought to be had to a liberal and simple adorning of words, but also
that care is to be taken for proper delivery, as regards the right
elevation of the voice and the compositions of the countenance and
hands.” Yet he, who is in this place so curious and exact, again in the
same book, speaking of the collision of the vowels, says: “We ought not
only to let these things pass, minding somewhat that is better, but
also to neglect certain obscurities and defects, nay, solecisms also,
of which others, and those not a few, would be ashamed.” Certainly,
in one place to allow those who would speak eloquently so carefully
to dispose their speech as even to observe a decorum in the very
composition of their mouth and hands, and in another place to forbid
the taking care of defects and obscurities, and the being ashamed even
of committing solecisms, is the property of a man who little cares what
he says, but rashly utters whatever comes first into his mouth.
29. Moreover, in his Natural Positions having warned us not to trouble
ourselves but to be at quiet about such things as require experience
and investigation, he says: “Let us not think after the same manner
with Plato, that liquid nourishment is conveyed to the lungs, and dry
to the stomach; nor let us embrace other errors like to these.” Now it
is my opinion, that to reprehend others, and then not to keep one’s
self from falling into those things which one has reprehended, is the
greatest of contradictions and shamefullest of errors. But he says,
that the connections made by ten axioms amount to above a million in
number, having neither searched diligently into it by himself nor
attained to the truth by men experienced in it. Yet Plato had to
testify for him the most renowned of the physicians, Hippocrates,
Philistion, and Dioxippus the disciple of Hippocrates; and of the
poets, Euripides, Alcaeus, Eupolis, and Eratosthenes, who all say
that the drink passes through the lungs. But all the arithmeticians
refel Chrysippus, amongst whom also is Hipparchus, demonstrating that
the error of his computation is very great; since the affirmative
makes of the ten axioms one hundred and three thousand forty and nine
connections, and the negative three hundred and ten thousand nine
hundred fifty and two.
30. Some of the ancients have said, that the same befell Zeno which
befalls him who has sour wine which he can sell neither for vinegar nor
wine; for his “things preferred,” as he called them, cannot be disposed
of, either as good or as indifferent. But Chrysippus has made the
matter yet far more intricate; for he sometimes says, that they are mad
who make no account of riches, health, freedom from pain, and integrity
of the body, nor take any care to attain them; and having cited that
sentence of Hesiod,