All men, brother Gallio, wish to live happily, but are dull at
perceiving exactly what it is that makes life happy: and so far is it
from being easy to attain to happiness that the more eagerly a man
struggles to reach it the further he departs from it, if he takes the
wrong road; for, since this leads in the opposite direction, his very
swiftness carries him all the further away. We must therefore first
define clearly what it is at which we aim: next we must consider by
what path we may most speedily reach it, for on our journey itself,
provided it be made in the right direction, we shall learn how much
progress we have made each day, and how much nearer we are to the goal
toward which our natural desires urge us. But as long as we wander at
random, not following any guide except the shouts and discordant
clamors of those who invite us to proceed in different directions, our
short life will be wasted in useless roamings, even if we labor both
day and night to get a good understanding. Let us not therefore decide
whither we must tend, and by what path, without the advice of some
experienced person who has explored the region which we are about to
enter, because this journey is not subject to the same conditions as
others; for in them some distinctly understood track and inquiries
made of the natives make it impossible for us to go wrong, but here
the most beaten and frequented tracks are those which lead us astray.
Nothing, therefore, is more important than that we should not, like
sheep, follow the flock that has gone before us, and thus proceed not
whither we ought, but whither the rest are going....
True wisdom consists in not departing from nature and in molding our
conduct according to her laws and model. A happy life, therefore, is
one which is in accordance with its own nature, and can not be brought
about unless in the first place the mind be sound and vigorous,
enduring all things with most admirable courage suited to the times in
which it lives, careful of the body and its appurtenances, yet not
troublesomely careful. It must also set due value upon all the things
which adorn our lives, without overestimating any one of them, and
must be able to enjoy the bounty of Fortune without becoming her
slave....
A happy life consists in a mind which is free, upright, undaunted, and
stedfast beyond the influence of fear or desire, which thinks nothing
good except honor, and nothing bad except shame, and regards
everything else as a mass of mean details which can neither add
anything to nor take anything away from the happiness of life, but
which come and go without either increasing or diminishing the highest
good? A man of these principles, whether he will or no, must be
accompanied by a continual cheerfulness, a high happiness, which
comes indeed from on high because he delights in what he has, and
desires no greater pleasures than those which his home affords. Is he
not right in allowing these to turn the scale against petty,
ridiculous, and short-lived movements of his wretched body? on the day
on which he becomes proof against pleasure he also becomes proof
against pain. See, on the other hand, how evil and guilty a slavery a
man is forced to serve who is dominated in turn by pleasures and
pains, those most untrustworthy and passionate of masters. We must,
therefore, escape from them into freedom. This nothing will bestow
upon us save contempt of Fortune; but if we attain to this, then there
will dawn upon us those invaluable blessings, the repose of a mind
that is at rest in a safe haven, its lofty imaginings, its great and
steady delight at casting out errors and learning to know the truth,
its courtesy and its cheerfulness, in all of which we shall take
delight, not regarding them as good things, but as proceeding from the
proper good of man....
Why do you put together two things which are unlike and even
incompatible one with another? virtue is a lofty quality, sublime,
royal, unconquerable, untiring: pleasure is low, slavish, weakly,
perishable; its haunts and homes are the brothel and the tavern. You
will meet virtue in the temple, the market-place, the senate-house,
manning the walls, covered with dust, sunburnt, horny-handed: you will
find pleasure skulking out of sight, seeking for shady nooks at the
public baths, hot chambers, and places which dread the visits of the
aedile, soft, effeminate, reeking of wine and perfumes, pale or
perhaps painted and made up with cosmetics. The highest good is
immortal: it knows no ending, and does not admit of either satiety or
regret: for a right-thinking mind never alters or becomes hateful to
itself, nor do the best things ever undergo any change: but pleasure
dies at the very moment when it charms us most: it has no great scope,
and therefore it soon cloys and wearies us, and fades away as soon as
its first impulse is over: indeed, we can not depend upon anything
whose nature is to change. Consequently, it is not even possible that
there should be any solid substance in that which comes and goes so
swiftly and which perishes by the very exercise of its own functions,
for it arrives at a point at which it ceases to be, and even while it
is beginning always keeps its end in view....
A man should be unbiassed and not to be conquered by external things:
he ought to admire himself alone, to feel confidence in his own
spirit, and so to order his life as to be ready alike for good or bad
fortune. Let not his confidence be without knowledge, nor his
knowledge without stedfastness: let him always abide by what he has
once determined, and let there be no erasure in his doctrine. It will
be understood, even tho I append it not, that such a man will be
tranquil and composed in his demeanor, high-minded and courteous in
his actions. Let reason be encouraged by the senses to seek for the
truth, and draw its first principles from thence: indeed it has no
other base of operations or place from which to start in pursuit of
truth: it must fall back upon itself. Even the all-embracing universe
and God who is its guide extends Himself forth into outward things,
and yet altogether returns from all sides back to Himself. Let our
mind do the same thing: when, following its bodily senses, it has by
means of them sent itself forth into the things of the outward world,
let it remain still their master and its own. By this means we shall
obtain a strength and an ability which are united and allied together;
we shall derive from it that reason which never halts between two
opinions, nor is dull in forming its perceptions, beliefs, or
convictions. Such a mind, when it has ranged itself in order, made its
various parts agree together, and, if I may so express myself,
harmonized them, has attained to the highest good: for it has nothing
evil or hazardous remaining, nothing to shake it or make it stumble:
it will do everything under the guidance of its own will, and nothing
unexpected will befall it, but whatever may be done by it will turn
out well, and that, too, readily and easily, without the doer having
recourse to any underhand devices: for slow and hesitating purpose.
You may, then, boldly declare that the highest good is singleness of
mind: for where agreement and unity are, there must the virtues be: it
is the vices that are at war with one another....
It is the act of the generous spirit to proportion its efforts not to
its own strength, but to that of human nature, to entertain lofty
aims, and to conceive plans which are too vast to be carried into
execution even by those who are endowed with gigantic intellects, who
appoint for themselves the following rules: "I will look upon death or
upon a comedy with the same expression of countenance: I will submit
to labors, however great they may be, supporting the strength of my
body by that of my mind: I will despise riches when I have them as
much as when I have them not; if they be elsewhere I will not be more
gloomy, if they sparkle around me I will not be more lively than I
should otherwise be: whether Fortune comes or goes I will take no
notice of her: I will view all lands as tho they belonged to me, and
my own as tho they belonged to all mankind: I will so live as to
remember that I was born for others, and will thank Nature on this
account: for in what fashion could she have done better for me? she
has given me alone to all, and all to me alone. Whatever I may
possess, I will neither hoard it greedily nor squander it recklessly.
I will think that I have no possessions so real as those which I have
given away to deserving people: I will not reckon benefits by their
magnitude or number, or by anything except the value set upon them by
the receiver: I never will consider a gift to be a large one if it be
bestowed upon a worthy object. I will do nothing because of public
opinion, but everything because of conscience: whenever I do anything
alone by myself I will believe that the eyes of the Roman people are
upon me while I do it. In eating and drinking my object shall be to
quench the desires of Nature, not to fill and empty my belly. I will
be agreeable with my friends, gentle and mild to my foes: I will grant
pardon before I am asked for it, and will meet the wishes of honorable
men half-way. I will bear in mind that, the world is my native city,
that its governors are the gods, and that they stand above and around
me, criticizing whatever I do or say. Whenever either Nature demands
my breath again, or reason bids me dismiss it, I will quit this life,
calling all to witness that I have loved a good conscience, and good
pursuits; that no one's freedom, my own least of all, has been
impaired through me." He who sets up these as the rules of his life
will soar aloft and strive to make his way to the gods: of a truth,
even tho he fails, yet he
"Fails in a high emprise."
But you, who hate both virtue and those who practise it, do nothing at
which we need be surprized, for sickly lights can not bear the sun,
nocturnal creatures avoid the brightness of day, and at its first
dawning become bewildered and all betake themselves to their dens
together: creatures that fear the light hide themselves in crevices.
So croak away, and exercise your miserable tongues in reproaching good
men: open wide your jaws, bite hard: you will break many teeth before
you make any impression....
Where, indeed, can fortune invest riches more securely than in a place
from whence they can always be recovered without any squabble with
their trustee? Marcus Cato, when he was praising Curius and
Coruncanius and that century in which the possession of a few small
silver coins were an offense which was punished by the Censor, himself
owned four million sesterces; a less fortune, no doubt, than that of
Crassus, but larger than of Cato the Censor. If the amounts be
compared, he had outstript his great-grandfather further than he
himself was outdone by Crassus, and if still greater riches had
fallen to his lot, he would not have spurned them, for the wise man
does not think himself unworthy of any chance presents: he does not
love riches, but he prefers to have them; he does not receive them
into his spirit, but only into his house: nor does he cast away from
him what he already possesses, but keeps them, and is willing that his
virtue should receive a larger subject-matter for its exercise....
Cease, then, forbidding philosophers to possess money: no one has
condemned wisdom to poverty. The philosopher may own ample wealth, but
will not own wealth that which has been torn from another, or which is
stained with another's blood: his must be obtained without wronging
any man, and without its being won by base means; it must be alike
honorably come by and honorably spent, and must be such as spite could
alone shake its head at. Raise it to whatever figure you please, it
will still be an honorable possession, if, while it includes much
which every man would like to call his own, there be nothing which any
one can say is his own. Such a man will not forfeit his right to the
favor of Fortune, and will neither boast of his inheritance nor blush
for it if it was honorably acquired; yet he will have something to
boast of, if he throw his house open, let all his countrymen come
among his property, and say, "If any one recognizes here anything
belonging to him, let him take it." What a great man, how excellently
rich will he be, if after this speech he possesses as much as he had
before! I say, then, that if he can safely and confidently submit his
accounts to the scrutiny of the people, and no one can find in them
any item upon which he can lay hands, such a man may boldly and
unconcealedly enjoy his riches. The wise man will not allow a single
ill-won penny to cross his threshold; yet he will not refuse or close
his door against great riches, if they are the gift of fortune and the
product of virtue: what reason has he for grudging them good quarters:
let them come and be his guests: he will neither brag of them nor hide
them away: the one is the part of a silly, the other of a cowardly and
paltry spirit, which, as it were, muffles up a good thing in its lap.
As he is capable of performing a journey upon his own feet, but yet
would prefer to mount a carriage, just so he will be capable of being
poor, yet will wish to be rich; he will own wealth, but will view it
as an uncertain possession which will some day fly away from him. He
will not allow it to be a burden either to himself or to any one else:
he will give it--why do you prick up your ears? why do you open your
pockets?--he will give it either to good men or to those whom it may
make into good men. He will give it after having taken the utmost
pains to choose those who are fittest to receive it, as becomes one
who bears in mind that he ought to give an account of what he spends
as well as of what he receives. He will give for good and commendable
reasons, for a gift ill bestowed counts as a shameful loss: he will
have an easily opened pocket, but not one with a hole in it, so that
much may be taken out of it, yet nothing may fall out of it.