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The Academic Questions, Treatise De Finibus, and Tusculan Disputations, of M.T. Cicero, With a Sketch of the Greek Philosophers Mentioned by · Marcus Tullius Cicero

Introduction.

The following treatise was composed by Cicero a little before the publication of his Tusculan Disputations. It consists of a series of Dialogues, in which the opinions of the different schools of Greek philosophy, especially the Epicureans, Stoics, and Peripatetics, on the Supreme Good, as the proper object or end (_finis_) of our thoughts and actions, are investigated and compared. It is usually reckoned one of the most highly finished and valuable of his philosophical works; though from the abstruse nature of some of the topics dwelt upon, and the subtlety of some of the arguments adduced, it is unquestionably the most difficult. He gives an account himself of the work and of his design and plan in the following terms. (Epist. ad Att. xiii. 19.) “What I have lately written is in the manner of Aristotle, where the conversation is so managed that he himself has the principal part. I have finished the five books De Finibus Bonorum et Malorum, so as to give the Epicurean doctrine to Lucius Torquatus, the Stoic to Marcus Cato, and the Peripatetic to Marcus Cato. For I considered that their being dead would preclude all jealousy.” He does not, however, maintain the unity of scene or character throughout the five books. In the first book he relates a discussion which is represented as having taken place in his villa near Cumæ, in the presence of Caius Valerius Triarius, between himself and Lucius Manlius Torquatus, who is spoken of as being just about to enter his office as prætor, a circumstance which fixes the date of this imaginary discussion to B.C. 50, a time agreeing with the allusion (B. ii. 18,) to the great power of Pompey. In the first book he attacks the doctrines of the Epicurean school, and Torquatus defends them, alleging that they had been generally misunderstood; and in the second book Cicero enumerates the chief arguments with which the Stoics assailed them.

In the third book the scene is laid in the library of Lucullus, where Cicero had accidentally met Cato; and from conversing on the books by which they were surrounded they proceeded to discuss the difference between the ethics of the Stoics, and those of the Old Academy and the Peripatetics; Cicero insisting that the disagreement was merely verbal and not real, and that Zeno was wrong in leaving Plato and Aristotle and establishing a new school; but Cato asserts, on the other hand, that the difference is a real one, and that the views held by the Stoics of the Supreme Good are of a much loftier and purer character than those which had been previously entertained. In the fourth book Cicero gives us the arguments with which the philosophers of the New Academy assailed the Stoics. And this conversation is supposed to have been held two years before that in the first book: for at the beginning of Book IV. there is a reference to the law for limiting the length of the speeches of counsel passed in the second consulship of Pompey, B.C. 55, as being only just passed. In the fifth book we are carried back to B.C. 79, and the scene is laid at Athens, where Cicero was at that time under Antiochus and Demetrius. He and his brother Quintus, Lucius Cicero his cousin, Pomponius Atticus, and Marcus Pupius Piso are represented as meeting in the Academia; and Piso, at the request of his companions, lays open the precepts inculcated by Aristotle and his school on the subject of the Summum Bonum; after which Cicero states the objections of the Stoics to the Peripatetic system, and Piso replies. While giving the opinions of these above-named sects with great fairness and impartiality Cicero abstains throughout from pronouncing any judgment of his own.

First Book Of The Treatise On The Chief Good And Evil. I. I was not ignorant, Brutus, when I was endeavouring to add to Latin literature the same things which philosophers of the most sublime genius and the most profound and accurate learning had previously handled in the Greek language, that my labours would be found fault with on various grounds. For some, and those too, far from unlearned men, are disinclined to philosophy altogether; some, on the other hand, do not blame a moderate degree of attention being given to it, but do not approve of so much study and labour being devoted to it. There will be others again, learned in Greek literature and despising Latin compositions, who will say that they would rather spend their time in reading Greek; and, lastly, I suspect that there will be some people who will insist upon it that I ought to apply myself to other studies, and will urge that, although this style of writing may be an elegant accomplishment, it is still beneath my character and dignity. And to all these objections I think I ought to make a brief reply; although, indeed, I have already given a sufficient answer to the enemies of philosophy in that book in which philosophy is defended and extolled by me after having been attacked and disparaged by Hortensius.(13) And as both you and others whom I considered competent judges approved highly of that book, I have undertaken a larger work, fearing to appear able only to excite the desires of men, but incapable of retaining their attention. But those who, though they have a very good opinion of philosophy, still think it should be followed in a moderate degree only, require a temperance which is very difficult in a thing which, when once it has the reins given it, cannot be checked or repressed; so that I almost think those men more reasonable who altogether forbid us to apply ourselves to philosophy at all, than they who fix a limit to things which are in their nature boundless, and who require mediocrity in a thing which is excellent exactly in proportion to its intensity.

For, if it be possible that men should arrive at wisdom, then it must not only be acquired by us, but even enjoyed. Or if this be difficult, still there is no limit to the way in which one is to seek for truth except one has found it; and it is base to be wearied in seeking a thing, when what we do seek for is the most honourable thing possible. In truth, if we are amused when we are writing, who is so envious as to wish to deny us that pleasure? If it is a labour to us, who will fix a limit to another person’s industry? For as the Chremes(14) of Terence does not speak from a disregard of what is due to men when he does not wish his new neighbour To dig, or plough, or any toil endure: for he is not in this dissuading him from industry, but only from such labour as is beneath a gentleman; so, on the other hand those men are over scrupulous who are offended by my devoting myself to a labour which is far from irksome to myself.

II. It is more difficult to satisfy those men who allege that they despise Latin writings. But, first of all, I may express my wonder at their not being pleased with their native language in matters of the highest importance, when they are fond enough of reading fables in Latin, translated word for word from the Greek. For what man is such an enemy (as I may almost call it) to the Roman name, as to despise or reject the Medea of Ennius, or the Antiope of Pacuvius? and to express a dislike of Latin literature, while at the same time he speaks of being pleased with the plays of Euripides? “What,” says such an one, “shall I rather read the Synephebi of Cæcilius,(15) or the Andria of Terence, than either of these plays in the original of Menander?” But I disagree with men of these opinions so entirely, that though Sophocles has composed an Electra in the most admirable manner possible, still I think the indifferent translation of it by Atilius(16) worth reading too, though Licinius calls him an iron writer; with much truth in my opinion; still he is a writer whom it is worth while to read. For to be wholly unacquainted with our own poets is a proof either of the laziest indolence, or else of a very superfluous fastidiousness.

My own opinion is, that no one is sufficiently learned who is not well versed in the works written in our own language. Shall we not be as willing to read— Would that the pine, the pride of Pelion’s brow, as the same idea when expressed in Greek? And is there any objection to having the discussions which have been set out by Plato, on the subject of living well and happily, arrayed in a Latin dress? And if we do not limit ourselves to the office of translators, but maintain those arguments which have been advanced by people with whom we argue, and add to them the exposition of our own sentiments, and clothe the whole in our own language, why then should people prefer the writings of the Greeks to those things which are written by us in an elegant style, without being translated from the works of Greek philosophers? For if they say that these matters have been discussed by those foreign writers, then there surely is no necessity for their reading such a number of those Greeks as they do. For what article of Stoic doctrine has been passed over by Chrysippus? And yet we read also Diogenes,(17) Antipater,(18) Mnesarchus,(19) Panætius,(20) and many others, and especially the works of my own personal friend Posidonius.(21) What shall we say of Theophrastus? Is it but a moderate pleasure which he imparts to us while he is handling the topics which had been previously dilated on by Aristotle? What shall we say of the Epicureans? Do they pass over the subjects on which Epicurus himself and other ancient writers have previously written, and forbear to deliver their sentiments respecting them? But if Greek authors are read by the Greeks, though discussing the same subjects over and over again, because they deal with them in different manners, why should not the writings of Roman authors be also read by our own countrymen?

III. Although if I were to translate Plato or Aristotle in as bold a manner as our poets have translated the Greek plays, then, I suppose, I should not deserve well at the hands of my fellow-countrymen, for having brought those divine geniuses within their reach. However, that is not what I have hitherto done, though I do not consider myself interdicted from doing so. Some particular passages, if I think it desirable, I shall translate, especially from those authors whom I have just named, when there is an opportunity of doing so with propriety; just as Ennius often translates passages from Homer, and Afranius(22) from Menander. Nor will I, like Lucilius, make any objection to everybody reading my writings. I should be glad to have that Persius(23) for one of my readers; and still more to have Scipio and Rutilius; men whose criticism he professed to fear, saying that he wrote for the people of Tarentum, and Consentia, and Sicily. That was all very witty of him, and in his usual style; but still, people at that time were not so learned as to give him cause to labour much before he could encounter their judgment, and his writings are of a lightish character, showing indeed, a high degree of good breeding, but only a moderate quantity of learning. But whom can I fear to have read my works when I ventured to address a book to you, who are not inferior to the Greeks themselves in philosophical knowledge? Although I have this excuse for what I am doing, that I have been challenged by you, in that to me most acceptable book which you sent me “On Virtue.”

But I imagine that some people have become accustomed to feel a repugnance to Latin writing because they have fallen in with some unpolished and inelegant treatises translated from bad Greek into worse Latin. And with those men I agree, provided they will not think it worth while to read the Greek books written on the same subject. But who would object to read works on important subjects expressed in well-selected diction, with dignity and elegance; unless, indeed, he wishes to be taken absolutely for a Greek, as Albucius was saluted at Athens by Scævola, when he was prætor? And this topic has been handled by that same Lucilius with great elegance and abundant wit; where he represents Scævola as saying— You have preferr’d, Albucius, to be call’d A Greek much rather than a Roman citizen Or Sabine, countryman of Pontius, Tritannius, and the brave centurions And standard-bearers of immortal fame. So now at Athens, I, the prætor, thus Salute you as you wish, whene’er I see you, With Greek address, ὦ χαῖρε noble Titus, Ye lictors, and attendants χαίρετε. ὦ χαῖρε noble Titus. From this day The great Albucius was my enemy. But surely Scævola was right. However, I can never sufficiently express my wonder whence this arrogant disdain of everything national arose among us. This is not exactly the place for lecturing on the subject; but my own feelings are, and I have constantly urged them, that the Latin language is not only not deficient, so as to deserve to be generally disparaged; but that it is even more copious than the Greek. For when have either we ourselves, or when has any good orator or noble poet, at least after there was any one for him to imitate, found himself at a loss for any richness or ornament of diction with which to set off his sentiments?

IV. And I myself (as I do not think that I can be accused of having, in my forensic exertions, and labours, and dangers, deserted the post in which I was stationed by the Roman people,) am bound, forsooth, to exert myself as much as I can to render my fellow-countrymen more learned by my labours and studies and diligence, and not so much to contend with those men who prefer reading Greek works, provided that they really do read them, and do not only pretend to do so; and to fall in also with the wishes of those men who are desirous either to avail themselves of both languages, or who, as long as they have good works in their own, do not care very much about similar ones in a foreign tongue. But those men who would rather that I would write on other topics should be reasonable, because I have already composed so many works that no one of my countrymen has ever published more, and perhaps I shall write even more if my life is prolonged so as to allow me to do so. And yet, whoever accustoms himself to read with care these things which I am now writing on the subject of philosophy, will come to the conclusion that no works are better worth reading than these. For what is there in life which deserves to be investigated so diligently as every subject which belongs to philosophy, and especially that which is discussed in this treatise, namely, what is the end, the object, the standard to which all the ideas of living well and acting rightly are to be referred? What it is that nature follows as the chief of all desirable things? what she avoids as the principal of all evils?

And as on this subject there is great difference of opinion among the most learned men, who can think it inconsistent with that dignity which every one allows to belong to me, to examine what is in every situation in life the best and truest good? Shall the chief men of the city, Publius Scævola and Marcus Manilius argue whether the offspring of a female slave ought to be considered the gain of the master of the slave; and shall Marcus Brutus express his dissent from their opinion, (and this is a kind of discussion giving great room for the display of acuteness, and one too that is of importance as regards the citizens,) and do we read, and shall we continue to read, with pleasure their writings on this subject, and the others of the same sort, and at the same time neglect these subjects, which embrace the whole of human life? There may, perhaps, be more money affected by discussions on that legal point, but beyond all question, this of ours is the more important subject: that, however, is a point which the readers may be left to decide upon. But we now think that this whole question about the ends of good and evil is, I may almost say, thoroughly explained in this treatise, in which we have endeavoured to set forth as far as we could, not only what our own opinion was, but also everything which has been advanced by each separate school of philosophy.

V. To begin, however, with that which is easiest, we will first of all take the doctrine of Epicurus, which is well known to most people; and you shall see that it is laid down by us in such a way that it cannot be explained more accurately even by the adherents of that sect themselves. For we are desirous of ascertaining the truth; not of convicting some adversary. But the opinion of Epicurus about pleasure was formerly defended with great precision by Lucius Torquatus, a man accomplished in every kind of learning; and I myself replied to him, while Caius Triarius, a most learned and worthy young man, was present at the discussion. For as it happened that both of them had come to my villa near Cumæ to pay me a visit, first of all we conversed a little about literature, to which they were both of them greatly devoted; and after a while Torquatus said—Since we have found you in some degree at leisure, I should like much to hear from you why it is that you, I will not say hate our master Epicurus—as most men do who differ from him in opinion—but still why you disagree with him whom I consider as the only man who has discerned the real truth, and who I think has delivered the minds of men from the greatest errors, and has handed down every precept which can have any influence on making men live well and happily. But I imagine that you, like my friend Triarius here, like him the less because he neglected the ornaments of diction in which Plato, and Aristotle, and Theophrastus indulged.

For I can hardly be persuaded to believe that the opinions which he entertained do not appear to you to be correct. See now, said I, how far you are mistaken, Torquatus. I am not offended with the language of that philosopher; for he expresses his meaning openly and speaks in plain language, so that I can understand him. Not, however, that I should object to eloquence in a philosopher, if he were to think fit to employ it; though if he were not possessed of it I should not require it. But I am not so well satisfied with his matter, and that too on many topics. But there are as many different opinions as there are men; and therefore we may be in error ourselves. What is it, said he, in which you are dissatisfied with him? For I consider you a candid judge; provided only that you are accurately acquainted with what he has really said. Unless, said I, you think that Phædrus or Zeno have spoken falsely (and I have heard them both lecture, though they gave me a high opinion of nothing but their own diligence,) all the doctrines of Epicurus are quite sufficiently known to me. And I have repeatedly, in company with my friend Atticus, attended the lectures of those men whom I have named; as he had a great admiration for both of them, and an especial affection even for Phædrus. And every day we used to talk over what we heard, nor was there ever any dispute between us as to whether I understood the scope of their arguments; but only whether I approved of them.

VI. What is it, then, said he, which you do not approve of in them, for I am very anxious to hear? In the first place, said I, he is utterly wrong in natural philosophy, which is his principal boast. He only makes some additions to the doctrine of Democritus, altering very little, and that in such a way that he seems to me to make those points worse which he endeavours to correct. He believes that atoms, as he calls them, that is to say bodies which by reason of their solidity are indivisible, are borne about in an interminable vacuum, destitute of any highest, or lowest, or middle, or furthest, or nearest boundary, in such a manner that by their concourse they cohere together; by which cohesion everything which exists and which is seen is formed. And he thinks that motion of atoms should be understood never to have had a beginning, but to have subsisted from all eternity. But in those matters in which Epicurus follows Democritus, he is usually not very wrong. Although there are many assertions of each with which I disagree, and especially with this—that as in the nature of things there are two points which must be inquired into,—one, what the material out of which everything is made, is; the other, what the power is which makes everything,—they discussed only the material, and omitted all consideration of the efficient power and cause. However, that is a fault common to both of them; but these blunders which I am going to mention are Epicurus’s own.

For he thinks that those indivisible and solid bodies are borne downwards by their own weight in a straight line; and that this is the natural motion of all bodies. After this assertion, that shrewd man,—as it occurred to him, that if everything were borne downwards in a straight line, as I have just said, it would be quite impossible for one atom ever to touch another,—on this account he introduced another purely imaginary idea, and said that the atoms diverged a little from the straight line, which is the most impossible thing in the world. And he asserted that it is in this way that all those embraces, and conjunctions, and unions of the atoms with one another took place, by which the world was made, and all the parts of the world, and all that is in the world. And not only is all this idea perfectly childish, but it fails in effecting its object. For this very divergence is invented in a most capricious manner, (for he says that each atom diverges without any cause,) though nothing can be more discreditable to a natural philosopher than to say that anything takes place without a cause; and also, without any reason, he deprives atoms of that motion which is natural to every body of any weight (as he himself lays it down) which goes downwards from the upper regions; and at the same time he does not obtain the end for the sake of which he invented all these theories.

For if every atom diverges equally, still none will ever meet with one another so as to cohere; but if some diverge, and others are borne straight down by their natural inclination, in the first place this will be distributing provinces as it were among the atoms, and dividing them so that some are borne down straight, and others obliquely; and in the next place, this turbulent concourse of atoms, which is a blunder of Democritus also, will never be able to produce this beautifully ornamented world which we see around us. Even this, too, is inconsistent with the principles of natural philosophy, to believe that there is such a thing as a minimum; a thing which he indeed never would have fancied, if he had been willing to learn geometry from his friend Polyænus,(24) instead of seeking to persuade him to give it up himself. The sun appears to Democritus to be of vast size, as he is a man of learning and of a profound knowledge of geometry. Epicurus perhaps thinks that it is two feet across, for he thinks it of just that size which it appears to be, or perhaps a little larger or smaller. So what he changes he spoils; what he accepts comes entirely from Democritus,—the atoms, the vacuum, the appearances, which they call εἴδωλα, to the inroads of which it is owing not only that we see, but also that we think; and all that infiniteness, which they call ἀπειρία, is borrowed from Democritus; and also the innumerable worlds which are produced and perish every day. And although I cannot possibly agree myself with all those fancies, still I should not like to see Democritus, who is praised by every one else, blamed by this man who has followed him alone.

Text from Project Gutenberg, public domain in the United States.

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