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
SECOND BOOK OF THE ACADEMIC QUESTIONS.
Although, if those principles which we have been maintaining are true, there is no advantage whatever in discussing assent. For he who perceives anything, assents immediately. But these inferences also follow,—that memory can have no existence without assent, no more can notions of things or arts. And what is most important of all is, that, although some things may be in our power, yet they will not be in the power of that man who assents to nothing. Where, then, is virtue, if nothing depends on ourselves? But it is above all things absurd that vices should be in the power of the agents, and that no one should do wrong except by deliberate consent to do so, and yet that this should not be the case with virtue; all the consistency and firmness of which depends on the things to which it has assented, and which it has approved. And altogether it is necessary that something should be perceived before we act, and before we assent to what is perceived; wherefore, he who denies the existence of perception or assent, puts an end to all action in life.
XIII. Now let us examine the arguments which are commonly advanced by this school in opposition to these principles. But, first of all, you have it in your power to become acquainted with what I may call the foundations of their system. They then, first of all, compound a sort of art of those things which we call perceptions, and define their power and kinds; and at the same time they explain what the character of that thing which can be perceived and comprehended is, in the very same words as the Stoics. In the next place, they explain those two principles, which contain, as it were, the whole of this question; and which appear in such a manner that even others may appear in the same, nor is there any difference between them, so that it is impossible that some of them should be perceived, and that others should not be perceived; but that it makes no difference, not only if they are in every part of the same character, but even if they cannot be distinguished. And when these principles are laid down, then these men comprehend the whole cause in the conclusion of one argument. But this conclusion, thus compounded, runs in this way: “Of the things which are seen, some are true and some are false; and what is false cannot be perceived, but that which appears to be true is all of such a character that a thing of the same sort may seem to be also false. And as to those things which are perceived being of such a sort that there is no difference between them, it cannot possibly happen that some of them can be perceived, and that others cannot; there is, then, nothing seen which can really be perceived.”
But of the axioms which they assume, in order to draw the conclusions which they desire, they think that two ought to be granted to them; for no one objects to them. They are these: “That those perceptions which are false, cannot really be perceived;” and the second is—“Of those perceptions between which there is no difference, it is impossible that some should be of such a character that they can be perceived, and others of such a character that they cannot.” But their other propositions they defend by numerous and varied arguments, and they likewise are two in number. One is—“Of those things which appear, some are true and others false;” the other is—“Every perception which originates in the truth, is of such a character as it might be of, though originating in what is false.” And these two propositions they do not pass by, but they expand in such a manner as to show no slight degree of care and diligence. For they divide them into parts, and those also large parts; first of all into the senses, then into those things which are derived from the senses, and from universal custom, the authority of which they wish to invalidate. Then they come to the point of laying it down that nothing can be perceived even by reason and conjecture. And these universal propositions they cut up into more minute parts. For as in our yesterday’s discussion you saw that they acted with respect to the senses, so do they also act with respect to everything else. And in each separate thing which they divide into the most minute parts, they wish to make out that all these true perceptions have often false ones added to them, which are in no respect different from the true ones; and that, as they are of such a character, nothing can be comprehended.
XIV. Now all this subtlety I consider indeed thoroughly worthy of philosophy, but still wholly unconnected with the case which they advocate who argue thus. For definitions, and divisions, and a discourse which employs these ornaments, and also similarities and dissimilarities, and the subtle and fine-drawn distinctions between them, belong to men who are confident that those arguments which they are upholding are true, and firm, and certain; and not to men who assert loudly that those things are no more true than false. For what would they do if, after they had defined anything, some one were to ask them whether that definition could be transferred to something else? If they said it could, then what reason could they give why it should be a true definition? If they said no,—then it must be confessed, since that definition of what is true cannot be transferred to what is false, that that which is explained by that definition can be perceived; which is the last thing they mean. The same thing may be said on every article of the division. For if they say that they see clearly the things about which they are arguing, and they cannot be hindered by any similarity of appearance, then they will confess that they are able to comprehend those things. But if they affirm that true perceptions cannot be distinguished from false ones, how can they go any further? For the same objections will be made to them which have been made already; for an argument cannot be concluded, unless the premises which are taken to deduce the conclusion from are so established that nothing of the same kind can be false.
Therefore, if reason, relying on things comprehended and perceived, and advancing in reliance on them, establishes the point that nothing can be comprehended, what can be found which can be more inconsistent with itself? And as the very nature of an accurate discourse professes that it will develop something which is not apparent, and that, in order the more easily to succeed in its object, it will employ the senses and those things which are evident, what sort of discourse is that which is uttered by those men who insist upon it that everything has not so much an existence as a mere appearance? But they are convicted most of all when they assume, as consistent with each other, these two propositions which are so utterly incompatible: first of all,—That there are some false perceptions;—and in asserting this they declare also that there are some which are true: and secondly, they add at the same time,—That there is no difference between true perceptions and false ones. But you assumed the first proposition as if there were some difference; and so the latter proposition is inconsistent with the former, and the former with the latter. But let us proceed further, and act so as in no respect to seem to be flattering ourselves; and let us follow up what is said by them, in such a manner as to allow nothing to be passed over.
In the first place, then, that evidentness which we have mentioned has sufficiently great power of itself to point out to us the things which are just as they are. But still, in order that we may remain with firmness and constancy in our trust in what is evident, we have need of a greater degree of either skill or diligence, in order not, by some sort of juggling or trick, to be driven away from those things which are clear of themselves. For Epicurus, who wished to remedy those errors, which seem to perplex one’s knowledge of the truth, and who said that it was the duty of a wise man to separate opinion from evident knowledge, did no good at all; for he did not in the least remove the errors of opinion itself. XV. Wherefore, as there are two causes which oppose what is manifest and evident, it is necessary also to provide oneself with an equal number of aids. For this is the first obstacle, that men do not sufficiently exert and fix their minds upon those things which are evident, so as to be able to understand how great the light is with which they are surrounded. The second is, that some men, being deluded and deceived by fallacious and captious interrogatories, when they cannot clear them up, abandon the truth. It is right, therefore, for us to have those answers ready which may be given in defence of the evidentness of a thing,—and we have already spoken of them,—and to be armed, in order to be able to encounter the questions of those people, and to scatter their captious objections to the winds: and this is what I propose to do next.
I will, therefore, explain their arguments one by one; since even they themselves are in the habit of speaking in a sufficiently lucid manner. In the first place, they endeavour to show that many things can appear to exist, which in reality have no existence; when minds are moved to no purpose by things which do not exist, in the same manner as by things that do. For when you say (say they) that some visions are sent by God, as those, for instance, which are seen during sleep, and those also which are revealed by oracles, and auspices, and the entrails of victims, (for they say that the Stoics, against whom they are arguing, admit all these things,) they ask how God can make those things probable which appear to be false; and how it is that He cannot make those appear so which plainly come as near as possible to truth? Or if He can likewise make those appear probable, why He cannot make the others appear so too, which are only with great difficulty distinguished from them? And if He can make these appear so, then why He cannot also make those things appear so which are absolutely different in no respect whatever?
In the next place, since the mind is moved by itself,—as those things which we picture to ourselves in thought, and those which present themselves to the sight of madmen or sleeping men declare,—is it not, say they, probable that the mind is also moved in such a manner, that not only it does not distinguish between the perceptions, as to whether they be true or false, but that there really is no difference between them? As, for instance, if any men of their own accord trembled and grew pale, on account of some agitation of mind, or because some terrible object came upon them from without, there would be no means of distinguishing one trembling and paleness from the other, nor indeed would there be any difference between the external and internal alarm which caused them. Lastly, if no perceptions are probable which are false, then we must seek for other principles; but if they are probable, then why may not one say the same of such as are not easily distinguished from one another? Why not also of such as have actually no difference at all between them? Especially when you yourselves say that the wise man when enraged withholds himself from all assent, because there is no distinction between his perceptions which is visible to him. XVI. Now on all these empty perceptions Antiochus brought forward a great many arguments, and one whole day was occupied in the discussion of this subject. But I do not think that I ought to adopt the same course, but merely to give the heads of what he said.
And in the first place, they are blameable in this, that they use a most captious kind of interrogation. And the system of adding or taking away, step by step, minute items from a proposition, is a kind of argument very little to be approved of in philosophy. They call it sorites,(11) when they make up a heap by adding grain after grain; a very vicious and captious style of arguing. For you mount up in this way:—If a vision is brought by God before a man asleep of such a nature as to be probable (_probabile_), why may not one also be brought of such a nature as to be very like truth (_verisimile_)? If so, then why may not one be brought which can hardly be distinguished from truth? If so, then why may there not be one which cannot be distinguished at all? If so, then why may there not be such that there is actually no difference between them?—If you come to this point because I have granted you all the previous propositions, it will be my fault; but if you advance thither of your own accord, it will be yours. For who will grant to you either that God can do everything, or that even if He could He would act in that manner?
And how do you assume that if one thing may be like another, it follows that it may also be difficult to distinguish between them? And then, that one cannot distinguish between them at all? And lastly, that they are identical? So that if wolves are like dogs, you will come at last to asserting that they are the same animals. And indeed there are some things not honourable, which are like things that are honourable; some things not good, like those that are good; some things proceeding on no system, like others which are regulated by system. Why then do we hesitate to affirm that there is no difference between all these things? Do we not even see that they are inconsistent? For there is nothing that can be transferred from its own genus to another. But if such a conclusion did follow, as that there was no difference between perceptions of different genera, but that some could be found which were both in their own genus and in one which did not belong to them, how could that be possible?
There is then one means of getting rid of all unreal perceptions, whether they be formed in the ideas, which we grant to be usually the case, or whether they be owing to idleness, or to wine, or to madness. For we say that clearness, which we ought to hold with the greatest tenacity, is absent from all visions of that kind. For who is there who, when he imagines something and pictures it to himself in his thoughts, does not, as soon as he has stirred up himself, and recovered himself, feel how much difference there is between what is evident and what is unreal? The case of dreams is the same. Do you think that Ennius, when he had been walking in his garden with Sergius Galba, his neighbour, said to himself,—I have seemed to myself to be walking with Galba? But when he had a dream, he related it in this way,— The poet Homer seem’d to stand before me. And again in his Epicharmus he says— For I seem’d to be dreaming, and laid in the tomb. Therefore, as soon as we are awakened, we despise those things which we have seen, and do not regard them as we do the things which we have done in the forum.
XVII. But while these visions are being beheld, they assume the same appearance as those things which we see while awake. There is a good deal of real difference between them; but we may pass over that. For what we assert is, that there is not the same power or soundness in people when asleep that there is in them while waking, either in intellect or in sensation. What even drunken men do, they do not do with the same deliberate approbation as sober men. They doubt, they hesitate, they check themselves at times, and give but a feeble assent to what they see or agree too. And when they have slept off their drunkenness, then they understand how unreal their perceptions were. And the same thing is the case with madmen; that when their madness is beginning, they both feel and say that something appears to them to exist that has no real existence. And when their frenzy abates, they feel and speak like Alcmæon;— But now my heart does not agree With that which with my eyes I see. But even in madness the wise man puts restraint upon himself, so far as not to approve of what is false as if it were true. And he does so often at other times, if there is by chance any heaviness or slowness in his senses, or if those things which are seen by him are rather obscure, or if he is prevented from thoroughly examining them by the shortness of the time. Although the whole of this fact, that the wise man sometimes suspends his assent, makes against you. For if there were no difference between his perceptions, he would either suspend it always or never.
But from the whole character of this discussion we may see the worthless nature of the argument of those men who wish to throw everything into confusion. We want judgment, marked with gravity, consistency, firmness, and wisdom: and we use the examples of men dreaming, mad, or drunk. I press this point, that in all this discussion we are speaking with great inconsistency. For we should not bring forward men sunk in wine or sleep, or deprived of sense, in such an absurd manner as at one time to say there is a difference between the perceptions of men awake and sober and sensible, and those of men in a different condition, and at other times that there was no difference at all.
They do not even perceive that by this kind of argument they are making out everything to be uncertain, which they do not wish to do. I call that uncertain which the Greeks call ἄδηλον. For if the fact be that there is no difference between the appearance that a thing presents to a madman and to a person in his senses, then who can feel quite sure of his own sanity? And to wish to produce such an effect as that is a proof of no ordinary madness. But they follow up in a childish manner the likenesses of twins, or of impressions of rings. For who of us denies that there are such things as likenesses, when they are visible in numbers of things? But if the fact of many things being like many other things is sufficient to take away knowledge, why are you not content with that, especially as we admit it? And why do you rather insist upon that assertion which the nature of things will not suffer, that everything is not in its own kind of that character of which it really is? and that there is a conformity without any difference whatever in two or more things; so that eggs are entirely like eggs, and bees like bees? What then are you contending for? or what do you seek to gain by talking about twins? For it is granted that they are alike; and you might be content with that. But you try to make them out to be actually the same, and not merely alike; and that is quite impossible.
Then you have recourse to those natural philosophers who are so greatly ridiculed in the Academy, but whom you will not even now desist from quoting. And you tell us that Democritus says that there are a countless number of worlds, and that there are some which are not only so like one another, but so completely and absolutely equal in every point, that there is no difference whatever between them, and that they are quite innumerable; and so also are men. Then you require that, if the world be so entirely equal to another world that there is absolutely not the slightest difference between them, we should grant to you that in this world of ours also there must be something exactly equal to something else, so that there is no difference whatever or distinction between them. For why, you will say, since there not only can be, but actually are innumerable Quinti Lutatii Catuli formed out of those atoms, from which Democritus affirms that everything is produced, in all the other worlds, which are likewise innumerable,—why may not there be a second Catulus formed in this identical world of ours, since it is of such a size as we see it?
XVIII. First of all I reply, that you are bringing me to the arguments of Democritus, with whom I do not agree. And I will the more readily refute them, on account of that doctrine which is laid down very clearly by the more refined natural philosophers, that everything has its own separate property. For grant that those ancient Servilii who were twins were as much alike as they are said to have been, do you think that that would have made them the same? They were not distinguished from one another out of doors, but they were at home. They were not distinguished from one another by strangers, but they were by their own family. Do we not see that this is frequently the case, that those people whom we should never have expected to be able to know from one another, we do by practice distinguish so easily that they do not appear to be even in the least alike?
Here, however, you may struggle; I will not oppose you. Moreover, I will grant that that very wise man who is the subject of all this discussion, when things like one another come under his notice, in which he has not remarked any special character, will withhold his assent, and will never agree to any perception which is not of such a character as a false perception can never assume. But with respect to all other things he has a certain art by which he can distinguish what is true from what is false; and with respect to those similitudes he must apply the test of experience. As a mother distinguishes between twins by the constant practice of her eyes, so you too will distinguish when you have become accustomed to it. Do you not see that it has become a perfect proverb that one egg is like another? and yet we are told that at Delos (when it was a flourishing island) there were many people who used to keep large numbers of hens for the sake of profit; and that they, when they had looked upon an egg, could tell which hen had laid it. Nor does that fact make against our argument; for it is sufficient for us to be able to distinguish between the eggs.
For it is impossible for one to assent to the proposition that this thing is that thing more, than by admitting that there is actually no difference at all between the two. For I have laid it down as a rule, to consider all perceptions true which are of such a character as those which are false cannot be. And from this I may not depart one finger’s breadth, as they say, lest I should throw everything into confusion. For not only the knowledge of what is true and false, but their whole nature too, will be destroyed if there is no difference between one and the other. And that must be very absurd which you sometimes are in the habit of saying, when perceptions are imprinted on the mind, that what you say is, not that there is no difference between the impressions, but only that there is none between certain appearances and forms which they assume. As if perceptions were not judged of by their appearance, which can deserve or obtain no credit if the mark by which we are to distinguish truth from falsehood be taken away.
Ideas discussed in this chapter
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