TREATISES ON FRIENDSHIP AND OLD AGE

By Marcus Tullius Cicero

Translated by E. S. Shuckburgh

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO, the greatest of Roman orators and the chiefmaster of Latin prose style, was born at Arpinum, Jan. 3, 106 B. C. His father, who was a man of property and belonged to the class ofthe "Knights, " moved to Rome when Cicero was a child; and the futurestatesman received an elaborate education in rhetoric, law, andphilosophy, studying and practising under some of the most notedteachers of the time. He began his career as an advocate at the age oftwenty-five, and almost immediately came to be recognized not only as aman of brilliant talents but also as a courageous upholder of justice inthe face of grave political danger. After two years of practice he leftRome to travel in Greece and Asia, taking all the opportunities thatoffered to study his art under distinguished masters. He returned toRome greatly improved in health and in professional skill, and in 76B. C. Was elected to the office of quaestor. He was assigned to theprovince of Lilybarum in Sicily, and the vigor and justice of hisadministration earned him the gratitude of the inhabitants. It was attheir request that he undertook in 70 B. C. The Prosecution of Verres, who as Praetor had subjected the Sicilians to incredible extortion andoppression; and his successful conduct of this case, which ended in theconviction and banishment of Verres, may be said to have launched himon his political career. He became aedile in the same year, in 67 B. C. Praetor, and in 64 B. C. Was elected consul by a large majority. Themost important event of the year of his consulship was the conspiracy ofCatiline. This notorious criminal of patrician rank had conspired witha number of others, many of them young men of high birth but dissipatedcharacter, to seize the chief offices of the state, and to extricatethemselves from the pecuniary and other difficulties that had resultedfrom their excesses, by the wholesale plunder of the city. The plot wasunmasked by the vigilance of Cicero, five of the traitors were summarilyexecuted, and in the overthrow of the army that had been gathered intheir support Catiline himself perished. Cicero regarded himself as thesavior of his country, and his country for the moment seemed to givegrateful assent. 

But reverses were at hand. During the existence of the politicalcombination of Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus, known as the firsttriumvirate, P. Clodius, an enemy of Cicero's, proposed a law banishing"any one who had put Roman citizens to death without trial. " This wasaimed at Cicero on account of his share in the Catiline affair, and inMarch, 58 B. C. , he left Rome. The same day a law was passed by whichhe was banished by name, and his property was plundered and destroyed, a temple to Liberty being erected on the site of his house in the city. During his exile Cicero's manliness to some extent deserted him. Hedrifted from place to place, seeking the protection of officials againstassassination, writing letters urging his supporters to agitate forhis recall, sometimes accusing them of lukewarmness and even treachery, bemoaning the ingratitude of his' country or regretting the courseof action that had led to his outlawry, and suffering from extremedepression over his separation from his wife and children and the wreckof his political ambitions. Finally in August, 57 B. C. , the decreefor his restoration was passed, and he returned to Rome the next month, being received with immense popular enthusiasm. During the next fewyears the renewal of the understanding among the triumvirs shut Ciceroout from any leading part in politics, and he resumed his activity inthe law-courts, his most important case being, perhaps, the defence ofMilo for the murder of Clodius, Cicero's most troublesome enemy. Thisoration, in the revised form in which it has come down to us, is rankedas among the finest specimens of the art of the orator, though in itsoriginal form it failed to secure Milo's acquittal. Meantime, Cicero wasalso devoting much time to literary composition, and his letters showgreat dejection over the political situation, and a somewhat waveringattitude towards the various parties in the state. In 55 B. C. He wentto Cilicia in Asia Minor as proconsul, an office which he administeredwith efficiency and integrity in civil affairs and with success inmilitary. He returned to Italy in the end of the following year, and hewas publicly thanked by the senate for his services, but disappointed inhis hopes for a triumph. The war for supremacy between Caesar and Pompeywhich had for some time been gradually growing more certain, broke outin 49 B. C. , when Caesar led his army across the Rubicon, and Ciceroafter much irresolution threw in his lot with Pompey, who was overthrownthe next year in the battle of Pharsalus and later murdered in Egypt. Cicero returned to Italy, where Caesar treated him magnanimously, and for some time he devoted himself to philosophical and rhetoricalwriting. In 46 B. C. He divorced his wife Terentia, to whom he had beenmarried for thirty years and married the young and wealthy Publilia inorder to relieve himself from financial difficulties; but her alsohe shortly divorced. Caesar, who had now become supreme in Rome, wasassassinated in 44 B. C. , and though Cicero was not a sharer in theconspiracy, he seems to have approved the deed. In the confusion whichfollowed he supported the cause of the conspirators against Antony;and when finally the triumvirate of Antony, Octavius, and Lepidus wasestablished, Cicero was included among the proscribed, and on December7, 43 B. C. , he was killed by agents of Antony. His head and hand werecut off and exhibited at Rome. 

The most important orations of the last months of his life were thefourteen "Philippics" delivered against Antony, and the price of thisenmity he paid with his life. 

To his contemporaries Cicero was primarily the great forensic andpolitical orator of his time, and the fifty-eight speeches which havecome down to us bear testimony to the skill, wit, eloquence, and Passionwhich gave him his pre-eminence. But these speeches of necessity dealwith the minute details of the occasions which called them forth, andso require for their appreciation a full knowledge of the history, political and personal, of the time. The letters, on the other hand, are less elaborate both in style and in the handling of current events, while they serve to reveal his personality, and to throw light uponRoman life in the last days of the Republic in an extremely vividfashion. Cicero as a man, in spite of his self-importance, thevacillation of his political conduct in desperate crises, and thewhining despondency of his times of adversity, stands out as at bottoma patriotic Roman of substantial honesty, who gave his life to check theinevitable fall of the commonwealth to which he was devoted. The evilswhich were undermining the Republic bear so many striking resemblancesto those which threaten the civic and national life of America to-daythat the interest of the period is by no means merely historical. 

As a philosopher, Cicero's most important function was to make hiscountrymen familiar with the main schools of Greek thought. Much ofthis writing is thus of secondary interest to us in comparison with hisoriginals, but in the fields of religious theory and of the applicationof philosophy to life he made important first-hand contributions. Fromthese works have been selected the two treatises, on Old Age and onFriendship, which have proved of most permanent and widespread interestto posterity, and which give a clear impression of the way in whicha high-minded Roman thought about some of the main problems' of humanlife. 

ON FRIENDSHIP

THE augur Quintus Mucius Scaevola used to recount a number of storiesabout his father-in-law Galus Laelius, accurately remembered andcharmingly told; and whenever he talked about him always gave him thetitle of "the wise" without any hesitation. I had been introduced by myfather to Scaevola as soon as I had assumed the _toga virilis_, and Itook advantage of the introduction never to quit the venerable man'sside as long as I was able to stay and he was spared to us. Theconsequence was that I committed to memory many disquisitions of his, as well as many short pointed apophthegms, and, in short, took as muchadvantage of his wisdom as I could. When he died, I attached myselfto Scaevola the Pontifex, whom I may venture to call quite the mostdistinguished of our countrymen for ability and uprightness. But of thislatter I shall take other occasions to speak. To return to Scaevola theaugur. Among many other occasions I particularly remember one. He wassitting on a semicircular garden-bench, as was his custom, when I anda very few intimate friends were there, and he chanced to turn theconversation upon a subject which about that time was in many people'smouths. You must remember, Atticus, for you were very intimatewith Publius Sulpicius, what expressions of astonishment, or evenindignation, were called forth by his mortal quarrel, as tribune, withthe consul Quintus Pompeius, with whom he had formerly lived on terms ofthe closest intimacy and affection. Well, on this occasion, happeningto mention this particular circumstance, Scaevola detailed to us adiscourse of Laelius on friendship delivered to himself and Laelius'sother son-in-law Galus Fannius, son of Marcus Fannius, a few days afterthe death of Africanus. The points of that discussion I committed tomemory, and have arranged them in this book at my own discretion. ForI have brought the speakers, as it were, personally on to my stage toprevent the constant "said I" and "said he" of a narrative, and to givethe discourse the air of being orally delivered in our hearing. 

You have often urged me to write something on Friendship, and Iquite acknowledged that the subject seemed one worth everybody'sinvestigation, and specially suited to the close intimacy that hasexisted between you and me. Accordingly I was quite ready to benefit thepublic at your request. 

As to the _dramatis personae_. In the treatise on Old Age, which Idedicated to you, I introduced Cato as chief speaker. No one, I thought, could with greater propriety speak on old age than one who had been anold man longer than any one else, and had been exceptionally vigorousin his old age. Similarly, having learnt from tradition that of allfriendships that between Gaius Laelius and Publius Scipio was the mostremarkable, I thought Laelius was just the person to support the chiefpart in a discussion on friendship which Scaevola remembered him to haveactually taken. Moreover, a discussion of this sort gains somehow inweight from the authority of men of ancient days, especially if theyhappen to have been distinguished. So it comes about that in readingover what I have myself written I have a feeling at times that it isactually Cato that is speaking, not I. 

Finally, as I sent the former essay to you as a gift from one old man toanother, so I have dedicated this _On Friendship_ as a most affectionatefriend to his friend. In the former Cato spoke, who was the oldest andwisest man of his day; in this Laelius speaks on friendship--Laelius, who was at once a wise man (that was the title given him) and eminentfor his famous friendship. Please forget me for a while; imagine Laeliusto be speaking. 

Gaius Fannius and Quintus Mucius come to call on their father-in-lawafter the death of Africanus. They start the subject; Laelius answersthem. And the whole essay on friendship is his. In reading it you willrecognise a picture of yourself. 

2. _Fannius_. You are quite right, Laelius! there never was a better ormore illustrious character than Africanus. But you should consider thatat the present moment all eyes are on you. Everybody calls you "thewise" _par excellence_, and thinks you so. The same mark of respect waslately paid Cato, and we know that in the last generation Lucius Atiliuswas called "the wise. " But in both cases the word was applied witha certain difference. Atilius was so called from his reputation as ajurist; Cato got the name as a kind of honorary title and in extreme oldage because of his varied experience of affairs, and his reputationfor foresight and firmness, and the sagacity of the opinions which hedelivered in senate and forum. You, however, are regarded as wise ina somewhat different sense not alone on account of natural ability andcharacter, but also from your industry and learning; and not in thesense in which the vulgar, but that in which scholars, give that title. In this sense we do not read of any one being called wise in Greeceexcept one man at Athens; and he, to be sure, had been declared by theoracle of Apollo also to be "the supremely wise man. " For those whocommonly go by the name of the Seven Sages are not admitted into thecategory of the wise by fastidious critics. Your wisdom people believeto consist in this, that you look upon yourself as self-sufficing andregard the changes and chances of mortal life as powerless to affectyour virtue. Accordingly they are always asking me, and doubtless alsoour Scaevola here, how you bear the death of Africanus. This curiosityhas been the more excited from the fact that on the Nones of this month, when we augurs met as usual in the suburban villa of Decimus Brutus forconsultation, you were not present, though it had always been yourhabit to keep that appointment and perform that duty with the utmostpunctuality. 

_Scaevola_. Yes, indeed, Laelius, I am often asked the questionmentioned by Fannius. But I answer in accordance with what I haveobserved: I say that you bear in a reasonable manner the grief whichyou have sustained in the death of one who was at once a man of the mostillustrious character and a very dear friend. That of course you couldnot but be affected--anything else would have been wholly unnatural in aman of your gentle nature--but that the cause of your non-attendance atour college meeting was illness, not melancholy. 

_Laelius_. Thanks, Scaevola! You are quite right; you spoke the exacttruth. For in fact I had no right to allow myself to be withdrawn froma duty which I had regularly performed, as long as I was well, by anypersonal misfortune; nor do I think that anything that can happen willcause a man of principle to intermit a duty. As for your telling me, Fannius, of the honourable appellation given me (an appellation towhich I do not recognise my title, and to which I make no claim), youdoubtless act from feelings of affection; but I must say that you seemto me to do less than justice to Cato. If any one was ever "wise, "--ofwhich I have my doubts, --he was. Putting aside everything else, considerhow he bore his son's death! I had not forgotten Paulus; I had seen withmy own eyes Gallus. But they lost their sons when mere children; Catohis when he was a full-grown man with an assured reputation. Do nottherefore be in a hurry to reckon as Cato's superior even that samefamous personage whom Apollo, as you say, declared to be "the wisest. "Remember the former's reputation rests on deeds, the latter's on words. 

3. Now, as far as I am concerned (I speak to both of you now), believeme the case stands thus. If I were to say that I am not affected byregret for Scipio, I must leave the philosophers to justify my conduct, but in point of fact I should be telling a lie. Affected of course I amby the loss of a friend as I think there will never be again, such asI can fearlessly say there never was before. But I stand in no need ofmedicine. I can find my own consolation, and it consists chiefly in mybeing free from the mistaken notion which generally causes pain at thedeparture of friends. To Scipio I am convinced no evil has befallen mineis the disaster, if disaster there be; and to be severely distressed atone's own misfortunes does not show that you love your friend, but thatyou love yourself. 

As for him, who can say that all is not more than well? For, unless hehad taken the fancy to wish for immortality, the last thing of which heever thought, what is there for which mortal man may wish that he didnot attain? In his early manhood he more than justified by extraordinarypersonal courage the hopes which his fellow-citizens had conceived ofhim as a child. He never was a candidate for the consulship, yet waselected consul twice: the first time before the legal age; the second ata time which, as far as he was concerned, was soon enough, but was nearbeing too late for the interests of the State. By the overthrow of twocities which were the most bitter enemies of our Empire, he put an endnot only to the wars then raging, but also to the possibility of othersin the future. What need to mention the exquisite grace of his manners, his dutiful devotion to his mother, his generosity to his sisters, hisliberality to his relations, the integrity of his conduct to everyone? You know all this already. Finally, the estimation in which hisfellow-citizens held him has been shown by the signs of mourning whichaccompanied his obsequies. What could such a man have gained by theaddition of a few years? Though age need not be a burden, --as I rememberCato arguing in the presence of myself and Scipio two years before hedied, --yet it cannot but take away the vigour and freshness which Scipiowas still enjoying. We may conclude therefore that his life, from thegood fortune which had attended him and the glory he had obtained, wasso circumstanced that it could not be bettered, while the suddennessof his death saved him the sensation of dying. As to the manner of hisdeath it is difficult to speak; you see what people suspect. Thus much, however, I may say: Scipio in his lifetime saw many days of supremetriumph and exultation, but none more magnificent than his last, onwhich, upon the rising of the Senate, he was escorted by the senatorsand the people of Rome, by the allies, and by the Latins, to his owndoor. From such an elevation of popular esteem the next step seemsnaturally to be an ascent to the gods above, rather than a descent toHades. 

4. For I am not one of these modern philosophers who maintain that oursouls perish with our bodies, and that death ends all. With me ancientopinion has more weight: whether it be that of our own ancestors, whoattributed such solemn observances to the dead, as they plainly wouldnot have done if they had believed them to be wholly annihilated; orthat of the philosophers who once visited this country, and who by theirmaxims and doctrines educated Magna Graecia, which at that time was in aflourishing condition, though it has now been ruined; or that of the manwho was declared by Apollo's oracle to be "most wise, " and who used toteach without the variation which is to be found in most philosophersthat "the souls of men are divine, and that when they have quitted thebody a return to heaven is open to them, least difficult to those whohave been most virtuous and just. " This opinion was shared by Scipio. Only a few days before his death--as though he had a presentimentof what was coming--he discoursed for three days on the state of therepublic. The company consisted of Philus and Manlius and severalothers, and I had brought you, Scaevola, along with me. The last part ofhis discourse referred principally to the immortality of the soul; forhe told us what he had heard from the elder Africanus in a dream. Now ifit be true that in proportion to a man's goodness the escape from whatmay be called the prison and bonds of the flesh is easiest, whom canwe imagine to have had an easier voyage to the gods than Scipio? I amdisposed to think, therefore, that in his case mourning would be a signof envy rather than of friendship. If, however, the truth rather is thatthe body and soul perish together, and that no sensation remains, thenthough there is nothing good in death, at least there is nothing bad. Remove sensation, and a man is exactly as though he had never been born;and yet that this man was born is a joy to me, and will be a subject ofrejoicing to this State to its last hour. 

Wherefore, as I said before, all is as well as possible with him. Not sowith me; for as I entered life before him, it would have been fairerfor me to leave it also before him. Yet such is the pleasure I takein recalling our friendship, that I look upon my life as having been ahappy one because I have spent it with Scipio. With him I was associatedin public and private business; with him I lived in Rome and servedabroad; and between us there was the most complete harmony in ourtastes, our pursuits, and our sentiments, which is the true secret offriendship. It is not therefore in that reputation for wisdom mentionedjust now by Fannius--especially as it happens to be groundless--thatI find my happiness so much, as in the hope that the memory of ourfriendship will be lasting. What makes me care the more about this isthe fact that in all history there are scarcely three or four pairs offriends on record; and it is classed with them that I cherish a hope ofthe friendship of Scipio and Laelius being known to posterity. 

_Fannius_. Of course that must be so, Laelius. But since you havementioned the word friendship, and we are at leisure, you would be doingme a great kindness, and I expect Scaevola also, if you would do as itis your habit to do when asked questions on other subjects, and tellus your sentiments about friendship, its nature, and the rules to beobserved in regard to it. 

_Scaevola_. I shall of course be delighted. Fannius has anticipated thevery request I was about to make. So you will be doing us both a greatfavour. 

5. _Laelius_. I should certainly have no objection if I felt confidencein myself. For the theme is a noble one, and we are (as Fannius hassaid) at leisure. But who am I? and what ability have I? What youpropose is all very well for professional philosophers, who are used, particularly if Greeks, to have the subject for discussion proposed tothem on the spur of the moment. It is a task of considerable difficulty, and requires no little practice. Therefore for a set discourse onfriendship you must go, I think, to professional lecturers. All I cando is to urge on you to regard friendship as the greatest thing in theworld; for there is nothing which so fits in with our nature, or is soexactly what we want in prosperity or adversity. 

But I must at the very beginning lay down this principle--_friendshipcan only exist between good men_. I do not, however, press thistoo closely, like the philosophers who push their definitions to asuperfluous accuracy. They have truth on their side, perhaps, but it isof no practical advantage. Those, I mean, who say that no one but the"wise" is "good. " Granted, by all means. But the "wisdom" they mean isone to which no mortal ever yet attained. We must concern ourselveswith the facts of everyday life as we find it--not imaginary andideal perfections. Even Gaius Fannius, Manius Curius, and TiberiusCoruncanius, whom our ancestors decided to be "wise, " I could neverdeclare to be so according to their standard. Let them, then, keepthis word "wisdom" to themselves. Everybody is irritated by it; no oneunderstands what it means. Let them but grant that the men I mentionedwere "good. " No, they won't do that either. No one but the "wise" can beallowed that title, say they. Well, then, let us dismiss them and manageas best we may with our own poor mother wit, as the phrase is. 

We mean then by the "good" _those whose actions and lives leave noquestion as to their honour, purity, equity, and liberality; who arefree from greed, lust, and violence; and who have the courage of theirconvictions_. The men I have just named may serve as examples. Such menas these being generally accounted "good, " let us agree to call them so, on the ground that to the best of human ability they follow nature asthe most perfect guide to a good life. 

Now this truth seems clear to me, that nature has so formed us thata certain tie unites us all, but that this tie becomes stronger fromproximity. So it is that fellow-citizens are preferred in our affectionsto foreigners, relations to strangers; for in their case Nature herselfhas caused a kind of friendship to exist, though it is one which lackssome of the elements of permanence. Friendship excels relationship inthis, that whereas you may eliminate affection from relationship, youcannot do so from friendship. Without it relationship still exists inname, friendship does not. You may best understand this friendship byconsidering that, whereas the merely natural ties uniting the human raceare indefinite, this one is so concentrated, and confined to so narrow asphere, that affection is ever shared by two persons only or at most bya few. 

6. Now friendship may be thus defined: a complete accord on all subjectshuman and divine, joined with mutual goodwill and affection. And withthe exception of wisdom, I am inclined to think nothing better than thishas been given to man by the immortal gods. There are people who givethe palm to riches or to good health, or to power and office, many evento sensual pleasures. This last is the ideal of brute beasts; and of theothers we may say that they are frail and uncertain, and depend less onour own prudence than on the caprice of fortune. Then there are thosewho find the "chief good" in virtue. Well, that is a noble doctrine. Butthe very virtue they talk of is the parent and preserver of friendship, and without it friendship cannot possibly exist. 

Let us, I repeat, use the word virtue in the ordinary acceptation andmeaning of the term, and do not let us define it in high-flown language. Let us account as good the persons usually considered so, such asPaulus, Cato, Gallus, Scipio, and Philus. Such men as these are goodenough for everyday life; and we need not trouble ourselves about thoseideal characters which are nowhere to be met with. 

Well, between men like these the advantages of friendship are almostmore than I can say. To begin with, how can life be worth living, to usethe words of Ennius, which lacks that repose which is to be found in themutual good-will of a friend? What can be more delightful than tohave some one to whom you can say everything with the same absoluteconfidence as to yourself? Is not prosperity robbed of half its value ifyou have no one to share your joy? On the other hand, misfortuneswould be hard to bear if there were not some one to feel them even moreacutely than yourself. In a word, other objects of ambition serve forparticular ends--riches for use, power for securing homage, office forreputation, pleasure for enjoyment, health for' freedom from pain andthe full use of the functions of the body. But friendship embracesinnumerable advantages. Turn which way you please, you will find it athand. It is everywhere; and yet never out of place, never unwelcome. Fire and water themselves, to use a common expression, are not of moreuniversal use than friendship. I am not now speaking of the commonor modified form of it, though even that is a source of pleasure andprofit, but of that true and complete friendship which existedbetween the select few who are known to fame. Such friendship enhancesprosperity, and relieves adversity of its burden by halving and sharingit. 

7. And great and numerous as are the blessings of friendship, thiscertainly is the sovereign one, that it gives us bright hopes for thefuture and forbids weakness and despair. In the face of a true friend aman sees as it were a second self. So that where his friend is he is;if his friend be rich, he is not poor; though he be weak, his friend'sstrength is his; and in his friend's life he enjoys a second lifeafter his own is finished. This last is perhaps the most difficult toconceive. But such is the effect of the respect, the loving remembrance, and the regret of friends which follow us to the grave. While they takethe sting out of death, they add a glory to the life of the survivors. Nay, if you eliminate from nature the tie of affection, there will be anend of house and city, nor will so much as the cultivation of the soilbe left. If you don't see the virtue of friendship and harmony, you maylearn it by observing the effects of quarrels and feuds. Was any familyever so well established, any State so firmly settled, as to be beyondthe reach of utter destruction from animosities and factions? This mayteach you the immense advantage of friendship. 

They say that a certain philosopher of Agrigentum, in a Greek poem, pronounced with the authority of an oracle the doctrine that whatever innature and the universe was unchangeable was so in virtue of the bindingforce of friendship; whatever was changeable was so by the solvent powerof discord. And indeed this is a truth which everybody understands andpractically attests by experience. For if any marked instance of loyalfriendship in confronting or sharing danger comes to light, every oneapplauds it to the echo. What cheers there were, for instance, allover the theatre at a passage in the new play of my friend and guestPacuvius; where the king, not knowing which of the two was Orestes, Pylades declared himself to be Orestes, that he might die in his stead, while the real Orestes kept on asserting that it was he. The audiencerose _en masse_ and clapped their hands. And this was at an incident infiction: what would they have done, must we suppose, if it had been inreal life? You can easily see what a natural feeling it is, when menwho would not have had the resolution to act thus themselves, shewed howright they thought it in another. 

I don't think I have any more to say about friendship. If there is anymore, and I have no doubt there is much, you must, if you care to do so, consult those who profess to discuss such matters. 

_Fannius_. We would rather apply to you. Yet I have often consultedsuch persons, and have heard what they had to say with a certainsatisfaction. But in your discourse one somehow feels that there is adifferent strain. 

_Scaevola_. You would have said that still more, Fannius, if you hadbeen present the other day in Scipio's pleasure-grounds when we hadthe discussion about the State. How splendidly he stood up for justiceagainst Philus's elaborate speech. 

_Fannius_. Ah! it was naturally easy for the justest of men to stand upfor justice. 

_Scaevola_. Well, then, what about friendship? Who could discourse onit more easily than the man whose chief glory is a friendship maintainedwith the most absolute fidelity, constancy, and integrity?

8. _Laclius_. Now you are really using force. It makes no differencewhat kind of force you use: force it is. For it is neither easy norright to refuse a wish of my sons-in-law, particularly when the wish isa creditable one in itself. 

Well, then, it has very often occurred to me when thinking aboutfriendship, that the chief point to be considered was this: is itweakness and want of means that make friendship desired? I mean, is itsobject an interchange of good offices, so that each may give that inwhich he is strong, and receive that in which he is weak? Or is it notrather true that, although this is an advantage naturally belonging tofriendship, yet its original cause is quite other, prior in time, morenoble in character, and springing more directly from our nature itself?The Latin word for friendship--_amicitia_--is derived from that forlove--_amor_; and love is certainly the prime mover in contractingmutual affection. For as to material advantages, it often happensthat those are obtained even by men who are courted by a mere showof friendship and treated with respect from interested motives. Butfriendship by its nature admits of no feigning, no pretence: as faras it goes it is both genuine and spontaneous. Therefore I gather thatfriendship springs from a natural impulse rather than a wish for help:from an inclination of the heart, combined with a certain instinctivefeeling of love, rather than from a deliberate calculation of thematerial advantage it was likely to confer. The strength of thisfeeling you may notice in certain animals. They show such love to theiroffspring for a certain period, and are so beloved by them, that theyclearly have a share in this natural, instinctive affection. But ofcourse it is more evident in the case of man: first, in the naturalaffection between children and their parents, an affection which onlyshocking wickedness can sunder; and next, when the passion of love hasattained to a like strength--on our finding, that is, some one personwith whose character and nature we are in full sympathy, because wethink that we perceive in him what I may call the beacon-light ofvirtue. For nothing inspires love, nothing conciliates affection, likevirtue. Why, in a certain sense we may be said to feel affection evenfor men we have never seen, owing to their honesty and virtue. Who, forinstance, fails to dwell on the memory of Gaius Fabricius and ManiusCurius with some affection and warmth of feeling, though he has neverseen them? Or who but loathes Tarquinius Superbus, Spurius Cassius, Spurius Maelius? We have fought for empire in Italy with two greatgenerals, Pyrrhus and Hannibal. For the former, owing to his probity, weentertain no great feelings of enmity: the latter, owing to his cruelty, our country has detested and always will detest. 

9. Now, if the attraction of probity is so great that we can love it notonly in those whom we have never seen, but, what is more, actually in anenemy, we need not be surprised if men's affections are roused when theyfancy that they have seen virtue and goodness in those with whom a closeintimacy is possible. I do not deny that affection is strengthened bythe actual receipt of benefits, as well as by the perception of a wishto render service, combined with a closer intercourse. When these areadded to the original impulse of the heart, to which I have alluded, a quite surprising warmth of feeling springs up. And if any one thinksthat this comes from a sense of weakness, that each may have some oneto help him to his particular need, all I can say is that, when hemaintains it to be born of want and poverty, he allows to friendship anorigin very base, and a pedigree, if I may be allowed the expression, far from noble. If this had been the case, a man's inclination tofriendship would be exactly in proportion to his low opinion of his ownresources. Whereas the truth is quite the other way. For when a man'sconfidence in himself is greatest, when he is so fortified by virtue andwisdom as to want nothing and to feel absolutely self-dependent, itis then that he is most conspicuous for seeking out and keeping upfriendships. Did Africanus, for example, want anything of me? Notthe least in the world! Neither did I of him. In my case it wasan admiration of his virtue, in his an opinion, may be, which heentertained of my character, that caused our affection. Closer intimacyadded to the warmth of our feelings. But though many great materialadvantages did ensue, they were not the source from which our affectionproceeded. For as we are not beneficent and liberal with any viewof extorting gratitude, and do not regard an act of kindness as aninvestment, but follow a natural inclination to liberality; so we lookon friendship as worth trying for, not because we are attracted to it bythe expectation of ulterior gain, but in the conviction that what it hasto give us is from first to last included in the feeling itself. 

Far different is the view of those who, like brute beasts, refereverything to sensual pleasure. And no wonder. Men who have degradedall their powers of thought to an object so mean and contemptible can ofcourse raise their eyes to nothing lofty, to nothing grand and divine. Such persons indeed let us leave out of the present question. And letus accept the doctrine that the sensation of love and the warmth ofinclination have their origin in a spontaneous feeling which arisesdirectly the presence of probity is indicated. When once men haveconceived the inclination, they of course try to attach themselves tothe object of it, and move themselves nearer and nearer to him. Theiraim is that they may be on the same footing and the same level in regardto affection, and be more inclined to do a good service than to ask areturn, and that there should be this noble rivalry between them. Thus both truths will be established. We shall get the most importantmaterial advantages from friendship; and its origin from a naturalimpulse rather than from a sense of need will be at once more dignifiedand more in accordance with fact. For if it were true that its materialadvantages cemented friendship, it would be equally true that any changein them would dissolve it. But nature being incapable of change, itfollows that genuine friendships are eternal. 

So much for the origin of friendship. But perhaps you would not care tohear any more. 

_Fannius_. Nay, pray go on; let us have the rest, Laelius. I take onmyself to speak for my friend here as his senior. 

_Scaevola_. Quite right! Therefore, pray let us hear. 

10. _Loelius_. Well, then, my good friends, listen to some conversationsabout friendship which very frequently passed between Scipio and myself. I must begin by telling you, however, that he used to say that the mostdifficult thing in the world was for a friendship to remain unimpairedto the end of life. So many things might intervene: conflictinginterests; differences of opinion in politics; frequent changes incharacter, owing sometimes to misfortunes, sometimes to advancing years. He used to illustrate these facts from the analogy of boyhood, sincethe warmest affections between boys are often laid aside with the boyishtoga; and even if they did manage to keep them up to adolescence, theywere sometimes broken by a rivalry in courtship, or for some otheradvantage to which their mutual claims were not compatible. Even if thefriendship was prolonged beyond that time, yet it frequently received arude shock should the two happen to be competitors for office. For whilethe most fatal blow to friendship in the majority of cases was the lustof gold, in the case of the best men it was a rivalry for office andreputation, by which it had often happened that the most violent enmityhad arisen between the closest friends. 

Again, wide breaches and, for the most part, justifiable ones werecaused by an immoral request being made of friends, to pander to a man'sunholy desires or to assist him in inflicting a wrong. A refusal, thoughperfectly right, is attacked by those to whom they refuse complianceas a violation of the laws of friendship. Now the people who have noscruples as to the requests they make to their friends, thereby allowthat they are ready to have no scruples as to what they will do fortheir friends; and it is the recriminations of such people whichcommonly not only quench friendships, but give rise to lasting enmities. "In fact, " he used to say, "these fatalities overhang friendship in suchnumbers that it requires not only wisdom but good luck also to escapethem all. "

11. With these premises, then, let us first, if you please, examinethe question--how far ought personal feeling to go in friendship? Forinstance: suppose Coriolanus to have had friends, ought they to havejoined him in invading his country? Again, in the case of Vecellinusor Spurius Maelius, ought their friends to have assisted them in theirattempt to establish a tyranny? Take two instances of either line ofconduct. When Tiberius Gracchus attempted his revolutionary measures hewas deserted, as we saw, by Quintus Tubero and the friends of his ownstanding. On the other hand, a friend of your own family, Scaevola, Gains Blossius of Cumae, took a different course. I was acting asassessor to the consuls Laenas and Rupilius to try the conspirators, and Blossius pleaded for my pardon on the ground that his regard forTiberius Gracchus had been so high that he looked upon his wishes aslaw. "Even if he had wished you to set fire to the Capitol?" said I. "That is a thing, " he replied, "that he never would have wished. " "Ah, but if he had wished it?" said I. "I would have obeyed. " The wickednessof such a speech needs no comment. And in point of fact he was as goodand better than his word for he did not wait for orders in the audaciousproceedings of Tiberius Gracchus, but was the head and front of them, and was a leader rather than an abettor of his madness. The resultof his infatuation was that he fled to Asia, terrified by the specialcommission appointed to try him, joined the enemies of his country, andpaid a penalty to the republic as heavy as it was deserved. I conclude, then, that the plea of having acted in the interests of a friend is nota valid excuse for a wrong action. For, seeing that a belief in a man'svirtue is the original cause of friendship, friendship can hardly remainif virtue he abandoned. But if we decide it to be right to grant ourfriends whatever they wish, and to ask them for whatever we wish, perfect wisdom must be assumed on both sides if no mischief is tohappen. But we cannot assume this perfect wisdom; for we are speakingonly of such friends as are ordinarily to be met with, whether we haveactually seen them or have been told about them--men, that is to say, ofeveryday life. I must quote some examples of such persons, taking careto select such as approach nearest to our standard of wisdom. We read, for instance, that Papus Aemilius was a close friend of Gaius Luscinus. History tells us that they were twice consuls together, and colleaguesin the censorship. Again, it is on record that Manius Curius andTiberius Coruncanius were on the most intimate terms with them and witheach other. Now, we cannot even suspect that any one of these men everasked of his friend anything that militated against his honour or hisoath or the interests of the republic. In the case of such men as thesethere is no point in saying that one of them would not have obtainedsuch a request if he had made it; for they were men of the mostscrupulous piety, and the making of such a request would involve abreach of religious obligation no less than the granting it. However, it is quite true that Gaius Carbo and Gaius Cato did follow TiberiusGracchus; and though his brother Caius Gracchus did not do so at thetime, he is now the most eager of them all. 

12. We may then lay down this rule of friendship--neither ask norconsent to do what is wrong. For the plea "for friendship's sake" is adiscreditable one, and not to be admitted for a moment. This ruleholds good for all wrong-doing, but more especially in such as involvesdisloyalty to the republic. For things have come to such a point withus, my dear Fannius and Scaevola, that we are bound to look somewhat farahead to what is likely to happen to the republic. The constitution, asknown to our ancestors, has already swerved somewhat from the regularcourse and the lines marked out for it. Tiberius Gracchus made anattempt to obtain the power of a king, or, I might rather say, enjoyedthat power for a few months. Had the Roman people ever heard or seenthe like before? What the friends and connexions that followed him, evenafter his death, have succeeded in doing in the case of Publius ScipioI cannot describe without tears. As for Carbo, thanks to the punishmentrecently inflicted on Tiberius Gracchus, we have by hook or by crookmanaged to hold out against his attacks. But what to expect of thetribuneship of Caius Gracchus I do not like to forecast. One thingleads to another; and once set going, the downward course proceeds withever-increasing velocity. There is the case of the ballot: what a blowwas inflicted first by the lex Gabinia, and two years afterwards by thelex Cassia! I seem already to see the people estranged from the Senate, and the most important affairs at the mercy of the multitude. For youmay be sure that more people will learn how to set such things in motionthan how to stop them. What is the point of these remarks? This: no oneever makes any attempt of this sort without friends to help him. Wemust therefore impress upon good men that, should they become inevitablyinvolved in friendships with men of this kind, they ought not toconsider themselves under any obligation to stand by friends who aredisloyal to the republic. Bad men must have the fear of punishmentbefore their eyes: a punishment not less severe for those who followthan for those who lead others to crime. Who was more famous andpowerful in Greece than Themistocles? At the head of the army in thePersian war he had freed Greece; he owed his exile to personal envy: buthe did not submit to the wrong done him by his ungrateful country ashe ought to have done. He acted as Coriolanus had acted among us twentyyears before. But no one was found to help them in their attacks upontheir fatherland. Both of them accordingly committed suicide. 

We conclude, then, not only that no such confederation of evillydisposed men must be allowed to shelter itself under the plea offriendship, but that, on the contrary, it must be visited with theseverest punishment, lest the idea should prevail that fidelity to afriend justifies even making war upon one's country. And this is a casewhich I am inclined to think, considering how things are beginning togo, will sooner or later arise. And I care quite as much what the stateof the constitution will be after my death as what it is now. 

13. Let this, then, be laid down as the first law of friendship, that_we should ask from friends, and do for friends', only what is good_. But do not let us wait to be asked either: let there be ever an eagerreadiness, and an absence of hesitation. Let us have the courage to giveadvice with candour. In friendship, let the influence of friends whogive good advice be paramount; and let this influence be used to enforceadvice not only in plain-spoken terms, but sometimes, if the casedemands it, with sharpness; and when so used, let it be obeyed. 

I give you these rules because I believe that some wonderful opinionsare entertained by certain persons who have, I am told, a reputation forwisdom in Greece. There is nothing in the world, by the way, beyond thereach of their sophistry. Well, some of them teach that we should avoidvery close friendships, for fear that one man should have to endure theanxieties of several. Each man, say they, has enough and to spare on hisown hands; it is too bad to be involved in the cares of other people. The wisest course is to hold the reins of friendship as loose aspossible; you can then tighten or slacken them at your will. For thefirst condition of a happy life is freedom from care, which no one'smind can enjoy if it has to travail, so to speak, for others besidesitself. Another sect, I am told, gives vent to opinions still lessgenerous. I briefly touched on this subject just now. They affirm thatfriendships should be sought solely for the sake of the assistance theygive, and not at all from motives of feeling and affection; and thattherefore just in proportion as a man's power and means of support arelowest, he is most eager to gain friendships: thence it comes that weakwomen seek the support of friendship more than men, the poor more thanthe rich, the unfortunate rather than those esteemed prosperous. Whatnoble philosophy! You might just as well take the sun out of the sky asfriendship from life; for the immortal gods have given us nothing betteror more delightful. 

But let us examine the two doctrines. What is the value of this"freedom from care"? It is very tempting at first sight, but in practiceit has in many cases to be put on one side. For there is no businessand no course of action demanded from us by our honour which you canconsistently decline, or lay aside when begun, from a mere wish toescape from anxiety. Nay, if we wish to avoid anxiety we must avoidvirtue itself, which necessarily involves some anxious thoughts inshowing its loathing and abhorrence for the qualities which are oppositeto itself--as kindness for ill-nature, self-control for licentiousness, courage for cowardice. Thus you may notice that it is the just who aremost pained at injustice, the brave at cowardly actions, the temperateat depravity. It is then characteristic of a rightly ordered mind to bepleased at what is good and grieved at the reverse. Seeing then that thewise are not exempt from the heart-ache (which must be the case unlesswe suppose all human nature rooted out of their hearts), why should webanish friendship from our lives, for fear of being involved by itin some amount of distress? If you take away emotion, what differenceremains I don't say between a man and a beast, but between a man and astone or a log of wood, or anything else of that kind?

Neither should we give any weight to the doctrine that virtue issomething rigid and unyielding as iron. In point of fact it is in regardto friendship, as in so many other things, so supple and sensitive thatit expands, so to speak, at a friend's good fortune, contracts at hismisfortunes. We conclude then that mental pain which we must oftenencounter on a friend's account is not of sufficient consequence tobanish friendship from our life, any more than it is true that thecardinal virtues are to be dispensed with because they involve certainanxieties and distresses. 

14. Let me repeat then, "the clear indication of virtue, to which amind of like character is naturally attracted, is the beginning offriendship. " When that is the case the rise of affection is a necessity. For what can be more irrational than to take delight in many objectsincapable of response, such as office, fame, splendid buildings, andpersonal decoration, and yet to take little or none in a sentient beingendowed with virtue, which has the faculty of loving or, if I may usethe expression, loving back? For nothing is really more delightful thana return of affection, and the mutual interchange of kind feelingand good offices. And if we add, as we may fairly do, that nothing sopowerfully attracts and draws one thing to itself as likeness does tofriendship, it wilt at once be admitted to be true that the good lovethe good and attach them to themselves as though they were united byblood and nature. For nothing can be more eager, or rather greedy, forwhat is like itself than nature. So, my dear Fannius and Scaevola, wemay look upon this as an established fact, that between good men thereis, as it were of necessity, a kindly feeling, which is the source offriendship ordained by nature. But this same kindliness affects the manyalso. For that is no unsympathetic or selfish or exclusive virtue, whichprotects even whole nations and consults their best interests. And thatcertainly it would not have done had it disdained all affection for thecommon herd. 

Again, the believers in the "interest" theory appear to me to destroythe most attractive link in the chain of friendship. For it is not somuch what one gets by a friend that gives one pleasure, as the warmthof his feeling; and we only care for a friend's service if it has beenprompted by affection. And so far from its being true that lack of meansis a motive for seeking friendship, it is usually those who being mostrichly endowed with wealth and means, and above all with virtue (which, after all, is a man's best support), are least in need of another, thatare most openhanded and beneficent. Indeed I am inclined to think thatfriends ought at times to be in want of something. For instance, whatscope would my affections have had if Scipio had never wanted my adviceor co-operation at home or abroad? It is not friendship, then, thatfollows material advantage, but material advantage friendship. 

15. We must not therefore listen to these superfine gentlemen when theytalk of friendship, which they know neither in theory nor in practice. For who, in heaven's name, would choose a life of the greatest wealthand abundance on condition of neither loving or being beloved by anycreature? That is the sort of life tyrants endure. They, of course, cancount on no fidelity, no affection, no security for the goodwill ofany one. For them all is suspicion and anxiety; for them there is nopossibility of friendship. Who can love one whom he fears, or by whom heknows that he is feared? Yet such men have a show of friendship offeredthem, but it is only a fair-weather show. If it ever happen that theyfall, as it generally does, they will at once understand how friendlessthey are. So they say Tarquin observed in his exile that he never knewwhich of his friends were real and which sham, until he had ceased tobe able to repay either. Though what surprises me is that a man of hisproud and overbearing character should have a friend at all. And as itwas his character that prevented his having genuine friends, so it oftenhappens in the case of men of unusually great means--their very wealthforbids faithful friendships. For not only is Fortune blind herself;but she generally makes those blind also who enjoy her favours. They arecarried, so to speak, beyond themselves with self-conceit and self-will;nor can anything be more perfectly intolerable than a successful fool. You may often see it. Men who before had pleasant manners enough undergoa complete change on attaining power of office. They despise their oldfriends: devote themselves to new. 

Now, can anything be more foolish than that men who have all theopportunities which prosperity, wealth, and great means can bestow, should secure all else which money can buy--horses, servants, splendidupholstering, and costly plate--but do not secure friends, who are, ifI may use the expression, the most valuable and beautiful furnitureof life? And yet, when they acquire the former, they know not who willenjoy them, nor for whom they may be taking all this trouble; for theywill one and all eventually belong to the strongest: while each man hasa stable and inalienable ownership in his friendships. And even if thosepossessions, which are, in a manner, the gifts of fortune, do provepermanent, life can never be anything but joyless which is without theconsolations and companionship of friends. 

16. To turn to another branch of our subject. We must now endeavourto ascertain what limits are to be observed in friendship--what is theboundary-line, so to speak, beyond which our affection is not to go. Onthis point I notice three opinions, with none of which I agree. One is_that we should love our friend just as much as we love ourselves, andno more; another, that our affection to them should exactly correspondand equal theirs to us; a third, that a man should be valued at exactlythe same rate as he values himself_. To not one of these opinions do Iassent. The first, which holds that our regard for ourselves is to bethe measure of our regard for our friend, is not true; for how manythings there are which we would never have done for our own sakes, butdo for the sake of a friend! We submit to make requests from unworthypeople, to descend even to supplication; to be sharper in invective, more violent in attack. Such actions are nut creditable in our owninterests, but highly so in those of our friends. There are manyadvantages too which men of upright character voluntarily forego, orof which they are content to be deprived, that their friends may enjoythem rather than themselves. 

The second doctrine is that which limits friendship to an exact equalityin mutual good offices and good feelings. But such a view reducesfriendship to a question of figures in a spirit far too narrow andilliberal, as though the object were to have an exact balance ina debtor and creditor account. True friendship appears to me to besomething richer and more generous than that comes to; and not to be sonarrowly on its guard against giving more than it receives. In such amatter we must not be always afraid of something being wasted or runningover in our measure, or of more than is justly due being devoted to ourfriendship. 

But the last limit proposed is the worst, namely, that a friend'sestimate of himself is to be the measure of our estimate of him. Itoften happens that a man has too humble an idea of himself, or takes toodespairing a view of his chance of bettering his fortune. In such a casea friend ought not to take the view of him which he takes of himself. Rather he should do all he can to raise his drooping spirits, and leadhim to more cheerful hopes and thoughts. 

We must then find some other limit. But I must first mention thesentiment which used to call forth Scipio's severest criticism. He oftensaid that no one ever gave utterance to anything more diametricallyopposed to the spirit of friendship than the author of the dictum, "Youshould love your friend with the consciousness that you may one dayhate him. " He could not be induced to believe that it was rightfullyattributed to Bias, who was counted as one of the Seven Sages. It wasthe sentiment of some person with sinister motives or selfish ambition, or who regarded everything as it affected his own supremacy. How can aman be friends with another, if he thinks it possible that he may be hisenemy? Why, it will follow that he must wish and desire his friendto commit as many mistakes as possible, that he may have all themore handles against him; and, conversely, that he must be annoyed, irritated, and jealous at the right actions or good fortune of hisfriends. This maxim, then, let it be whose it will, is the utterdestruction of friendship. The true rule is to take such care in theselection of our friends as never to enter upon a friendship with a manwhom we could under any circumstances come to hate. And even if we areunlucky in our choice, we must put up with it--according to Scipio--inpreference to making calculations as to a future breach. 

17. The real limit to be observed in friendship is this: the charactersof two friends must be stainless. There must be complete harmony ofinterests, purpose, and aims, without exception. Then if the case arisesof a friend's wish (not strictly right in itself) calling for support ina matter involving his life or reputation, we must make some concessionfrom the straight path--on condition, that is to say, that extremedisgrace is not the consequence. Something must be conceded tofriendship. And yet we must not be entirely careless of our reputation, nor regard the good opinion of our fellow-citizens as a weapon which wecan afford to despise in conducting the business of our life, howeverlowering it may be to tout for it by flattery and smooth words. We mustby no means abjure virtue, which secures us affection. 

But to return again to Scipio, the sole author of the discourse onfriendship. He used to complain that there was nothing on which menbestowed so little pains: that every one could tell exactly how manygoats or sheep he had, but not how many friends; and while they tookpains in procuring the former, they were utterly careless in selectingfriends, and possessed no particular marks, so to speak, or tokens bywhich they might judge of their suitability for friendship. Now thequalities we ought to look out for in making our selection are firmness, stability, constancy. There is a plentiful lack of men so endowed, andit is difficult to form a judgment without testing. Now this testingcan only be made during the actual existence of the friend-ship; forfriendship so often precedes the formation of a judgment, and makes aprevious test impossible. If we are prudent then, we shall rein in ourimpulse to affection as we do chariot horses. We make a preliminarytrial of horses. So we should of friendship; and should test ourfriends' characters by a kind of tentative friendship. It may oftenhappen that the untrustworthiness of certain men is completely displayedin a small money matter; others who are proof against a small sum aredetected if it be large. But even if some are found who think it meanto prefer money to friendship, where shall we look for those who putfriendship before office, civil or military promotions, and politicalpower, and who, when the choice lies between these things on the oneside and the claims of friendship on the other, do not give a strongpreference to the former? It is not in human nature to be indifferentto political power; and if the price men have to pay for it is thesacrifice of friendship, they think their treason will be thrown intothe shade by the magnitude of the reward. This is why true friendshipis very difficult to find among those who engage in politics and thecontest for office. Where can you find the man to prefer his friend'sadvancement to his own? And to say nothing of that, think how grievousand almost intolerable it is to most men to share political disaster. You will scarcely find anyone who can bring himself to do that. Andthough what Ennius says is quite true, --" the hour of need shews thefriend indeed, "--yet it is in these two ways that most people betraytheir untrustworthiness and inconstancy, by looking down on friends whenthey are themselves prosperous, or deserting them in their distress. Aman, then, who has shewn a firm, unshaken, and unvarying friendship inboth these contingencies we must reckon as one of a class the rarest inthe world, and all but superhuman. 

18. Now, what is the quality to look out for as a warrant for thestability and permanence of friendship? It is loyalty. Nothing thatlacks this can be stable. We should also in making our selection lookout for simplicity, a social disposition, and a sympathetic nature, moved by what moves us. These all contribute to maintain loyalty. You can never trust a character which is intricate and tortuous. Nor, indeed, is it possible for one to be trustworthy and firm who isunsympathetic by nature and unmoved by what affects ourselves. We mayadd, that he must neither take pleasure in bringing accusations againstus himself, nor believe them when they are brought. All these contributeto form that constancy which I have been endeavouring to describe. And the result is, what I started by saying, that friendship is onlypossible between good men. 

Now there are two characteristic features in his treatment of hisfriends that a good (which may be regarded as equivalent to a wise) manwill always display. First, he will be entirely without any make-believeor pretence of feeling; for the open display even of dislike ismore becoming to an ingenuous character than a studied concealment ofsentiment. Secondly, he will not only reject all accusations broughtagainst his friend by another, but he will not be suspicious himselfeither, nor be always thinking that his friend has acted improperly. Besides this, there should be a certain pleasantness in word andmanner which adds no little flavour to friendship. A gloomy temper andunvarying gravity may be very impressive; but friendship should be alittle less unbending, more indulgent and gracious, and more inclined toall kinds of good-fellowship and good-nature. 

19. But here arises a question of some little difficulty. Are there anyoccasions on which, assuming their worthiness, we should prefer new toold friends, just as we prefer young to aged horses? The answer admitsof no doubt whatever. For there should be no satiety in friendship, asthere is in other things. The older the sweeter, as in wines that keepwell. And the proverb is a true one, "You must eat many a peck of saltwith a man to be thorough friends with him. " Novelty, indeed, has itsadvantage, which we must not despise. There is always hope of fruit, as there is in healthy blades of corn. But age too must have its properposition; and, in fact, the influence of time and habit is very great. To recur to the illustration of the horse which I have just now used. Every one likes _ceteris paribus_ to use the horse to which he has beenaccustomed, rather than one that is untried and new. And it is notonly in the case of a living thing that this rule holds good, butin inanimate things also; for we like places where we have lived thelongest, even though they are mountainous and covered with forest. Buthere is another golden rule in friendship: _put yourself on a level withyour friend_. For it often happens that there are certain superiorities, as for example Scipio's in what I may call our set. Now he never assumedany airs of superiority over Philus, or Rupilius, or Mummius, orover friends of a lower rank stilt. For instance, he always shewed adeference to his brother Quintus Maximus because he was his senior, who, though a man no doubt of eminent character, was by no means his equal. He used also to wish that all his friends should be the better for hissupport. This is an example we should all follow. If any of us have anyadvantage in personal character, intellect, or fortune, we should beready to make our friends sharers and partners in it with ourselves. For instance, if their parents are in humble circumstances, if theirrelations are powerful neither in intellect nor means, we should supplytheir deficiencies and promote their rank and dignity. You know thelegends of children brought up as servants in ignorance of theirparentage and family. When they are recognized and discovered to bethe sons of gods or kings, they still retain their affection for theshepherds whom they have for many years looked upon as their parents. Much more ought this to be so in the case of real and undoubted parents. For the advantages of genius and virtue, and in short, of every kind ofsuperiority, are never realized to their fullest extent until they arebestowed upon our nearest and dearest. 

20. But the converse must also be observed. For in friendship andrelationship, just as those who possess any superiority must putthemselves on an equal footing with those who are less fortunate, sothese latter must not be annoyed at being surpassed in genius, fortune, or rank. But most people of that sort are forever either grumbling atsomething, or harping on their claims; and especially if they considerthat they have services of their own to allege involving zeal andfriendship and some trouble to themselves. People who are alwaysbringing up their services are a nuisance. The recipient ought toremember them; the performer should never mention them. In the case offriends, then, as the superior are bound to descend, so are they boundin a certain sense to raise those below them. For there are people whomake their friendship disagreeable by imagining themselves undervalued. This generally happens only to those who think that they deserve tobe so; and they ought to be shewn by deeds as well as by words thegroundlessness of their opinion. Now the measure of your benefits shouldbe in the first place your own power to bestow, and in the second placethe capacity to bear them on the part of him on whom you are bestowingaffection and help. For, however great your personal prestige may be, you cannot raise all your friends to the highest offices of the State. For instance, Scipio was able to make Publius Rupilius consul, but nothis brother Lucius. But granting that you can give anyone anything youchoose, you must have a care that it does not prove to be beyond hispowers. As a general rule, we must wait to make up our mind aboutfriendships till men's characters and years have arrived at their fullstrength and development. People must not, for instance, regard as fastfriends all whom in their youthful enthusiasm for hunting or footballthey liked for having the same tastes. By that rule, if it were a merequestion of time, no one would have such claims on our affections asnurses and slave-tutors. Not that they are to be neglected, but theystand on a different ground. It is only these mature friendships thatcan be permanent. For difference of character leads to difference ofaims, and the result of such diversity is to estrange friends. The solereason, for instance, which prevents good men from making friends withbad, or bad with good, is that the divergence of their characters andaims is the greatest possible. 

Another good rule in friendship is this: do not let an excessiveaffection hinder the highest interests of your friends. This veryoften happens. I will go again to the region of fable for an instance. Neoptolemus could never have taken Troy if he had been willing to listento Lycomedes, who had brought him up, and with many tears tried toprevent his going there. Again, it often happens that important businessmakes it necessary to part from friends: the man who tries to baulk it, because he thinks that he cannot endure the separation, is of a weakand effeminate nature, and on that very account makes but a poor friend. There are, of course, limits to what you ought to expect from a friendand to what you should allow him to demand of you. And these you musttake into calculation in every case. 

21. Again, there is such a disaster, so to speak, as having to break offfriendship. And sometimes it is one we cannot avoid. For at this pointthe stream of our discourse is leaving the intimacies of the wise andtouching on the friendship of ordinary people. It will happen at timesthat an outbreak of vicious conduct affects either a man's friendsthemselves or strangers, yet the discredit falls on the friends. Insuch cases friendships should be allowed to die out gradually by anintermission of intercourse. They should, as I have been told that Catoused to say, rather be unstitched than toni in twain; unless, indeed, the injurious conduct be of so violent and outrageous a nature asto make an instant breach and separation the only possible courseconsistent with honour and rectitude. Again, if a change in characterand aim takes place, as often happens, or if party politics produces analienation of feeling (I am now speaking, as I said a short time ago, ofordinary friendships, not of those of the wise), we shall have to be onour guard against appearing to embark upon active enmity while we onlymean to resign a friendship. For there can be nothing more discreditablethan to be at open war with a man with whom you have been intimate. Scipio, as you are aware, had abandoned his friendship for QuintusPompeius on my account; and again, from differences of opinion inpolitics, he became estranged from my colleague Metellus. In both caseshe acted with dignity and moderation, shewing that he was offendedindeed, but without Tancour. 

Our first object, then, should be to prevent a breach; our second, tosecure that, if it does occur, our friendship should seem to have dieda natural rather than a violent death. Next, we should take care thatfriendship is not converted into active hostility, from which flowpersonal quarrels, abusive language, and angry recriminations. Theselast, however, provided that they do not pass all reasonable limitsof forbearance, we ought to put up with, and, in compliment to an oldfriendship, allow the party that inflicts the injury, not the one thatsubmits to it, to be in the wrong. Generally speaking, there is but oneway of securing and providing oneself against faults and inconveniencesof this sort--not to be too hasty in bestowing our affection, and not tobestow it at all on unworthy objects. 

Now, by "worthy of friendship" I mean those who have in themselves thequalities which attract affection. This sort of man is rare; and indeedall excellent things are rare; and nothing in the world is so hard tofind as a thing entirely and completely perfect of its kind. But mostpeople not only recognize nothing as good in our life unless it isprofitable, but look upon friends as so much stock, caring most forthose by whom they hope to make most profit. Accordingly they neverpossess that most beautiful and most spontaneous friendship which mustbe sought solely for itself without any ulterior object. They failalso to learn from their own feelings the nature and the strength offriendship. For every one loves himself, not for any reward which suchlove may bring, but because he is dear to himself independently ofanything else. But unless this feeling is transferred to another, whata real friend is will never be revealed; for he is, as it were, asecond self. But if we find these two instincts shewing themselves inanimals, --whether of the air or the sea or the land, whether wild ortame, --first, a love of self, which in fact is born in everything thatlives alike; and, secondly, an eagerness to find and attach themselvesto other creatures of their own kind; and if this natural action isaccompanied by desire and by something resembling human love, how muchmore must this be the case in man by the law of his nature? For man notonly loves himself, but seeks another whose spirit he may so blend withhis own as almost to make one being of two. 

22. But most people unreasonably, not to speak of modesty, want sucha friend as they are unable to be themselves, and expect from theirfriends what they do not themselves give. The fair course is first to begood yourself, and then to look out for another of like character. Itis between such that the stability in friendship of which we have beentalking can be secured; when, that is to say, men who are united byaffection learn, first of all, to rule those passions which enslaveothers, and in the next place to take delight in fair and equitableconduct, to bear each other's burdens, never to ask each other foranything inconsistent with virtue and rectitude, and not only to serveand love but also to respect each other. I say "respect"; for if respectis gone, friendship has lost its brightest jewel. And this shows themistake of those who imagine that friendship gives a privilege tolicentiousness and sin. Nature has given us friendship as the handmaidof virtue, not as a partner in guilt: to the end that virtue, beingpowerless when isolated to reach the highest objects, might succeed indoing so in union and partnership with another. Those who enjoy in thepresent, or have enjoyed in the past, or are destined to enjoy in thefuture such a partnership as this, must be considered to have securedthe most excellent and auspicious combination for reaching nature'shighest good. This is the partnership, I say, which combines moralrectitude, fame, peace of mind, serenity: all that men think desirablebecause with them life is happy, but without them cannot be so. Thisbeing our best and highest object, we must, if we desire to attain it, devote ourselves to virtue; for without virtue we can obtain neitherfriendship nor anything else desirable. In fact, if virtue be neglected, those who imagine themselves to possess friends will find out theirerror as soon as some grave disaster forces them to make trial of them. Wherefore, I must again and again repeat, you must satisfy your judgmentbefore engaging your affections: not love first and judge afterwards. Wesuffer from carelessness in many of our undertakings: in none more thanin selecting and cultivating our friends. We put the cart before thehorse, and shut the stable door when the steed is stolen, in defianceof the old proverb. For, having mutually involved ourselves in along-standing intimacy or by actual obligations, all on a sudden somecause of offence arises and we break off our friendships in full career. 

23. It is this that makes such carelessness in a matter of supremeimportance all the more worthy of blame. I say "supreme importance, "because friendship is the one thing about the utility of which everybodywith one accord is agreed. That is not the case in regard even to virtueitself; for many people speak slightingly of virtue as though it weremere puffing and self-glorification. Nor is it the case with riches. Many look down on riches, being content with a little and takingpleasure in poor fare and dress, And as to the political offices forwhich some have a burning desire--how many entertain such a contemptfor them as to think nothing in the world more empty and trivial!

And so on with the rest; things desirable in the eyes of some areregarded by very many as worthless. But of friendship all think alike toa man, whether those have devoted themselves to politics, or those whodelight in science and philosophy, or those who follow a private way oflife and care for nothing but their own business, or those lastly whohave given themselves body and soul to sensuality--they all think, Isay, that without friendship life is no life, if they want some partof it, at any rate, to be noble. For friendship, in one way or another, penetrates into the lives of us all, and suffers no career to beentirely free from its influence. Though a man be of so churlish andunsociable a nature as to loathe and shun the company of mankind, as weare told was the case with a certain Timon at Athens, yet even he cannotrefrain from seeking some one in whose hearing he may disgorge thevenom of his bitter temper. We should see this most clearly, if it werepossible that some god should carry us away from these haunts of men, and place us somewhere in perfect solitude, and then should supply us inabundance with everything necessary to our nature, and yet take from usentirely the opportunity of looking upon a human being. Who could steelhimself to endure such a life? Who would not lose in his loneliness thezest for all pleasures? And indeed this is the point of the observationof, I think, Archytas of Tarentum. I have it third hand; men who were myseniors told me that their seniors had told them. It was this: "If a mancould ascend to heaven and get a clear view of the natural order ofthe universe, and the beauty of the heavenly bodies, that wonderfulspectacle would give him small pleasure, though nothing could beconceived more delightful if he had but had some one to whom to tellwhat he had seen. " So true it is that nature abhors isolation, and everleans upon something as a stay and support; and this is found in itsmost pleasing form in our closest friend. 

24. But though Nature also declares by so many indications what her wishand object and desire is, we yet in a manner turn a deaf ear and willnot hear her warnings. The intercourse between friends is varied andcomplex, and it must often happen that causes of suspicion and offencearise, which a wise man will sometimes avoid, at other times remove, at others treat with indulgence. The one possible cause of offencethat must be faced is when the interests of your friend and your ownsincerity are at stake. For instance, it often happens that friends needremonstrance and even reproof. When these are administered in a kindlyspirit they ought to be taken in good part. But somehow or other thereis truth in what my friend Terence says in his _Andria_:

Compliance gets us friends, plain speaking hate. 

Plain speaking is a cause of trouble, if the result of it is resentment, which is poison of friendship; but compliance is really the cause ofmuch more trouble, because by indulging his faults it lets a friendplunge into headlong ruin. But the man who is most to blame is he whoresents plain speaking and allows flattery to egg him on to his ruin. Onthis point, then, from first to last there is need of deliberation andcare. If we remonstrate, it should be without bitterness; if we reprove, there should be no word of insult. In the matter of compliance (for Iam glad to adopt Terence's word), though there should be every courtesy, yet that base kind which assists a man in vice should be far from us, for it is unworthy of a free-born man, to say nothing of a friend. It isone thing to live with a tyrant, another with a friend. But if a man'sears are so closed to plain speaking that he cannot hear to hear thetruth from a friend, we may give him up in despair. This remark ofCato's, as so many of his did, shews great acuteness: "There are peoplewho owe more to bitter enemies than to apparently pleasant friends:the former often speak the truth, the latter never. " Besides, it is astrange paradox that the recipients of advice should feel no annoyancewhere they ought to feel it, and yet feel so much where they ought not. They are not at all vexed at having committed a fault, but very angry atbeing reproved for it. On the contrary, they ought to be grieved at thecrime and glad of the correction. 

25. Well, then, if it is true that to give and receive advice--theformer with freedom and yet without bitterness, the latter with patienceand without irritation--is peculiarly appropriate to genuine friendship, it is no less true that there can be nothing more utterly subversive offriendship than flattery, adulation, and base compliance. I use as manyterms as possible to brand this vice of light-minded, untrustworthy men, whose sole object in speaking is to please without any regard to truth. In everything false pretence is bad, for it suspends and vitiates ourpower of discerning the truth. But to nothing it is so hostile as tofriendship; for it destroys that frankness without which friendship isan empty name. For the essence of friendship being that two minds becomeas one, how can that ever take place if the mind of each of the separateparties to it is not single and uniform, but variable, changeable, andcomplex? Can anything be so pliable, so wavering, as the mind of a manwhose attitude depends not only on another's feeling and wish, but onhis very looks and nods?

If one says "No, " I answer "No"; if "Yes, " I answer "Yes. " In fine, I've laid this task upon myself To echo all that's said--to quote myold friend Terence again. But he puts these words into the mouth ofa Gnatho. To admit such a man into one's intimacy at all is a sign offolly. But there are many people like Gnatho, and it is when theyare superior either in position or fortune or reputation that theirflatteries become mischievous, the weight of their position making upfor the lightness of their character. But if we only take reasonablecare, it is as easy to separate and distinguish a genuine from aspecious friend as anything else that is coloured and artificial fromwhat is sincere and genuine. A public assembly, though composed of menof the smallest possible culture, nevertheless will see clearlythe difference between a mere demagogue (that is, a flatterer anduntrustworthy citizen) and a man of principle, standing, and solidity. It was by this kind of flattering language that Gaius Papirius theother day endeavoured to tickle the ears of the assembled people, whenproposing his law to make the tribunes re-eligible. I spoke against it. But I will leave the personal question. I prefer speaking of Scipio. Good heavens! how impressive his speech was, what a majesty there wasin it! You would have pronounced him, without hesitation, to be no merehenchman of the Roman people, but their leader. However, you were there, and moreover have the speech in your hands. The result was that a lawmeant to please the people was by the people's votes rejected. Oncemore to refer to myself, you remember how apparently popular was the lawproposed by Gaius Licinius Crassus "about the election to the Collegeof Priests" in the consulship of Quintus Maximus, Scipio's brother, andLucius Mancinus. For the power of filling up their own vacancies onthe part of the colleges was by this proposal to be transferred to thepeople. It was this man, by the way, who began the practice of turningtowards the forum when addressing the people. In spite of this, however, upon my speaking on the conservative side, religion gained an easyvictory over his plausible speech. This took place in my praetorship, five years before I was elected consul, which shows that the causewas successfully maintained more by the merits of the case than by theprestige of the highest office. 

26. Now, if on a stage, such as a public assembly essentially is, where there is the amplest room for fiction and half-truths, truthnevertheless prevails if it be but fairly laid open and brought intothe light of day, what ought to happen in the case of friendship, whichrests entirely on truthfulness? Friendship, in which, unless you bothsee and show an open breast, to use a common expression, you can neithertrust nor be certain of anything--no, not even of mutual affection, since you cannot be sure of its sincerity. However, this flattery, injurious as it is, can hurt no one but the man who takes it in andlikes it. And it follows that the man to open his ears widest toflatterers is he who first flatters himself and is fondest of himself. Igrant you that Virtue naturally loves herself; for she knows herselfand perceives how worthy of love she is. But I am not now speaking ofabsolute virtue, but of the belief men have that they possess virtue. The fact is that fewer people are endowed with virtue than wish to bethought to be so. It is such people that take delight in flattery. When they are addressed in language expressly adapted to flatter theirvanity, they look upon such empty persiflage as a testimony to the truthof their own praises. It is not then properly friendship at all when theone will not listen to the truth, and the other is prepared to lie. Norwould the servility of parasites in comedy have seemed humorous to ushad there been no such things as braggart captains. "Is Thais reallymuch obliged to me?" It would have been quite enough to answer "Much, "but he must needs say "Immensely. " Your servile flatterer alwaysexaggerates what his victim wishes to be put strongly. Wherefore, though it is with those who catch at and invite it that this flatteringfalsehood is especially powerful, yet men even of soldier and steadiercharacter must be warned to be on the watch against being taken in bycunningly disguised flattery. An open flatterer any one can detect, unless he is an absolute fool the covert insinuation of the cunningand the sly is what we have to be studiously on our guard against. Hisdetection is not by any means the easiest thing in the world, forhe often covers his servility under the guise of contradiction, andflatters by pretending to dispute, and then at last giving in andallowing himself to be beaten, that the person hoodwinked may thinkhimself to have been the clearer-sighted. Now what can be more degradingthan to be thus hoodwinked? You must be on your guard against thishappening to you, like the man in the _Heiress_:

 How have I been befooled! no drivelling dotards On any stage were e'er so p1ayed upon. 

For even on the stage we have no grosser representation of folly thanthat of short-sighted and credulous old men. But somehow or other I havestrayed away from the friendship of the perfect, that is of the "wise"(meaning, of course, such "wisdom" as human nature is capable of), tothe subject of vulgar, unsubstantial friendships. Let us then return toour original theme, and at length bring that, too, to a conclusion. 

27. Well, then, Fannius and Mucius, I repeat what I said before. Itis virtue, virtue, which both creates and preserves friendship. Onit depends harmony of interest, permanence, fidelity. When Virtue hasreared her head and shewn the light of her countenance, and seen andrecognised the same light in another, she gravitates towards it, and inher turn welcomes that which the other has to shew; and from it springsup a flame which you may call love or friendship as you please. Bothwords are from the same root in Latin; and love is just the cleavingto him whom you love without the prompting of need or any view toadvantage--though this latter blossoms spontaneously on friendship, little as you may have looked for it. It is with such warmth of feelingthat I cherished Lucius Paulus, Marcus Cato, Galus Gallus, PubliusNasica, Tiberius Gracchus, my dear Scipio's father-in-law. It shineswith even greater warmth when men are of the same age, as in the case ofScipio and Lucius Furius, Publius Rupilius, Spurius Mummius, and myself. _En revanche_, in my old age I find comfort in the affection of youngmen, as in the case of yourselves and Quintus Tubero: nay more, Idelight in the intimacy of such a very young man as Publius Rutilius andAulus Verginius. And since the law of our nature and of our life is thata new generation is for ever springing up, the most desirable thing isthat along with your contemporaries, with whom you started in therace, you may also teach what is to us the goal. But in view ofthe instability and perishableness of mortal things, we should becontinually on the look-out for some to love and by whom to be loved;for if we lose affection and kindliness from our life, we lose all thatgives it charm. For me, indeed, though torn away by a sudden stroke, Scipio still lives and ever wilt live. For it was the virtue of the manthat I loved, and that has not suffered death. And it is not my eyesonly, because I had all my life a personal experience of it, that neverlose sight of it: it will shine to posterity also with undimmed glory. No one will ever cherish a nobler ambition or a loftier hope withoutthinking his memory and his image the best to put before his eyes. Ideclare that of all the blessings which either fortune or nature hasbestowed upon me I know none to compare with Scipio's friendship. Init I found sympathy in public, counsel in private business; in it too ameans of spending my leisure with unalloyed delight. Never, to the bestof my knowledge, did I offend him even in the most trivial point; neverdid I hear a word from him I could have wished unsaid. We had one house, one table, one style of living; and not only were we together on foreignservice, but in our tours also and country sojourns. Why speak ofour eagerness to be ever gaining some knowledge, to be ever learningsomething, on which we spent all our leisure hours far from the gaze ofthe world? If the recollection and memory of these things had perishedwith the man, I could not possibly have endured the regret for one soclosely united with me in life and affection. But these things have notperished; they are rather fed and strengthened by reflexion and memory. Even supposing me to have been entirely bereft of them, still my timeof life of itself brings me no small consolation: for I cannot have muchlonger now to bear this regret; and everything that is brief ought to beendurable, however severe. 

This is all I had to say on friendship. One piece of advice on parting. Make up your minds to this. Virtue (without which friendship isimpossible) is first; but next to it, and to it alone, the greatest ofall things is Friendship. 

ON OLD AGE

 1. And should my service, Titus, ease the weight Of care that wrings your heart, and draw the sting Which rankles there, what guerdon shall there he?

FOR I may address you, Atticus, in the lines in which Flamininus wasaddressed by the man, who, poor in wealth, was rich in honour's gold, though I am well assured that you are not, as Flamininus was, kept on the rack of care by night and day. 

For I know how well ordered and equable your mind is, and am fully awarethat it was not a surname alone which you brought home with you fromAthens, but its culture and good sense. And yet I have an idea that youare at times stirred to the heart by the same circumstances as myself. To console you for these is a more serious matter, and must be put offto another time. For the present I have resolved to dedicate to you anessay on Old Age. For from the burden of impending or at least advancingage, common to us both, I would do something to relieve us both thoughas to yourself I am fully aware that you support and will support it, as you do everything else, with calmness and philosophy. But directly Iresolved to write on old age, you at once occurred to me as deservinga gift of which both of us might take advantage. To myself, indeed, thecomposition of this book has been so delightful, that it has not onlywiped away all the disagreeables of old age, but has even made itluxurious and delightful too. Never, therefore, can philosophy bepraised as highly as it deserves considering that its faithful discipleis able to spend every period of his life with unruffled feelings. However, on other subjects I have spoken at large, and shall often speakagain: this hook which I herewith send you is on Old Age. I have put thewhole discourse not, as Alisto of Cos did, in the mouth of Tithonus--fora mere fable would have lacked conviction--but in that of Marcus Catowhen he was an old man, to give my essay greater weight. I representLaelius and Scipio at his house expressing surprise at his carryinghis years so lightly, and Cato answering them. If he shall seem to shewsomewhat more learning in this discourse than he generally did in hisown books, put it down to the Greek literature of which it is known thathe became an eager student in his old age. But what need of more? Cato'sown words will at once explain all I feel about old age. 

M. Cato. Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus (the younger). GaiusLaelius. 

2. _Scipio_. Many a time have I in conversation with my friend GaiusLaelius here expressed my admiration, Marcus Cato, of the eminent, nay perfect, wisdom displayed by you indeed at all points, but aboveeverything because I have noticed that old age never seemed a burden toyou, while to most old men it is so hateful that they declare themselvesunder a weight heavier than Aetna. 

_Cato_. Your admiration is easily excited, it seems, my dear Scipioand Laelius. Men, of course, who have no resources in themselves forsecuring a good and happy life find every age burdensome. But those wholook for all happiness from within can never think anything had whichnature makes inevitable. In that category before anything else comesold age, to which all wish to attain, and at which all grumble whenattained. Such is Folly's inconsistency and unreasonableness! They saythat it is stealing upon them faster than they expected. In the firstplace, who compelled them to hug an illusion? For in what respect didold age steal upon manhood faster than manhood upon childhood? In thenext place, in what way would old age have been less disagreeable tothem if they were in their eight-hundredth year than in their eightieth?For their past, however long, when once it was past, would have noconsolation for a stupid old age. Wherefore, if it is your wont toadmire my wisdom--and I would that it were worthy of your good opinionand of my own surname of Sapiens--it really consists in the fact that Ifollow Nature, the best of guides, as I would a god, and am loyal toher commands. It is not likely, if she has written the rest of the playwell, that she has been careless about the last act like some idle poet. But after all some "last" was inevitable, just as to the berries of atree and the fruits of the earth there comes in the fulness of time aperiod of decay and fall. A wise man will not make a grievance of this. To rebel against nature--is not that to fight like the giants with thegods?

_Laelius_. And yet, Cato, you will do us a very great favour (I ventureto speak for Scipio as for myself) if--since we all hope, or at leastwish, to become old men--you would allow us to learn from you in goodtime before it arrives, by what methods we may most easily acquire thestrength to support the burden of advancing age. 

_Cato_. I will do so without doubt, Laelius, especially if, as you say, it will be agreeable to you both. 

_Laelius_ We do wish very much, Cato, if it is no trouble to you, tobe allowed to see the nature of the bourne which you have reached aftercompleting a long journey, as it were, upon which we too are bound toembark. 

3. _Cato_. I will do the best I can, Laelius. It has often been myfortune to bear the complaints of my contemporaries--like will to like, you know, according to the old proverb--complaints to which men like C. Salinator and Sp. Albinus, who were of consular rank and about my time, used to give vent. They were, first, that they had lost the pleasures ofthe senses, without which they did not regard life as life at all; and, secondly, that they were neglected by those from whom they had been usedto receive attentions. Such men appear to me to lay the blame on thewrong thing. For if it had been the fault of old age, then these samemisfortunes would have befallen me and all other men of advanced years. But I have known many of them who never said a word of complaint againstold age; for they were only too glad to be freed from the bondage ofpassion, and were not at all looked down upon by their friends. The factis that the blame for all complaints of that kind is to be chargedto character, not to a particular time of life. For old men who arereasonable and neither cross-grained nor churlish find old age tolerableenough: whereas unreason and churlishness cause uneasiness at every timeof life. 

_Laelius_ It is as you say, Cato. But perhaps some one may suggest thatit is your large means, wealth, and high position that make you thinkold age tolerable: whereas such good fortune only falls to few. 

_Cato_. There is something in that, Laelius, but by no means all. Forinstance, the story is told of the answer of Themistocles in a wranglewith a certain Seriphian, who asserted that he owed his brilliantposition to the reputation of his country, not to his own. "If I hadbeen a Seriphian, " said he, "even I should never have been famous, norwould you if you had been an Athenian. " Something like this may be saidof old age. For the philosopher himself could not find old age easyto bear in the depths of poverty, nor the fool feel it anything but aburden though he were a millionaire. You may be sure, my dear Scipioand Laelius, that the arms best adapted to old age are culture and theactive exercise of the virtues. For if they have been maintained atevery period--if one has lived much as well as long--the harvest theyproduce is wonderful, not only because they never fail us even in ourlast days (though that in itself is supremely important), but alsobecause the consciousness of a well-spent life and the recollection ofmany virtuous actions are exceedingly delightful. 

4. Take the case of Q. Fabius Maximus, the man, I mean, who recoveredTarentum. When I was a young man and he an old one, I was as muchattached to him as if he had been my contemporary. For that great man 5serious dignity was tempered by courteous manners, nor had old age madeany change in his character. True, he was not exactly an old man when mydevotion to him began, yet he was nevertheless well on in life; for hisfirst consulship fell in the year after my birth. When quite a striplingI went with him in his fourth consulship as a soldier in the ranks, onthe expedition against Capua, and in the fifth year after that againstTarentum. Four years after that I was elected Quaestor, holding officein the consulship of Tuditanus and Cethegus, in which year, indeed, he as a very old man spoke in favour of the Cincian law "on gifts andfees. "

Now this man conducted wars with all the spirit of youth when he was faradvanced in life, and by his persistence gradually wearied out Hannibal, when rioting in all the confidence of youth. How brilliant are thoselines of my friend Ennius on him!

 For us, down beaten by the storms of fate, One man by wise delays restored the State. Praise or dispraise moved not his constant mood, True to his purpose, to his country's good! Down ever-lengthening avenues of fame Thus shines and shall shine still his glorious name. 

Again what vigilance, what profound skill did he show in the capture ofTarentum! It was indeed in my hearing that he made the famous retort toSalinator, who had retreated into the citadel after losing the town: "Itwas owing to me, Quintus Fabius, that you retook Tarentum. " "Quite so, "he replied with a laugh; "for had you not lost it, I should never haverecovered it. " Nor was he less eminent in civil life than in war. In hissecond consulship, though his colleague would not move in the matter, heresisted as long as he could the proposal of the tribune C. Flaminiusto divide the territory of the Picenians and Gauls in free allotments indefiance of a resolution of the Senate. Again, though he was an augur, he ventured to say that whatever was done in the interests of the Statewas done with the best possible auspices, that any laws proposed againstits interest were proposed against the auspices. I was cognisant of muchthat was admirable in that great man, but nothing struck me with greaterastonishment than the way in which he bore the death of his son--a manof brilliant character and who had been consul. His funeral speechover him is in wide circulation, and when we read it, is there anyphilosopher of whom we do not think meanly? Nor in truth was he onlygreat in the light of day and in the sight of his fellow-citizens;he was still more eminent in private and at home. What a wealth ofconversation! What weighty maxims! What a wide acquaintance with ancienthistory! What an accurate knowledge of the science of augury! For aRoman, too, he had a great tincture of letters. He had a tenaciousmemory for military history of every sort, whether of Roman orforeign wars. And I used at that time to enjoy his conversation with apassionate eagerness, as though I already divined, what actually turnedout to be the case, that when he died there would be no one to teach meanything. 

5. What then is the purpose of such a long disquisition on Maximus? Itis because you now see that an old age like his cannot conscientiouslybe called unhappy. Yet it is after all true that everybody cannot be aScipio or a Maximus, with stormings of cities, with battles by land andsea, with wars in which they themselves commanded, and with triumphs torecall. Besides this there is a quiet, pure, and cultivated life whichproduces a calm and gentle old age, such as we have been told Plato'swas, who died at his writing-desk in his eighty-first year; or like thatof Isocrates, who says that he wrote the book called The Panegyric inhis ninety-fourth year, and who lived for five years afterwards; whilehis master Gorgias of Leontini completed a hundred and seven yearswithout ever relaxing his diligence or giving up work. When some oneasked him why he consented to remain so long alive--"I have no fault, "said he, "to find with old age. " That was a noble answer, and worthy ofa scholar. For fools impute their own frailties and guilt to old age, contrary to the practice of Ennui, whom I mentioned just now. In thelines--

 Like some brave steed that oft before The Olympic wreath of victory bore, Now by the weight of years oppressed, Forgets the race, and takes his rest--

he compares his own old age to that of a high-spirited and successfulrace-horse. And him indeed you may very well remember. For the presentconsuls Titus Flamininus and Manius Acilius were elected in thenineteenth year after his death; and his death occurred in theconsulship of Caepio and Philippus, the latter consul for the secondtime: in which year I, then sixty-six years old, spoke in favour ofthe Voconian law in a voice that was still strong and with lungsstill sound; while be, though seventy years old, supported two burdensconsidered the heaviest of all--poverty and old age--in such a way as tobe all but fond of them. 

The fact is that when I come to think it over, I find that there arefour reasons for old age being thought unhappy: First, that it withdrawsus from active employments; second, that it enfeebles the body; third, that it deprives us of nearly all physical pleasures; fourth, that it isthe next step to death. Of each of these reasons, if you will allow me, let us examine the force and justice separately. 

6. OLD AGE WITHDRAWS US FROM ACTIVE EMPLOYMENTS. From which of them? Doyou mean from those carried on by youth and bodily strength? Arethere then no old men's employments to be after all conducted by theintellect, even when bodies are weak? So then Q. Maximus didnothing; nor L. Aemilius--our father, Scipio, and my excellent son'sfather-in-law! So with other old men--the Fabricii, the Guru andCoruncanii--when they were supporting the State by their advice andinfluence, they were doing nothing! To old age Appius Claudius had theadditional disadvantage of being blind; yet it was he who, when theSenate was inclining towards a peace with Pyrrhus and was for making atreaty, did not hesitate to say what Ennius has embalmed in the verses:

 Whither have swerved the souls so firm of yore? Is sense grown senseless? Can feet stand no more?

And so on in a tone of the most passionate vehemence. You know thepoem, and the speech of Appius himself is extant. Now, he deliveredit seventeen years after his second consulship, there having been aninterval of ten years between the two consulships, and he having beencensor before his previous consulship. This will show you that at thetime of the war with Pyrrhus he was a very old man. Yet this is thestory handed down to us. 

There is therefore nothing in the arguments of those who say that oldage takes no part in public business. They are like men who would saythat a steersman does nothing in sailing a ship, because, while someof the crew are climbing the masts, others hurrying up and down thegangways, others pumping out the bilge water, he sits quietly in thestern holding the tiller. He does not do what young men do; neverthelesshe does what is much more important and better. The great affairs oflife are not performed by physical strength, or activity, or nimblenessof body, but by deliberation, character, expression of opinion. Of theseold age is not only not deprived, but, as a rule, has them in a greaterdegree. Unless by any chance I, who as a soldier in the ranks, asmilitary tribune, as legate, and as consul have been employed in variouskinds of war, now appear to you to be idle because not actively engagedin war. But I enjoin upon the Senate what is to be done, and how. Carthage has long been harbouring evil designs, and I accordinglyproclaim war against her in good time. I shall never cease to entertainfears about her till I bear of her having been levelled with the ground. The glory of doing that I pray that the immortal gods may reservefor you, Scipio, so that you may complete the task begun by yourgrand-father, now dead more than thirty-two years ago; though all yearsto come will keep that great man's memory green. He died in the yearbefore my censorship, nine years after my consulship, having beenreturned consul for the second time in my own consulship. If then he hadlived to his hundredth year, would he have regretted having lived to beold? For he would of course not have been practising rapid marches, nordashing on a foe, nor hurling spears from a distance, nor using swordsat close quarters--but only counsel, reason, and senatorial eloquence. And if those qualities had not resided in us _seniors_, our ancestorswould never have called their supreme council a Senate. At Sparta, indeed, those who hold the highest magistracies are in accordance withthe fact actually called "elders. " But if you will take the troubleto read or listen to foreign history, you will find that the mightiestStates have been brought into peril by young men, have been supportedand restored by old. The question occurs in the poet Naevius's _Sport_:

 Pray, who are those who brought your State With such despatch to meet its fate?

There is a long answer, but this is the chief point:

 A crop of brand-new orators we grew, And foolish, paltry lads who thought they knew. 

For of course rashness is the note of youth, prudence of old age. 

7. But, it is said, memory dwindles. No doubt, unless you keep it inpractice, or if you happen to be somewhat dull by nature. Themistocleshad the names of all his fellow-citizens by heart. Do you imagine thatin his old age he used to address Aristides as Lysimachus? For my part, I know not only the present generation, but their fathers also, andtheir grandfathers. Nor have I any fear of losing my memory by readingtombstones, according to the vulgar superstition. On the contrary, byreading them I renew my memory of those who are dead and gone. Nor, inpoint of fact, have I ever heard of any old man forgetting where he hadhidden his money. They remember everything that interests them: when toanswer to their bail, business appointments, who owes them money, andto whom they owe it. What about lawyers, pontiffs, augurs, philosophers, when old? What a multitude of things they remember! Old men retain theirintellects well enough, if only they keep their minds active and fullyemployed. Nor is that the case only with men of high position andgreat office: it applies equally to private life and peaceful pursuits. Sophocles composed tragedies to extreme old age; and being believed toneglect the care of his property owing to his devotion to his art, hissons brought him into court to get a judicial decision depriving him ofthe management of his property on the ground of weak intellect--just asin our law it is customary to deprive a paterfamilias of the managementof his property if he is squandering it. There--upon the old poet issaid to have read to the judges the play he had on hand and had justcomposed--the _Oedipus Coloneus_--and to have asked them whether theythought that the work of a man of weak intellect. After the reading hewas acquitted by the jury. Did old age then compel this man to becomesilent in his particular art, or Homer, Hesiod, Simonides, or Isocratesand Gorgias whom I mentioned before, or the founders of schools ofphilosophy, Pythagoras, Democritus, Plato, Xenocrates, or later Zeno andCleanthus, or Diogenes the Stoic, whom you too saw at Rome? Is it notrather the case with all these that the active pursuit of study onlyended with life?

But, to pass over these sublime studies, I can name some rustic Romansfrom the Sabine district, neighbours and friends of my own, without whose presence farm work of importance is scarcely everperformed--whether sowing, or harvesting or storing crops. And yet inother things this is less surprising; for no one is so old as to thinkthat he may not live a year. But they bestow their labour on what theyknow does not affect them in any case:

 He plants his trees to serve a race to come, as our poet Statius says in his Comrades. Nor indeed would a farmer, however old, hesitate to answer any one who asked him for whom he wasplanting: "For the immortal gods, whose will it was that I should notmerely receive these things from my ancestors, but should also hand themon to the next generation. "

8. That remark about the old man is better than the following:

 If age brought nothing worse than this, It were enough to mar our bliss, That he who bides for many years Sees much to shun and much for tears. 

Yes, and perhaps much that gives him pleasure too. Besides, as tosubjects for tears, he often comes upon them in youth as well. 

A still more questionable sentiment in the same Caecilius is:

 No greater misery can of age be told Than this: be sure, the young dislike the old. 

Delight in them is nearer the mark than dislike. For just as old men, ifthey are wise, take pleasure in the society of young men of good parts, and as old age is rendered less dreary for those who are courted andliked by the youth, so also do young men find pleasure in the maxims ofthe old, by which they are drawn to the pursuit of excellence. Nor doI perceive that you find my society less pleasant than I do yours. Butthis is enough to show you how, so far from being listless and sluggish, old age is even a busy time, always doing and attempting something, ofcourse of the same nature as each man's taste had been in the previouspart of his life. Nay, do not some even add to their stock of learning?We see Solon, for instance, boasting in his poems that he grows old"daily learning something new. " Or again in my own case, it was onlywhen an old man that I became acquainted with Greek literature, which infact I absorbed with such avidity--in my yearning to quench, as it were, a long-continued thirst--that I became acquainted with the very factswhich you see me now using as precedents. When I heard what Socrates haddone about the lyre I should have liked for my part to have done thattoo, for the ancients used to learn the lyre but, at any rate, I workedhard at literature. 

9. Nor, again, do I now MISS THE BODILY STRENGTH OF A YOUNG MAN (forthat was the second point as to the disadvantages of old age) any morethan as a young man I missed the strength of a bull or an elephant. Youshould use what you have, and whatever you may chance to be doing, doit with all your might. What could be weaker than Milo of Croton'sexclamation? When in his old age he was watching some athletespractising in the course, he is said to have looked at his arms and tohave exclaimed with tears in his eyes: "Ah well! these are now as goodas dead. " Not a bit more so than yourself, you trifler! For at no timewere you made famous by your real self, but by chest and biceps. Sext. Aelius never gave vent to such a remark, nor, many years before him, Titus Coruncanius, nor, more recently, P. Crassus--all of them learnedjuris-consults in active practice, whose knowledge of their professionwas maintained to their last breath. I am afraid an orator does losevigour by old age, for his art is not a matter of the intellect alone, but of lungs and bodily strength. Though as a rule that musical ringin the voice even gains in brilliance in a certain way as one growsold--certainly I have not yet lost it, and you see my years. Yetafter all the style of speech suitable to an old man is the quiet andunemotional, and it often happens that the chastened and calm deliveryof an old man eloquent secures a hearing. If you cannot attain to thatyourself, you might still instruct a Scipio and a Laelius. For what ismore charming than old age surrounded by the enthusiasm of youth? Shallwe not allow old age even the strength to teach the young, to trainand equip them for all the duties of life? And what can be a nobleremployment? For my part, I used to think Publius and Gnaeus Scipio andyour two grandfathers, L. Aemilius and P. Africanus, fortunate men whenI saw them with a company of young nobles about them. Nor should wethink any teachers of the fine arts otherwise than happy, however muchtheir bodily forces may have decayed and failed. And yet that samefailure of the bodily forces is more often brought about by the vices ofyouth than of old age; for a dissolute and intemperate youth hands downthe body to old age in a worn-out state. Xenophon's Cyrus, for instance, in his discourse delivered on his death-bed and at a very advanced age, says that he never perceived his old age to have become weaker than hisyouth had been. I remember as a boy Lucius Metellus, who having beencreated Pontifex Maximus four years after his second consulship, heldthat office twenty-two years, enjoying such excellent strength of bodyin the very last hours of his life as not to miss his youth. I need notspeak of myself; though that indeed is an old man's way and is generallyallowed to my time of life. Don't you see in Homer how frequently Nestortalks of his own good qualities? For he was living through a thirdgeneration; nor had he any reason to fear that upon saying what was trueabout himself he should appear either over vain or talkative. For, asHomer says, "from his lips flowed discourse sweeter than honey, " forwhich sweet breath he wanted no bodily strength. And yet, after all, thefamous leader of the Greeks nowhere wishes to have ten men like Ajax, but like Nestor: if he could get them, he feels no doubt of Troy shortlyfalling. 

10. But to return to my own case: I am in my eighty-fourth year. I couldwish that I had been able to make the same boast as Cyrus; but, afterall, I can say this: I am not indeed as vigorous as I was as a privatesoldier in the Punic war, or as quaestor in the same war, or as consulin Spain, and four years later when as a military tribune I took part inthe engagement at Thermopylae under the consul Manius Acilius Glabrio;but yet, as you see, old age has not entirely destroyed my muscles, hasnot quite brought me to the ground. The Senate-house does not find allmy vigour gone, nor the rostra, nor my friends, nor my clients, normy foreign guests. For I have never given in to that ancient andmuch-praised proverb:

 Old when young Is old for long. 

For myself, I had rather be an old man a somewhat shorter time thanan old man _before_ my time. Accordingly, no one up to the present haswished to see me, to whom I have been denied as engaged. But, it maybe said, I have less strength than either of you. Neither have you thestrength of the centurion T. Pontius: is he the more eminent man on thataccount? Let there be only a proper husbanding of strength, and let eachman proportion his efforts to his powers. Such an one will assuredly notbe possessed with any great regret for his loss of strength. At OlympiaMilo is said to have stepped into the course carrying a live ox onhis shoulders. Which then of the two would you prefer to have given toyou--bodily strength like that, or intellectual strength like that ofPythagoras? In fine, enjoy that blessing when you have it; when it isgone, don't wish it back--unless we are to think that young men shouldwish their childhood back, and those somewhat older their youth! Thecourse of life is fixed, and nature admits of its being run but in oneway, and only once; and to each part of our life there is somethingspecially seasonable; so that the feebleness of children, as well asthe high spirit of youth, the soberness of maturer years, and the ripewisdom of old age--all have a certain natural advantage which shouldbe secured in its proper season. I think you are informed, Scipio, whatyour grandfather's foreign friend Masinissa does to this day, thoughninety years old. When he has once begun a journey on foot he does notmount his horse at all; when on horseback he never gets off his horse. By no rain or cold can he be induced to cover his head. His body isabsolutely free from unhealthy humours, and so he still performs allthe duties and functions of a king. Active exercise, therefore, andtemperance can preserve some part of one's former strength even in oldage. 

11. Bodily strength is wanting to old age; but neither is bodilystrength demanded from old men. Therefore, both by law and custom, men of my time of life are exempt from those duties which cannot besupported without bodily strength. Accordingly not only are we notforced to do what we cannot do; we are not even obliged to do as muchas we can. But, it will be said, many old men are so feeble that theycannot perform any duty in life of any sort or kind. That is not aweakness to be set down as peculiar to old age: it is one shared by illhealth. How feeble was the son of P. Africanus, who adopted you! Whatweak health he had, or rather no health at all! If that had not beenthe case, we should have had in him a second brilliant light in thepolitical horizon; for he had added a wider cultivation to his father'sgreatness of spirit. What wonder, then, that old men are eventuallyfeeble, when even young men cannot escape it? My dear Laelius andScipio, we must stand up against old age and make up for its drawbacksby taking pains. We must fight it as we should an illness. We must lookafter our health, use moderate exercise, take just enough food and drinkto recruit, but not to overload, our strength. Nor is it the body alonethat must be supported, but the intellect and soul much more. For theyare like lamps: unless you feed them with oil, they too go out fromold age. Again, the body is apt to get gross from exercise; but theintellect becomes nimbler by exercising itself. For what Caecilius meansby "old dotards of the comic stage" are the credulous, the forgetful, and the slipshod. These are faults that do not attach to old age assuch, but to a sluggish, spiritless, and sleepy old age. Young men aremore frequently wanton and dissolute than old men; but yet, as it is notall young men that are so, but the bad set among them, even so senilefolly--usually called imbecility--applies to old men of unsoundcharacter, not to all. Appius governed four sturdy sons, five daughters, that great establishment, and all those clients, though he was both oldand blind. For he kept his mind at full stretch like a how, and nevergave in to old age by growing slack. He maintained not merely aninfluence, but an absolute command over his family: his slaves fearedhim, his sons were in awe of him, all loved him. In that family, indeed, ancestral custom and discipline were in full vigour. The fact is thatold age is respectable just as long as it asserts itself, maintains itsproper rights, and is not enslaved to any one. For as I admire a youngman who has something of the old man in him, so do I an old one who hassomething of a young man. The man who aims at this may possibly becomeold in body--in mind he never will. I am now engaged in composing theseventh book of my _Origins_. I collect all the records of antiquity. The speeches delivered in all the celebrated cases which I have defendedI am at this particular time getting into shape for publication. I amwriting treatises on augural, pontifical, and civil law. I am, besides, studying hard at Greek, and after the manner of the Pythagoreans--tokeep my memory in working order--I repeat in the evening whatever I havesaid, heard, or done in the course of each day. These are the exercisesof the intellect, these the training grounds of the mind: while I sweatand labour on these I don't much feel the loss of bodily strength. Iappear in court for my friends; I frequently attend the Senate and bringmotions before it on my own responsibility, prepared after deep andlong reflection. And these I support by my intellectual, not my bodilyforces. And if I were not strong enough to do these things, yet I shouldenjoy my sofa--imagining the very operations which I was now unable toperform. But what makes me capable of doing this is my past life. For aman who is always living in the midst of these studies and laboursdoes not perceive when old age creeps upon him. Thus, by slow andimperceptible degrees life draws to its end. There is no suddenbreakage; it just slowly goes out. 

12. The third charge against old age is that it LACKS SENSUAL PLEASURES. What a splendid service does old age render, if it takes from us thegreatest blot of youth! Listen, my dear young friends, to a speech ofArchytas of Tarentum, among the greatest and most illustrious of men, which was put into my hands when as a young man I was at Tarentumwith Q. Maximus. "No more deadly curse than sensual pleasure has beeninflicted on mankind by nature, to gratify which our wanton appetitesare roused beyond all prudence or restraint. It is a fruitful source oftreasons, revolutions, secret communications with the enemy. In fact, there is no crime, no evil deed, to which the appetite for sensualpleasures does not impel us. Fornications and adulteries, and everyabomination of that kind, are brought about by the enticements ofpleasure and by them alone. Intellect is the best gift of nature orGod: to this divine gift and endowment there is nothing so inimicalas pleasure. For when appetite is our master, there is no place forself-control; nor where pleasure reigns supreme can virtue hold itsground. To see this more vividly, imagine a man excited to the highestconceivable pitch of sensual pleasure. It can be doubtful to no one thatsuch a person, so long as he is under the influence of such excitationof the senses, will be unable to use to any purpose either intellect, reason, or thought. Therefore nothing can be so execrable and so fatalas pleasure; since, when more than ordinarily violent and lasting, itdarkens all the light of the soul. "

These were the words addressed by Archytas to the Samnite Caius Pontius, father of the man by whom the consuls Spurius Postumius and TitusVeturius were beaten in the battle of Caudium. My friend Nearchus ofTarentum, who had remained loyal to Rome, told me that he had heard themrepeated by some old men; and that Plato the Athenian was present, whovisited Tarentum, I find, in the consulship of L. Camillus and AppiusClaudius. 

What is the point of all this? It is to show you that, if we were unableto scorn pleasure by the aid of reason and philosophy, we ought to havebeen very grateful to old age for depriving us of all inclination forthat which it was wrong to do. For pleasure hinders thought, is a foe toreason, and, so to speak, blinds the eyes of the mind. It is, moreover, entirely alien to virtue. I was sorry to have to expel Lucius, brotherof the gallant Titus Flamininus, from the Senate seven years after hisconsulship; but I thought it imperative to affix a stigma on an act ofgross sensuality. For when he was in Gaul as consul, he had yielded tothe entreaties of his paramour at a dinner-party to behead a man whohappened to be in prison condemned on a capital charge. When his brotherTitus was Censor, who preceded me, he escaped; but I and Flaccus couldnot countenance an act of such criminal and abandoned lust, especiallyas, besides the personal dishonour, it brought disgrace on theGovernment. 

13. I have often been told by men older than myself, who said that theyhad heard it as boys from old men, that Gaius Fabricius was in thehabit of expressing astonishment at having heard, when envoy at theheadquarters of king Pyrrhus, from the Thessalian Cineas, that there wasa man of Athens who professed to be a "philosopher, " and affirmed thateverything we did was to be referred to pleasure. When he told this toManius Curius and Publius Decius, they used to remark that they wishedthat the Samnites and Pyrrhus himself would hold the same opinion. Itwould be much easier to conquer them, if they had once given themselvesover to sensual indulgences. Manius Curius had been intimate withP. Decius, who four years before the former's consulship had devotedhimself to death for the Republic. Both Fabricius and Coruncanius knewhim also, and from the experience of their own lives, as well as fromthe action of P. Decius, they were of opinion that there did existsomething intrinsically noble and great, which was sought for its ownsake, and at which all the best men aimed, to the contempt and neglectof pleasure. Why then do I spend so many words on the subject ofpleasure? Why, because, far from being a charge against old age, that itdoes not much feel the want of any pleasures, it is its highest praise. 

But, you will say, it is deprived of the pleasures of the table, theheaped up board, the rapid passing of the wine-cup. Well, then, it isalso free from headache, disordered digestion, broken sleep. But if wemust grant pleasure something, since we do not find it easy to resistits charms, --for Plato, with happy inspiration, calls pleasure "vice'sbait, " because of course men are caught by it as fish by a hook, --yet, although old age has to abstain from extravagant banquets, it is stillcapable of enjoying modest festivities. As a boy I often used to seeGaius Duilius the son of Marcus, then an old mali, returning froma dinner-party. He thoroughly enjoyed the frequent use of torch andflute-player, distinctions which he had assumed though unprecedented inthe case of a private person. It was the privilege of his glory. But whymention others? I will come back to my own case. To begin with, I havealways remained a member of a "club"--clubs, you know, were establishedin my quaestorship on the reception of the Magna Mater from Ida. So Iused to dine at their feast with the members of my club--on the wholewith moderation, though there was a certain warmth of temperamentnatural to my time of life; but as that advances there is a dailydecrease of all excitement. Nor was I, in fact, ever wont to measuremy enjoyment even of these banquets by the physical pleasures they gavemore than by the gathering and conversation of friends. For it wasa good idea of our ancestors to style the presence of guests at adinner-table--seeing that it implied a community of enjoyment--a_convivium_, "a living together. " It is a better term than the Greekwords which mean "a drinking together, " or, "an eating together. " Forthey would seem to give the preference to what is really the leastimportant part of it. 

14. For myself, owing to the pleasure I take in conversation, I enjoyeven banquets that begin early in the afternoon, and not only in companywith my contemporaries--of whom very few survive--but also with menof your age and with yourselves. I am thankful to old age, which hasincreased my avidity for conversation, while it has removed that foreating and drinking. But if anyone does enjoy these--not to seem to haveproclaimed war against all pleasure without exception, which is perhapsa feeling inspired by nature--I fail to perceive even in these verypleasures that old age is entirely without the power of appreciation. For myself, I take delight even in the old-fashioned appointment ofmaster of the feast; and in the arrangement of the conversation, whichaccording to ancestral custom is begun from the last place on theleft-hand couch when the wine is brought in; as also in the cups which, as in Xenophon's banquet, are small and filled by driblets; and in thecontrivance for cooling in summer, and for warming by the winter sun orwinter fire. These things I keep up even among my Sabine countrymen, andevery day have a full dinner-party of neighbours, which we prolong asfar into the night as we can with varied conversation. 

But you may urge--there is not the same tingling sensation of pleasurein old men. No doubt; but neither do they miss it so much. For nothinggives you uneasiness which you do not miss. That was a fine answer ofSophocles to a man who asked him, when in extreme old age, whether hewas still a lover. "Heaven forbid!" he replied; "I was only too glad toescape from that, as though from a boorish and insane master. " Tomen indeed who are keen after such things it may possibly appeardisagreeable and uncomfortable to be without them; but to jadedappetites it is pleasanter to lack than to enjoy. However, he cannot besaid to lack who does not want: my contention is that not to want is thepleasanter thing. 

But even granting that youth enjoys these pleasures with more zest; inthe first place, they are insignificant things to enjoy, as I have said;and in the second place, such as age is not entirely without, if itdoes not possess them in profusion. Just as a man gets greater pleasurefrom Ambivius Turpio if seated in the front row at the theatre than ifhe was in the last, yet, after all, the man in the last row does getpleasure; so youth, because it looks at pleasures at closer quarters, perhaps enjoys itself more, yet even old age, looking at them froma distance, does enjoy itself well enough. Why, what blessings arethese--that the soul, having served its time, so to speak, in thecampaigns of desire and ambition, rivalry and hatred, and all thepassions, should live in its own thoughts, and, as the expression goes, should dwell apart! Indeed, if it has in store any of what I may callthe food of study and philosophy, nothing can be pleasanter than anold age of leisure. We were witnesses to C. Gallus--a friend of yourfather's, Scipio--intent to the day of his death on mapping out the skyand land. How often did the light surprise him while still working outa problem begun during the night! How often did night find him busy onwhat he had begun at dawn! How he delighted in predicting for us solarand lunar eclipses long before they occurred! Or again in studies ofa lighter nature, though still requiring keenness of intellect, whatpleasure Naevius took in his _Punic War_! Plautus in his _Truculentus_and _Pseudolus_! I even saw Livius Andronicus, who, having produceda play six years before I was born--in the consulship of Cento andTuditanus--lived till I had become a young man. Why speak of PubliusLicinius Crassus's devotion to pontifical and civil law, or of thePublius Scipio of the present time, who within these last few dayshas been created Pontifex Maximus? And yet I have seen all whom I havementioned ardent in these pursuits when old men. Then there is MarcusCethegus, whom Ennius justly called "Persuasion's Marrow"--with whatenthusiasm did we see him exert himself in oratory even when quite old!What pleasures are there in feasts, games, or mistresses comparable topleasures such as these? And they are all tastes, too, connected withlearning, which in men of sense and good education grow with theirgrowth. It is indeed an honourable sentiment which Solon expresses in averse which I have quoted before--that he grew old learning many a freshlesson every day. Than that intellectual pleasure none certainly can begreater. 

15. I come now to the pleasures of the farmer, in which I take amazingdelight. These are not hindered by any extent of old age, and seem tome to approach nearest to' the ideal wise man's life. For he has to dealwith the earth, which never refuses its obedience, nor ever returnswhat it has received without usury; sometimes, indeed, with less, butgenerally with greater interest. For my part, however, it is not merelythe thing produced, but the earth's own force and natural productivenessthat delight me. For received in its bosom the seed scattered broadcastupon it, softened and broken up, she first keeps it concealed therein(hence the harrowing which accomplishes this gets its name from a wordmeaning "to hide"); next, when it has been warmed by her heat and closepressure, she splits it open and draws from it the greenery of theblade. This, supported by the fibres of the root, little by little growsup, and held upright by its jointed stalk is enclosed in sheaths, asbeing still immature. When it has emerged from them it produces an earof corn arranged in order, and is defended against the pecking of thesmaller birds by a regular palisade of spikes. 

Need I mention the starting, planting, and growth of vines? I can neverhave too much of this pleasure--to let you into the secret of what givesmy old age repose and amusement. For I say nothing here of the naturalforce which all things propagated from the earth possess--the earthwhich from that tiny grain in a fig, or the grape-stone in a grape, orthe most minute seeds of the other cereals and plants, produces suchhuge trunks and boughs. Mallet-shoots, slips, cuttings, quicksets, layers--are they not enough to fill anyone with delight andastonishment? The vine by nature is apt to fall, and unless supporteddrops down to the earth; yet in order to keep itself upright it embraceswhatever it reaches with its tendrils as though they were hands. Thenas it creeps on, spreading itself in intricate and wild profusion, thedresser's art prunes it with the knife and prevents it growing a forestof shoots and expanding to excess in every direction. Accordingly at thebeginning of spring in the shoots which have been left there protrudesat each of the joints what is termed an From this the grape emerges andshows itself; which, swollen by the juice of the earth and the heatof the sun, is at first very bitter to the taste, but afterwards growssweet as it matures; and being covered with tendrils is never without amoderate warmth, and yet is able to ward off the fiery heat of the sun. Can anything be richer in product or more beautiful to contemplate?It is not its utility only, as I said before, that charms me, but themethod of its cultivation and the natural process of its growth: therows of uprights, the cross-pieces for the tops of the plants, the tyingup of the vines and their propagation by layers, the pruning, to whichI have already referred, of some shoots, the setting of others. I needhardly mention irrigation, or trenching and digging the soil, which muchincrease its fertility. As to the advantages of manuring I have spokenin my book on agriculture. The learned Hesiod did not say a single wordon this subject, though he was writing on the cultivation of the soil;yet Homer, who in my opinion was many generations earlier, representsLaertes as softening his regret for his son by cultivating and manuringhis farm. Nor is it only in cornfields and meadows and vineyards andplantations that a farmer's life is made cheerful. There are the gardenand the orchard, the feeding of sheep, the swarms of bees, endlessvarieties of flowers. Nor is it only planting out that charms: thereis also grafting--surely the most ingenious invention ever made byhusbandmen. 

16. I might continue my list of the delights of country life; but evenwhat I have said I think is somewhat over long. However, you mustpardon me; for farming is a very favourite hobby of mine, and old age isnaturally rather garrulous--for I would not be thought to acquit it ofall faults. 

Well, it was in a life of this sort that Manius Curius, aftercelebrating triumphs over the Samnites, the Sabines, and Pyrrhus, spenthis last days. When I look at his villa--for it is not far from myown--I never can enough admire the man's own frugality or the spirit ofthe age. As Curius was sitting at his hearth the Samnites, who broughthim a large sum of gold, were repulsed by him; for it was not, liesaid, a fine thing in his eyes to possess gold, but to rule those whopossessed it. Could such a high spirit fail to make old age pleasant?

But to return to farmers--not to wander from my own metier. Tn thosedays there were senators, _i. E_. Old men, on their farms. For L. Quinctius Cincinnatus was actually at the plough when word was broughthim that he had been named Dictator. It was by his order as Dictator, by the way, that C. Servilius Ahala, the Master of the Horse, seizedand put to death Spurius Maelius when attempting to obtain royal power. Curius as well as other old men used to receive their summonses toattend the Senate in their farm-houses, from which circumstance thesummoners were called _viatores_ or "travellers. " Was these men's oldage an object of pity who found their pleasure in the cultivation of theland? In my opinion, scarcely any life can be more blessed, not alonefrom its utility (for agriculture is beneficial to the whole humanrace), but also as much from the mere pleasure of the thing, to whichI have already alluded, and from the rich abundance and supply of allthings necessary for the food of man and for the worship of the godsabove. So, as these are objects of desire to certain people, let usmake our peace with pleasure. For the good and hard-working farmer'swine-cellar and oil-store, as well as his larder, are always wellfilled, and his whole farm-house is richly furnished. It abounds inpigs, goats, lambs, fowls, milk, cheese, and honey. Then there is thegarden, which the farmers themselves call their "second flitch. " A zestand flavour is added to all these by hunting and fowling in spare hours. Need I mention the greenery of meadows, the rows of trees, the beautyof vineyard and olive-grove? I 'will put it briefly: nothing can eitherfurnish necessaries more richly, or present a fairer spectacle, thanwell-cultivated land. And to the enjoyment of that, old age does notmerely present no hindrance--it actually invites and allures to it. Forwhere else can it better warm itself, either by basking in the sun or bysitting by the fire, or at the proper time cool itself more wholesomelyby the help of shade or water? Let the young keep their arms then tothemselves, their horses, spears, their foils and ball, their swimmingbaths and running path. To us old men let them, out of the many forms ofsport, leave dice and counters; but even that as they choose, since oldage can be quite happy without them. 

17. Xenophon's books are very useful for many purposes. Pray go onreading them with attention, as you have ever done. In what ampleterms is agriculture lauded by him in the book about husbanding one'sproperty, which is called _Oceonomicus_! But to show you that he thoughtnothing so worthy of a prince as the taste for cultivating the soil, Iwill translate what Socrates says to Critobulus in that book:

"When that most gallant Lacedaemonian Lysander came to visit the Persianprince Cyrus at Sardis, so eminent for his character and the glory ofhis rule, bringing him presents from his allies, he treated Lysanderin all ways with courteous familiarity and kindness, and, among otherthings, took him to see a certain park carefully planted. Lysanderexpressed admiration of the height of the trees and the exactarrangement of their rows in the quincunx, the careful cultivationof the soil, its freedom from weeds, and the sweetness of the odoursexhaled from the flowers, and went on to say that what he admired wasnot the industry only, but also the skill of the man by whom this hadbeen planned and laid out. Cyrus replied: 'Well, it was I who plannedthe whole thing these rows are my doing, the laying out is all mine;many of the trees were even planted by own hand. ' Then Lysander, lookingat his purple robe, the brilliance of his person, and his adornmentPersian fashion with gold and many jewels, said: 'People are quiteright, Cyrus, to call you happy, since the advantages of high fortunehave been joined to an excellence like yours. '"

This kind of good fortune, then, it is in the power of old men to enjoy;nor is age any bar to our maintaining pursuits of every other kind, andespecially of agriculture, to the very extreme verge of old age. Forinstance, we have it on record that M. Valerius Corvus kept it up to hishundredth year, living on his land and cultivating it after his activecareer was over, though between his first and sixth consulships therewas an interval of six and forty years. So that he had an officialcareer lasting the number of years which our ancestors defined as comingbetween birth and the beginning of old age. Moreover, that last periodof his old age was more blessed than that of his middle life, inasmuchas he had greater influence and less labour. For the crowning grace ofold age is influence. 

How great was that of L. Caecilius Metellus! How great that of AtiliusCalatinus, over whom the famous epitaph was placed, "Very many classesagree in deeming this to have been the very first man of the nation"!The line cut on his tomb is well known. It is natural, then, that a manshould have had influence, in whose praise the verdict of history isunanimous. Again, in recent times, what a great man was Publius Crassus, Pontifex Maximus, and his successor in the same office, M. Lepidus! Ineed scarcely mention Paulus or Africanus, or, as I did before, Maximus. It was not only their senatorial utterances that had weight: their leastgesture had it also. In fact, old age, especially when it has enjoyedhonours, has an influence worth all the pleasures of youth put together. 

18. But throughout my discourse remember that my panegyric applies toan old age that has been established on foundations laid by youth. Fromwhich may be deduced what I once said with universal applause, thatit was a wretched old age that had to defend itself by speech. Neitherwhite hairs nor wrinkles can at once claim influence in themselves: itis the honourable conduct of earlier days that is rewarded by possessinginfluence at the last. Even things generally regarded as trifling andmatters of course--being saluted, being courted, having way made forone, people rising when one approaches, being escorted to and from theforum, being referred to for advice--all these are marks of respect, observed among us and in other States--always most sedulously where themoral tone is highest. They say that Lysander the Spartan, whom I havementioned before, used to remark that Sparta was the most dignified homefor old age; for that nowhere was more respect paid to years, no-wherewas old age held in higher honour. Nay, the story is told of how whena man of advanced years came into the theatre at Athens when the gameswere going on, no place was given him anywhere in that large assemblyby his own countrymen; but when he came near the Lacedaemonians, who asambassadors had a fixed place assigned to them, they rose as one man outof respect for him, and gave the veteran a seat. When they were greetedwith rounds of applause from the whole audience, one of them remarked:

"The Athenians know what is right, but will not do it. " There are manyexcellent rules in our augural college, but among the best is one whichaffects our subject--that precedence in speech goes by seniority; andaugurs who are older are preferred only to those who have held higheroffice, but even to those who are actually in possession of imperium. What then are the physical pleasures to be compared with the reward ofinfluence? Those who have employed it with distinction appear to me tohave played the drama of life to its end, and not to have broken down inthe last act like unpractised players. 

But, it will be said, old men are fretful, fidgety, ill-tempered, anddisagreeable. If you come to that, they are also avaricious. But theseare faults of character, not of the time of life. And, after all, fretfulness and the other faults I mentioned admit of some excuse--not, indeed, a complete one, but one that may possibly pass muster: theythink themselves neglected, looked down upon, mocked, Besides withbodily weakness every rub is a source of pain. Yet all these faults aresoftened both by good character and good education. Illustrations ofthis may be found in real life, as also on the stage in the case ofthe brothers in the _Adeiphi_. What harshness in the one, what graciousmanners in the other The fact is that, just as it is not every wine, soit is not every life, that turns sour from keeping, Serious gravity Iapprove of in old age, but, as in other things, it must be within duelimits: bitterness I can in no case approve. What the object of senileavarice may be I cannot conceive. For can there be anything more absurdthan to seek more journey money, the less there remains of the journey?

19. There remains the fourth reason, which more than anything elseappears to torment men of my age and keep them in a flutter--THENEARNESS OF DEATH, which, it must be allowed, cannot be far from an oldman. But what a poor dotard must he be who has not learnt in the courseof so long a life that death is not a thing to be feared? Death, that iseither to be totally disregarded, if it entirely extinguishes the soul, or is even to be desired, if it brings him where he is to exist forever. A third alternative, at any rate, cannot possibly be discovered. Whythen should I be afraid if I am destined either not to be miserableafter death or even to be happy? After all, who is such a fool as tofeel certain--however young he may be--that he will be alive in theevening? Nay, that time of life has many more chances of death thanours, Young men more easily contract diseases; their illnesses are moreserious; their treatment has to be more severe. Accordingly, only a fewarrive at old age. If that were not so, life would be conducted betterand more wisely; for it is in old men that thought, reason, and prudenceare to be found; and if there had been no old men, States would neverhave existed at all. But I return to the subject of the imminence ofdeath. What sort of charge is this against old age, when you see that itis shared by youth? I had reason in the case of my excellent son--as youhad, Scipio, in that of your brothers, who were expected to attain thehighest honours--to realise that death is common to every time of life. Yes, you will say; but a young man expects to live long; an old mancannot expect to do so. Well, he is a fool to expect it. For what can bemore foolish than to regard the uncertain as certain, the false as true?"An old man has nothing even to hope. " Ah, but it is just there thathe is in a better position than a young man, since what the latter onlyhopes he has obtained. The one wishes to live long; the other has livedlong. 

And yet, good heaven! what is "long" in a man's life? For grantthe utmost limit: let us expect an age like that of the King of theTartessi. For there was, as I find recorded, a certain Agathonius atGades who reigned eighty years and lived a hundred and twenty. But to mymind nothing seems even long in which there is any "last, " for when thatarrives, then all the past has slipped away--only that remains to whichyou have attained by virtue and righteous actions. Hours indeed, anddays and months and years depart, nor does past time ever return, norcan the future be known. Whatever time each is granted for life, withthat he is bound to be content. An actor, in order to earn approval, is not bound to perform the play from beginning to end; let him onlysatisfy the audience in whatever act he appears. Nor need a wise man goon to the concluding "plaudite. " For a short term of life is long enoughfor living well and honourably. But if you go farther, you have no moreright to grumble than farmers do because the charm of the spring seasonis past and the summer and autumn have come. For the word "spring" in away suggests youth, and points to the harvest to be: the other seasonsare suited for the reaping and storing of the crops. Now the harvest ofold age is, as I have often said, the memory and rich store of blessingslaid up in easier life. Again, all things that accord with nature are tobe counted as good. But what can be more in accordance with naturethan for old men to die? A thing, indeed, which also beliefs young men, though nature revolts and fights against it. Accordingly, the death ofyoung men seems to me like putting out a great fire with a deluge ofwater; but old men die like a fire going out because it has burnt downof its own nature without artificial means. Again, just as apples whenunripe are torn from trees, but when ripe and mellow drop down, so itis violence that takes life from young men, ripeness from old. Thisripeness is so delightful to me, that, as I approach nearer to death, I seem as it were to be sighting land, and to be coming to port at lastafter a long voyage. 

20. Again, there is no fixed borderline for old age, and you are makinga good and proper use of it as long as you can satisfy the call of dutyand disregard death. The result of this is, that old age is even moreconfident and courageous than youth. That is the meaning of Solon'sanswer to the tyrant Pisistratus. When the latter asked him what herelied upon in opposing him with such boldness, he is said to havereplied, "On my old age. " But that end of life is the best, when, without the intellect or senses being impaired, Nature herself takesto pieces her own handiwork which she also put together. Just as thebuilder of a ship or a house can break them up more easily than any oneelse, so the nature that knit together the human frame can alsobest unfasten it. Moreover, a thing freshly glued together is alwaysdifficult to pull asunder; if old, this is easily done. 

The result is that the short time of life left to them is not to begrasped at by old men with greedy eagerness, or abandoned without cause. Pythagoras forbids us, without an order from our commander, that is God, to desert life's fortress and outpost. Solon's epitaph, indeed, is thatof a wise man, in which he says that he does not wish his death to beunaccompanied by the sorrow and lamentations of his friends. He wants, Isuppose, to be beloved by them. But I rather think Ennius says better:

None grace me with their tears, nor weeping loud Make sad my funeralrites!

He holds that a death is not a subject for mourning when it is followedby immortality. 

Again, there may possibly be some sensation of dying and that only fora short time, especially in the case of an old man: after death, indeed, sensation is either what one would desire, or it disappears altogether. But to disregard death is a lesson which must be studied from our youthup; for unless that is learnt, no one can have a quiet mind. For die wecertainly must, and that too without being certain whether it may not bethis very day. As death, therefore, is hanging over our head every hour, how can a man ever be unshaken in soul if he fears it?

But on this theme I don't think I need much enlarge: when I rememberwhat Lucius Brutus did, who was killed while defending his country; orthe two Decii, who spurred their horses to a gallop and met a voluntarydeath; or M. Atilius Regulus, who left his home to confront a death oftorture, rather than break the word which lie had pledged to the enemy;or the two Scipios, who determined to block the Carthaginian advanceeven with their own bodies; or your grandfather Lucius Paulus, whopaid with his life for the rashness of his colleague in the disgrace atCannae; or M. Marcellus, whose death not even the most bloodthirsty ofenemies would allow to go without the honour of burial. It is enough torecall that our legions (as I have recorded in my _Origins_) haveoften marched with cheerful and lofty spirit to ground from which theybelieved that they would never return. That, therefore, which youngmen--not only uninstructed, but absolutely ignorant--treat as of noaccount, shall men who are neither young nor ignorant shrink from interror? As a general truth, as it seems to me, it is weariness of allpursuits that creates weariness of life. There are certain pursuitsadapted to childhood: do young men miss them? There are others suitedto early manhood: does that settled time of life called "middle age" askfor them? There are others, again, suited to that age, but not lookedfor in old age. There are, finally, some which belong to Old age. Therefore, as the pursuits of the earlier ages have their time fordisappearing, so also have those of old age. And when that takes place, a satiety of life brings on the ripe time for death. 

21. For I do not see why I should not venture to tell you my personalopinion as to death, of which I seem to myself to have a clearer visionin proportion as I am nearer to it. I believe, Scipio and Laelius, thatyour fathers--those illustrious men and my dearest friends--are stillalive, and that too with a life which alone deserves the name. For aslong as we are imprisoned in this framework of the body, we perform acertain function and laborious work assigned us by fate. The soul, infact, is of heavenly origin, forced down from its home in the highest, and, so to speak, buried in earth, a place quite opposed to its divinenature and its immortality. But I suppose the immortal gods to have sownsouls broadcast in human bodies, that there might be some to surveythe world, and while contemplating the order of the heavenly bodies toimitate it in the unvarying regularity of their life. Nor is it onlyreason and arguments that have brought me to this belief, but the greatfame and authority of the most distinguished philosophers. I used tobe told that Pythagoras and the Pythagoreans--almost natives ofour country, who in old times had been called the Italian school ofphilosophers--never doubted that we had souls drafted from the universalDivine intelligence. I used besides to have pointed out to me thediscourse delivered by Socrates on the last day of his life upon theimmortality of the soul--Socrates who was pronounced by the oracle atDelphi to be the wisest of men. I need say no more. I have convincedmyself, and I hold--in view of the rapid movement of the soul, its vividmemory of the past and its prophetic knowledge of the future, its manyaccomplishments, its vast range of knowledge, its numerous discoveries--that a nature embracing such varied gifts cannot itself be mortal. And since the soul is always in motion and yet has no external source ofmotion, for it is self-moved, I conclude that it will also have no endto its motion, because it is not likely ever to abandon itself. Again, since the nature of the soul is not composite, nor has in it anyadmixture that is not homogeneous and similar, I conclude that it isindivisible, and, if indivisible, that it cannot perish. It is againa strong proof of men knowing most things before birth, that when merechildren they grasp innumerable facts with such speed as to show thatthey are not then taking them in for the first time, but remembering andrecalling them. This is roughly Plato's argument. 

22. Once more in Xenophon we have the elder Cyrus on his deathbedspeaking as follows:--

"Do not suppose, my dearest sons, that when I have left you I shall benowhere and no one. Even when I was with you, you did not see my soul, but knew that it was in this body of mine from what I did. Believe thenthat it is still the same, even though you see it not. The honours paidto illustrious men had not continued to exist after their death, hadthe souls of these very men not done something to make us retain ourrecollection of them beyond the ordinary time. For myself, I never couldbe persuaded that souls while in mortal bodies were alive, and dieddirectly they left them; nor, in fact, that the soul only lost allintelligence when it left the unintelligent body. I believe rather thatwhen, by being liberated from all corporeal admixture, it has begun tobe pure and undefiled, it is then that it becomes wise. And again, when man's natural frame is resolved into its elements by death, it isclearly seen whither each of the other elements departs: for they all goto the place from which they came: but the soul alone is invisible alikewhen present and when departing. Once more, you see that nothing is solike death as sleep. And yet it is in sleepers that souls most clearlyreveal their divine nature; for they foresee many events when they areallowed to escape and are left free. This shows what they are likely tobe when they have completely freed themselves from the fetters of thebody. Wherefore, if these things are so, obey me as a god. But if mysoul is to perish with my body, nevertheless do you from awe of thegods, who guard and govern this fair universe, preserve my memory by theloyalty and piety of your lives. "

23. Such are the words of the dying Cyrus. I will now, with your goodleave, look at home. No one, my dear Scipio, shall ever persuade me thatyour father Paulus and your two grandfathers Paulus and Africanus, orthe father of Africanus, or his uncle, or many other illustrious mennot necessary to mention, would have attempted such lofty deeds as to beremaindered by posterity, had they not seen in their minds that futureages concerned them. Do you suppose--to take an old man's privilege ofa little self-praise--that I should have been likely to undertakesuch heavy labours by day and night, at home and abroad, if I had beendestined to have the same limit to my glory as to my life? Had it notbeen much better to pass an age of ease and repose without any labouror exertion? But my soul, I know not how, refusing to be kept down, everfixed its eyes upon future ages, as though from a conviction that itwould begin to live only when it had left the body. But had it not beenthe case that souls were immortal, it would not have been the souls ofall the best men that made the greatest efforts after an immortality offame. 

Again, is there not the fact that the wisest man ever dies with thegreatest cheerfulness, the most unwise with the least? Don't you thinkthat the soul which has the clearer and longer sight sees that it isstarting for better things, while the soul whose vision is dimmer doesnot see it? For my part, I am transported with the desire to see yourfathers, who were the object of my reverence and affection. Nor is itonly those whom I knew that I long to see; it is those also of whom Ihave been told and have read, whom I have myself recorded in my history. When I am setting out for that, there is certainly no one who will findit easy to draw me back, or boil me up again like second Pelios. Nay, ifsome god should grant me to renew my childhood from my present age andonce more to be crying in my cradle, I would firmly refuse; nor shouldI in truth be willing, after having, as it were, run the full course, tobe recalled from the winning--crease to the barriers. For what blessinghas life to offer? Should we not rather say what labour? But grantingthat it has, at any rate it has after all a limit either to enjoymentor to existence. I don't wish to depreciate life, as many men and goodphilosophers have often done; nor do I regret having lived, for I havedone so in a way that lets me think that I was not born in vain. But Iquit life as I would an inn, not as I would a home. For nature has givenus a place of entertainment, not of residence. 

Oh glorious day when I shall set out to join that heavenly conclave andcompany of souls, and depart from the turmoil and impurities ofthis world! For I shall not go to join only those whom I have beforementioned, but also my son Cato, than whom no better man was ever born, nor one more conspicuous for piety. His body was burnt by me, thoughmine ought, on the contrary, to have been burnt by him; but his spirit, not abandoning, but ever looking back upon me, has certainly gonewhither he saw that I too must come. I was thought to bear that lossheroically, not that I really bore it without distress, but I found myown consolation in the thought that the parting and separation betweenus was not to be for long. 

It is by these means, my dear Scipio, --for you said that you and Laeliuswere wont to express surprise on this point, --that my old age sitslightly on me, and is not only not oppressive but even delightful. But if I am wrong in thinking the human soul immortal, I am glad to bewrong; nor will I allow the mistake which gives me so much pleasureto be wrested from me as long as I live. But if when dead, as someinsignificant philosophers think, I am to be without sensation, I am notafraid of dead philosophers deriding my errors. Again, if we are not tobe immortal, it is nevertheless what a man must wish--to have hislife end at its proper time. For nature puts a limit to living as toeverything else. Now, old age is as it were the playing out of thedrama, the full fatigue of which we should shun, especially when we alsofeel that we have had more than enough of it. 

This is all I had to say on old age. I pray that you may arrive at it, that you may put my words to a practical test.