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DE AMICITIA

' DE AMICITIA]

(ON FRIENDSHIP) g

BY

I M.TULLIUS CICERO

•TRANSLATED FROM THE LATINBY BENJAMIN E. SMITH

WSX^rf**,

NEW YORK WTHE CENTURY CO. ^

906

W?sJW?i>«4^W

Copyright, 1897,

By The Century Co.

THE DEViNNE Press.

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DE AMICITIA

2057153

DE AMICITIA(ON FRIENDSHIP)

INTRODUCTION

QuiNTUs Mucius,' the Au-gur, used to repeat very

entertainingly from mem-ory many of the sayingsof Caius Laelius,^ his fa-

ther-in-law, to whom healways gave without hesi-

tation the surname Wise.As soon as I put on thegarb ofmanhood my father

brought me to Scaevola,^that I might attend him,and thereafter, as much aswas possible and permit-

ted, I remained at the old

man's side. It thus hap-

pened that I was able tocommit to memory manyof his longer discourses

as well as his brief and

pithy remarks, and to

devote myself to the in-

creasing ofmy own know-ledge through his wisdom.

When he died I attachedmyself to Scaevola,^ the

Pontifex Maximus, whomI venture to call the most

distinguished of our citi-

zens both for intellect and

for integrity. But of him

I will speak in another

place. I return now to theAugur.Among the many that

I remember, I recall in par-

ticular one occasion when,

seated, as was his custom,

in his hemicyclium^ with

myself and a few of his

most intimate friends about

him, he chanced to speak

of a matter that was then

attracting much attention,and which you, Atticus,^

surely recollect, since youwere well acquainted with

Publius Sulpicius,^ name-ly, the bitter animosity with

which Sulpicius, when hewas Tribune of the people,opposed Quintus Pom-peius,^ then Consul, with

whom he had lived on

terms of affectionate inti-

macy— a subject of muchsurprise and general re-

gret. The mention of thisaffair led Scaevola to re-

peat to us a conversation

about friendship which

Laelius had held with himand with his other son-in-

law, Caius Fannius,9 the

son of Marcus, a few days

after the death of Afri-

canus.'° The substanceof this conversation I

committed to memory,and I have set it forth in

my own words in this es-say, casting the matter in

the form of a dialogue to

avoid the frequent repeti-

tion of " said I " and "said

he," and to make the reader

feel that he has been list-

ening to the speakers them-

selves.

For you have oftenurged me to write some-thing on this topic, and itappears to me also to beone that is worthy of theconsideration of all, andespecially of such friends

as ourselves. I was, there-

fore, very willing to grant

your request, and in grant-ing it to be of service to

others also. And as in"Cato the Elder," or "OldAge," which was inscribedto you, I introduced the

aged Cato" as the chiefdisputant, because no char-acter seemed to me sosuited to one who should

talk of old age as that of

this man who had been oldso long and in his age hadso far surpassed all others

in vigor; so it has seemedto me fitting to assign toLaelius the thoughts about

friendship which Scaevolaremembered that he ut-tered, especially since wehave heard from our el-

ders that the intimacv that

existed between Laelius

and Publius Scipio ^^ wasvery remarkable. Besides,

this method of presentingthe subject, resting as it

does on the authority ofillustrious men of formertimes, seems, for some rea-son, to produce a moreweighty impression. Even

6

I, when I read my ownbook on " Old Age," some-times feel that it is not I

who am speaking, butCato himself.

As I, an old man, thenwrote to an old man ofold age, so now I writelovingly of friendship to

the best of friends. ThenCato spoke, a man olderthan almost all his con-

temporaries and of greaterpractical wisdom than any;but now that friendship isthe theme, Laelius, a manboth wise— for so he wasesteemed — and notablefor all that makes friend-ship glorious, shall lead the

debate. In the meanwhileturn your thoughts from

me and imagine that youhear him speaking.

CaiusFannius and Ouin-tus Mucius visit their fa-ther-in-law after the death

of Africanus. The con-versation is opened bythem and Laelius replies.Their whole talk is offriendship ; and in whatthey say you will findyourself portrayed.

THE CONVERSATION

Fanmus. That is true,Laelius. For there never

was a better man than Af-ricanus, nor one more il-lustrious. But you shouldremember in your griefthat the eyes of all menare now turned upon you,whom they both thinkand call the Wise. For al-though, as we know, thistitle was given by our fa-thers to Lucius Atilius,'3

and recently to MarcusCato,'^ both of them re-ceived it for reasons some-

what different from thosethat have led men to giveit to you— Atilius, be-cause he was deemed ex-pert in the law; Cato onaccount of the variety of

his attainments : for so

much practical wisdomboth in the Senate and thecourts— so much foresightin planning, energy in ex-

ecution, and skill in de-fense— was credited tohim, that in his later years

"the Wise" became as itwere his distinguishing

name. You, on the otherhand, are so esteemed, not

only on account of your

disposition and characterbut also because of your

knowledge and learning:

you are wise, not as thecrowd reckons wisdom,but in that higher sense,

understood only by thetruly learned, in which itwas said that in all Greeceno one was wise save thatone man '^ at Athens whowas declared to be thewisest by the Delphic ora-cle (for the Seven, thoughso called, are not held to

belong to the number ofthe truly wise by those whothink more profoundly).

This wisdom peoplethink you possess— a wis-dom which teaches you toseek the source of all hap-

piness in yourself alone,

and to esteem the haps andmishaps of life as insignifi-

cant in comparison withvirtue. , Accordingly they

are asking me, and Scae-vola too, I suppose, howyou are bearing the deathof Africanus; and theircuriosity is increased bythe fact that recently whenwe assembled, as usual, fordeliberation in the gardens

of Decimus Brutus, theAugur, you were absent,although you have alwaysbeen very careful to be

present at these meetings

and perform your officialduties.

ScAEvoLA. Indeed I amasked this by many, Lae-lius, as Fanniussays. ButI answer that I have noted

that you bear with great

self-restraint the griefwhichthe death of this most ex-cellent man and very dearfriend has caused you,

though you are too full ofhuman kindness not to suf-fer keenly from the loss. Itell them, however, that the

reason of your absencefrom the official meetingofthe Augurs was not youraffliction but ill-health.

Laelius. And you an-swered well, Scaevola, andtruly. For had I beenwell I ought not on ac-count of my unhappinessto have neglected a dutywhich I have always punc-tually discharged ; nor doI think that any mis-fortune can cause a man

13

of firm character to be

guilty of such shortcom-

ings. But, Fannius, whenyou tell me that wisdomand virtue are attributed

to me beyond what I canadmit or desire, you speakas a friend ; and I do notthink that your judgmentdoes justice to Cato. For

if any one is truly wise,

—

which I am disposed todoubt,— he was a wiseman. How courageously— to give only one illus-tration— he bore the deathofhissonl'^ I rememberedthat Paulus ^^ had suffereda similar affliction, and I

had seen Gallus '^ when thesame grief had come tohim ; but the sons these

men lost were boys : Cato'sson was a mature and hon-

ored man. Wherefore donot heedlessly prefer to

Cato even the man whomApollo declared to be the

wisest. For Socrates is,indeed, famous for hiswords; but Cato is illus-trious through his deeds.

This in reply to Fannius :as regards myself, I will

now answer you both.If I were to deny that

I deeply feel the death of

Scipio, those who professto be wise in such matters^^

must judge whether suchan attitude of mind is rightor wrong— but certainly Ishould not be telling the

truth. For I do feel the

15

loss of the best friend that

I know man ever had or,I feel sure, ever will have.

But I need no externalremedy for my wound ; Iam able to heal myself,especially with the consol-

ing thought that, unlike

mostwho are overwhelmedwith anguish when theirfriends die, I do not grievewithout hope. For I donot think that an evil thing

has happened to Scipio :if there is any evil in theevent, I am the one whosuffers it ; but to be unduly

distressed by one's own af-fliction is the part not of

one who loves his friend,but of one who loves him-self

i6

As for him, who willdeny that his lot was aglorious one? For unlesshe had wished— what henever thought of—to beexempt from death, whatwas there within theproper limits of humandesire that he did not at-

tain '?—he who by the ex-traordinary virtues of his

early manhood surpassedeven the highest hopes

that his fellow-citizens had

already formed of him inhis boyhood; who neversought the Consulship,

yet was twice made Con-sul— once before he hadreached the legal age, andagain at a time propitious

for himself but almost too' 17

late for the safety of the

Republic ; and who bythe overthrow oftwo cities,both fiercely hostile to our

state, not only put an endto existing wars but also

prevented them for the fu-ture. Why should I speakof his gracious manners, of

his affection for his mother,

of his generosity to his

sisters, of his goodness to-

ward the rest of his fam-ily, of his justice to all

men? These things youboth know well. Howmuch, also, he was lovedby the general public wasmanifest in the grief that

was shown at his funeral.Of what profit, then,

to him would have beeni8

a few more years of life ?For old age, even though

it may not be in itselfa burden,—as I remem-ber Cato maintained in a

conversation with Scipio

and myself the year before

he died,— necessarily im-pairs that vitality and vigorwhich Scipio still pos-sessed. Thus his life wasso complete, both in goodfortune and in fame, thatnothing could be addedto it: and even in dyingthis good fortune followedhim, for the suddenness of

his death doubtless robbed

it of its pain. The exactmanner of it we cannottell with certainty : vari-

ous suspicions are, as you

19

know, in the air. But thiswe can say, that of themany happy and famousdays that Pubhus Scipiosaw during his life, themost glorious one was the

day before his death, whentoward evening, on the

adjournment of the Sen-

ate, he was escorted to his

home by the ConscriptFathers, the Roman peo-ple, the Latins, and the al-

lies. From this lofty planeof honor he seems not to

have descended to the

shades but to have as-

cended to the gods.

For I do not agree withthose ''° who have of latebegun to argue that thesoul perishes with the

body and that death endsall. Of more weight withme is the authority of theancients—ofour ancestors,who surely would not haveestablished religious rites

for the dead if they hadthought that the dead haveno concern in them ; ofthose philosophers whoby their schools and in-struction made MagnaGraecia ^' (now utterly de-cayed but then flourishing)

famous for learning; andof that sage, judged by theoracle of Apollo to bethe wisest of men, whoseopinion was not now thisand now that, as withmost, but always thesame— that the souls of

men are divine, that whenthey leave the body theyfind the return to heavenopen, and that this returnis easiest for the most up-right and the best. Andthis was also the behef ofScipio who, almost pro-phetically, a little while

before his death, in the

presence of Philus,^^ Man-ilius, ^3and several others,

—

and of you, too, Scaevola,for you had come withme,— talked on three suc-cessive days about the Re-public, and toward the endspoke almost wholly of the

immortality of the soul,

telling us what he hadheard in a dream ^^ fromAfricanus.

If this then is true, that

for each soul the escape,

as it were, from its im-

prisonment in the body iseasy in proportion to its

moral worth, for whomcan this flight to the gods

have been easier than for

Scipio ? I, therefore, fear

to lament his fate lest such

grief should show more ofenvy than of friendship.Even if the truth is withthe other belief, that soul

and body perish togetherand that no consciousnesssurvives, it remains certain

that if death brings noth-

ing good it also bringsnothing evil. For if con-sciousness be lost it is with

him exactly as if he had

23

not been born at all—though we rejoice that hewas born, and this Statealso, as long as it ex-

ists, will rejoice. And soto him, as I have said,the best has happened

;

though not to me, for as

I came into the world be-fore him I ought to havebeen the first to leave it.

But so delightful is therecollection of our friend-

ship that the happiness of

my life seems to me tohave been that I lived

with Scipio; for we wereunited in domestic andin public affiiirs, at homeand in military service,and by that strongest bondof love, harmony of de-

24

sires, pursuits, and senti-

ments. I am, therefore,

not so much pleased bythat reputation for wisdomwhich Fannius just men-tioned— and which iscertainly not merited— asby the hope that thememory of our friendshipwill never perish; and this

I have at heart the morebecause in all the past

scarcely three or four pairs

of friends have becomefamous— a group inwhich I hope, the friend-ship of Laelius and Scipiowill be known to pos-terity.

Fannius. There can beno doubt about that, Lae-lius. But since you have

25

mentioned the subject, andwe have nothing else onhand, you will do a greatfavor to me—and to Scae-vola too, I am sure— ifyou will talk to us aboutfriendship, just as you doabout other matters whenyour opinion is sought,

telling us what are yourideas about it, what, in

your opinion, is its char-

acter, and what rules youwould lay down with re-gard to it.

ScAEvoLA. I shall be

very glad to listen ; and Iwas about to ask you todo this when Fannius an-ticipated me. So you willbe conferring a favor onus both.

26

Laelius. I certainly

would not hesitate if Ifelt confidence in myability; for the subject is

a very attractive and im-

portant one, and we are,as Fannius has said, at

leisure. But who am Ithat I should discuss this

theme or what capacityhave I to do it justice?

To speak without prepara-tion on topics suggested

by others is a customamong philosophers, espe-cially the Greeks. Butthe art is a difficult one,

and requires not a little

practice. It seems to me,

therefore, that you woulddo better to seek what canbe said about friendship

27

from those who possessthis accomplishment.

As for me, I can onlyurge you to prefer friend-ship to everything else in

life ; for there is nothing

else so fitted to nature—so well suited both to pros-

perity and to adversity.But I assert as a first prin-ciple that friendship can

exist only between those

who are good ; nor wouldI split hairs in defining

this word " good," assome ^5 (Jo who discussthese matters with sub-

tlety and perhaps cor-rectly in theory, but with

little advantage to the un-

learned, for they deny thatany one can be good ex-

28

cept the wise. This maybe true ; but they under-

stand by wisdom some-thing that no mortal being

has yet attained ; while weought to have in view

those traits which have aplace in the experience

of common life, and notthose which are mere pro-ducts of fancy or objects

of aspiration. For I will

never call Caius Fabri-

cius,^^ Manius Curius,^^or Tiberius Coruncanius,^^

wise, though our ancestors

judged them to be so, if Ihave to measure them bythe standard of wisdomset up by these philoso-phers. Let them keep,then, for themselves that

29

name of " wisdom," withall its pretentiousness andunintelligibility, if they

will only admit that these

men may have been good.But this they will not do;they will not for a momentconcede that any one canbe good who is not, intheir sense of the word,

wise. Let us appeal, then,

to plain common sense.From this point of view itis clear that those who soact and live as to provetheir good faith, upright-ness, justice, and gener-

osity, and show that theyharbor no covetousness,licentiousness, or presump-tion, and have greatstrength of character,— as

30

had those whom I havementioned,— ought to becalled the good men theyare esteemed to be, be-

cause, as far as men can,they follow nature, whichis the best guide to a goodlife.

For it seems to me evi-dent that from the veryfact of our birth there ex-

ists among us all a certainfellowship which is strongin proportion to the near-

ness of our relationship.

Thus fellow-citizens aremore closely bound to-gether than foreigners, rela-

tives than those who haveno tie of blood : betweensuch nature herself begets

friendship, though it is one

31

that lacks strength. For truefriendship has this advan-

tage over mere closeness ofrelationship, that from thelatter good will may betaken away, but never

from friendship ; since

when good will is lost thevery name of friendship isdestroyed, while that of

relationship remains. Howgreat the power of friend-ship is can best be seen

from this, that in humanfellowship, wide as it is,and established as it is bynature herself, the sphere

of true and tender affec-

tion, is so narrowed that

it exists only between two,or at most a few.

For friendship is noth-

32

ing else than harmony ofopinion and sentiment

about all things humanand divine, with good-will

and affection : and no bet-ter thing than this, it seems

to me,— unless we exceptwisdom,— has been givento man by the immortalgods. Some prefer wealth,some health, some power,some public honors, andvery many pleasure. Butthe last is, as an end, worthyonly of beasts, while the

others are precarious andtransitory, and depend notso much upon our owndevices as upon luck.Some, on the other hand,regard virtue as the high-

est good, and their opin-

^ 33

ion is a noble and true one;but it is this very virtue

that begets and preservesfriendship, for without vir-

tue there can be no friend-ship at all.

Nor would I, like somephilosophers,^'^ define vir-

tue, as I here employ theword, in grandiloquent

terms, but rather in ac-

cordance with our ordin-

ary habits of life andspeech, citing as virtuous

men those who have beenesteemed to be so— thePauli, the Catos, the Galli,

the Scipios, the Phili. Or-

dinary human life findssuch men quite goodenough ; and we may, ac-cordingly, disregard those

34

ideal perfect beings 3°whomnobody has ever seen.Among these good men

of real Hfe, however, friend-

ship has advantages almost

more numerous than I canname. For, in the first

place, what Hfe can beworth living, as Ennius^'

says, which lacks the calmjoy which flows from themutual affection of friend-ship ? What is sweeterthan the possession of a

friend with whom one cancommune as withone'sownsoul ^ What enjoymentwould there be in prosper-ity without one to rejoicein your good fortune asmuch as you do yourself?And adversity could hardly

35

be endured without thesympathetic friend who ismore grieved than you byyour misfortune. In short,

the other things that menstrive for are fitted, almost

always, for particular ends

only— wealth for use,power for the securing ofhomage, honors for ap-plause, pleasures for de-

light, health for freedom

from pain and for the ex-ercise of the bodily pow-ers. Friendship, on theother hand, combines manyadvantages. Whereveryou turn it is at hand.From no place is it shutout. It is never unseason-

able. It never annoys.

And thus, as the proverb

says, we have as manyuses for friendship as for

fire and water. Nor do Ispeak now of friendshipof the common and ordin-ary sort,— though this isboth pleasant and service-

able,— but oftrue and per-fect love, like that of the

few whose mutual affec-tion has become famous.Friendship such as this

makes prosperity morebright, and by dividingand sharing adversity light-ens its weight.''

Friendship, moreover,

not only comprises the

most numerous and im-portant practical advan-

tages, but is also preemin-

ent in this, that it throws

37

the light of a good hopeforward into the future, anddoes not suffer us to be-

come down-hearted or de-pressed. For he whobeholds the face of a true

friend sees, as it were, a

duplicate of himself Andso, though absent, they arepresent; though needy theydo not lack; though weakthey are strong; and, mostmarvelous of all, though

dead they yet live: withsuch regard, such fond

recollections, such tender

love are they followed bytheir friends. Thus thedeath of those who departseems blessed, and the life

ofthose who remain worthyof praise.

38

If you should take awayfrom nature the bond ofgood-will no home or citycould survive, nor could

even the cultivation of the

fields go on. Indeed, ifthere is any doubt about

the great power of friend-ship and harmony, it canbe removed by a glanceat the obvious results of

strife and discord ; forwhat house is so stable,what state so firmly based,that it cannot be over-

thrown to its foundations

by disaffection and malice?From this you can judgeof the value of friendship.

A certain philosopher ^^ ofAgrigentum, it is said,composed a poem, in

39

Greek, in which he sangthat all things throughout

the universe that moveapart are dissevered bydiscord, while those that

stand united are drawn to-gether by love. But thisall mortals understand, andprove its truth by theirconduct. ( For ifsome onedoes a notable service to

a friend, either by seekingto incur or by sharing hisdangers, who does not be-stow upon such an act thehighest praise '?j Whatshouts shook the wholetheater on the presentation

of the new play^^ of myfriend and guest MarcusPacuvius^^ when— theking not knowing which

40

was Orestes— Pylades de-clared that he was Orestes

in order that he might be

slain in his friend's stead,

while Orestes insisted that

he was the true Orestes

—

as in fact he was ! Thespectators rose to their feet,

and applauded to the echothis unreal scene : whatmay we suppose theywould have done if theyhad seen the reality? Inthis episode nature herself

showed her power whenmen approved in anotherconduct to which theywould not have been equalthemselves.

I have now stated, aswell, I think, as I can, mythoughts about friendship.

41

If I have left anything un-

said— and I think thereis much that might be ad-ded— seek it, if you will,from those who makea business of such dis-

courses.

Fannius. We wouldrather hear it from you

:

though I have often putquestions to those philos-

ophers and heard their an-swers with pleasure. Yourdiscourse, however, has a

somewhat different stamp.ScAEVOLA. You would

say that more emphatic-ally, Fannius, if you hadbeen present recently in

the gardens of Scipio whenthe conversation turned

on the Republic. What42

an advocate of justice he

was when he answered thestudied speech of Philus

!

Fannius. It was easyfor the most just of mento defend justice.

ScAEVOLA. And whynot friendship *? Is it not

easy for him to defendit who has attained thehighest renown for pre-serving it with the utmost

fidelity, constancy, andequity?

Laelius. But this is toemploy force I For whatmatters it how you com-pel me ?— I amcompelledbeyond a doubt. For it isnot easy, nor is it right,

to refuse the earnest re-

quest of one's sons-in-law,

43

especially when they haveso good a case.

In thinking of friend-

ship, then, the question

that has most often andforcibly occurred to me isthis : whether friendship isto be sought because of afeeling of weakness andneed, in order that by thegiving and receiving offavors, each may obtainfrom his friend what he isleast able to do for himself,and, in turn, may renderhis friend the same aid;or whether friendship—though this mutual aid-giving is one of its essen-tial characteristics— hasnot another cause which isloftier, more lovely, and

44

founded more deeply inthe very nature of man."^

For the inner sentimentof love, from which, in

Latin,35 ^h^ word " friend-ship" is derived, is the

chief source of all outward

friendly conduct. Profit,

indeed, is often gained

from those who are hon-ored in pretended friend-

ship only, and are esteemedonly because they relieve

the needs of their intim-

ates; in true friendship, onthe contrary, there is nofeigning, no deceit, butwhatever is done comesfrom a true heart and afree will. Wherefore itseems to me to springfrom nature herself rather

45

than from a feeling ofneed— from a natural in-clination together with a

certain consciousness of

loving rather than from

calculation of the advan-

tages that may flow fromit.

Its true character may, infact, be perceived even in

some brutes, for they lovetheir offspring for a time

and are, in turn, so lovedby them that this naturalaffection is easily discerned.

In man, of course, this ismuch more clear; firstof all in the natural af-

fection which exists be-tween parents and chil-dren, and which can bedissolved only by some

46

horrible crime; and then

in that similar feeling of

love which springs upwhen we find some onewhose nature and habits

are in harmony with ourown and in whom wethink we see a bright ex-ample of integrity and

virtue. For there is no-

thing more lovable thanvirtue, nothing that morequickly wins affection

;

in fact, for their virtue

and uprightness we loveeven those whom we havenever seen. Who doesnot hold the memory ofCaius Fabricius and Man-ius Curius in affectionate

regard, though he neversaw them ? And who, on

47

the other hand, does not

loathe Tarquinius Super-

bus 3^, Spurius Cassius37,

and Spurius MaeHus^^?Two generals, Pyrrhus ^^and Hannibal ^° fought forthe conquest of Italy : the

former we respect for hisintegrity, the latter we de-test for his cruelty. But ifthe power of uprightnessis so great that we are con-strained to love it in those

whom we have never seen,and even (which is morestriking) in an enemy, is it

wonderful that the souls of

men are moved when theysee the virtue and good-

ness of those with whomthey can be intimate?

Love is, of course,

48

strengthened by the receiptof favors, by the percep-tion of affection, and byhabitual intercourse ; andwhen these are added tothe original loving im-

pulse of the heart goodwill begins to glow withextraordinary ardor. Butif any think that it is be-gotten by a sense of need— in order to have a friendwho may give us whatwe lack — they assign tofriendship, as it were, a

mean and ignoble originin tracing its birth to pov-

erty and want. If thisview of its origin weretrue, then each one wouldbe fitted for friendship in

proportion to the scanti-

i 49

ness of his resources; butthis is far from being thecase. For it is when onerelies chiefly upon him-self and is so thoroughlyequipped with virtue andwisdom that he has needof no one, and regardshis fortunes as dependent

upon himself alone, thathe excels in seeking and inpreserving affection. Howabsurd not to admit this IDid Africanus have needofme ? No, by Hercules I— nor I of him. For Iwas drawn to him by ad-miration of his virtuCj'^and

he loved me for the goodopinion which, perhaps,

he had formed of mycharacter. J Habitual inter-

so

course only strengthened

our mutual good-will.

But although the prac-tical advantages that at-

tended it were many andgreat, the true source of

our friendship did not lie

in the hope of obtainingthem. We are not kindand generous in order thatwe may exact a return—for we do not put ourgood-will out at usury, but

are by nature inclined togenerosity; and in thesame way, it seems to me,friendship should be

sought not from the hopeof pay but for the profitthat is found in love it-self

From this opinionSI

those '^^ who, like thebrutes, refer everything to

pleasure emphatically dis-

sent. Nor is this strange.For men who have fixedall their thoughts upon anend so low and so ignoblecannot lift them to whatis exalted, noble, and di-vine. Accordingly, we maydismiss these philosophers

from our discussion; andwe will assume it to begranted that the sentiment

of love and the emotion

of affectionate good-will

are begotten in us byhuman nature itself, assoon as we clearly see up-rightness of character in

others. Those who seekthis mutual affection are

52

drawn together and devotethemselves to one another,

that each may enjoy thecharacter and companion-ship of the one he has be-

gun to love.^ In love thereis equality in all respects,

and each is more eager toconfer favors upon hisfriend than to demandthem from him ; in thismatter there is, indeed, an

honorable rivalry betweenthem./

Thus will the greatestadvantages be obtained

from friendship, and its de-rivation from nature, ratherthan from need, will bemore noble and more real.For if friendships werecemented by utility, the

53

impairment of their util-ity by change of circum-stances would dissolvethem; but true friendshipsare eternal, because nature

cannot change.

This will suffice for the

origin of friendship, unless

you have something tosay in reply to my argu-ment.

Fannius. Nay, go on,Laelius ; and I say this, as

I have a right to do, both

for Scaevola and myself,since he is the younger.

Scaevola. I assent to

that; and so let us listen.Laelius. You shall hear,

then, best of men, the

opinions that Scipio and

I expressed in our fre-

54

quent conversations on this

theme. He thought, it istrue, that nothing is moredifficult than to retain

friendship unimpaired un-

til the end of life. For itmay often happen thatthe private interests of

friends conflict, or that

they differ in opinion onpublic affairs. Our habitsand dispositions, too, heused to say, change— aresult sometimes of ad-versity, sometimes of ad-vancing years. And asan illustration of this he

would cite the experiencesof childhood, for boys wholove one another most ar-dently often lay aside at

the same time the garb

55

of youth and their mu-tual affection. Even ifthese early loves last un-

til the dawn of manhood,they are apt to be de-

stroyed either by rivalryin marriage, or competi-

tion for some other ad-vantage which both thefriends cannot obtain. If

they endure still longer,

they are very likely to

come to grief if the friendshappen to contend for thesame public honors. Forthere is, in many cases, nogreater enemy of friend-ship than greed of gain ;and between many excel-lent men, who have beenthe best of friends, bitter

hatred is engendered by

56

the struggle for place andfame. Strong and oftenjust dislikes, too, are be-

gotten, when friends areasked for something thatthey cannot rightly grant,

as, for example, aid in the

gratification of lust or as-

sistance in a crime. Thosewho deny such requests,however virtuously, arecharged, by the friendsthey decline to aid, with

treason to friendship; while

those who make such de-mands profess, by the veryfact, that they are willing

to do anything whateverfor a friend's sake. Suchquarrels, when habitual,not only destroy intimacybut also often beget un-

57

dying hate. In fact, somany chances of ship-wreck, Scipiowouldsay, lie

before friendship, that to

escape them all, and comesafely into port, wouldseem to depend not onlyupon exceptional wisdombut also upon rare goodluck.

Let us, then, f consider

first, if you will," how farlove of our friends ought

to influence our conductTj

For example, if Corio-lanus'^^ had friends ought

they to have borne arms

with him against their na-tive land*? Ought thefriends of Viscellinus^^ or

those of Maelius, both of

whom aimed at regal pow-58

er, to have aided them intheir designs? We haveseen how Tiberius Grac-chus '^'^ was abandoned byQuintus Tubero^5 ^iudother friends when he dis-turbed the peace of the

Republic. Yet Caius Blos-sius^^ofCumse,— the guestof your family, Scaevola,— when he came to me,then the legal adviser of

Laenatus and Rupilius theconsuls, seeking to avert

punishment, offered as the

reason why I should par-don him that he was sostrongly attached to Tibe-

rius Gracchus that hethought that he oughtto do whatever Gracchuswished. But I said to him:

59

" Even if he had wishedyou to set fire to the Capi-tol ? " " He would neverhave desired such a thing,"he replied, "but if he haddesired it I would havedone it." That was theanswer of a scoundrel I

And, by Hercules, his con-duct did not belie, but

rather surpassed, his words;

for instead of giving obe-

dient assent to the auda-

cious scheme of Gracchushe took a commandingpart in it, showing himselfto be a leader rather than

a follower of his madness.

As a result of this folly,terrified by the novel ju-dicial proceedings whichwere set on foot against

60

him and his fellows, hefled to Asia, took refuge

among our enemies, andfinally paid a heavy andjust penalty for his crime.

It is, then, no excusefor wrong-doing to say that

you sinned for a friend'ssake; indeed, since the be-

lief of your friend in yourvirtue may have been theground of his friendship,it is hard for that friend-

ship to endure when youhave wandered from vir-tue's ways. In fact, if weshould hold it to be right

to grant whatever ourfriends wish, and to askfrom them whatever wedesire, we should all needto be endowed with ab-

6i

solute wisdom to keepour friendships free fromblame. The friends weare talking about, how-ever, are not these ideal

wise men, but real menwhom we know, whomwe have seen with our _own eyes, or of whom wehave heard, and who arefamiliar figures in com-mon life. It is from thesethat our examples mustbe taken; and those shouldbe selected who approachmost closely to true wis-dom. We know, fromwhat our fathers havehanded down to us, thatAemilius'^^ was very inti-mate with Luscinus,'^^ forthey were twice consuls to-

62

gether, and colleagues in

the censorship ; and there

is a tradition, also, that

Manius Curius and Ti-berius Coruncanius were

close friends of these menand of each other. Butwe cannot imagine thateither of these men wouldhave demanded from hisfriend anything that wascontrary to good faith, tothe obligations of an oath,

or to the best interests of

the State. What need isthere of saying of such

men that if one of themhad demanded anythingofthat kind from his friendhe would not have ob-tained it? For they weremen of the utmost integ-

63

rity ; and it is as wrong togrant an evil request as tomake it. Yet Caius Car-bo ^9 and Cai us Cato 5° sup-ported Tiberius Gracchus,

as did also his brother

Caius,^' at the time with

Httle ardor, it is true, but

now most zealously.Let this then be estab-

lished as a law of friend-ship, that we should neitherask of our friends, nor doat their request, anything

that is dishonorable ; andthe plea that one has acted

in a friend's behalf is a

base excuse to offer for anycrime, and particularly foran offense against the State.

For the present situationof the republic is such,

64

Fannius and Scaevola, that

we ought to look far aheadfor the dangers that maythreaten it. Already it

has, to some extent, occu-pied a different ground

and followed a different

course from those pre-

scribed by the customs ofour ancestors. Tiberius

Gracchus attempted to be-come king; and in fact hedid exercise regal powerfor a few months. Whenhad the Roman peopleheard or seen anything

like this? What, even af-ter his death, the friends

and relatives who followedhim did to Publius Scipio^^I cannot mention withouttears. We have borne

5 65

with Carbo " as well as wecould, on account of therecent punishment of Ti-berius Gracchus; but whatI anticipate from the trib-unate of Caius GracchusI do not care to say.

Moreover, another evilis creeping upon us; andit is the tendency of such

evils, when once they havesprung up, to move moreand more swiftly to thecatastrophe. For even be-fore this you saw, in thematter of the ballot, howgreat degeneracy wasshown first in the Gabi-nian law, and two yearslater in the Cassian.^'^ Al-

ready I seem to see thepeople alienated from the

66

senate, and the most im-

portant affairs of state set-

tled by the caprice of themob; for more will knowhow these revolutionarymovements may be effect-ed than how to preventthem.

But why do I mentionthese things? Because noone attempts to compasssuch ends without the aid

of associates. Good menshould, therefore, be ad-

vised that if by any chancethey unwittingly contract

such friendships, they need

not feel so bound by themthat they cannot abandonfriends who are guilty ofa serious offense ; and pun-ishment should be visited

67

on all the guilty— as wellupon those who are merelyfollowers as upon thosewho are leaders in thecrime. Who, in all Greece,was more renowned thanThemistocles^ss who morepowerful? Yet when, ascommander in the Persianwar, he had freed Greece

from servitude, andthrough envy had beendriven into exile, he did

not bear as he ought the

injuries inflicted by his un-grateful country. He didwhat twenty years beforeCoriolanus had done at

Rome [sought refuge withhis country's enemies].

But neither of these menfound any one among his

68

fellow-citizens who wouldaid him in his attack up-on his native land; and so

both committed suicide.

Such association with evil-doers, therefore, is not to be

protected by the plea offriendship, but is rather to

be punished with the ut-

most severity lest any oneshould imagine that it is

permissible to follow a

friend even to the point

of making war upon one'scountry— a degree ofbaseness which, as things

are going now, may, foraught I know, be reachedin the future. For I amno less anxious about thecourse of public affairs

after my death than I69

am about their presentcondition.

Let this, then, be held

to be the first law of

friendship, that we shouldask from our friends only

what is right, and shoulddo for them only whatcan honorably be granted.Nor should we wait untilwe are asked; there shouldbe eagerness and no delayin such service. fWeshould venture also to

give advice freely; for in

friendship the influence of

friends who advise wiselymay be of great value^Such admonition should^be given frankly, and evensharply, if the occasion

demands severity, and

70

when given should beobeyed.

Certain philosophers,

who are regarded as wisemen, I am told, by theGreeks, entertain strange

opinions on this topic

—

for there is nothing whichthey do not argue aboutwith subtlety : some,

namely, hold that very

close friendships are to be

avoided lest it should be-

come necessary for one tobe anxious about others;

that each has enough, andmore than enough, to do inlooking after h is own aifairs,while to be involved over-

much in the concerns ofothers is an annoyance;that friendship is most

71

pleasant when it is drivenwith loose reins, which canbe tightened or relaxed at

pleasure; and that the chiefelement in a happy life isfreedom from care, whichthe soul cannot enjoy if

it is, as it were, in travail

for many friends. Others,they say, express a view

which seems to me muchless worthy of human na-ture,—and which I brieflycriticized a little while ago,

— namely, that friendshipsare to be sought for the

sake of the protection and

aid which they furnish and

not of good-will and affec-

tion, and that the less self-

trust and vigor a man hasthe more apt he is to look

72

for friends; from which it

follows that women fromtheir feebleness are morelikely than men are to seekthe protection afforded byfriendships, as are also the

poor more than the rich,and the unfortunate morethan those who are es-teemed lucky.O marvelous wisdom I

£To rob life of friendship—the best and sweetest giftof the immortal gods—would be like robbing theheavens of the sun I ] Forwhat is that boaste3 free-dom from care ? It hasan alluring aspect, but itoften ought to be re-nounced ; since it is notright to refuse to support

a good cause or do anhonorable act, or to aban-

don one that has been un-dertaken, simply to avoid

trouble. If we are to shuncare, virtue also must beshunned, since it is, of

necessity, at considerable

pains to spurn and hateits opposites, as goodness

spurns and hates wicked-ness, moderation lust, and

courage cowardice. Thus,as you may see, the justare most distressed by in-justice, the brave by pusil-lanimity, and the virtuous

by license. To rejoice ingoodness and be grieved

by its opposite is, in fact,an essential mark of a well-ordered mind.

74

And so if grief of heartand mind comes to thewise man,— as come itmust, unless all humankindness be torn from his

soul,— why should we to-tally remove friendship

from our lives lest it bring

us some annoyance '? Forwhen the emotions of thesoul are taken away whatdifference is there— I willnot say between men andcattle, but between menand stocks and stones'?Wherefore give no heedto those who pretend thatvirtue is something hardand, so to say, tough assteel; it is in many matters,and especially in friend-ship, soft and so ductile

75

that it can, as it were, ex-

pand to fit the good for-tune of a friend or contract

to suit his griefs. Accord-ingly even that profound

distress which must oftenbe incurred for a friend's

sake is not of sufficient

weight to drive friendship

out of our lives, any morethan the occasional cares

and annoyances which at-tend the virtues are ade-

quate grounds for renounc-

ing them.

As I have already said,

jithe clear perception of a

virtuous characterto which

a kindred spirit can attach

and devote itself produces

friendship, and when thishappens love necessarily

76

springs into beingi For

what can be so absurd

as to be delighted bymany intrinsically worth-less things, such as public

honors, fame, fine houses,

and the clothingand adorn-

ment of the body, and notto be entranced by a soulendowed with virtue—onethat can love and returnlove for love^ Nothingis more delightful thanthe repaying of good-will,

nothing sweeter than the

interchange of personal af-

fection and good offices.Nay, if we add to this, aswe rightly may, that thereis nothing that so allures

and draws other things toitself as similarity of char-

77

acter does to friendship, it

must surely be grantedthat the good love and at-tract the good as if theywere joined to them bykinship and by nature; fornature is very desirous of

its like and quick tograsp it.

This, then, in my opin-ion, is certain, Fannius andScaevola, that between thegood mutual good-will is,as it were, a necessity, andhas been decreed by natureto be the fountain-head of

friendship. But the samekindly feeling prevails

throughout the mass ofmankind. For virtue isnot a thing apart from

human nature, nor is it78

unserviceable, or proud. It

even guards whole nations

and gives them the wisestcounsel; and this it surely

would not do if it wereaverse to the love of man-kind in general.

Now the most lovelybond of friendship is sev-ered by those who falselybase it on utility; for it isnot so much the benefitthat is obtained from afriend that delights us as

that friend's love itself;

and what is done for usby a friend gives pleasureonly when it is done fromaffection. In fact, so far

is it from being true thatfriendships are fostered bya sense of need, that those

79

who on account of theirwealth, resources, and espe-cially their virtue— whichis the greatest safeguard—have least need of othersare most generous and Hb-eral. I am not sure, in-deed, that it would be wellthat our friends should

never have need of us atall. For how could thestrength of our affection

have been shown if Scipiohad never, at home or inthe field, required mycounsel and assistance ^

Our friendship, however,did not spring from the

service, but rather the ser-

vice from our friendship.

Men whose lives aredevoted to pleasure ought

80

not, therefore, to be list-

ened to when they talkabout friendship, of whichthey know nothing eitherin theory or in practice.

For who, by the faith ofgods and men, would bewilling to accept a life of

luxury and a superabund-ance of all good thingson the condition that heshould love no one nor beloved by any I Only ty-rants live a life like that—devoid of confidence, af-fection, and belief in anysteadfast good-will : all is

suspicion and anxiety, andthere is no place for friend-ship. For who can loveone whom he fears, or oneby whom he thinks that he

tJ 8i

is feared? Yet tyrantsare flattered with a false

show of friendship as longas they can be made ofuse; but if, as often hap-

pens, they are overthrown,

their lack of true friends

is at once manifest. ThusTarquin, when he was ex-iled, is said to have de-

clared that he could then

tell which of his friendswere faithful and whichfalse, since he could nolonger bestow favors uponeither; though I doubtwhether a man so proudand insolent could havehad any friends at all.While this man's evil

character made it impossi-ble for him to have friends,

82

it is also true that the

wealth and power of thosein high station often pre-

vent the formation of faith-

ful friendships. For notonly is Fortune herself

blind, but she also often

blinds those whom she em-braces. And so her favor-ites are almost always madwith pride and insolence;nor is there anything in

creation more unbearablethan a fool favored by for-tune. One even sees many,who once possessed a ge-nial character, so changedby the acquisition of pow-er, civil authority, andwealth, that they scorn old

friendships and become ab-sorbed in new. But, when

83

they have abundant re-sources, ability, and v/ealth,what can be more silly thanto procure horses, servants,

costly clothing, rare vases,

and everything else thatmoney can buy, yet not toprocure friends, who are,so to say, the best andchoicest furniture of life ?

For when they buy thoseother material things they

know not for whom theybuy them, nor 'for whosesake they toil; since every-

thing of that kind belongs

to him who has the powerto take it. Friendships, on

the other hand, are for each

of us a fixed and absolute

possession ; so that even

with all the so-called gifts

of fortune, a life unadorned

and deserted by friendscannot be happy. Butenough on this topic.We must now deter-

mine what are the limits offriendship and, as it were,

the bounds of love. Onthis point I find that three

opinions are proposed,

none of which commandsmy approval. The first is,that we should be disposedtoward our friends exact-ly as we are toward our-selves; the second, that weshould have precisely the

same amount of good-willtoward them that theyhave toward us; and thethird, that at whatevervalue one rates himself

85

he should be rated by hisfriends.

With no one of thesethree opinions can I en-

tirely agree. It is not true,

as the first would have it,that we should feel towarda friend only just what wefeel toward ourselves; forhow many things we areready to do for our friends

which we would never dofor ourselves I In their

behalf we will request, andeven beg, favors of thosewhom we despise, or at-tack some one bitterly oreven with violence— actswhich would not be properif done for ourselves but

which are most honorable

when performed for our86

friends. There are also

many ways in which goodmen diminish their owncomforts, and suffer themto be diminished, in or-

der that their friends mayenjoy them instead.The second opinion,

which limits friendship to

an exactly equal inter-

change of good-will and

good offices, is also inad-missible ; for it minutely

and meanly reduces affec-tion to a matter of reckon-

ing— a balancing of debitsand credits. True friend-ship, on the other hand,seems to me to be too richand liberal to considernicely whether it is return-

ing more than it has re-

87

ceived. In filling the

measure offriendship thereshould be no fear lestsomething should leak outor fall to the ground, or

lest more than the dueamount should be put in.

But the third rule— thateach should be valued byhis friends as he values

himself— is the meanestof all ; for there are manywho are apt to become de-pressed about themselves

and to have little hope ofbettering their fortunes. It

is the duty of a friend,

therefore, not to be to such

an one what he is to him-self, but on the contrary

to endeavor to lighten his

disheartenment and give

88

him fresh hope and pleas-anter thoughts.

It remains, then, for us

to estabhsh another Hmitfor true friendship ; but

first let me tell you whatScipio was wont to censuremost of all. He used to as-sert that nothingmore inim-ical to friendship could be

found than the saying thatwe ought to love as if atsome future time we mighthave occasion to hate; norcould he be brought to be-lieve that this— as is com-monly supposed— was amaxim of Bias ^^, who wasregarded as one of the -

seven wise men; but hethought it to be rather theopinion of some sordid

89

seeker after honors whowould make everythingserve his own ends. Forhow could anv one be afriend to one to whom, atthe same time, he thoughthe might be an enemy?Nay, it would even benecessary strongly to de-

sire that our friend mightoffend as often as possible,

in order that he mightgive us, as it were, manyhandles for reproof; and,

on the other hand to bedistressed, pained, and of-

fended by everythingfriends do that is right

and obliging. This maxim,therefore, whoever origi-

nated it, amounts to the

destruction of friendship.

90

The true rule, on the con-trary, he said, is that weshould use such care in

selecting our friends that

we would never begin tolove one whom we couldever hate. Even if we arenot very fortunate in our

choice of friends, it is bet-

ter, Scipio thought, to putup with our bad luck,than to consider the possi-

bility of future enmity.

These, in my opinion,are to be taken as the termsof friendship ; that whenthe characters ofthe friends

are without blame, theremay be between them acomplete community ofall interests, plans, and de-sires; and that if occasion

91

comes to aid friends bypromoting wishes of theirsthat are not strictly right,

and their lives or reputa-tions are at stake, it is per-

missible to deviate fromthe path of rectitude, pro-

vided no great dishonor re-sult : since there is a point

up to which such indul-gence can be granted tofriendship. But our goodreputation ought not tobe neglected, nor should

we regard the good-will ofour fellow-citizens as an

unimportant aid in the

conduct of our affairs,

though it is base to seek

it by complaisance andflattering assent; and vir-

tue, which wins the affec-

92

tion of our fellows, oughtleast of all to be sacrificed.

But he used to com-plain— for I return oftento Scipio, who spoke onevery opportunity about

friendship— that men areless painstaking in friend-

ship than in other mat-

ters. Every one knows,he would say, how manygoats and sheep he has,but he cannot tell the

number of his friends; andmen use care in choosingtheir cattle, but are care-less in selecting their

friends, nor have they anycriteria by which they candistinguish those who aresuited to friendship fromthose who are not. Those

93

should be chosen as friends

who are firm, steadfast, andunchangeable— a kind ofman of which there is agreat scarcity, and whichcan hardly be distinguished

without considerable ex-

perience ; this experience,

however, can be obtained

only in friendship itself;

and so friendship outrunsthe judgment, and makesa fair experiment impossi-

ble. It is therefore the

part of a prudent man tohold in check the impulse

of good-will, as one holds

a chariot in its course,

that, just as we use onlywell-tried horses, we mayuse in friendship only

friends whose characters

94

have been in some meas-ure tested.

The worthlessness ofsome friends appears inmatters involving a little

money; while others, whoare not atfected by a small

pecuniary consideration

show their true characterwhen the amount is large.And even if there are somewho regard it as sordid tothink more of money thanof their friends, where shall

we find men who will notprefer to friendship public

honors, civil office, mili-

tary commands, power, andresources, and, when theclaims of friendship are

placed on the one hand,and these objects of ambi-

95

tion on the other, will not

promptly choose the lat-ter? For human natureis too weak to despisepower; and those whorise to place and power onthe ruins of friendship be-

lieve that their fault will

be overlooked, because

they neglected friendship

for so weighty a reason.

Accordingly, true friend-

ships are seldom foundamong those who are inpublic office and bear theburdens and honors of

the state. For where will

you find one who will pre-fer the advancement ofhis friend in public office

and honors to his own ?Why should I say more '?

96

To pass over this adverseinfluence of ambition, howdifficult and how burden-some seems to most menparticipation in the mis-

fortunes of others I— a fel-lowship to which few con-descend. Though Enniussays rightly, " The faith-ful friend is seen whenfortune wavers," yet byone of two things are mostpeople convicted of fickle-

ness and weakness,—eitherby despising their friendsin their own prosperity,or by deserting them intheir adversity. Who-ever, in either particular,

has proved himself noble,unswerving, and steadfastin friendship deserves to

7 97

be regarded as belonging

to a very rare and almostdivine class of men.The chief support of

that stability and con-stancy which we seek infriendship is good faith

:

for nothing is stable thatis unfaithful. Moreover,the choice of a friend

should fall upon one whois sincere, congenial, and

interested in the samethings that interest us: andall these things pertain to

fidelity, since a nature that

is faithful cannot also be

fickle and wily, nor canone who does not sharehis friend's interests, and is

not like-minded, be faith-

ful and steadfast. To this98

is to be added that oneshould never take pleasure

in finding fault with one's

friends, nor be ready to

believe the charges that

may be brought againstthem : this, too, is essentialto the constancy of whichI have just spoken. Fromthis it follows, as I said at

the beginning, that true

friendship can exist only

between the good. For itis the part of a good man— and we may also say ofa wise man, since they areidentical— to hold fast infriendship to two things:namely, first to avoid allpretense and dissimula-tion, since it is moreworthy of a frank man to

99

hate openly than to hidehis feelings by his looks;and second, not only torepel accusations that are

brought against his friendby others but also not tobe suspicious himself nor

be always thinking that

his friend has done some-thing to offend him. Thereshould also be a certain

gentleness and courtesy ofmanners and of conversa-tion, for this gives friend-

ship not a little of its rel-

ish. For melancholy and

a prevailing austerity of

manner lend dignity, it istrue ; but friendship should

be more cheerful, more un-constrained, more genial,and more disposed to all

that promotes good-fel-

lowship and affability.

At this point arises aquestion of slight diffi-

culty, namely, whethernevv

friends who are worthyof our friendship are ever

to be preferred to the old,

as we prefer young andfresh horses to those that

are old and worn out. Un-worthy doubt I For thereought to be no satiety infriendship as there is in

other things, but, like wines

that improve with age, theolder it is the more deli-cious it should be ; andthe proverb is true, that

many pecks of salt mustbe eaten together ere the

work of friendship is fully

done. New friendships, if,like thrifty plants, they

give promise of fruit, arenot, of course, to be re-

jected, but old friends

must keep their ownplaces in our hearts : for

great is the value of long-

continued companionship.

Nay, one would rather usethe horse— to recur tothat illustration— towhichhe is accustomed, provided

he is still sound, than one

that is strange and illbroken. Moreover, habit

has this power with regardto inanimate as well as ani-

mate things, for we are de-lighted by those scenes inwhich we have long dwelt,however rough and rugged

they may be with moun-tains and forests.

It is very important in

friendship to conduct one-

self as an equal with inti-

mates who are one's infe-riors; for in a group offriends it often happens

that some surpass the restin ability or character, as

did Scipio in our flock—if I may use the word.Yet he avoided all assump-tion of superiority to Phi-

lus," or to Rupilius,^^ or

to Mummius, or to anyof his less distinguished

friends ; nay, he always re-

garded as his superior, onaccount of greater age, hisbrother Maximus,59 whowas a very excellent man,

103

but by no means Scipio'sequal; and he wished allhis friends to becomericher and more distin-guished through his aid.

In this all ought to copyhim, and if they have at-tained some preeminencein virtue, talent, or for-

tune, ought to impart it to,and share it with, those towhom they are most closelyrelated. Thus, if one is

born of humble parents, orhas relatives who are infe-rior in ability or fortune,

he ought to increase theirwealth and bestow honor

and dignity upon them

;

just as in legends those

who have lived for a whileas menials, in ignorance of

104

their true birth and de-

scent, and have been dis-

covered to be the sons of

kings or of the gods, retain

their affection for the shep-

herds whom for many yearsthey have supposed to be

their fathers. To act thustoward fathers who areknown to be such in real-ity there is, ofcourse, muchgreater obligation : for the

best fruits of talent, of vir-

tue, and of every kind ofpreeminence, are really

ours only when we bestowthem upon our nearest anddearest.

While those who pos-sess this superiority in the

bond of friendship, or inany other relationship,

105

ought to put themselveson an equaHty with theirinferiors, it is equally true

that the latter ought notto be vexed on findingthemselves excelled bytheir friends in talents, for-

tune, or rank ; yet most ofthem are always findingsome reason for complaints,or even for reproaches, es-pecially if they think that

they can point to someservice which they haverendered dutifully, with

affection, and with the ex-penditure of considerable

effort. Men of this kind,who are always casting inyour teeth the favors they

have done you, are, of

course, most offensive : for

io6

favors ought to be remem-bered by the one who hasreceived them, but they

should not be mentioned

by the one who conferredthem. Accordingly, in

friendship, those who aresuperior ought to conde-

scend to those who are be-low them, and ought also,

as far as possible, to raise

their inferiors up to theirown level. For there aresome who turn friendshipinto a nuisance when theythink that their friends

hold them in low esteem;though this is scarcely ever

the fact except in the case

of those who have buta poor opinion of them-selves. Those who feel

107

thus should be raised in

their own esteem byfriendly words and deeds.The amount, however,

that ought to be bestowedon any one should bemeasured first by whatyou are yourself able toaccomplish, and secondlyby what the one whomyou love and would aidhas the capacity to receive

;

for however great may beyour abilities and influ-

ence, you cannot lift allyour friends to the high-

est dignities. Thus Scipiowas able to bring aboutthe election of Publius

Rupilius^° to the consul-

ship, but he could not doas much for Rupilius'

io8

brother Lucius.^' Butevenif you are able to do any-thing you wish for another,you ought to consider hiscapacity.

In general, friendships

can best be judged whenmaturity of years and char-acter has been reached; nor

need we think that we musthold as fast friends all our

lives those who wxre, inyouth, our companions inhunting or in games, andto whom we were attachedbecause they liked the

same sports. For on suchgrounds those who wereour nurses and slave atten-dants in childhood would,on account of long inti-macy, demand the most

109

affection ; nor ought theyto be neglected, thoughthey should occupy in ourregard a different position

from that which our friendshold. Friendships whichdo not thus receive thesanction of mature judg-

ment, but are based merely

on early association, can-not last. For unlike char-

acters result from unHkepursuits, and such dispar-

ity destroys friendships;

nor is there any reason

why the good cannot befriends of the bad, nor the

bad of the good, except

that the diversity between

them, both in character

and pursuits, is the very

greatest that is possible.

It is well, also, to lay

down the rule that im-moderate affection should

not, as often happens, be

permitted to stand in the

way of important ser-vices that friends can ren-

der. Thus— to borrowanother illustration fromthe legends— Neoptole-mus^'' could not have taken

Troy if he had been will-ing to listen to Lycome-des^^ who had brought himup, and who, with manytears, attempted to dis-

suade himfromhisjourney.There are also importantoccasions when for a timefriends must part; andwhoever desires to preventthis, because he cannot en-

dure the grief which ab-sence brings, is weak andunmanly in character, andfor that very reason an im-

perfect friend. In short, one

should in all things con-

sider what one may askfrom a friend, and whatone can allow his friend

to obtain from him.The breaking-off of

friendships is sometimes,

however, a misfortune that

cannot be avoided ; and

in saying this I descend

from the intimacies of the

wise to ordinary friend-

ships. Often faults are

committed by friends eitheragainst their intimates or

against strangers, and in

the latter case the shame

is reflected upon those whoare their friends. In such

cases it is well to get rid

of friendship by lesseningintercourse, and, as I have

heard that Cato said, bydrawing out the threads

rather than bycutting themasunder; unless the offense

that has been committedis so unendurable that it is

neither honorable nor right

that the separation should

not be effected at once.

But if some change ofcharacter or of pursuits

has occurred, as is often

the case, or if a difference

of opinion with regard to

public affairs has arisen,

— I am speaking, as Ihave just said, not of the

«* 113

friendships of the wisebut of ordinary ones,

—

one should take care lestthere may seem to be notmerely an abandonmentof friendship, but also a

kindling of enmity; fornothing is more repul-sive than to become anenemy to one with whomyou have lived as anintimate friend. Scipio,

as you know, gave up, onmy account, his friendlyrelations with QuintusPompeius ; ^^ he was alsoalienated by certain po-litical differences from

our colleague Metellus ; ^^

but in both cases he

acted with dignity, and

without an offensive use

114

of his personal authority

or bitter hostiHty.

Accordingly, we shouldfirst of all endeavor to pre-

vent disaffection from

coming between friends ;but when anything of thekind has happened, let

our friendships seem to die

a natural death rather than

to be destroyed with vio-

lence. See to it, also, that

friendships do not becometransformed into bitter en-

mities, from which springwranglings, abuse, and in-sults; yet if these can in

any way be borne theyshould be endured, and inthis way the friendship thatis gone should be honored,that he who inflicts the

"5

injury may be seen to bein the wrong, not he whosuffers it. Against all these

errors and misfortunesthere is one preventive andguaranty— the avoidanceof haste in forming attach-ments and the choice ofworthy objects of affection.

Those, moreover, are

worthy of friendship inwhose very nature there isa reason why they shouldbe loved. But how fewsuch men there are *? In-deed all things that are

excellent are rare, andnothing is harder than to

find anything that is, in

every respect, perfect of

its kind. The majority ofmen, moreover, recognize

ii6

nothing in human affairsas good unless it yieldssome return, and they lovethose friends most — asthey do their cattle— fromwhoQi they hope to obtainthe most profit. Thus theylack that loveliest andmost natural form offriend-ship which is sought forits own sake only; nor dotheyknow from experiencehow beautiful and howlofty such friendship is.

One loves oneself not thatone may exact from one-self pay for one's love, butbecause each of us is bynature dear to himself

But unless this same feel-ing is transferred to friend-

ship, a true friend can

117

never be found ; for sucha friend is, as it were, a

second self Now if wefind that all animals—birds, fishes, and beasts,tame and wild— first lovethemselves (for that is an

instinct natural to every

living thing), and then de-sire and seek others oftheir kind to which theymay attach themselves,and do this with affectionand something that looks

very much like humanlove, how much more nat-ural is this in man, whoboth loves himself and also

demands another whoseheart shall be so blended

with his that the two shallalmost become one soul I

ii8

Most, however, per-

versely— not to say shame-lessly— desire to havefriends whose character iswhat their own cannot be ;and they demand fromthem what they cannotthemselves give in return.

The right course, however,is for one to be first of all a

good man and then to seekout another like himself

Insuchmenthatstabilityof

friendship which I touchedupon a little while ago canbe perfected; since whenthey are united in mutualgood-will they will curb

those lower desires bywhich others are enslaved.They will also delight inuprightness and justice,

119

and each will bear any-thing for the other's sake,

nor will either ask fromthe other anything that isnot honorable and right

:

fthey will not only cherishand love, they will evenreverence one another/^For to take away mutuafrespect is to remove thechoicest ornament offriendship. Accordingly,

they commit a most harm-ful error w^ho suppose that

friendship opens the door

to lust and evil practicesof all kinds, ror naturehas given us friendship,

not as a companion to thevices, but as an assistant

to the virtues, in order that

with its help virtue may

reach heights to which un-aided it could not attain.

If any now have, or havepossessed, or shall attain

such fellowship, it should

be regarded as the very

best and happiest compan-ionship that is possible,

since it leads to the high-

est good that nature has togive. This, I say, is the

fellowship in which are allthings that men deem wor-thy ofpursuit,— honorablecharacter, fame, peace of

mind, and joy,— so thatwith these things life is

happy, but without themit can have no happinessat all.

But if we would attainthis highest and best of

good things, we must be atpains to cultivate virtue,

for without it we can se-cure neither friendship nor

anything else that is worthseeking. If it is neglected,

those who think that theypossess true friends find,

when some serious emer-gency forces them to puttheir friends to the test, that

they have made a grievousmistake. Accordingly—for this should often be re-

peated— it is best to loveafter you have reached afull and deliberate judg-ment, and not to form

your judgment after youhave loved. But we areblamable for negligence

in many things, and espe-

cially in the choosing and

retaining ot friends : for weadopt plans that begin at

the wrong end, and doover again what has al-

ready been done, which

is forbidden by the oldproverb. After we haveformed a close mutual at-

tachment through daily in-

tercourse or interchange

of good offices, suddenly,in mid career, some oc-casion of offense arises

and our friendship is

broken off.

This great lack of care,

moreover, is especially

blameworthy in a matterof such very great impor-

tance ; for friendship is the

only thing in human af-123

fairs about whose useful-ness men agree unanim-ously. Even virtue isdepreciated by many, whosay that it is a sort of os-

tentatious display and pre-tense. Many scorn riches,since they are content with

a little, and are satisfiedwith frugal fare and a sim-ple style of living; public

honors, also, which arousethe eager desire of some,

are scorned by others whothink that nothing can be

more idle or more trifling;and the same is true of allthe other things which tosome seem admirable, forthere are always very manyothers who regard them asof not the slightest account.

124

About friendship, how-ever, all, to the last man,

agree— whether they de-vote themselves to politics

or take pleasure in philo-

sophical studies, or carry

on their business apart from

public affairs, or, finally,

are wholly absorbed in the

pursuit ot pleasure— thatwithout friendship there

can be no life worth liv-

ing, provided they desire

to live to any extent asbecomes men who are notslaves.

For friendship entwinesitself somehow about thelives of all; nor is anymode of life unacquaintedwith it. Nay, even whenone is so bitter and mis-

125

anthropical that he hates

and shuns society,— likeTiinon of Athens in thelegend, if there ever wassuch a person,— he stillmust have some one intowhose ears he can pourhis gall. As the best il-lustration of this universal

need, suppose— if such athing could happen— thatsome god should take usaway from the haunts ofmen and place us some-where in solitude, supply-

ing us with all and morethan all that human naturecraves, but denying us ab-

solutely the privilege of

looking upon the face of afellow-being. Who is ofmetal tough enough to en-

126

dure such a life ? Wouldnot this solitude destroy,

for anyone, the enjoyment

of every kind of pleasure ?

That saying, therefore, istrue which, if I am notmistaken, was handeddown through our elders,from those older than they,

as originating with Archy-tas^^ of Tarentum— thateven if one should ascendinto the heavens, and seeclearly into the nature of

the universe and beholdthe splendor of the stars,all these wonderful andentrancing things wouldgive him no delight unlesshe had some friend towhom he could describethem, i Thus human na-

127

ture loves not to be soli-

tary, but always leans, asit were, on some support

;

and the sweetest of all suchsupports is a very loving

friend. / But while naturein so "'many ways makesknown what she wishes,requires, and longs for,we, somehow or other,grow deaf and do not hearher admonitions.

There are numeroiis anddiverse modes of inter-course between friends, and

many causes of suspicionaiid offense arise which it

is the part of a wise mansometimes to avoid, some-

times to lessen, and some-

times to endure. Onecause of offense, however,

128

must always be endured,that friendship may retainits utility and good faithbe kept between friends;

for friends should often

be admonished and evensharply reproved, and suchreproof when kindly givenshould be received in a

friendly spirit. Yet some-how it is true, as my friendTerence ^^ says in his " An-dria," that " complaisance

begets friends, truth ha-

tred." Truth is, indeed,troublesome if in fact ha-

tred, which is the bane offriendship, is begotten byit; but complaisance is

much more injurious be-cause by weak indulgenceof wrong-doing it permits

9 129

a friend to be borne head-

long into evil; the greatest

guilt, however, is his whospurns the truth and letshimself be carried away bythe complacency of hisfriends into self-deception.

Accordingly, as regards

this whole matter, weshould be extremely care-

ful to keep our advice freefrom harshness, and ourreproof from bitterness

;

in complacency (so far asit is right) on the other

hand— for I use with plea-sure the words of Terence— let courtesy be present,but let flattery, that hand-

maid of the vices, be keptfar away, since it is un-

worthy not only of a friend

130

but ofany man who is not aslave. For it is one thing

to live with a tyrant, and

another to live with a

friend.

There is no salvation forthe man whose ears are sotightly closed to the truth

that he will not hear it

from a friend. This say-ing of Cato's— like manyothers — is well-known :" Many owe more to theirbitter enemies than to the

friends that seem sweet;for the former often tell

them the truth, the latternever." And it is absurdfor those who receive ad-monition not to be troubledby that which ought todistress them, but, on the

131

contrary, to be irritated bythat which ought to givethem no annoyance. Thatthey have done wrongdoes not trouble them; itis the reproof that they

find hard to bear; they

ought, on the contrary, togrieve over their sins andrejoice in correction.

Since, then, it is essen-

tial to true friendship both

to give and to receive ad-monition, and to do theone freely and kindly andthe other patiently andwillingly, it should be ad-

mitted that there is nogreater plague of friend-

ship than sycophancy,

complacency, and flattery;

for this vice of unprinci-

132

pled and treacherous men,

who in all they say seekto gratify the wishes of

their friends, and have noregard for the truth, ought

to be branded under as

many names as possible.While insincerity is in allcases reprehensible,— be-cause it defiles the truth

and takes away the powerof judging it,— it is es-pecially antagonistic to

friendship, since it de-

stroys truthfulness, without

which the name of friend-ship has no significance.For the power of friend-ship lies in this, that several

souls are, as it were, united

in one ; but how can thisbe effected unless the mind

133

of each and every one isalways one and the same,and not variable, change-able, and manifold? Andwhat can be so pliant, sovariable, as the mind ofone who is turned aboutlike a weathercock, not

only by the views andwishes of another, but evenby his look and nod?

" If any one says no, Isay no ; if yes, I say yes

;

in short, my rule is to as-sent to everything," as

Terence says, but in the

character of Gnatho.^^ Tohave anything to do withfriends of this sort is utter

folly. Yet there are manylike Gnatho who are hissuperiors in lineage, for-

134

tune, and reputation, andwhose flattery Is more in-jurious, since their influ-

ence gives weight to their

empty words.Moreover, a smooth-

tongued friend may beknown and distinguishedfrom a true one, by theuse of proper care, asreadily as other disguised

and counterfeited thingscan be discriminated fromwhat is real and genuine.Even the popular assembly,though it consists of peo-ple without experience in

public affairs, is wont tonote the difference betweena demagogue— that is, onewho is a mere flatterer andtrifler— and a steadfast,

135

weighty, and dignifiedcitizen. With what al-luring words Caius Papi-rius^9 lately filled the ears

of the assembly when heproposed the law for the

reelection of the tribunes

of the people! I opposedit; but I would ratherspeak of Scipio than of

myself. So imposing, yeimmortal gods, was the

dignity of his manner, so

great was the majesty ofhis address, that one might

easily have thought himto be the leader of the

Roman people rather thana private citizen ! But you

were present and his speech

is in everybody's hands.

The result was that the136

demagogical law was re-jected by the votes of thepeople. But, to return to

myself, you rememberhow popular, in the con-sulship of Quintus Maxi-mus, the brother of Scipio,

and Lucius Mancinus,seemed to be the law ofCaius Licinius Crassus^^

about the priests, by whichthe power of filling vacan-cies in the colleges ofpriests was to be takenaway from those bodiesand made a privilege ofthe people. Crassus then

first introduced the customof turning toward theforum 7^ to address thepeople. Yet when I arosein its defense, the religion

137

ofthe immortal gods easilyovercame his plausiblespeech. This happenedwhen I was praetor, fiveyears before I became con-sul; hence the cause waswon more by its ownmerits than through anygreat influence of mine.

But if on the stage,

—

that is, in the popular as-

sembly, which is much thesame thing,— where thereis the most favorable op-

portunity for the play of

fancy and illusion, thetruth produces such a

mighty effect when it ispresented clearly and

sharply, what ought to be

its effect in friendship

which depends entirely

138

upon truthfulness ? Forin friendship you can havenothing that can be trusted,

nothing sure, unless, as

they say, you can lookinto the open heart ofyourfriend and reveal yourown

; you cannot even becertain of loving or being

loved, since you cannotknow how much of realitythere may be in either.And yet that flattery whichI last mentioned, harmfulas it is, can injure only the

one who accepts it and ispleased by it. And so ithappens that he who flat-ters himself and is exces-sively pleased with him-self is the one who mostreadily turns a willing ear

139

to flatterers. Virtue, to be

sure, loves itself, for it best

knows itself and under-stands how lovable it is

:

but I am not speakingnow of virtue, but of anexaggerated belief in one's

own virtue : and the num-ber of those endowed withreal virtue is not so great

as of those who desire toappear to possess it. Suchmen are delighted by flat-tery; and when lyingwords, chosen to suit their

wishes, are addressed to

them, they think that such

deceitful speeches bear

witness to their exalted

merits.

Friendship, therefore, in

which one party does not

140

want to hear the truth and

the other is ready to lie is

not friendship at all. Norwould the flatteries placedin the mouths of parasiteson the comic stage amuseus if there were not also

in the plays braggadocios ^^

to be fooled by them." Heartily, ofcourse, did

Thais thank me*?"73 It

would have been enoughto reply : " Yes, heartily."

But the parasite says: "Tre-mendously I " The flat-terer always exaggerates

what the one whose ear heis tickling wishes to have

seem great. Yet, whilesuch glib deceitfulness in-

fluences only those whothemselves attract and in-

141

vite it, even those whohave more sober and stead-fast minds ought to be ad-vised to beware less theybe caught by flatteryof a more cunning kind.No one, unless he is verystupid, fails to detect anopen flatterer; but it iswell to take care that the

clever and sly flatterer doesnot worm his way into ourconfidence. For it is noteasy to recognize him ; es-pecially since he often flat-

ters by offering oppositionand pleases by feigning todispute, and then at theend throws up his handsand admits defeat in orderthat the one he is deluding

may think himself the142

clearer-headed man. But

what is more shameful than

to be played with in this

fashion '? Look out that itdoes not happen to you as

in the play:^^ "To-dayyou've hoaxed and cheated

me beyondthe lot ofstupidold men in the comedies."For in comic plays the

most ridiculous characters

are those of unwary andcredulous old men.

But in some way mydiscourse has wanderedfrom the friendships of per-

fect men, that is, of thewise—I speak, of course,of such wisdom as can fallto the lot of man — tothose of a less weighty

kind. Let us revert, then,

143

briefly to the former topic,and then bring this alsoto a conclusion.

It is virtue, I say, Caius

Fannius and Ouintus Mu-cius— it is virtue thatboth induces and pre-serves friendships; for in

it are agreement in allthings, stability, and stead-fastness. When it hasexhibited itself, and hasshed abroad its beams, andhas perceived and recog-nized the same light inanother, it approaches that

light and receives in turnwhat the other has to im-part; and from this inter-

change love or friendship— call it which you will— is enkindled. For both

144

these words are, in Latin,

derived from " loving.""

Moreover^ to love is noth-

ing but to have affection

for the one you love, with-out any thought of a needon your part which he canrelieve, or of any servicethat he can render; thoughsuch service, however littleyou may have sought it,will blossom out the fairestflower of friendship.

With su