The Republic and The Laws (Oxford World's Classics)

by Cicero

  41

  Most foolish of all is the belief that everything decreed by the institutions or laws of a particular country is just. What if the laws are the laws of tyrants? If the notorious Thirty* had wished to impose their laws on Athens, even if the entire population of Athens welcomed the tyrants’ laws, should those laws on that account be considered just? No more, in my opinion, should that law be considered just which our interrex* passed, allowing the Dictator to execute with impunity any citizen he wished, even without trial. There is one, single, justice. It binds together human society and has been established by one, single, law. That law is right reason in commanding and forbidding. A man who does not acknowledge this law is unjust, whether it has been written down anywhere or not. If justice is a matter of obeying the written laws and customs of particular communities, and if, as our opponents* allege, everything is to be measured by self-interest, then a person will ignore and break the laws when he can, if he thinks it will be to his own advantage. That is why justice is completely nonexistent if it is not derived from nature, and if that kind of justice which is established to serve self-interest is wrecked by that same self-interest. And that is why every virtue is abolished if nature is not going to support justice.

  42

  43

  What room will there be for liberality, patriotism, and devotion; or for the wish to serve others or to show gratitude? These virtues are rooted in the fact that we are inclined by nature to have a regard for others; and that is the basis of justice. Moreover, not just our services to other men, but also ceremonies and rituals in honour of the gods will be abolished—practices which, in my view, should be retained, not out of fear, but in consequence of the association between man and God. If on the other hand laws were validated by the orders of peoples, the enactments of politicians, and the verdicts of judges, then it would be just to rob, just to commit adultery, just to introduce forged wills, provided those things were approved by the votes or decrees of the populace.

  If there is such power in the decisions and decrees of foolish people that they can overturn the nature of things by their votes, why do they not enact that things wicked and destructive should be deemed good and wholesome? And why is it that, if a law can make what is unjust just, it cannot turn evil into good? But in fact we can distinguish a good law from a bad one solely by the criterion of nature. And not only justice and injustice are differentiated by nature,* but all things without exception that are honourable and dishonourable. For nature has created perceptions which we have in common, and has sketched them in our minds in such a way that we classify honourable things as virtues and dishonourable things as vices.

  It is insane to suppose that these things are matters of opinion and not grounded in nature. The so-called ‘virtue’* of a tree or a horse* (which is actually a misuse of the word) does not depend on opinion but on nature. If that is so, then honourable and dishonourable things too must be distinguished by nature. If moral excellence as a whole were certified by opinion, the same would apply to its parts. In that case who would judge a wise and, shall we say, shrewd man, not on the basis of his natural character but of some external factor? No, moral excellence is reason fully developed, and that is certainly grounded in nature; the same goes for everything that is honourable. Just as true and false, logical and illogical, are judged in their own terms and not by some external criterion, so a consistent mode of life (which is right) and likewise inconsistency (which is wrong) will be tested by their own nature. Or shall we judge the quality of a tree or a horse by nature and not likewise the qualities of young men?* Or should character be judged by nature, and yet the virtues and vices which come from character be judged in some other way? If they are judged in the same way, will it not be necessary to judge what is honourable* and what is dishonourable by nature too? Every praiseworthy good must have within itself something to be praised. Goodness itself is good not because of people’s opinions but because of nature. If that were not the case, happy people would be happy too because of opinion; and what could be sillier than that? Since, then, good and bad are judged to be so on the basis of nature, and they are fundamental principles of nature, surely things which are honourable and dishonourable must also be judged by the same method and assessed by the standard of nature.

  45

  46

  Yet we are confused by the variety and incompatibility of men’s opinions;* and because the same disagreement does not occur in regard to the senses, we think the senses are reliable by nature whereas we brand as illusory those ideas that vary from one person to another and do not always remain consistent within the same person. This distinction is far from the truth. In the case of our senses no parent or nurse or teacher or poet or stage-show distorts them, nor does popular opinion lead them astray. For our minds, however, all kinds of traps are laid, either by the people just mentioned, who on receiving young untrained minds stain them and twist them as they please, or else by that power which lurks within, entwined with every one of our senses, namely pleasure, which masquerades as goodness but is in fact the mother of all ills. Seduced by her charms, our minds fail to see clearly enough the things that are naturally good, because those things lack the sweetness and the exciting itch of pleasure.

  47

  To bring this whole discourse of mine to an end—the conclusion is obvious from what has been said, namely that one should strive after justice and every moral virtue for their own sake. All good men love what is fair in itself and what is right in itself. It is not in character for a good man to make the mistake of loving what is not intrinsically lovable; therefore what is right should be sought and cultivated for itself. If this applies to what is right, it also applies to justice; and if it applies to justice, then the other virtues, too, should be cultivated for themselves. What about generosity? Is it free or for profit? When a person is open-handed without reward, it’s free; when he’s looking for a profit, it’s an investment. There is no doubt that a person who is called generous and open-handed has duty* in mind, not gain. So likewise justice looks for no prize and no price; it is sought for itself, and is at once the cause and meaning of all the virtues.

  48

  Furthermore, if goodness is sought for its advantages, not for itself,* then there will be one virtue only; and that will most properly be called selfishness. For where each person measures his actions totally by his own advantage, to that extent he totally falls short of being a good man. Hence to those who estimate goodness by its rewards selfishness is the only admirable quality. Where is a generous person to be found if no one acts kindly for the sake of another? What becomes of gratitude if people are not seen to be grateful* to the person to whom they owe thanks? Where is that holy thing, friendship,* if no one loves a friend wholeheartedly, as they say, for his own sake? Why, a friend must be cast off and abandoned if he offers no hope of profit and reward; and what can be more barbaric than that? If friendship is to be cherished for its own sake, then human fellowship and fairness and justice are also to be sought for their own sake. If that is not so, there is no such thing as justice at all. For the worst kind of injustice is to look for profit from justice.

  49

  What are we to say of restraint, temperance, and self-control? What of modesty, decency, and chastity? Do people avoid vice for fear of disgrace or of laws and lawcourts? Are they innocent and decent in order to be well spoken of? Do they blush in order to win a good reputation? I am ashamed to talk about the sense of shame, ashamed to speak of those philosophers who think it is honourable* to aim at avoiding condemnation without avoiding the vice itself. Well then, can we call those people pure who are deterred from lechery by the fear of disgrace, when that very disgrace reflects the vileness of the thing itself? What can be properly praised or blamed if you ignore the essential nature of what you think should be praised or blamed? Are physical defects, if they are very noticeable, to cause some degree of aversion, while the deformities of the soul are not? A soul’s ugliness can easily be
inferred from its vices. What can be called more revolting than greed, more bestial than lust, more despicable than cowardice, more abject than dullness and stupidity? What then? Take those people who are conspicuous for one (or more than one) vice. Do we call them wretched because of the losses or damages or pain they suffer, or because of the power and ugliness of their vices? Conversely, the same point can be made positively in the case of goodness.

  50

  51

  Finally, if goodness is pursued for the sake of other things, there must be something better than goodness. So is it money or high office or beauty or health? Such things, even when present, are not significant; and how long they are going to remain present is quite unknowable. Or is it pleasure (a most disgraceful suggestion)? But it is in scorning and rejecting pleasure that goodness is most convincingly revealed.

  52

  You see how long the series of topics and arguments is, and how each is linked to the one before? Indeed I would have run on much longer had I not restrained myself.

  52–7. Definitions of the Highest Good

  QUINTUS: In what direction, may I ask? For, as far as your talk is concerned, I would gladly run on with you.

  MARCUS: Towards the ultimate good,* which is the standard and goal of every action. It is a matter of lively controversy and disagreement among the best thinkers; yet at long last one must come to a decision about it.

  ATTICUS: How can that be done now that Lucius Gellius is no longer alive?

  53

  MARCUS: What on earth has that to do with it?

  ATTICUS: I remember hearing in Athens from my dear Phaedrus that your friend Gellius, when he went to Greece as proconsul after his praetorship, brought together all the philosophers who were then in Athens and urged them with great earnestness to put an end to their controversies; if they genuinely wished to stop wasting their lives in futile squabbles, agreement could be reached; at the same time he promised to lend them his assistance in the hope of achieving that end.

  MARCUS: Yes, that was a joke, Pomponius, and it has caused many a laugh. But I’d be more than happy to serve as an arbitrator* between the Old Academy* and Zeno.

  ATTICUS: How do you mean?

  MARCUS: Because they differ about one thing only; on everything else they agree wonderfully.

  ATTICUS: YOU don’t say! Is there really just one point of dispute?

  MARCUS: Well, only one relevant point. Whereas the Old Academy held that everything in conformity with nature that helped us in life was good, Zeno thought that nothing was good unless it was honourable.

  54

  ATTICUS: Well, that’s no small disagreement, even if it’s not the sort to cause a total breach.

  MARCUS: You would be right if their disagreement were one of substance rather than words.

  ATTICUS: So you agree with my friend Antiochus* (I do not presume to call him my teacher). I once lived with him, and he almost dragged me out of our garden and brought me to within a few short steps of the Academy.

  MARCUS: He was certainly a wise and sharp man, and of his type a consummate thinker; he was also, as you know, a friend of mine. Whether I agree with him in everything or not is a matter which I shall consider presently. All I am saying now is that this whole dispute can be settled.

  ATTICUS: How do you make that out?

  55

  MARCUS: If, like Aristo of Chios, Zeno had said that only the honourable was good and only the base was bad, and that all other things were entirely neutral, and that it didn’t make the slightest difference whether they were present or not, then he would have been in serious dispute with Xenocrates, Aristotle, and the whole Platonic school; and they would have differed on a crucial issue affecting the whole theory of ethics. But as it is, while the Old Academy called what is honourable the highest good, Zeno calls it the only good. Likewise they called disgrace the worst evil, he calls it the only one. He classifies riches, health, and beauty as advantageous things,* not as good things, and poverty, ill-health, and pain as disadvantageous things, not as evils. In this he believes the same as Xenocrates and Aristotle but uses different terms. Yet from this disagreement (which is one of words, not of substance) a dispute has arisen about ultimate ends.* In this dispute, since the Twelve Tables do not permit squatters to obtain the rights of possessors* within five feet* of a boundary, we will not allow the ancient possessions of the Academy to be grazed on by this clever man, and we shall determine the ends in question not as a single judge according to the Mamilian Law* but as a Board of Three in accordance with the Twelve Tables.

  ATTICUS: So what verdict do we bring in?

  56

  MARCUS: We find that the markers laid down by Socrates* should be sought out and respected.

  QUINTUS: You are already using the terms of civil law and statutes most effectively, Marcus—a subject on which I look forward to hearing your exposition. The decision you have made is indeed important, as 1 have often heard you say. But there is no doubt about it: the highest good* is either to live according to nature (i.e. to enjoy a life of moderation governed by moral excellence) or to follow nature and live, so to speak, by her law (i.e. as far as possible to omit nothing in order to achieve what nature requires, which means the same as this:* to live, as it were, by the code of moral excellence). Hence I’m inclined to think that this question [about ends] can never be decided—certainly not in our present discussion, if we are to complete what we set out to do.

  MARCUS: I was following that detour quite happily!

  57

  QUINTUS: There’ll be another opportunity. Now let’s get on with what we started, especially as it’s not affected by this dispute about ultimate good and evil.

  MARCUS: A very sensible suggestion, Quintus. What I’ve said up to now . . . [In the lost portion Cicero is apparently asked to apply what has been said about justice to moral theory.]

  QUINTUS: ... (I am not asking) you to discuss the laws of Lycurgus or Solon or Charondas or Zaleucus, or those of our own Twelve Tables, or the resolutions of the people; but I expect you, in what you say today, to provide a code of living and a system of training for nations and individuals alike.

  58–63. Philosophy enables men to know themselves and their place in the natural order

  MARCUS: What you are looking for, Quintus, is certainly within the scope of this discussion; I wish it were also within my powers! There is no doubt that, as the law should correct wickedness and promote goodness, a code of conduct may be derived from it. That is why wisdom is the mother of all good things; the love of her gives us the word ‘philosophy’ from the Greek. Of all the gifts which the immortal gods have bestowed on human life none is richer or more abundant or more desirable. In addition to everything else, she alone taught us this most difficult lesson, namely to know ourselves—a precept of such power and significance that it was ascribed, not to any mortal, but to the god of Delphi.

  58

  The person who knows himself will first of all realize that he possesses something divine, and he will compare his own inner nature to a kind of holy image placed within a temple. His thoughts and actions will always be worthy of that priceless gift of the gods; and when he inspects and tests himself thoroughly he will see how well he has been equipped by nature on entering life, and what implements he has for acquiring and obtaining wisdom. At the beginning he will have conceived in his mind and spirit dim perceptions, so to speak, of everything. When these have been illuminated with the guidance of wisdom, he now realizes that he has the makings of a good man, and for that very reason a happy one.*

  59

  Once the mind, on perceiving and recognizing the virtues, has ceased to serve and gratify the body, and has expunged pleasure like a kind of discreditable stain; and once it has put behind it all fear of pain and death, and entered a loving fellowship with its own kind, regarding as its own kind all who are akin to it by nature; and once it has begun to worship the gods in a pure form of religion, and has sharpened the edge of the moral
judgement, like that of the eyes, so that it can choose the good and reject its opposite (a virtue which is called prudence from pro-vision)— what can be described or conceived as more blessed than such a mind?

  60

  And when that same mind examines the heavens, the earth, the 61 sea, and the nature of all things, and perceives where those things have come from and to where they will return, when and how they are due to die, what part of them is mortal and perishable, and what is divine and everlasting; and when it almost apprehends the very god who governs and rules them, and realizes that it itself is not a resident in some particular locality surrounded by man-made walls, but a citizen of the whole world* as though it were a single city; then, in the majesty of these surroundings, in this contemplation and comprehension of nature, great God! how well it will know itself, as the Pythian Apollo commanded, how it will disdain, despise, and count as nothing* those things that are commonly deemed so precious!

  61

  Moreover, it will surround all these things with a kind of stockade* consisting of verbal reasoning, expertise in judging what is true and false, and the art, as it were, of understanding the logical consequences of everything and what objections it encounters. And when it realizes that it has been born to join a fellowship of citizens, it will decide to use, not just that subtle method of arguing, but also a more expansive and continuous style* of speech. With such an instrument it will rule nations, reinforce laws, castigate the wicked, protect the good, praise eminent men, issue instructions for security and prestige in language which will persuade fellow-citizens; it will be able to inspire them to honourable actions and restrain them from disgrace; to console the afflicted, and to hand on the deeds and counsels of brave and wise men, along with the infamy of the wicked, in words that will last for ever. Those are the powers, so manifold and so momentous, that can be discerned in a human being by those who wish to know themselves. And the parent and nurse of those powers is wisdom.