XIX. 67. There arises,
however, at this point a certain problem which is attended by some difficulty, whether at
any time new friends, who are worthy of friendship, should be preferred to old ones, just
as we are accustomed to prefer young horses to old hacks. Doubt unworthy of man! For there
ought not to be satiety of friendships as there is of other things; all the oldest
friendships ought to be the sweetest, just as with those wines which bear age well; and
the proverbial saying is true, "many bushels of salt must be eaten together, that the
function of friendship may be fully carried out."
68. Now new friendships, provided they bring with them the hope that fruit
will appear, even as it does in blades of corn which do not disappoint their promise,
should not indeed be rejected, yet the old friendship should be preserved in its own
place; for the power of age and long custom is very great. Nay, even in the case of the
horse, of which I just now made mention, if no circumstance hinder, there is no one who
would not with greater pleasure use that which he has grown accustomed to use than one
that is unbroken and strange to him. And not only in this case, where an animal is
concerned, but in those things also which are inanimate, habit is strong, since we take
delight in those very places, though they be mountainous and woody, in which we have dwelt
for a considerable time.
69. But it is of the highest importance in friendship that the better man
should put himself on an equality with his inferior. For there are often certain instances
of superiority, such as was that of Scipio in our own flock, if I may so call it. He never
set himself before Philus, or Rupilius, or Mummius, or his friends of humbler rank; while
Quintus Maximus his brother, an admirable man it is true, but by no means equal to
himself, he used to honour as though he were his superior, because he surpassed him in
years; and he used to wish that all his friends could receive more dignity by his efforts.
70. And this ought to be done and imitated by all--that is, if they have
attained any preeminence in merit, genius, or fortune, they must communicate these things
with their friends and share them with their relations, so that if they are born from
humble parents, or have relations possessed of less genius or a humbler position than
their own, they may increase their influence, and be a credit and dignity to them. Just as
in legends, those who, owing to ignorance of their origin and family, have for some time
formed part of another's household, retain their affection for the shepherds, whom they
have looked upon as their fathers for many years, even after they have been recognized and
found to be sons of either gods or kings. And this ought much more to be done in the case
of real and undoubted fathers. For the fruit of talent and virtue and of every excellence
is then only gathered in greatest abundance, when it is conferred on all those nearest to
us. |
XX. 71. As therefore those
who are superior among a group of friends and relations ought to place themselves on a
level with their inferiors, so the inferiors ought not to feel chafed that they are
surpassed by their own friends either in ability or fortune or dignity. The majority of
these are either always complaining of some grievance or even upbraiding their friends;
and this they do all the more if they think they have something which they can point to as
done by themselves in a kind and friendly manner, and at the cost of some exertion.
Hateful, assuredly, is that class of persons who fling their good services in one's teeth;
the man upon whom these benefits have been conferred ought to be mindful of them, but he
who conferred them should not recall the fact.
72. Wherefore, just as those who are superior ought to humble themselves in
friendship, so in a certain sense ought they to raise up their inferiors. For there are
some persons who make a friendship a nuisance, when they fancy that they themselves are
slighted. As a rule, this only happens to those who have a suspicion that they deserve to
be slighted; and they must be relieved from this idea by deeds as well as by words. 73.
You must confer upon each of your friends, first, as much as you yourself can effect,
secondly, as much as as he whom you love and aid is able to bear. For no matter how high
your position, you could not carry through all your friends to the highest honours; just
as Scipio was strong enough to make Publius Rupilius consul, but could not do the same for
the latter's brother Lucius. But even if you were able to confer any benefit on another,
you must nevertheless see what he can bear.
74. On the whole we must form our judgment about friendships when both our
intellect and years have arrived at their full strength and maturity; nor if in early life
people have been fond of hunting or ball-playing, need they retain as intimate friends
those whom they loved at that time because they were endowed with the same tastes as
themselves. For on that principle our nurses and slave-attendants would demand the largest
share of kindly feeling by right of long-standing friendship: certainly they ought not to
be slighted; still they must be regarded in some other manner than our other friends. If
you do not wait until mature age, friendships cannot remain without alteration. For with
diversity of character there comes diversity of tastes, and dissimilarity in this respect
severs friendships; nor is there any other cause why the good cannot be friends with the
wicked, or the wicked with the good, except that there is between them the greatest
possible divergence of habits and tastes.
75. It may also be laid down as a principle in friendships, that a kind of
ill-regulated goodwill must not, as very often happens, be a hindrance to the important
interests of friends. To revert to the myths, Neoptolemus could never have taken Troy if
he had been willing to listen to Lycomedes, with whom he had been brought up, when he
tried with many tears to prevent his journey. And indeed weighty circumstances often
befall which make it necessary to part with friends; and the man who wishes to override
these, because, as he says, he cannot easily bear the loss of his friends, is naturally
weak and effeminate, and for that very cause far from upright in his friendship. 76. And
so on every occasion you must consider, both what you ought to demand from a friend, and
what you should allow to be obtained from yourself. |
XXI. There is also a kind
of calamity, sometimes inevitable, consisting in breaking off a friendship; for now our
discourse sinks from the intimacies of the wise down to common friendships. The faults of
friends often break out; sometimes they affect their friends, at other times they affect
strangers; yet even in the latter case the disgrace flows back upon their friends. Such
friendships therefore must be dissolved by the abatement of familiarity, and, as I have
heard Cato say, should be unravelled rather than rent, unless some utterly intolerable
wrong has blazed out, which renders it neither right, nor honourable, nor possible, that
estrangement and disunion should not take place forthwith. 77. But if in either habits or
tastes any change, as is wont to happen, has taken place, or disagreement has occurred
between political parties--for I speak now, as I said a little while ago, not of the
friendships of the wise, but of ordinary friendships--we must be on our guard, lest it
seem that not only are friendships laid aside, but animosities also are incurred. For
nothing is more disgraceful than to wage war with a man with whom you have lived on
familiar terms. Scipio, as you know, had broken off, on my account, his friendship with
Quintus Pompeius, and by reason of the disagreement there was in the state, he was
estranged from my colleague Metellus; yet on both occasions he acted with dignity, and
moderation, and displeasure which showed no bitterness.
78. Wherefore we must, in the first place, take care that no ruptures between
friends occur; but if anything of the kind should take place, that the friendship may seem
rather to have died out than to have been forcibly extinguished. And we must indeed be on
our guard that friendships do not turn even into bitter hatreds: from them quarrels, foul
words, and insults are bred. These however must be put up with if they are endurable, and
this honour should be paid to a long-standing friendship, that he shall be in fault who
inflicts, not he who suffers, the injury.
To sum up: against all these faults and disadvantages there is one safeguard
and precaution; it is that men should not begin to love too quickly, and that they should
not love the unworthy. 79. Now those are worthy of friendship who possess in themselves
some reason why they should be loved. A rare class! And in truth all things that are
excellent are rare; nor is there anything more difficult than to find that which is
altogether perfect of its kind. But most men do not recognize anything good in human
affairs, except what is profitable; and with friends, just as they do with cattle, they
love those most of all from whom they hope that they will derive the largest profit.
80. Thus they are destitute of that very lovely and exquisitely natural
friendship, which is an object of desire in itself and for itself, nor can they learn from
themselves how valuable and powerful such a friendship is. For each man loves himself, not
that he may get from himself some reward for his own affection, but because each one is of
himself dear to himself. And unless this same feeling be transferred to friendship, a true
friend will never be found; for a true friend is one who is, as it were, a second self.
81. And if it is a manifest truth in beasts, whether they fly or swim or live
in the fields, whether they are tame or wild, that in the first place they love
themselves--for self-love is a feeling equally born with every creature--next that they
seek out and long for some creature of the same race to which they may attach themselves,
and do this with longing and with a certain likeness to human love, how much more in
accordance with nature does this process take place with man, who both loves himself, and
seeks another whose spirit he may so blend with his own as almost to make one out of two! |
XXII. 82. But most men
wrongly, not to say shamelessly, wish to have as a friend such an one as they themselves
cannot be, and expect from their friends what they do not bestow upon them; whereas it is
fair that a man should first of all be good himself, and then seek another like himself.
In the case of such persons, that steadfastness of friendship about which we have now been
for some time discoursing can be strengthened, since men who are united by kindly feeling
will in the first place be masters of those passions to which others are slaves, and
secondly will take delight in fairness and justice, and the one will do anything for the
other, nor will the one ever demand from the other anything but what is honourable and
right, and not only will they cherish and love each other, but will also respect each
other. For he who takes away respect from friendship takes away its greatest ornament.
83. Therefore those who think that there lies open in friendship a free
indulgence to all passion and sin make a ruinous mistake; friendship has been given by
Nature as a handmaid of the virtues, not as a companion of the vices, in order that, since
virtue could not unaided arrive at the highest perfection, it might arrive thither when
united and associated with another. And if this association either exists, or has existed,
or shall exist between any persons, their companionship must be considered the best and
the happiest for the highest good of our nature. 84. This is, I say, an association which
contains everything that men consider to be objects of desire--honour and glory, peace of
mind and enjoyment--so that when these are present life is happy, and without them must be
miserable. And since this is the best and the greatest blessing, we must, if we wish to
attain it, pay attention to virtue, without which we are able to attain neither friendship
nor anything that is worthy of desire. But when virtue has been neglected, those who think
that they have friends, then, and then only, feel their mistake, when some severe
misfortune constrains them to make trial of them.
85. Wherefore--for I must say it again and again--you must love when you have
exercised your judgment, not use your judgment after you have loved. We are punished for
our lack of prudence in many matters, but especially in loving and cherishing friends; for
we put the cart before the horse in our plans, and lock the stable door when the steed is
gone, which we are forbidden to do by the old proverb. For being entangled mutually either
by daily intercourse or even by kind offices, suddenly in mid-career we break up a
friendship as soon as some cause for offence has arisen. |
XXIII. 86. Wherefore
such great carelessness in a matter of the highest consequence is all the more to be
blamed. For friendship is the one thing in human affairs concerning the advantage of which
all with one voice agree. Virtue itself is despised by many, and said to be a fraud and a
pretence. Many despise riches, who are contented with little, and delighted by simple fare
and living; while as to public office, with the desire for which some men are all aflame,
how many despise it so utterly, that they think there is nothing emptier or more trifling!
And so with regard to all other things, while some men think them admirable, very many
more consider them as of no account. But concerning friendship, all to a man have the same
feeling--both these who have devoted themselves to public life, and those who take
pleasure in the investigation of nature and in learning, and those who attend to their own
business without caring for public duties, and lastly those who have given themselves up
wholly to sensuality--they all feel that life is nothing without friendship, if they wish,
that is, to live at all as a free man ought.
87. For friendship creeps, I know not how, through the lives of all, nor does
it suffer any method of passing life to be free from itself. Nay more, if anyone is so
harsh and fierce of nature, that he flees and loathes the society of men, being a man such
as we have heard a certain Timon of Athens was, nevertheless he would not be able to
refrain from searching after someone to whom he might pour out the venom of his
bitterness. This question would best be determined, if it could so happen that some god
should remove us from this throng of men, and place us somewhere in a desert, and there,
supplying us with abundance and plenty of all things that nature craves for, should take
away from us altogether the opportunity of beholding a human being. Who is made of such
stern material that he could endure that life, and from whom would not solitude take away
the enjoyment of all pleasures?
88. So the following remark is true which I have heard our old men say was
wont to be made by Archytas of Tarentum, I believe, they having heard it from other old
men: "If anyone had ascended to heaven, and beheld the nature of the universe and the
magnificence of the stars, all his wonder thereat would be without pleasure to him;
whereas it would have been most agreeable if he had had someone to whom he might describe
it." Thus Nature loves nothing that is solitary, and ever leans towards some prop, so
to speak; and this is the sweeter, the dearer that the friend is. |
XXIV. But although Nature
declares by so many signs what she wishes, requires, and longs for, we nevertheless
somehow or other shut our ears against her, and do not listen to her admonitions. For
intercourse in friendship is varied and manifold, and many grounds for suspiction and
offence are given, which it is the duty of a wise man at one time to avoid, at another to
make light of, at another to bear quietly. But there is one cause of offence which must be
encountered, in order that advantage and loyalty may be retained in friendship: our
friends must be often admonished and reproved, and these reproofs must be received in a
friendly spirit when they are offered in kindness.
89. But somehow or other, what my friend Terence says in his Andria is
true--"Deference begets friends, while truth begets hatred." Truth is
troublesome, inasmuch as from it springs hatred, which is the bane of friendship; but
flattery is much more troublesome, because by granting indulgence to faults, it allows a
friend to be borne headlong to his ruin: but the greatest fault rests with the man who
despises truth, and is driven on by flattery to destruction. In all this matter,
therefore, carefulness and diligence must be employed, first that warning may be free from
bitterness, and next that reproof may be free from insult. In paying deference, however
(for I gladly adopt the word used by Terence), let courtesy be present, but let flattery,
the handmaid of the vices, be removed far away; for flattery is unworthy not only of a
friend, but even of a free man; for we live in one way with a tyrant, in another with a
friend.
90. But as for the man whose ears are closed against the truth, so that he
cannot bring himself to hear the truth from a friend, his welfare must be despaired of.
For that saying of Cato, like many of his, is a shrewd one--"Bitter enemies deserve
better from some men than those friends who seem agreeable; for the former often speak the
truth, the latter never." It is also absurd, that those who are admonished do not
feel that annoyance which they ought to feel, but feel that from which they ought to be
free; for they are not distressed because they have done wrong, but are offended because
they are reproved; whereas, on the other hand, they ought to grieve at the fault and
rejoice at its correction. |
XXV. 91. Since therefore
it is essential to true friendship that a man should both give and take advice, and that
he who gives advice should speak frankly yet not harshly, and that the other should
receive what is said with forebearance and not with repugnance, so we must conclude, that
there is no plague in friendship greater than flattery, fawning, and adulation. For no
matter how many names it may have, we must set a brand on this defect as the fault of
fickle and deceitful men, who speak everything with a view to please, and nothing with a
view to truth. 92. But while hypocrisy in all things is blameworthy--for it does away with
our power of judging truth, and adulterates it--so it is especially opposed to friendship;
for it destroys truth, without which the name of friendship has no meaning. For while the
strength of friendship lies in the fact that one soul is, as it were, made by it out of
many, how can this be effected, if not even in each individual is there a soul one and
always the same, but a soul fickle, changeable, manifold?
93. For what can be so pliable, so unreasonable, as the soul of him who
shifts about, not only in accordance with the feelings and wishes, but even the look and
nod of another? "If one says no, I say no too; if he says yes, I say yes; in, I have
charged myself to agree with him in all things," as the same Terence says, but in the
character of Gnatho, a kind of friend which it is a mark of worthlessness to attach to
oneself at all. 94. But since there are many like Gnatho, who are higher in position,
fortune, and reputation, the flattery of these is a curse when to their worthlessness is
added influence. 95. But a fawning friend can be distinguished from a true one, and
discerned just as easily, if only we are careful, as everything that is dyed and
counterfeit can be distinguished from the genuine and the true. A public meeting, which
consists of the most inexperienced men, is nevertheless capable of judging what difference
there is between the popular demagogue, that is, the flatterer and worthless citizen, and
the consistent, the serious, and dignified one.
96. What smooth flattery did Gaius Papirius lately pour into the ears of a
public meeting, when he proposed the law concerning the re-election of the tribunes of the
people! I spoke against it; but I will say nothing of myself, it is about Scipio that I
will speak more willingly. How great, ye immortal gods, was that dignity of his, how great
the majesty that appeared in his speech! so that you would say without hesitation that he
was the leader, not the boon-companion of the Roman people. But you were present, and the
speech is in everybody's hands. Therefore the bill, though drawn up to please the people,
was rejected by the votes of the people. And to return to myself: you remember when
Quintus Maximus, Scipio's brother, and Lucius Mancinus were consuls, how popular the bill
of Gaius Licinius Crassus concerning the priesthoods appeared to be. For he wanted to
transfer to the patronage of the people the right of the colleges to fill up their
vacancies; and he was the first who began to address the people with his face turned
towards the forum. Nevertheless reverence for the immortal gods, with myself as advocate,
easily defeated this specious oration; and this happened when I was only praetor, five
years before I was made consul; so that the cause owed its sucessful defence more to its
own merits than becuase I possessed any especial authority. |
XXVI. 97. But if on the
stage,--the public assembly, I mean,--where there is the widest scope for falsehood and
misrepresentation, the truth nevertheless prevails, if only it has been set forth openly
and brought into full light, what ought to take place in friendship, which depends
entirely upon truth? In friendship, unless, as men say, you see your friend's heart and
bare your own, you can have no faithfulness or certainty, not even as to whether you love
and are loved, since you know not how much truth there is in the love. And yet that
flattery, however baneful it may be, can nevertheless injure no one, except him who
accepts it and is pleased with it. And so it happens that the man who flatters himself and
is most highly pleased with himself, listens with the greatest eagerness to flatterers.
98. No doubt virtue is a lover of herself, for she knows herself best, and
understands how loveable she is. But it is not about virtue that I am now speaking, but
about the belief a man has in his own virtue. For the people who wish to be actually
endowed with virtue are not so numerous as those who wish to appear so. To such people
flattery is delightful, and when language is addressed to them which is framed to suit
their own wishes, they regard these empty words as a testimony to their own merits. It is
therefore no friendship when one party will not listen to the truth, and the other is
prepared to lie. Nor would the flattery of parasites in comedies seem to us humorous
unless there were braggart soldiers as well. "Does Thais then return me many
thanks?" It would have been enough to reply--"many thanks"; but the
parasite says, "a million." The flatterer always exaggerates that which the man
for whose gratification he is speaking wishes to be great.
99. Wherefore, although it is with those who court and encourage it, that
this soothing falsehood has weight, still even the more serious and firm among men must be
warned to take care that they are not ensnared by clever flattery. For unless he is
utterly devoid of sense, no one fails to perceive the barefaced flatterer; but we must
take great care that the skilful and secret flatterer does not ingratiate himself with us;
for he is not easily recognized, inasmuch as he is one who often flatters even by
opposing, and, while pretending to take the other side of the question, acts the
flatterer, and in the end gives in and permits himself to be beaten, so that he who has
been the dupe appears to have been the keener-sighted of the two. But what is more
disgraceful than to be duped? We must all the more carefully take care that this may not
happen. "How you have today twisted me round your finger and splendidly duped me,
beyond all the silly old men of comedy?"
100. For even in plays this character of a blind and credulous old man is the
most foolish. But, somehow or other, our discourse has descended from the friendships of
perfect men, that is, of wise men (I speak of wisdom such as befalls the average man), to
common friendships. Wherefore let us return to the principle I first laid down, and let us
at length bring our remarks to a close. |
XXVII. It is virtue,
Gaius Fannius and Quintus Mucius, virtue, I say, that both produces and preserves
friendships. For upon virtue depends harmony in all things, and stability, and firmness;
and when it has lifted itself up and shown forth its light, and has seen and recognized
the same thing in another, it draws near to it, and in return receives that which is in
the other; and hence there is kindled either love or friendship. Both these qualities have
been named from "loving"; but "to love" is nothing else than to have
an affection for him whom you love, not from any need of him, or because you seek for any
advantage from him; yet advantage blossoms forth from friendship, even though you were
never to look for it.
101. It was with this kindly feeling that we as young men loved those old
men, Lucius Paulus, Marcus Cato, Gaius Galus, Publius Nasica, Tiberius Gracchus, the
father-in-law of my friend Scipio; and this manifests itself even more between those of
the same age, as between myself and Scipio, Lucius Furius, Publius Rupilius, Spurius
Mummius. And in return we old men feel pleasure in the affection of young men, as with
yourself and Quintus Tubero; I for my part also take delight in my friendship with those
very young men Publius Rutilius and Aulus Verginius. And since the manner of our life and
of our constitution has been so ordained that one generation is ever springing from
another, it is very greatly to be desired that you should be able to arrive at the goal,
as the proverb has it, along with those of your own age, with whom you have been let
loose, so to speak, from the starting-point.
102. But since human affairs are frail and perishable, some persons must
always be sought, whom we may love and by whom we may loved; for when affection and kindly
feeling has been removed, all pleasure has been removed from life. To me indeed Scipio,
although he was snatched away suddenly, nevertheless still lives and ever will live; for
it was the virtue of the man which I loved, and that has not been extinguished; nor does
it dwell before my eyes alone, who always had it at hand, but even to posterity it will be
a bright and shining light. No one will ever either in thought or in hope undertake
greater tasks than ordinary without thinking that he must keep before him a remembrance
and impression of that man.
103. For my part, out of all the things which either fortune or nature has
assigned to me, I have nothing which I can compare with the friendship of Scipio. In it I
found agreement in politics, and advice about my private affairs, and repose full of
delight. Never, so far as I could perceive, even in the smallest matter, did I displease
him; never did I myself hear from him aught that I was unwilling to hear. We had one
house, the same style of living, and that in common, and not only our campaigns, but even
our travels and our sojourns in the country were in common.
104. For why should I speak about our devotion in constantly acquiring and
learning something? In this pursuit, far removed from the gaze of the people, we spent all
our leisure time. And if the recollection and memory of these things had died along with
him, I should not now be able to bear in any way my grief for the closest of friends and
most loving of men. But they are not destroyed; rather they are strengthened and increased
through my reflexion and remembrance, and if I should be entirely deprived of them,
nevertheless the mere lapse of time brings to me great consolation. For at my time of life
I cannot remain longer in this state of regret. And all things that are of short duration
ought to be bearable, even if they are great.
This is what I have had to say about friendship. But I exhort you to put
virtue, without which friendship cannot exist, in such a position, that you may think that
with the exception of virtue nothing is more excellent than friendship. |
