not seek for:an external cause for the voluntary motions of the-mind. For such is thenature of voluntary motion, that it must needs be in our own power, and depend on. ourselves, otherwise it is not voluntary. And’ yet we cannot say that the motion of our free-will is an effect without a cause, for its proper nature is the cause of this effect. As, then, this: is the case, why may not every proposition be either true or false, without our conceding that fate is the cause of all that happens? Because, says he, things certain to happen cannot _ be those which have no causes why they are certain to happen; they must, therefore, have causes in order that those things which are true, when they happen in that wal may so happen through fate, | XII. The dispute then is at an end, since you must needs grant either that all things happen by fate, or that some effects may: exist without external causes. - say eae ON FATE, 275 “Scipio shall take Numantia,” cannot be true unless wé admit that in order to produce this effect there was a specific ‘cause bound to an eternal seriessof causes. Could this fact have been rendered false by being predicted 600 years before? But if this. proposition, “Scipio shall take’ Numantia,” was not true, then, even) now that it is taken, it is not true. Can anything, then, possibly happen which was not certain to happen? For as we call past events: true, the existence of which has been certified by experience, so may we call future events true which will assuredly be realized in the time to come. And though every proposition is either true or false, it need not follow at once that there exist eternal and immutable causes which prevent anything from happen- ing in any other manner than that in which it does happen. There are fortuitous causes which ensure the certainty of those predictions which are uttered in this manner—“ Cato shall enter the senate;” these causes not necessarily sub- sisting in the nature of things, and in the world. And yet the future is just as immutable, inasmuch as it is true, as what has already taken place; nor does this fact give us any reason to fear either fate or necessity. In fact we must confess in all such propositions, that if this statement, “Hortensius will come to Tusculum,” is not true, then it follows that it is false. But these men will not admit either of these alternatives, but that denial is impossible to be maintained. Nor need we be deterred from this line of reasoning by the argument called the inactive one, or, by some philosophers, apyos Adyos, which, if we were to be led by it, would induce us to remain inactive all our lives. This argument may be thus stated, — “Tf it be the will of fate that you should free yourself from this disease, then whether you take medicine or not, you will free yourself equally.” Again, “If it is the will of fate that you should not escape from your malady, whether you take ~ medicine or not, you will not escape.” Fate, therefore, is the regulator of both alternatives, and any application to a phy- sician will be useless. | XIII. Very properly, therefore, is this argument. called inactive, for if we adopt it, we must remain in absolute idle- ness, and abstain from all action whatever. We may change the statement of this argument, and omit the word fate, but still it comes to the same regult.. “If from all eternity this _ Weeks | 276 ON FATE.
proposition is true, You will escape from this malady; then whether you consult a physician or not, you will escape from it.” Again; “If from all eternity this proposition is false, You will not recover from*this disease; then you will not escape from it whether you consult a physician or not.” This argument is rejected by Chrysippus. For, says he, we must distinguish between two kinds of propositions, the simple and the compound. For instance, this is a simple proposition, “Socrates shall die this day.” Here, whether he does anything, or does not do so, the day of his death is defi- nitively fixed. But if the fate spoken of is of this sort, “ Laius shall beget Gidipus,” then it cannot be said, whether Laius is with a woman or not, for it is a compound fact, and confatal, to use Chrysippus’s expression, because it is fated, both that Laius will be with his wife, and that he will beget Cidipus. In the same way, if it is asserted, Milo will contend in the Olympic games, it would be absurd to reply that he must so contend whether he meets any antagonist or not; for the assertion, he will contend, is a copulative one, because there is no contest without an adversary. All sophisms of this nature are demolished in the same way. “ Whether you consult a physician, or whether you do not, you will recover,’ is captious; for it is as much fated that you shall consult a physician as that you shall recover.
XIV. Carneades, however, absolutely rejects this method of reasoning, and thinks that these conclusions are adopted too hastily. He therefore pushed his argument in a plainer manner, and avoided these subtleties. And his conclusions were formed in this way: “ If everything happens by anterior causes, all these causes must be closely and compactly bound to each other by a natural connexion. Now if this is the case, necessity governs all things, we are no longer free agents, nothing is in our own power. But some things are in our own power: but if all things happen by fate, then all things happen by anterior causes: therefore all that happens does not happen by fate.” ‘This argument cannot be made more stringent. For if any one were to try to reply to it, and to argue thus: “If all which happens is true from all eternity, so that it must needs happen in a specific manner, then it follows inevitably that all things are closely and com- pactly bound together by a natural connexion:” he would ON FATE. 277 ON FATE. 277 be in effect saying nothing; for there is an essential differ- ence, whether a natural cause from -eternhity makes what is future true, or whether even without a natural eternity those things which are future can be recognised as true. And therefore Carneades declares that Apollo himself cannot predict, as certain to take place, any things except those whose causes are so contained in nature that they must even- tually take place. For what can the Deity himself have beheld to make him say that that Marcellus, who was thrice consul, would perish in the sea? This event was indeed true from all eternity, but it had no efficient cause. Neither could those past events, which leave no signs or vestiges, be known in his opinion even to Apollo himself. How then can he know events which are future? for it is only by an acquaintance with efficient causes that we can foreknow the particular events which result from them. Therefore (says he) Apollo could not predict in the case of Cidipus that he would certainly destroy his father, because there existed no antecedent cause for such an event in nature.
XV. Wherefore if the Stoics, who maintain that every- thing happens by fate, are obliged in consistence with their principle to admit the truth of oracles of this kind, and of other things which come under the head of divination; but those who assert that all things which must happen are cer- tain from all eternity, may, if they please, reject such conse- quences; then consider whether they do not, in fast, agree with the Stoics. Indeed, they are driven even to worse difficulties, for the theory of the others is free and unembar- rassed in comparison. But if it be admitted that nothing can happen without some anterior cause, what is gained by that if this cause is not said to be linked to an infinite series of causes? By a cause we mean that which produces the effect caused; as a wound is the cause of death, indiges- tion of disease, and fire of heat. Thus we do not understand by a cause a mere antecedent, but an effective antecedent. Nor was my visiting the Campus Martius the cause of my playing at ball; nor was Hecuba the cause of the ruin of Troy, by giving birth to Paris; nor Tyndarus the author of Agamemnon’s murder,.because he was Clytemnestra’s: father. For by such logic as this a traveller who wears a handsome dress may become the cause why the highway- / Zi2 ON FATE) man robs him of: it. And ‘here lies the sophism of Ennius, where he says:— | Oh, that the pine in Pelion’s leafy grove, _.: Had never fall’n beneathithe woodman’s axe! He should have gone a step further and said, “Oh, that no tree had ever grown on Mount Pelion!” Or further still, “Oh, that Mount Pelion had never existed!” And thus tracing backwards further and further he might have gone on for ever. Again, he says:— And that no ship from that too fatal tree Had e’er been built.. But why enumerate all those past’events? Because the con- sequence is as follows:— Then would my wandering mistress ne’er have set Her foot across her threshold. Sad Medea, _ Who now with agonized heart, frenzied with love...
Now surely none of the antecedent circumstances mentioned by Ennius was the efficient cause of Medea’s love. XVI. But there is a difference, say they, between ‘a’ cause without which an effect cannot happen, and a cause which necessarily produces an effect. Then there is no efficient cause of such events as they allude to, because none pro- duces them by its efficient energy; and a thing is not a cause when without it the effect could not have happened, but when by its specific action it necessarily produces the effect caused. Before the wound of the serpent who bit Phi- loctetes changed into an ulcer, what reason was there in the nature of things why the Greeks:should leave this hero in the isle of Lemnos? Afterwards this cause existed, and in much closer connexion with the event—and the event itself declared and manifested the cause. Reason, therefore, points out the cause of the event. But from all eternity this proposition was true, “ Philoctetes shall be left in an island,” nor could it be altered into a false one. For two contrary propositions (when I say contrary, I mean such that one affirms a thing, and the other denies it) which oppose each other can never stand together, for, in spite of Epicurus, one must be true and one - false.. Thus this proposition, “ Philoctetes shall be wounded,” was true before all ages; and the contrary, “He shall not be wounded,” was false; unless, indeed, we adopt the opinion of the Epicureans, who affirm that such propositions ‘are neither true nor false, or, when they are ashamed of that, oe On a Saale ON FATE: a utter that still more impudent assertion, that disjunctive pro- positions composed of two contradictions are true, though neither of their component parts is true. Oh, marvellous licentiousness and miserable ignorance of logic! If anything in speech is so indifferent as to appear. neither true nor false, that is certainly not true. That which is not true must of necessity be false, and that which is not false must be true. ‘We must, therefore, maintain that doctrine which Chrysip- pus has proved, namely, that every proposition is either true or false. Reason itself will oblige us to grant, that there are things which ‘are true from all eternity, that these things are not bound to eternal causes of necessity, and that they are free from the compulsion of fate. 7 XVII. It appears, indeed, to me, since the ancient philoso- hers are divided into two parties on the doctrine of fate; some of whom maintain that fate works all in all, and that it exerts a necessary and compulsive force over all agents; of which opinion were Democritus, Heraclitus, Empedocles and Aristotle; while others asserted that fate had no influence whatsoever over the voluntary acts of the soul; between these two opinions Chrysippus, as an honorary arbiter, holds a ‘middle course; but he seems to approach nearest to those who believe the acts of the soul to be free from necessity. How- ever, the expressions he employs throw him back into the very dilemma he seeks to avoid, so that in spite of. himself he affirms the necessity of fate. Let us, therefore, return to the sentiments I formerly described. The acts of the soul, according to the opinion of those ancient philosophers who attributed all to fate, are the result of compulsion and neces- ‘sity. Those who held the opposite system, believed the ‘senti- ments were free from the dominion of fate, and maintained ‘that if we left the sentiments under the dominion of fate it would be impossible to preserve their freedom from the tyranny of necessity. They argue in this manner:—TIf all happens by fate, then every effect is determined by an anterior cause. If appetite be allowed, those things also must be ‘allowed which follow appetite: and on the same principle ‘thus it is with our sentiments. But if the cause of appetite does not depend on us, then, even the appetite itself is no ‘longer in our own power. If the affair stands thus, the effects ‘produced by appetite are no longer chargeable on ourselves.
280 ON FATE.
Thus we lose all command both of our sentiments and actions. ‘From which it follows that. all praise and blame must be equally unjust, and all honours and punishments. And as this consequence is absurd, they conclude with much probability that all the events which happen are not the effects of fate..
XVIII. But Chrysippus, rejecting necessity, yet believing that nothing can happen without antecedent causes, distin- guishes causes into two kinds, in.order to preserve the doctrine of fate, and yet avoid that of necessity. There are, says he, certain absolute principal causes, and certain auxiliary proximate causes. When, therefore, we assert that all things happen by anterior causes, we do not so much allude to these absolute or principal causes, as to the auxiliary and proximate ones, He therefore meets the consequence which I have just mentioned in this manner. If, says he, every- thing happens by fate, 1 grant that all happens by pre-exist- ent causes; but these pre-existent causes are not principal, but auxiliary. And if these latter ones are not in our power, we can no longer maintain that appetite itself is in our power. But this must needs be the case, if we say, that all happens by principal causes, since these causes being beyond our con- trol, appetite is likewise beyond our control.
Those, therefore, who thus introduce fate, and join necessity with it, rush wildly into this absurd consequence, namely, the destruction of free-will. But those who admit antecedent causes without supposing them principal, have no such error to fear. In fact, nothing is more natural, according to these philosophers, than the manner in which the sentiments are cannot arise without some corresponding action of the sense, yet they say that this action, having a proximate cause, not a principal one, takes place as Chrysippus conjectures; not that this sentiment can arise without some extrinsic cause, (for sentiment and sensation are connected,) but the causal force is perpetuated, as in the case of a revolving wheel or top, which cannot begin to move till the final impulse be given to them. But after they have received it, they con- tinue their gyrations according to their form. | XIX. As then, says he, a man who pushes a cylinder gives it a principle of motion, but not immediately that of ON FATE. ~ 281 revolution; so an object strikes our sense and conveys its image to our soul, yet leaves us free to form our specific sentiment concerning it; and, as has been said in the case of the cylinder which is set in motion from without, it will con- tinue for the future to move according to its own proper force and nature. But if any effect were produced without an anterior cause, it would be true that all things happen by fate. If, however, it is probable that everything which hap- pens has evidently an anterior cause, what reason can be given why we should not admit that all things happen by fate, provided it is understood what the distinction and dis- similarity of causes is? After this explanation of Chrysippus, if those who deny that our sentiments are the effects of fate were to concede that they are not produced without an anterior impression made on our senses, that would be one thing. But if they grant that an anterior impression is made on the sense, and yet that the sentiments are not the effects of fate, since the proximate cause does not excite them specifically, both parties will agree to such a statement. For Chrysippus, in granting that the proximate cause of sentiment is in the impression made on the sense, does not imply that this was the necessary cause of its specific character. So that though all happens by fate, he still denies that all happens by necessary and compulsory causes. And they who differ from him, granting that no sentiment arises without a correspond- ing motion of sense, declare that if all happens by fate in such a manner that nothing takes place without a pre-existent cause, we must needs admit that all things take place by fate, Thus we may understand how both these contending dispu- tants, when they have fairly explained their systems, arrive at the same essential result, and only differ in terms, And since the main points are admitted by both sides, we may affirm with confidence that when certain causes precede certain effects we cannot hinder these effects from happening. In other cases, on the contrary, though certain causes pre-exist, we have the moulding of their effects in our own power, Such is the distinction recognised by both sides; but some imagine that those things whose causes so precede as to deprive us of the power of moulding the effect, are sub- mitted to the empire of fate, but that those which depend on Ourselves are free from it, sss a ee es 982 ON FATE.
XX. It is according to these principles that we should examine the question concerning fate, and not rush with Epicurus to a fortuitous concourse of atoms to help us out of our difficulty. Every atom has a motion of its own, says he. In the first place, why is it so? It possesses a peculiar energy; that force, for example, of Democritus, which this philosopher terms an impulse, and which Epicurus calls gravity or weight. But you have not yet discovered that primitive power in‘nature from which your atoms derive their motion. Do they cast lots with one another which shall move this way and which that way? If they can thus move through small _ Spaces, they may move through great ones, and the spaces of their movements may be multiplied to infinity. ‘To make such assertions as these, is rather to beg the question than to discuss it. You have not yet revealed to us any extrinsic cause which impresses each atom with that impulse which gives it its proper direction. In the empty space which your atom occupies, I see nothing to prevent it from precipitating itself for ever in a perpendicular line; and in the atom itself I discover no quality which can counteract its specific gravity, or rescue it from falling. However, though Epicurus refuses to assign any cause for his atomic motion, he thinks he has Started a very noble theory, when he has thrown out that sophism, which all men of sense despise and reject. Nor do I think it possible for any one to give greater support to the arguments of fate and necessity and universal compulsion, or more completely to deprive the soul of all freedom of volition, than Ejpicurus has done, when he confesses that he. could never otherwise have resisted fate if he had not taken refuge in these imaginary declinations. For even though there were such things as atoms, which he can never prove to me, those declinations could never be explained. For if these atoms are moved and agitated by their specific gravity according to the necessity of nature, since it is the law of all heavy bodies to move and proceed till they meet some opposing obstacle, this also follows imevitably, that these atoms, some, if not all of them...
[The rest of this treatise is lost. |: Bi 5 ARP a) 1 a ht ere: GET ON THE COMMONWEALTH.
PREFACE BY THE EDITOR.
Tis work was one of Cicero’s earlier treatises; though one of those which was most admired by his contemporaries, and one of which he ‘himself was most proud. It was composed z.c. 54. It was originally _ in two books: then it was altered and enlarged intonine; and finally _ reduced to six. 4Vith the exception of the dream of Scipio, in the last __ book, the whole treatise was lost till the year 1822, when the librarian . of the Vatican discovered a portion of them among the palimpsests in that library. What he discovered is translated here; but it is in a most imperfect and mutilated state.
The form selected was that of a dialogue, in imitation of those of Plato; . and the several conferences were supposed to have taken place during the Latin holidays, B.c. 129, in the consulship of Caius Sempronius, Tuditanus and Marcus Aquilius. The speakers are Scipio Africanus . ‘the younger, in whose garden the scene is laid; Caius Leelius, Lucius Furius Philus, Marcus Manilius, Spurius Mummius, the brother of the taker of Corinth, ” a Stoic; Quintus Allius Tubero, a nephew of Africanus; Publius Rutilius Rufus;; Quintus Mucius Sesevola, the tutor of Cicero, and Caius Fannius, who was absent however on the second day of the conference.
In the first book, the first thirty-three pages are wanting, and there are chasms amounting to thirty-eight pages more. In this book Scipio - asserts the superiority of an active over a speculative career; and after - analysing and comparing the monarchical,:aristocratic,. and demo- _ cratic forms of government, gives a preference to the first; although _ his idea of ‘a perfect constitution would be, one. compounded of three kinds in due proportion.
There are a few chasms in the earlier part of the second book, and the _ latter part of it is wholly lost. Im it Scipio was led on to. give an _‘account of the rise and progress of the Roman. Constitution, from which he passed on to the examination of the great. moral obligations ‘ whichiare the foundations of.all political. union.
Of the remaining books, we have only ‘a few disjointed eogmpriie, with the exception, as has been ‘before. mentioned, of the dream of Scipio in the sixth.
284 ON THE COMMONWEALTH, INTRODUCTION TO THE FIRST BOOK, BY THE ORIGINAL TRANSLATOR, Crcrro introduces his subject, by showing that men were not born for ’ the mere abstract study of philosophy, but that the study of. philo- sophie truth should always be made as practical as possible, and applicable to the great interests of philanthropy and patriotism. Cicero endeavours to show the benefit of mingling the contemplative or philosophic, with the political and active life, according to that maxim of Plato,—‘ Happy is the nation whose philosophers are kings, and whose kings are philosophers.”
This kind of introduction was the more necessary, because many of the ancient philosophers, too warmly attached to transcendental metaphysics and sequestered speculations, had affirmed that true philosophers ought not to interest themselves in the management of public affairs. Thus, as M. Villemain observes, it was a maxim of the Epi- cureans, “Sapiens ne accedat ad rempublicam,’—Let no wise man meddle in politics. The Pythagoreans had enforced the same prin- ciple with more gravity. Aristotle examines the question on both sides, and concludes in favour of active life. Among Aristotle’s dis- ciples, a writer, singularly elegant and pure, had maintained the pre- eminence of the contemplative life over the political or active one, in a work which Cicero cites with admiration, and to which he seems to have applied for relief, whenever he felt harassed and discouraged in public business, But here, this great man was interested by the subject he discusses, and by the whole course of his experience and conduct, to refute the dogmas of that pusillanimous sophistry and selfish indulgence, by bringing forward the most glorious examples and achievements of patriotism. In this strain he had doubtless commenced his exordium, and in this strain we find him continuing it, at the point in which the palimpsest becomes legible. He then proceeds to introduce his illustrious Interlocutors, and leads them at first to discourse on the astronomical laws that regulate the revolu- tions of our planet. From this, by a very graceful and beautiful trans- ition, he passes on to the consideration of the best forms of political constitutions that had prevailed in different nations, and those modes of government which had produced the greatest. benefits in the Commonwealths of antiquity.
This first book is, in fact, a splendid epitome of the political science of the age of Cicero; and probably the most eloquent plea in favour of mixed monarchy to be found in all literature.
ON THE COMMONWEALTH, 985 BOOK I.
I. [Wirnovt the virtue of patriotism], neither Caius Dui- lius, nor Aulus Atilius,’ nor Lucius Metellus, could have delivered Rome by their courage from the terror of Carthage; nor could the two Scipios, when the fire of the second Punic War was kindled, have quenched it in their blood; nor, when it revived in greater force, could either Quintus Maximus? have enervated it, or Marcus Marcellus have crushed it; nor, when it was repulsed from the gates of our own city, would Scipio have confined it within the walls of our enemies.
But Cato, at first a new and unknown man, whom all we who aspire to the same honours consider as a pattern to lead us on to industry and virtue, was undoubtedly at liberty to enjoy his repose at Tusculum, a most salubrious and con- venient retreat, But he,—mad as some people think him,— though no necessity compelled him, preferred being tossed about amid the tempestuous waves of politics, even till extreme old age, to living with all imaginable luxury in that tranquillity and relaxation. J omit innumerable men who have separately devoted themselves to the protection of our Commonwealth; and those whose lives are within the me- mory of the present generation, I will not mention, lest any one should complain that I had invidiously forgotten himself. or some one of his family. This only I insist on—that so great is the necessity of this virtue which nature has im- planted in man, and so great is the desire to defend the common safety of our country, that its energy has continually overcome all the blandishments of pleasure and repose.
II. Nor is it sufficient to possess this virtue as if it were some kind of art, unless we put it in practice. An art, indeed, though not exercised, may still be retained in know- ledge; but virtue consists wholly in its proper use and action. Now, the noblest use of virtue is the government of the Commonwealth, and the carrying out in real action, not in words only, of all those identical theories which those philo- 286 ON THE COMMONWEALTH.
sophers discuss at every corner. For nothing is spoken by philosophers, so far as they speak correctly and honourably, which has not been discovered and confirmed by those per- sons who have been the founders of the laws of states. For whence comes piety, or from whom has religion been de- rived?~—whence: comes law, either that of nations, or that. which is called the civil law?—whence comes justice, faith, equity?—-whence modesty, continence, the horror of baseness, the desire ef praise and renown!—whence fortitude in.
labours and perils? Doubtless, from those who have instilled. some of -these moral principles into men by education, and confirmed others by custom, and sanctioned others by laws. Moreover, it is reported of Xenocrates, one of the sub- limest philosophers, that when some one asked him what his disciples learned, he replied, “To do that of their own accord’ which they might be compelled to do by law.” That citizen, therefore, who obliges all men to those virtuous actions, by _ the authority of laws and penalties, to which the philosophers can scarcely persuade a few by the force of their eloquence, is certainly to be preferred to the sagest of the doctors “who spend their lives in such discussions. For which of their exquisite orations is so admirable as to be entitled to be pre- ferred to a well-constituted government, public justice, and good customs? Certainly, just as [ think that magnificent and imperious cities (as Ennius says) are superior to castles and villages; so I imagine that those who regulate such cities by their counsel and authority are far preferable, with respect to real wisdom, to men who are unacquainted with any kind of political knowledge. And since we are strongly prompted to augment the prosperity of the human race,—and since we do endeavour by our counsels and exertions to render the life of man safer and wealthier,—and since we are incited to this blessing by the spur of nature -herself,—let us hold on that: course which has always been pursued by all the best men, and not listen for a moment to the signals of those who sound a retreat so loudly, that they sometimes call back even those who have made considerable progress.