matters were discussed in the Greek language, the very names of things appeared strange which have now become sanctioned by daily use, what do you think will be the case when we are discussing them in Latin? Still, said I, we must do so; for if Zeno might take the liberty when he had discovered anything not previously common, to fix on it a name that was likewise unprecedented, why may not Cato take the same? Nor will it be necessary for you to render what he has said word for word, as translators are in the habit of doing who have no command of language of their own, whenever there is a word in more ordinary use which has the same meaning.
I indeed myself am in the habit, if I cannot manage it any other way, of using many words to express what the Greeks have expressed in one; and yet I think that we ought to be allowed to use a Greek word on occasions when we cannot find a Latin one, and to employ such terms as _proegmena_ and _apoproegmena_, just as freely as we say _ephippia_ and _acratophori_, though it may be sufficient to translate these two particular words by _preferred_ and _rejected_. I am much obliged to you, said he, for your hint; and I will in preference use those Latin terms which you have just mentioned; and in other cases, too, you shall come to my assistance if you see me in difficulties. I will do so, said I, with great goodwill; but fortune favours the bold. So make the attempt, I beg of you; for what more divine occupation can we have?
V. Those philosophers, said he, whose system I approve of, consider that as soon as an animal is born, (for this is where we must begin,) he is instinctively induced and excited to preserve himself and his existing condition, and to feel attachment to those things which have a tendency to preserve that condition; and to feel an abhorrence of dissolution, and of those circumstances which appear to be pregnant with dissolution. And they prove that this is the case, because, before either pleasure or pain has affected it, even while it is very little, it seeks what is salutary, and shuns the contrary: and this would not be the case if they were not fond of their condition, and afraid of dissolution; and it would not be possible for them to seek any particular thing if they had not some sense of themselves, and if that did not influence them to love themselves and what belongs to them. From which it ought to be understood that it is from the animal itself that the principle of self-love in it is derived. But among these natural principles of self-love most of the Stoics do not admit that pleasure ought to be classed; and I entirely agree with them, to avoid the many discreditable things which must ensue if nature should appear to have placed pleasure among those things which are the first objects of desire. But it appears to be proof enough why we naturally love those things which are by nature placed in the first rank, that there is no one, who, when either alternative is equally in his power, would not prefer to have all the parts of his body in a suitable and entire condition, rather than impaired by use, or in any particular distorted or depraved.
But as for the knowledge of things—or if you do not so much approve of this word _cognitio_, or find it less intelligible, we will call it κατάληψις—that we think is naturally to be acquired for its own sake, because it contains something which has, as it were, embraced and seized upon truth. And this is perceptible even in infants; whom we see amused if they have succeeded in finding out anything themselves by reason, even though it may be of no service whatever to them. And moreover, we consider arts worth attending to on their own account, both because there is in them something worth acceptance, and also because they depend upon knowledge, and contain in themselves something which proceeds on system and method. But I think that we are more averse to assent on false grounds than to anything else which is contrary to nature. Now of the limbs, that is to say, of the parts of the body, some appear to have been given to us by nature because of the use which, they are of to us, as, for instance, the hands, legs, and feet, and also those internal organs of the body, of which I may leave it to the physicians to explain the exceeding usefulness; but others with no view to utility, but for ornament as it were, as the tail is given to the peacock, plumage of many colours to the dove, breasts and a beard to man. Perhaps you will say this is but a dry enumeration; for these things are, as it were, the first elements of nature, which cannot well have any richness of language employed upon them; nor indeed am I thinking of displaying any; but when one is speaking of more important matters, then the subject itself hurries on the language: and then one’s discourse is at the same time more impressive and more ornate. It is as you say, said I; but still everything which is said in a lucid manner about a good subject appears to me to be said well. And to wish to speak of subjects of that kind in a florid style is childish; but to be able to explain them with clearness and perspicuity, is a token of a learned and intelligent man.
VI. Let us then proceed, said he, since we have digressed from these first principles of nature, which everything which follows ought to be in harmony with. But this is the first division of the subject. A thing is said to be estimable: for so we may, I think, call that which is either itself in accordance with nature, or else which is the efficient cause of something of such a character that it is worthy of being selected because it has in it some weight worth appreciating, which he calls ἀχία; and, on the other hand, something not estimable, which is the contrary of the preceding. The first principles, therefore, being laid down, that those things which are according to nature are to be chosen for their own sakes, and those which are contrary to it are in like manner to be rejected; the first duty (for that is how I translate the word καθῆκον) is, for a man to preserve himself in his natural condition; next to that, to maintain those things which are in accordance with nature, and reject what is opposite to it; and when this principle of selection and rejection has been discovered, then follows selection in accordance with duty; and then that third kind, which is perpetual, and consistent to the end, and corresponding to nature, in which there first begins to be a proper understanding of what there is which can be truly called good. For the first attraction of man is to those things which are according to nature.
But as soon as he has received that intelligence, or perhaps I should say, notion, which they call ἔννοια, and has seen the order and, if I may so say, the harmony in which things are to be done, he then estimates it at a higher value than all the things which he loved at first; and by this knowledge, and by reasoning, he comes to such a conclusion that he decides that the chief good of man, which deserves to be praised and desired for its own sake, is placed in what the Stoics call ὁμολογία, and we agreement, if you approve of this translation of the term; as therefore it is in this that that good is placed to which all things [which are done honourably] are to be referred, and honour itself, which is reckoned among the goods, although it is only produced subsequently, still this alone deserves to be sought for on account of its intrinsic power and worth; but of those things which are the principal natural goods there is not one which is to be sought for its own sake.
But as those things which I have called duties proceed from the first principles of nature, they must necessarily be referred to them; so that it may be fairly said that all duties are referred to this end, of arriving at the principles of nature; not, however, that this is the highest of all goods, because there is no such thing as honourable action in the first attractions of nature; for that is what follows, and arises subsequently, as I have said before. But still it is according to nature, and encourages us to desire itself much more than all those things which have been previously mentioned. But, first of all, we must remove a mistake, that no one may think that it follows that there are two supreme goods. For as, if it were the purpose of any one to direct an arrow or a spear straight at any object, just as we have said that there is an especial point to be aimed at in goods,—the archer ought to do all in his power to aim straight at the target, and the other man ought also to do his endeavour to hit the mark, and gain the end which he has proposed to himself: let this then which we call the chief good in life be, as it were, his mark; and his endeavour to hit it must be furthered by careful selection, not by mere desire.
VII. But as all duties proceed from the first principles of nature, it follows inevitably that wisdom itself must proceed from the same source.
But as it often happens, that he who has been recommended to any one considers him to whom he has been recommended of more importance than him who recommended him; so it is not at all strange that in the first instance we are recommended to wisdom by the principles of nature, but that subsequently wisdom herself becomes dearer to us than the starting place from which we arrive at it. And as limbs have been given to us in such a way that it is plain they have been given for some purpose of life; so that appetite of the mind which in Greek is called ὁρμὴ, appears to have been given to us, not for any particular kind of life, but rather for some especial manner of living: and so too is system and perfect method.
For as an actor employs gestures, and a dancer motions, not practising any random movement, but a regular systematic action; so life must be passed according to a certain fixed kind, and not any promiscuous way, and that certain kind we call a suitable and harmonious one. Nor do we think wisdom similar to the art of navigation or medicine, but rather to that kind of action which I have spoken of, and to dancing; I mean, inasmuch as the ultimate point, that is to say, the production of the art, lies in the art itself, and is not sought for from foreign sources. And yet there are other points in which there is a difference between wisdom and those arts; because in those arts those things which are done properly do nevertheless not comprise all the parts of the arts of which they consist. But the things which we call right, or rightly done, if you will allow the expression, and which they call κατορθώματα, contain in them the whole completeness of virtue. For wisdom is the only thing which is contained wholly in itself; and this is not the case with the other arts.
And it is only out of ignorance that the object of the art of medicine or navigation is compared with the object of wisdom; for wisdom embraces greatness of mind and justice, and judges all the accidents which befal mankind beneath itself: and this too is not the case in the other arts.
But no one will be able to maintain those very virtues of which I have just made mention, unless he lays down a rule that there is nothing which is of any importance, nothing which differs from anything else, except what is honourable or disgraceful.
VIII. Let us see now how admirably these rules follow from those principles which I have already laid down. For as this is the ultimate (_extremum_) point, (for you have noticed, I dare say, that I translate what the Greek philosopher calls τέλος, sometimes by the word _extremum_, sometimes by _ultimum_, and sometimes by _summum_, and instead of _extremum_ or _ultimum_, I may also use the word _finis_,)—as, then, this is the ultimate point, to live in a manner suitable to and harmonising with nature; it follows of necessity that all wise men do always live happily, perfectly, and fortunately; that they are hindered by nothing, embarrassed by nothing; that they are in want of nothing. And that which holds together not more that school of which I am speaking than our lives and fortunes, that is to say, the principle of accounting what is honourable to be the sole good, may indeed easily be embellished and enlarged upon at great length, with great richness of illustration, with great variety of carefully chosen expressions, and with the most pompous sentiments in a rhetorical manner; but I prefer the brief, acute, conclusive arguments of the Stoics. Now their conclusions are arrived at in this manner: “Everything which is good is praiseworthy; but everything which is praiseworthy is honourable;—therefore, everything which is good is honourable.” Does not this appear properly deduced? Undoubtedly;—for the result which was obtained from the two premises which were assumed, you see was contained in them. But of the two premises from which the conclusion was inferred it is only the major one which can be contradicted—if you say that it is not the case, that everything which is good is praiseworthy: for it is granted that whatever is praiseworthy is honourable. But it is utterly absurd to say, that there is anything good which is not to be sought for; or, that there is anything which ought to be sought for which is not pleasing; or, that if it is pleasing it ought not likewise to be loved. Then it ought also to be approved of. Then it is praiseworthy. But what is praiseworthy is honourable. And so the result is, that whatever is good is also honourable. In the next place, I ask, who can boast of a life which is miserable; or avoid boasting of one which is happy?—therefore men boast only of a life which is happy. From which the consequence follows, that a happy life deserves to be boasted of; but this cannot properly be predicated of any life which is not an honourable one. From this it follows, that a happy life must be an honourable one.
And since the man to whom it happens to be deservedly praised has some eminent qualities tending to credit and glory, so that he may rightly be called happy on account of such important qualities; the same thing is properly predicated of the life of such a man. And so, if a happy life is discerned by its honourableness, then what is honourable ought to be considered the sole good. And, as this cannot possibly be denied, what man do we say can ever exist of a stable and firm and great mind,—whom, in fact, can we ever call brave,—unless the point is established, that pain is not an evil? For as it is impossible that the man who ranks death among evils should not fear it, so in every case it is impossible for a man to disregard what he judges to be an evil, and to despise it. And when this point has been laid down, and ratified by universal assent, this is assumed next, that the man who is of a brave and magnanimous spirit despises and utterly disregards every accident which can befal a man. And as this is the case, the consequence is, that there is nothing evil which is not disgraceful. And that man of lofty and excellent spirit,—that magnanimous and truly brave man, who considers all human accidents beneath his notice,—the man I mean whom we wish to make so, whom at all events we are looking for,—ought to confide in himself, and in his own life both past and to come, and to form a favourable judgment of himself, laying down as a principle, that no evil can happen to a wise man. From which again the same result follows, that the sole good is that which is honourable; and that to live happily is to live honourably, that is, virtuously.
IX. Not that I am ignorant that the opinions of philosophers have been various, of those I mean who have placed the chief good, that which I call the end, in the mind. And although some people have followed them very incorrectly, still I prefer their theory, not only to that of the three sects who have separated virtue from the chief good, while ranking either pleasure, or freedom from pain, or the original gifts of nature among goods, but also to the other three who have thought that virtue would be crippled without some reinforcement, and on that account have each added to it one of those other particulars which I have just enumerated. I, however, as I said, prefer to all these the men, whoever they may be, who have described the chief good as consisting in the mind and in virtue. But nevertheless, those also are extremely absurd who have said that to live with knowledge is the highest good, and who have asserted that there is no difference between things, and so, that a wise man will surely be a happy one, never at any moment of his life preferring one thing to another: as some of the Academics are said to have laid it down, that the highest good and the chief duty of a wise man is to resist appearances, and firmly to withhold his assent from them.
Now people often make very lengthy replies to each of these assertions; yet what is very clear ought not to be long. But what is more evident than, if there be no selection made, discarding those things which are contrary to nature, and selecting those which are according to nature, all that prudence which is so much sought after and extolled would be done away with? If, then, we discard those sentiments which I have mentioned, and all others which resemble them, it remains that the chief good must be to live, exercising a knowledge of those things which happen by nature, selecting what is according to nature, and rejecting any which are contrary to nature; that is to say, to live in a manner suitable and corresponding to nature.
But in other arts, when anything is said to have been done according to the rules of art, there is something to be considered which is subsequent and follows upon such compliance; which they call ἐπιγεννηματικόν. But when we say in any matter that a thing has been done wisely, that same thing is from the first said also to have been done most properly; for whatever proceeds from a wise man must at once be perfect in all its parts: for in him is placed that quality which we say is to be desired.
For as it is a sin to betray one’s country, to injure one’s parents, to plunder temples, which are all sins of commission; so it is likewise a sin to be afraid, to grieve, to be under the dominion of lust, even if no overt act follows these feelings. But, as these are sins, not in their later periods and consequences, but at once from the first moment; so those actions which proceed from virtue are to be considered right at the first moment that they are undertaken, and not only when they are accomplished.
X. But it may be as well to give an explanation and definition of the word good, which, has been so often employed in this discourse. But the definitions of those philosophers differ a good deal from one another, and yet have all reference to the same facts. I myself agree with Diogenes, who has defined good to be that which in its nature is perfect. But that which follows, that which is profitable (for so we may translate his ὼφέλημα), he considered to be a motion, or a state, arising out of the nature of the perfect. And as the notions of things arise in the mind, if anything has become known either by practice, or by combination, or by similitude, or by the comparison of reason; then by this fourth means, which I have placed last, the knowledge of good is arrived at. For when, by a comparison of the reason, the mind ascends from those things which are according to reason, then it arrives at a notion of good. And this good we are speaking of, we both feel to be and call good, not because of any addition made to it, nor from its growth, nor from comparing it with other things, but because of its own proper power. For as honey, although it is very sweet, is still perceived to be sweet by its own peculiar kind of taste, and not by comparison with other things; so this good, which we are now treating of, is indeed to be esteemed of great value; but that valuation depends on kind and not on magnitude. For as estimation, which is called ἀξί, is not reckoned among goods, nor, on the other hand, among evils, whatever you add to it will remain in its kind. There is, therefore, another kind of estimation proper to virtue, which is of weight from its character, and not because of its increasing. Nor, indeed, are the perturbations of the mind, which make the lives of the unwise bitter and miserable, and which the Greeks call πάθη, (I might translate the word itself by the Latin _morbi_, but it would not suit all the meanings of the Greek word; for who ever calls pity, or even anger, a disease—_morbus_)?
but the Greeks do call such a feeling πάθος. Let us then translate it perturbation, which is by its very name pointed out to be something vicious. Nor are these perturbations, I say, excited by any natural force; and they are altogether in kind four, but as to their divisions they are more numerous. There is melancholy, fear, lust, and that feeling which the Stoics call by the common name which they apply to both mind and body, ἡδονὴ, and which I prefer translating joy (_lætitia_), rather than a pleasurable elation of an exulting mind. But perturbations are not excited by any force of nature; and all those feelings are judgments and opinions proceeding from light-mindedness; and, therefore, the wise man will always be free from them.
XI. But that everything which is honourable is to be sought for its own sake, is an opinion common to us with many other schools of philosophers.
For, except the three sects which exclude virtue from the chief good, this opinion must be maintained by all philosophers, and above all by us, who do not rank anything whatever among goods except what is honourable. But the defence of this opinion is very easy and simple indeed; for who is there, or who ever was there, of such violent avarice, or of such unbridled desires as not infinitely to prefer that anything which he wishes to acquire, even at the expense of any conceivable wickedness, should come into his power without crime, (even though he had a prospect of perfect impunity,) than through crime? and what utility, or what personal advantage do we hope for, when we are anxious to know whether those bodies are moving whose movements are concealed from us, and owing to what causes they revolve through the heavens? And who is there that lives according to such clownish maxims, or who has so rigorously hardened himself against the study of nature, as to be averse to things worthy of being understood, and to be indifferent to and disregard such knowledge, merely because there is no exact usefulness or pleasure likely to result from it? or, who is there who—when he comes to know the exploits, and sayings, and wise counsels of our forefathers, of the Africani, or of that ancestor of mine whom you are always talking of, and of other brave men, and citizens of pre-eminent virtue—does not feel his mind affected with pleasure? and who that has been brought up in a respectable family, and educated as becomes a freeman, is not offended with baseness as such, though it may not be likely to injure him personally? Who can keep his equanimity while looking on a man who, he thinks, lives in an impure and wicked manner? Who does not hate sordid, fickle, unstable, worthless men?
But what shall we be able to say, (if we do not lay it down that baseness is to be avoided for its own sake), is the reason why men do not seek darkness and solitude, and then give the rein to every possible infamy, except that baseness of itself detects them by reason of its own intrinsic foulness? Innumerable arguments may be brought forward to support this opinion; but it is needless, for there is nothing which can be less a matter of doubt than that what is honourable ought to be sought for its own sake; and, in the same manner, what is disgraceful ought to be avoided.
But after that point is established, which we have previously mentioned, that what is honourable is the sole good; it must unavoidably be understood that that which is honourable, is to be valued more highly than those intermediate goods which we derive from it. But when we say that folly, and rashness, and injustice, and intemperance are to be avoided on account of those things which result from them, we do not speak in such a manner that our language is at all inconsistent with the position which has been laid down, that that alone is evil which is dishonourable.
Because those things are not referred to any inconvenience of the body, but to dishonourable actions, which arise out of vicious propensities (_vitia_). For what the Greeks call κακία I prefer translating by _vitium_ rather than by _malitia_.
XII. Certainly; Cato, said I, you are employing very admirable language, and such as expresses clearly what you mean; and, therefore, you seem to me to be teaching philosophy in Latin, and, as it were, to be presenting it with the freedom of the city. For up to this time she has seemed like a stranger at Rome, and has not put herself in the way of our conversation; and that, too, chiefly because of a certain highly polished thinness of things and words. For I am aware that there are some men who are able to philosophise in any language, but who still employ no divisions and no definitions; and who say themselves that they approve of those things alone to which nature silently assents. Therefore, they discuss, without any great degree of labour, matters which are not very obscure. And, on this account, I am now prepared to listen eagerly to you, and to commit to memory all the names which you give to those matters to which this discussion refers. For, perhaps, I myself may some day have reason to employ them too.
You, then, appear to me to be perfectly right, and to be acting in strict accordance with our usual way of speaking, when you lay it down that there are vices the exact opposites of virtues; for that which is blameable (_vituperabile_) for its own sake, I think ought, from that very fact, to be called a vice; and perhaps this verb, _vitupero_, is derived from _vitium_. But if you had translated κακία by _malitia_,(46) then the usage of the Latin language would have limited us to one particular vice; but, as it is, all vice is opposed to all virtue by one generic opposite name.
XIII. Then he proceeded:—After these things, therefore, are thus laid down, there follows a great contest, which has been handled by the Peripatetics somewhat too gently, (for their method of arguing is not sufficiently acute, owing to their ignorance of dialectics;) but your Carneades has pressed the matter with great vigour and effect, displaying in reference to it a most admirable skill in dialectics, and the most consummate eloquence; because he has never ceased to contend throughout the whole of this discussion, which turns upon what is good and what is bad, that the controversy between the Stoics and Peripatetics is not one of things, but only of names. But, to me, nothing appears so evident as that the opinions of these two schools differ from one another far more as to facts than to names; I mean to say, that there is much greater difference between the Stoics and Peripatetics in principle than in language. Forasmuch as the Peripatetics assert that everything which they themselves call good, has a reference to living happily; but our school does not think that a happy life necessarily embraces everything which is worthy of any esteem.
But can anything be more certain than that, according to the principles of those men who rank pain among the evils, a wise man cannot be happy when he is tormented on the rack? While the principles of those who do not consider pain among the evils, certainly compels us to allow that a happy life is preserved to a wise man among all torments. In truth, if those men endure pain with greater fortitude who suffer it in the cause of their country, than those who do so for any slighter object; then it is plain that it is opinion, and not nature, which makes the force of pain greater or less. Even that opinion of the Peripatetics is more than I can agree to, that, as there are three kinds of goods, as they say, each individual is the happier in proportion as he is richer in the goods of the body or external goods, so that we must be forced also to approve of this doctrine, that that man is happier who has a greater quantity of those things which are accounted of great value as affecting the body. For they think that a happy life is made complete by bodily advantages; but there is nothing which our philosophers can so little agree to. For, as our opinion is that life is not even made in the least more happy by an abundance of those goods which we call goods of nature, nor more desirable, nor deserving of being more highly valued, then certainly a multitude of bodily advantages can have still less effect on making life happy. In truth, if to be wise be a desirable thing, and to be well be so too, then both together must be more desirable than wisdom by itself; but it does not follow, if each quality deserves to be esteemed, that therefore, the two taken together deserve to be esteemed more highly than wisdom does by itself. For we who consider good health worthy of any esteem, and yet do not rank it among the goods, think, at the same time, that the esteem to which it is entitled is by no means such as that it ought to be preferred to virtue. But this is not the doctrine of the Peripatetics; and they ought to tell us, that that which is an honourable action and unaccompanied by pain, is more to be desired than the same action would be if it were attended with pain. We think not: whether we are right or wrong may be discussed hereafter; but can there possibly be a greater disagreement respecting facts and principles?
XIV. For as the light of a candle is obscured and put out by the light of the sun; and as a drop of brine is lost in the magnitude of the Ægæan sea; or an addition of a penny amid the riches of Crœsus; or as one step is of no account in a march from here to India; so, if that is the chief good which the Stoics affirm is so, then, all the goods which depend on the body must inevitably be obscured and overwhelmed by, and come to nothing when placed by the side of the splendour and importance of virtue. And since opportunity, (for that is how we may translate εὐκαιρία,) is not made greater by extending the time, (for whatever is said to be opportune has its own peculiar limit;) so a right action, (for that is how I translate κατόρθωσις, and a right deed I call κατόρθωμα,)—a right action, I say, and suitableness, and, in short, the good itself, which depends on the fact of its being in accordance with nature, has no possibility of receiving any addition or growth. For as that opportunity is not made greater by the extension of time, so neither are these things which I have mentioned. And, on that account, a happy life does not seem to the Stoics more desirable or more deserving of being sought after, if it is long than if it is short; and they prove this by a simile:—As the praise of a buskin is to fit the foot exactly, and as many buskins are not considered to fit better than few, and large ones are not thought better than small ones; so, in the case of those the whole good of which depends upon its suitableness and fitness; many are not preferred to few, nor what is durable to what is short-lived. Nor do they exhibit sufficient acuteness when they say, if good health is more to be esteemed when it lasts long than when it lasts only a short time, then the longest possible enjoyment of wisdom must clearly be of the greatest value. They do not understand that the estimate of good health is formed expressly with reference to its duration; of virtue with reference to its fitness of time; so that men who argue in this manner, seem as if they would speak of a good death, or a good labour, and call one which lasted long, better than a short one. They do not perceive that some things are reckoned of more value in proportion to their brevity; and some in proportion to their length. Therefore, it is quite consistent with what has been said, that according to the principles of those who think that that end of goods which we call the extreme or chief good, is susceptible of growth, they may also think that one man can be wiser than another; and, in like manner then, one man may sin more, or act more rightly than another. But such an assertion is not allowable to us, who do not think the end of goods susceptible of growth. For as men who have been submerged under the water, cannot breathe any more because they are at no great depth below the surface, (though they may on this account be able at times to emerge,) than if they were at the bottom, nor can the puppy who is nearly old enough to see, as yet see any more than one who is but this moment born; so the man who has made some progress towards the approach to virtue, is no less in a state of misery than he who has made no such advance at all.
XV. I am aware that all this seems very strange. But as unquestionably the previous propositions are true and uncontrovertible, and as these others are in harmony with, and are the direct consequences of them; we cannot question their truth also. But although some people deny that either virtues or vices are susceptible of growth, still they believe that each of them is in some degree diffused, and as it were extended. But Diogenes thinks that riches have not only such power, that they are, as it were, guides to pleasure and to good health, but that they even contain them: but that they have not the same power with regard to virtue, or to the other arts to which money may indeed be a guide, but which it cannot contain. Therefore, if pleasure or if good health be among the goods, riches also must be classed among the goods; but if wisdom be a good, it does not follow that we are also to call riches a good; nor can that which is classed among the goods be contained by anything which is not placed in the same classification. And on that account, because the knowledge and comprehension of those things by which arts are produced, excite a desire for them, as riches are not among the goods, therefore no art can be contained in riches.
But if we grant this to be true with respect to arts, still it is not to follow that the same rule holds good with respect to virtue; because virtue requires a great deal of meditation and practice, and this is not always the case with arts; and also because virtue embraces the stability, firmness, and consistency of the entire life; and we do not see that the same is the case with arts.