Cicero on Friendship
"Fire and water are not of more universal use than friendship" - such is the high value put upon this great human relationship by the most famous orator of Rome.
(Cicero born Jan. 3, 106 B. C.)
Read from Cicero O
N F
RIENDSHIP Vol. 9, pp. 16-26
ON FRIENDSHIP
MARCUS TULLIUS CICERO
...
6. Now friendship may be thus defined: a
complete accord on all subjects human and divine, joined with mutual good will
and affection. And with the exception of wisdom, I am inclined to
think nothing better than this has been given to man by the immortal gods.
There are people who give the palm to riches or to good health, or to power and
office, many even to sensual pleasures. This last is the ideal of brute beasts;
and of the others we may say that they are frail and uncertain, and depend less
on our own prudence than on the caprice of fortune. Then there are those who
find the “chief good” in virtue. Well, that is a noble doctrine. But the very
virtue they talk of is the parent and preserver of friendship, and without it
friendship cannot possibly exist.
Let us, I repeat, use the word virtue in the
ordinary acceptation and meaning of the term, and do not let us define it in
high-flown language. Let us account as good the persons usually considered so,
such as Paulus, Cato, Gallus, Scipio, and Philus. Such men as these are good
enough for everyday life; and we need not trouble ourselves about those ideal
characters which are nowhere to be met with.
Well, between men like these the advantages of
friendship are almost more than I can say. To begin with, how can life be worth
living, to use the words of Ennius, which lacks that repose which is to be
found in the mutual good will of a friend? What can be more delightful than to
have some one to whom you can say everything with the same absolute confidence
as to yourself? Is not prosperity robbed of half its value if you have no one
to share your joy? On the other hand, misfortunes would be hard to bear if
there were not some one to feel them even more acutely than yourself. In a
word, other objects of ambition serve for particular ends—riches for use, power
for securing homage, office for reputation, pleasure for enjoyment, health for
freedom from pain and the full use of the functions of the body. But friendship
embraces innumerable advantages. Turn which way you please, you will find it at
hand. It is everywhere; and yet never out of place, never unwelcome. Fire and
water themselves, to use a common expression, are not of more universal use
than friendship. I am not now speaking of the common or modified form of it,
though even that is a source of pleasure and profit, but of that true and
complete friendship which existed between the select few who are known to fame.
Such friendship enhances prosperity, and relieves adversity of its burden by
halving and sharing it.
7. And great and numerous as are the blessings
of friendship, this certainly is the sovereign one, that it gives us bright
hopes for the future and forbids weakness and despair. In the face of a true
friend a man sees as it were a second self. So that where his friend is he is;
if his friend be rich, he is not poor; though he be weak, his friend’s strength
is his; and in his friend’s life he enjoys a second life after his own is
finished. This last is perhaps the most difficult to conceive. But such is the
effect of the respect, the loving remembrance, and the regret of friends which
follow us to the grave. While they take the sting out of death, they add a
glory to the life of the survivors. Nay, if you eliminate from nature the tie
of affection, there will be an end of house and city, nor will so much as the
cultivation of the soil be left. If you don’t see the virtue of friendship and
harmony, you may learn it by observing the effects of quarrels and feuds. Was
any family ever so well established, any State so firmly settled, as to be
beyond the reach of utter destruction from animosities and factions? This may
teach you the immense advantage of friendship.
They say that a certain philosopher of
Agrigentum, in a Greek poem, pronounced with the authority of an oracle the
doctrine that whatever in nature and the universe was unchangeable was so in
virtue of the binding force of friendship; whatever was changeable was so by
the solvent power of discord. And indeed this is a truth which everybody
understands and practically attests by experience. For if any marked instance
of loyal friendship in confronting or sharing danger comes to light, every one
applauds it to the echo. What cheers there were, for instance, all over the
theatre at a passage in the new play of my friend and guest Pacuvius; where,
the king not knowing which of the two was Orestes, Pylades declared himself to
be Orestes, that he might die in his stead, while the real Orestes kept on
asserting that it was he. The audience rose en masse and clapped their hands.
And this was at an incident in fiction: what would they have done, must we
suppose, if it had been in real life? You can easily see what a natural feeling
it is, when men who would not have had the resolution to act thus themselves,
shewed how right they thought it in another.
I don’t think I have any more to say about
friendship. If there is any more, and I have no doubt there is much, you must,
if you care to do so, consult those who profess to discuss such matters.
Fannius. We would rather apply to
you. Yet I have often consulted such persons, and have heard what they had to
say with a certain satisfaction. But in your discourse one somehow feels that
there is a different strain.
Scævola. You would have said that
still more, Fannius, if you had been present the other day in Scipio’s
pleasure-grounds when we had the discussion about the State. How splendidly he
stood up for justice against Philus’ elaborate speech!
Fannius. Ah! it was naturally easy
for the justest of men to stand up for justice.
Scævola. Well, then, what about
friendship? Who could discourse on it more easily than the man whose chief
glory is a friendship maintained with the most absolute fidelity, constancy,
and integrity?
8. Lælius. Now you are really
using force. It makes no difference what kind of force you use: force it is.
For it is neither easy nor right to refuse a wish of my sons-in-law,
particularly when the wish is a creditable one in itself.
Well, then, it has very often occurred to me
when thinking about friendship, that the chief point to be considered was this:
is it weakness and want of means that make friendship desired? I mean, is its
object an interchange of good offices, so that each may give that in which he
is strong, and receive that in which he is weak? Or is it not rather true that,
although this is an advantage naturally belonging to friendship, yet its
original cause is quite other, prior in time, more noble in character, and
springing more directly from our nature itself? The Latin word for friendship—amicitia—is
derived from that for love—amor; and love is certainly the prime
mover in contracting mutual affection. For as to material advantages, it often
happens that those are obtained even by men who are courted by a mere show of
friendship and treated with respect from interested motives. But friendship by
its nature admits of no feigning, no pretence: as far as it goes it is both
genuine and spontaneous. Therefore I gather that friendship springs from a
natural impulse rather than a wish for help: from an inclination of the heart,
combined with a certain instinctive feeling of love, rather than from a
deliberate calculation of the material advantage it was likely to confer. The
strength of this feeling you may notice in certain animals. They show such love
to their offspring for a certain period, and are so beloved by them, that they
clearly have a share in this natural, instinctive affection. But of course it
is more evident in the case of man: first, in the natural affection between
children and their parents, an affection which only shocking wickedness can
sunder: and next, when the passion of love has attained to a like strength—on
our finding, that is, some one person with whose character and nature we are in
full sympathy, because we think that we perceive in him what I may call the
beacon-light of virtue. For nothing inspires love, nothing conciliates
affection, like virtue. Why, in a certain sense we may be said to feel
affection even for men we have never seen, owing to their honesty and virtue.
Who, for instance, fails to dwell on the memory of Gaius Fabricius and Manius
Curius with some affection and warmth of feeling, though he has never seen
them? Or who but loathes Tarquinius Superbus, Spurius Cassius, Spurius Mælius?
We have fought for empire in Italy with two great generals, Pyrrhus and
Hannibal. For the former, owing to his probity, we entertain no great feelings
of enmity: the latter, owing to his cruelty, our country has detested and
always will detest.
9. Now, if the attraction of probity is so great
that we can love it not only in those whom we have never seen, but, what is
more, actually in an enemy, we need not be surprised if men’s affections are
roused when they fancy that they have seen virtue and goodness in those with
whom a close intimacy is possible. I do not deny that affection is strengthened
by the actual receipt of benefits, as well as by the perception of a wish to
render service, combined with a closer intercourse. When these are added to the
original impulse of the heart, to which I have alluded, a quite surprising
warmth of feeling springs up. And if any one thinks that this comes from a
sense of weakness, that each may have some one to help him to his particular
need, all I can say is that, when he maintains it to be born of want and
poverty, he allows to friendship an origin very base, and a pedigree, if I may
be allowed the expression, far from noble. If this had been the case, a man’s
inclination to friendship would be exactly in proportion to his low opinion of
his own resources. Whereas the truth is quite the other way. For when a man’s
confidence in himself is greatest, when he is so fortified by virtue and wisdom
as to want nothing and to feel absolutely self-dependent, it is then that he is
most conspicuous for seeking out and keeping up friendships. Did Africanus, for
example, want anything of me? Not the least in the world! Neither did I of him.
In my case it was an admiration of his virtue, in his an opinion, maybe, which
he entertained of my character, that caused our affection. Closer intimacy
added to the warmth of our feelings. But though many great material advantages
did ensue, they were not the source from which our affection proceeded. For as
we are not beneficent and liberal with any view of extorting gratitude, and do
not regard an act of kindness as an investment, but follow a natural
inclination to liberality; so we look on friendship as worth trying for, not
because we are attracted to it by the expectation of ulterior gain, but in the
conviction that what it has to give us is from first to last included in the
feeling itself.
Far different is the view of those who, like
brute beasts, refer everything to sensual pleasure. And no wonder. Men who have
degraded all their powers of thought to an object so mean and contemptible can
of course raise their eyes to nothing lofty, to nothing grand and divine. Such
persons indeed let us leave out of the present question. And let us accept the
doctrine that the sensation of love and the warmth of inclination have their
origin in a spontaneous feeling which arises directly the presence of probity
is indicated. When once men have conceived the inclination, they of course try
to attach themselves to the object of it, and move themselves nearer and nearer
to him. Their aim is that they may be on the same footing and the same level in
regard to affection, and be more inclined to do a good service than to ask a
return, and that there should be this noble rivalry between them. Thus both
truths will be established. We shall get the most important material advantages
from friendship; and its origin from a natural impulse rather than from a sense
of need will be at once more dignified and more in accordance with fact. For if
it were true that its material advantages cemented friendship, it would be
equally true that any change in them would dissolve it. But nature being
incapable of change, it follows that genuine friendships are eternal.
So much for the origin of friendship. But
perhaps you would not care to hear any more.
Fannius. Nay, pray go on; let us
have the rest, Lælius. I take on myself to speak for my friend here as his
senior.
Scævola. Quite right! Therefore,
pray let us hear.
10. Lælius. Well, then, my good friends, listen to
some conversations about friendship which very frequently passed between Scipio
and myself. I must begin by telling you, however, that he used to say that the
most difficult thing in the world was for a friendship to remain unimpaired to
the end of life. So many things might intervene: conflicting interests;
differences of opinion in politics; frequent changes in character, owing
sometimes to misfortunes, sometimes to advancing years. He used to illustrate
these facts from the analogy of boyhood, since the warmest affections between
boys are often laid aside with the boyish toga; and even if they did manage to
keep them up to adolescence, they were sometimes broken by a rivalry in
courtship, or for some other advantage to which their mutual claims were not
compatible. Even if the friendship was prolonged beyond that time, yet it
frequently received a rude shock should the two happen to be competitors for
office. For while the most fatal blow to friendship in the majority of cases
was the lust of gold, in the case of the best men it was a rivalry for office
and reputation, by which it had often happened that the most violent enmity had
arisen between the closest friends.
Again, wide breaches and, for the most part,
justifiable ones were caused by an immoral request being made of friends, to
pander to a man’s unholy desires or to assist him in inflicting a wrong. A
refusal, though perfectly right, is attacked by those to whom they refuse
compliance as a violation of the laws of friendship. Now the people who have no
scruples as to the requests they make to their friends, thereby allow that they
are ready to have no scruples as to what they will do for their friends; and it is the
recriminations of such people which commonly not only quench friendships, but
give rise to lasting enmities. “In fact,” he used to say, “these fatalities
overhang friendship in such numbers that it requires not only wisdom but good
luck also to escape them all.”
11. With these premises, then, let us first, if
you please, examine the question—how far ought personal feeling to go in
friendship? For instance: suppose Coriolanus to have had friends, ought they to
have joined him in invading his country? Again, in the case of Vecellinus or
Spurius Mælius, ought their friends to have assisted them in their attempt to
establish a tyranny? Take two instances of either line of conduct. When
Tiberius Gracchus attempted his revolutionary measures he was deserted, as we
saw, by Quintus Tubero and the friends of his own standing. On the other hand,
a friend of your own family, Scævola, Gaius Blossius of Cumæ, took a different
course. I was acting as assessor to the consuls Lænas and Rupilius to try the
conspirators, and Blossius pleaded for my pardon on the ground that his regard
for Tiberius Gracchus had been so high that he looked upon his wishes as law.
“Even if he had wished you to set fire to the Capitol?” said I. “That is a
thing,” he replied, “that he never would have wished.” “Ah, but if he had
wished it?” said I. “I would have obeyed.” The wickedness of such a speech
needs no comment. And in point of fact he was as good and better than his word;
for he did not wait for orders in the audacious proceedings of Tiberius
Gracchus, but was the head and front of them, and was a leader rather than an
abettor of his madness. The result of his infatuation was that he fled to Asia,
terrified by the special commission appointed to try him, joined the enemies of
his country, and paid a penalty to the republic as heavy as it was deserved. I
conclude, then, that the plea of having acted in the interests of a friend is
not a valid excuse for a wrong action. For, seeing that a belief in a man’s
virtue is the original cause of friendship, friendship can hardly remain if
virtue be abandoned. But if we decide it to be right to grant our friends
whatever they wish, and to ask them for whatever we wish, perfect wisdom must
be assumed on both sides if no mischief is to happen. But we cannot assume this
perfect wisdom; for we are speaking only of such friends as are ordinarily to
be met with, whether we have actually seen them or have been told about
them—men, that is to say, of everyday life. I must quote some examples of such
persons, taking care to select such as approach nearest to our standard of
wisdom. We read, for instance, that Papus Aemilius was a close friend of Gaius
Luscinus. History tells us that they were twice consuls together, and
colleagues in the censorship. Again, it is on record that Manius Curius and
Tiberius Coruncanius were on the most intimate terms with them and with each
other. Now, we cannot even suspect that any one of these men ever asked of his
friend anything that militated against his honour or his oath or the interests
of the republic. In the case of such men as these there is no point in saying
that one of them would not have obtained such a request if he had made it; for
they were men of the most scrupulous piety, and the making of such a request
would involve a breach of religious obligation no less than the granting it.
However, it is quite true that Gaius Carbo and Gaius Cato did follow Tiberius
Gracchus; and though his brother Gaius Gracchus did not do so at the time, he
is now the most eager of them all.
12. We may then lay down this rule of
friendship—neither ask nor consent to do what is wrong. For the plea “for friendship’s sake”
is a discreditable one, and not to be admitted for a moment. This rule holds
good for all wrong-doing, but more especially in such as involves disloyalty to
the republic. For things have come to such a point with us, my dear Fannius and
Scævola, that we are bound to look somewhat far ahead to what is likely to
happen to the republic. The constitution, as known to our ancestors, has
already swerved somewhat from the regular course and the lines marked out for
it. Tiberius Gracchus made an attempt to obtain the power of a king, or, I
might rather say, enjoyed that power for a few months. Had the Roman people
ever heard or seen the like before? What the friends and connexions that
followed him, even after his death, have succeeded in doing in the case of
Publius Scipio I cannot describe without tears. As for Carbo, thanks to the
punishment recently inflicted on Tiberius Gracchus, we have by hook or by crook
managed to hold out against his attacks. But what to expect of the tribuneship
of Gaius Gracchus I do not like to forecast. One thing leads to another; and
once set going, the downward course proceeds with ever-increasing velocity.
There is the case of the ballot: what a blow was inflicted first by the lex
Gabinia, and two years afterwards by the lex Cassia! I seem already to see the
people estranged from the Senate, and the most important affairs at the mercy
of the multitude. For you may be sure that more people will learn how to set
such things in motion than how to stop them. What is the point of these
remarks? This: no one ever makes any attempt of this sort without friends to
help him. We must therefore impress upon good men that, should they become
inevitably involved in friendships with men of this kind, they ought not to
consider themselves under any obligation to stand by friends who are disloyal
to the republic. Bad men must have the fear of punishment before their eyes: a
punishment not less severe for those who follow than for those who lead others
to crime. Who was more famous and powerful in Greece than Themistocles? At the
head of the army in the Persian war he had freed Greece; he owed his exile to
personal envy: but he did not submit to the wrong done him by his ungrateful
country as he ought to have done. He acted as Coriolanus had acted among us
twenty years before. But no one was found to help them in their attacks upon
their fatherland. Both of them accordingly committed suicide.
We conclude, then, not only that no such
confederation of evilly disposed men must be allowed to shelter itself under
the plea of friendship, but that, on the contrary, it must be visited with the
severest punishment, lest the idea should prevail that fidelity to a friend
justifies even making war upon one’s country. And this is a case which I am
inclined to think, considering how things are beginning to go, will sooner or
later arise. And I care quite as much what the state of the constitution will
be after my death as what it is now.
13. Let this, then, be laid down as the first
law of friendship, that we
should ask from friends, and do for friends, only what is good. But do not let us wait to be asked
either: let there be ever an eager readiness, and an absence of hesitation. Let
us have the courage to give advice with candour. In friendship, let the
influence of friends who give good advice be paramount; and let this influence
be used to enforce advice not only in plain-spoken terms, but sometimes, if the
case demands it, with sharpness; and when so used, let it be obeyed.
I give you these rules because I believe that
some wonderful opinions are entertained by certain persons who have, I am told,
a reputation for wisdom in Greece. There is nothing in the world, by the way,
beyond the reach of their sophistry. Well, some of them teach that we should
avoid very close friendships, for fear that one man should have to endure the
anxieties of several. Each man, say they, has enough and to spare on his own
hands; it is too bad to be involved in the cares of other people. The wisest
course is to hold the reins of friendship as loose as possible; you can then
tighten or slacken them at your will. For the first condition of a happy life
is freedom from care, which no one’s mind can enjoy if it has to travail, so to
speak, for others besides itself. Another sect, I am told, gives vent to
opinions still less generous. I briefly touched on this subject just now. They
affirm that friendships should be sought solely for the sake of the assistance
they give, and not at all from motives of feeling and affection; and that
therefore just in proportion as a man’s power and means of support are lowest,
he is most eager to gain friendships: thence it comes that weak women seek the
support of friendship more than men, the poor more than the rich, the
unfortunate rather than those esteemed prosperous. What noble philosophy! You
might just as well take the sun out of the sky as friendship from life; for the
immortal gods have given us nothing better or more delightful.
But let us examine the two doctrines. What is
the value of this “freedom from care”? It is very tempting at first sight, but
in practice it has in many cases to be put on one side. For there is no
business and no course of action demanded from us by our honour which you can
consistently decline, or lay aside when begun, from a mere wish to escape from
anxiety. Nay, if we wish to avoid anxiety we must avoid virtue itself, which
necessarily involves some anxious thoughts in showing its loathing and
abhorrence for the qualities which are opposite to itself—as kindness for ill
nature, self-control for licentiousness, courage for cowardice. Thus you may
notice that it is the just who are most pained at injustice, the brave at
cowardly actions, the temperate at depravity. It is then characteristic of a
rightly ordered mind to be pleased at what is good and grieved at the reverse.
Seeing then that the wise are not exempt from the heart-ache (which must be the
case unless we suppose all human nature rooted out of their hearts), why should
we banish friendship from our lives, for fear of being involved by it in some
amount of distress? If you take away emotion, what difference remains I don’t say
between a man and a beast, but between a man and a stone or a log of wood, or
anything else of that kind?
Neither should we give any weight to the
doctrine that virtue is something rigid and unyielding as iron. In point of
fact it is in regard to friendship, as in so many other things, so supple and
sensitive that it expands, so to speak, at a friend’s good fortune, contracts
at his misfortunes. We conclude then that mental pain which we must often
encounter on a friend’s account is not of sufficient consequence to banish
friendship from our life, any more than it is true that the cardinal virtues
are to be dispensed with because they involve certain anxieties and distresses.
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