Ch. 5
Concerning the quarrelsome and ferocious.
A wise and good person neither quarrels with
any one himself, nor, as far as possible, suffers
another to do so. The life of Socrates affords us an
example of this too, as well as of other things; since
he not only everywhere avoided quarrelling himself,
but did not even suffer others to quarrel. See in
Xenophon's Banquet how many quarrels he ended;
how, again, he bore with Thrasymachus, with Polus,
with Callicles; how with his wife, how with his son,
who attempted to confute him, and cavilled at him.
For he well remembered that no one is master of the
ruling faculty of another; and therefore he desired
nothing but what was his own. " And what is that? "
Not that any particular person should be dealt with
conformably to nature, for that belongs to others;
but that while they act in their own way, as they
please, he should nevertheless live conformably to
nature, only doing what belongs to himself, in order
to make them live conformably to nature also. For
this is the point that a wise and good person has in
view. To have the command of an army? No; but
if it be allotted him, to properly apply his own powers
in that sphere. To marry? No; but if marriage be
allotted him, to act in this sphere also according to
the laws of nature. But if he expects perfection in
his wife or his child, then he asks to have that for
his own which really belongs to others. And wisdom
consists in this very point, to learn what things are
our own and what belong to others.
What room is there then for quarrelling, to a person thus disposed? For does he wonder at anything
that happens? Does it appear strange to him? Does
he not prepare for worse and more grievous injuries
from bad people than actually happen to him? Does
he not reckon it so much gained if they come short
of the last extremities? Such a one has reviled you.
You are much obliged to him that he has not struck
you. But he has struck you too. You are much
obliged to him that he has not wounded you too.
But he has wounded you too. You are much obliged
to him that he has not killed you. For when did he
ever learn, or from whom, that he is a gentle, that he
is a social, animal; that the very injury itself is a
great mischief to him who inflicts it? As, then, he
has not learned these things, nor believes them, why
should he not follow what appears to be for his interest? Your neighbor has thrown stones. What then;
is it any fault of yours? But your goods are broken.
What then; are you a piece of furniture? No, but
your essence consists in the faculty of will. What
behavior then is assigned you in return? If you are
considering yourself as a wolf, then to bite again,
to throw more stones. But if you ask the question as
a man, then examine your treasure; see what faculties you have brought into the world with you. Are
they fitted for ferocity; for revenge? When is a
horse miserable? When he is deprived of his natural
faculties; not when he cannot crow, but when he
cannot run. And a dog? Not when he cannot fly,
but when he cannot hunt. Is not a man, then, also
unhappy in the same manner; not he who cannot
strangle lions or perform great athletic feats (for he
has received no faculties for this purpose from nature);
but he who has lost his rectitude of mind, his fidelity?
This is he who ought to receive public condolence
for the misfortunes into which he is fallen; not, by
Heaven! either he who has the misfortune to be born
or to die; but he whom it has befallen while he lives
to lose what is properly his own; not his paternal
possessions, his paltry estate or his house, his lodging
or his slaves, for none of these are a man's own; but
all these belong to others, are servile, dependent, and
very variously assigned by the disposers of them. But
his personal qualifications as a man, the impressions
which he brought into the world stamped upon his
mind; such as we look for in money, accepting or
rejecting it accordingly. "What impression has this
piece of money? " "Trajan's." "Give it me."
" Nero's." 74 Throw it away. It is false; it is good
for nothing. So in the other case. "What stamp
have his principles?" "Gentleness, social affection,
patience, good-nature." Bring them hither. I receive them. I make such a man a citizen; I receive
him for a neighbor, a fellow-traveller. Only see that
he have not the Neronian stamp. Is he passionate?
Is he resentful? Is he querulous? Would he, if he
took the fancy, break the heads of those who fell in
his way? Why then do you call him a man? For
is everything determined by a mere outward form?
Then say, just as well, that a piece of wax is an apple,
or that it has the smell and taste too. The external
figure is not enough; nor, consequently, is it sufficient
to constitute a man that he has a nose and eyes, if
he have not the proper principles of a man. Such a
one does not understand reason, or apprehend when
he is confuted. He is like an ass. Another is dead
to the sense of shame. He is a worthless creature;
anything rather than a man. Another seeks whom he
may kick or bite; so that he is neither sheep nor ass.
But what then? He is a wild beast.
"Well, but would you have me despised, then?"
By whom, - by those who know you? And how can
they despise you who know you to be gentle and
modest? But perhaps by those who do not know
you? And what is that to you? For no other artist
troubles himself about those ignorant of art. "But
people will be much readier to attack me." Why do
you say me? Can any one hurt your will, or restrain
you from treating, conformably to nature, the phenomena of existence? Why, then, are you disturbed
and desirous to make yourself appear formidable?
Why do you not make public proclamation that you
are at peace with all mankind, however they may act;
and that you chiefly laugh at those who suppose they
can hurt you? "These wretches neither know who
I am, nor in what consist my good and evil; nor how
little they can touch what is really mine." Thus the
inhabitants of a fortified city laugh at the besiegers.
"What trouble, now, are these people giving themselves for nothing! Our wall is secure; we have
provisions for a very long time, and every other
preparation." These are what render a city fortified
and impregnable; but nothing but its principles
render the human soul so. For what wall is so strong,
what body so impenetrable, what possession so unalienable, what dignity so secured against stratagems?
All things else, everywhere else, are mortal, easily
reduced; and whoever in any degree fixes his mind
upon them must necessarily be subject to perturbation,
despair, terrors, lamentations, disappointed desires, and
unavailing aversions.
And will we not fortify, then, the only citadel that
is granted us; and withdrawing ourselves from what
is mortal and servile, diligently improve what is immortal and by nature free? Do we not remember
that no one either hurts or benefits another; but only
the views which we hold concerning everything? It
is this that hurts us; this that overturns us. Here is
the fight, the sedition, the war. It was nothing else
that made Eteocles and Polynices enemies, but their
views concerning empire, and their principles concerning exile; that the one seemed the extremest
evil, the other the greatest good. Now, the very
nature of every one is to pursue good, to avoid evil;
to esteem him as an enemy and betrayer who deprives
us of the one and involves us in the other, though he
be a brother, or a son, or father. For nothing is more
nearly related to us than good. So that if good and
evil consist in externals, there is no affection between
father and son, brother and brother; but all is everywhere full of enemies, betrayers, sycophants. But if
a right choice be the only good, and a wrong one the
only evil, what further room is there for quarrelling,
for reviling? About what can it be? About what is
nothing to us. Against whom? Against the ignorant,
against the unhappy, against those who are deceived
in the most important respects.
Mindful of this, Socrates lived in his own house,
patiently bearing a furious wife, a senseless son. For
what were the effects of her fury? The throwing as
much water as she pleased on his head, the trampling a cake under her feet.75 " And what is this to me,
if I think such things nothing to me? This very point
is my business; and neither a tyrant, nor a master;
shall restrain my will; nor multitudes, though I am a
single person; nor one ever so strong, though I am
ever so weak. For this is given by God to every one,
free from restraint."
These principles make friendship in families, concord in cities, peace in nations. They make a person
grateful to God, everywhere courageous, as dealing
with things merely foreign and of minor importance.
But we, alas ! are able indeed to write and read these
things, and to praise them when they are read; but
very far from being convinced by them. In that case,
what is said of the Lacedemonians, -
Lions at home, foxes at Ephesus,
may be applied to us, too; lions in the school, but
foxes out of it.