De Amicitia

Tiberius Gracchus tried to obtain regal power—or rather, he actually did reign for a few months. Had the Roman people ever heard of or experienced such a thing before? What his friends and relatives, who followed him even after his death, did in the case of Publius Scipio[*](Seyffert and Lahmeyer say that this Scipio is probably not Africanus the Younger, the friend of Laelius, as contended by Nauck and others, but P. Cornelius Scipio Nasica Serapis, consul 138 B.C., pontifex maximus, who led the Senators in an attack on Tiberius Gracchus when the latter was killed in 133. Scipio Serapis fled from Rome and died soon after in Pergamum.)I cannot describe without tears. As for Carbo, because of the short time since the punishment of Tiberius Gracchus,[*](i.e. on account of the recent killing of Tiberius Gracchus and the consequent excitement of the people.)we have borne with him as best we could. Now what is to be expected when Gaius Gracchus[*](Gaius Gracchus, though in 129 (the time of the dialogue) the leader of the popular party, did not become tribune until 123.)becomes tribune, I am not inclined to prophecy; however, revolution creeps on imperceptibly at first but once it has acquired momentum, rushes headlong to ruin.[*](Reid translates, Affairs soon (deinde) move on, for they glide readily down the path of ruin when once they have taken a start.) You see how much mischief has been caused already in the matter of the ballot, first by the Gabinian law,[*](Introduced voting by ballot and so called from its author, A. Gabinius, plebeian tribune, 139 B.C.)and two years later by the Cassian law.[*](The Cassian law extended the ballot to juries in criminal cases; it was passed in 137 and named from its author, L. Cassius Ravilla.)I seem now to see the people estranged from the Senate and the weightiest affairs of state determined by the caprice of the mob. For more people will learn how to start a revolution than how to withstand it.

Why do I say these things? Because without

Hence such alliances of wicked men not only should not be protected by a plea of friendship, but rather they should be visited with summary punishment of the severest kind, so that no one may think it permissible to follow even a friend when waging war against his country. And yet this very thing, considering the course affairs have begun to take, will probably happen at some future time; as for me, I am no less concerned for what the condition of the commonwealth will be after my death, than I am for its condition to-day.

Therefore let this be ordained as the first law of friendship: Ask of friends only what is honourable; do for friends only what is honourable and

I say this because certain men who, I am informed, are considered sages in Greece, have approved certain views, which, in my opinion, are astonishing (but there is nothing that those men will not pursue with their subtleties). Some of these men teach that too much intimacy in friendships should be avoided, lest it be necessary for one man to be full of anxiety for many; that each one of us has business of his own, enough and to spare; that it is annoying to be too much involved in the affairs of other people; that it is best to hold the reins of friendship as loosely as possible, so that we may either draw them up or slacken them at will; for, they say, an essential of a happy life is freedom from care, and this the soul cannot enjoy if one man is, as it were, in travail for many.

Again, there are others, I am told, who, with even less of human feeling, maintain (and I briefly touched on this point just now) that friendships must be sought for the sake of the defence and aid they give and not out of goodwill and affection; therefore, that those least endowed with firmness of character and strength of body have the greatest longing for friendship; and consequently, that helpless women, more than men, seek its shelter, the poor more than the rich, and the unfortunate more than those who are

O noble philosophy! Why, they seem to take the sun out of the universe when they deprive life of friendship, than which we have from the immortal gods no better, no more delightful boon. For of what value is their vaunted freedom from care? In appearance it is indeed an alluring thing, but in reality often to be shunned. For it is inconsistent not to undertake any honourable business or course of conduct, or to lay it aside when undertaken, in order to avoid anxiety. Nay, if we continually flee from trouble, we must also flee from Virtue, who necessarily meets with some trouble in rejecting and loathing things contrary to herself, as when kindness rejects ill-will, temperance lust, and bravery cowardice. And so you may see that it is the just who are most pained at injustice, the brave at cowardice, the self-restrained at profligacy. It is, therefore, characteristic of the well-ordered mind both to rejoice at good deeds and to be pained at the reverse.

Wherefore, if distress of mind befalls a wise man (as it certainly does unless we assume that human sympathy has been rooted out of his heart), why should we remove friendship entirely from our lives in order that we may suffer no worries on its account? For when the soul is deprived of emotion, what difference is there—I do not say between man and the beasts of the field, but between man and a stock or a stone, or any such thing? Nor are we to listen to those men[*](i.e. the Stoics.)who maintain that virtue is hard and unyielding and is, as it were, something made of iron; whereas, in many relations of life, and especially in friendship, it is so pliable and elastic that it expands, so to speak, with a friend’s

But, since, as I said before, virtue knits friendship together, if there should be some exhibition of shining virtue to which a kindred spirit may attach and adjust itself, then, when that happens, love must needs spring forth.

For is there anything so absurd as to delight in many inanimate things, like public office, fame, and stately buildings, or dress and personal adornment, and to take little or no delight in a sentient being endowed with virtue and capable of loving, and—if I may so term it—of loving back[*](Cicero coins the word redamare from the Greek ἀντιφιλεῖν, but uses it nowhere else.)? For nothing gives more pleasure than the return of goodwill and the interchange of zealous service.

And what if I also add, as I may fairly do, that nothing so allures and attracts anything to itself as likeness does to friendship? Then it surely will be granted as a fact that good men love and join to themselves other good men, in a union which is almost that of relationship and nature. For there is nothing more eager or more greedy than nature for what is like itself. Wherefore, because of this very fact, I think it should be evident, Fannius and Scaevola, that the good have for the good, as if from necessity, a kindly feeling which nature has made the fountain of friendship. But this same goodness belongs also to the generality of men. For virtue is not unfeeling, unwilling to serve, or proudly exclusive, but it is her wont to protect even whole nations and to plan the best measures for their welfare, which she

And again, it seems to me at any rate, that those who[*](i.e. those referred to in § 46 ad init., the Cyrenaics followers of Aristippus of Cyrene.)falsely assume expediency to be the basis of friendship, take from friendship’s chain its loveliest link. For it is not so much the material gain procured through a friend, as it is his love, and his love alone, that gives us delight; and that advantage which we derive from him becomes a pleasure only when his service is inspired by an ardent zeal. And it is far from being true that friendship is cultivated because of need; rather, is it cultivated by those who are most abundantly blessed with wealth and power and especially with virtue, which is man’s best defence; by those least in need of another’s help; and by those most generous and most given to acts of kindness. Indeed, I should be inclined to think that it is not well for friends never to need anything at all. Wherein, for example, would my zeal have displayed itself if Scipio had never been in need of my advice or assistance either at home or abroad?[*](But Cf. § 30: Quid enim? Africanus indigens mei?) It is not the case, therefore, that friendship attends upon advantage, but, on the contrary, that advantage attends upon friendship.

It will be our duty, then, not to listen to those besotted men of pleasure[*](i.e. Epicureans and Cyrenaics, referred to in § 46)when they argue about friendship, of which they understand neither the practice nor the theory. For what person is there, in the name of gods and men! who would wish to be surrounded by unlimited wealth and to abound in every material blessing, on condition that he love no one and that no one love him? Such indeed is the life of tyrants—a life, I mean, in which there can be no faith, no affection, no trust in the

For can anyone love either the man whom he fears, or the man by whom he believes himself to be feared? Yet tyrants are courted under a pretence of affection, but only for a season. For when by chance they have fallen from power, as they generally do, then is it known how poor they were in friends. And this is illustrated by the remark said to have been made by Tarquin as he was going into exile: I have learned what friends of mine are true and what are false, now that I am no longer able to reward or punish either.

And yet, such was the haughtiness and perversity of the man that I wonder if he could have had anyone as a friend. Now just as the character of Tarquin could not procure him true friends, so, with many, their power, if it be very great, is a bar to faithful friendships. For not only is Fortune blind herself, but as a rule she even blinds those whom she has embraced; and thus they are generally transported beyond themselves by wanton pride and obstinacy—nor can anything in the world be more insufferable than one of Fortune’s fools. Indeed we may observe that men, formerly affable in their manners, become changed by military rank, by power, and by prosperity, spurn their old-time friends and revel in the new.

But what is more foolish, when men are in the plenitude of resources, opportunities, and wealth, than to procure the other things which money provides—horses, slaves, splendid raiment, and costly plate—and not procure friends, who are, if I may say so, life’s best and fairest furniture? And really while they are procuring

We now have to determine in our discussion of friendship what are the limits and, so to speak, the boundary lines of affection. On this point I observe that three views are usually advanced, none of which I approve: first, That we should have the same feeling for our friends that we have for ourselves; second, That our goodwill towards our friends should correspond in all respects to their goodwill towards us, and third, That whatever value a man places upon himself, the same value should be placed upon him by his friends.

I do not agree at all with any of these views. Certainly the first one is not true which holds that as a man feels towards himself, so should he feel towards his friend. For how many things we do for our friends that we never would do for ourselves! At one time we beg and entreat an unworthy man, and again we assail another too sharply or too loudly rail upon him—things not quite creditable in our own affairs, but exceedingly so in behalf of our friends; and there are numerous occasions when good men forgo, or permit themselves to be deprived of, many conveniences in order that their friends rather than themselves may enjoy them.

The second view limits friendship to an equal

But worst of all is the third limitation, which is that whatever value a man places upon himself, the same value should be placed upon him by his friends. For often in some men either the spirit is too dejected, or the hope of bettering their fortune is too faint. Therefore, it is not the province of a friend, in such a case, to have the same estimate of another that the other has of himself, but rather it is his duty to strive with all his might to arouse his friend’s prostrate soul and lead it to a livelier hope and into a better train of thought. Hence some other limitation of true friendship must be fixed, after I have first stated a view which Scipio used to condemn in the strongest terms. He often said that no utterance could be found more at war with friendship than that of the man who had made this remark: We should love as if at some time we were going to hate. And Scipio really could not, he said, be induced to adopt the commonly accepted belief that this expression was made by Bias,[*](Aristotle, Rhet. ii. 13 κατὰ τὴν βίαντος ὑποθήκην και φιλοῦσιν ὡς μισήσοντες καὶ μισοῦσιν ὡς φιλήσοντες.) who was counted one of the Seven Sages; but he thought that it was the speech of some abandoned wretch, or scheming politician, or of someone who regarded everything as an instrument

Wherefore this maxim, whoever its author, really has the effect of destroying friendship: rather ought we to have been enjoined to exercise such care in forming friendships that we should never begin to love anyone whom we might sometime hate. Indeed, Scipio thought that, even if we had been unfortunate in our choice, we should endure it rather than plan an opportunity for a breach.