De Ebrietate

Let us, then, never drink unmixed wine in such quantities as to cause insensibility to our outward senses, nor let us alienate ourselves to such a degree from knowledge as to diffuse ignorance, that vast and dense darkness, over our souls.

But there are two kinds of ignorance, one simple, being complete insensibility; and the other of a twofold nature, when a man is not only enveloped in ignorance, but also thinks that he knows what he never has known, being elated with an ungrounded opinion of his knowledge.

The former evil is the lighter one, for it is the cause of lighter offences, and of what we may perhaps call involuntary errors; but the second is of more importance, for it is the parent of great evils, and not only of unintentional but also of deliberate

These are the offences of which Lot, the the father of daughters, appears to me to be especially guilty, not being able to nourish a masculine and perfect plant in his soul; for he had two daughters by his wife, who was afterwards turned to stone, whom, using an appropriate appellation, one may call habit, a nature at variance with truth, and always, whenever any one tries to lead it on, lagging behind and looking round upon its ancient and customary ways, and remaining in the midst of them like a lifeless pillar.

Of these daughters of his the elder may be called Counsel, and the younger may be named Assent, for assent follows upon taking counsel; but no one after he has assented still takes counsel. Accordingly the mind, when it has taken its seat in its council chamber, begins to put its daughters in motion; and with the elder one, namely, Counsel, it begins to consider and investigate everything; and with the younger one, Assent, it begins easily to assent to the circumstances that arise, and to embrace what is hostile as though it were friendly, if they only present ever so slight an attraction of pleasure from this source.

But sober reasoning does not admit these things, but only that reasoning does so which is overcome with wine, and, as it were, drunk. On which account it is said, "They made their father drink wine." [*](Genesis xix. 33. ) That is to say, they brought complete insensibility on the mind, so that it fancied itself competent by its own abilities to judge what was expedient, and to assent to all sorts of apparent facts, as if they really had solid truth in them; human nature being by no means and under no circumstances competent either to ascertain the truth by consideration, or to choose real truth and advantage, or to reject what is false and the cause of injury;

for the great darkness which is spread over all existing bodies and things does not permit one to see the real nature of each thing, but even if any one, under the influence of immoderate curiosity or of a real love of learning, wishes to emerge from ignorance and to obtain a closer view, he, like people wholly deprived of sight, stumbling over what is before his feet, will fall, and so get behind hand before he can lay hold of anything; or else, snatching at something with his hands, [*](Genesis xix. 33. )

For even if education, holding a torch to the mind, conducts it on his way, kindling its own peculiar light, it would still, with reference to the perception of existing things, do harm rather than good; for a slight light is naturally liable to be extinguished by dense darkness, and when the light is extinguished all power of seeing is useless.

Accordingly we must, on these accounts, remind the man who gives himself airs by reason of his power of deliberating, or of wisely choosing one kind of objects and avoiding others, that if the same unalterable perceptions of the same things always occurred to us, it might perhaps be requisite to admire the two faculties of judging which are implanted in us by nature, namely, the outward senses and the intellect, as unerring and incorruptible, and never to doubt or hesitate about anything, but trusting in every first appearance to choose one kind of thing and to reject the contrary kind.

But since we are found to be influenced in different manners by the same things at different times, we should have nothing positive to assert about anything, inasmuch as what appears has no settled or stationary existence, but is subject to various, and multiform, and ever-recurring changes. For it follows of necessity, since the imagination is unstable, that the judgment formed by it must be unstable likewise;

and there are many reasons for this. In the first place, the differences which exist in animals are not in one particular only, but are unspeakable in point of number, extending through every part, having reference both to their creation and to the way in which they are furnished with their different faculties, and to their way of being supported and their habits, and to the manner in which they choose and avoid different things, and to the energies and motions of the outward senses, and to the peculiar properties of the endless passions affecting both the soul and body.

For without mentioning those animals which have the faculty of judgment, consider also some of those which are the objects of judgment, such as the chameleon and the polypus; for they say that the former of these animals changes his complexion so as to resemble the soils over which he is accustomed to creep, and that the other is like the rocks of the sea-shore

Again, have you never perceived the neck of the dove changing colour so as to assume a countless variety of hues in the rays of the sun? is it not by turns red, and purple and fiery coloured, and cinereous, and again pale, and ruddy, and every other variety of colour, the very names of which it is not easy to enumerate?

They say indeed that among the Scythians, among that tribe which is called the Geloni, most marvellous things happen, rarely indeed, but nevertheless it does happen; namely that there is a beast seen which is called the tarandus, not much less than an ox in size, and exceedingly like a stag in the character of his face. The story goes that this animal continually changes his coat according to the place in which he is, or the trees which he is near, and that in short he always resembles whatever he is near, so that through the similarity of his colour he escapes the notice of those who fall in with him, and that it is owing to this, rather than to any vigour of body, that he is hard to catch.

Now these facts and others which resemble them are visible proofs of our inability to comprehend everything. In the next place, not only are there all these variations with respect to animals, but there are also innumerable changes and varieties in men, and great differences between one man and another.

For not only do they form different opinions respecting the same things at different times, but different men also judge in different manners, some looking on things as pleasures, which others on the contrary regard as annoyances. For the things with which some persons are sometimes vexed, others delight in, and on the contrary the things, which some persons are eager to acquire and look upon as pleasant and suitable, those very same things others reject and drive to a distance as unsuitable and ill-omened.

At all events I have before now often seen in the theatre, when I have been there, some persons influenced by a melody of those who were exhibiting on the stage, whether dramatists or musicians, as to be excited and to join in the music, uttering encomiums without

And yet why do I say this? Every single individual among us (which is the most surprising thing of all) is subject to infinite changes and variations both in body and soul, and sometimes chooses and sometimes rejects things which are subject to no changes themselves, but which by their intrinsic nature do always remain in the same condition.

For the same fancies do not strike the same men when they are well and when they are ill, nor when they are awake and when they are asleep, nor when they are young and when they are old. And a man who is standing still often conceives different ideas from those which he entertains when he is in motion; and also when he is courageous, or when he is alarmed; again when he is grieved, or when he is delighted, and when he is in love, he feels differently from what he does when he is full of hatred.

And why need I be prolix and leep dwelling on these points? For in short every motion of both body and soul, whether in accordance with nature or in opposition to nature, is the cause of a great variation and change respecting the appearances which present themselves to us; from which all sorts of inconsistent and opposite dreams arise to occupy our minds.