De Amicitia

Cicero, Marcus Tullius

Cicero. De Senectute, De Amicitia, De Divinatione. Falconer, William Armistead, translator. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. London: William Heinemann Ltd. 1923 (printing).

To proceed then, let us interpret the word virtue by the familiar usage of our everyday life and speech, and not in pompous phrase apply to it the precise standards which certain philosophers use; and let us include in the number of good men those who are so considered—men like Paulus, Cato, Gallus, Scipio, and Philus—who satisfy the ordinary standard of life; but let us pass by such men as are nowhere to be found at all.[*](The ideally perfect men of the Stoics.)

Therefore, among men like those just mentioned, friendship offers advantages[*](Or more literally adaptabilities, occasions when it can be fitly used.) almost beyond my power to describe. In the first place, how can life be what Ennius calls the life worth living, if it does not repose on the mutual goodwill of a friend? What is sweeter than to have someone with whom you may dare discuss anything as if you were communing with yourself? How could your enjoyment in times of prosperity be so great if you did not have someone whose joy in them would be equal to your

own? Adversity would indeed be hard to bear, without him to whom the burden would be heavier even than to yourself. In short, all other objects of desire are each, for the most part, adapted to a single end-riches, for spending; influence, for honour; public office, for reputation; pleasures, for sensual enjoyment; and health, for freedom from pain and full use of the bodily functions; but friendship embraces innumerable ends; turn where you will it is ever at your side; no barrier shuts it out; it is never untimely and never in the way. Therefore, we do not use the proverbial[*](Proverbial, that is, as representing the prime necessities of life.) fire and water on more occasions than we use friendship. I am not now speaking of the ordinary and commonplace friendship—delightful and profitable as it is—but of that pure and faultless kind, such as was that of the few whose friendships are known to fame. For friendship adds a brighter radiance to prosperity and lessens the burden of adversity by dividing and sharing it.[*](Cf. Bacon’s Friendship: This communicating of a man’s self to his friend worketh two contrary effects; for it redoubleth Joys and cutteth Griefs in Halves.)

Seeing that friendship includes very many and very great advantages, it undoubtedly excels all other things in this respect, that it projects the bright ray of hope into the future, and does not suffer the spirit to grow faint or to fall. Again, he who looks upon a true friend, looks, as it were, upon a sort of image of himself. Wherefore friends, though absent, are at hand; though in need, yet abound; though weak, are strong; and—harder saying still— though dead, are yet alive; so great is the esteem on the part of their friends, the tender recollection and the deep longing that still attends them. These things make the death of the departed seem fortunate and the life of the survivors worthy of praise.

But if you should take the bond of goodwill out of the universe no house or city could stand, nor would even the tillage of the fields abide. If that statement is not clear, then you may understand how great is the power of friendship and of concord from a consideration of the results of enmity and disagreement. For what house is so strong, or what state so enduring that it cannot be utterly overthrown by animosities and division?

From this it may be judged how great good there is in friendship.

It is said, at any rate, that a certain learned man of Agrigentum[*](Empedocles, according to whom φιλότης (friendship) and νεῖκος (strife) are perpetually at war, causing the four elements to unite or disperse, ἄλλοτε μὲν φιλότητι συνερχόμεν᾽ εἰς ἓν ἅπαντα,ἄλλοτε δ᾽ αὖ δίχ᾽ ἕκαστα φορεύμενα νείκεος ἔχθει.) sang in inspired strain in Greek verse that in nature and the entire universe whatever things are at rest and whatever are in motion are united by friendship and scattered by discord. And indeed this is a statement which all men not only understand but also approve. Whenever, therefore, there comes to light some signal service in undergoing or sharing the dangers of a friend, who does not proclaim it with the loudest praise? What shouts recently rang through the entire theatre during the performance of the new play, written by my guest and friend, Marcus Pacuvius,[*](The title is uncertain, but the subject was that of Euripides’ Iphigenia in Tauris.)at the scene where, the king being ignorant which of the two was Orestes, Pylades, who wished to be put to death instead of his friend, declared, I am Orestes, while Orestes continued steadfastly to assert, as was the fact, I am Orestes! The people in the audience rose to their feet and cheered this incident in fiction; what, think we, would they have done had it occurred in real life? In this case Nature easily asserted her own power, inasmuch as men approved in another as well done that which they could not do themselves.

Within the foregoing limits I have, I think, been able to state my estimate of friendship; if there is anything more to be said—and I believe there is a great deal—inquire, if you please, of those who make a business of such discussions.