Ch. 23
Of eloquence.
A book will always be read with more pleasure
and ease, if it be written in fair characters;
and so every one will the more easily attend to discourses likewise, if ornamented with proper and beautiful expressions. It ought not then to be said, that
there is no such thing as the faculty of eloquence; for
this would be at once the part of an impious and
timid person, - impious, because he dishonors the gifts
of God; just as if he should deny any use in the
faculties of sight, hearing, and speech itself. Has
God then given you eyes in vain? Is it in vain that
he has infused into them such a strong and active
spirit as to be able to represent the forms of distant
objects? What messenger is so quick and diligent?
Is it in vain that he has made the intermediate air
so yielding and elastic that sight penetrates through
it? And is it in vain that he has made the light,
without which all the rest would be useless? Man,
be not ungrateful, nor, on the other hand, unmindful
of your superior advantages; but for sight and hearing, and indeed for life itself, and the supports of it,
as fruits and wine and oil, be thankful to God; but
remember that he has given you another thing, superior to them all, which uses them, proves them,
estimates the value of each. For what is it that pronounces upon the value of each of these faculties?
Is it the faculty itself? Did you ever perceive the
faculty of sight or hearing to say anything concerning itself; or wheat, or barley, or horses, or dogs?
No. These things are appointed as instruments and
servants, to obey that which is capable of using things
as they appear. If you inquire the value of anything, of what do you inquire? What is the faculty
that answers you? How then can any faculty be
superior to this, which uses all the rest as instruments, and tries and pronounces concerning each of
them? For which of them knows what itself is, and
what is its own value? Which of them knows when
it is to be used, and when not? Which is it that
opens and shuts the eyes, and turns them away from
improper objects? Is it the faculty of sight? No;
but that of Will. Which is it that opens and shuts
the ears? Which is it by which they are made curious and inquisitive, or, on the contrary, deaf, and
unaffected by what is said? Is it the faculty of hearing? No; but that of Will. This, then, recognizing
itself to exist amidst other faculties, all blind and
deaf, and unable to discern anything but those offices
in which they are appointed to minister and serve,
itself alone sees clearly, and distinguishes the value
of each of the rest. Will this, I say, inform us that
anything is supreme but itself? What can the eye,
when it is opened, do more than see? But whether
we ought to look upon the wife of any one, and in
what manner, what is it that decides us? The faculty of Will. Whether we ought to believe, or disbelieve what is said; or whether, if we do believe, we
ought to be moved by it, or not, what is it that
decides us? Is it not the faculty of Will? Again,
the very faculty of eloquence, and that which ornaments discourse, if any such peculiar faculty there
be, what does it more than merely ornament and
arrange expressions, as curlers do the hair? But
whether it be better to speak or to be silent, or
better to speak in this or in that manner, whether
this be decent or indecent, and the season and use
of each, what is it that decides for us, but the faculty
of Will? What, then; would you have it appear, and
bear testimony against itself? What means this?
If the case be thus, then that which serves may be
superior to that to which it is subservient; the horse
to the rider, the dog to the hunter, the instrument
to the musician, or servants to the king. What is
it that makes use of all the rest? The Will. What
takes care of all? The Will. What destroys the
whole man, at one time, by hunger; at another, by a
rope or a precipice? The Will. Has man, then,
anything stronger than this? And how is it possible
that what is liable to restraint should be stronger than
what is not? What has a natural power to restrain
the faculty of sight? The Will and its workings.
And it is the same with the faculties of hearing and
of speech. And what has a natural power of restraining the Will? Nothing beyond itself, only its
own perversion. Therefore in the Will alone is vice;
in the Will alone is virtue.
Since, then, the Will is such a faculty, and placed
in authority over all the rest, suppose it to come forth
and say to us that the body is of all things the most
excellent! If even the body itself pronounced itself
to be the most excellent, it could not be borne. But
now, what is it, Epicurus, that pronounces all this?
What was it that composed volumes concerning " the
End," " the Nature of things," "the Rule;" that assumed a philosophic beard; that as it was dying
wrote that it was " then spending its last and happiest
day "? 1 Was this the body, or was it the faculty of
Will? And can you, then, without madness, admit
44
anything to be superior to this? Are you in reality
so deaf and blind? What, then; does any one dishonor the other faculties? Heaven forbid! Does
any one assert that there is no use or excellence in the
faculty of sight? Heaven forbid ! It would be stupid,
impious, and ungrateful to God. But we render to
each its due. There is some use in an ass, though
not so much as in an ox; and in a dog, though not
so much as in a servant; and in a servant, though not
so much as in the citizens; and in the citizens,
though not so much as in the magistrates. And
though some are more excellent than others, those
uses which the last afford are not to be despised.
The faculty of eloquence has thus its value, though
not equal to that of the Will. When therefore I talk
thus, let not any one suppose that I would have you
neglect eloquence, any more than your eyes, or ears,
or hands, or feet, or clothes, or shoes. But if you
ask me what is the most excellent of things, what shall
I say? I cannot say eloquence, but a right Will;
for it is this which makes use of that and of all
the other faculties, whether great or small. If this
be set right, a bad man becomes good; if it be
wrong, a good man becomes wicked. By this we
are unfortunate or fortunate; we disapprove or
approve each other. In a word, it is this which,
neglected, forms unhappiness; and, well cultivated,
happiness.
But to take away the faculty of eloquence, and to
say that it is in reality nothing, is not only ungrateful
to those who gave it, but cowardly too. For such a
person seems to me to be afraid that, if there be any
such faculty, we may on occasion be compelled to respect it. Such are they too, who deny any difference
between beauty and deformity. Was it possible, then,
to be affected in the same manner by seeing Thersites,
as by Achilles; by Helen, as by any other woman?
These also are the foolish and clownish notions of
those who are ignorant of the nature of things, and
afraid that whoever perceives such a difference must
presently be carried away and overcome. But the
great point is to leave to each thing its own proper
faculty, and then to see what the value of that faculty
is; to learn what is the principal thing, and upon every
occasion to follow that, and to make it the chief object of our attention; to consider other things as
trifling in comparison with this, and yet, so far as we
are able, not to neglect even these. We ought, for
instance, to take care of our eyes; yet not as of the
principal thing, but only on account of that which is
principal; because that can no otherwise preserve its
own nature, than by making a due estimate of the
rest, and preferring some to others. What is the
usual practice, then? That of a traveller who, returning into his own country, and meeting on the way
with a good inn, being pleased with the inn, should
remain there. Have you forgotten your intention,
man? You were not travelling to this place, but only
through it. "But this is a fine place." And how many
other fine inns are there, and how many pleasant
fields, yet they are simply as a means of passage. What
is the real business? To return to your country; to
relieve the anxieties of your family; to perform the
duties of a citizen; to marry, have children, and go
through the public offices. For you did not travel in
order to choose the finest places; but to return, to
live in that where you were born, and of which you
are appointed a citizen.
Such is the present case. Because, by speech and
such instruction, we are to perfect our education and
purify our own will and rectify that faculty which
deals with things as they appear; and because, for
the statement of theorems, a certain diction, and some
variety and subtilty of discourse are needful, many,
captivated by these very things, -one by diction,
another by syllogisms, a third by convertible propositions, just as our traveller was by the good inn, - go
no further, but sit down and waste their lives shamefully there, as if amongst the sirens. Your business,
man, was to prepare yourself for such use of the
semblances of things as nature demands; not to fail
in what you seek, or incur what you shun; never to
be disappointed or unfortunate, but free, unrestrained,
uncompelled; conformed to the Divine Administration, obedient to that; finding fault with nothing,
but able to say, from your whole soul, the verses which
begin,
Conduct me, Zeus; and thou, O Destiny. A Fragment of Cleanthes, quoted in full in Enchiridion, c. 52.- H.
While you have such a business before you, will you
be so pleased with a pretty form of expression, or a
few theorems, as to choose to stay and live with them,
forgetful of your home, and say, "They are fine
things!" Why, who says they are not fine things?
But only as a means; as an inn. For what hinders
one speaking like Demosthenes from being miserable?
What hinders a logician equal to Chrysippus from
being wretched, sorrowful, envious, vexed, unhappy?
Nothing. You see, then, that these are merely unimportant inns, and what concerns you is quite another
thing. When I talk thus to some, they suppose that
I am setting aside all care about eloquence and about
theorems; but I do not object to that, only the
dwelling on these things incessantly, and placing our
hopes there. If any one, by maintaining this, hurts
his hearers, place me amongst those hurtful people;
for I cannot, when I see one thing to be the principal
and most excellent, call another so to please you.
