citizens, but riot so much as in magistrates. Not, indeed, because
some things are superior, must we undervalue the use which other
things have. There is a certain value in the power of speaking, but it
is not so great as the power of the will. When, then, I speak thus,
let no man think that I ask you to neglect the power of speaking,
for neither do I ask you to neglect the eyes, nor the ears nor the
hands nor the feet nor clothing nor shoes. But if you ask me, "What,
then, is the most excellent of all things?" what must I say? I
cannot say the power of speaking, but the power of the will, when it
is right. For it is this which uses the other, and all the other
faculties both small and great. For when this faculty of the will is
set right, a man who is not good becomes good: but when it falls, a
man becomes bad. It is through this that we are unfortunate, that we
are fortunate, that we blame one another, are pleased with one
another. In a word, it is this which if neglect it makes
unhappiness, and if we carefully look after it makes happiness.
But to take away the faculty of speaking, and to say that there is
no such faculty in reality, is the act not only of an ungrateful man
toward those who gave it, but also of a cowardly man: for such a
person seems to me to fear if there is any faculty of this kind,
that we shall not be able to despise it. Such also are those who say
that there is no difference between beauty and ugliness. Then it would
happen that a man would be affected in the same way if he saw
Thersites and if he saw Achilles; in the same way, if he saw Helen and
any other woman. But these are foolish and clownish notions, and the
notions of men who know not the nature of each thing, but are
afraid, if a man shall see the difference, that he shall immediately
be seized and carried off vanquished. But this is the great matter; to
leave to each thing the power which it has, and leaving to it this
power to see what is the worth of the power, and to learn what is
the most excellent of all things, and to pursue this always, to be
diligent about this, considering t all other things of secondary value
compared with this, but yet, as far as we can, not neglecting all
those other things. For we must take care of the eyes also, not as
if they were the most excellent thing, but we must take care of them
on account of the most excellent thing, because it will not be in
its true natural condition, if it does not rightly use the other
faculties, and prefer some things to others.
What then is usually done? Men generally act as a traveler would
do on his way to his own country, when he enters a good inn, and being
pleased with it should remain there. Man, you have forgotten your
purpose: you were not traveling to this inn, but you were pass through
it. "But this is a pleasant inn." And how many other inns are
pleasant? and how many meadows are pleasant? yet only passing through.
But your purpose is this, return to your country, to relieve your
kinsmen of anxiety, to discharge the duties of a citizen, to marry, to
beget children, to fill the usual magistracies. For you are not come
to select more pleasant places, but to live in these where you were
born and of which you were made a citizen. Something of the kind takes
place in the matter which we are considering. Since, by the aid of