Concerning those public bodies by which men seem in a way to be bound to the state, the authority of Cicero alone, in the second book of the De Officiis, will suffice. "So long," he says, "as the Empire of the republic was maintained not by injustice, but by the benefits which it conferred, we fought either for our allies or for the Empire. Our wars brought with them an ending which was either indulgent, or else was absolutely necessary. All kings, peoples, and nations found a port of refuge in the Senate. Our magistrates and generals alike sought renown by defending our provinces and our allies with good faith and with justice. Our government might have been called not so much Empire, as a Protectorate of the whole world." So wrote Cicero.[227]
Of individuals I will speak shortly. Shall we not say that they intended the common good, who by hard toil, by poverty, by exile, by bereavement of their children, by loss of limb, by sacrifice of their lives, endeavoured to build up the public weal? Did not great Cincinnatus leave us a sacred example of freely laying down his office at its appointed end, when, as Livy tells us, he was taken from the plough and made dictator? And after his victory, after his triumph, he gave back his Imperator's sceptre to the consuls, and returned to the ploughshare to toil after his oxen.[228] Well did Cicero, arguing against Epicurus, in the volume De Finibus, speak in praise of him, mindful of this good deed.[229] "And so," he says, "our ancestors took Cincinnatus from the plough, and made him dictator."
Has not Fabricius left us a lofty example of resisting avarice, when, poor man as he was, for the faith by which he was bound to the republic, he laughed to scorn the great weight of gold which was offered him, and refused it, scorning it with words which became him well. His story too is confirmed by our poet in the sixth Æneid,[230] where he speaks of "Fabricius strong in his poverty."
Has not Camillus left us a memorable example of obeying the laws instead of seeking our private advantage? For according to Livy he was condemned to exile, and then, after that he had delivered his country from the invaders, and had restored to Rome her own Roman spoils, he yet turned to leave the sacred city, though the whole people bade him stay; nor did he return till leave was given him to come back by the authority of the Senate. This high-souled hero also is commended in the sixth Æneid, where our poet speaks of "Camillus, that restored to us our standards."[231]
Was not Brutus the first to teach that our sons, that all others, are second in importance to the liberty of our country? For Livy tells us how, when he was consul, he condemned his own sons to death, for that they had conspired with the enemy. His glory is made new in our poet's sixth book, where he sings how "The father shall summon the sons to die for the sake of fair liberty, when they seek to stir fresh wars."[232]
Has not Mucius encouraged us to dare everything for our country's sake, when after attacking Porsenna unawares, he watched the hand which had missed its stroke being burnt, though it was his own, as if he were beholding the torment of a foe? This also Livy witnesses to with astonishment.
Add to these those sacred victims the Decii, who laid down their lives by an act of devotion for the public safety, whom Livy glorifies in his narrative, not as they deserve, but as he was able. Add to these the self-sacrifice, which words cannot express, of Marcus Cato, that staunchest champion of true liberty. These were men of whom the one, that he might save his country, did not fear the shadow of death; while the other, that he might kindle in the world the passionate love of liberty, showed how dear was liberty, choosing to pass out of life a free man, rather than without liberty to abide in life.[233] The glory of all these heroes glows afresh in the words of Cicero in his book De Finibus; of the Decii he speaks thus: "Publius Decius, the head of the Decii, a consul, when he devoted himself for the state, and charged straight into the Latin host, was he thinking aught of his pleasure, where and when he should take it;—when he knew that he had to die at once, and sought that death with more eager desire than, according to Epicurus, we should seek pleasure? And were it not that his deed had justly received its praise, his son would not have done the like in his fourth consulship; nor would his grandson, again, in the war with Pyrrhus, have fallen, a consul, in battle; and, a third time in continuous succession in that family, have offered himself a victim for the commonwealth." But in the De Officiis,[234] Cicero says of Cato: "Marcus Cato was in no different position from his comrades who in Africa surrendered to Cæsar. The others, had they slain themselves, would perhaps have been blamed for the act, for their life was of less consequence,[235] and their principles were not so strict. But for Cato, to whom nature had given incredible firmness and who had strengthened this severity by his unremitting constancy to his principles, and who never formed a resolution by which he did not abide, he was indeed bound to die rather than to look on the face of a tyrant."
VI.—Two things therefore have been made clear: first, that whoever aims at the good of the state aims at right;[236] and secondly, that the Roman people in bringing the world into subjection, aimed at the public weal. Therefore let us argue thus: Whoever aims at right, walks according to right; the Roman people in bringing the world into subjection aimed at right, as we have made manifest in the preceding chapter. Therefore in bringing the world into subjection the Roman people acted according to right, consequently it was by right that they assumed the dignity of Empire.
We reach this conclusion on grounds which are manifest to all. It is manifest from this, that whosoever aims at right, walks according to right. To make this clear, we must mark that everything is made to gain a certain end, otherwise it would be in vain, and as we said before this cannot be. And as everything has its proper end, so every end has some distinct thing of which it is the end. And therefore it is impossible that any two things, spoken of as separate things,[237] and in so far as they are two, should have the same end as their aim, for so the same absurdity[238] would follow, that one of them would exist in vain. Since, then, there is a certain end of right, as we have explained, it necessarily follows that when we have decided what that end is, we have also decided what right is; for it is the natural and proper effect of right. And since in any sequence it is impossible to have an antecedent without its consequent, for instance, to have "man" without "animal," as is evident by putting together and taking to pieces the idea,[239] so also it is impossible to seek for the end of right without right, for each thing stands in the same relation to its proper end, as the consequent does to its antecedent; as without health it is impossible to attain to a good condition of the body. Wherefore, it is most evidently clear that he who aims at the end of right must aim in accordance with right; nor does the contradictory instance which is commonly drawn from Aristotle's treatment of "good counsel" avail anything.[240] He there says: "It is possible to obtain what is the right result from a syllogism, which is incorrect, but not by an argument which is right, for the middle term is wrong." For if sometimes a right conclusion is obtained from false principles, this is only by accident, and happens only in so far as the true conclusion is imported in the words of the inference. Truth never really follows from falsehood; but the signs of truth may easily follow from the signs of falsehood. So also it is in matters of conduct. If a thief helps a poor man out of the spoils of his thieving, we must not call that charity; but it is an action which would have the form of charity, if it had been done out of the man's own substance. And so of the end of right. If anything, such as the end of right, were gained without right, it would only be the end of right, that is, the common good, in the same sense that the gift, made from evil gains, is charity. And so the example proves nothing, for in our proposition we speak, not of the apparent but of the real end of right. What was sought, therefore, is clear.