Chapter II — The One End All Things Seek

The Text

Chapter II

For a little space she remained in a fixed gaze, withdrawn, as it were, into the august chamber of her mind; then she thus began:

'All mortal creatures in those anxious aims which find employment in so many varied pursuits, though they take many paths, yet strive to reach one goal—the goal of happiness. Now, the good is that which, when a man hath got, he can lack nothing further. This it is which is the supreme good of all, containing within itself all particular good; so that if anything is still wanting thereto, this cannot be the supreme good, since something would be left outside which might be desired. 'Tis clear, then, that happiness is a state perfected by the assembling together of all good things. To this state, as we have said, all men try to attain, but by different paths. For the desire of the true good is naturally implanted in the minds of men; only error leads them aside out of the way in pursuit of the false. Some, deeming it the highest good to want for nothing, spare no pains to attain affluence; others, judging the good to be that to which respect is most worthily paid, strive to win the reverence of their fellow-citizens by the attainment of official dignity. Some there are who fix the chief good in supreme power; these either wish themselves to enjoy sovereignty, or try to attach themselves to those who have it. Those, again, who think renown to be something of supreme excellence are in haste to spread abroad the glory of their name either through the arts of war or of peace. A great many measure the attainment of good by joy and gladness of heart; these think it the height of happiness to give themselves over to pleasure. Others there are, again, who interchange the ends and means one with the other in their aims; for instance, some want riches for the sake of pleasure and power, some covet power either for the sake of money or in order to bring renown to their name. So it is on these ends, then, that the aim of human acts and wishes is centred, and on others like to these—for instance, noble birth and popularity, which seem to compass a certain renown; wife and children, which are sought for the sweetness of their possession; while as for friendship, the most sacred kind indeed is counted in the category of virtue, not of fortune; but other kinds are entered upon for the sake of power or of enjoyment. And as for bodily excellences, it is obvious that they are to be ranged with the above. For strength and stature surely manifest power; beauty and fleetness of foot bring celebrity; health brings pleasure. It is plain, then, that the only object sought for in all these ways is happiness. For that which each seeks in preference to all else, that is in his judgment the supreme good. And we have defined the supreme good to be happiness. Therefore, that state which each wishes in preference to all others is in his judgment happy.

'Thou hast, then, set before thine eyes something like a scheme of human happiness—wealth, rank, power, glory, pleasure. Now Epicurus, from a sole regard to these considerations, with some consistency concluded the highest good to be pleasure, because all the other objects seem to bring some delight to the soul. But to return to human pursuits and aims: man's mind seeks to recover its proper good, in spite of the mistiness of its recollection, but, like a drunken man, knows not by what path to return home. Think you they are wrong who strive to escape want? Nay, truly there is nothing which can so well complete happiness as a state abounding in all good things, needing nothing from outside, but wholly self-sufficing. Do they fall into error who deem that which is best to be also best deserving to receive the homage of reverence? Not at all. That cannot possibly be vile and contemptible, to attain which the endeavours of nearly all mankind are directed. Then, is power not to be reckoned in the category of good? Why, can that which is plainly more efficacious than anything else be esteemed a thing feeble and void of strength? Or is renown to be thought of no account? Nay, it cannot be ignored that the highest renown is constantly associated with the highest excellence. And what need is there to say that happiness is not haunted by care and gloom, nor exposed to trouble and vexation, since that is a condition we ask of the very least of things, from the possession and enjoyment of which we expect delight? So, then, these are the blessings men wish to win; they want riches, rank, sovereignty, glory, pleasure, because they believe that by these means they will secure independence, reverence, power, renown, and joy of heart. Therefore, it is the good which men seek by such divers courses; and herein is easily shown the might of Nature's power, since, although opinions are so various and discordant, yet they agree in cherishing good as the end.'

Song IIThe Bent of Nature.

How the might of Nature sways All the world in ordered ways, How resistless laws control Each least portion of the whole— Fain would I in sounding verse On my pliant strings rehearse.

Lo, the lion captive ta'en Meekly wears his gilded chain; Yet though he by hand be fed, Though a master's whip he dread, If but once the taste of gore Whet his cruel lips once more, Straight his slumbering fierceness wakes, With one roar his bonds he breaks, And first wreaks his vengeful force On his trainer's mangled corse.

And the woodland songster, pent In forlorn imprisonment, Though a mistress' lavish care Store of honeyed sweets prepare; Yet, if in his narrow cage, As he hops from bar to bar, He should spy the woods afar, Cool with sheltering foliage, All these dainties he will spurn, To the woods his heart will turn; Only for the woods he longs, Pipes the woods in all his songs.

To rude force the sapling bends, While the hand its pressure lends; If the hand its pressure slack, Straight the supple wood springs back. Phœbus in the western main Sinks; but swift his car again By a secret path is borne To the wonted gates of morn.

Thus are all things seen to yearn In due time for due return; And no order fixed may stay, Save which in th' appointed way Joins the end to the beginning In a steady cycle spinning.

A new modern English rendering, made from the Latin with AI assistance — a reading aid, not a scholarly edition.

Chapter II

Then, fixing her gaze a little downward and withdrawing, as it were, into the inmost dwelling of her mind, she began like this:

"Every concern of mortals, which the labor of their many pursuits keeps busy, travels indeed by different roads, yet strives to arrive at one and the same end, that of happiness. And happiness is the good which, once a person has obtained it, leaves him nothing further to desire. It is itself the highest of all goods, and contains all goods within itself; for if anything were missing from it, it could not be the highest, since something would be left outside that could still be wished for. Clearly, then, happiness is a state made perfect by the gathering together of all goods.

"This, as I said, all mortals try to reach by different paths. For there is naturally implanted in the minds of human beings a longing for the true good, but error, going astray, leads them off toward false goods. Of these, some, believing the highest good to be the lack of nothing, work hard to overflow with riches. Others, judging the good to be what is most worthy of reverence, strive by gaining honors to be revered by their fellow citizens. There are those who place the highest good in the highest power: these either want to rule themselves, or to attach themselves to those who rule. But to those who think distinction the best thing, these hurry to spread a glorious name by the arts of war or of peace. Very many, however, measure the fruit of the good by joy and gladness; these think it most happy to dissolve in pleasure. There are also those who exchange the ends and causes of these things one for another: some desire riches for the sake of power and pleasures, or seek power either for the sake of money or for the sake of spreading their name.

"In these things, then, and in others of the kind, the aim of human actions and prayers turns: such as nobility and popular favor, which seem to procure a certain renown; wife and children, which are sought for the sake of pleasantness; while friends—which is the most sacred kind—are counted not as part of fortune but of virtue; everything else is taken on either for the sake of power or of delight. Now it is plain that bodily goods are to be referred to the things above: for strength and size seem to confer power, beauty and swiftness fame, health pleasure. By all of these it is clear that happiness alone is desired; for whatever a person seeks before all else, that he judges to be the highest good. But we have defined the highest good as happiness; therefore each person judges blessed the state he desires before all others.

"So you have before your eyes the general shape of human happiness laid out: wealth, honors, power, glory, pleasures. Looking at these alone, Epicurus consistently held the highest good to be pleasure, because all the rest seem to bring delight to the soul.

"But I return to the pursuits of human beings, whose minds, though their memory be clouded, still seek their own good back again, but, like a drunken man, do not know by which road to return home. Surely those who strive to lack nothing do not seem to be in error? And indeed there is nothing that could complete happiness as well as a state rich in all goods, needing nothing of another's, but self-sufficient. And surely those go astray who think that what is best is also most worthy of the worship of reverence? Not at all; for it is no cheap and contemptible thing that the aim of nearly all mortals labors to obtain. And is power not to be counted among the goods? Then what? Is that to be judged feeble and without strength which is agreed to surpass all things? Or is renown to be reckoned as nothing? But it cannot be separated out that whatever is most excellent should also seem most renowned. As for there being no anxiety or sadness in happiness, no subjection to pains and troubles—why mention it, when even in the smallest things people seek what it delights them to have and enjoy? These, then, are the things people want to obtain, and for that reason they desire riches, dignities, kingdoms, glory, and pleasures: because through these they believe self-sufficiency, reverence, power, fame, and gladness will come to them. The good, then, is what people seek by such different pursuits; and how great is the force of nature in this is easily shown, since, though their opinions are various and disagreeing, they nevertheless agree in loving the good as their end."

Song IIThe Bent of Nature.

How mighty Nature holds the reins of things, by what laws she providently keeps the boundless world and binds each single thing, tying it with a knot that cannot be undone— this I am pleased to set forth in clear-toned song, upon the supple strings.

Though the Punic lions wear handsome chains and take the food given them by hand, and fear their cruel master, used to bearing his blows— yet if blood has stained their bristling jaws, their spirits, drowsy till now, return, and with a heavy roar they remember themselves. They loosen the knots and free their necks, and the trainer, first torn by the bloody tooth, slakes their raging fury.

The chattering bird that sings on the high branches is shut in the hollow of a cage; though a playful human's care may serve it cups smeared with honey and lavish food out of sweet devotion— yet if, hopping in its narrow prison, it has glimpsed the pleasant shadows of the woods, it tramples the scattered food beneath its feet, mourning, it longs only for the forest, in a sweet voice it whispers of the forest.

A sapling, bent down by mighty force, bows its top toward the ground; but if the hand that curved it lets go, it looks straight up again to the sky.

Phoebus sinks into the western waves, but by a hidden path he again turns his chariot toward his accustomed rising.

All things seek again their own returnings, and each rejoices in its own return. No order remains assigned to anything except what joins its end to its beginning and makes its own course steadfast.