Part 13

And at the same time, by this continual cycle, nature provides for the continuance of the race as a species, since she can not do so numerically. Thus divinely predisposed toward such a society is the nature of both the male and the female. For the sexes are at once divided, in that neither of them have powers adequate for all purposes, nay, in some respects even opposite to each other, tho they tend to the same end. For nature has made the one sex stronger and the other weaker, that the one by reason of fear may be more adapted to preserve property, while the other, by reason of its fortitude, may be disposed to repel assaults; and that the one may provide things abroad, while the other preserves them at home. And with respect to labor, the one is by nature capable of attending to domestic duties, but weak as to matters out-of-doors; the other is ill-adapted to works where repose is necessary, but able to perform those which demand exercise. And with respect to children, the bearing of them belongs to one sex, but the advantage of them is common to both; for the one has to rear them, and the other to educate them....

A good and perfect wife ought to be mistress of everything within the house, and to have the care of everything according to fixt laws; allowing no one to come in unbidden by her husband, and especially keeping on her guard against everything which can be noised abroad relating to a woman's dishonor. So that if any mischance has happened within doors, she alone ought to know about it; but when those who have come in have done anything wrong, the husband should bear the blame. And she should manage the expenses laid out upon such festivals as her husband has agreed with her in keeping, and make an outlay of clothes and other ornaments on a somewhat lesser scale than is encouraged by the laws of the state; considering that neither splendor of vestments, nor preeminence of beauty, nor the amount of gold, contributes so much to the commendation of a woman as good management in domestic affairs, and a noble and comely manner of life; since all such array of the soul is far more lovely, and has greater force (than anything besides), to provide herself and her children true ornament till old age.

A wife therefore ought to inspire herself with confidence, and perpetually to be at the head of domestic affairs. For it is unseemly for a man to know all that goes on in the house; in all respects indeed she ought to be obedient to her husband, and not to busy herself about public affairs, nor to take part in matrimonial concerns. And when it is time to give his daughters in marriage, or to get wives for his sons, by all means in these respects she should obey her husband. And she ought to show herself a fellow counsellor to her husband, so as to assent to what pleases him, remembering that it is less unseemly for a husband to take in hand domestic matters, than for a wife to busy herself in affairs out-of-doors. But the well-ordered wife will justly consider the behavior of her husband as a model of her own life, and a law to herself, invested with a divine sanction by means of the marriage tie and the community of life. For if she can persuade herself to bear her husband's ways patiently, she will most easily manage matters in the house; but if she can not, she will have greater difficulty. So that it will be seemly for her to show herself of one mind with her husband, and tractable, not only when her husband is in good luck and prosperity, but also when he is in misfortune; and when good fortune has failed him or sickness has laid hold of his bodily frame, or when he has been deprived of his senses, she ought gently and sympathetically to yield in any matter which is not base and unworthy; but if her husband has been ailing and made a mistake, she ought not to keep it on her mind, but to lay the blame on disease or ignorance....

But the husband in his turn should find out certain laws to regulate his treatment of his wife, as one who entered the house of her husband to share his children and his life, and to leave him a progeny destined to bear the names of her husband's parents and her own. And what in the world could there be more holy than these ties? or what is there about which a man in his sound sense could strive more earnestly than to beget the children who shall hereafter nurse his declining years, from the best and most praiseworthy of wives; for they are to be, as it were, the best and most pious preservers of their father and mother, and guardians of the entire family. For it is probable that they will turn out good, if they have been reared uprightly by their parents in the habitual practise of what is just and holy but if the contrary should be the case, they will suffer the loss themselves. For unless parents afford their children a fit pattern of life, they will leave them an obvious excuse to quote against themselves. And this is to be feared, that if they have not lived well, their sons will disregard them, and neglect them in their old age.

On this account nothing is to be omitted which tends to the fit education of a bride, so that the children may be born of the best possible mother. For the husbandman neglects nothing so as to cast his seed upon the richest and best wrought ground, considering that it is from such a soil that he will hereafter reap the fairest fruits; and if any violence threatens, he fights against his enemy, and deliberately chooses to die rather than endure to see it ravaged; and such a disposition as this is praised by most persons. And as such is the care which is spent by us on the support of our bodies, what manner of men ought we to show ourselves on behalf of our children and of the mother that is to rear them? Ought we not most readily to strain every nerve? For in this way alone does the constitution of man's nature, which is mortal, attain to prosperity, and the prayers of parents all tend to this one end. And hence, whoever cares not for this is sure to be regardless of the gods.

It was for the sake of the gods, then, who were present to him when he offered the marriage sacrifice, that he not only took to himself a wife, but also (what is far more) gave himself over to his bride to honor her next to his own parents. But that which is most precious in the eyes of a prudent wife is to see her husband preserving himself entirely for her, thinking of no other woman in comparison with her, and regarding herself, above all other women, as peculiarly his own, and faithful toward him. For in proportion as a wife perceives that she is faithfully and justly cared for, so much the more will she exert her energies to show herself such. Whoever therefore is prudent will not fail to remember with how much honor it becomes him to requite his parents, his wife, and his children, in order that he may gain the name of one who is just and upright in distributing to each their due. For every one is indignant beyond measure at being deprived of that which belongs to himself in a peculiar manner; and there is no one who is content at being deprived of his own property, tho one were to give him plenty of his neighbor's goods. And in very truth nothing is so peculiarly the property of a wife as a chaste and hallowed intercourse.

And hence it would not befit a prudent man to cast his seed wherever chance might take it, lest children should be born to him from a bad and base stock, on an equality with his legitimate sons; and by this the wife is robbed of her conjugal rights, the children are injured, and above all, the husband himself is enveloped in disgrace. He ought therefore to approach his wife with much self-restraint and decency, and to maintain modesty in his words, and in his deeds a regard to what is lawful and honest, and in his intercourse he should be true and discreet. And to little errors, even tho they be voluntary, he ought to vouchsafe pardon; and if she has made any mistake through ignorance, he ought to advise her, and not to inspire her with fear, except such as is accompanied with reverence and respect. For such treatment would be more suited to mistresses at the hands of their gallants. Yet, nevertheless, justly to love her husband with reverence and respect, and to be loved in turn, is that which befits a wife of gentle birth, as to her intercourse with her own husband. For fear is of two kinds; the one kind is reverent and full of respect; such is that which good sons exhibit toward their parents, and well-ordered citizens toward those who rule them in a kindly spirit. But the other kind is attended by hatred and aversion: such is that which slaves feel toward their masters, and citizens toward unjust and lawless tyrants.

Furthermore, the husband ought to choose the best course out of all that we have said above, and so to conciliate his wife to himself, and to make her trustworthy and well disposed, as that whether her husband be present or absent, she will be equally good, while he can turn his attention to public matters: so that even in his absence she may feel that no one is better, nor more suited to herself, nor more nearly bound to her, than her own husband: and that he may always direct his energies to the public good, and show from the very first that such is the case, even tho she may be very young and quite inexperienced in such matters. For if the husband should ever begin such a course of conduct as this, and show himself to be perfect master of himself, he would be the best guide of the entire course of his life, and he would teach his wife to adopt a similar mode of action.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 77: From Book I of the "Economics." Translated by Edward Walford.]

IV

HAPPINESS AS AN END OF HUMAN ACTION[78]

Since we have spoken of the virtues, of the different kinds of friendships, and of pleasures, it remains that we should discuss the subject of happiness in outline, since we assumed this to be the end of human actions. Therefore, if we recapitulate what has been said before, the argument will be more concise.

We have said that it is not a habit; for if it were, it might exist in a man who slept throughout his life, living the life of a plant, and suffering the greatest misfortunes. If, then, this does not please us, but if we must rather bring it under a kind of energy, as was said before; and if, of energies, some are necessary and eligible for the sake of something else, others are eligible for their own sakes; it is plain that we must consider happiness as one of those which are eligible for their own sakes, and not one of those which are eligible for the sake of something else; for happiness is in want of nothing, but is self-sufficient. Now those energies are eligible for their own sakes from which nothing more is sought for beyond the energy. But of this kind, actions done according to virtue seem to be: for the performance of honorable and good acts is among things eligible for their own sakes. And of amusements, those are eligible for their own sakes which are pleasant: for men do not choose these for the sake of anything else: for they are rather injured by them than benefited, since they neglect their persons and property. But the majority of those who are called happy fly to such pastimes as these; and, therefore, those who have a happy turn for such pastimes as these are in favor with tyrants; for they make themselves agreeable in those things which tyrants desire; and such are the men they want.

These things are thought to belong to happiness, because those who are in power pass their leisure in them. But such men are perhaps no proof; for neither virtue nor intellect consists in having power, and from these two good energies proceed; nor if those, who have never tasted pure and liberal pleasure, fly to bodily pleasures, must we therefore think that these pleasures are more eligible; for children think those things which are esteemed by them the best. It is reasonable, therefore, to suppose, that as the things which appear honorable to children and men differ, so also those which appear so to the bad and the good will differ likewise, and therefore, as we have very often said, those things are honorable and pleasant which are so to the good man. But to every man that energy is most eligible which is according to his proper habit; and, therefore, to the good man, that is most eligible which is according to virtue.

Consequently happiness does not consist in amusement; for it is absurd that the end should be amusement; and that men should toil and suffer inconvenience all their life long for the sake of amusement; for we choose everything, as we might say, for the sake of something else, except happiness; for that is an end. But to be serious and to labor for the sake of amusement appears foolish and very childish. But to amuse ourselves in order that we may be serious, as Anacharsis said, seems to be right: for amusement resembles relaxation. Relaxation, therefore, is not the end, for we have recourse to it for the sake of the energy. But the happy life seems to be according to virtue; and this is serious, and does not consist in amusement. We say also that serious things are better than those which are ridiculous and joined with amusement; and that the energy of the better part and of the better man is more serious; and the energy of the better man is at once superior, and more tending to happiness. Besides, any person whatever, even a slave, may enjoy bodily pleasures no less than the best man; but no one allows that a slave partakes of happiness except so far as that he partakes of life: for happiness does not consist in such modes of passing life, but in energies according to virtue, as has been said already.

If happiness be an energy according to virtue, it is reasonable to suppose that it is according to the best virtue; and this must be the virtue of the best part of man. Whether, then, this best part be the intellect, or something else--which is thought naturally to bear rule and to govern, and to possess ideas upon honorable and divine subjects, or whether it is itself divine, or the most divine of any property which we possess; the energy of this part according to its proper virtue must be perfect happiness: and that this energy is contemplative has been stated. This also would seem to agree with what was said before, and with the truth: for this energy is the noblest; since the intellect is the noblest thing within us, and of subjects of knowledge, those are noblest with which the intellect is conversant.

It is also most continuous; for we are better able to contemplate continuously than to do anything else continuously. We think also that pleasure must be united to happiness: but of all the energies according to virtue, that according to wisdom is confessedly the most pleasant: at any rate, wisdom seems to contain pleasures worthy of admiration, both in point of purity and stability: and it is reasonable to suppose that his mode of life should be pleasanter to those who know it than to those who are only seeking it. Again, that which is called self-sufficiency must be most concerned with contemplative happiness; for both the wise man and the just, and all others, need the necessaries of life; but supposing them to be sufficiently supplied with such goods, the just man requires persons toward whom and with whom he may act justly; and in like manner the temperate man, and the brave man, and so on with all the rest. But the wise man, if even by himself, is able to contemplate; and the more so the wiser he is; perhaps he will energize better, if he has cooperators, but nevertheless he is most self-sufficient. This would seem also to be the only energy which is loved for its own sake; for it has no result beyond the act of contemplation; but from the active energies, we gain more or less beyond the performance of the action.

Happiness seems also to consist in leisure; for we are busy in order that we may have leisure; and we go to war in order that we may be at peace. Now the energies of the active virtues are exerted in political or military affairs; and the actions with respect to these are thought to allow of no leisure. Certainly military actions altogether exclude it; for no one chooses war, nor makes preparations for war for the sake of war; for a man would be thought perfectly defiled with blood, if he made his friends enemies in order that there might be battles and massacres. The energy of the statesman is also without leisure; and besides the actual administration of the state, the statesman seeks to gain power and honors, or at least happiness for himself and his fellow citizens, different from the happiness of the state, which we are in search of, clearly as being different.

If, then, of all courses of action which are according to the virtues, those which have to do with politics and war excel in beauty and greatness; and these have no leisure, and aim at some end, and are not chosen for their own sakes; but the energy of the intellect is thought to be superior in intensity, because it is contemplative; and to aim at no end beyond itself, and to have a pleasure properly belonging to it; and if this increases the energy; and if self-sufficiency, and leisure, and freedom from cares (as far as anything human can be free), and everything which is attributed to the happy man, evidently exist in this energy; then this must be the perfect happiness of man, when it attains the end of life complete; for nothing is incomplete of those things which belong to happiness.

But such a life would be better than man could attain to; for he would live thus, not so far forth as he is man, but as there is in him something divine. But so far as this divine part surpasses the whole compound nature, so far does its energy surpass the energy which is according to all other virtue. If, then, the intellect be divine when compared with man, the life also, which is in obedience to that, will be divine when compared with human life. But a man ought not to entertain human thoughts, as some would advise, because he is human, nor mortal thoughts, because he is mortal: but as far as it is possible he should make himself immortal, and do everything with a view to living in accordance with the best principle in him; altho it be small in size, yet in power and value it is far more excellent than all. Besides, this would seem to be each man's "self," if it really is the ruling and the better part. It would be absurd, therefore, if a man were to choose not his own life, but the life of some other thing. And what was said before will apply now; for that which peculiarly belongs to each by nature is best and most pleasant to every one; and consequently to man, the life according to intellect is most pleasant, if intellect especially constitutes Man. This life, therefore, is the most happy.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 78: From Book X of the "Nicomachean Ethics." Translated by R. W. Browne.]

POLYBIUS

Born in Megalopolis in Greece, in 204 B.C.; died about 125; celebrated as an historian; entered the service of the Achæan League; taken to Rome about 169 as a political prisoner, becoming a friend of Scipio the younger; later engaged in settling the affairs of Achaia; went to Egypt in 181 as an ambassador of the Achæan League; of his history of Rome in forty books, five only have been preserved entire.[79]

I

THE BATTLE OF CANNÆ[80]

(216 B.C.)

When the news arrived at Rome that the two armies were face to face, and that skirmishes between advanced parties of both sides were daily taking place, the city was in a state of high excitement and uneasiness; the people dreading the result, owing to the disasters which had now befallen them on more than one occasion; and foreseeing and anticipating in their imaginations what would happen if they were utterly defeated. All the oracles preserved at Rome were in everybody's mouth; and every temple and house was full of prodigies and miracles: in consequence of which the city was one scene of vows, sacrifices, supplicatory processions, and prayers. For the Romans in times of danger take extraordinary pains to appease gods and men, and look upon no ceremony of that kind in such times as unbecoming or beneath their dignity.

When he took over the command on the following day, as soon as the sun was above the horizon, Gaius Terentius[81] got the army in motion from both the camps. Those from the larger camp he drew up in order of battle, as soon as he had got them across the river, and bringing up those of the smaller camp he placed them all in the same line, selecting the south as the aspect of the whole. The Roman horse he stationed on the right wing along the river, and their foot next them in the same line, placing the maniples, however, closer together than usual, and making the depth of each maniple several times greater than its front. The cavalry of the allies he stationed on the left wing, and the light-armed troops he placed slightly in advance of the whole army, which amounted with its allies to eighty thousand infantry and a little more than six thousand horse. At the same time Hannibal brought his Balearic slingers and spearmen across the river, and stationed them in advance of his main body; which he led out of their camp, and, getting them across the river at two spots, drew them up opposite the enemy. On his left wing, close to the river, he stationed the Iberian and Celtic horse opposite the Roman cavalry; and next to them half the Libyan heavy-armed foot; and next to them the Iberian and Celtic foot; next, the other half of the Libyans, and, on the right wing, the Numidian horse. Having now got them all into line, he advanced with the central companies of the Iberians and Celts; and so arranged the other companies next these in regular gradations that the whole line became crescent-shaped, diminishing in depth toward its extremities: his object being to have his Libyans as a reserve in the battle, and to commence the action with his Iberians and Celts.

The armor of the Libyans was Roman, for Hannibal had armed them with a selection of the spoils taken in previous battles. The shield of the Iberians and Celts was about the same size, but their swords were quite different. For that of the Roman can thrust with as deadly effects as it can cut, while the Gallic sword can only cut, and that requires some room. And the companies coming alternately--the naked Celts, and the Iberians with their short linen tunics bordered with purple stripes, the whole appearance of the line was strange and terrifying. The whole strength of the Carthaginian cavalry was ten thousand, but that of their foot was not more than forty thousand, including the Celts. Æmilius[82] commanded on the Roman right, Gaius Terentius on the left, Marcus Atilius and Gnæus Servilius, the Consuls of the previous year, on the center. The left of the Carthaginians was commanded by Hasdrubal,[83] the right by Hanno,[84] the center by Hannibal in person, attended by his brother Mago. And as the Roman line faced the south, as I said before, and the Carthaginian the north, the rays of the rising sun did not inconvenience either of them.