" My nature forces me against my judgement," '
and
" Alas ! it is poor mortals' plague and bane,
To know the good, yet not the good pursue." ^
And again-
" My anger draws me on, has no control,
'Tis but a sandy hook against a tempest."
Here he compares not badly to a sandy hook, a sorry kind
of anchor, the soul that is unsettled and has no steady
reason, but surrenders judgment through flabbiness and
feebleness. And not unlike this image are the lines,
" As some ship moored and fastened to the shore.
If the wind blows, the cables cannot hold it."
By cables he means the judgement which resists what is
disgraceful, though sometimes it gives way under a tre-
mendous storm of passion. For indeed it is with full sail
that the intemperate man is borne on to pleasure by his
desires, and surrenders himself to them, and even plays
the part of pilot to the vessel ; whereas the incontinent
man is dragged sidelong into the disgraceful, and is its vic-
tim, as it were, while he desires eagerly to resist and over-
come his passion, as Timon bantered Anaxarchus : " The
recklessness and frantic energy of Anaxarchus to rush any-
where seemed like a dog's courage, but he being aware of
it was miserable, so people said, but his voluptuous nature
ever plunged him into excesses again, nature which even
^ In the " Chrysippus " of Euripides, Fragra.
^ Compare liomans viii. 19.
108 plutaech's morals,
most sophists are afraid of." For neither is the wise man
continent bnt temperate, nor the fool incontinent but intem-
perate ; for the one delights in what is good, and the other
is not vexed at what is bad. Incontinence, therefore, is a
mark of a sophistical soul, endued with reason which can-
not abide by what it knows to be right.
§ Yii. Such, then, are the differences between inconti-
nence and intemperance, and continence and temperance
have their counterpart and analogous differences ; for re-
morse and trouble and annoyance are companions of con-
tinence, whereas in the soul of the temperate person there
is everywhere such equability and calm and soundness, by
which the unreasoning is adjusted and harmonized to
reason, being adorned with obedience and wonderful mild-
ness, that looking at it you would say with the poet, " At
once the wind was laid, and a wondrous calm ensued, for
the god allayed the fury of the waves," ^ reason having ex-
tinguished the vehement and furious and frantic motions
of the desires, and making those which nature necessarily
requires sympathetic and obedient and friendly and co-
operative in carrying purposes out in action, so that they
do not outrun or come short of reason, or behave disorderly
and disobediently, but that every appetite is tractable, " as
sucking foal runs by the side of its dam."^ And this con-
firms the saying of Xenocrates about true philosophers,
that tliey alone do w^illingly what all others do unwillingly
at the compulsion of the law, as dogs are turned away from
their pleasures by a blow, or cats by a noise, looking at
nothing but their danger. It is clear then that there is
in the soul a perception of such a generic and specific
difference in relation to the desires, as of something fight-
ing against and opposing them. But some say that there
is no radical distinction difference or variance between
reason and passion, but that there is a shifting of one and
the same reason from one to the other, which escapes our
notice owing to the sharpness and quickness of the change,
so that we do not see at a glance that desire and repent-
ance, anger and fear, giving way to what is disgraceful
' " Odyssey," xii. 168, 169.
â– â– ^ This line is from Simonides, and is quoted sgain in " How one may
b? aware of one's Progress in Virtue," $ xiv.
ON MORAL YIRTUE. lOJ)
through passion, and recovery from the same, are the same
natural property of the soul. For desire and fear and
anger and the like they consider only depraved opinions
and judgements, not in one portion of the soul only but in
all its leading principles, inclinations and yieldings, and
assents and impulses, and generally speaking in its energies
soon changed, like the sallies of children, whose fury and
excessive violence is unstable by reason of their weakness.
But these views are, in the first place, contrary to evidence
and observation ; for no one observes in himself a change
from passion to judgement, and from judgement back to
passion ; nor does anyone cease from loving when he reflects
that it would be well to break the affair olf and strive with
all his might against it ; nor again, does he put on one side
reflection and judgement, when he gives way and is over-
come by desire. Moreover, when he resists passion by
reason, he does not escape passion altogether ; nor again,
when he is mastered by passion does he fail to discern his
fault through reason : so that neither by passion does he
abolish reason, nor does he by reason get rid of passion, but
is tossed about to and fro alternately between passion and
reason. And those who suppose that the leading principle
in the soul is at one time desire, and at another time reason
in opposition to desire, are not unlike people who would
make the hunter and the animal he hunts one and the same
person, but alternately changing from hunter to animal,
from animal to hunter. As their eyesight is plainly defi-
cient, so these are faulty in regard to their perceptions,
seeing that they must perceive in themselves not a change
of one and the same thing, but a diiference and struggle
between two opposing elements. " What then," say they,
" does not the deliberative element in a man often hold
different views, and is it not swayed to different opinions as
to expediency, and yet it is one and the same thing?"
Certainly, I reply ; but the case is not similar. For the
rational part of the soul does not fight against itself, but
though it has only one faculty, it makes use of different
reasonings ; or rather the reasoning is one, but employs
itself in different subjects as on different matter. And so
there is neither pain in reasonings without passion, nor are
men compelled, as it were, to choose something contrary to
110 Plutarch's morals.
tlieir judgement, unless indeed some passion, as in a balance,
secretly predominates in the scale. For this often happens,
reason not opposing reason, but ambition, or contention, or
favour, or jealousy, or fear opposing reason, that we do but
think there is a difference between two reasons, as in the line,
" They were ashamed to refuse, and feared to accept,"^ or,
*' To die in battle is dreadful but glorious ; but not to die,
though cowardly, is more pleasant." Moreover, in judge-
ments about contracts passions come in and cause the
greatest delay ; and in the councils of kings those who
speak to ingratiate themselves do not favour either of the
two cases, but give themselves up to passion without re-
gard to what is expedient ; and so those that rule in aris-
tocracies do not allow orators to be pathetic in their plead-
ings. For reasoning without passion has a direct tendency
to justice, while if passion is infused, a contest and diffe-
rence is excited between pleasure and pain on the one hand,
and judgement and justice on the other. For otherwise
how is it that in philosophical speculations people are
with little pain frequently induced by others to change
their opinions, and even Aristotle himself and Democritus
and Chrysippus have rejected without trouble or pain, and
even with pleasure, some of the opinions which they for-
merly advocated ? For no passion stands in the way in
the theoretic and scientific part of the soul, and the un-
reasoning element is quiet and gives no trouble therein.
And so reason gladly inclines to the truth, when it is
evident, and abandons error; for in it, and not in passion,
lies a willingness to listen to conviction and to change
one's opinions on conviction. But the deliberations and
judgements and arbitrations of most people as to matters of
fact being mixed up with passion, give reason no easy or
pleasant access, as she is held fast and incommoded by the
unreasonable, which assails her through pleasure, or fear,
or pain, or desire. And the decision in these cases lies
with sense which has dealings with both passion and
reason, for if one gets the better of the other the other is
not destroyed, but only dragged along by force in spite of
its resistance. For he who is dissatisfied with himself for
' « Iliad," vii. 93.
ON MORAL YIRTUE. Ill
falling in love calls in reason to his aid to overcome his
passion, for both reason and passion are in his soul, and he
perceives thej are contrary one to the other, and violently
represses the inflammatory one of the two. On the other
Land, in deliberations and speculations without passion
(such as the contemplative part of the soul is most con-
versant with), if they are eveidy balanced no decision takes
place, but the matter is left in doubt, which is a sort of
stationary position of the mind in conflicting arguments.
But should there be any inclination to one of the two sides,
the most powerful opinion carries the day, yet without giv-
ing pain or creating hostility. And, generally speaking,
when reason seems opposed to reason, there is no percep-
tion of two distinct things, but only of one under different
phases, whereas when the unreasoning has a controversy
with reason, since there can be no victory or defeat with-
out pain, forthwith they tear the soul in two,^ and make the
difference between them apparent.
§ VIII. And not only from their contest, but quite as
much from their agreement, can we see that the source of
the passions is something quite distinct from that of reason.
For since ^ one may love either a good and excellent child
or a bad and vicious one, and be unreasonably angry with
one's children or parents, yet in behalf of them show a just
anger against enemies or tyrants ; as in the one case there
is the perception of a difference and struggle between pas-
sion and reason, so in the other there is a perception of
persuasion and agreement inclining, as it were, the scale, and
giving their help. Moreover a good man marrying a wife
according to the laws is minded to associate and live with
her justly and soberly, but as time goes on, his intercourse
with her having engendered a strong passion for her, he
perceives that his love and affection are increased by reason.
Just so, again, young fellows falling in with kindly teachers
at first submit themselves to them out of necessity and
emulation for learning, but end by loving them, and instead
of being their pupils and scholars become and get the titleof
their lovers. The same is the case in cities in respect to good
Reading with Reiske, sig 5vo.
Reading tTrel with Reiske and Wyttenbach.
11*2 Plutarch's morals.
magistrates, and neighbours, and connections by marriage ;
for beginning at first to associate with one another from
necessity and propriety, they afterwards go on to love
almost insensibly, reason drawing over and persuading the
emotional element. And he who said —
" There are two kinds of shame, the one not bad.
The other a sad burden to a family," ^
is it not clear that he felt this emotion in himself often
contrary to reason and detrimental by hesitation and delay
to opportunities and actions ?
§ IX. In a certain sense yielding to the force of these
arguments, they call shame modesty, pleasure joy, and
timidity caution ; nor would anyone blame them for this
euphemism, if they only gave those specious names to the
emotions that are consistent with reason, while they gave
other kinds of names to those emotions that resist and do
violence to reason. But whenever, though convicted by
their tears and tremblings and changes of colour, they avoid
the terms pain and fear, and speak of bitings and states of
excitement, and gloss over the passions by calling them
inclinations, they seem to contrive evasions and flights from
facts by names sophistical, and not philosophical. And
yet again they seem to use words rightly when they call
those joys and wishes and cautions not apathies but good
conditions of the mind. For it is a happy disposition of
the soul when reason does not annihilate passion, but orders
and arranges it in the case of temperate persons. But what
is the condition of worthless and incontinent persons, who,
when they judge they ought to love their father and
mother better than some boy or girl they are enamoured
of, yet cannot, and yet at once love their mistress or flat-
terer, when they judge they ought to hate them ? For if
passion and judgement were the same thing, love and hate
would immediately follow the judging it right to love and
hate, whereas the contrary happens, passion following some
judgements, but declining to follow others. Wherefore
they acknowledge, the facts compelling them to do so, that
every judgement is not passion, but only that judgement
that is provocative of violent and excessive impulse : ad-
1 Euripides, " Hippolytus," 385, 386.
ON MORAL VIRTUE.
113
mitting that judgement and passion in us are something
different, as what moves is different from what is moved.
Even Chrysippus himself, by his defining in many places
endurance and continence to be habits that follow the lead
of reason, proves that he is compelled by the facts to admit,
that that element in us which follows absolutely is some-
thing different from that which follows when persuaded,
but resists when not persuaded.
§ X. ISTow as to those who make all sins and offences
equal, it is not now the occasion to discuss if in other
respects they deviate from truth : but as regards the pas-
sions ^ they seem to go clean contrary to reason and evi-
dence. For according to them every passion is a sin, and
everyone who grieves, or fears, or desires, commits sin.
Bub in good truth it is evident that there are great diffe-
rences between passions, according as one is more or less
affected by them. For who would say that the craven
fear of Dolon^ was not something very different from the
fear of Ajax, " who retreated with his face to the enemy and
at a foot's pace, drawing back slowly knee after knee " ? ^
Or who would say that the grief of Plato at the death of
Socrates was identical with the grief of Alexander at the
death of Clitus, when he attempted to lay violent hands on
himself ? For grief is beyond measure intensified by falling
out against expectation : and the calamity that comes un-
locked for is more painful than that we may reasonably fear :
as if when expecting to see one's friend basking in pros-
perity and admiration, one should hear that he had been put
to the torture, as Parmenio heard about Philotas. And who
would say that the anger of Magas against Philemon was
equal to that of Nicocreon against Anaxarchus ? Both
Magas and Nicocreon had been insulted, but whereas
Nicocreon brayed Anaxarchus to death with iron pestles
and made mincemeat of him, Magas contented himself with
bidding the executioner lay his naked sword on Philemon's
neck, and then let him go.* And so Plato called anger the
^ Reading with Reiske irdQiai for TrXeiotri.
2 See " Iliad," x. 374, sq. ^ u i]iad," xi. 547.
* '• De Anaxarchi supplicio nota res. v. Menage ad Diog. Laert. 9, 59.
De Magae, reguli Cyrenarum, adAersus Philemonem lenitate v. De
Cohibenda Ira, § ix." — Reiske.
114 Plutarch's morals.
nerves of the mind, since it can be both intensified by
bitterness, and slackened bj mildness. To evade these
and similar arguments, they deny that intensity and excess
of passion are according to judgement, wherein is the pro-
pensity to fault, but maintain that they are bites and con-
tractions and diffusings capable of increase or diminution
through the unreasoning element. And yet it is evident
that there are differences as regards judgements ; for some
judge poverty to be no evil, while others judge it to be a
great evil, and others again the very greatest evil, insomuch
that they even throw themselves headlong down rocks and
into the sea on account of it. Again as to death, some think
it an evil only in depriving us of good things, whereas
others think it so in regard to eternal punishments and
awful torments in the world below. Health again is valued
by some as natural and advantageous, while to others it
seems the greatest blessing of life, in comparison with
which they reckon little either of wealth or children or
" royal power that makes one equal to the gods," and at last
come to think even virtue useless and unprofitable, if health
be absent. Thus it is clear that even with regard to judge-
ments themselves some err more, some less. But I shall
bring no further proof of this now, but this one may assume
therefrom, that they themselves concede that the unreason-
ing element is something different from judgement, in that
they allow that by it passion becomes greater and more
violent, and while they quarrel about the name and word
they give up the thing itself to those who maintain that
the emotional and unreasoning part of the soul is distinct
from the reasoning and judging element. And in his
treatise on Anomaly,^ Chrysippus, after telling us that
anger is blind, and frequently does not let one see what is
obvious, frequently also obscures what we do get a sight
of, goes on to say, " The encroachment of the passions blots
out reason, and makes things look different to what they
should look, violently forcing people on unreasonable acts."
And he quotes as witness Menander, who says, " Alas !
' "Celebres fuere quondam Chrysippi sex libri Trepl TtJQ Kara tclq Xrj^eig
dvojfiaXiag, in quibus auctore Varrone, propositum habuit ostendere,
similes res dissimilihus verbis et similibus dissimiles esse notatas vooabulis.
V. Menage ad Diog. Laert. 7, 192." — Beiske.
ON MORAL VIRTUE. 115
poor me, wherever were my brains in my body at the time
when I chose that line of conduct, and not this ? " And
Chrysippus proceeds, " Though every living creature en-
dowed with reason is naturally inclined to use reason and
to be governed by it on every occasion, yet often do we
reject it, being borne away by a more violent impulse ; "
thus admitting what results from the difference between
passion and reason. For otherwise it is ridiculous, as
Plato says, to argue that a man is sometimes better than
himself, sometimes worse, sometimes master of himself,
sometimes not master of himself.
§ XI. For how is it possible that the same person can be
both better and worse than himself, both master of himself
and not master, unless everyone is in some way twofold,
having in himself both a better and worse self ? For so he
that makes the baser element subject to the better has self-
control and is a superior man, whereas he who allows the
nobler element of the soul to follow and be subservient to
the incorrigible and unreasoning element, is inferior to
what he might be, and is called incontinent, and is in an
unnatural condition. For by nature it appertains to reason,
which is divine, to rule and govern the unreasoning ele-
ment, which has its origin from the body, which it also
naturally resembles and participates in its passions, being
placed in it and mixed up with it, as is proved by the im-
pulses to bodily delights, which are always fierce or languid
according to the changes of the body. And so it is that
young men are keen and vehement in their desires, being
red hot and raging from their fulness of blood and animal
heat, whereas with old men the liver, which is the seat of
desire, is dried up and weak and feeble, and reason has more
power with them than passion which decays with the body.
This principle also no doubt characterizes the nature of
animals as regards the sexual appetite. For it is not of
course from any fitness or unfitness of opinions, that some
animals are so bold and resolute in the presence of danger,
while others are helpless and full of fear and trembling ; but
this difference of emotion is produced by the workings of the
blood and spirit and body, the emotional part growing out
of the flesh, as from a root, and carrying along with it its
quality and temperament. And that the body of man
116 Plutarch's morals.
sympatlaizes with and is affected bj the emotional impulses
is proved by pallors, and blushings, and tremblings, and
palpitations of the heart, as on the other hand by an all-
pervading joy in the hope and expectation of pleasures.
But whenever the mind is by itself and unmoved by pas-
sion, the body is in repose and at rest, having no partici-
pation or share in the working of the intellect, unless it
involve the emotional, or the unreasoning element call it
in. So that it is clear that there are two distinct parts of
the soul differing from one another in their faculties.
§ XII. And generally speaking of all existing things, as
they themselves admit and is clear, some are governed by
nature, some by habit, some by an unreasoning soul, some
by a soul that has reason and intelligence. Man too par-
ticipates in all this, and is subject to all those differences
here mentioned, for he is affected by habit, and nourished by-
nature, and uses reason and intelligence. He has also a
share of the unreasoning element, and has the principle of
passion innate in him, not as a mere episode in his life but
as a necessity, which ought not therefore to be entirely
rooted out, but requires care and attention. For the
function of reason is no Thracian or Lycurgean one to root
up and destroy all the good elements in passion indis-
criminately with the bad, but, as some genial and mild
god, to prune what is wild, and to correct disproportion,
and after that to train and cultivate the useful part. For
as those who are afraid to get drunk do not pour on the
ground their wine, hut mix it ivith water, so those who are
afraid of the disturbing element in passion do not eradicate
passion altogether but temper it. Similarly with oxen and
horses people try to restrain their mad bounds and restive-
ness, not their movements and powers of work, and so
reason makes use of the passions when they have become
tame and docile, not by cutting out the sinews or altogether
mutilating the serviceable part of the soul. For as Pindar
says, " The horse to the chariot, and the ox to the plough,
while he that meditates destruction for the boar must find a
staunch hound." ^ But much more useful than these are
the whole tribe of passions when they wait on reason and
' Compare " On Contentedness of Mind,"' § xiii.
ON MORAL YIRTUE. ]17
run parallel to virttie. Thus moderate anger is useful to
courage, and hatred of evil to uprightness, and righteous
indignation against those who are fortunate beyond their
deserts, when they are inflamed in their souls with folly
and insolence and need a check. And no one if they wished
could pluck away or sever ^ natural affection from friend-
ship, or pity from philanthropy, or sympathy both in joy
and grief from genuine good- will. And if those err who
wish to banish love because of erotic madness, neither are
they right who blame all desire because of love of money,
but they act like people who refuse to run because they
might stumble, or to throw because they might throw wide
of the mark, or object to sing altogether because they might
make a false note. For as in sounds music does not create
melody by the banishment of sharps and flats, and as in
bodies the art of the physician procures health not by the
doing away of cold and heat but by their being blended in
due proportions and quantities, so is victory won in the
soul by the powers and motions of the passions being
reduced by reason to moderation and due proportion. For
excessive grief or fear or joy in the soul (I speak not of mere
joy grief or fear), resembles a body swollen or inflamed.
And Homer when he says excellently,
" The brave man's colour never changes, nor
Is he much frightened," ^
does not take away all fear but only excessive fear, that
bravery may not become recklessness, nor confidence fool-
hardiness. So also in regard to pleasure we must do away
with excessive desire, and in regard to vengeance with
excessive hatred of evil. For so in the former case one
will not be apathetic but temperate, and in the latter one
will not be savage or cruel but just. But if the passions
were entirely removed, supposing that to be possible,
reason would become in many duller and blunter, like the
pilot in the absence of a storm. And no doubt it is from
having noticed this that legislators try to excite in states