Barlaam of Seminara on Stoic Ethics: Text, Translation, and Interpretative Essays 9783161595271, 9783161615641, 3161595270

Table of contents :
Cover
Title
Preface
Contents
Abbreviations
Introduction
1. Barlaam of Seminara
Southern Italy
Constantinople
Debates with Dominicans
The Hesychast Controversy
Diplomacy and Expulsion
Naples and Avignon
Gerace
2. The Ethica secundum Stoicos
The Text of ESS
Authorship
Sources
The Plan of the Work
I. Text and Translation
Note on the Text
Table of Chapter Headings
Text
Translation
II. Interpretative Essays
The Role of Bodily and External Goods for Happiness in Book 1 (Charles R. Hogg Jr.)
1. Introduction
2. Aristotle on External Goods and Happiness
3. Aristotle on Virtue, Emotions, and External Goods
4. Aristotle: Some Critical Comments
5. Barlaam on External Goods and Happiness
6. The Stoic Definition is Demonstrated (ESS 1.2–14)
7. The Peripatetic Definition is Refuted (ESS 1.15–25)
8. The Place of Advantages in the Happy Life (ESS 1.26–29)
9. Conclusion: Some Critical Thoughts
The Stoic Theory of Emotions in Book 2 (John Sellars)
1. The Stoic Soul (ESS 2.1)
2. Three Mental Traits (ESS 2.2)
3. Varieties of Will (ESS 2.3–4)
4. An Eightfold Division of Mental States (ESS 2.5–9)
5. The Standard Stoic Account of Emotions (ESS 2.10–11)
6. Two Fourfold Accounts Combined (ESS 2.11)
7. Constantia and εὐπάθειαι (ESS 2.12)
8. The Full Account (ESS 2.13)
9. Comments on Theophrastus (ESS 2.13–14)
10. Overcoming Emotional Disturbances (ESS 2.15–16)
The Reception of Stoic Ethics in the Middle Ages (John Sellars)
1. Stoic Ethics in Late Antiquity
2. Stoicism in Byzantium
3. The Latin Middle Ages
4. The Twelfth Century: Peter Abelard and William of Conches
5. The Thirteenth Century: Roger Bacon and Thomas Aquinas
6. The Fourteenth Century: Jean Buridan
7. Petrarch and Stoic Ethics
Bibliography
Indexes
Index of Greek and Latin Words
Index of Passages
Index of Subjects and Names

Citation preview

Barlaam of Seminara on Stoic Ethics

Bayerische Staatsbibliothek München, Clm 111, fol. 341r. Reproduced with permission.

Barlaam of Seminara on Stoic Ethics Text, Translation, and Interpretative Essays Edited by Charles R. Hogg Jr. and John Sellars

Mohr Siebeck

Charles R. Hogg Jr, born 1956; Senior Affiliate Professor, Grand Valley State University, Allendale (MI). John Sellars, born 1971; Reader in Philosophy at Royal Holloway, University of London. orcid.org/0000-0002-2041-8549

ISBN 978-3-16-159527-1 / eISBN 978-3-16-161564-1 DOI 10.1628/978-3-16-161564-1 The Deutsche Nationalbibliothek lists this publication in the Deutsche Nationalbibliographie; detailed bibliographic data are available at http://dnb.dnb.de. © 2022  Mohr Siebeck Tübingen, Germany.  www.mohrsiebeck.com This book may not be reproduced, in whole or in part, in any form (beyond that permitted by copyright law) without the publisher’s written permission. This applies particularly to reproductions, translations and storage and processing in electronic systems. The book was printed on non-aging paper by Laupp & Göbel in Gomaringen and bound by Nädele in Nehren. Printed in Germany.



Preface This volume contains the first modern edition and first translation into English (or any language, so far as we know) of Barlaam of Seminara’s Ethica secundum Stoicos (ESS). This text, dating from the first half of the fourteenth century, is the oldest work on Stoic philosophy written after antiquity that we have and so it is of particular interest for the history of the reception of Stoicism. Barlaam of Seminara (or Calabria) is also a fascinating figure in his own right, working within the context of the Byzantine Palaiologan Renaissance, the early moments of the Italian Renaissance, and the rediscovery of Greek philosophy in the West. The origins of the present book date back to 1997 when Charles R. Hogg submitted an edition, translation, and study of the ESS as his doctoral thesis to Indiana University. Some years later, John Sellars, who was working on the reception of Stoicism, had become curious about this work and secured a copy of Hogg’s thesis. In time, Sellars and Hogg made contact and a plan was hatched to find a way of publishing the text and translation, along with interpretative essays that would examine the text in detail. The present volume is the result. What follows does not claim to offer the last word on Barlaam; on the contrary, it is the first word, so to speak, and it is hoped that it will prompt others to explore this fascinating text further. A quick note on the division of labour. The Introduction is a joint effort: the first half on Barlaam is by Sellars; the second half on the text is primarily by Hogg (the section on sources is by Sellars). The Latin text and translation are by Hogg, as is the first interpretative essay on Book 1. The second and third interpretative essays on Book 2 and Stoic ethics in the Middle Ages are by Sellars. We both thank Mohr Siebeck for welcoming this volume into their list. We also thank the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek in Munich for permission to reproduce the image used as the frontispiece and Dawn Sellars for assistance in the final preparation of our manuscript. 5 January 2022

Charles R. Hogg

John Sellars



Contents Preface ........................................................................................................... V Contents ....................................................................................................... VII Abbreviations ................................................................................................ X

Introduction................................................................................................. 1 1. Barlaam of Seminara ............................................................................. 2 Southern Italy ......................................................................................... 2 Constantinople ....................................................................................... 3 Debates with Dominicans ...................................................................... 5 The Hesychast Controversy ................................................................... 9 Diplomacy and Expulsion .................................................................... 11 Naples and Avignon ............................................................................. 12 Gerace .................................................................................................. 15 2. The Ethica secundum Stoicos ............................................................... 16 The Text of ESS ................................................................................... 16 Authorship ........................................................................................... 17 Sources ................................................................................................. 20 The Plan of the Work ........................................................................... 24

I. Text and Translation Note on the Text ........................................................................................... 28 Table of Chapter Headings ........................................................................... 30 Text............................................................................................................... 34 Translation .................................................................................................... 63

VIII

Contents

II. Interpretative Essays The Role of Bodily and External Goods for Happiness in Book 1 (Charles R. Hogg Jr.) ................................................................................... 95 1. Introduction .......................................................................................... 95 2. Aristotle on External Goods and Happiness ....................................... 104 3. Aristotle on Virtue, Emotions, and External Goods ........................... 121 4. Aristotle: Some Critical Comments .................................................... 127 5. Barlaam on External Goods and Happiness ........................................ 129 6. The Stoic Definition is Demonstrated (ESS 1.2–14) ........................... 133 7. The Peripatetic Definition is Refuted (ESS 1.15–25) ......................... 144 8. The Place of Advantages in the Happy Life (ESS 1.26–29) ............... 156 9. Conclusion: Some Critical Thoughts .................................................. 159

The Stoic Theory of Emotions in Book 2 (John Sellars)................ 165 1. The Stoic Soul (ESS 2.1) .................................................................... 166 2. Three Mental Traits (ESS 2.2) ............................................................ 168 3. Varieties of Will (ESS 2.3–4) ............................................................. 170 4. An Eightfold Division of Mental States (ESS 2.5–9) .......................... 171 5. The Standard Stoic Account of Emotions (ESS 2.10–11) ................... 176 6. Two Fourfold Accounts Combined (ESS 2.11)................................... 178 7. Constantia and εὐπάθειαι (ESS 2.12) ................................................. 181 8. The Full Account (ESS 2.13) .............................................................. 185 9. Comments on Theophrastus (ESS 2.13–14) ........................................ 186 10. Overcoming Emotional Disturbances (ESS 2.15–16) ....................... 189

The Reception of Stoic Ethics in the Middle Ages (John Sellars)191 1. Stoic Ethics in Late Antiquity ............................................................ 191 2. Stoicism in Byzantium ....................................................................... 195 3. The Latin Middle Ages ....................................................................... 196 4. The Twelfth Century: Peter Abelard and William of Conches ........... 197 5. The Thirteenth Century: Roger Bacon and Thomas Aquinas ............. 199 6. The Fourteenth Century: Jean Buridan ............................................... 201 7. Petrarch and Stoic Ethics .................................................................... 202 Bibliography ............................................................................................... 207 Indexes........................................................................................................ 217 Index of Greek and Latin Words ............................................................ 217 Index of Passages ................................................................................... 219 Index of Subjects and Names ................................................................. 227



Abbreviations Abbreviations of titles of works are explained in the Index of Passages at the end of the volume. Abbreviations used in the apparatus to the Latin text are explained in the Note on the Text, 28–29. Note also the following: FHSG

Fortenbaugh, W. W., Huby, P. M., Sharples, R. W., and Gutas, D. Theophrastus of Eresus: Sources for his Life, Writings, Thought, and Influence. 2 vols. Leiden: Brill, 1992.

LCL

Loeb Classical Library

LS

Long, A. A, and Sedley, D. N. The Hellenistic Philosophers. 2 vols. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987.

OCT

Oxford Classical Text

OLD

Oxford Latin Dictionary, ed. P. G. W. Glare. Second Edition. 2 vols. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012.

PG

Patrologiae cursus completus ... series Graeca, ed. J.-P. Migne. 161 vols. Paris: Migne, 1857–1866.

PL

Patrologiae cursus completus ... series Latina, ed. J.-P. Migne. 220 vols. Paris: Migne, 1844–1863.

SVF

Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta, ed. H. von Arnim. 4 vols. Leipzig: Teubner, 1903–1924.

WH

Wachsmuth, C., and Hense, O. Ioannis Stobaei Anthologium. 5 vols. Berlin: Weidmann, 1884–1912. Cited by volume, page, and line numbers.

Introduction This volume contains the text of Barlaam of Seminara’s Ethica secundum Stoicos, along with a translation, and a set of interpretative essays. The Ethica secundum Stoicos (ESS) is a little-known text, rarely mentioned in the scholarly literature on Stoicism. It survives in a single manuscript, now in Munich, and was first printed in 1604 alongside some of Barlaam’s letters. It was reprinted in 1725 and, again, in 1865 within Migne’s Patrologia Graeca.1 There it has remained, in plain sight, attracting little, if any, attention.2 Its author, Barlaam of Seminara (alt. Barlaam of Calabria),3 usually features in accounts of Byzantine philosophy and, in particular, Byzantine theology but he can hardly be said to be widely known.4 Historians of classical scholarship often name him as the person who attempted – unsuccessfully – to teach Petrarch how to read Greek.5 His interactions with both Petrarch and Boccaccio have earned him a small place in the history of the beginnings of the Renaissance. Among Byzantinists he is remembered primarily for his part in the Hesychast controversy during which he came into conflict with Gregory Palamas. His interests were much broader than just theology, however, and he also wrote on mathematics, astronomy, logic, and philosophy.6 Barlaam also wrote the ESS, although this has not been universally accepted. We shall address the question of authorship further below. Whether Barlaam wrote it or not, though, the ESS is a fascinating text that occupies a special

Canisius 1601–1604, vi, 79–110; Basnage 1725, iv, 405–422; Migne, PG cli, cols 1341– 1364. 2 One of the few discussions of its contents can be found in Mandalari 1888, 73–77. 3 ‘Seminara’ is the standard spelling of the place name and the most usual spelling in the scholarly literature (see e.g. Mogenet and Tihon 1977; Carelos 1996), but it is sometimes written as ‘Seminaria’ (e.g. Meyendorff 1964, 42). Indeed, it is given as ‘Seminaria’ in the title of the Munich manuscript of ESS. 4 See e.g. Tatakis 1949, 263–266 (tr. 2003, 218–221); De Libera 1993, 41–44. 5 See e.g. Sandys 1903–1908, ii, 8; Highet 1949, 84; Reynolds and Wilson 1968, 122; Pfeiffer 1976, 14; Hunt et al. 2017, 157; Wilson 2017, 2. 6 For lists of Barlaam’s works, see Sinkewicz 1981, 185–194; Carelos 1996, xxv–xxvi. As Sinkewicz 1981, 152, notes, Barlaam was often described by Byzantine sources as a philosopher. Works not explicitly discussed below include two treatises on solar eclipses (in Mogenet and Tihon 1977), a discussion of Ptolemy’s Harmonics, and works on arithmetic and the square root. 1

2

Introduction

place in the history of the reception of Stoicism, for it is the oldest extant text devoted to Stoic philosophy since antiquity.7 Not only that, it reports a novel account of the Stoic theory of emotions, unattested in any of our other sources, which it claims is derived from the books of the Stoics themselves. For these two reasons, it deserves to be far better known than it is. We hope that this volume will contribute to making the text more readily available and accessible to readers with an interest in Stoic ethics and the history of the reception of Stoicism.

1. Barlaam of Seminara In this section we offer a brief biography of Barlaam and an outline of his varied intellectual activities.8 This does not pretend to be a complete or definitive account, but simply aims to put the ESS into the wider context of his life and works. Southern Italy Barlaam was born in Seminara, a town in Calabria in southern Italy, at some time around 1290.9 Calabria is sometimes referred to as the ‘toe’ of the ‘boot’ of Italy, close to Sicily. The southern part of Italy had long been Greek speaking. In antiquity it was known as ‘Magna Graecia’ and was home to philosophers such as Pythagoras, Parmenides, and Empedocles. The region remained Greek speaking in the Middle Ages, possibly repopulated by Greek emigrés in late antiquity.10 Slav invasions of Greece and the Arabic conquest of Greekspeaking territories in the eastern Mediterranean, including Alexandria, may have displaced local populations; one medieval source reports that en masse “the city of Patras emigrated to the territory of Rhegium in Calabria”.11 The region was also part of the Byzantine Empire from the sixth to the eleventh century, at which point it came under control of the Normans. But Greek language and culture remained firmly ingrained and it was widely known throughout Europe as a Greek-speaking region. Writing in the 1270s, not long before Barlaam was born, Roger Bacon advised readers of his Compendium studii philosophiae keen to learn Greek to “go to Italy in many parts of which the

As such, it receives a brief mention in Spanneut 1973, 187. 8 The foundational modern biographies of Barlaam, on which many subsequent accounts draw, are Mandalari 1888 and Lo Parco 1905. Particularly valuable are three more recent articles by Robert Sinkewicz, 1980, 1981, 1982. Briefer useful overviews in English include Setton 1956, 40–45; Demetracopoulos 2017; Trizio 2017. 9 On his date of birth, see Mandalari 1888, 27. 10 See the discussions in Tozer 1889; Charanis 1946; also Mandalari 1888, 3–24. 11 This comes from the Chronicle of Monemvasia, cited in Charanis 1946, 84. 7

Introduction

3

clerics and the people are native Greeks”.12 In 1300 there were numerous Greek bishops in the region and around twenty-five Greek monasteries.13 It is likely, then, that Barlaam was a native Greek speaker and was brought up within the Orthodox Church.14 There is little information about Barlaam’s early life, except that as a young man he became a monk at the Basilian monastery of St Elias located in Galatro, just over twenty miles from Seminara.15 Given his wide intellectual interests spanning well beyond theology to include philosophy, mathematics, and astronomy, it has been suggested that Barlaam may have also spent time in some other school or schools in Italy.16 But the truth is that we know almost nothing about the first half of his life spent in Italy. What we do know is that around 1325 he headed east, first to Arta and Thessaloniki, finally arriving in Constantinople around 1330.17 Constantinople At the time when Barlaam headed for Constantinople, it was in the middle of what has been labelled the ‘Palaiologan Renaissance’.18 This was a period of cultural reassertion that took place in the aftermath of the fourth crusade, during which the city of Constantinople fell to Latin invaders in 1204. After this cataclysmic event, the Byzantine government continued in exile in Asia Minor, retaking Constantinople in 1261 under the leadership of Michael VIII Palaiologos. The Byzantine state was inevitably weakened by the experience and its empire was significantly reduced in extent. Whether consciously or not, Byzantium under the Palaiologans made up for this loss of political power by

Roger Bacon, Compendium studii philosophiae 6.87; text and translation in Maloney 2018, 86–87. 13 See Loud 2016, 144. 14 D’Agostino 2001, 73, suggests that Barlaam was entirely Greek in culture. Others have argued that he possessed a distinctively Western attitude (e.g. Ierodiakonou 2002, 226). The latter view has perhaps in part been shaped by the polemics of Nikephoros Gregoras, who presented Barlaam in a number of his works as an outsider with very bad Greek (see e.g. Gregoras’ Byz. hist. 11.10 [PG cxlviii, 760–761] and the comments in Mariev 2016, 101). Similarly, O’Meara 2017, 180, claims that Barlaam was “well educated in Latin philosophy and theology, and enthusiastically appropriated the philosophical culture of Byzantium”. 15 See Trizio 2017. 16 See Mogenet and Tihon 1977, 149. Barlaam’s knowledge of mathematics and astronomy might suggest an education covering the four numerical arts of the quadrivium. This was also an established part of Byzantine higher education, on which see Constantinides 1982. 17 See Sinkewicz 1982, 184; also Mogenet and Tihon 1977, 149; Demetracopoulos 2017. 18 For a defence of this term see Fryde 2000, 11–13, and for some doubts see Ševčenko 2002, 284. Alongside these two works, note also Runciman 1970. The term is also discussed in Bazzani 2006. 12

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Introduction

reasserting the value of Greek culture and learning, perhaps with a renewed awareness of how easily it might be lost, as indeed much was during the period of occupation. There appears to have been a concerted effort to copy manuscripts in order to ensure the survival of texts and there was a flourishing of intellectual activity. The Patriarchal school in Constantinople – the main centre for both theological and secular higher education – was re-established and became a centre for the study of philosophy, science, and philology.19 Among the significant intellectuals active in the early part of this period one might note George Pachymeres (1242–1310) and Maximos Planoudes (1260– 1310), both of whom had died when Barlaam was a young man and before he reached Constantinople. Pachymeres wrote works drawing on Aristotle and Pseudo-Dionysius. Planoudes mastered Latin and translated works by Cicero, Boethius, Augustine, and Thomas Aquinas into Greek, as well as making significant contributions to mathematics.20 In the next generation the figure of Theodore Metochites (1270–1332) stands out.21 He had wide intellectual interests, including astronomy, literature, and philosophy. He became a member of the imperial court, amassed a significant fortune and a substantial library. He also used his fortune to pay for the restoration of the church at the monastery of Chora, close to his own palace. Among the many mosaics that he commissioned (and survive today) is a portrait of himself offering the monastery to Christ. One of his most interesting works in the present context is his On Morals, or Concerning Education (᾽Ηθικὸς ἢ περὶ παιδείας), a treatise inspired by the Greek philosophical tradition that extols the value of education, virtue, and wisdom as antidotes to adversity and the vicissitudes of fortune.22 Among the many ancient points of reference, a number of Stoic influences have been noted in this work.23 After a turbulent political career which included a period of exile, Metochites spent the last couple of years of his life in the Chora monastery and died in 1332, just after Barlaam had arrived in Constantinople.

On higher education in Byzantium in this period, see Constantinides 1982, esp. 50–65. On the teaching of philosophy in particular, see ibid. 113–132. 20 On Planoudes’ translations from Latin to Greek, see Appendix B ‘Medieval Translations’ in Pasnau 2010, ii, 793–832, esp. 793–796, 799, 800–801, 824. One might also note that, in the other direction, Barlaam’s contemporary from Calabria, Nicholas of Reggio, translated works by Galen into Latin in the early fourteenth century. Earlier, in the 1260s and 1270s, William of Moerbeke had of course translated many of Aristotle’s works into Latin, along with Neoplatonic commentaries on Aristotle by Ammonius and Simplicius, as well as works by Proclus (see Fryde 2000, 103–143). 21 For overviews of Metochites and his interests, see e.g. Tatakis 1949, 249–256 (tr. 2003, 206–212); Wilson 1996, 256–264; Fryde 2000, 322–336; Bazzani 2006. Note also the introductions in Hult 2002; Xenophontos 2020. 22 See the recent new edition with translation in Xenophontos 2020. 23 See Xenophontos 2020, xvi–xvii. 19

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Among Metochites’ students was Nikephoros Gregoras (1296–1361), who went on to teach at the monastery of Chora.24 Like his teacher, Gregoras had a wide range of intellectual interests, including theology, philosophy, astronomy, and history. He was widely read in ancient texts, having access to Metochites’ library. As well as Plato and Aristotle, he read Plotinus closely and knew Diogenes Laertius.25 Like his teacher, Gregoras was an admirer of Plato and critical of Aristotle, making him unsympathetic to Latin scholastic philosophy. It was within this context that he becomes especially relevant for Barlaam, because Gregoras was highly critical of Barlaam, whom he saw as in some respects an Aristotelian. Gregoras’ dialogue Florentios was written as a polemic against Barlaam.26 It was in this intellectual context, then, that Barlaam found himself when he first arrived in Constantinople. While there, he was attached to the Akataleptos monastery.27 Debates with Dominicans In 1334, two Dominican bishops – Francesco da Camerino and Richard of England – arrived in Constantinople with a view to engage in discussions regarding the union of the Catholic and Orthodox Churches. They had already been engaged in missionary activity in the East and felt confident that such a union might be possible.28 The Emperor Andronicus III asked Barlaam to speak on behalf of the Orthodox Church in the ensuing discussions with the two Dominicans, and, in 1335, Barlaam delivered two discourses.29 One of the central issues in the schism between the Eastern and Western Churches was the ongoing controversy over the use of the word filioque (‘and from the son’) in the Creed.30 The Nicene Creed, produced by the first council of Constantinople in 381, stated that the Holy Spirit ‘proceeds from the Father’

On Gregoras, see e.g. Guilland 1926; Tatakis 1949, 256–261 (tr. 2003, 212–217); Wilson 1996, 266–268; Fryde 2000, 357–373. An older biography is printed in PG cxlviii 19– 58. His letters are edited and translated into French in Guilland 1927; there is a more recent edition in Leone 1982–1983 (not seen). 25 On Plotinus see Mariev 2016; on Diogenes Laertius see Fryde 2000, 361. 26 See the edition with Italian translation in Leone 1975 and esp. the Introduction, 15–35, on the dispute with Barlaam. Its philosophical content is discussed in Mariev 2016. On the dispute with Barlaam, see also Guilland 1926, 16–30 and, on the Florentios, 165–170. 27 So Talbot 1991. 28 See Sinkewicz 1980, 490–492. The event is described in Gregoras, Byz. hist. 10.8 (PG cxlviii 701–721). 29 See Sinkewicz 1980, 492. The texts are edited in Giannelli 1946, 185–208, who gives them a much later date. Here we follow Sinkewicz’s assessment. 30 For a thorough study of the topic see Siecienski 2010, which touches on Barlaam at 143–145. 24

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Introduction

(ἐκ τοῦ Πατρὸς ἐκπορευόμενον, in Latin: ex Patre procedit).31 A number of early Latin councils added the word filioque, in effect claiming that the Holy Spirit proceeds from the Father and the Son. In this they were echoing the use of this phrase in a number of Latin Church Fathers, including Tertullian, Ambrose, and Augustine.32 As far as the Orthodox Church was concerned, this was an unwarranted and heterodox addition.33 During the discussions, the Dominicans appear to have put forward a number of arguments in favour of the filioque. It is conceivable that they may have been drawing on arguments on this topic made by their fellow Dominican Thomas Aquinas, who, in his Summa theologiae, explicitly challenged the wording of the Creed from the council at Constantinople.34 Indeed, it has been commented that “Thomas’s position on the filioque, like his opinion on so many subjects, became the position of the [Catholic] Church itself”.35 The fact that Barlaam explicitly mentioned Thomas in his responses adds weight to the suggestion that Thomas was a key point of reference in the discussions.36 In response to this, Barlaam published his discourses (Κατὰ Λατίνων, Contra Latinos), setting out his position more fully.37 His aim was to show – against the Dominican envoys – that it is not possible to gain knowledge of God by the use of human reasoning. In particular, he wanted to challenge the Dominicans’ use of syllogistic arguments in the ongoing theological discussions.38 While

Compare with John 15:26: ὃ παρὰ τοῦ πατρὸς ἐκπορεύεται. 32 For discussion, see Siecienski 2010, 51–71. For Augustine, see e.g. De trinitate 4.20.29 (PL xlii, 908): “the Holy spirit proceeds not only from the Father but also from the Son” (non tantum a Patre, sed et a Filio procedere Spiritum sanctum). 33 The first person in the East to comment on this issue was Maximus the Confessor, in the seventh century; see further Siecienski 2010, 73–86. Later, in the ninth century, Photius argued against the filioque and his position became foundational for the Orthodox view. See further Kolbaba 1995, 42–43; Siecienski 2010, 100–104. 34 See Thomas Aquinas, Summa theologiae I q. 36 a. 2. See the comments in Sinkewicz 1981, 165. Thomas also discussed the filioque in his Contra errores Graecorum, which is discussed in Siecienski 2010, 128–131. 35 Siecienski 2010, 131. 36 See e.g. Barlaam’s Contra Latinos, Tractatus A IV, 8 (Fyrigos 1998, 560), noted in Demetracopoulos 2004, 111–112, who agrees with Fyrigos and Sinkewicz (1981, 165) that Barlaam had no direct acquaintance with Thomas Aquinas’ works and what he knew of Thomas’s ideas would have come via his Latin interlocutors. See also Flogaus 1998, 6. For further discussion of the reception of Thomas Aquinas in Byzantium, see Plested 2017. 37 These are edited and translated into Italian in Fyrigos 1998. For a helpful discussion of their sources see Demetracopoulos 2004, who notes Barlaam’s frequent use of Platonic phrases (87, 106–108), and debts to earlier Byzantine philosophers such as Nikephoros Blemmydes and Theodore Metochites. More relevant in the present context is Barlaam’s use of Stoic logical notions, which are known to us only via Sextus Empiricus (ibid. 101; cf. 119). 38 See Sinkewicz 1982, 188. On the place of Aristotelian logic in the subsequent dispute between Barlaam, Palamas, and Gregoras, see Ierodianonou 2002. 31

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such methods may be appropriate in other domains of human inquiry, they are out of place when it comes to theology. It has been suggested that Barlaam’s position reflects the influence of the negative theology of Pseudo-Dionysius.39 Barlaam’s argument was that the use of Aristotelian syllogistic arguments is inappropriate in theological debates because in this context they would be unable to meet the requirements set out by Aristotle in the Posterior Analytics. According to Aristotle, demonstrative (ἀποδεικτικός) understanding depends on premises that are true, primitive, immediate, and “prior to and explanatory of the conclusion”.40 The premises are, in effect, the causes of the conclusion. In the context of theology, any argument that concluded with a statement about God would make that statement secondary and derivative from the premises. But all true statements about God must be primary and fundamental, and so this kind of syllogistic argument cannot be used in theology.41 Further, Barlaam went on to argue that many doctrines held by Christians that derive from scripture ultimately contradict the sorts of primitive, self-evident premises upon which Aristotle thought syllogisms could be built. As such, syllogistic reasoning can only challenge firmly-held Christian beliefs and so it would be impious to engage in this in the context of theological discussions.42 One of Barlaam’s targets here was Thomas Aquinas, who – as we have seen – was probably a key point of reference for his Dominican interlocutors. Thomas’s application of Aristotelian logic to theology was, as far as Barlaam was concerned, wholly inappropriate.43 An additional reason to doubt the applicability of Aristotelian logic to theological questions is the fact that syllogistic demonstration deals with universals. The conclusions generated are never specific to just one particular but instead apply to an entire class of entity. God, however, is singular and unique, and so this type of demonstration has no place in discussions of His attributes.44 This is, in effect, an affirmation of the absolute transcendence of God, and on

See Sinkewicz 1982, 189, 191; also Sinkewicz 1981, 174. Barlaam is said to have held some kind of official position as an interpreter of Pseudo-Dionysius (see Mandalari 1888, 71; Kolbaba 1995, 50; cf. Gregoras, Byz. hist. 19.1 [PG cxlviii, 1185]). 40 Aristotle, An. post. 71b19–25. 41 See Barlaam’s Contra Latinos, Tractatus B V (Fyrigos 1998, 380–412), summarized in Sinkewicz 1982, 189–190. 42 See Sinkewicz 1982, 192. 43 On Barlaam and Thomas Aquinas, see Sinkewicz 1982, 194–195, who notes that Barlaam’s knowledge of Thomas was minimal and probably restricted to what he heard from his Dominican interlocutors. Others have suggested that Barlaam, coming from the West himself, was “probably well-informed” about Aquinas (Ierodiakonou 2002, 227). See also n. 36 above and the discussion in Flogaus 1998, 5–10. 44 On this see Barlaam’s first letter to Palamas (Ep. Gr. 1), dated to 1335, in Schirò 1954, 251–254, with Sinkewicz 1981, 170. 39

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this – as we have noted – Barlaam was probably influenced by the Neoplatonic tradition via Pseudo-Dionysius.45 It was around this time that Barlaam also wrote Solutiones, in response to a series of questions posed by George Lapithes.46 This has been described as his “sole Greek philosophical work”.47 The central theme is one common in the Byzantine philosophical tradition, namely the reconciliation of Plato and Aristotle. In general, Barlaam’s concern was to defend Aristotle, both from charges of inconsistency and from disagreeing with Plato. It has been suggested that Barlaam’s knowledge of Aristotle’s philosophy was perhaps limited to the Physics.48 This may have reflected his broader and not uncommon view that Aristotle’s philosophy was primarily applicable to the natural world while it was Plato’s that addressed the immaterial world studied by metaphysics. In this sense – and very much within the spirit of the wider Neoplatonic tradition – Barlaam valued the philosophy of both Plato and Aristotle, seeing them as complementary rather than in conflict.49 As in the Contra Latinos, Barlaam argued in the Solutiones that the limitations of human reason mean that it will not be possible to grasp fully divine truths. Thus, any contradiction that might seem to exist between human truths and divine truths will only ever be apparent.50 Barlaam’s position, then, was one of epistemological caution, warning against extreme dogmatism on either side of the debate between the Eastern and Western churches. It has been described by some commentators as “theological agnosticism”.51 One can see how this might be a useful position to hold for someone involved in discussions aimed at bringing about reconciliation between the two sides, for although accepting it might require some compromise

Sinkewicz 1981, 176. It seems worth stressing that for Barlaam ‘Pseudo-Dionysius’ was not the late antique author heavily influenced by Neoplatonism that we identify with the name today, but rather ‘St Dionysius’, contemporary with the apostles, baptised by St Paul (cf. Acts 17:34), and first bishop of Athens (Eusebius, Hist. eccl. 3.4; 4.23). See e.g. Contra Latinos Tractatus B, VII, 6 (Fyrigos 1998, 452; Kolbaba 1995, 76–77); De papae principatu 5 (in Kolbaba 1995, 98–99; also PG cli, 1262; this is Anti-Latin Treatise 21 in Sinkewicz’s numbering, 1981, 189). 46 Text and discussion in Sinkewicz 1981. 47 Sinkewicz 1981, 152. 48 Sinkewicz 1981, 162. Barlaam was of course also well versed in Aristotle’s logical works. 49 See further Sinkewicz 1981, 164. 50 See Sinkewicz 1981, 174, citing Solutiones V, 2.4–8. 51 See both Meyendorff 1964, 43, and Siecienski 2010, 145. It is worth contrasting this cautious scepticism in theology with Barlaam’s approach to the study of the natural world. In his works on astronomy (in Mogenet and Tihon 1977), Barlaam offers complex and precise calculations regarding solar eclipses. There seems to be no doubt at all about the possibility of knowledge in the realm of physics. 45

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by both parties, neither would be forced to renounce their own view and embrace that of the other side. The Hesychast Controversy The precise dating of Barlaam’s anti-Latin works is unclear and has been a subject of scholarly debate.52 Early versions of some of these texts came to the attention of Gregory Palamas (1296–1359), a monk in the community at Mount Athos.53 Barlaam and Palamas exchanged letters briefly and Barlaam revised some of his texts in order to reduce the possibility of misinterpretation.54 In these Barlaam again argued that there can be no Aristotelian demonstrations about God, because such demonstrations apply to universal claims, whereas God’s attributes are unique.55 Palamas went on to write his own treatise against the Latins in which he warned against making any theological compromise and questioned Barlaam’s account of the doctrine of filioque.56 This opening dispute with Palamas laid the foundations for what came to be known as the Hesychast controversy. In 1337 Barlaam encountered a number of Hesychast monks in Thessaloniki. They held that through the act of silent meditative prayer (ἡσυχία) it is possible to attain direct communion with God. Barlaam had grave concerns about this view and considered it potentially heretical. As a consequence, he reported the Hesychast monks to the Synod in Constantinople. This led to further correspondence with Palamas, who took the side of the Hesychasts. One of the concerns of Palamas was that Barlaam’s position might lead to the conclusion that knowledge of God is impossible. While Palamas shared Barlaam’s concerns about the Latins’ use of Aristotelian logic in theology, he nevertheless wanted to hold on to the idea that knowledge of God can be achieved. If not by reason, that knowledge must come via mystical contemplation.57 This led Palamas to go on to draw a distinction between inner and outer wisdom. Although the outer wisdom of logical argumentation may not be able to secure knowledge of God, the inner wisdom of direct experience offers another route. He later characterized this as “divine illumination”.58 This direct

See the discussion in Kolbaba 1995, 59–60, and Fyrigos 1998, 211–218. 53 On Palamas, in particular see Meyendorff 1964; note also Tatakis 1949, 270–276 (tr. 2003, 224–229). 54 There are two letters by Barlaam addressed to Palamas (Ep. Gr. 1 and 3), dated to 1335 and 1336, in Schirò 1954, 229–266 and 279–314. Palamas’ letters to Barlaam are in Chrestou 1962–1992, i, 225–295. 55 See Barlaam’s first letter to Palamas (Ep. Gr. 1), dated to 1335, in Schirò 1954, 251– 254. 56 For discussion of the opening dispute between Barlaam and Palamas, see Ierodiakonou 2002. On the dispute in general see Louth 2017, 337–339; Russell 2017. 57 See further Ierodiakonou 2002; Russell 2017, 495. 58 See e.g. Palamas, Capita 150, chs 65–66 (Sinkewicz 1988, 158–161; also PG cl, 1168). 52

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experience of God involved, for the Hesychasts, a whole series of practices, from the constant repetition of certain words of prayer to specific breathing exercises. For Barlaam, it was absurd to think that such physical practices could contribute to an intellectual communion with God. For Palamas, by contrast, this stress on the body underlined “a Christocentric conception of human life”,59 which is to say that it stressed the fact that God Himself had chosen to take human form. Palamas went on to write a number of polemical works against Barlaam, including his Triads in Defence of the Holy Hesychasts and his Dialogue Between an Orthodox and a Barlaamite.60 In the former, Palamas responded directly to Barlaam’s treatises. In response to Barlaam’s claim that God is beyond human knowledge, Palamas countered that God is equally beyond unknowing.61 Both Barlaam and Palamas were engaging with the tradition of negative theology and both cited Pseudo-Dionysius in their support; at times, the dispute can appear to be about who best understands the Areopagite.62 As the controversy reached a wider audience, Nikephoros Gregoras became embroiled. Broadly sympathetic to Neoplatonism, Gregoras was, like Barlaam, critical of Palamas.63 He ultimately lost out in the ensuing dispute and, again like Barlaam, was condemned and forced into exile. However, he was no fan of Barlaam either.64 It has sometimes been claimed that Barlaam’s objections to Hesychasm reflected his training in rational Western theology.65 On this view, Barlaam’s training in Aristotelian logic led to a deep-seated scepticism with regard to such mysticism. Yet, as we have seen, Barlaam was equally critical of the Western application of logical argumentation to problems in theology. It is important, then, to distinguish between three positions: i) the claims of the Latin Dominicans that knowledge of God is possible via rational theology; ii) the claims of the Hesychasts and Palamas that knowledge of God is possible via direct experience; and iii) Barlaam’s own view, drawing on the negative theology of Pseudo-Dionysius, that any kind of firm knowledge of God is

Meyendorff 1983, 5; cf. Russell 2017, 497. 60 The former is edited and translated into French in Meyendorff 1973 and partially translated into English in Meyendorff 1983. The latter is translated into English in Ferwerda 1999 (not seen). 61 See Meyendorff 1983, 13. 62 See, for example, Triads 2.3.68 (Meyendorff 1973, ii, 531; trans. in Meyendorff 1983, 68–69); also Capita 150, chs 65–66 (Sinkewicz 1988, 158–161; also PG cl, 1168). 63 See Russell 2017, 501–502. On Gregoras and Neoplatonism, see Mariev 2016. 64 On Gregoras’ criticisms of Barlaam (in his Florentios) and Palamas, see Ierodiakonou 2002, 221–224, along with items cited in n. 26 above. 65 See e.g. the entry on Hesychasm in Cross 1958, 633. For the claim that Barlaam brought a distinctively Western outlook to the debate, see also Ebbesen 2002, 26; Ierodiaknou 2002, 226. 59

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impossible. It is perhaps also worth noting here that Barlaam the Basilian monk was also following the view of St Basil, who had argued that we can know something of God via his actions but we can never understand his essence.66 Barlaam was thus not a sceptical outsider from the West but simply a devout Basilian monk. Even so, he perhaps brought with him a perspective slightly different to that shared by theologians educated in the East.67 Diplomacy and Expulsion In the midst of all of this, in 1339 Barlaam was sent by the Emperor Andronicus III on a diplomatic mission to the West. It seems likely that he visited the court of King Robert in Naples (on which more below), before heading on to Avignon, then seat of the Pope. From there he may have headed north to Paris, where at the time Jean Buridan was teaching.68 At Avignon it is likely that he had his first encounter with Petrarch. On behalf of the emperor, Barlaam presented a discourse on the union of the churches.69 The trip did not last long and Barlaam was soon back in Constantinople. After his return, the ongoing dispute with Palamas came to a head. In 1341 two councils condemned Barlaam, resulting in his excommunication, and as a consequence the Patriarch of Constantinople ordered that Barlaam’s controversial theological works must be destroyed.70 The controversy did not go away, however, and Gregory Akindynos took up the defence of Barlaam’s position in the dispute.71 Palamas was formally proclaimed winner at a Synod of 1347, not long after which he wrote his One Hundred and Fifty Chapters, a polemical work that was, as he put it, “intended as a purge for the Barlaamite corruption”.

See e.g. Basil, Ep. 234 (LCL): “from His activities we know our God, but His substance itself we do not profess to approach. For His activities (ἐνέργειαι) descend to us, but His substance (οὐσία) remains inaccessible.” It is worth noting that in his polemic against Barlaam, Palamas often appeals to Basil as an authority, presumably because he knew that it was one that Barlaam could not reject. See further Russell 2017, 496; 498–499. 67 Barlaam’s status is perhaps best summed up by Sinkewicz 1988, 54: “Although thoroughly Greek, his South Italian origins made him something of a foreigner to the strictures of Byzantine traditionalism. Perhaps for this reason his thinking shows certain un-Byzantine qualities of originality and innovation.” As we have already seen (nn. 36 and 43 above), Barlaam appears to have had little direct knowledge of Thomas Aquinas but did draw on the work of earlier Byzantine thinkers. 68 See Trizio 2017. As an aside, to put Barlaam into a wider context, it seems worth noting that he was not only a contemporary of Buridan but also of William of Ockham (1287– 1347), who had himself been resident in Avignon just a few years earlier, between 1324 and 1328. 69 This is printed in Tǎutu 1958, 85–97 and also PG cli, 1331–1342. 70 See Sinkewicz 1982, 182. 71 On Akindynos, see Hero 1983, which includes an edition and translation of his letters. Hero notes, xii, that “Akindynos belonged to the intimate circle of Barlaam’s friends”. His De essentia et operatione Dei is printed in PG cli, 1189–1242. 66

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Further polemics between Palamas and Gregoras took place, but by this point Barlaam was long out of the picture. Palamas would eventually be proclaimed a saint after his death. Naples and Avignon After his excommunication in 1341, Barlaam returned to the West, more or less for good. He settled in Avignon where he came into contact with Petrarch and – as every standard history of classical scholarship notes – became his Greek teacher.72 It has been suggested that Barlaam was teaching Greek in the papal Curia and that, during the summer of 1342, Petrarch also studied with him privately.73 Petrarch mentions Barlaam a number of times, mainly in his correspondence. Writing late in life, some twenty years after Barlaam’s death, he commented: A number of men expert in the Greek language live in Calabria in our day, two in particular, the monk Barlaam [da Seminara] and Leone or Leontius [Pilatus], both of them good friends of mine; the former had even been my teacher and would perhaps have accomplished something with me had death not begrudged us.74

In his De ignorantia, Petrarch noted seeing a manuscript containing Plato’s dialogues in Barlaam’s possession: What small part of Plato’s works do I have? With my own eyes I have seen a great number of them, especially in the collection of Barlaam the Calabrian, that modern paragon of Greek wisdom. He once began to teach me Greek, despite my ignorance of Latin letters, and perhaps he might have succeeded, if death had not spitefully taken him from me and cut short this noble undertaking, as often it does.75

Petrarch was of course keen to learn Greek precisely in order to be able to access the works of Plato, who had been such an important influence on the Latin authors he knew and loved best: Cicero and Augustine.76 The two passages above suggest that it was Barlaam’s death that robbed Petrarch of the opportunity to do this. However, another passage complicates the story:

See e.g. Sandys 1903–1908, ii, 8; Highet 1949, 84; Reynolds and Wilson 1968, 122; Pfeiffer 1976, 14; Hunt et al. 2017, 157; Wilson 2017, 2. On the relationship between Barlaam and Petrarch, see Nolhac 1892; Lo Parco 1905; Nolhac 1907, ii, 134–139; Fyrigos 1989. 73 See Wilkins 1961, 33–34. 74 Petrarch, Sen. 11.9 (to Ugo di Sanseverino, 1368), trans. Bernardo et al. 1992, ii, 412, with his additions in square brackets. 75 Petrarch, De ignorantia 124 (Marsh 2003, 328–329). Marsh notes that the comment “despite my ignorance of Latin letters” needs to be taken as sarcastic (ibid. 487). 76 In De ignorantia 123, Petrarch notes that he owned sixteen of Plato’s books. On his admiration for Plato (including an allusion to Barlaam), see Secretum 2.11.2–6 (Mann 2016, 104–107). 72

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There was another, formerly my teacher, who, having raised my highest hopes, forsook me by dying at the threshold of my studies, although he had already abandoned me previously when, by considering his own interests rather than mine, he was able to advance with my assistance to an episcopal office.77

Petrarch elaborated on this in a further letter: Death snatched away our Barlaam and, to tell the truth, it was I who first banished him from my presence. While seeking honours for him, I was inflicting harm upon myself that went unnoticed; thus in helping his climb to the bishopric, I lost a teacher under whom I had begun to serve with great expectation. […] He, while teaching me a great deal in daily lessons, admitted that he too had acquired much from our meetings […]; but he was as learned in Greek as he was poor in this knowledge of Latin, and though possessing a nimble mind, he would nonetheless have to work hard to express his feelings […] his knowledge of Latin was greater than my knowledge of Greek. At that time, I was laying foundations while he was somewhat more advanced since he had been born in Magna Grecia.78

The appointment that Petrarch mentions in these two passages took place in October 1342, when Barlaam was made Bishop of Gerace, in his home region of Calabria, by the newly anointed Pope Clement VI. This followed not long after Barlaam had made the decision to convert to Catholicism.79 It is not clear whether Barlaam fully relocated to Gerace, remained primarily based at Avignon, or made some other arrangement.80 The evidence from Petrarch is unclear: on the one hand he says that Barlaam’s new appointment ended their lessons, while on the other he suggests that it was only Barlaam’s death in 1348 that ended his chance to learn Greek. The fact that Petrarch appears to have made very little progress with Greek, not even fully mastering the alphabet,81 suggests that lessons did not last very long at all. Other explanations for Petrarch’s lack of progress have included i) his own poor performance as a student, ii) Barlaam’s far from perfect Latin,82 iii) Barlaam’s move to Gerace,83

Petrarch, Fam. 24.12 (to unknown correspondent, 1360), trans. Bernardo 1985, iii, 348. See also Fantham 2017, ii, 497. 78 Petrarch, Fam. 18.2 (to Nicholas Sygeros), trans. Bernardo 1985, iii, 45 (modified). 79 Barlaam was by no means the only Greek monk to make this move and a century later would be followed by Isidore of Kiev and Bessarion, both of whom became cardinals in the Roman Catholic church. 80 Trizio 2017 suggests that Barlaam spent most of his time in Avignon and died there. On his appointment at Gerace, see further D’Agostino 2001. 81 This claim, often made (e.g. Pfeiffer 1976, 13–14), is based on mis-transcriptions of Greek words in Petrarch’s own hand in his manuscript of Suetonius, now in Exeter College Library, Oxford (Exeter College MS 186). See further Billanovich 1956; Hunt 1960. Note also ‘ΜΕΤΕΜΨΙΚΟΣΙΣ’ in De ignorantia 84 (Marsh 2003, 294–295), instead of the correct ‘ΜΕΤΕΜΨΥΧΟΣΙΣ’. 82 See e.g. Wilkins 1961, 34; Bishop 1964, 185. Note also Boccaccio’s comment in Genealogia Deorum Gentilium (Gen.) 15.6 (trans. Osgood 1930, 114). 83 See e.g. Sandys 1903–1908, ii, 8; Highet 1949, 84: “[Petrarch] failed, because his tutor Barlaam left Avignon”. 77

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or iv) Barlaam’s lack of ability as a teacher.84 Whatever the explanation, Petrarch did not give up on his hope to learn Greek and later tried again with the aid of Leonzio Pilato, one of Barlaam’s pupils, also from Calabria.85 Pilato would go on to become the first person to teach Greek in Florence, prompted by Boccaccio. However, neither Petrarch nor Boccaccio held Pilato in very high regard.86 This was in marked contrast to their fulsome praise for Barlaam. Boccaccio described Barlaam, “the monk of Basil Caesariensis, a Calabrian”, in the following terms: Though his body was slight, he overtopped others in learning. Indeed he was so good a Hellenist that he enjoyed privileges at the hands of emperors and Greek princes and scholars, which show that neither in our time, nor for many a century, have the Greeks produced a man endowed with such vast and peculiar erudition.87

The physical description suggests that Boccaccio met Barlaam. This would place Barlaam in Naples, for Boccaccio was in Naples from 1327 until 1341. The young Boccaccio had gone to Naples with his father as part of the latter’s plan to launch him into a mercantile career. Unimpressed by the experience, Boccaccio managed to gain his father’s agreement to study canon law at the University of Naples, from 1330 to 1335. Ultimately that equally failed to hold his attention, for his real ambitions were literary. It was presumably at some point in the period 1335 to 1341 that Boccaccio turned to Paolo da Perugia, librarian to King Robert, as a mentor. Boccaccio describes Paolo as “a man of highest authority […] advanced in years, of great and varied learning”.88 He also reports that Paolo enjoyed a friendship with Barlaam and drew on Barlaam’s learning when writing about pagan mythology.89 Boccaccio also

See e.g. Reynolds and Wilson 1968, 122: “[Barlaam’s] ability as a teacher left something to be desired”. In his biography of Petrarch (Vita Francisci Petrarchae), written in 1440, Giannozzo Manetti doubted neither Petrarch’s ability as a student nor Barlaam’s mastery of Greek, attributing Petrarch’s lack of progress to Barlaam’s untimely death. He was probably simply following Petrarch’s own assessment. See Vita Francisci Petrarchae 19 (Baldassarri and Bagemihl 2003, 78–79; note also ibid. 92–93, 94–95, 138–141, 146–147). 85 On Pilato see Wilson 2017, 2–7. Boccaccio reports that Pilato claimed to be a pupil of Barlaam (Gen. 15.6, trans. Osgood 1930, 114), but Pilato had also claimed that he was from Greece, only later admitting that he was in fact from Calabria. Note also Manetti’s Vita Ioannis Boccacii 6 (Baldassarri and Bagemihl 2003, 92–93), although some other details in this passage are not wholly reliable. 86 Despite describing Pilato as a “good friend” in Sen. 11.9, quoted above, elsewhere, in a letter to Boccaccio, Petrarch called him a “great fool” with a gloomy temperament (Sen. 3.6, trans. Bernardo et al. 1992, i, 100; note also Sen. 6.1, trans. Bernardo et al. 1992, i, 189– 190). Boccaccio described him as moribus incultus, “rough in manners and behaviour” (Gen. 15.6, trans. Osgood 1930, 114). 87 Boccaccio, Gen. 15.6 (trans. Osgood 1930, 113). 88 Boccaccio, Gen. 15.6 (trans. Osgood 1930, 114). 89 See Boccaccio, Gen. 15.6 (trans. Osgood 1930, 114) and note also Gen. 1.Proh.1 (Solomon 2011, 6–7). 84

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comments that he possessed materials derived from Barlaam, presumably notes on pagan mythology that Barlaam had prepared for Paolo and that Boccaccio inherited. These notes would prove especially useful for Boccaccio when writing his Genealogia deorum gentilium, throughout which Boccaccio cites Barlaam as a source of information, both directly and second hand via Paolo and Pilato.90 If, as has been suggested, Barlaam spent time in Naples with Paolo in 1339, Boccaccio would have had the opportunity to meet him.91 That would place Barlaam in Naples during his first diplomatic mission to the West.92 Gerace The last years of Barlaam’s life were presumably spent, at least in part, in Gerace.93 This would have been Barlaam’s opportunity to return home to southern Italy. We do know that during this period he made one last visit to Constantinople, in 1345, on behalf of the pope.94 It is thought that he succumbed to the Black Death in 1348, although it is not entirely clear where he was when he died. Some commentators have suggested that he died in Avignon.95 It was probably during this period that Barlaam wrote the ESS. There are a number of reasons to think this likely. The first is that the manuscript describes Barlaam as “Episcopum Gyracensem”. The second is that it is written in Latin and so presumably intended for a Latin audience. With that thought in mind, the obvious person who might have been keen to read an account of Stoic ethics in Latin, based on Greek sources otherwise unavailable, was Petrarch. In the decade after Barlaam’s death, the 1350s, Boccaccio worked on his Genealogia deorum gentilium, described as “one of the first works of classical

Boccaccio names Barlaam as a source in Gen. at e.g. 1.2, 1.20, 2.29, 3.20, 4.20, 4.21, 4.46, 4.47, 6.34, 7.10, 8.2, 8.8, 9.1, 9.7, 9.8, 9.19, 10.47, 10.53, 10.59. Among these, Gen. 4.46 reports information gained via Pilato, and Gen. 4.47 reports information gained via Paolo. 91 See e.g. Osgood 1930, 189. 92 See Mandalari 1888, 50. Others – e.g. Kolbaba 1995, 50 – have suggested that Barlaam’s visit to Naples took place in 1341 after his condemnation. It is of course possible that he visited in both 1339 and 1341. 93 On Barlaam’s last years, see Lo Parco 1905, 65–76; Lo Parco 1910; D’Agostino 2001. Kolbaba 1995, 51, suggests that “most of the rest of his life was spent in Gerace”. 94 See Lo Parco 1905, 117–118 for a transcript of the letter from Pope Clement. 95 See e.g. Lo Parco 1910, 16; Talbot 1991. Mogenet and Tihon 1977, 150, suggest that he probably went to Avignon after the unsuccessful trip to Constantinople, in order to report back to the pope, and that it is likely that he subsequently died there. Similarly, Trizio 2017 suggests that Barlaam spent the last two years of his life – after his 1345 trip to Constantinople – back in Avignon and that he died there. On the date of his death, see Jugie 1940, 124–125. 90

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scholarship in the Renaissance”,96 often crediting Barlaam as a source of information.97 Boccaccio’s focus on this project was prompted by his first encounter with Petrarch, in 1351, who inspired him to prioritize Latin scholarship over vernacular literature.98 Petrarch would continue to do that too in the same decade, commencing his substantial De remediis utriusque fortunae, heavily indebted to Stoic accounts of the emotions.

2. The Ethica secundum Stoicos The Text of ESS The text of ESS is found in only one manuscript, Clm. 111 of the Bavarian State Library (Bayerische Staatsbibliothek) in Munich, Germany. This was examined over a three-day period in the summer of 1996. According to a note on the manuscript itself, it was produced in April 1553 at Rome by a scribe whose initials were M.M.A. The watermark of the paper is consistent with paper made in Rome during that period.99 The manuscript is bound together with other manuscripts in a red leather codex presented to Albrecht V (founder of the Bavarian State Library) by Johann Jakob Fugger in 1571 in consideration for financial assistance rendered to Fugger by the duke.100 Fugger had, over the years, sent out agents to buy or copy manuscripts in Italy, Spain, and the Netherlands. It seems reasonable to suppose that the manuscript had been copied in Rome at Fugger’s direction and was in his possession from 1553 until the time it was presented to Duke Albrecht. The ESS is the only philosophical work bound in the codex. Nearly all the other writings bound with it are letters from various bishops, many of them dealing with relations between the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches. The same scribe who copied the ESS also copied several letters of Barlaam written against the Orthodox church. Perhaps the ESS found the home in the codex it did because of Barlaam’s letters which were copied along with it. These were both printed for the first time by Henricus Canisius in his Antiquae Lectiones, published 1601–1604. They were reprinted from Canisius’ edition by Jacques Basnage in his Thesaurus Monumentum Ecclesiasticorum et Historicorum, in 1725, and in the following century were included in Migne’s Patrologia Graeca, vol. cli, cols 1341–1364.

Solomon 2011, vii. 97 See n. 90 above. 98 See McLaughlin 1996, 228–229. 99 Compare Briquet 1907, 353, illustrations 6097 and 6098. 100 Lehmann 1960, 9. The manuscript is also discussed in Hartig 1917, 272. 96

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Authorship Barlaam’s authorship of ESS has not been universally accepted. Trizio lists it as spurious, while adding that “if proven genuine” it may have some connection with Petrarch’s interests in Stoicism.101 Demetracopoulos suggests that it is “of doubful authenticity”, adding that “if genuine, it must have been written after 1342, probably in the context of Barlaam’s contact with Petrarch”.102 Elsewhere, though, Demetracopoulos notes Barlaam’s use of Stoic logical terminology in his Contra Latinos, which he suggests probably derived from Sextus Empiricus.103 This evidence might be taken to undermine the argument that Barlaam is unlikely to have written ESS because there is no other evidence to suggest that he had any interest in Stoicism. Others, however, have seen no reason to doubt the clear attribution to Barlaam on the manuscript. These include Carelos, editor of Barlaam’s Λογιστική,104 and Fyrigos, who lists it as a genuine work.105 It has also been suggested that, while genuine, it is in fact a translation into Latin of a lost work by Barlaam originally composed in Greek.106 In his published work Sinkewicz affirmed it as genuine, suggesting that it was written after 1341, when Barlaam was in the West.107 Yet, in a personal communication, he cast doubt on its authenticity.108 He offered three arguments in support of his view. First, he noted that the Vatican manuscript of Barlaam’s letters (MS Vat. Lat. 4068), which is probably Barlaam’s presentation copy, does not contain the ESS. Second, he noted that none of Barlaam’s other works show any interest in Stoicism. Finally, he said that archival evidence suggests that Barlaam focused on the affairs of his diocese after his election. While these arguments are powerful, we hold that the weight of the evidence continues to suggest that Barlaam is the author of the ESS. To begin with, the author of the ESS shows knowledge of the same authors with whom Barlaam himself was well acquainted and appears to use them in similar ways. The entire argument in support of the Stoic position is made on the basis of Aristotle’s Organon; in his undisputed works, Barlaam both shows awareness of, and makes expert use of, the Organon. The author of the ESS discusses the Platonic view of happiness and relates it to the Stoic view, finding the two positions compatible; Barlaam’s love of Plato is evident in his

Trizio 2017, 4. 102 Demetracopoulos 2017, 3. 103 Demetracopoulos 2004, 101; cf. 119. This challenges Sinkewicz’s statement (1981, 165) that there is no evidence of any interest in Stoicism in Barlaam’s earlier Greek works. 104 Carelos 1996, xxvi. 105 See Fyrigos 1989, 182–183 n. 8. Note also Mandalari 1888, 73–74. 106 See Fortenbaugh 2011, 279. 107 Sinkewicz 1981, 165. 108 In a letter to C. R. Hogg dated 22 February 1992. 101

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attempt to teach Greek to Petrarch using Plato as a basis. At one point, a citation is made from Pseudo-Dionysius; as mentioned above, Barlaam lectured on that author. Most of the illustrations used to show that the Peripatetics mixed items from different genera in their definition of happiness are drawn from the field of geometry. While none of these points may be convincing by itself, taken together they reveal an author with the same constellation of interests and a similar way of using sources as is found in the undisputed works of Barlaam. Again, the author of the ESS appears to have had access to Stoic works which are now unknown. The distinction of degrees of disturbance made in Book 2 of the ESS is completely without parallel in the known corpus of Stoic thought. It is not unreasonable to suppose that the author had access to a Greek original which is no longer extant. The author also apparently knew Greek, for in speaking of various kinds of disturbance he uses elythiotes (i.e. ἠλιθιότης), a Greek word for madness. There are few authors in the late medieval period who had skill in both Latin and Greek; Barlaam was one of those. There is also the matter of the author’s knowing works which were either unknown or poorly known in the West in the late medieval period – a fact which suggests that the author may have studied the sources in Greek. For example, the author refers to Plato’s Phaedo and Phaedrus in 1.32–33. The Phaedrus was not translated until the Renaissance, and although the Phaedo had been translated in the Middle Ages, that translation was not widely circulated. The author of the ESS also distinguishes the Stoic notion of disturbance from that of Theophrastus; according to Charles B. Schmitt, “direct knowledge of the contribution of Theophrastus was very limited indeed during the Middle Ages, and it was not until the fifteenth century that some of his more important writings were recovered”.109 A third argument for Barlaamian authorship is found in the statement at ESS 1.1: For to think that a finite nature can progress infinitely and be perfected without exceeding its limits not only goes against the common notions, but also destroys every appetite. If there is no end to the things we desire, then where does appetite finally fasten itself?

This statement appears to be directed against the views of Gregory Palamas, Barlaam’s chief opponent in his theological troubles. Palamas contended for just such a view – the view that human beings in their present condition (i.e. with body and soul united) could progress infinitely and be perfected. In one case, Palamas says that when the true man goes forth to his true work (Psalm 104:23) and with this light guiding him, he rises or is transported up to the eternal mountain tops; he begins, oh miracle, to see

109

Schmitt 1971, 251.

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supracosmic realities, without separating himself and without being separated from the matter which has been with him from the beginning.110

Thus human beings, in their present composite nature, are capable of sharing in supracosmic realities, and rising to eternal mountain tops – an allusion to the Transfiguration narrative, in which Palamas claimed that the disciples experienced uncreated light. Again, Palamas claimed that the glory imprinted by the grace of God “strengthens the power of the mind to surpass itself and accomplishes that union with the Best which passes understanding”.111 Meyendorff comments that divine grace is “divine life granted to man”, and that “the idea that deified man becomes ‘uncreated through grace’ is frequent in Palamas’s writings”.112 Further evidence is found in Gregory’s rejection of Barlaam’s position on the passions; Gregory says that Barlaam taught that the passionate part (τό παθητικόν) of the soul must die.113 This appears to be a somewhat garbled understanding of Barlaam’s position, but it certainly reflects Barlaam’s view that the passions are to be uprooted, not merely restrained. In addition to the internal evidence for Barlaam’s authorship, there is strong external evidence. To begin with, there is the matter of the manuscript itself, which claims that Barlaam wrote the work. Although it would not be impossible for a scribe to attribute a work to the wrong author, it is not clear what reason would have led the scribe to do so in this case. What of the points that Sinkewicz raises in opposition to Barlaam as author of the ESS? The fact that the presentation copy of Barlaam’s speeches does not have the ESS may equally serve as an argument that the ESS was written at some time after he had presented the speeches to the pope. Similarly, a manuscript now in Venice from the library of Cardinal Bessarion containing a number of Barlaam’s works, including his treatises on solar eclipses (Marc. Gr. 332), is written entirely in Greek and Barlaam is called simply “Barlaam the Monk” (βαρλαὰμ μοναχοῦ).114 These details might suggest that the manuscript originated in Constantinople and was brought by Bessarion to Italy. By contrast, the manuscript of ESS in Munich describes Barlaam as “Episcopum Gyracensem”, suggesting that its title was formulated towards the end of Barlaam’s career. We have already addressed the claim that Barlaam nowhere else speaks of Stoicism, by noting that he did in fact make use of Stoic logical terminology via Sextus Empiricus.115

Quoted in Meyendorff 1964, 153. 111 Triads 2.3.11 (Meyendorff 1973, ii, 407), quoted in Meyendorff 1964, 165. 112 Meyendorff 1964, 176–177. 113 Quoted in Meyendorff 1964, 169. 114 See Mogenet and Tihon 1977, 9. 115 See n. 103 above. In his Bibliotheca Graeca, Johann Fabricius credited to Barlaam a Christian paraphrase of the Enchiridion of Epictetus (strictly speaking, Arrian’s Enchiridion 110

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Finally, what of the notion that the affairs of his diocese kept Barlaam too busy to write on Stoic ethics? Perhaps there is a parallel to be found with the career of Cicero who, as he was faced with the difficulties of life in the crumbling Republic, turned increasingly to Stoic thought for consolation. As Barlaam’s fortunes waned with the loss of influence at the Byzantine court, his conversion to a faith he had opposed, and his placement as bishop of a poor diocese whose affairs were continually challenged by a wealthier diocese nearby, he may well, like Cicero, have turned for consolation to the philosophical school which reckoned virtue alone as happiness. There is no clear internal or external evidence to state definitively the date and occasion of the writing of the ESS. If the supposition about the fact that the ESS is not bound with the presentation copy of Barlaam’s speeches is correct, we may surmise that the ESS was written at some time after his conversion to Roman Catholicism, perhaps in his final years either in Gerace or at Avignon. Sources The title of ESS includes the statement that it was compiled from many books of the Stoics (ex pluribus voluminibus eorumdem Stoicorum). Given that the second part of ESS recounts an otherwise unknown account of the Stoic theory of emotions, we are left with the intriguing possibility that Barlaam had access to Stoic texts that are now lost. No complete texts from the early Athenian Stoa survive.116 We have a good number of testimonia and quotations relating to the Athenian Stoics, gathered together by von Arnim in Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta. There is good evidence that the works of Chrysippus – regularly cited as the most important of the early Stoics – were in circulation until the second century AD. Cicero clearly had access to them in his personal library, while the poet Persius is said to have owned a complete set in the early first century AD.117 In the second century a wide range of authors regularly quoted from Chrysippus’ works, suggesting that they were readily available; these include Plutarch, Aulus Gellius,

Epicteti) traditionally attributed to Nilus (Fabricius 1790–1809, xi, 469; repr. in PG cli, 1255). Fabricius cites as his source for this Heumann 1715–1726, i, 739, but it is not clear on what basis Heumann made that claim. Sinkewicz 1981, 192, lists this as spurious and comments that it “has been attributed to Barlaam solely because he wrote a treatise in Latin on Stoic ethics”. The subsequent critical edition of the paraphrase by Boter confirms this, given that he lists two eleventh-century manuscripts of the text (Boter 1999, 153), produced well before Barlaam was born. 116 The one exception, assuming it is complete, is Cleanthes’ Hymn to Zeus, included in the Anthology of Stobaeus (SVF 1.537). Some inevitably incomplete fragments of Stoic texts have been recovered from the papyri at Herculaneum; see further Sellars 2016, 7. 117 This is reported by the ancient biography of Persius, traditionally attributed to Suetonius, but now thought to be by Valerius Probus.

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and Galen. Beyond the second century, however, they appear to have dropped out of circulation and the number of authors quoting from them declines considerably. When a late ancient author such as Simplicius draws on Stoic material he is probably relying on an intermediate source such as Alexander of Aphrodisias or Porphyry. It seems unlikely that any works by Chrysippus or any of the other Hellenistic Stoics were still in circulation in the sixth century AD. The Stoic texts that did survive to that point – such as the works of Seneca and Epictetus – are for the most part the ones that have survived down to the present day. Most of the references to Stoic texts during the Byzantine period fit this model. Photius and the Suda lexicon refer to Epictetus.118 Three different Christian paraphrases of Epictetus’ Enchiridion were made and a commentary was written on one of them in the tenth century.119 Arethas also refers to the writings of Marcus Aurelius.120 Later Byzantine writers occasionally refer to Stoic authors and ideas, but not in a way to indicate that they had access to texts not known to us. The only significant reference throughout this period to a Stoic text that is now lost is Photius’ reference to eight books of Dissertationes Epicteti by Arrian, of which only four survive today.121 At the same time, there is plenty of evidence showing that ancient texts now lost to us still survived into the Palaiologan Renaissance. In 1280, just a few decades before Barlaam arrived in Constantinople, William of Moerbeke translated a number of short texts by Proclus into Latin (the Tria opuscula). The Greek originals are now lost, and Moerbeke’s Latin versions are the only complete witnesses for these texts.122 Maximos Planudes, working in Barlaam’s lifetime, had access to manuscripts now lost and his work searching for, and collecting together, the essays of Plutarch no doubt contributed to their survival.123 Previously unknown works may also have come to light in this period. Browning commented that “the gradual loss of most of Byzantine Asia Minor to the Turks is likely to have led to a fresh influx of books to Constantinople, as refugees from these regions brought their possessions with them”.124 It has also been suggested that it was not uncommon for scholars of this period to have access to very early manuscripts.125 As just one example, an extant Plato manuscript dated to around the time of Barlaam’s birth contains mistakes typical

See Photius, Bibl. 58 (= test. 6 in Schenkl 1916); Suda A3868 (= test. 7 in Schenkl 1916; Adler 1928–1938, i, 350) and E2424 (Adler 1928–1938, ii, 365–366). 119 For the three Christian adaptations of the Enchiridion, see Boter 1999. The anonymous commentary on one of these is in Spanneut 2007. 120 See Arethas, Ep. 44 (Westerink 1968–1972, i, 305). 121 See Photius, Bibl. 58 (= test. 6 in Schenkl 1916). 122 See Fryde 2000, 141. 123 On Planudes’ scholarly activity, see Wilson 1996, 230–241; Fryde 2000, 226–267. 124 Browning 1960, 12. 125 See Browning 1960, 13–14; Fryde 2000, 156. 118

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Introduction

of someone copying an uncial manuscript of the sort current in the third or fourth centuries AD.126 It is not impossible to imagine third century manuscripts of early Stoic texts, such as works by Chrysippus, given that they circulated widely into the second century. Although it may seem highly unlikely that one of these could have survived until, say, 1300, the case of the Plato manuscript suggests that it is not inconceivable. In short, although there is no specific evidence for early Stoic texts surviving into this period, there is nothing implausible about the idea that Barlaam had access to a range of texts no longer available to us. Having said that, we do have the following statement from Theodore Metochites, written in the 1320s around the time that Barlaam arrived in Constantinople, which is worth quoting in full: The Stoics were most influential in the Hellenistic period and later in Roman times, under the Emperors, when the Christian faith first began to illuminate human life in the whole of the civilised world. The Stoics were in opposition both to Aristotle and to his disciples and followers, the Peripatetics, and they were extremely influential, more so than all the other adherents of the different schools of philosophy. They flourished greatly and were well armed, and they thought very highly of themselves because of the multitude of their adherents and their writings. But this is all gone, completely vanquished by the wisdom of Aristotle; nothing remains, nothing whatsoever is left of their writings; it is as if they had never existed.127

Metochites’ comment is part of a longer passage praising Aristotle, so it is not written from an entirely neutral perspective. Even so, as a leading humanist and book collector of the period with serious interests in philosophy, if anyone at this time might have known about Stoic texts still available, surely Metochites would have been one of them. Given that Barlaam also spent time in the Latin-speaking West, it may also be worth commenting briefly on Latin sources for Stoicism.128 The key sources were, and remain, the works of Cicero and Seneca. We know of a number of works by these authors that are now lost, including some that were rediscovered during the Renaissance but have since disappeared.129 It is also possible that what survives of Seneca’s Epistulae morales constitutes only around two-

See Fryde 2000, 155–156, drawing on Dodds 1957, 24. The manuscript in question, in Vienna, is Vind. supp. phil. gr. 39. 127 Theodore Metochites, Miscellanea (Σημειώσεις γνωμικαί) 12.6.1–3 (Hult 2002, 122– 123). The work has been dated to between 1321 and 1328 (ibid. xiv). 128 On Stoicism in the Latin Middle Ages see, beyond the essay below 191–206, Verbeke 1983; Ebbesen 2004; Ingham 2007; Bray 2018; the relevant chapters in Sellars 2016. For the Latin Church Fathers, see Colish 1990. 129 Petrarch reports having owned a copy of Cicero’s now lost De gloria that had been in his father’s possession; see Sen. 16.1 (trans. Bernardo et al. 1992, ii, 605). 126

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thirds of the original collection.130 Because the ESS is written in Latin, some commentators have assumed it must have relied on Latin sources. Basil Tatakis, for instance, suggested that Barlaam was simply following Seneca.131 That seems unlikely for a number of reasons. First, Barlaam’s source was probably a text in Greek, given that a number of technical terms are simply transliterated from Greek in his text. Second, the technical discussions in the ESS are quite different in character from the discussions of these same topics that we know from Seneca’s extant works such as De vita beata and De ira. A close look at Barlaam’s text reveals far more parallels with the works of Cicero than those of Seneca.132 A slightly different sort of evidence can be found in the works of Boccaccio. At three different places in his Genealogia deorum gentilium, Boccaccio cites material from Chrysippus, explicitly noting that his information came from Paolo da Perugia.133 If this information did not come from readily available Latin sources, such as Cicero, then on what was Paolo drawing? It has been suggested that it may have come from Greek sources relayed to Paolo by Barlaam.134 Could this be taken as evidence that Barlaam had access to material by Chrysippus no longer accessible to us? It would seem highly unlikely that a complete treatise by Chrysippus had survived through to the fourteenth century, but some intermediary source reporting material by Chrysippus may be a more realistic possibility. There is other evidence confirming that Barlaam had access to Greek philosophical texts now lost. In one of his letters, he refers to the Pythagoreans Pantainetos, Brotinos, Philolaos, Charmedes, and Philoxenos.135 While we have information about some of these names, there is no extant evidence for either Pantainetos or Charmedes.136 It seems that Barlaam’s information must have come from a source that is no longer available to us.137 Where these sources

See Reynolds 1965, 17, who notes that Aulus Gellius quotes from the twenty-second book of Seneca’s letters (NA 12.2.3), while the extant collection of 124 letters is divided into twenty books. Reynolds notes that the surviving 124 letters survive in two distinct manuscript traditions (1-88 and 89-124) and suggests that there may have been a third volume of letters, now lost. 131 See Tatakis 1949, 264 (tr. 2003, 219), and, following him, Ross 1974, 142. 132 These are discussed further below, in the interpretative essay on Book 2 of ESS. 133 See Boccaccio, Gen. 1.14 (Solomon 2011, 114–115); 1.25 (ibid. 142–143); 3.3 (ibid. 326–327). 134 See Solomon 2013, 236. 135 See Barlaam’s second letter to Palamas (Ep. Gr. 3), in Schirò 1954, 298, with Sinkewicz 1981, 177. 136 Sinkewicz 1981, 177. 137 Sinkewicz 1981, 178–181, argues that Barlaam’s knowledge of the Pythagorean Brotinos came from Syrianus’ commentary on Aristotle’s Metaphysics and suggests that there are further reasons to assume that Barlaam knew this work. Syrianus’ commentary only survives incomplete – we have his comments on Books 3–4 and 13–14 of the Metaphysics – and so 130

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Introduction

may have come from also remains unclear. Barlaam passed through numerous centres of learning during his career – not just Constantinople but also Thessaloniki, Naples, and the monasteries of southern Italy.138 It is evidently very difficult to make any firm pronouncements on this issue. What seems most likely is that Barlaam had access to a text, most likely in Greek, that either claimed to be by a Stoic or reported extended excerpts of Stoic material, whether anthologized, as in Stobaeus, or summarized, as in Arius Didymus or Diogenes Laertius. This Stoic source is likely to have been Barlaam’s source of information for Theophrastus too, who, according to Fortenbaugh, is presented from a Stoic point of view in ESS 2.13–14.139 But it also seems possible that Barlaam drew on the works of Cicero and there are a number of parallels with passages in the De officiis and Tusculanae disputationes. Barlaam comes across as an independently-minded author, not likely to rely solely on one source. His comment “from many books of the Stoics” affirms as much. But when he uses “Stoics” here, it may be that he is doing so quite loosely, to refer to any text that claims to report their views. The Plan of the Work Barlaam sets forth the plan of the ESS when, at the end of 1.1, he says, “So calling this end (the best human life possible) by the one word ‘happiness’, as others do too, let us ask what it is, and in what things it consists”. The work is divided into two books, with 34 and 16 chapters respectively, which seek to address those questions in turn.

one possibility is that Barlaam had access to a complete copy of the commentary, and his information about the otherwise unknown Pythagoreans came from now lost parts of Syrianus. Whittaker 1980 is sceptical that Barlaam had access to anything unknown to us and accuses him of making up these names. 138 On the libraries at Constantinople, see Padover 1939; Wilson 1967. Note also Staikos 2007 (less academic, but a useful overview). On the libraries of Greek monasteries in southern Italy, see Stone 1939; Staikos 2007, 283–301. Henricus Aristippus, writing in the twelfth century, commented on the richness of the library in Sicily, especially for philosophical works, among which he found the manuscript of Plato that he used for his Latin versions of the Phaedo and Meno (Stone 1939, 334–335). Sicily was of course not far at all from Seminara and it is conceivable that Barlaam gained some of his education there or visited later in life when Bishop of Gerace – but this can be no more than speculation. The more general point in the present context is that there were evidently rich collections of Greek manuscripts, including works of philosophy, in southern Italy in Barlaam’s day. 139 See Fortenbaugh 2011, 280, who writes, “Barlaam is following a Stoic source that reflects a later stage in the controversy between the Stoics and Peripatetics concerning emotional response. Theophrastus has become, as it were, a straw-man, whose view of emotion was characterized by the Stoics in ways favorable to their own position. […] Barlaam is presenting a Stoic version of Theophrastus’ understanding of emotional response.” The relevant passage in ESS 2.13–14 is printed by Fortenbaugh et al. as Theophrastus fr. 447 FHSG.

Introduction

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Book 1, then, answers the question ‘What is happiness?’ Claiming that human happiness must be made up of things which are distinctively human, Barlaam examines all the things which lay claim to being parts of human happiness. In the end, only virtue and the actions which come from virtue pass the test. Much of Book 1 is devoted to a refutation of the Peripatetic view of happiness, which includes bodily and external goods together with virtue in its definition of happiness. Following the chief topic of Book 1, Barlaam offers a brief excursus on the relationship between the happiness spoken of by the Stoics and that spoken of by the Platonists. Book 2 seeks to answer the question ‘In what does happiness consist?’ Barlaam claims that the soul has two powers, one intellectual and the other appetitive. He then sets forth three features of the soul. Happiness consists in the good condition of these three features, when that is combined with an appetite consistent with that condition. That good condition is called ‘constancy’. Barlaam puts departures from that ideal on a scale of disturbances. In this book, too, his chief opponents appear to be the Peripatetics, for he argues strongly against their notion that disturbances should be moderated. The manuscript ends Book 2 with three asterisks – * * * – which might be taken to indicate that the text copied is incomplete. Indeed, there is no closing inscription to match the “Partis Primae Finis” that closes Book 1. One might also note that Book 2 as we have it is a good deal shorter than Book 1. There are, then, multiple reasons to wonder whether the text of the ESS that we have is in fact complete.

I. Text and Translation

Note on the Text The text of the Ethica secundum Stoicos (ESS) is found in only one manuscript, Clm. 111 of the Bavarian State Library (Bayerische Staatsbibliothek) in Munich, Germany. The manuscript contains works by a number of different authors and is listed in the Munich catalogue under the heading “Ivonis Carnotensis variarum epistolarum liber”. It is described in K. Halm, G. von Laubmann, and W. Meyer, Catalogus codicum latinorum Bibliothecae Regiae Monacensis, Tom. I Pars I. Codices num. 1–2329 complectens (Munich: Sumptibus Bibliothecae Regiae, 1892), 29. The ESS has been printed three times previously: Canisius, H. 1601–1604. Antiquae Lectionis. 6 vols. Ingolstadt: Andreas Angermaier, vi, 79–110. Basnage, J. 1725. Thesaurus Monumentorum Ecclesiasticorum et Historicorum, sive Henrici Canisii Lectiones Antique. 4 vols. Amsterdam: Rudolph and Gerhard Wetstein, iv, 405– 422. Migne, J.-P. 1857–1866. Patrologiae Cursus Completus … Series Graeca. 162 vols. Paris: Migne, cli, cols 1341–1364.

An extract, ESS 2.13–14, has also been printed, with a facing translation, as text 447 in FHSG, ii, 272–277. This edition, initially prepared for a doctoral dissertation (Hogg 1997), is based on an examination of the manuscript that took place over a three-day period in the summer of 1996. The manuscript text has been compared with the text printed in Migne’s PG. Most of the variations between the manuscript and the text in PG consist of changes in word order, capitalization, and punctuation. With rare exceptions, the text that follows is identical to the manuscript. Key to the apparatus: M R R* {351V}

The reading of Migne, PG cli The reading of the manuscript, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek Clm. 111 The reading of the corrected manuscript The pagination of the manuscript The pagination of Migne’s edition

Note on the Text

29

Other abbreviations used in the apparatus: conj. emend. mg. ms. + 213 (?)

[…]

conjecture emendation margin manuscript The source which follows omits the words in the apparatus The source which follows adds the words in the apparatus The source which follows changes the order of the words in the apparatus The source which follows appears to have the reading Words enclosed in angle brackets are an emendation to the text Words enclosed in square brackets are additions to clarify the text

Ethica secundum Stoicos Pars prima [Cap. I] Beatitudo, quid dicatur. [Cap. II] Vera Beatitudo Hominis, ut homo est. [Cap. III] Vera Beatitudo augeri non potest. [Cap. IV] Beatitudo hominis, ut homo est, ex quibus potissimum constet. [Cap. V] Quid est Beatitudo Hominis vera, et quid eius Miseria. [Cap. VI] Virtus quid. [Cap. VII] A Beatitudine hominis, ut homo est, omnes artes excluduntur. [Cap. VIII] Vera Beatitudo hominis, ut homo est, in quibus potissimum sita. [Cap. IX] Scientia in bonis hominis minime locanda. [Cap. X] Quae hominibus et Bestiis communia, non in Bonis hominis, ut homo est, collocanda. [Cap. XI] Miserrimi, definitio, aut quis verè Miser dicatur. [Cap. XII] Quae in Bonis hominis jure habenda censeantur. [Cap. XIII] Bona corporea externa, ad Beatitudinem hominis, ut homo est: non pertinent. [Cap. XIV] Quae Forma Beatitudinis includantur. [Cap. XV] Secunda et Tertia, quae vocantur, num formae quaerendae Beatitudinis includi debeant. [Cap. XVI] Beatus qualis esse debeat. [Cap. XVII] Quid in se contineat Beatitudo. [Cap. XVIII] Ad perfectam Beatitudinem num Secunda et Tertia, sint necessaria. [Cap. XIX] Collatio duorum non Beatorum. [Cap. XX] Virtutum acquisitio utri difficilior. [Cap. XXI] In Virtutum acquisitione uter fortior. [Cap. XXII] Virtutum actio in quibus potissimum bonis consistat. [Cap. XXIII] Divisio Bonorum et corporis et quae Externa vocantur. [Cap. XXIV] De Membro Primo. [Cap. XXV] Secundum Membrum. Indolentia et Voluptas, non beatitudo.

Ethics according to the Stoics Part One 1. What is called ‘happiness’? 2. True, distinctively human happiness. 3. True happiness cannot be increased. 4. From what things distinctively human happiness is chiefly composed. 5. What true human happiness and human misery are. 6. What virtue is. 7. All technical skills are excluded from distinctively human happiness. 8. In what things true, distinctively human happiness is principally found. 9. Science must not be placed among human goods. 10. Things which are common to men and beasts must not be placed among distinctively human goods. 11. The definition of ‘most miserable’, or who is called ‘truly miserable’. 12. What things may be thought to be justly regarded as among human goods. 13. Bodily [and] external goods do not pertain to distinctively human happiness. 14. What things are included in the form of happiness. 15. Whether the things which are called secondary and tertiary [goods] should be included in the form of happiness to be sought. 16. What sort of man the happy man should be. 17. What does happiness contain in itself? 18. Whether secondary and tertiary [goods] are necessary for complete happiness. 19. A comparison of two unhappy people. 20. For which one is the acquisition of virtues more difficult? 21. Which of the two is more vigorous in acquiring virtues? 22. In which goods does the action of the virtues chiefly consist? 23. The division of the goods which are called bodily and external. 24. Concerning the first group. 25. The second group. Pleasure and freedom from pain [are] not happiness.

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Chapter Headings

[Cap. XXVI] De bonis et commodis quae tripliciter eveniunt. [Cap. XXVII] Incommodorum Divisio. [Cap. XXVIII] Commodum ex Virtute veniens, expetendum est, et quare? [Cap. XXIX] Non Commoda; sed Affectus erga ea, faciunt ad beatitudinem vel miseriam. [Cap. XXX] Honestum quid. [Cap. XXXI] Utile et Inutile, quid. [Cap. XXXII] Beatum nullum in hac vita, secundum Platonicos. [Cap. XXXIII] Beatitudinis Divisio. [Cap. XXXIV] Naturalia bona, quomodo in nobis perficiantur.

Pars secunda [Cap. I] Animi vis quotuplex. [Cap. II] De Vera et Falsa opinione, Boni et Mali. [Cap. III] Malefica voluntas, quotuplex. [Cap. IV] Benefica voluntas, quotuplex. [Cap. V] Num tria praedicta, Verum Iudicium, Aequabilitas mentis, et Benefica voluntas, simul in animo, aut Appetitiva vi concurrere possint. [Cap. VI] Praedictorum septem Complexiones. [Cap. VII] De Perturbationibus: et quae Perturbationes appellentur. [Cap. VIII] Tres Complexiones reliquae ad quid utiles. [Cap. IX] Perturbationum Divisio. [Cap. X] Earumdem Divisio altera. [Cap. XI] Perturbationum definitio. [Cap. XII] Constantia, quid? [Cap. XIII] Perturbationeum et Constantiarum differentia. [Cap. XIV] De Perturbatione Theophrasti quaestio, Duplex. [Cap. XV] Perturbatio an omnino evellenda. [Cap. XVI] Perturbationes, num exstirpari possint?

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26. Concerning ‘goods’, namely advantages, which come about in three ways. 27. The division of disadvantages. 28. Should advantages coming from virtue be sought, and why? 29. Not advantages themselves, but the dispositions they produce, make for happiness or misery. 30. What is moral value? 31. What is ‘useful’ and ‘useless’? 32. According to the Platonists, [there is] no happiness in this life. 33. The division of happiness. 34. How natural goods are perfected in us.

Part Two 1. How many kinds of powers of the soul are there? 2. Concerning true and false opinion of good and evil. 3. How many kinds of harmful will are there? 4. How many kinds of good will are there? 5. Whether the three things spoken of before, a true judgement, mental equability, and a favourable will, [can be] together in the soul, or rather can concur with the appetitive power. 6. The seven combinations spoken of. 7. Concerning disturbances, and what things are called disturbances. 8. The uses of the three remaining combinations. 9. The division of disturbances. 10. Another division of the same things. 11. The definition of disturbance. 12. What [is] constancy? 13. The difference between [various kinds of] disturbances and constancies. 14. A twofold question about Theophrastus’ ‘disturbance’. 15. Whether disturbance should be completely evaded. 16. Can disturbances be uprooted?

ETHICA SECUNDUM STOICOS composita per D BARLAAMUM DE SEMINARIA EPISCOPUM Gyracensem ex pluribus voluminibus eorumdem Stoicorum sub compendio. PARS PRIMA [Cap. I] Beatitudo, quid dicatur. Hominum, alium alio, secundum quod homo est, melius vivere putamus. Et statuum hominum, alium eligibiliorem, alium minus eligendum arbitramur. Ergo cum natura nostra sit finita, et non sit infinitae bonitatis capax; aliam alia meliorem vitam ratione sumentes, non ad infinitum procedemus; sed perveniemus postremo ad aliquem terminum bene vivendi: quem iam transcendere natura nostra de sui conditione minime valeat. Quamvis enim non habemus1, quem assignabimus, purè ad eum pervenisse: tamen, quia substantiam et vitam Natura limitatam habemus: necesse est etiam, summum gradum nostrae perfectionis et optimum statum vivendi, secundum quod proportionalitas nostra exigit: eadem natura praefixum et notum esse. Nam opinari finitam naturam, ad infinitum proficere et per{341V}fici, suos non excedendo limites, posse: non solum est contra communes notiones, sed etiam tollit omnem appetitum. Siquidem expetendorum extremum non est, ubi se appetitus, novissime figat. Hunc igitur terminum, et hanc optimam, pro ut possibile est, Hominis vitam, uno verbo, sicut et alii, Beatitudinem appellantes; queramus quid sit, et in quibus consistat. Inde autem suscipiamus exordium.

1

habemus R | habeamus M

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[Cap. II] Vera Beatitudo Hominis, ut homo est. Veram Hominis Beatitudinem querimus. Talis autem, non potest2 esse, nisi sit Hominis, ut homo est. Nam si assignabimus hominis Beatitudinem, quae non erit hominis, ut homo est: non erit vera. Ergo oportet, ut constet ex omnibus illis bonis, quae sunt hominis, inquantum homo est. Quia si ex aliis, et non ex talibus; non habebimus quod querimus. Etenim si non ex omnibus huiusmodi bonis constabit, non erit SUMMUM Bonum. Quia si qua est Beatitudo, cui desunt aliqua hominis, inquantum homo est; manifestum est; quòd illis additis augebitur. Sed q uod augeri potest: summum non est. Beatitudinem verò quam querimus, Summum hominis bon um esse volumus. Igitur ex omnibus dictis bonis constabit, ac verò ex solis. Quia si qua sunt alia bona hominis: non tamen ut homo est: manifestum est, quod illa addita illi Beatitudini, quae con{342R}stat ex bonis hominis, ut homo est; non augebunt eam, ut propterea sit magis beatitudo hominis ut homo est: quia in tali etiam compositione tota ex utriusque generis bonis complexio; non diceretur, nec intelligeretur, nec esset beatitudo hominis ut homo est, nisi3 ex parte illorum bonorum hominis, quae essent bona hominis, inquantum homo est. [Cap. III] Vera Beatitudo augeri non potest. Vera ergo Beatitudo, additis illis augeri non potest. Et merito. Nulla enim aggregatio augeri potest4, additione aliarum rerum, genere diversarum. Nec enim lineae additis punctis; nec superficies additis lineis; nec solida, additis superficiebus; nec diversorum humidorum commixtio,5 additis coloribus vel saporibus augentur. [Cap. IV] Beatitudo hominis, ut homo est, ex quibus potissimum constet. Ergo si bona hominis, ut homo est, genere diversa sunt, ab illis, quae non sunt hominis ut homo est; manifestum est, quod Beatitudo, quae constet6 ex bonis hominis, ut homo est, non augebitur adiectione illorum bonorum, quae non sunt hominis, inquantum homo est. Itaque perfecta et Summa hominis Beatitudo, ex illis solis constabit; ut iam possimus formam huius beatitudinis brevissime comprehendentes, talem eius definitionem ad que{342V}renda et demonstranda supponere.

potest R, M | poterit R mg. 3 nisi - R 4 augeri potest M | augeri non potest R 5 commixtio R | commistio M 6 constet R | constat M 2

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[Cap. V] Quid est Beatitudo Hominis vera, et quid eius Miseria. Veram Beatitudinem hominis esse cumulatam complexionem omnium bonorum hominis, ut homo est: Ac per consequens, Summam Miseriam hominis esse cumulatam complexionem omnium malorum hominis, ut homo est: ut cui hoc inest, miserrimus homo dicatur. Est autem Beatitudo per se expetenda; et miseria fugienda. [Cap. VI] Virtus quid. Supponatur etiam et Virtutis definitio: quae talis secundum omnes philosophantes est. Virtutem esse optimam affectionem Animi, ex qua proficiscuntur bonae et laudabiles voluntates, sententiae, actiones: quarum quaelibet suo loco optima est; quae et eos, in quibus est, bonos7 et laudabiles efficit. [Cap. VII] A Beatitudine hominis, ut homo est, omnes artes excluduntur. His praemissis, patet quòd omnes et universae opifi cum artes excluduntur ab illis bonis, quae ad formam Beatitudinis pertinent. Sicut enim in omnibus aliis illa bona intelligimus, uniuscujuscunque rei, ut illa8 res est; quae ipsam rem {343R} bonam et laudabilem faciunt, et à quibus ipsa res iurè laudatur, et bona appellatur: Ita et hominis bona, ut homo est, illa tantum intelligimus, quae ipsum hominem bonum et laudabilem faciunt, et à quibus iure laudatur et bonus appellatur. [Cap. VIII] Vera Beatitudo hominis, ut homo est, in quibus potissimum sita. Sed Beatitudo hominis, sita est in illis bonis tantum, quae sunt hominis, ut homo est. Sola ergo illa formaliter perficiunt beatam vitam, quae hominem vere bonum et laudabilem faciunt: et propter quae iure laudatur, et Bonus appellatur. Sed ex nulla opificum arte haec homo meretur. Quantumcunque enim est homo Faber bonus, aut Cerdo, aut Scriptor: non tamen ratione huius artis Bonus homo9 appellatur; vel ut Sapiens homo, aut prudens, aut Intelligens, simpliciter laudatur. Ergo ad formam Beatitudinis, opificum artes, minime sunt vocande. [Cap. IX] Scientia in bonis hominis minime locanda. Similiterque Scientiarum, quarum finis est non extrinsecus effectus; sed intrinseca visio veritatis; licet in bonis ipsius mentis, ut Mens est, omnis Scientia computetur: Tamen quaecumquae tales sunt, ut ab eis non possit homo Bonus

bonos R | bones M 8 illa res R* | illa, res R 9 homo - M 7

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simpliciter10 appellari; vel ut homo Sapiens et Intelligens, aut Prudens iure laudari: {343V} non sunt in illis bonis habendae, quae Beatitudinem ipsius hominis, inquantum homo est, constituunt. Hominem enim non ipsam mentem aut rationem appellamus; sed, Animal rationis et mentis particeps: cuius nunc Beatitudinem quaerimus, rem videlicet, qua optime, dum vivitur, vita eius ducatur. [Cap. X] Quae hominibus et Bestiis communia, non in Bonis hominis, ut homo est, collocanda. Atvero, nec quaecumque sunt, aut esse possunt, communia hominis et bestiarum; in illis bonis sunt habenda, ex quibus hominis Beatitudo constat. Illa enim omnia, ut praedefinitum est, sunt bona hominis, ut homo est. Sed illa quae sunt, aut esse possunt, communia hominis et bestiarum; et per consequens, quae gratia istorum requiruntur; ut Effectiva, aut conservativa, et si quae eorumdem virtutes esse dicuntur, non sunt Bona hominis, ut homo est. Et ideo nec in illis bonis sunt habenda, quae ad Beatitudinem pertinent. [Cap. XI] Miserrimi, definitio, aut quis verè Miser dicatur. Item, quia Miserrimus homo, nec ille est, qui nusquam est; nec ille qui homo non est; Equus enim non dicitur homo miserrimus: manifestum est, quòd sunt aliqua communia hominis Beati et Miserrimi. Cum verò Miserrimus dic atur, qui habet omnia mala hominis, ut {344R} homo est, ita ut nihil boni hominis, ut homo est, ei relinquatur: Sequitur nihil eorum, quae sunt, aut esse possunt communia Beati et Miserrimi, quaeq´ue gratia eorum requiruntur bonum esse hominis, ut homo est. Quare nec in illis huiusmodi sunt habenda, quae Definitione Beatitudinis comprehenduntur. [Cap. XII] Quae in Bonis hominis jure habenda censeantur. Item. Si illa bona tantum faciant per se beatum hominem,11 quae ipsum hominem ut ostensum est, bonum simpliciter et laudabilem faciunt, et propter quae iure laudatur, et homo bonus appellatur: Omnia verò huiusmodi sunt volunta ria, et in potestate hominis iacentia, et amitti invitis nequeuntia. Nullum ergo fragile, et caducum, et extraneum, in nostra potestate non exsistens12, et exstingui, et amitti potens invitis: habendum est, in eo genere, quod vita Beata complectitur.

Bonus simpliciter R | 2 1 M 11 beatum hominem R | 2 1 M 12 in nostra potestate non exsistens M | in nostram potestatem existens R 10

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[Cap. XIII] Bona corporea externa, ad Beatitudinem hominis, ut homo est: non pertinent. Patet igitur ex conclusis; quòd nec indolentia, nec corporea voluptas, nec omnino aliquid eorum, quae dicuntur corporea bona et externa; ad Beatitudinem, quam querimus pertinet. Horum enim alia, sunt communia hominis et bestiarum: alia, Beati hominis, et {344V} miserrimi. Et omnia communiter sunt extra nostram potestatem, et fragilia, et caduca, et exstingui, et amitti invitis possunt. Et nec omnia simul; nec aliqua illorum, sua praesentia hominem bonum faciunt, vel ab eis homo iure laudatur, et bonus appellatur. Ergo cum huiusmodi omnia exclusa essent à Beatitudine: et ipsa corporea et externa, necessario excluduntur. [Cap. XIV] Quae Forma Beatitudinis includantur. Itaque circumscriptis omnibus aliis, de quibus dubitari possit, ne in Forma Beatitudinis includantur; relictis verò solis animi virtutibus, et eorum laudabilibus actionibus; quae videlicet, nec hominis, et13 belluarum; nec beati et miserrimi communes esse possunt: et amitti invitis nobis non possunt; quaeque vere14 hominem bonum et laudabilem faciunt, et à quibus homo iure laudatur, et bonus15 appellatur: Manifestum est, quod in sola vita virtuosa Beatitudo consistit; et virtus seipsa est contenta, ad bene beateque, vivendum. Reliquorum verò, nil16 ad veram beatitudinem pertinet; Sed dum homo virtutibus est imbutus et omnes suas cogitationes et actiones et vitam virtutibus regulariter et moderatur et dirigit: omnibus aliis rebus nascentibus et cadentibus, et quoquo modo se habentibus; nil adimitur aut additur ei quo magis minusve sit beautus. {345R} [Cap. XV] Secunda et Tertia, quae vocantur, num formae quaerendae Beatitudinis includi debeant. De Scientiis quidem et Artibus, nulli Philosophorum dubitant, utrum necessarium sit, aut omnes scientias, aut aliquas artes, in forma quaerendae Beatitudinis includi. De dictis verò corporeis bonis et externis, quae Secun da et Tertia vocantur, magna questio est.17 Quidam enim nil praeter virtutes Bonum esse hominis18, inquantum homo19 est, non dubitant. Sed adimentes praedictae definitioni, postremam additionem,

et R*, M | nec R 14 vere R | vero M 15 Bonus R* | bonus R 16 nil R | nihil M 17 magna questio est R | 1 3 2 M 18 Bonum esse hominis R | 3 1 2 M 19 homo R* | hominis R 13

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et simpliciter ponentes Beatitudinem, complexionem esse, omnium20 bonorum hominis: nituntur aggregare ad Beatam vitam explendam; et corporea omnia et externa; quasi sine istis nequaquam illa integra valeat esse. Qui vehementer errare convincuntur, ex his quae communiter et naturaliter de Beata vita sentimus. Beatitudinem enim tamquam Summum bonum omnes intelligimus; quo ipsa res summè bona suo genere efficitur. Ergo et hominis summum bonum21 intelligendum est, cuius praesentia22 summè bonus homo efficitur. Porro Virtutum praesentia, nullo adiuncto alio, summe bonus homo efficitur.23 Solae ergo virtutes Beatitudinis obtinent principatum. [Cap. XVI] Beatus qualis esse debeat. Item: Volumus illum, quem perfecte Beatum {345V} intelligimus, tutum esse, inexpugnabilem24, septum munitum, suis bonis inerrabiliter confidentem, semper habere quod vult, et numquam quod non vult: numquam dubitare, utrum adest sibi integre beatitudo an non; nunquam timere, ne invitus amittat eam; forti et robusto et excelso et magno animo esse, semperque in animo tranquillitatem et securitatem, et placidissimam pacem et constantem hilaritatem habere, et terrorîbus et angoribus et maestitia vacuum esse. [Cap. XVII] Quid in se contineat Beatitudo. Haec autem omnia continet sententia confectae conclusionis. Nam si quis cum sit virtuosus, ita conclusam de Beatitudine sententiam, vivam et efficacem: habet et totum animum per omnes partes penetrantem, ut, et omnis appetitus consonus sit25 illi, et aliqua repugnans opinio non sit in26 animo latens, quae possit aliquando ad contrarium appetitum animum distrahere. Hic cum nihil habeat in bonis nisi virtutem, et quòd ea agatur: Reliquarum vero rerum, nihil sibi bonum vel malum reputet: videatque quod solum bonum novit semper sibi totum praesens et amitti invito non patiens: necesse est ut omnia illa ei contingant; quae exposuimus communiter de verè27 Beato intelligi. Talis enim tutus est, inexpugnabilis, inerrabiliter {346R} illis quae sua bona scit, confidens: semper habet quod vult, et numquam quod non vult. Vacat enim vitiis, quae non vult habere, et si terrores, et maestitae, et angores, et aliae perturbationes, quae contingunt hominibus28, propter corporeas et externas res: quia putant eas

omnium - M 21 hominis summum bonum R | 2 1 3 M 22 + homo M 23 Porro … efficitur. R | - M 24 inexpugnabilem: above the g, the ms. has ^. 25 consonus sit R | 2 1 M 26 in - M 27 de verè R | 2 1 M 28 hominibus R | ominibus M 20

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malas vel bonas esse et pertinere ad suum bonum vel malum statum; manifestum est, quod si quis huiusmodi opionionem et appetitum ab iisdem rebus penitus removerit; nihil, quoquo modo acciderit, terrere et perturbare eum valebit, aut angi et à constantia egredi et maerere faciet. Et ideo semp er erit tranquillus sibique placatus. Propterea fortis, magnanimusque, semper invictus, à nullo frangi et demitti animo patiens. Maxime enim scit humanas res contemnere et ab eis nec efferri nec frangi: qui eas nec bonas nec malas sui gratia iudicat. Similiter et quaecumque alia de Beato intelligimus29. Praedictae conclusioni plenè concurrunt. [Cap. XVIII] Ad perfectam Beatitudinem num Secunda et Tertia, sint necessaria. Si verò supponamus aliquem cum bonis animi etiam qu ae dicuntur bona corporis et externa omnia habere, et sit sibi illa in animo sententia insita, et appetitus sententiae congruus, quod ista Secunda et Tertia ad perficiendam plenam beatitudinem sunt necessaria: {346V} Impossibile est, ei omnia illa concurrere, quae de Beato intelligimus. Et ideo per consequens, cum credat habere se omnia, quae suppetant ad beatam vitam; non erit tamen beatus. Nam cum sciat vires, valetudinem, sanitatem, velocitatem, venustatem, integritatem sensuum, vacuitatem doloris, denique vitam ipsam: Praeterea imperia, regna30, magistratus, dignitates, honores, facultates, copias, opes, potentias, divitias, subditorum benevolentiam, optimorum amicorum, et consanguineorum societatem: haec omnia caduca sua natura31 esse; et simul invito amitti posse, et eorum contraria evenire: quo modo Beatus erit, si tot bonis, sine quibus non reputat integram beatitudinem sibi posse adesse non confidit? Et tot quae reputat esse mala, et Beatitudinem violantia sibi impendere videt? Ita enim Sapiens et Intelligens et illa bona permanere sibi, et non delabi appetens, cum vult esse semper Beatus: quomodo non semper terrorum, et angorum, et sollicitudinis plenum animum habebit? Atverò nec contemnere et despicere res humanas faci le poterit: qui ad Beatitudinem vel miseriam aliquod pondus eas habere crediderit. Sed sine despicientia rerum humanarum fortitudo, et magnanimitas et excelsitas, non videntur posse in animo generari32: quibus virtutibus instructus virtuosus in omni Fortuna, aequabilitatem conservat. Carebit igitur, qui Beatum se esse putat, istis virtutibus. Ac etiam potest {347R} contingere casus, in quo quum salva sint sibi omnia bona externa: tamen ipse ignoret, utrum salva sint nec ne; dubitabit ergo, utrum adest sibi integra Beatitudo. Ergo non habebit quod vult. Vellet enim non dubitare. Concutietur ergo tranquillitas et pax animi istius, à constantia sua. Non

intelligimus R | intelligentes M 30 imperia, regna R | 2 1 M 31 sua natura R | 2 1 M 32 generari M | generare R 29

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ergo Tutus, ut dominus bonorum suorum. Non inexpugnabilis, non quietus; nec Beatus ergo. Sententia ergo illa quae corporea et externa aggregat, ad Beatitudinem, quem supponimus esse beatum: facit non esse beatum. Falsa ergo est. Nihil enim verum est, Ex quo impossibile oritur. Magis autem dignitas et splendor sententiae, quam defendimus, inde apparebit. [Cap. XIX] Collatio duorum non Beatorum. Supponantur duo non Beati, similem defectum in animo, in corpore, et in externis patientes: et illa quae videntur esse excellentiora corporis, et externorum nequaquam habentes: et aliquorum ex eis quae desunt desperata sit acquisitio et ita omnibus quae mentis, quae naturae, quae fortunae sunt, per omnia adaequatis: sit Uni33 illorum persuasum, quòd tota Beatitudo in virtutibus animi vertitur: Alii verò tripartita illa sententia, et habeant parem appetitum Beatitudinis; manifestum igitur est quòd Primus minus aegrè34, et minus anxie, et Jucundius, et tranquillius ducet suam vitám, {347V} quàm secundus; Tribus ex causis; quòd minora sibi videt deesse ad plenam Beatitudinem. Et quòd non est desperata sibi illorum acquisitio: et quòd eorum quae habet, tamquam perti nentia ad Beatitudinem, non existimat aliqua esse in potestate Fortunae: quibus delapsis, miserior ipse sit. Ille verò non modo plura deesse sibi ad explendam Beatitudinem videt, et de illis, quae habet, aliqua sentit, posse delabi, quo ipse sit miserior; sed etiam ad integram pervenire aliquando Beatitudinem, desperatum est penitus35 sibi. [Cap. XX] Virtutum acquisitio utri difficilior. Atvero et acquisitio Virtutum plures habet in isto difficultates quàm in illo. Prima enim difficultas est, posse cognoscere, quantum bona animi, ad complendam Beatitudinem, excellunt bona corporis, et ista externa, et proportionaliter dispartiri et compensare36 istis appetitum Beatitudinis. Illo verò noster, cum Beatitudinis sententiam et to tum appetitum ad solas virtutes mittat: nil ei huiusmodi difficultatis est; quia etiam vehementiorem appetitum ad virtutes habet; quàm ille qui aliquas partes, paris appetitus, corporeis tribuit et externis. At et hoc manifestum est, quòd quanto amplius diliguntur corp orea et externa: tanto magis impeditur ad acquirendas virtutes. Facilior est ergo nostro Virtu{348R}tum acquisitio.

Uni R* | uni R 34 aegrè R* | (?) aegra R 35 penitus M | poenitus R 36 compensare R | cempensare M 33

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[Cap. XXI] In Virtutum acquisitione uter fortior. Nec illud dubium est, quin ille affectus animi, qui ita sit constructus et firmus, ut possit in omni casu et Fortuna, aequibilitatem conservare; ita quod nec adversitatibus frangatur; vel molle aliquid et abiectum et effeminatum et anxium patiatur: nec secundis rebus effusa laetitia gestiat, laevitateque ad arrogantiam et superbiam se efferat: Iste inquam affectus melior et beatior sit, quàm ille qui non tantae con stantiae est: sed manifestum est, quod duorum suppositorum virorum nostro facilimum est, exercitatione et consuetudine adiuncta, pervenire ad eiusmodi affectum. Illi verò tripartit o, aut impossible, aut difficillimum est. Ergo si nostra ista sententia in meliori37 omnimodè conditione facit esse hominem: quàm illa tripartita; non dubium est, quae magis est approbanda. [Cap. XXII] Virtutum actio in quibus potissimum bonis consistat. Atverò: nec illum errorem oportet incurrere quòd ac tiones virtutum, in solis bonis corporeis38 et externis versantur: in contrariis vero non: ut si beate vivere est virtuose agere. Hoc autem non potest esse: nisi in bonis corporis et externis necessario concludatur, quanto ista dilabuntur, tanto vitam Beatam defici. {348V} Nam non est casus in vita, nec Fortuna, nec tempus in quo non possit vir bonus virtuose agere. Decenter enim et rationabiliter cogitare, iacere, sedere, stare, ambulare, tacere, loqui, tribuere corpori necessaria, videre vel audire aliquid, membra corporis movere, alicui assentiri39 et parere; vel pro conservanda constantia et fide dolores et damna non recusare: quibus non potest virtuosus, ullo tempore omnino carere: actiones virtutum sunt, et à virtute proficiscuntur. Omitto dicere quod Fortitudo, et magnitudo, et excelsitas animi in adversis rebus, totam suam vim habent, scireq´ue bene adversitatibus uti: summae Prudentiae est. Nec non multa, quae videntur esse negationis, locum habent summarum actionum. Cum enim virtuosus pauper et ignobilis, deformis, et claudus et infirmus; nobiles, et divites admiretur, potentesque et sanos: et se miserum, et illos beatos et felices reputet: et ideo odio eos habeat et invideat eis40, cupiditateq´ue immensa ardeat et angore et tristitia, et moerore tabescat, et deprimatur, Divinamque providentiam opinionis errore, aut nullam, aut iniustam esse existimet41: vir bonus et totus nostrae sententiae, cum in simili casu est, nil istorum patitur, nec reputat illos, in meliori esse conditione, quàm se. Et ideo tranquillo vivit animo, et minime turbulento, et ad interiores actiones; et si quae sunt exteriores, maxime expedito. Tali igitur {349R} firmitati, et constantiae,

meliori R | meliore M 38 corporeis R mg. | corporis R, M 39 assentiri R | assentire M 40 eis R | iis M 41 existimet R* | existimat R 37

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animiq´ue42 actiones, quas possint43 agere virtuosi divites et potentes: non sunt postponendae. Dum ergo Bonus vir vivit et est, non vacat virtuosis actionibus. Quare nec isto modo corporis, quae dicuntur et Externa bona, verae beatitudinis partes erunt. [Cap. XXIII] Divisio Bonorum et44 corporis et quae Externa vocantur. Ut autem non videamur de nomine tantum laborare velle, Commoda45 nominantes, quae omnes Bona appellant: ut vocabuli mutatione videantur à Beatitudine46 segregari; ita sit procedendum. Omnium quae Bona corporis et externa dicuntur, Alia referuntur ad “nostram”47 ipsam substantiam. Quae quidem ita se habent, ut sine illis esse et vivere non valeamus. Alia verò ad hoc habent suam vim, ut minus moleste et delectabilius vitam ducamus. Quae quidem ad Indolentiam ultimò et voluptatem, qu ae per corporeos48 sensus percipitur referuntur. [Cap. XXIV] De Membro Primo. Ergo ut de Primo membro prius dicatur; quia substantia nostra et ipsum esse nostrum bonum quidem nobis est: Tale verò bonum, ut non sit aliqua pars formae Beatitudinis; sed ut communiter, tam summae miseriae, quàm beatitudini49 subiiciatur. Dif{349V}fert enim hominem esse, et beatum hominem esse, et miserum hominem esse: ut ipse homo utrique subiici valeat: Sequitur necessario, quòd et ipsa bona corporea et externa; quae ut simpliciter simus50 et vivamus requiruntur: Similiter sint et nominentur bona. Ut videlicet, non in forma beatitudinis ponantur; sed tamquam communia miseriae atque51 beatitudini submittantur. Itaque sicut nostrum esse refertur quidem ad beatitudinem, non tamen ut pars; sed ut subiectum, sine quo forma non existit52. Simili modo, et illa bona quae ad ipsum nostrum esse referuntur, mediante ipso nostro esse, ad beatitudinem referenda sunt. Igitur sicut qui est, in quantum est, non est beatior illo, qui non est: ita et qui habet plura, de huiusmodi bonis non ideo est magis

animiq´ue R | animi M 43 possint R* | possunt R 44 et - M 45 Commoda R* | commoda R 46 videantur à Beatitudine R | 2 3 1 M 47 “nostram” R | nostram M 48 corporeos R* | corporos R 49 beatitudini R* | beatitudinis R 50 simus R* | scimus R 51 atque - M 52 existit R | exsistit M 42

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beatus, quàm qui habet pau ciora. Beatior53 enim et minus beatus homo efficitur, additione et subtractione, illorum bonorum; quae sunt partes formae beatitudinis. Nostrum54 vero esse, et bona, quae ad ipsum referuntur, non sunt partes formae Beatitudinis, pro ut ostensum est. Sed videatur si placet reliquum membrum praemissae divisionis. [Cap. XXV] Secundum Membrum. Indolentia et Voluptas, non beatitudo. Et Primum ostendendum sit quod Indolentia et Voluptas corporis in forma beatitu{350R}dinis, poni minime possunt. Nec enim cum virtutibus beatam vitam explere possunt: nec sine virtutibus. Quòd si sine virtutibus, in summa sede ponerentur: contigeret55 vitiosissimum hominem et penitus depravatum et corruptum animum habentem atque impium et inconstantem; beatum esse: quod est contra communes notiones. Atverò nec cum virtutibus Beatitudinem efficere pos sunt cum enim beatitudo sit optimus totius vitae status: oportet ut constet, non ex discrepantibus interdum et repugnantibus; sed ex concordibus semper et consonis. Bona enim omnia56 amicitia et concordia semper gaudent. Sed inter Indolentiam, et Voluptatem, et virtutes, magna repugnantia ut plurimum est. In plerisque enim impossibile est Indolentiam et voluptatem consequi. Et57 nisi omittamus honestum et decorum et cômmittamus turpe et indecorum. Nam si ubique velimus, quae ratio fortitudinis, Iustitiae, temperantiae, et omnino natura honesti exigit consequi: necessarium est; non solum voluptates postponere; sed etiam magnos subire labores, et acerbos sustinere dolores. Et econtrario si hoc statueremus in nobis ut omnibus modis voluptatem corporis, et indolentiam sequeremur: nullum scaelus esset, nullum facinus, nullum denique malum; ad quod suscipiendum, licentia proposita, non impelleremur. Nec ergo cum vir{350V}tutibus, nec sine, voluptas et indolentia, in forma beatitudinis valent connumerari. Et ideo omnia corporea bona et externa, inquantum referuntur ad ipsam indolentiam et voluptatem, segreganda sunt à forma beatitudinis. Ostensum est autem esse58 hoc idem etiam, inquantum referuntur ad ipsam essentiam. Penitus ergo segregantur ab illis bonis, quae formam Beatitudinis constituunt.

Beatior R | Beatus M 54 Nostrum R | Nostrorum M 55 contigeret R* | contigieret R 56 omnia R* | omnia et R 57 Et - M 58 esse M | est R 53

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[Cap. XXVI] De bonis et commodis quae tripliciter eveniunt. Ista itaque, quae praeter virtutes vulgo bona dicuntur, et à Stoicis Commoda appellantur, et contraria Incommoda Triplici modo eveniunt. Ex Virtute, ex Culpa, ex Neutro. Ex virtute (ut à Commodis incipiam), ut quaecumque homini ab hominibus propter virtutem tribuuntur. Vel, si quis optimum filium habet, cum ipse bene eum59 educavisset. Vel, Res familiaris ex prudentia, sine iniuria acquisita et amplificata. Vel, sanitatis et virium ex abstinentia et diligenti regimine conservatio. Et si qua similia. Ex Culpa. Ut si quis ex60 adulterio bonum genuerit filium. Aut, detrahendo aliis61 injuria suas res augeat. Et si qua huiusmodi. Ex Neutro. Ut quaecumque natura, Fortuna, Casu, successione, Divinitus: vel quoquo modo alicui sine opera sua eveniunt. [Cap. XXVII] Incommodorum Divisio. {351R} Item de Incommodis, eadem divisio est. Nam ex virtute contingunt; ut quaecumque damna, doloresque alicui inferuntur, propter iustitiae instantiam. Vel, si quis, pauper est cum suas facultates, ad opera iustitiae, et pietatis62 et liberalitatis transtulisset, vel delabi eas studio meliorum rerum dimisisset. Ex culpa contingunt, ut quaecumquae alicui incommoda inferuntur, propter ab eo anteactas iniurias; et si ipse aliqua perturbatione concitatus; aut non propulsavit interitum à charissimis cum posset; aut ipse intulit eis interitum. Aut, rei familiaris, pigritia, inertia, ignavia, delapsus; et corporis commodorum voluptate devicto, ex pravo regimine amissio. Et multa talia. Neutro. Quae nec virtute, nec vitio, nec penitus ex aliqua opera contingunt: ut corporeorum naturales defectus; et quaecumque incommoda, casu, fortuna, vel ab hominibus injuria commotis inferuntur. [Cap. XXVIII] Commodum ex Virtute veniens, expetendum est, et quare? Ex Tribus igitur modis, Primus, quo virtute Commoda vel Incommoda , cum evenerint, sua praesentia augent per se beatitudinem; sed propter eorum63 sumpsionem virtuosam dispositionem et actionem.

bene eum R | 2 1 M 60 ex R* | - R 61 aliis - M 62 et pietatis R | - M 63 The sense of the passage seems to be that, even though advantages do not by themselves add to happiness, nevertheless in the cases where pursuing them increases virtue, they are the occasion for increased virtue (and, since virtue alone is happiness, for increased happiness as well). 59

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Secundus modus, quo ex culpa commoda vel {351V} Incommoda sumuntur; fugiendus et miserabilis est; propter similiter, circa 64 vitiosam dispositionem et actionem . Tertius modus, quo nec virtute, nec culpa, eadem contingunt65, nec ad beatitudinem, nec ad miseriam aliquid ponderis habet: sed cum sint sumpta, quoquomodo commoda vel incommoda, qualiter est eis utendum dicetur, ubi de Virtutibus tractabitur. [Cap. XXIX] Non Commoda; sed Affectus erga ea, faciunt ad beatitudinem vel miseriam. Nunc autem illud sit manifestum, quod nec Commoda beatitudinis, nec Incommoda66 miseriae partes sint; sed affectus et actus et usus virtuosus vel vitiosus, circa utraque acquirenda, sumenda, tuenda, ferenda, utenda, et amittenda, ad Beatitudinem vel Miseriam67 pertinet. Sunt itaque Commoda acquirenda, et tuenda, et utenda, dum licet recte haec fieri: et minime reiicienda: nisi aut ad comparandas, vel gerendas res meliores: aut ad serviendum hominum, quorum decet, utilitati. Econtrario68 vero Incommoda sunt aut69 reiicienda, aut aequo animo ferenda70: nisi aut ad declinanda71 incommodiora et peiora: aut ad consulenda72 decenter hominum utilitati. Sed ad reliqua pergamus. [Cap. XXX] Honestum quid. Positum est in principio73 quod Beatitudo per {352R} se expetenda. Et est ostensum, quod vita Beata, idem est, quod Virtuosa74. Vita ergo Virtuosa per se est expetenda. Est autem et laudabilis, ut situm est in definitione Virtutis75. Sed quod est ita bonum, ut detracto omni emolumento, iure laudari et expeti per se ipsum possit: illud est quod Honestum sentimus. Vita ergo Virtuosa, eadem est honesta. Et quia vita bona et beata, eadem est virtuosa Vita ergo bona et beata, eadem est honesta. Et quia quod honestum est, idem esse bonum

eorum sumpsionem conj.; ms. has eadem. 65 contingunt R* | contigit R 66 Incommoda R* | incommoda R 67 Miseriam R* | miseriam R 68 Econtrario R | E contra M 69 sunt aut R | 2 1 M 70 ferenda R* | (?) ferendi R 71 declinanda M | declinand R 72 consulenda R | consulendum M 73 principio R* | (?) pcinipio R 74 Virtuosa R* | virtuosa R 75 Virtutis R* | virtutis R 64

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nemo dubitat: concluditur econverso, quod quae honesta vita est, eadem est bona et beata et virtuosa. Ac etiam. Si Decorum76 est, quod consentaneum est hominis excellentiae, in eo in quo natura eius à reliquis animantibus differt; et ipsu m Decorum, et quod decet idem virtuti et honestati efficitur. [Cap. XXXI] Utile et Inutile, quid. Deinde de Utili et Inutili dicendum sit. Duplici itaque77 modo utrumque dicitur. Uno, ipsa Commoda vel Incommoda, ut domus, equus, servus, vires, et similia: quae videlicet ad idem cum honestis vel inhonestis non veniunt. Nullum enim commodorum aut incommodorum honestum vel turpe, quo ad hominis beatitudinem est. Alio modo. Utilia et Inutilia, dicuntur ipsae hominis actiones, quae sunt circa commoda {352V} vel incommoda sumenda, utenda, disponenda, ferenda, vel reiicienda. Quae Utilia vel Inutilia, eadem sunt quae honesta et turpia. Nam si omnis turpis actio, defectu78 virtutis proficiscitur: Defectus vero virtutis, ledit79 beatitudinem; ac nemini utile potest esse, quod sit contra suam beatitudinem. Nemini ergo turpis actio utilis est. Et ideo quae utilis est, non est turpis.80 Porro quod sine turpitudine utiliter fit: idem rationabiliter et recte fit. Sed quod rationabiliter et recte fit, etiam honeste fit. Ex quibus concluditur, quòd omnis utilis actio, honesta est. Ac etiam sic81 illud, quod honestum factu est, ad82 beatitudinem pertinet, summae utilitatis est. Conficitur quod omnis honesta actio, utilis est. Sola ergo honesta et virtuosa vita, utilis vita est. Et sola inhonesta et vitiosa inutilis. Igitur sex haec bonum, beatum, virtute confectum, honestum, decorum et utile: Adde si vis rectum, rationabile: ad idem veniunt, et idem fere sonant. Et ideo opposita eorum, scilicet Malum, miserum, vitiosum, inhonestum, turpe, indecorum,83 inutile, peccatum84, irrationabile. Adde si vis pravum, flagitiosum, foedum, Tetrum, detestabile: Omnia haec eiusdem sunt calamitatis. Ex omnibus itaque superioribus fit denique finalis conclusio, pro qua omnia in hac oratione85 praecesserunt, haec:

Decorum R* | Deorum R 77 itaque R | igitur M 78 defectu R | a defectu M 79 ledit R | laedit M 80 Et … turpis. - M 81 sic R | si M 82 ad R | et ad M 83 turpe, indecorum R | 2 1 M 84 peccatum: Above the letters cca the ms. has a lectio incerta. 85 oratione R | ratione M 76

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Conclusio. Quod si quis vitam ducit virtuosam et hone{353R}stam, quomodocumque commoda et incommoda huic contingunt, modo non sua culpa: nihil deest illi ad veram Beatitudinem. Et per consequens, Si quis ita est86 depravatus et corruptus ut nec vestigium aliquod virtutis et honestatis in eo exsistat: huic, quamquam omnibus abundet commodis, nihil deest, ad summam miseriam. [Cap. XXXII] Beatum nullum in hac vita, secundum Platonicos. Hic quidam Platonici, immortalitati animorum operam dantes, et eorum quamdam excellentem faelicitatem imaginantes, eique vitam hanc comparantes; impossibile asserunt in hac vita, beatum hominem esse. Quibus multi assensum praebentes, nos à veritate reputant deviare. Est autem inter nos et ipsos non87 in re controversia; sed in nomine tantum. Non enim eamdem rem utrique Beatitudinem appellamus: ut de eodem negatio et affirmatio88 sit. Namque nos optimam vitam, quae maxime composito competit, secundum quòd hominis natura89 capax est, Beatitudinem appellantes, et nil alienum vel incongruum ei addentes: hanc homines consequi posse asserimus. Illi verò separatorum animorum Beatitudinem conside rantes, merito90 ad illum91 hominem in hac vita exsistentem negant pervenire posse. Ergo utrumque verum est. Nec enim nos illa beatitudine, beati effici, vi naturali, dum vivimus possumus. Nec illis nostra congruit, vel {353V} sufficit Beatitudo. Ac etiam iidem Platonici, multa bona; naturam, et artem, et consuetudinem excellentia, homines Divinitus “posse” consequi92 affirmant: sicut ipse Plato de Poëtica et Divinatione et Amore93 in Phaedro tradit. Non tamen ideo prohibitum erit, ultimum terminum, ad quem ascendere potest vis naturalis Beatitudinem appellari: praesertim cum ita sit hoc vocabulum apud plures usitatum, et non natura nomina rebus posita; sed utentium beneplacito. [Cap. XXXIII] Beatitudinis Divisio. Itaque Prima sit Beatitudo, ipse optimus vitae status; quem ultimo ascendere possumus, transcendere verò vi naturali non valemus. De qua B eatitudine in his libris tractatur.

ita est R | 2 1 M 87 non - R 88 affirmatio R* | appellatio R 89 natura R mg. | - R 90 merito R* | a merito R 91 illum M | illam R 92 “posse” consequi R | consequi possi M 93 Amore R* | amore R 86

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Secunda sit, quae prima supposita adhuc comprehendit: quaecumque94 excellentia bona acquirere homo etiam in hac vita, Divina aspiratione potest, ut Plato in Phaedro docet. Tertia sit, quae suscipit post mortem sapientes, ut idem Plato in Phaedone tradit. Igitur quia illi secundam et tertiam merentur, qui primae participes extiterunt; merito de Prima tantum hunc laborem duximus suscipiendum. [Cap. XXXIV] Naturalia bona, quomodo in nobis perficiantur. Notandum vero sit et illud, quod secun{354R}dum eumdem Platonem, nec ipsa naturalia bona, perfici in nobis possunt, sine Divino auxilio. Nam ex quo omnia habent95 esse, ex eodem et suam perfectionem habere necesse est. Omnia verò, secundum Platonem ex DEO habent esse. Item in Timaeo96, cum proposuerat de natura mundi et ortu, et connexione97 omnium à primo principio dicere: oravit, et Divinu m ad proposita imploravit adiutorium: quamquam in illis, nil excellens naturale nostrum ingenium dicturus erat: Sed non putabat98 se illa consequi posse, Divinitus non adiutum. At si secundum eumdem in illo Summo bono, totius bonitatis, perfectionis et beatitudinis instar est; ita nostra substantia perficitur, ita beatificatur; si ad illud tendit, illud respicit, et illud imitetur. Partis Primae Finis.99

quaecumque R | quaecunque M 95 habent R* | habmt R 96 Timaeo M | Timeo R 97 connexione R* | conuexione R 98 putabat R | putat M 99 Partis Primae Finis. - M 94

{354V} 1 SECUNDUM STOICOS Domini Barlaam de Seminaria Episcopi Gyracensis; PARS SECUNDA.2 [Cap. I] Animi vis quotuplex. Duplex est vis animi nostri. Una qua intelligimus et verum inquirimus, et à falso discernimus, et à dubiis, ad manifesta transimus: et in eis quid consequens, quid repugnans conspicimus. Et in agendis, quid utile, quid inutile; vel3 quid bonum, et quid malum; et cui, et quantum, et quale inquirimus et iudicamus. Quae vis cum sit intellectiva, Mens appellari solet. Alia est, qua bona vel mala in agendis iudicata placent, vel displicent nobis. Et illa quidem acceptamus, amplexamur et persequimur4. Contraria verò aspernamur et fugimus: quae vis, Appetitiva appellari solet. Huius autem motus vel actus in animo et bene et male potest contingere. Quod ut discernatur, distinguenda sunt prius aliqua, quae ad istum locum pertinent. {355R} [Cap. II] De Vera et Falsa opinione, Boni et Mali. Falsa opinio in agendis bonis vel malis, multis modis accidit. Nam si quis opinatur, non bonum, bonum esse, vel econverso. Aut an5 sit bonum, minus tamen vel maius, quàm est illud esse existimat. Aut per se bonum cum sit, ad aliud tantum, et hoc fortasse minus bonum valere illud reputat. Aut cui bonum est ignorat. Similiter et de Malo Falsa opinio est eius6. Vera autem sententia et verum iudicium, circa eadem est; cum in nullo praedictorum peccatur. Nam si et quod est bonum, bonum existimat; et quantum, et quale, et cui; non ignorat. Similiter et Malum, Verum, et sanum esse

ETHICAE emend. | ETICAE R 2 ETICAE SECUNDUM STOICOS Domini Barlaam de Seminaria Episcopi Gyracensis; -M 3 vel - M 4 persequimur R | amplectimur M 5 an M | (?) arn or aun R 6 opinio est eius R | 2 1 3 M 1

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huiusmodi iudicium omnes concedunt7. Est itaque Falsum de quolibet iudicium simpliciter malum et vituperandum. Verum autem simpliciter bonum et laudandum. Item sicut in corporeis8 oculis interdum contingit aliquid tale, ut acies videndi obtundatur; et ex aliquo motu quaedam obumbratio, seu caliginatio et obscuratio oculo accidat; ita quod, aut non possit, aut minus clare, obscuriusque et deterius possit visibilia videre et discernere. Et hoc cum contingit huic sensui: pro malo ipsi reputatur. Bonum enim eius est, semper manere in suo vigore, et aciem videndi inviolatam et expeditam conservari. Alioquin conditio Visus deterioratur. Ita menti hominis {355V} accidit nonnunquam aliquid tale. Ex quo quandam9 obumbrationem et obscurationem ipsa mens incurit, et acies intelligendi ita obtunditur, ut munus intelligendi et iudicandi; aut minus, aut obscurius tardiusque consequi possit: et à re gerenda; aut omnino abducatur et aut in iubendo et monendo hominem ad exteriores actiones, decus et honestatem in eis aut non possit, aut difficilius et molestius conservare possit. Quod accidens malum esse menti, quis mentem habens non intelligit? Ex similitudine igitur oculorum; docendi causa; appelletur huiusmodi accidens Obumbratio mentis, seu Caliginatio, vel potius Obscuratio. Cum autem Mens ita stabiliter suum conservat vigorem; ut nihil de praedictis ei contingat, ex quo acies intelligendi deteriorari quoquo modo possit: huiusmodi status; causa similiter docendi; appelletur Aequabilitas10. Est itaque manifestum, quòd Obscuratio mentis est malum menti et vituperandum: Aequabilitas verò est bonum et laudandum. Item, cum animus noster habet appetitum, vel committendi quod non decet; vel omittendi quod decet; appelletur Malefica voluntas. Cum autem appetitus tendit ad agendum quod decet, et relinquendum quod non decet; appelletur Benefica voluntas. Est itaque manifestum, quòd Malefica voluntas est simpliciter malum et vituperandum: Benefica autem voluntas, est simpliciter {356R} bonum et laudandum. Ex tribus tamen “malis” segregatis11, si oportet unum sine duobus esse in animo: minimum malum est Mentis obscuratio. Quamquam12 enim ipsi menti, ut mens est, malum est: tamen associata cum Vera in agendis sententia et Benefica voluntate, quo ad exteriores actiones, et maximè13,

concedunt R | concedent M 8 corporeis R* | corporis R 9 quandam R | quamdam M 10 Aequabilitas R | aequalitas M 11 “malis” segregatis R | segregatis malis M 12 Quamquam R | Quanquam M 13 maximè R* | maximum R 7

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quibus14 continetur hominum societas. Si tantum adsit eis Mediocritas: non modo non malum; sed magnum bonum est. Maius vero malum est Opinionis in agendis error. Hoc enim non tantum ipsi animo per se malum est; sed etiam sine Obscuratione mentis et Malefica voluntate; teterrimas exterius actiones et maxime in puniendo gignere potest. De notatis verò tribus, pessimum est, separatum ab aliis Malefica voluntas. Quae enim ita malefica est, ut inhaereat animo, etiam sine repentino et Turbido motu mentis, atque Falsa opinione, ut allegare Ignorantiam nequeat: omnium malorum est pessimum; et minus aliis sanabile. [Cap. III] Malefica voluntas, quotuplex. Duplex quidem est Malefica voluntas. Aut enim causatur à repentina Obscuratione mentis. Qua cessante, recedit et illa, sicut in Ira saepe contingit. Aut insita est, in animo, et sine repentina Mentis caligatione, quae multo tetrior est, quàm illa; quae simul Obscu{356V}rationi mentis oritur et interit. Quare si oportet de malis minima eligere; multo eligibilior est, Obscuratio mentis, cum Benefica voluntate: quam Malefica voluntas sine Obscuratione mentis. De notatis autem bonis, unum comparando sine aliis: Minimum bonum est, Mentis aequabilitas. Haec enim licet per se bonum sit menti, ut mens est; tamen separata à Vera de agendis sententia et Benefica voluntate, quo ad exteriores actiones; nullum bonum est. Verum autem Iudicium de bonis et malis aliquantulum maius bonum est, separatum à reliquis duobus bonis. Nam etiam exterius aliquid boni, interdum per accidens efficit. Omnium verò optimum est Benefica voluntas. Et per se enim bonum est animo, et separata à reliquis duobus bonis; multas tamen bonas actiones exterius gignere potest. [Cap. IV] Benefica voluntas, quotuplex. Est autem duplex Benefica voluntas. Una quae causatur ab aliquo repentino, caliginiosóve animi motu: quae similiter oritur et occidit, sicut in laetitiis misericordiisque saepe accidit. Alia est animo insita et permanens, et à viva atque efficaci ratione pendens: quae de tribus propositis optima est. [Cap. V] Num tria praedicta, Verum Iudicium, Aequabilitas mentis, et Benefica voluntas, {357R} simul in animo, aut Appetitiva vi concurrere possint. Cum itaque ex superioribus Divisionibus, Tria sint notata simpliciter bona et laudanda in animo nostro: scilicet Verum iudicium bonorum et malorum, et

14

quibus R | in quibus M

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Aequabilitas15 mentis, et Benefica voluntas: potest fieri, ut cum appetitiva vis, sit in agendo; simul praedicta tria bona in animo concurrunt16: ut quod placet, vel displicet et Vere17 iudicatum est18, et mens aliquam Caligationem19 non incurrit20, et Benefica voluntas in animo sit. Quod cum fit, Constantia appellatur. Potest autem21 fieri, ut opposita istis contingant: ut et Male22 de obiectis sentiat et acies mentis Obumbratione obtundatur, et voluntas Malefica insit. Potest vero fieri, quod duo sint ex malis et unum ex bonis; quod tripliciter variari potest. Vel econverso: duo ex bonis et23 unum ex24 malis: quod similiter tripliciter fit. [Cap. VI] Praedictorum septem Complexiones. Praeter igitur Constantiam septem horum fiunt complexiones. Constantia nempe, quia Aequabilitas mentis in actu appetitivae, cum Vera obiecti sententia, et Benefica voluntate, non dubium est, quin simpliciter bonum et laudabile sit. Et quia sicut in Prima parte praedefinitum est, Beatitudo est cumulata complexio omnium bonorum hominis, ut homo est. Est autem et ipsa Constantia, secundum assignatum sensum bonum hominis, ut homo est. Ille ergo quem querimus, quem perfecte beatum intelligimus; nequaquam carebit Constantiae bono. Semper igitur Constans erit. [Cap. VII] De Perturbationibus: et quae Perturbationes appellentur. De Septem complexionibus; illae, quibus comprehenditur Obscuratio mentis: quod quadrupliciter contingit; Perturbationes appellantur. Quarum quidem pessima est, cum ita placet, aut25 displicet nobis aliquid: ut cum Obscuratione mentis, sit in animo et Falsa opinio objecti, et Malefica ad agendum voluntas. Minus verò mala est, quando cum Obscuratione mentis, unum reliquorum malorum inest, et alio animus vacat. Quod dupliciter fit. Illa verò Perturbatio, minimum malum est, in qua Obscuratio mentis cum vera sententia illius quod placet vel offendit, et Benefica ad actionem voluntate, coniuncta est. Quare si quis, cum esset ita dispositus, ut incurreret illam pessimam Perturbationem; mutavit

Aequabilitas R | aequalitas M 16 concurrunt R | concurrant M 17 Vere R* | vere R 18 est R | sit M 19 Caligationem R* | caligationem R 20 incurrit R | incurrat M 21 autem R | enim M 22 Male R* | male R 23 et - M 24 ex M | est R 25 ut R | aut M 15

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suam huiusmodi26 dispositionem ad hanc perturbationem: quam minimum malum esse dixi: non parum melioravit suum animum. [Cap. VIII] Tres Complexiones reliquae ad quid utiles. Restant Tres complexiones, praeter Constantiam et quadripartitam Perturbationem27. {358R} Una, cum Aequabilitas mentis sit associata, cum Falsa opinione, et Malefica voluntate quae appellatur elythiotes28. Secunda, cum Aequabilitas mentis Falsa opinione caret; Malefica verò voluntate non: quae appellatur Malitia. Tertia est, cum Aequabilitas mentis, caret Malefica voluntate: habet tamen de obiecto Falsam opinionem; quae dicitur Afelia29. [Cap. IX] Perturbationum Divisio. De Perturbationibus autem, quoniam quadrupliciter variantur, ut dictum est; Prima sit, quae est Obscuratio mentis, cum Vero iudicio obiecti boni vel mali, et Benefica voluntate. Quae quantum ad exteriores actiones: si modo in eis conservet Mediocritatem, magnum bonum est. Secunda sit, quae est Obscuratio mentis cum Falsa opinione et Benefica voluntate. Tertia sit, quae est Obscuratio mentis cum Vero iudicio et Malefica voluntate. Quarta sit, quae est Obscuratio mentis cum Falsa Opinione et Malefica voluntate. Quae omnium perturbationum est pessima, sicut supra notatum est. [Cap. X] Earumdem Divisio altera. Item secundum Aliam divisionem, quattuor genera Perturbationum sunt. Quia enim omnis Perturbatio est Obscuritas mentis, su{358V}scepta ex Opinione boni placéntis, vel mali offendentis. Bona verò vel mala, quae homini eveniunt; Aut sunt iam praeterita, aut praesentia, aut futura. Illa quidem perturbatio, quae percutit et caliginat animum ex opinione praeteriti, vel praesentis mali, dicitur Aegritudo. Quae si nimia est, dicitur Angor. Si vero ex opinione suscipiatur futuri: dicitur Metus vel Timor. Item, Si opinione praeteriti vel praesentis boni contingit: multa quidem nomina, parum differentia, ut Laetitia, Iocunditas, Delectatio, et alia. Sed sumatur Laetitia. Si verò ex opinione futuri boni, dicitur Cupiditas et Libido vel Desiderium. Vertitur etiam in opinatis bonis Dilectio et Amor.

huismodi R | eiusmodi M 27 Perturbationem R* | perturbationem R 28 + (Vesania) M 29 + (simplicitas) M 26

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[Cap. XI] Perturbationum definitio. Definiantur igitur quattuor ista30 genera sic. Aegritudo est Perturbatio animi, ex opinione praesentis vel praeteriti, mali; mordens animum et demittens. Metus, est perturbatio Animi, ex opinione impendentis mali; humilitans31 atque frangens animum; et recessum quendam et fugam animi efficiens, et ad declinandum illud, quod metuitur, hominem impellens. Laetitia est perturbatio animi, ex opinione praeteriti vel praesentis boni: quasi32 cum animus effuse exultat, quaedam voluptas gestiens et elata; perfusam hilaritatem efficiens33. Libido est perturbatio animi, ex opinione futuri boni, cum ad id, quod videtur bonum inflamma{359R}ta rapiatur. Sunt igitur singulorum generum multae et variae species: quas non est necessarium praesenti opere discutere; sed tantum in eis notandum sit, quòd sunt quaedam quae non possunt variari, per quattuor gradus superius assignatos; sed in unum tantum cadunt, in quo Obscuratio mentis est associata, cum Falsa opinione, et Malefica voluntate: qui modus omnium erat pessimus. Tales perturbationes itaque sunt, ut in genere aegritudinis, Invidentia et Obtrectatio. Et in genere Laetitiae, Malivolentia, Iactatio34, Superbia. In genere Libidinis, Inimicitia, Discordia. Hae enim ex opinionis errore, semper et Malefica35 voluntate Animum perturbant. Sunt item aliae, quae per omnes variantur gradus. Ut Misericordia, Poenitentia, Ira, Amor, et innumerabiles aliae. Nam, ut pro omnibus de una dicam, cum sit Misericordia Aegritudo animi ex opinione miseriae alterius iniuria laborantis; potest fieri, ut qui perturbatur, nec vere opinatus sit, de malo alterius; nec Beneficam ad adiuvandum, cum posset, voluntatem habeat. Potest autem fieri, ut in opinione illius quidem, quod perturbat36, falsetur in opinando; habeat tamen ad adiuvandum beneficam voluntatem. Potest verò fieri, ut Obscuratio mentis, in hoc accidenti, et ex vero iudicio pendeat; et Bonae voluntati coniuncta sit. Quòd si in actione valeat Mediocrita tem conservare: magnum {359V} bonum est. Idem de Ira, de Poenitentia, de Amore, et de aliis intelligendum est. Nam quaelibet, si Obscuratio mentis, nec ex Erroris37 opinione concitatur, et Malefica vacat voluntate, et in actione Mediocritatem consequitur: magnum bonum est. Habet enim in animo duo bona; scilicet: Veritatem de objecta re, et ad actionem Beneficam voluntatem: gignitq´ue extra optimam

quattuor ista R | 2 1 M 31 humilitans M | humilians R 32 quasi R* | quasi a R 33 efficiens R* | perficiens R 34 Iactatio R | iactatio et M 35 Malefica R* | malefica R 36 conj.; + non R 37 Erroris R* | erroris R 30

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actionem. Cur vero non dixi Maximum esse bonum; sed Magnum38: apparebit cum de Constantiis dixero. [Cap. XII] Constantia, quid? Constantia itaque, quia est tranquillitas et Aequabilitas mentis in eo quòd iudicata bona vel mala acceptantur et placent vel displicent cum Vera sententia, et Benefica voluntate: varias et ipsa secundum temporalem varietatem bonorum et malorum, et nonnullas alias eorumdem differentias partes habet. Non tamen propriis nominibus omnes assignantur; sed ut plurimum eisdem cum perturbationibus. Nam si mala, quae constanter displicent praeterita sunt, et à se commissa, dicitur similiter Poenitent ia. Si ab alio: dicitur Ira. Si verò mala praeterita vel praesentia aliis evenerunt et passi fuerunt, vel patiuntur: dicitur Misericordia. Si ipse passus est, vel patitur mala; si Animi39, dicitur similiter Poenitentia vel Misericordia. Si corporis40 et externa: dicitur Patientia. Si vero futura et impendentia sunt: dicitur {360R} Cautio, vel Metus et Timor aequivoce. Non autem differt, si in istis, quae Incommoda Stoici dicunt, Mala, usu communi appellantur. Nihil enim ista distinctio interest41 propositae quaestionis. Item cum animus noster sentit42 se constanter fruitum vel fruentem aliquo bono; vel vehementer “bonum aliorum” acceptat43, dicitur Continentia44, Placabilitas, Gaudium; ac etiam aequivoce dici possunt, quae in tertio genere Perturbationum dicebantur. Si autem constanter appetitus tendit ad futurum bonum dicitur Voluntas, vel Desiderium aequivoce. In quibus est et Spes. Est autem in bonis similiter dilectio et Amor. Charitas verò species est Voluntatis45. [Cap. XIII] Perturbationeum et Constantiarum differentia. Ut autem pateat, quid interest, inter Constantias et perturbationes aequivocas; sumatur unum pro onmibus. Ut amor, Ametur igitur primo aliquid; ita ut et46 vere iudicatum sit bonum, et acies mentis ad Intelligendum non obtundatur47, et Benefica voluntas sit in animo; quam dicebamus esse48 appetitum

Magnum R* | Magnam R 39 Animi R* | animi R 40 Corporis R* | corporis R 41 interest M | inter est R 42 sentit R | sensit M 43 “bonum aliorum” acceptat R | acceptat aliorum bonum M 44 Continentia conj. | contention R M 45 Voluntatis R* | voluntatis R 46 et - M 47 obtundatur R* | Obtundatur R 48 esse R mg. | - R 38

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faciendi quod, et non committendi quod non decet. Et iste Amor49 dicatur Primi gradus desuper incipientibus; postmodum relictis in animo Vera sententia et Benefica voluntate Caligationem quandam et Obscurationem50 mentis in amando incurrat; et hic Amor Secundi {360V} sit gradus. Item relicta in amando Benefica voluntate, insit in animo, cum turbido motu mentis, etiam Falsum iudicium, de eo quod amatur. Et sit huiusmodi Amor Tertii gradus. Si vero in amando Iudicium quidem sanum est, de illo quod amatur; sed cum Obscuratione mentis etiam inest ad agendum Malefica voluntas: quae erat appetitus omittendi quod decet, et committendi quod non decet: dicatur huiusmodi Amor Quarti gradus. Si vero et in tribus animus amando deficit, cum est in animo Obscuratio mentis et Malefica ad agendum voluntas, et Falsum iudicium de eo quod amatur. Sit huiusmodi Amor Quinti gradus. Manifestum itaque est, quòd Primi gradus amor, est simpliciter bonus et omnium optimus, et cadit in assignatam superius Constantiae definitionem. Reliqui vero quattuor graduum; quoniam in quolibet ponitur Obscuratio mentis: comprehenduntur in genere Perturbationum, secundum quod Perturbatio superius definita est. Est igitur omnium Perturbationum optima, quae Secundo gradu posita est. Deficit tamen à Constantia in Tribus. Uno quod non conservat Claritatem51 mentis, in suo vigore52, sicut Constantia. Secundo, quod Constantiae quidem facile est, propter mentis Claritatem imponere exteriori actioni Mediocritatem. Ipsi verò Perturbationi, propter men tis turbidam commotionem, idipsum ita facile non est. {361R} Tertio superat Constantia, quòd in ea Benefica volu ntas, cum à Claritate mentis et Viva ratione pendeat est in animo insita et permanens. Et ideo efficacior: et quod ab ea prudenter proficiscitur, numquam ad Poenitentiam adducit. Illa vero Benefica voluntas, quae est in Perturbatione, cum à repentin o et turbulento motu causetur, sedata mente cessat saepe53 et ipsa. Non enim insita est, nec vinculis rationis constringitur. Et ideo saepe contingit, ut quod recte et laudabiliter factum fuerit, cum nubes recesserit, poeniteat hominem hoc idem fecisse. Sicut in Misericordiis nonnumquam accidit. Quintus verò qui positus fuit gradus, est simplicit er malus, et omnium pessimus. Nihil enim in eo boni est. Tertius et Quartus secundum quod participes sunt boni vel mali; sunt laudandi vel vituperandi. Si vero oportet à pessimo expositorum graduum Pertu rbationis, gradatim et non repente ad Constantiam ascendere: Primo subtrahatur Malefica voluntas, vel Falsa opinio. Et istis prius detractis, postremo subtrabatur mentis obscuratio: et immediate hac subtracta, eluceat in animo Constantia; in qua

Amor R* | amor R 50 Obscurationem R* | Oscurationem R 51 Claritatem R* | Charitatem M 52 vigore R | rigore M 53 cessat saepe R | 2 1 M 49

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cum Aequabilitate mentis, et Vera est sententia et Benefica voluntas. Nam si à pessimo gradu Perturbat ionis, Primo subtracta Obscuratione mentis, dimittantur in animo Falsum iudicium, et Malefica voluntas: augetur potius malum quàm diminuitur; et animus deterior fit. Exit {361V} enim à genere Perturbationum, et incidit in Malitiam Elythiotem et Apheliam, quae in agendis malis multo excellunt Perturbationes et minus sanabiles sunt. Quinque igitur graduum assignatorum: Primus gradus, qui solus erat Constantiae, est Summum bonum. Secundus Magnum bonum. Latet enim quod habet malum. Tertius et Quartus, sensibilem iam mixturam patiuntur. Quintus totaliter opponitur Primo: et est simpliciter malum. Itaque cum et Ira, et Misericordia, et Desiderium, et Metus, et reliqua, quae aequivoce54 in genere Constantiarum55, et in genere Perturbationum dici possunt, ut superius ostensum est per quinque quoslibet56 similiter57 gradus, possit variari: ut Primus sit Constantiae; quattuor verò Perturbationis: manifest um est ex supra dictis, quanto melius et praestantius est quodlibet istorum cum Constanter contingit, quàm idipsum si fieret turbulenter. Quod tamen cum ita contingit, quando magnum bonum est, quo ad actionem: et quando sensibiliter commixtum, et quando pessimum malum: satis et hoc, ut arbitror, superius est explicatum. Sed quia sicut praedefinitum est in Primo libro Virtus est optima affectio animi optime animum ad agendum disponens. Nulla ergo virtus ad hoc habet suam vim, ut faciat aliquid mali58 animo contingere. At ostensum est, quod obscuratio mentis, malum est ipsi menti: nulla ergo virtus, ad hoc habet suam vim, {362R} ut Obscurationem et tenebras inferat umquam menti, et obtundat59 eius aciem intelligendi. Sed nulla Perturbatio est, sine mentis obscuratione; segregandae ergo sunt Perturbationes à choro virtutum. Quod et ita ostendi potest. Demonstratum est superius, quod Beatus, quem intelligimus semper est Constans; sed Perturbationes omnes adversantur Constantiae: vacabit ergo Beatus Perturbationibus. Sed virtute aliqua non caret. Nullius ergo virtutis Perturbatio est. Item. Si Constanter Misereri multo melius est, quàm si idipsum Turbulenter fieret, ut ostensum est: Illud verò quod à Virtute proficiscit ur, suo loco et casu, optimum esse volumus. Virtus est ergo querenda; quae stabilitam conservet Constantiam: non Perturbationis infirmitas: Separantes tamen à choro virtutum Perturbationes, non illud volumus, ut ad Apheliam et Elythiotem et Malitiam incidat animus; sed ut bonum Constantiae consequatur. Illis enim qui Claram, et Vivam, et Expeditam, et efficacem rationem expetendarum atque

aequivoce R mg. | - R 55 Constantiarum R* | substantiarum R 56 quoslibet conj.: quodlibet R* | quolibet R 57 similiter R | simplicter M 58 mali R | malo M 59 obtundat M | obtundet R 54

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fugiendarum rerum, non habent; non penitus inutiles sunt Perturbationes. Aliarum enim rerum Cupiditate60, vel Metu, Laetitia, vel Aegritudine commoti; multa bona in vita consequuntur, et mala evitant: sed ita dispositi simulacra virtutum, non ipsas Veras virtutes aestimandi sunt habere. Itaque si nomine Pas{362V}sionis velimus nominare, tam Constantias, quàm Perturbationes: manifestum quod dicimus Passionum61, alias, esse simpliciter bonas; alias, simpliciter malas: Alias62, magis bonas, quàm malas; et econverso: alias aequ aliter commixtas, consequenter quadripartitae Divisioni, non generum; sed graduum Perturbationis. Si autem Passionem in animo velimus nominare: nihil aliud, nisi mentis ipsius Obscurationem, et Turbidam motionem, et Obtusionem: cum semper sit bonum menti Tranquilla Claritas, et Vigens acies intelligendi: non dubitabimus dicere, omnes Passiones, esse animo exstirpandas et penitus evellendas: dumtaxat nec insita Malefica voluntas, vel ad necessarias et honestas actiones, Tarditas in animo remaneat, nec Opinionum temeritas, ut ad Constantiam pure perveniatur. Theophrasto quidem, post Aristotelem Peripateticorum principi non videtur, omnem Perturbationem adversam esse Constantiae. Sed sicut fames et sitis, et huiusmodi naturales contingunt homini sine Falsa opinione, sine Malefica voluntate, sine mentis Obscuratione63: et simpliciter minime mentis Constantia laesa. Ita ait, et in animo secundum infirmas eius partes contingit nonnumquam ex aliquo casu Turbida commotio; nec à Falsa opinione pendens: nec Maleficam voluntatem excitans, nec menti obscurationem inferens. Cuius Commotionis signa, etiam in ore, {363R} in vultu, in oculis, interdum apparent. Haec cum sit Perturbatio, minime tamen Constantiae adversatur. Ad quae respondendum est; quòd ista non adversantur secundum rem superioribus nostris de Perturbatione rationibus. Nam si Constantia una definitione comprehensa est, si Definitio eius64, per non aequivoca verba est assignata: manifestum est, quod perturbatio quae constantiae adversatur, de qua superius tractabamus, per quattuor gradus eam variantes, atque in quattuor genera dividentes65: et illa Perturbatio Theophrasti, quae Constantiae mentis non adversatur, aequivoce Perturbationis nomine fruuntur: ac etiam superior quadripartita Perturbatio; qua66 Obscurationem menti infert, praedicatur de mente. Est enim verum dicere, in illa Passione mentem hominis esse perturbatam. Perturbatio verò Theophrasti, quia descriptam superius Aequabilitatem mentis non laedit:

Cupiditate R* | cupiditate R 61 Passionum R* | Passionem R 62 Alias R* | alias R 63 Obscuratione R* | Oscuratione R 64 eius R mg. | est R 65 dividentes R* | dividendes R 66 qua M | quae R | forte quae vel quia Fortenbaugh (FHSG) 60

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non potest vere de mente praedicari. Dum enim Aequabilitas mentis manet illesa non est dicendum, mentem hominis esse perturbatam. Ergo et ex hoc patet earum aequivocatio. Itaque67 sicut68 terrestris canis definitione assignata, potest dici audacter omnem canem esse animal mortale, vel animal quadrupes: ita quadripartitae69 Perturbationis descripta definitione; per quam necessario distinguitur, à quacumque alia {363V} aequivoca perturbatione, veraciter potest dici nullam perturbationem sine mentis obscuratione esse, omnemque Constantiae adversari, et simpliciter esse animo evellendam. Si qua enim est animi commotio de qua haec dici non possunt: illa in his libris non appellatur perturbatio. [Cap. XIV] De Perturbatione Theophrasti quaestio, Duplex. Nempe de Perturbatione Theophrasti, quae non adversatur Constantiae, duo sunt querenda. Unum. Utrum contingit homini aliquando, an nunquam? Aliud. Utrum cadit in Beatum, an non? Nam cum definitiones Obscurationis70, et Aequabilitatis mentis superius sint descriptae71, Iure dubitabit aliquis Utrum potest contingere in animo Turbida commotio? quae nec definitioni Obscurationis mentis in aliquo communicet, nec definitionem Aequabilitatis mentis in aliquo non laedat: An impossibile hoc est? Cuius questionis veritatem magis arbitror posse intelligi, si quis Passiones animi sui respiciet, quàm si per demonstrationis verba sequatur. Ad Secundum vero manifestum est proculdubio, quòd si qua est commotio animi Constantiae mentis non repugnans: sive Passionem, sive Perturbationem, velit quis eam appellare: nullo modo Beatitudinem ledit. Sed si voluntaria non est, sicut fa{364R}mes et sitis, secundum Theophrastum: nec ad Virtutes, nec ad Vitia penitus pertinet. Quasi dicatur: Si nimia est; vitio danda est. Si mediocris; virtuti. Cuius enim voluntas nostra Domina non est, illud qualitercumque contingit, nec beatum, nec miserum facit; ut in Primo libro ostensum est. Si verò Voluntaria est, et contingit in eo, quod aliquid placet vel displicet, pendetque à Vera72 obiecti sententia et Benefica voluntate, atque acumen mentis in aliquo non deteriorat: nec tranquillitatem concutit; etiam sic73 Theophrasto74 nomine tantum à Stoicis discrepat75. Illam enim rem, quam nos laudabilem putamus et pertinere ad Beatitudinem arbitramur et Constantiam appellamus;

Itaque M | utque Görgemanns (FHSG) 68 sicut - M 69 quadripartitae Fortenbaugh (FHSG) | quadripartita M 70 Obscurationis R* | obscurationis R 71 descriptae M | descripte R 72 Vera R* | vera R 73 sic R* | sicut R 74 Theophrasto R | Theophrastus M 75 à Stoicis discrepat R | 3 1 2 M 67

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eamdem ille Perturbationem abusive appellat. Nam saepe contingit, quòd, cum disserente s aliqua de aliquo universaliter praedicant, affirmative vel negative auditores si viderint praedicata, non omnibus, quae sub nomini subiecti sunt, congruere: putant illas76 mentiri, ipsi magis decepti: ignorantes usum verborum disserentium. Nam si disputantes, ad illas tantum res, nomen subiecti extendunt, quibus praedicata conveniunt; Veram esse eorum sententiam, necesse est. Ut igitur talem deceptionem, in istis nostris legendis, aliquis non incurrat; danda sit talis regula. In quacumque univer{364V}sali propositione videbitur alicui, non omnibus, quae nomine subjecti significantur, praedicatum congruere: scias77 nos more Stoicorum in illis tantum rebus uti nomine subiecti; quibus praedicatum ferè coaptatur. Si plures verò res, eodem nomine, secundum alios significantur; quibus praedicatum inesse non potest: nihil ad Stoicos, sicut nec ad gaeometras est aliquid, si alia res, praeter ab eis definitam circulus78 appellatur. [Cap. XV] Perturbatio an omnino evellenda.79 Resumentes igitur, de Perturbationibus, dicimus, quoniam illam Commotionem Perturbationum in his appellamus, in qua mens à Con stantia egreditur et obscuratur, et acumen80 intelligendi obtunditur: manifestum est, quòd non est resecanda vel moderanda: sed penitus evellenda. Nam in illis recte mediocritas queritur; in quibus utrumque vituperandum est, et nimis abundare, et penitus carere. Sed Perturbatione vacare et minime à Constantia egredi, et acumen mentis illesum conservare: magnae laudi dandum est. Conatus ergo noster, non ad amputandam perturbationem; sed omnino exterpandam dirigendus est. [Cap. XVI] Perturbationes, num exstirpari possint? Quia verò possible est, Deinde ostenden{565R}dum sit. Duplex est opinio, quae perturbat animum. Una qua opinatur quis81 aliquid transeuntium, et noviter imaginationi incidentium, bonum vel malum esse, cum suis circumstantiis. Quae utplurimum falsa est. Aut enim non bona, bona: Aut, quae parva sunt magna aestimantes. Similiter et de malis, utplurimum perturbantur. Alia est, qua videtur rectum esse ut perturbetur, quae numquam vera esse potest. Sive enim bonum est, sive malum quod incidit: nulla ratio est, ut ideo tantum malum menti inferatur: neque rectum ullo pacto esse potest, ut propter alia quaecumque mala vel bona turpificetur, quod in nobis praestantissimum

illas M | illos Fortenbaugh (FHSG) 77 scias R | sciat M 78 circulus M | circulis R 79 Perturbatio, an omnino evellenda M | Perturbatio, Quid? R 80 acumen R* | ácumen R 81 quis - M 76

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est. Bonis enim custodiam; malis, remedia non mala, et praecipue quibus mens leditur, admovendum est. Igitur quoniam falsae opiniones sunt quae animos solent perturbare; de quibuscunque verò falsè opinamur, impossibile est rectum et verum habere iudicium. Manifestum est, quòd delictis animo illis opionibus, et sententia totalitar mutata nihil relinquitur, quod animum valeat perturbare. Possible ergo est, Perturbationibus vacare. * * *

Ethics according to the Stoics composed as a summary by Lord Barlaam of Seminara, Bishop of Gerace from many volumes of those same Stoics Part One 1. What is called ‘happiness’? We think that one man lives better with respect to being a man than another one does, and among human conditions, we consider one more selectable, another less to be selected. So, given that our nature is finite, incapable of infinite goodness, and assuming that it is by reason that one kind of life is better than another, we will not go on to infinity. We will at last attain a certain end, namely, living well – an end which our nature, because of its situation,1 will be unable to transcend. For although we are not in a position to have fully attained the end we will propose, nonetheless, because by nature we have a limited substance and life, it is also necessary that the greatest degree of our perfection, and the condition of living which is best in so far as our finite structure requires it, should be fixed and marked by that same nature. For to think that a finite nature can progress infinitely and be perfected without exceeding its limits not only goes against the common notions, but also destroys every appetite. If there is no end to the things we desire, then where does appetite finally fasten itself?2 So calling this end (the best human life possible3) by the one word ‘happiness’, as others do too, let us ask what it is, and in what things it consists. Let us take a beginning from there.

Later in the work Barlaam allows a higher kind of happiness than that which he seeks here – a happiness he identifies with the Platonists. See ESS 1.32–34. 2 “For to think … finally fasten itself”: Compare with Aristotle, EN 1094a18–21. This argument resembles Aristotle’s words there, but (as argued in the Introduction) it is directed against Gregory Palamas here. 3 Barlaam appears to have our finitude, our proportionalitas, in mind and is allowing room for his later distinction of types of happiness – his subject in this work being the happiness we can have in our life as it is now. 1

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2. True, distinctively human4 happiness. We are looking for true human happiness. But it cannot be such unless it is distinctively human.5 For if we propose a human happiness which is not distinctively human, it will not be true. So it must consist of all those goods which are distinctively human goods. For if [it should consist] of other [goods] and not of these, we will not have what we are looking for. And if it did not consist of all goods of this kind, [then] it would not be the greatest good. For if there is some ‘happiness’ which lacks some distinctively human goods, clearly it will be increased by adding them. Now what can be increased is not ‘greatest’. But we want the happiness we are looking for to be the greatest human good. So it will consist of all the goods we have spoken of – and indeed, of only those [goods]. For if there are any other human ‘goods’, which are nevertheless not distinctively human [goods], it is clear that [even if] they have been added to that happiness which consists of all distinctively human goods, they will not increase it such that distinctive human happiness is greater because of them. For even in such a combination, the whole complex of both kinds of goods would neither be called, nor understood as, nor be distinctively human happiness except by reason of those human goods which are distinctively human goods. 3. True happiness cannot be increased. So true happiness cannot be increased by adding those [other goods] – and justifiably so. For no aggregate can be increased by adding other generically different things. For lines are not [increased] by the addition of points, nor are surfaces [increased] by the addition of lines, nor are solids [increased] by the addition of surfaces, nor is a mixture of various liquids increased by adding colours or odours to it. 4. From what things distinctively human happiness is chiefly composed. If, then, distinctively human goods are generically different from those which are not distinctively human, it is obvious that a happiness which is composed of distinctively human goods will not be increased by the annexation6 of those goods which are not distinctively human. Consequently, the perfect, the greatest human happiness will be composed of [goods of] this kind alone, so that now, comprehending its form most

Literally, ‘The true happiness of man, as he is man’. Throughout the translation phrases like (x) ut (x) est are rendered by ‘distinctively x’. 5 “distinctively human”: compare with Seneca, Ep. 41.7–9. 6 Barlaam’s effort in Book 1 will be to show that the Peripatetics illegitimately broaden the definition of ‘happiness’ by including all human goods. See ESS 1.15. 4

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concisely,7 we may assume the following to be its definition for the purposes of our inquiry and demonstration. 5. What true human happiness and human misery8 are. True human happiness is a complete combination of all distinctively human goods.9 Consequently, the greatest human misery is a complete combination of all distinctively human evils, so that one in whom this is present is called a most miserable man. Moreover, happiness must be sought, and misery fled, for its own sake. 6. What virtue is. Furthermore, let the definition of virtue be assumed, which according to all philosophers goes like this: Virtue is the best disposition of the soul, from which good and praiseworthy [acts of] will, judgements, and actions proceed (each of which is the best of its own kind), and which makes those in whom it exists good and praiseworthy.10 7. All technical skills are excluded from distinctively human happiness. [Given] these premises, it is clear that absolutely all skills of workers are excluded from those goods which belong to the form of happiness. For just as in all other [cases] we understand that those goods are distinctive11 to any given thing which make the thing itself good and praiseworthy, and on account of which the thing itself is justly praised and called good; so too we understand distinctively human goods to be only those which make man himself good and praiseworthy, and on account of which he is justly praised and called good.

“so that now, comprehending its form most concisely”: Barlaam is offering a definition, which Aristotle had said ought to be brief (Top. 139b16–17 views excess verbiage as one of two ways to define incorrectly). Note that Aristotle also connected definition and demonstration in An. post. 75b32–33: “a definition is either a starting-point of demonstration, or a demonstration in a different form, or a conclusion of a demonstration”. Barlaam will use this definition of happiness as the basis for his demonstration. 8 Literally, “What is the true happiness of man, and what [is] his misery”. 9 The Peripatetics claimed that the completeness criterion of happiness is satisfied by including human goods of every kind; the Stoics claimed, as Barlaam does here, that it is satisfied by including all distinctively human goods. 10 “Virtue is … good and praiseworthy”: compare with Cicero, Tusc. 4.34, “virtus est adfectio animi constans conveniensque, laudabiles efficiens eos, in quibus est, et ipse per se, sua sponte separata etiam utilitate laudabilis, ex ea proficiscuntur honestae voluntates, sententiae, actiones omnisque recta ratio”. 11 The sense of this passage is quite clear, but its wording is a bit awkward. The italics seem to help bring out what Barlaam is noting, viz. the notion of goods distinctive to a given x. 7

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8. In what things true, distinctively human, happiness is principally found. Now human happiness is found only in those goods which are distinctively human; hence only those which make a man truly good and praiseworthy, and on whose account he is rightly praised and called good, make the happy life formally complete. But a man does not earn these things from any technical skill of workers. For no matter how much a man may be a good carpenter, or workman, or scribe, he is not called a good man by reason of that art, or praised simply as a wise or prudent or intelligent man. Hence, technical skills of workers must not be included within the form of happiness. 9. Science must not be placed among human goods. And likewise [it must be said] about the sciences, whose end is not an external effect, but an internal vision of truth: granted that each science is reckoned among the distinctive goods of the mind, nevertheless whatever things are such that a man cannot simply be called ‘good’, or rightly praised as a wise and intelligent or prudent man on the basis of them, must not be reckoned in those goods which constitute distinctively human happiness. For we do not call man ‘the mind or reason itself’, but rather ‘an animal partaking of reason and mind’. It is his good we now seek, namely, the thing by which his life, while it is lived, is best conducted. 10. Things which are common to men and beasts must not be placed among distinctively human goods. Furthermore, whatever things are or may be common to man and beasts must not be regarded as among the goods of which human happiness consists. For all those [goods], as we said before, are distinctively human goods. But those things which are or may be common to man and beasts, and consequently which are required for the sake of either propagating or preserving them – even if some of these [things] are said to be ‘virtues’, they are not distinctively human goods. And therefore the things which pertain to happiness must not be regarded as being among these goods. 11. The definition of ‘most miserable’, or who is called ‘truly miserable’. Again, because the most miserable man is not one who never existed, or what is not a man (for a horse is not called a ‘most miserable man’), it is plain that there are some things common to the happy man and the most miserable one. But since he is called most miserable, who has every distinctively human evil, so that no distinctively human good remains in him, it follows that none of those things which are or may be common to the happy man and the most miserable one, and which are required for the sake [of both] of them [alike], are

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the distinctively human good. So the things which are captured by the definition of happiness must not be regarded as among things of this sort. 12. What things may be thought to be justly regarded as among human goods. Again, if only those goods make a man happy by themselves which (as has been shown) make the man himself to be simply good and praiseworthy, and because of which he is justly praised, and called a good man – but all things of this sort are voluntary, and lie within human power, and cannot be lost against our will,12 therefore nothing fragile, and fallible, and extraneous, not under our power, able to be extinguished and destroyed against our will is to be regarded as being in the genus the happy life comprises. 13. Bodily [and] external goods do not pertain to distinctively human happiness. So it is plain from what we have concluded that neither freedom from pain, nor bodily pleasure, nor any of the things at all that are called bodily and external goods belongs to the happiness we are seeking. For some of these are common to man and beasts; others are common to the happy man and the most miserable one. All of them in general are outside our power, fragile, fallible, extinguishable and capable of being lost against our will. And neither do some of them, nor all of them together make a man good by their presence, nor is a man justly praised and called good because of them. So since all such things would be excluded from happiness, those bodily and external goods are necessarily excluded too. 14. What things are included in the form of happiness. And so setting aside all of the other things about which it can be doubted whether they are included in the form of happiness, and leaving only the virtues of the soul and their praiseworthy actions13 (namely those which can neither be common to man and beasts nor to the happy man and the most miserable one, and cannot be lost against our will, whatever things truly make a man good and praiseworthy and by which he is justly praised and called good) it is obvious that happiness consists in a virtuous life only, and virtue itself is sufficient for living a good and happy life.14

“cannot be lost against our will”: contrast with EN 1095b26, where Aristotle says that the good is “not easy to be taken away” (δυσαφαίρετον εἶναι μαντευόμεθα). 13 “leaving only the virtues of the soul and their praiseworthy actions”: compare with SVF 3.113, “[The goods] necessary for happiness are all the virtues and their useful actions” (ἀναγκαῖα μὲν τάς τε ἀρετὰς πάσας καὶ τὰς ἐνεργείας τὰς χρηστικὰς αὐτῶν). 14 “and virtue itself is sufficient for living a good and happy life”: compare with Cicero, Fin. 2.86; Tusc. 5.18. 12

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Now none of the remaining things pertains to true happiness. But as long as a man is steeped in the virtues, and regularly moderates and directs all his thoughts and acts and life by the virtues, all other things can come and go and be possessed in any which way; nothing will be subtracted from or added to that by which he is more or less happy. 15. Whether the things which are called secondary and tertiary [goods] should be included in the form of happiness to be sought. Concerning the sciences and arts, no philosophers doubt whether it is necessary that all of the sciences or some of the arts be included in the form of happiness to be sought. But there is a serious question indeed about the bodily and external goods we have spoken about, which are called secondary and tertiary. For some [philosophers] do not doubt that nothing besides the virtues are the distinctively human good. But taking away the last part of the definition mentioned above15 and simply positing that happiness is a combination of all human goods, they try to add all bodily and external [goods] to the happy life which is supposed to be complete – as though it could never be perfect without them. They are conclusively proven to err, on the basis of things which we commonly and naturally think about the happy life. For we all understand happiness to be the greatest good, by which a thing itself is made to be the very best of its own kind. Therefore the greatest good of man must be understood to be that whose presence makes a man to be the very best man. Furthermore, the presence of the virtues, without anything else added, makes him to be the very best man. Therefore the virtues alone take the chief place in happiness.16 16. What sort of man the happy man should be.17 Again, we want [the man] whom we understand as perfectly happy to be secure, impregnable, protected, fortified, with unerring confidence in his own goods. [He should] always have what he wants, and never [have] what he does not want. [He should] never doubt whether or not happiness is completely present to him, never fear that he will lose [happiness] against his will. [He should be] strong, robust and lofty, magnanimous and always have tranquility and security, the greatest peace and constant cheerfulness in his soul; and be free of terror, anxiety, and sadness.

i.e. that part of the definition which says happiness is made up of distinctively human goods. 16 An Aristotelian could say ‘the virtues take the chief place in happiness’, (cf. White 1992), but could not add the solae. 17 This chapter is expressed in virtually the same words as Cicero, Tusc. 5.41, although the order of the features listed differs from Cicero’s. Hence it is difficult to say whether Barlaam relies on Cicero or whether they both rely on a common ancestor. 15

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17. What does happiness contain in itself? Now the sense of the conclusion we have drawn contains all these things. For if someone, since he is virtuous, so holds the living and efficacious18 view concluded above about happiness, and it has [so] penetrated his whole soul through every part that even every appetite is consistent with it and there is no opinion against it hidden in his soul which could somehow draw his soul away to a contrary appetite; since he regards as among goods nothing but virtue and what it does, but thinks of other things as nothing good or evil to him, and sees that he knows only good, [a good] always completely present to him and [one] that cannot be lost against his will – [then] it is necessary that everything we have explained as commonly understood about the truly happy [man] should happen to him. For such a man is secure, impregnable, most unerringly confident of the things he knows [to be] his goods. He always has what he wants and never what he does not want; for he is free from vices, which he does not want to have. And if [there are] terrors, and sadness, and troubles, and other disturbances which happen to men because of bodily and external things, because they think that they are good or bad and belong to their good or bad condition, it is plain that if someone has thoroughly removed this sort of opinion and appetite from those facts, nothing, howsoever it happens, will succeed in making [him] worried, moved from constancy, and sad. And so he will always be tranquil and calm; on that account he will be strong and magnanimous, always unconquered, not suffering shattered or lowered spirits. For he who judges that human affairs are neither goods nor evils on their own will especially know how to despise them, and neither be carried away nor crushed by them. The case is similar with whatever other things we understand about happiness; they fully agree with the conclusion mentioned above. 18. Whether secondary and tertiary [goods] are necessary for complete happiness. Now if we suppose that someone with the goods of the soul also has all those which are called bodily and external goods, and that the view is planted in his soul (his appetite agreeing with the view) that those secondary and tertiary [goods] are necessary for achieving full happiness, [then] it is impossible for all those things that we understand about happiness to come together in him. And therefore, consequently, although he believes that he has all the things that suffice for a happy life, nevertheless he will not be happy. For if he knows that strength, well-being, health, quickness, charm, sound senses, freedom from

The terms in which this thought is expressed are drawn from the Vulgate of Hebrews 4:12, where the subject is Dei sermo: “vivus est enim Dei sermo et efficax et penetrabilior omni gladio ancipiti et pertingens usque ad divisionem animae ac spiritus conpagum quoque et medullarum et discretor cogitationum et intentionum cordis”. 18

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sorrow, and in short, life itself;19 furthermore empires, kingdoms, magistracies, high offices, honours, faculties, resources, wealth, powers, riches, the good will of his subjects, and the company of excellent friends and blood relatives20 – [if he knows that] all these things are naturally perishable, and together can be lost against his will and their opposites come about, if he is not confident of so many goods without which he does not think unimpaired happiness can be present to him, and if he sees so many things which he thinks to be bad threatening to violate his happiness, how then will he be happy? For being wise and intelligent, and desiring that those goods remain his own and not fall away [from him], since he wants to be happy always, how will he not [rather] always have a soul full of terrors and anxieties and cares? Indeed, whoever believes that human affairs contribute anything21 either to happiness or to misery will not easily be able to despise or condemn them. But unless we despise human affairs, it does not seem possible for courage and magnanimity and excellence to be produced in the soul. The virtuous [man], equipped with these virtues, preserves evenness in every turn of fortune. So he who thinks that he is happy [because he has secondary and tertiary goods] will lack these virtues.22 Moreover, there can occur a case in which even though all a person’s external goods are preserved, nevertheless he does not know whether or not they have been preserved; so he will doubt whether unimpaired happiness belongs to him. Hence he will not have what he wants, since he would want not to doubt. So the tranquility and peace of his soul will be shaken from its constancy. Therefore he will not be secure as the master of his goods; not impregnable, not quiet – and hence, not happy. The view, then, that adds bodily and external goods to happiness makes a man whom we suppose to be happy, to be unhappy. So it is false, since nothing is true from which the impossible follows. On the other hand, the great dignity and splendour of the view which we have supported is thus shown. 19. A comparison of two unhappy people. Let us suppose two unhappy people, suffering a similar failure of soul, body, and externals – completely lacking those bodily and external things which seem to be better. Let the acquisition of any of the things they lack be hopeless. And with all the things that belong to the mind, to nature, and to fortune being equal in all respects, let one of them be persuaded that complete happiness

These, I take it, are secondary goods. 20 These, I take it, are tertiary goods. 21 Literally, ‘have any weight’. 22 And, hence, will not have happiness (since it is an accumulated complex of all the virtues). 19

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turns on the soul’s virtues, while the other holds to the tripartite view.23 [Finally,] let them have an equal desire for happiness. It is plain therefore that the first person will lead his life with less grief, less anxiety, and more joy and tranquility than the second, for three reasons: (1) he sees that the things he lacks mean little for full happiness; (2) he is not desperate to acquire them for himself; (3) he does not consider that any of the things which he has (in so far as they belong to happiness) are in the power of fortune, in such a way that he would be worse off having lost them. The other person, on the contrary, not only sees that he lacks many of the things [required] for completing happiness, and that concerning those which he has, he feels that some can be lost [in such a way] that he would be worse off; but also his ever attaining unimpaired happiness is hopeless. 20. For which one is the acquisition of virtues more difficult? Furthermore, the acquisition of virtues has more difficulties for the latter man than for the former. The chief problem is this: how can he know how much more the goods of the soul count than bodily and external goods for the completing of happiness, and how should they be proportionately distributed, and how does he know how to balance the appetite for happiness among them? But our man, since he directs both his view of happiness and his whole appetite to the virtues alone, has no such difficulty, for he has an even stronger appetite for the virtues than the man who divides the various parts of an equal appetite among corporeal and external things. It is also plain that the more bodily and external things are loved, the more he is prevented from acquiring virtues. So the one who holds our [view] finds it easier to acquire virtues. 21. Which of the two is more vigorous in acquiring virtues? There can be no doubt but that that disposition of a soul which is so well put together and secure that it can preserve evenness in every case and turn of fortune – neither being shattered by adversities, or becoming fickle and despondent, effeminate and anxious; nor exulting with delight when secondary things abound, and foolishly puffed up with presumption and pride when they are gained – that man, I say, has a better disposition and is happier than a person who lacks this kind of constancy. But it is plain that of the two men we supposed, it is easier for the one [with] our [view], by combining exercise and habit, to arrive at this disposition. For the one with a tripartite judgement, on the other hand, it is either impossible or extremely difficult. Since, then, our judgement makes a man better in every

The “tripartite view” is the idea that happiness is a combination of all three kinds of good – i.e. the Peripatetic view. 23

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circumstance than the tripartite judgement, there can be no doubt that it is more worthy of acceptance. 22. In which goods does the action of the virtues chiefly consist? And indeed one need not fall in with that error [which holds] that virtuous actions concern themselves only with bodily and external goods, but not with [their] contraries – as if to live happily is [the same as] to act with virtue.24 But this cannot be, unless it is necessarily concluded that, with reference to bodily and external goods, to the degree they slip away, to that degree life lacks happiness. For there is no case in life, no fortune, no time in which a good man cannot live virtuously. For to think, lie down, sit, stand, walk, keep silent, talk, deal with one’s bodily necessities; to see or hear something, move bodily members, assent to and comply with someone decently and rationally; or not to refuse sorrows and sufferings for the sake of maintaining constancy and good faith – such things which a virtuous man cannot lack at any time are virtuous actions, and are produced by virtue. I neglect to mention that such men have the power to live all their lives with courage and greatness and high spirits in adversity; and the ability to know how to use adversity well is the height of wisdom. Indeed, many things which seem to be a lack [of action] play the role of greatest actions. For when a poor and ignoble virtuous man, ugly, both lame and infirm admires noble, rich, powerful, and healthy men, and he considers himself miserable, and them happy and fortunate; then for this reason he hates them, and envies them, and burns with great desire, suffering, and sadness, and is consumed with mourning, and is depressed; and he erroneously opines either that there is no divine providence, or that it is unjust. But a good man who holds our judgement completely, in a similar situation, will suffer none of those things; nor will he think those others are in a better situation than he is. For this reason he lives with a tranquil soul, and with no restlessness; he is very ready to perform virtuous actions, whether interior or exterior. Such firm, constant, and courageous actions, which rich and powerful virtuous men can also perform, must not be postponed. So, when a truly good man lives and exists, he does not lack virtuous actions. And by the same token, the so-called bodily and external goods are not parts of true happiness. 23. The division of the goods which are called bodily and external. But lest it appear that we are engaged in quibbles by calling things ‘advantages’ which everyone calls ‘goods’, separating them from happiness by changing a word, as it were, we must develop the point further.

The sense here seems to be that the happy life is not only concerned with virtuous action, but also with the acceptance of virtuous suffering. 24

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Of all the goods which are called bodily and external, some relate to our substance itself. These indeed are such that without them we are not able to exist or to live. Others have the power to make us lead a less troublesome, sweeter life. These are indeed ultimately referred to freedom from pain, and pleasure, which are perceived through our bodily senses.25 24. Concerning the first group. So, as it has already been said about the first group, that our substance and our very being is certainly a good to us; nevertheless it is the sort of good that is not part of the form of happiness, but it is found26 just as much in supreme misery as in happiness. For it is different to be a man and to be a happy man, and to be a miserable man, since the same man can fall into either category. It necessarily follows that bodily and external goods themselves, which are necessary for our existence and life, are likewise given the name ‘goods’. As is plain, they are not placed in the form of happiness, but are predicated of miserable and happy men in common. So just as our being relates to happiness – not as a part of it, but as a subject for it, without which the form cannot exist,27 [so] also those goods which relate to our being itself, by means of which we exist, should be related in a similar way to happiness. Therefore just as he who exists, in so far as he exists, is not happier than the one who does not exist, so a person who has many of these kinds of goods is not therefore happier than one who has fewer of them. For a man is made more or less happy by the addition or subtraction of those goods which are part of the form of happiness. But as we have shown, our existence itself and the goods which relate to it are not part of the form of happiness. Now let us turn to the remaining group of the previous division. 25. The second group. Pleasure and freedom from pain [are] not happiness. First we must show that freedom from pain and bodily pleasure can have no place in the form of happiness. For they cannot perfect the happy life, either with the virtues or without the virtues.

The division of bodily and external goods which Barlaam makes here in a general way, Cicero makes with reference to riches in Off. 1.25: “men seek riches partly to supply the needs of life, partly to secure the enjoyment of pleasure” (Expetuntur autem divitiae cum ad usus vitae necessarios, tum ad perfruendas voluptates). 26 Rendering subiiciatur as ‘found’. 27 Compare Seneca, Ep. 14.2, “We should conduct ourselves not as if we ought to live for the body, but as if we could not live without it” (Sic gerere nos debemus, non tamquam propter corpus vivere debeamus, sed tamquam non possimus sine corpore). 25

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For if they are established in the highest place without virtues, it would come about that a most vicious, deeply depraved man, having a corrupt, impious, and inconstant soul would be happy; which is against the common notions. Moreover, they cannot bring about happiness even with the virtues. For since happiness is the best condition of all life, it is necessary that it should be composed, not of things that sometimes disagree with and are opposed to each other, but of things that always agree and are harmonious with each other. “For all goods rejoice in friendship and concord.”28 But there is the greatest possible contradiction between lack of pain and pleasure [on the one hand,] and the virtues [on the other hand]. In many things it is impossible for lack of pain and pleasure to come about unless we both disregard what is right and fitting, and practice shameful and disgraceful behaviour. Now if we always want to follow what reason demands in the way of courage, justice, temperance, and everything of a morally upright nature, [then] it is necessary not only to postpone pleasures, but also to undergo great hardships and to sustain great pains. Conversely, if we should decide in ourselves that we should follow all sorts of bodily pleasures and freedom from pain, there would be no iniquity, no villainy – in short, no evil which we would not be impelled to undertake by this proposed licence. So pleasure and freedom from pain cannot be reckoned in the form of happiness, either with or without the virtues. And for this reason, all bodily and external goods, since they go back to this same freedom from pain and pleasure, must be separated from the form of happiness. Moreover the same thing has already been shown, in so far as they go back to [our] being itself. So these are especially separated from those goods which constitute the form of happiness. 26. Concerning ‘goods’,29 namely30 advantages, which come about in three ways. And so, those things which besides the virtues are called ‘goods’ by the crowd, which the Stoics call ‘advantages’, and the contrary disadvantages, come about in three ways: from virtue, from fault, and from neither. [They may come about] from virtue (as I begin with advantages), as whenever men are given their due by other men because of virtue; or when someone has an excellent son because he educated him well; or when a prudently handled estate is acquired and enlarged without injury [to others]; or when health and strength are preserved by abstinence and diligent guidance; and so on.

A quote from Pseudo-Dionysius, The Divine Names (PG iii, 717a). 29 I have used quotes around goods, to indicate that Barlaam does not share the view that advantages are, strictly speaking, goods. 30 Understanding the et epexigetically. 28

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[They may come about] from fault, as when someone produces a good son by adultery; or when someone increases his own possessions by taking another’s away with injury, and so on. [Advantages may come about] from neither [virtue nor fault], as whatever things [happen] by nature, fortune, chance, succession; [by acts] of God, or whichever way some things happen without our efforts. 27. The division of disadvantages. Now the division of disadvantages is the same. For they can be effects of virtue, as whichever injuries and sorrows are brought on someone for a just cause. Or, if someone is poor because he has turned his resources to works of justice, piety, and liberality, or has let them fall away for the sake of studying better things. They happen from fault, as whichever disadvantages are brought upon someone because of previous wrongs he had done; even if he himself was stirred up by some disturbance, or was not kept from destruction by people who love him when he could have been; or when he himself occasioned the destruction of others; or when an estate has collapsed through indolence, laziness, or idleness; and when bodily advantages are overcome by pleasure, or lost by lack of self-control. And [there are] many such things. [They can come about] from neither virtue nor fault, nor completely from any works: as with natural bodily weakness, and whatever disadvantages come from bad luck, fortune, or injury due to human instabilities. 28. Should advantages coming from virtue be sought, and why? Hence the first of the three ways, in which advantages or disadvantages happen with virtue [is to be sought];31 for although they do [not] increase happiness in themselves by their presence, nevertheless they increase virtuous disposition and action when they are taken on.32,33 The second way, in which advantages or disadvantages happen from defect, is miserable and must be rejected, also for [happiness’] sake, since vicious disposition and action [are increased] when [they are sought.] The third way, when the same things happen neither by virtue nor defect, does not carry any weight either for happiness or misery. But regardless of how advantages or disadvantages have arisen, I will speak of how they should be used when I speak about the virtues.

The words in brackets serve to help answer the question the chapter title raises. 32 See above, 45 n. 63, for my sense of Barlaam’s argument here. 33 For the notion that advantages may be sought when these do not conflict with virtue, compare Epictetus, Ench. 24.3–5. 31

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29. Not advantages themselves, but the dispositions they produce, make for happiness or misery. Now, however, it should be plain that advantages are not part of happiness, nor are disadvantages part of misery. Rather, the virtuous or vicious disposition and act and use connected with the acquiring, taking, doing, exercise, use, and rejection of either [is that which] relates to happiness or misery. So advantages should be acquired and considered and used while this can rightly happen. They should not be rejected, except in order to provide or produce better things, or be used for the serving of men whom it is fitting [to serve]. On the other hand, disadvantages should either be rejected or borne with a calm soul, unless they can be used either for rejecting things which are less advantageous and worse, or be used for decently assisting human needs. But let us proceed with the rest. 30. What is moral value? We have already established at the beginning [of this work] that happiness must be sought for its own sake. We have also shown that the happy life is one and the same as the virtuous life. Hence the virtuous life must be sought for its own sake. Moreover, it is praiseworthy, as we set forth in the definition of virtue. But that which is so good that it can be rightly praised and sought for its own sake without regard to any gain, is what we mean by moral value. So the virtuous life is one and the same as [the life that has] moral value. And since the good and happy life is one and the same as the virtuous life, therefore the good and happy life is the life of moral value. And since no one doubts that what has moral value is also good, we may affirm the pendant to that point – that a life of moral value is also good and happy and virtuous. And furthermore, if propriety is what is in agreement with the man of excellence, in the respect in which his nature differs from other animating [principles], [then] that propriety, and what is proper turns out to be the same as virtue and moral value. 31. What is ‘useful’ and ‘useless’? Next we will speak about ‘useful things’ and ‘useless things’. Both of these are spoken in two ways. In the first way, [they mean] the same as ‘advantages’ or ‘disadvantages’, like a house, a horse, a servant, troops, etc. In this sense, they do not come to the same thing as ‘moral value’ and ‘moral worthlessness’. For no advantages or disadvantages are morally valuable or morally worthless towards that which is human happiness. In another way, ‘useful’ and ‘useless’ are spoken of the actions of men themselves, which are to be taken, used, distributed, borne with or rejected with

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respect to advantages or disadvantages. [Used this way,] things which are ‘useful’ or ‘useless’ are the same as those that are morally valuable or morally worthless. For if every morally worthless action arises from a defect of virtue, [and] indeed a defect of virtue injures happiness, and nothing which is against a man’s happiness can be useful to him, then no morally base action is useful. And by the same token, whatever is useful is not morally worthless. Further, whatever is done usefully without baseness is also reasonable and right. But whatever is reasonable and right is also morally valuable. So we conclude that every useful action is morally valuable. Moreover, that which has been done with moral value, which belongs to happiness, is most useful. It follows that every morally valuable action is useful. So only the morally valuable and virtuous life is a useful life, and only the morally worthless and corrupt [life] is harmful. So these six things: goodness, happiness, complete virtue, moral value, propriety, and usefulness (you may add ‘upright’ and ‘reasonable’ if you like) amount to the same thing, and mean the same thing.34 Likewise with their opposites, i.e. evil, misery, vice, disgracefulness, moral worthlessness, impropriety, uselessness, sin, irrationality (you may add, if you will, ‘depravity’, ‘shamefulness’, ‘foulness’, ‘harshness’, and ‘that which is detestable’): all of these are the same sort of ruination. And so from all the things we have said above, we reach the final conclusion at last, to which all things in this oration have led: Conclusion: If someone lives a virtuous and morally worthy life, then no matter how advantages or disadvantages come to him (excluding those that are his fault), he will lack nothing [needed] for true happiness. And consequently, if he is so depraved and corrupted that not even a trace of any virtue and moral value remain in him, then even if he abounds with all advantages he will lack nothing needed for the greatest misery. 32. According to the Platonists, [there is] no happiness in this life. Here certain Platonists, giving attention to the immortality of souls, and conceiving that they have a certain excellent bliss, and comparing this life to it, assert that it is impossible for a man to be happy in this life. Those who agree with this think that we wander from the truth. There is not, however, a controversy between us about the matter, but only about the name. For we are not both calling the same thing ‘happiness’, in such a way that the same thing is being denied and affirmed. For we, calling happiness the best life which is most consistent with the capacity of our composite human nature, and adding nothing alien from or inconsistent with it, assert that people can achieve it.

34

Compare with Ar. Did. 6e, 2,78,1-6 WH (SVF 3.16).

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When on the other hand [the Platonists] consider the happiness of separated souls, they deny with good reason that the man who exists in this life is able to attain it. So both positions are true. For neither are we able to be made blessed with that happiness by our natural powers while we live, nor does our happiness coincide with or substitute for theirs. Yet even the Platonists themselves admit that people ‘are able’ to attain many goods by divine influence – nature, art, and excellent habits. Plato himself affirms this point about poetry, divination, and love in the Phaedrus.35 However he will not therefore forbid that a final goal to which [man] is able to ascend by natural powers [should] be called ‘happiness’ – particularly since many people customarily use the word this way, and we understand that names stand for things by convention, not by nature. 33. The division of happiness. So, the first [kind of] happiness is the best condition of life itself, which we are able finally to attain, while not transcending our natural power in doing so. This is the kind of happiness we have spoken of in this treatise. The second [kind of happiness] is that which, presupposing the first kind of happiness, unites to it whatever excellent goods a man can acquire in this life with divine inspiration, as Plato teaches in the Phaedrus. The third kind of happiness is that which the wise receive after death, which the same Plato relates in the Phaedo.36 Hence, we have undertaken this great work on the first kind of happiness with good reason, because those who have shown that they participate in the first kind also merit the second and the third kind. 34. How natural goods are perfected in us. We must also note that, according to Plato himself, the natural goods themselves cannot be perfected in us without divine help. For from that by which all things have being, from that same thing they must also have their own perfection. Now, according to Plato, all things have their being from God. Likewise in the Timaeus, where he proposed to discuss the nature of the world, and its origin, and the relation of all things to the first principle, he prayed, and asked divine help for what he proposed;37 although nothing was to be said in that book about the natural excellence of our innate character, nevertheless he himself did not think we could attain these things without divine help. But if, according to him, all goodness, perfection, and happiness are in that greatest

Plato, Phaedrus 244a–245c. 36 Plato, Phaedo 114b–c. 37 Plato, Timaeus 27b–d. 35

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good as a prototype, then our substance is perfected (and so, made happy) if it tends toward the supreme good, refers action to it, and imitates it. End of the First Part

Ethics According to the Stoics [by] Lord Barlaam of Seminara, Bishop of Gerace Part Two 1. How many kinds of powers of the soul are there? Our soul has a twofold power.1 With one, we understand and seek truth, and distinguish [it] from falsehood, and move from doubts to obvious facts, and in these we observe what follows logically [and] what is incompatible. And in things which must be done we inquire and judge what is useful, what is useless; or what is good and what is bad, and for whom, and how much, and how [it is good]. Since this power is theoretical, it is usually called ‘mind’. The other [power] is the one by which, having judged good and bad in the things which must be done, they please or displease us. [The goods which please us] we accept, embrace, and pursue, but we reject and flee their contraries. This power is usually called the appetitive power. Moreover, this power’s motion or act in the soul can occur both well and badly. In order that this may be discerned, some things which relate to that topic must first be distinguished. 2. Concerning true and false opinion of good and evil. A false opinion about good or evil things to be done happens in many ways. For if someone thinks that a non-good is a good, or conversely, [then] either it is good, perhaps, yet he considers it to be less or more [good] than it is, or else, although it is intrinsically good, he reckons it as only relatively good, and thinks that this perhaps is worth less good, or he does not know whose good it is. His false opinion about evil is similar.

“Our soul has a twofold power”: compare with Cicero, Off. 1.101, “Now we find that the essential activity of the spirit is twofold: one force is appetite (that is, ὁρμή in Greek), which impels a man this way and that; the other is reason, which teaches and explains what should be done and what should be left undone” (Duplex est enim vis animorum atque natura; una pars in appetitu posita est, quae est ὁρμή Graece, quae hominem huc et illuc rapit, altera in ratione, quae docet et explanat, quid faciendum fugiendumque sit). 1

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But there is a true view and a true judgement about the same things, when none of the aforesaid faults is committed. For if something is good, he considers it good, and he is not unaware of how much and how and to whom [it is good]. Likewise, evil as well. All people grant that this kind of judgement is true and sound. So false judgement about anything is simply bad and is to be condemned; but true judgement is simply good and is something to be praised. Again, with [our] bodily eyes sometimes something may happen so that the sharpness of vision is dulled, and because of some motion a kind of overshadowing, or fog and darkness of the eye occurs, so that [the eye] is either unable to see and discern visible things, or else is able [to do so] only less clearly, more obscurely and more poorly. When such a thing happens to our sense of sight, it is considered to be an evil for [the sense of sight] itself. For [the sense’s] good is to always keep its vigour, and that its sharpness be preserved unhurt and clear. Otherwise, our sight’s condition is diminished. In like manner, some such thing sometimes happens to the mind of man. Because of this [agitation], the mind itself runs into a certain darkness and overshadowing, and sharpness of understanding is so dulled that the function of understanding and of judging is either less able to follow [reasoning], or [follows it] more obscurely and slowly. [The mind] may either be led completely away from what has to be done, or may find it impossible or more difficult and troublesome to preserve decency and moral worth in commanding and exhorting the man to external actions. Who having a mind does not understand that when this happens it is an evil for the mind? So, using this comparison to the eyes for the sake of teaching, when something like this happens it is called mental overshadowing or fog, or rather, darkness. But when the mind so constantly keeps its vigour that none of the aforesaid happens to it by which the sharpness of understanding can in any way become worse, [then] likewise for the sake of teaching such a condition is called evenness. Accordingly it is obvious that mental darkness is bad for the mind and must be condemned, but evenness is good and praised. Again, when our soul has an appetite either to do what is not proper, or to omit doing what is proper, it is called a harmful will. But when the appetite aims at doing what is proper, and forsaking what is not proper, it is called a favourable will. And so it is plain that a harmful will is an evil and something to be condemned, but a favourable will is simply good and praised. But of the three evils which have been segregated, if one has to be in the soul without the other two, [then] the minimum evil is mental darkness. For although it is a distinctively mental evil,2 nevertheless when it is associated with a true view about things to be done and a favourable will towards external actions (especially those

Rendering menti ut mens est in accordance with the precedent set for hominis ut homo est in Book 1 (see 64 n. 4 above). 2

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actions by which human society is held together), [then] if only moderation is present in it, it is not only not an evil, but is a great good. But an error in one’s opinion about things to be done is a greater evil. For this is not only intrinsically evil for the soul, but even without mental darkness and a harmful will, it can also produce the most hideous external actions, especially in punishing. But of the three [evils] noted, the worst [when] separated from the others is a harmful will. For it is so harmful that it inheres in the soul, even without sudden and confused mental activity or false opinion, so that it can never claim ignorance [as an excuse]. This is the worst of all [the three] evils, and less curable than the others. 3. How many kinds of harmful will are there? Now there are two kinds of harmful will. For either it is caused by a sudden mental darkening, which goes away once it has ended (just as often happens in anger), or it is rooted in the soul, and [comes about] without a sudden mental fog; which is far worse than the former kind.3 It arises and perishes together with mental darkness. Wherefore if one must select the least evils, mental darkness with a favourable will is much worthier of selection than [is] a harmful will without mental darkness. Of the goods we noted, comparing [each] one [taken] without the others, the least good is mental evenness. For even though by itself it is a distinctively mental good, nevertheless when separated from a true view about what is to be done, and [from] a favourable will, it is no good as far as external actions are concerned. When separated from the other two goods, a true judgement about what goods and evils are to be done and avoided is a slightly greater good. From time to time it accidentally produces some external good. But the best of them all is a favourable will. For it is not only intrinsically good for the soul; but also [even if] separated from the other two goods, it is nevertheless able to bring about many good external actions. 4. How many kinds of good will are there? There are two kinds of good will. One [of them] is caused by some sudden or obscure motion of the soul, which likewise rises and falls, just as often happens in joyous and compassionate [actions]. The other is implanted in the soul and lasting, and depends on a living and efficacious reason. Of the three I have discussed [in the previous chapter], this is the best.

3

Cicero makes a similar distinction in Off. 1.27.

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5. Whether the three things spoken of before, a true judgement, mental evenness, and a favourable will, [can be] together in the soul, or rather can concur with the appetitive power. So when the three things noted in the divisions made above as simply good and to be praised [are] in our soul (namely a true judgement about goods and evils, and mental evenness, and a favourable will), it can happen that the three goods spoken of in our soul so concur with our appetitive power as to what is to be done, that what pleases or displeases has also been truly judged, and the mind does not encounter any obscurity, and there is a favourable will in the soul. When this happens it is called constancy. But it can also happen that the opposites of these occur, such that one judges wrongly about objects, and the mind’s sharpness is dulled by overshadowing, and the will is harmful. Indeed, it can happen that two are evil and one is good; this can take place three ways. Or, conversely, that two are good and one is evil: which, similarly, can happen in three ways. 6. The seven combinations spoken of. Hence, besides constancy there are seven combinations of these things. Constancy, certainly, because it combines mental evenness in the appetitive act with a true judgement of the object and a favourable will, there is no doubt that it is [something] simply good and to be praised. And because, as has been defined in the first part, “Happiness is the assembled complex of all distinctively human goods”; but constancy itself, according to the understanding we have set forth, is the distinctively human good – therefore what we are seeking, what we understand as perfect happiness, will by no means lack the good of constancy. So it will always be constant. 7. Concerning disturbances, and what things are called disturbances. Now concerning the seven combinations: those by which mental darkness is comprised, which happen four ways, are called disturbances. Surely the worst of these happens when something so pleases or displeases us that both a false opinion of the object and a harmful will for action in the soul are [present] with mental darkness. It is however a lesser evil when, along with mental darkness, one of the other evils is in the soul, but it lacks the other. This can come about in two ways. But that disturbance is the least evil in which mental darkness is combined with a correct judgement of that which pleases or displeases, and a favourable will for acting. For when he who is so disposed that he experiences that worst disturbance changes his disposition of that kind to the disturbance I have called the least evil, he has greatly improved his soul.

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8. The uses of the three remaining combinations. Three combinations remain besides constancy and the four kinds of disturbance. The first [of these happens] when mental evenness is linked with a false opinion and a harmful will; it is called elythiotes (insanity). The second [happens] when an equable mind lacks a false opinion, but not a harmful will; this is called malice. The third [happens] when an equable mind, lacking a harmful will, nevertheless has a false opinion about the object; it is called afelia (simplicity). 9. The division of disturbances. Now concerning disturbances, seeing that they are varied in a fourfold way, as we have said – the first is that in which mental darkness is [linked] with a true judgement of the object’s good or evil, and a favourable will. In so far as this can preserve the mean in external actions, it is a great good. The second is that in which mental darkness is [linked] with a false opinion and a favourable will. The third is that in which mental darkness is [linked] with a true judgement and a harmful will. The fourth is that in which mental darkness is [linked] with a false opinion and a harmful will. As we have noted above, this is the worst of all the disturbances. 10. Another division of the same things. Again, according to another division there are four kinds of disturbances.4 For since [1] every disturbance is a mental darkness adopted from an opinion about a pleasing good or an offending evil, but [2] the goods or evils that happen to a man are either past, present, or future, [therefore] the disturbance which strikes and darkens the soul from an opinion of past or present evils is called distress. If [distress] is strong it is called anguish. But if it is adopted from an opinion about the future, it is called fear or dread. Next, if [a disturbance] happens from an opinion of past or present good, [it has] many names indeed, with little difference, such as pleasure, delight, amusement, etc. But let us use pleasure. If it comes from an opinion of future good, it is called lust and longing, or desire. Affection and love are also concerned with opinions of goods.

This division of disturbances is similar to that made by Cicero in Tusc. 3.24 and Fin. 3.35. 4

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11. The definition of disturbance.5 So those four genera [of disturbances] are defined thus: distress is a disturbance of the soul from an opinion of present or past evil, stinging and depressing the soul. Fear is a disturbance of the soul from an opinion of impending evil, humiliating and shattering the soul, both bringing about a kind of retreat and flight of the soul, and impelling a man to turn away from that which is feared. Pleasure is a disturbance of the soul from an opinion of past or present good; just as when the soul exults immoderately, some delight cheering and raising [it], producing full mirth. Longing is a disturbance of the soul from an opinion of future good, when [the soul] which has been inflamed is drawn to that which seems to be good. Hence there are many and various species of each genus, which it is not necessary to discuss in the present work; but it should only be noted about them that there are some which cannot be varied through the four grades set forth above. [These] occur only in the one in whom mental darkness is associated with a false opinion and an evildoing will (which is the worst way of all). In the genus of distress, such disturbances are jealousy and disparagement; [and] in the genus of pleasure, spite, boasting, and pride; and in the genus of longing, enmity, and discord. For these, [adopted] from an error of opinion and always with a harmful will, disturb the soul. Again, there are other [disturbances] which are varied through all grades, such as compassion, regret, anger, love, and countless others. Let me take one as an example: since compassion is distress of the soul [adopted] from an opinion of the wretchedness of another person in undeserved suffering,6 it can sometimes happen that the one who is disturbed has neither a true opinion of the other’s evil, nor a favourable will ready for helping him, although he could. On the other hand, it can happen that he is mistaken in [his] opinion about what is disturbing, and yet has a favourable will to help. It can also happen that mental darkness in this case may both depend on a true judgement and be joined with a favourable will. Now if one can succeed in preserving the mean in action, it is a great good. And the same thing must be understood about anger, regret, love, and the others. For whatever [disturbance] (given that [it involves] mental darkness) [which] is not stirred up from an opinion of error, and lacks a harmful will, and is able to follow the mean in action, is a great good. For it has two goods in the soul: namely [1] truth about the matter brought up, and [2] a favourable will with respect to action. It also produces

Compare and contrast Cicero’s discussions of disturbance in Tusc. 3.24–25 and 4.11– 14. Barlaam’s presentation has a number of similarities with those discussions; but the differences are no less pronounced. See further below, 176–178. 6 Compare this definition of misericordia with those in Cicero, Tusc. 3.21; 4.18; Seneca, Clem. 2.5.4. Note also the definitions of ἔλεος in Ar. Did. 10c (2,92,12–13 WH); Diog. Laert. 7.111. 5

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the best external action. Why, however, I did not say ‘the greatest good’, but ‘a great [good]’ will be apparent when I speak about constancy. 12. What [is] constancy? And so because constancy is tranquillity, namely mental evenness (in so far as the things judged good or bad either are accepted and are pleasing or else displeasing) together with a true view and a favourable will, [therefore] it has various parts according to the temporal variety of goods and evils and some other differences in them. Nonetheless, not all [varieties of constancy] have proper names assigned [to them]; but [are] like many of the disturbances. For if the evils which constantly displease occurred in the past, and were done by oneself, this is called regret; if they were done by another, this is called anger. If however past or present evils happened to others who either have suffered or are suffering, it is called compassion. If a man himself has suffered or suffers evils, [then] if [they apply to] the soul, it will likewise be called regret or compassion; if it applies to bodily and external things, it is called patience. But if [the evils] to be suffered are future and impending, this is called caution, or (equivocally) fear and dread. There is no real difference, however, between those things that the Stoics call disadvantages and which common usage calls evils; that distinction is of no importance to the question at hand. Now when our soul feels that it has constantly enjoyed or is enjoying some good, or strongly approves the goods of others, this is called contentment,7 placability, joy – such things can even be equivocally called [by names] which occur in the third genus of disturbance. But if the appetite constantly reaches for a future good, it is called wishing8 or, equivocally, desire (in things where hope is also present). Moreover, it is among the goods, similar to affection and love; though esteem is a species of will. 13. The difference between [various kinds of] disturbances and constancies. So that it may be clear what is the difference between constancies and disturbances equivocally [named], let us take one as an example, like ‘love’. Hence something is loved in the first [way], when it is such that it has been truly judged good, and mental sharpness for understanding is not dulled, and a favourable will is in the soul; which we have said is a desire to do what [is fitting], and not to do what is not fitting. Starting from the top, we call this kind of love, [love] of the first degree.

Rendering the conjecture continentia; the text tradition has contentio, ‘contention’, which makes no sense in the context. 8 Rendering voluntas as ‘wishing’, as in the LCL translation of Cicero, Tusc. 4.12. 7

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Afterwards, although a true judgement and favourable will remain in the soul, it encounters a certain fog and mental darkness in loving, and this is called love of the second degree. Next, [although] a favourable will for loving remains, there is in the soul [along] with a wild mental motion also a false judgement about what is loved. And this sort of thing is love of the third degree. If however in loving, the judgement about what is loved is quite sound, but together with mental darkness there is also a harmful will for acting, which is an appetite to omit what is fitting, and to do what is not fitting, this kind of love is love of the fourth degree. When indeed the soul lacks [all] three in loving: when mental darkness and a harmful will for acting are linked with a false judgement about what is loved: this kind is love of the fifth degree. And so it is plain that the first degree of love is simply good and the best of all, and falls under the definition of constancy set forth above. But the four remaining grades (since mental darkness is posited in each of them) are included in the genus of disturbances, as disturbance was defined above. So of all the disturbances there is a best, which has been put forward as the second degree. Nonetheless, it falls short of constancy in three respects: [1] first, it does not maintain mental clarity in full strength, as constancy does; [2] second, because of mental clarity it is easier for constancy to impose the mean on an external action; but the same thing is not so easy for the disturbances themselves, because of wild mental excitement. [3] Third, constancy is superior because the favourable will in it is more fixed and permanent (since it depends on mental clarity and living reason). And so [it is] more efficacious, and whatever is prudently produced by it never leads to regret. But since that favourable will which is [found] in disturbance is produced by a quick and turbulent motion, it also often ceases when the mind is calm. For it is not implanted, nor is it restrained by reason’s chains. And so it often happens that when the clouds have withdrawn [from his mind], a man may regret having done the same thing that he did rightly and laudably. This often happens in deeds of mercy. Now what was posited as the fifth degree is simply bad, the worst of all, for there is nothing good in it. The third and fourth degrees must be praised or blamed in proportion to their participation in good or bad things. If, however, it is necessary to rise gradually, little by little, from the worst degree of disturbance set forth to constancy, [then] first the harmful will or even the false opinion must be removed. And when these have been excised, then mental darkness can be removed; and immediately, when [mental darkness] is gone, constancy (in which with mental evenness there is a true view and a favourable will) shines forth in the soul. But if mental darkness is taken away from the worst degree of disturbance first, [with] false judgement and an evildoing will being left in the soul, evil is increased rather than diminished,

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and the soul becomes worse. For it leaves the genus of disturbance and falls into [the genus of] malice, insanity, and simplicity, which far surpass disturbances in evildoing, and are less capable of being healed. So of the five degrees set forth, the first degree, which alone was constancy, is the greatest good. The second is a great good, for it hides that which has evil [in it]. The third and fourth allow a mixture [of good and evil] which can now be perceived by the senses. The fifth degree is totally opposed to the first degree, and is simply evil. And so since anger, mercy, desire, fear, and the rest [of these] which can be spoken of equivocally both in the genus of constancies and in the genus of disturbances can be similarly varied (as we have shown above) by each9 of the five degrees, [the result is] that the first is constancy, but the [other] four [are] disturbances. Plainly, from what has been said above, whichever of them happens constantly is to that degree better and more excellent than the same thing if it had come about in a disturbed [way]. I think I have already discussed sufficiently what occurs when there is a great good with reference to action,10 and what occurs when good and evil are tangibly mixed,11 and when the worst evil occurs.12 But because, just as was defined in the first book, “Virtue is the best disposition of the soul, disposing it best for action”, no virtue exercises its power by letting something evil happen to the soul. Moreover, it has been shown that mental darkness is an evil of the mind itself. So no virtue will ever use its power to bring darkening and shadows to the mind and to blunt the sharpness of understanding. But there is no disturbance without mental darkness; therefore disturbances must be excluded from the chorus of virtues. That can also be shown thus: it has been demonstrated above that the one whom we understand as happy is always constant. But all disturbances are opposed to constancy. Therefore the happy man will be free of disturbances. But he does not lack any virtues. Therefore, disturbance does not belong to any virtue. Now, if to be merciful in a constant way is much better than if the same thing comes about in a disturbed way (as has been shown), but in fact we also want what is produced by virtue to be the best thing for that place and occasion, then we must strive for virtue, which preserves stable constancy, and not the weakness of disturbances. However, having separated disturbances from the chorus of virtues, we do not want things to happen to the soul which lead it to simplicity, madness, and

The manuscript originally had quolibet; it was corrected to quodlibet. The reason for the correction is that propter takes the accusative, not the ablative. The corrector erred in adding a ‘d’ instead of an ‘s’. 10 The second degree. 11 The third and fourth degrees. 12 The fifth degree. 9

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malice, but [rather] that the good of constancy should follow. For disturbances are not entirely useless to those who do not have clear, lively, free, and efficacious reason for seeking [good] and fleeing [evil] things which they do not have. For many good things in life come, and many evils are avoided, when [we] have been disturbed by desire, fear, joy, or grief of other things. Nevertheless, those who have the appearances of virtues must not be thought to have the virtues themselves. So if we want to label both constancies and disturbances as passions, it is clear that of what we call passions, some are simply good; others are simply evils; others are greater goods than evils, and vice versa; others are equally mixed. As a consequence of their four-part division, [they are] not genera, but grades of disturbance. But if we want to call nothing in the soul passion except mental darkness itself, and wild motion and dullness, [then] since peaceful clarity of mind and vigorous acuity of understanding are always good, we do not hesitate to say that all passions should be rooted out of the soul and completely avoided. At the very least neither an implanted harmful will or slowness to perform necessary and morally worthy actions should remain in the soul, nor timidity of opinion, so that it can fully attain constancy. It did not seem to a certain Theophrastus, the leader of the Peripatetics after Aristotle, that every disturbance is opposed to constancy. But just as hunger, thirst, and other natural things of this sort occur in people who lack a false opinion, a harmful will, or mental darkness, and without harming their mental constancy, so too, he says, owing to the weakness of the soul’s parts a confused commotion sometimes happens for some other reason, neither resulting from false opinion, nor arousing a wicked will, nor leading to mental darkness. The signs of such a commotion are sometimes apparent in the mouth, the face, and in the eyes. Although this is a disturbance, it is nevertheless not at all opposed to constancy. To this I answer that these things are not really opposed13 to our arguments offered above about disturbance. For if constancy is understood by a single definition, if its definition does not make use of equivocal words, then it is plain that that disturbance which is opposed to constancy, with which we have dealt above, varies through four degrees and is divided into four genera. But Theophrastus’ ‘disturbance’, which is not opposed to mental constancy, makes an equivocal use of the term disturbance. The fourfold disturbance above, which introduces mental darkness, is predicated of the mind. For it is true to say that the human mind is disturbed in that passion. Theophrastus’ disturbance, on the other hand, which was described above as not harming mental

“not really opposed”: Latin adversantur secundum rem. The issue, as Barlaam argues below, is a matter of terminology and not substantive. 13

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evenness, cannot be predicated truly of the mind. For so long as mental evenness remains unharmed, it cannot be said that the human mind is disturbed. Plainly, then, these [two uses] are equivocal. And thus just as when we have set forth the definition of an earthly dog, we can boldly say that every dog is a mortal animal, or a quadrupedal animal – so also by the fourfold definition of disturbance which has been described (by which it is necessarily distinguished from anything else called disturbance equivocally), it can be truly said that there can be no disturbance without mental darkness, and every disturbance is opposed to constancy, and must simply be avoided by the soul. Whatever other commotions may exist in the soul (a topic which I do not plan to address), they are not called disturbances in this work. 14. A twofold question about Theophrastus’ ‘disturbance’. We must certainly ask two questions of the ‘disturbance’ Theophrastus speaks of, which is not opposed to constancy. First, does it happen to a man sometimes or never? Second, does it happen to a happy man, or not? For although the definitions of mental darkness and mental evenness have already been described, someone may rightly question whether or not a confused excitement can happen in the soul which neither shares anything with the definition of mental darkness, nor violates the definition of mental evenness in any way – or is this impossible? I think it is easier to understand the true answer to this question if each person considers the passions of his own soul rather than if he follows the words of the demonstration. Concerning the second question, it is plain without a doubt that if there is some commotion of the soul which is not incompatible with constancy of mind (whether one may want to call it passion or disturbance) then it harms happiness in no way. But if it is not voluntary (like hunger and thirst, according to Theophrastus), then it is completely irrelevant to virtues or vices. ([He speaks] as if it could be said, “If excess, vice is caused; if the mean, [then] virtue”.) For as we have shown in the first book, whatever our will does not control does not make us happy or miserable, no matter how it happens. If however something is voluntary, and it happens in one that something pleases or displeases in one way or another, and depends on a true view of the object and a favourable will, and does not weaken mental sharpness in any way, or damage tranquillity, [then] even so Theophrastus differs from the Stoics only verbally. For that thing which we call praiseworthy and believe pertains to happiness, and call constancy, he calls disturbance by an improper use. For it often happens when examining one thing which has been universally predicated of another, whether affirmatively or negatively, that if the hearers recognize that not everything which has been grouped under a common name agrees, they will think they have been tricked, [for they are] unaware of the usage of the words being

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discussed. But when debaters extend the name of a subject to those things only which agree with the predicates, [then] it is necessary that their view is true. In order that someone reading what we have written may not be deceived in that way, let us posit this rule: in any universal proposition, whenever it seems to one that not everything signified by the name of the subject agrees with the predicate, you should understand that in such matters we, following the Stoic way, use the name of the subject which is usually joined with the things of which it is predicated. But if many things with the same name signify other things to which the predicate cannot apply, the Stoics will have nothing to do with it! In the same way, a geometer has nothing to do with something called [a circle] that is other than what he defined as a circle. 15. Whether disturbance should be completely evaded. Let us resume speaking about disturbance. Since in these [books] we have called that commotion ‘disturbance’ in which the mind leaves constancy and is darkened, and mental sharpness is blunted, it is plain that it must not simply be cut back or moderated, but completely avoided. For we rightly seek the mean in things where both extremes – excess and defect – must be blamed. But to be free from disturbance, and by no means to leave constancy, and to retain mental sharpness is worthy of great praise. So our effort must not be directed to cutting off disturbances, but to completing their extirpation. 16. Can disturbances be uprooted? Since this certainly is possible, it must be shown to be so. The opinion which disturbs the soul is twofold. One by which someone thinks that something which was abandoned and is newly presented to the imagination is good or bad because of its own circumstances; this is exceedingly false. For either what is not good [is thought to be] good, or things of lesser value are thought to be of greater value. They are exceedingly disturbed in a similar way about evils. The other [opinion] is that by which it seems to be right to be disturbed – which can never be true. For what happens is either good or evil; there is no reason that on that account such an evil of the mind should be brought in; nor can it be right in any way that on account of whatever other goods or evils, the best thing in us should be corrupted. For one who guards goods must not be moved to apply evils as remedies [for what is] not evil, and especially things by which the mind is harmed. So since [it is] false opinions which usually disturb the soul, by whichever of them we falsely opine, it is impossible to have right and true judgement [with them]. It is plain that when those opinions have been plucked from the soul, and [our] view is completely changed, nothing remains which is able to disturb the soul. So it is possible to be free from disturbances.

II. Interpretative Essays

The Role of Bodily and External Goods in Happiness in Book 1 of Ethica secundum Stoicos Charles R. Hogg Jr. 1. Introduction In Book 1 of the Ethica secundum Stoicos, Barlaam undertakes to solve one of the longest-fought and most intractable problems in pre-modern ethical thought: the role of bodily and external goods, such as health and friends, in the happy life. The terms of that problem and his attempt at a solution are, in one sense, merely of interest to the historian of philosophy. Both he and his opponents share a world view that is no longer accessible to us. Yet the roots of the problem of happiness, and hence of the role of bodily and external goods in happiness, lie in features of the human condition which antedate philosophical reflection and remain relevant today.1 Barlaam lists some of these in Book 1, Chapter 1. First, we tend to judge the relative merits of one kind of human life over against another. We see the way one person lives and wish we could live that way; or we see someone else and seek to avoid whatever things might put us into a similar situation. It is not necessary that we agree initially on what the criterion of moral judgement is, for ethical philosophy exists in part to seek the criterion, and to judge which kind of life is best.2 Nor is it necessary that our pre-philosophical judgements be correct. To reflect on them critically is to admit that we may have been wrong. We need only agree that, as a rule, all

Thus, Thomas Nagel discusses the problem of ‘moral luck’, which he defines as follows: “Where a significant aspect of what someone does depends on factors beyond his control, yet we continue to treat him in that respect as an object of moral judgement, it can be called moral luck” (Nagel 1990, 26). As we shall see, moral luck is a problem for the Aristotelian point of view, which grants that factors beyond our control carry some moral weight. The Stoic position does not have the problem of moral luck, since it holds that something carries moral weight if and only if I have control of it. 2 The Sceptics serve as the exception to this rule, since the point of their ethical inquiry is that we suspend judgement. Detailed analysis of their position goes beyond the scope of this essay. 1

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human beings make such judgements, and that it is not unreasonable to make them. But can it be reasonable to judge one sort of life better or worse than another? Aren’t all such judgements inherently flawed, both because we lack sufficient knowledge of the life being judged and because we who judge are caught in a contextual web that makes objectivity questionable? Barlaam offers no arguments against these concerns, which mirror those of the Sceptics; he simply assumes the reasonableness of our judging. We may, however, suggest two considerations at this juncture. In the first place, when we judge a given life ‘happy’ or ‘wretched’, we refer to a large section of a life, or to a whole life, or to key and important components of a life. Such judgements do not preclude difficulties in a good life, or joys in a wretched life. When we read the tragedies of King Oedipus we recognize that his life had moments or even extended periods of time in which he prospered and did well. Yet no one would question that his life was wretched, for he failed in many of his central lifeprojects. In the second place, the implications of a sceptical position on the reasonableness of judging are abhorrent: that any ethical distinctions we make between the Nazis and their victims, or James Earl Ray and Martin Luther King, Jr. are simply a matter of personal preference, since the Sceptics deny any objective basis for judging. The other feature of our condition which leads to consideration of this problem is our finitude. Our life moves daily towards its end; Wittgenstein’s dictum that death is not an event in life3 may be true of each individual’s death for that individual, but the deaths of others lead us to reflect that our life, too, has a limit. Not only our life, but also our substance is finite. Each day brings a series of choices, some small, some great, which narrow the range of future possibilities. If I choose to devote attention and energy towards bringing about one event, in the very act of choosing I am rejecting some other events, or making them more difficult to bring about. Our finitude gives urgency and focus to our activity of judging,4 and leads us to seek a goal of living well – some principle that can serve as a criterion for our subsequent reflection on life, and as a guide for our life from day to

Wittgenstein 1961, 72. Compare also Nagel 1990, 9–10: “Observed from without, human beings obviously have a natural lifespan and cannot live much longer than a hundred years. A man’s sense of his own experience, on the other hand, does not embody this idea of a natural limit. His existence defines for him an essentially open-ended possible future, containing the usual mixture of goods and evils that he has found so tolerable in the past.” Missing from these analyses, but found in ancient sources, is discussion of the analogy between sleep and death. I do not have to reflect on death to know that my life is limited; I discover it daily. 4 Note Samuel Johnson’s remark occasioned by the death of Dr. Dodd: “Depend upon it, Sir, when a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully” (Boswell 1917, 339). 3

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day. This principle must not simply be a description of our present situation since, as Julia Annas points out, the search for this principle begins with reviewing our life as it is and being dissatisfied with what we find.5 On the other hand, since it is the goal of a finite nature, we must grant that we can attain it in our present situation, lest we render our desire for it completely pointless. Barlaam writes: For to think that a finite nature can progress to the infinite and be perfected without exceeding its limits not only goes against the common notions, but also destroys every appetite. If there is no end to the things we desire, then where does appetite finally fasten itself? This principle we seek, this goal of living well, is what we call ‘happiness’.6

Barlaam’s reflections on this issue, written in the late Middle Ages, could have been made seventeen centuries earlier by nearly any Hellenist philosopher. Here we see an example of the remarkable unity of assumptions which underlay vastly different schools of philosophy, and made possible fruitful discussion of issues like the role of bodily and external goods in happiness. Since we intend to critically analyse Barlaam’s Stoic position in the light of the Peripatetic view, it is worth our while to consider the assumptions the two schools share. They will serve as a valuable basis of comparison and criticism of the two respective views. Both Stoics and Peripatetics agree that ethical discourse stems from two sources: our ordinary patterns of speech and action, and rational examination of that ordinary experience. Aristotle makes explicit reference to the agreement of “the many” (oἱ πoλλoὶ) and “persons of refinement” (oἱ χαρίεντες) when he speaks of happiness as the highest of all the goods that action can accomplish.7 Having formulated a definition of happiness in the light of “conclusions and premises” (ἐκ τοῦ συμπεράσματος καὶ ἐξ ὧν ὁ λόγος), he examines that definition in the light of “what is said about happiness” (ἐκ τῶν λεγομένων περὶ αὐτῆς).8 Based on his examination he qualifies his previous assertion, as we shall see. The Stoics, too, worked from the view that ethical discourse comes from those two sources. Martha Nussbaum notes that Chrysippus filled much of his four-book work on the passions with observations from everyday language, literary passages, and even bodily gestures.9 Those observations were subjected to a rigorous analysis which often led to paradoxical results, such as the claims that passions should not be moderated, but uprooted, and that virtue alone suffices for a happy life. And unlike Aristotle, whose method allows

Annas 1993, 29. 6 Barlaam, ESS 1.1. Barlaam appears to be aiming these words at his chief theological antagonist, Gregory Palamas. 7 Aristotle, EN 1095a19. 8 Aristotle, EN 1098b9–11. 9 Nussbaum 1994, 369. 5

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adjustment of reason’s conclusions based on re-examination of what is normally said about a topic, the Stoics maintain the results of rational analysis even when they conflict with experience. Nussbaum is correct when she suggests that, for Chrysippus, language reveals a rational structure that exists in the universe; it is important as a sign of that independently existing reality. For Aristotle, use is itself more intimately connected with truth, since (or so I think) the reality use reveals does not exist as a set of distinct items in nature, independently of the demarcating activities of mind. 10

Barlaam makes use of both these sources in the ESS. He makes reference to ordinary discourse in 1.32 to argue that the normal usage of ‘happiness’ allows for the Stoic view of it in addition to the Platonic view. He rejects Theophrastus’ notion of disturbance by claiming that the Stoics “use the name of the subject which is usually joined with the things of which it is predicated” (ESS 2.14). Yet after Book 1’s analysis of the meaning of good, he can refer to bodily and external goods as ‘advantages’,11 explicitly rejecting what the ‘crowd’ calls them (ESS 1.26). It seems that when Barlaam wants to reject the views of another philosopher, he appeals to everyday language; but when Stoic conclusions go against everyday language, he rejects it. Such a practice seems arbitrary at first. Under what circumstances is an appeal to everyday usage legitimate, and when should philosophical argument be allowed to overrule it? Couldn’t an opponent stand Barlaam’s practice on its head, arguing, for example, that the Stoic position cannot be right because ‘goods’ normally refer to bodily and external goods as well as to virtues? Barlaam could respond that we should follow the normal usage of words, unless careful analysis shows that such usage rests on a deep-rooted inconsistency. So, for example, there is nothing wrong with using the term ‘happiness’ to refer to a goal to be attained in this life, even though the Platonists maintain that happiness belongs to separated souls – provided we make clear that there are two different meanings of the word, and we show how the two are related. Barlaam says that Stoic happiness in this life is the cause of Platonic happiness when body and soul are separated. The common usage of ‘good’ as applied to

Nussbaum 1994, 368–369, n. 26. 11 In standard Stoic terminology we might expect these external goods to be referred to as ‘preferred indifferents’ (προηγμένα). Yet there is ancient Stoic precedent for calling them ‘advantages’ (commoda) in, for example, the Epistulae morales of Seneca: “The sum total of our happiness must not be placed in the flesh; the true goods are those which reason bestows, substantial and eternal; they cannot fall away, neither can they grow less or be diminished. Other things are goods according to opinion, and though they are called by the same name as the true goods, the essence of goodness is not in them. Let us therefore call them ‘advantages’ (commoda), and, to use our technical term, ‘preferred’ (producta)” (Seneca, Ep. 74.16–17, trans. Gummere, LCL). In their more recent translation of this letter, Graver and Long translate commoda as ‘comforts’ (Graver and Long 2015, 231). Aulus Gellius 12.5.7 (SVF 3.181) uses productiones to translate προηγμένα. 10

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bodily and external things is rejected (ESS 1.26), however, because a detailed analysis has first demonstrated that these goods are generically different from the virtues, the goods of the soul (ESS 1.15–25). Furthermore, there is no necessary connection between the various kinds of goods, as there is in the case of the various kinds of happiness. The virtues do not necessarily cause a greater abundance of bodily and external goods;12 nor do the external goods necessarily bring about a greater degree of virtue. To call both sorts of things ‘goods’ in the light of that analysis would be to foster linguistic confusion. Stoic and Peripatetic theories also agree on the teleological nature of the ethical task. This notion, which they share with nearly every ancient ethical theory, suggests that the chief business of ethics is to discover the goal, or τέλoς, of my life as a human being. Cicero says, For what problem does life offer so important as all the topics of philosophy, and especially the question raised in these volumes – What is the End, the final and ultimate aim, which gives the standard for all principles of well-being and of right conduct? 13

While the various schools did not agree on the answer to this question, the fact that they agreed on the basic question made a long and fruitful dialogue possible, in which each school adopted insights of the others and adapted them to its own view. Thus, Seneca’s letters frequently cited Epicurus with approval,14 and the Peripatetics began to make use of the Stoic notion of familiarization (οἰκείωσις) in their explanation of how other-concern arises from self-concern.15 The attraction of this approach is obvious. Aristotle suggests that knowing this goal puts us in a position analogous to archers having a target: it does not guarantee that we will live successfully, but makes the prospect much more likely.16 Further, as we mentioned above, it stems from deeply-rooted features of our existence. Perhaps this serves to explain why, despite the well-founded objections of Bernard Williams and others,17 philosophers continue to be attracted to studying these schools, and to seeking alternatives to consequentialist and deontological views. It may also account for the popularity of non-

See below, 132–133. 13 Cicero, Fin. 1.11. 14 Aware of how odd this would appear, Seneca says, “It is likely that you will ask me why I quote so many of Epicurus’ noble words instead of words taken from our own school. But is there any reason why you should regard them as sayings of Epicurus and not common property?” (Ep. 8.8). For further discussion of Seneca’s references to Epicurus, see Sellars 2014, 106–107. 15 Annas 1993, 276–285. 16 Aristotle, EN 1094a24–25. 17 Williams 1985, 43–44, notes that Aristotle was unable to explain how it is that errors arise, and that evolutionary biology, the contemporary successor to Aristotelian teleology, seems to suggest an answer which is hostile to ethical life. 12

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philosophical writers like Steven Covey, whose works take a teleological approach to life. We must distinguish the narrower claim that human action is end-oriented and end-driven from the broader claim that all of reality is organized in a teleological fashion. Williams says that “Aristotle himself held a very strong theory of general teleology: each kind of thing had an ideal form of functioning, which fitted together with that of other things”.18 This statement may be true as applied to the Stoics (although even with them it creates the impression of a much more closely integrated system than the evidence supports), but is drawn much too broadly to be true of Aristotle. In the first place, Aristotle did not hold that each kind of thing had an ideal form of functioning; natural artifacts had no function beyond that given to them by living beings such as humans. In the second place, Aristotle normally uses teleology to speak of functions within a living thing or species, not across various species. One finds more generalized forms of explanation in modern evolutionary and environmental science than in ancient ethics. And although the Stoics held that ethics is joined to physics,19 they tended to develop the various parts of their system independently of each other.20 A word should be said at this point about the Stoic and Peripatetic use of ‘nature’. Annas notes that ‘nature’ plays a twofold role in ancient theories. On the one hand, it describes ‘mere’ nature, “those features of our lives which we have to plan around and cannot plan away”.21 We have already cited Barlaam’s use of ‘nature’ in this sense when he says that “by nature we have a limited substance and life” (ESS 1.1). It also has a stronger role, as “the goal or end of human development”.22 Used in this way, it is strongly normative,23 and is opposed to ‘convention’. As I examine my life, I find various conflicting desires and ideas within myself. Nature in this second sense helps me to sift and judge among those various desires, and pursue what best makes for my flourishing as a human being. This notion of nature will play a very important role in our critical evaluation of the two schools. For example, while both schools claim

Ibid. 19 Colish 1990, i, 36. 20 Annas 1992, 44–45. 21 Annas 1993, 137. 22 Ibid. 23 The ancient use of ‘nature’ does not map well onto G. E. Moore’s discussion of the topic (Moore 1986). On the one hand, ancient theories make the claim that the proper notion of ‘good’ stems from nature. On the other hand, their theories are not reductionist, and their notion of nature is normative. Furthermore, Moore divides those who commit the naturalist fallacy into two groups: those who hold that ‘good’ can be defined with reference to a natural object, and those who hold that ‘good’ can be defined with reference to a metaphysical object (Moore 1986, 38–39), and classifies the Stoics in the second group. But Stoic ontology denied the dualism between matter and spirit which implicitly underlies Moore’s distinction. 18

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that the end is self-sufficient, Aristotle appeals to nature to argue that self-sufficiency must not exclude friendship, and hence, external goods.24 Barlaam does not use the word explicitly in this sense. But his whole presentation in Book 1, Chapters 2 to 14 is an attempt, based on a description of our nature, to determine what is our good. Now if, as I examine myself, I see conflicting thoughts and desires, how can I know which of these I should follow and which I should resist, which are natural and which stem from convention? In part, as Annas notes, the Stoics answered this by offering a detailed description of normal human development.25 In addition, it may make sense to see the Stoic use of exempla as aiding in our sifting process. These stories of famous people exemplify one or more traits of the wise person and so, functioning as accounts of ‘philosophical saints’, help us to see clearly what is meant by a particular character trait, and also help us to see that what nature sets forth is not impossible for us to attain. To cite one case, Epictetus often refers to Socrates as an example of endurance in the face of injustice and of how to face death bravely.26 Some of these examples shock our normal sensibilities, to bring about a ‘conversion’ from one way of thinking to another. Consider the case of Stilpo, whose family was killed and whose property was confiscated by a tyrant. When the tyrant asked him whether he had lost anything, the man replied, “I have all my goods with me!”27 The point of the story, of course, is to cause us to reflect on our tendency to place value in things which can be lost, and to convert us to a view in which moral value is unique. Besides the use of exempla, Epictetus uses dialogue, analogies, and extension of ideas to help us examine our conflicting thoughts. Imaginary dialogue makes our unspoken assumptions explicit, and allows us to hear the Stoic response to those assumptions. Well-drawn analogies illustrate abstract ideas in ways that are easier to grasp. Extension of ideas is based on the notion that things are easier to judge when they are larger; once, speaking with a Roman Bailiff who was Epicurean, he asks, “In the name of God, can you imagine an Epicurean state?”28 Stoics and Peripatetics not only agreed on the sources of ethics, and that it is an end-oriented study; they also agreed on the name of the end, as well as

Aristotle, EN 1097b9–12. 25 Annas 1993, 214–215. 26 Epictetus belies the contention of Bernard Williams that “it was a matter of what may be called constitutive luck that one was a sage, or capable of becoming one: for the many and vulgar this was not (on the prevailing view) an available course” (Williams 1981, 20). Epictetus was a slave who, according to ancient sources, had been brutally treated by his master. One would scarcely associate slavery and abuse with the sort of constitutive luck that would produce such a Stoic. 27 Cited in Seneca, Ep. 9.18. 28 Epictetus, Diss. 3.7.19. 24

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certain features it had to possess. “Verbally there is very general agreement”, Aristotle says, “for both the general run of men and people of superior refinement say that it is happiness, and identify living well and doing well with being happy”.29 The traditional translation of εὐδαιµovία as ‘happiness’ is somewhat misleading, for several reasons. In the first place, we use the term ‘happiness’ to refer to a condition which can come and go rather easily, but Aristotle held that it is very difficult to lose happiness30 and the Stoics (with the exception of Chrysippus) said it was impossible to lose. In the second place, for the Peripatetics and Stoics happiness is not a condition, but an activity. If these caveats are kept in mind, however, we may use the word ‘happiness’. Among the various ethical schools, there was a wide divergence over what happiness is; Julia Annas notes that “the question ‘In what does happiness consist’? is the most important and central question in ancient ethics”.31 On one extreme, the Epicureans claimed that happiness is pleasure – not the active pleasure of, say, eating, but the static pleasure of having eaten.32 Nature teaches us that our real needs are few, simple, and easily obtained; the source of unhappiness is our false ideas about what we need: “What cannot be satisfied is not a man’s belly, as men think, but rather his false idea about the unending filling of his belly”.33 On the other extreme, the Cynics held that happiness is virtue alone, and that everything besides virtue completely lacks value. Speaking of the proto-Cynic Antisthenes, Diogenes Laertius says, “he held virtue to be sufficient in itself to ensure happiness, since it needed nothing else except the strength of a Socrates”.34 In order to highlight this view, Cynics would often pursue ascetic excess. Diogenes Laertius tells of Diogenes the Cynic embracing statues in winter, and getting rid of his cup and bowl when he saw children drink with cupped hands and eat with bread.35 On this spectrum of views of happiness, the Stoics and Peripatetics were positioned between the Epicureans and Cynics, with Stoics closer to Cynics and Peripatetics closer to Epicureans. Like the Cynics, the Stoics agreed that only virtue is happiness and possesses moral value. But they did not agree that moral value is the only kind of value. Some things, which did not possess moral value, would nonetheless be preferred by the Stoic provided they did not conflict with virtue. The relationship between these two types of value is a problem for the Stoic view. The Peripatetics, on the other hand, held that virtue is necessary, but not sufficient, for happiness. By claiming that bodily and external

Aristotle, EN 1095a16–17. 30 Aristotle, EN 1101a9–11. 31 Annas 1993, 46. 32 According to Annas 1993, 347, the Peripatetic Arius criticized Epicurus’ view for just this reason. 33 Epicurus, Sent. Vat. 59. 34 Diog. Laert. 6.11. 35 Diog. Laert. 6.23; 6.37. 29

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goods are necessary for happiness, they seemed to the Stoics to move in an Epicurean direction. Although they did not agree on what happiness is, the Peripatetic and Stoic schools agreed that happiness possesses certain features. One of those is completeness. The ends sought by my desires can be viewed as a system organized according to a ‘for the sake of’ relation. At the lowest point of this system are desires which I have simply for the sake of pursuing other ends. I want money, for example, but only because having money allows me to buy goods and services. Again, I buy an exercise machine in order to improve or maintain my health. At the middle point of this system are desires which I have both for their own sake and for the sake of something else. I want to maintain my health both because it is an intrinsically satisfying condition and because I want to be happy. But happiness occupies the top of the system. To ask, “Why do you want to be happy?” would be a nonsense question. Happiness is an overarching goal for my life as a whole, that gives my whole life meaning and focus. As we shall see, contemporary interpreters of Aristotle differ on the nature of this ‘for the sake of’ relation – a difference that seems to stem from ambiguity in the text of Aristotle itself. The Stoics concur with this completeness criterion. They define happiness, the end of life, as “that for the sake of which all else is rightly done, while it is done for the sake of nothing else”.36 A second feature of happiness as the final end is self-sufficiency. “The final good is thought to be self-sufficient”, Aristotle says, and defines it as “that which when isolated makes life desirable and lacking in nothing”.37 While his first reference to self-sufficiency places it in a social context, in Book 10 of EN he notes that the philosopher is more self-sufficient than the political leader, because the philosopher can contemplate even when by himself.38 But even the philosopher needs bodily and external goods, according to Aristotle; so the Stoics, who reject that proposition, give increased prominence to the self-sufficiency of happiness. Agreeing with Cicero, Barlaam says: “Again, we want [the man] whom we understand as perfectly happy to be secure, impregnable, protected, fortified, with unerring confidence in his own goods”.39 Because these theories set as their main goal the task of finding a target, an end which unifies my life and gives a standard for well-being and proper conduct, it should be no surprise that they emphasize the agent in his activity. In a well-known passage, Aristotle seeks to sharpen his definition of happiness by asking what the function (ἔργov) of man is, and makes the claim that happiness

Stobaeus 2,46,5–7 WH (SVF 3.2): τέλoς ἐστὶv oὗ ἕvεκα πάvτα πράττεται καθηκόvτως, αὐτὸ δὲ πράττεται oὐδεvὸς ἕvεκα. 37 Aristotle, EN 1097b14–15. 38 Aristotle, EN 1177a35–b1. 39 Barlaam, ESS 1.16; compare with Cicero, Tusc. 5.81–82. 36

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must be an activity (ἐvέργεια), a form of life.40 Even in Book 10, when he argues for the superiority of the contemplative life, Aristotle suggests its superiority stems in part from its being the highest human activity, and one which we can carry on more continuously than any other form of activity.41 The Stoics concur, when they say, for example, that happiness is “to live in conformity with nature”.42 The emphasis on human activity has a latent ambiguity which allows each school to criticize the other for violating the emphasis. As we shall see, the Peripatetics from Aristotle onwards reject virtue alone as happiness precisely because happiness is an activity and, by itself, virtue is only the potential for activity.43 Someone can be virtuous while asleep or wretched, and we do not think of such people as ‘happy’. The Stoics, on the other hand, criticize the Peripatetics for allowing bodily and external goods as parts of happiness, when we function as recipients of these things, and (as the Peripatetics admit) there is no necessary connection between our conduct and our receiving them. In the light of these features which both theories shared, we will now consider each theory in more detail, with reference to how they relate bodily and external goods to happiness. We shall see that the Peripatetic view of bodily and external goods, as set forth in the EN, has a deep inner ambiguity which sacrifices consistency to plausibility. We shall also see that Barlaam’s Stoic answer is a fresh attempt to solve the problem, which seems to solve the inconsistency of the Peripatetic view but raises serious questions about the plausibility of Stoic anthropology.

2. Aristotle on External Goods and Happiness Anyone who reads Aristotle’s account of happiness in the EN is struck with the sense that he is seeing a work in progress. The author does not present his position in a linear fashion, but tentatively, often covering the same ground several times and returning to previous discussions to add details and make clarifications. This is because Aristotle follows a dialectical method in the EN, reasoning from experience to principles.44 From time to time he makes statements which seem but remotely connected with what came before and which add nothing material to the discussion. Such is the case with his mention of the life of money-making at 1096a5–10. Just before his mention of this kind of life, he had said that there are three prominent types of life: the life of pleasure,

Aristotle, EN 1097b29–1098a20. 41 Aristotle, EN 1177a20–23. 42 Diog. Laert. 7.87 (SVF 1.179): ὁµoλoγoυµέvως τῇ φύσει ζῆv. 43 Compare with Aristotle, EN 1095b31–1096a5. 44 Aristotle, EN 1095a32–b4. 40

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the life of politics, and the life of contemplation. When he finishes speaking of the life of money-making, he leaves the topic behind, seemingly without adding substantively to the point he is pursuing. What is true of Aristotle’s presentation in Books 1 and 2 is also true of the EN as a whole. For most of the work, he presents a doctrine which finds happiness in a life of active virtue, together with external goods. But suddenly, in Book 10.7, Aristotle shifts to the view that the happiest life of all is the life of contemplation. This change is so remarkable that many interpreters think that 10.7 is a later interpolation to the text of the EN.45 In addition to making substantive changes, Aristotle uses subtly different terms in the course of his discussion, which make it difficult to decide whether we are dealing with doctrinal shifts or stylistic variations. Two examples of this variation directly relate to how we understand Aristotle’s teaching on happiness. One of those examples is his use of the terms ‘happy’ (εὐδαίµωv) and ‘blessed’ (µακάριoς) at 1101a6–8:46 If it is so, the happy man (εὐδαίµωv) never becomes miserable (ἄθλιoς). But he will not be blessed (µακάριoς) if misfortunes like Priam’s befall him.

Some interpreters claim that the distinction between these two terms is merely stylistic, and that ‘happy’ and ‘blessed’ are synonymous. This view would seem to imply that there is some middle state, in which a person can be neither happy nor miserable. If it were Aristotle’s intention to teach such a middle state, we may well wonder why he does not develop this idea and relate it explicitly to happiness and misery. Others claim that Aristotle means to distinguish between the two terms, by saying that we are ‘happy’ by virtue alone, and ‘blessed’ if, in addition to virtue, we have external goods. It would be strange, however, if Aristotle intended to distinguish between the terms, since he does not later spell out the significance of the distinction. Furthermore, such a distinction would appear to fragment the unity of happiness and to contradict Aristotle’s assertion that happiness is “the most desirable thing” (1097b19– 20). The other example of terminological variation concerns Aristotle’s use of the word happiness (εὐδαιµovία) and its cognates. He begins by speaking in terms of happiness, an abstract noun, at 1095a19, but quickly begins to use the verb “to be happy” (εὐδαιµovεῖv) at 1095a20. This in itself causes no great problem, and Aristotle defines happiness at 1098a16-18:

See, for example, Nussbaum 1986, 373–377. 46 Compare Annas 1993, 415–423. 45

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the human good (ἀvθρώπιvov ἀγαθὸv)47 will be activity of soul according to virtue, and if there are many virtues, then according to the best and most complete [of them].

Following this definition, which he claims is derived as a conclusion from logical premises, he adds the idea that such activity must occupy a complete lifetime, since “one day or a brief period of happiness does not make a man supremely blessed and happy”.48 It is noteworthy that this definition omits any mention of external goods. They only come into view when he tests the definition according to common opinions about happiness. In a moment we will speak of how external goods are introduced; but following their introduction Aristotle revisits the definition mentioned above and says (1101a14–17): What then hinders us from saying that the happy person is the one acting according to complete virtue and furnished with external goods, not for a chance time but for a complete life?

Several features of these words are noteworthy. We have moved from a definition of happiness (εὐδαιµovία), an abstract noun, to a description of the happy person (εὐδαίµωv). Is the linguistic change significant, or merely a matter of style? The certainty of the definition has given way to a description marked with hesitancy, even in its form (a question). And finally, we have moved from a list of items which fall under one category (since the virtues are all ἐνέργειαι) to a list of items from various categories. Clearly this new formulation will have difficulty explaining the relationship among and preserving the unity of its varied elements. Besides these terminological matters, there are significant concerns relating to Aristotle’s introduction of external goods into his discussion of happiness. We will first speak about how he introduces external goods into the discussion of happiness, and then seek to examine the roles which external goods play in happiness in Aristotle’s thought. We noted above that the topic of external goods is explicitly raised only when Aristotle tests the definition of happiness according to common opinions (ἐκ τῶv λεγoµέvωv περὶ αὐτῆς).49 But even here he seems to separate them from happiness, for he says: “And rightly do some say that the end is actions and activities; for thus it will be among goods of the soul, and not among external goods” (1098b19–20). The sentence as it is written is vague at a crucial point, since it is not clear what is meant by Aristotle’s saying that the end is “among” goods of the soul. Presumably he uses this expression to remain

Although Aristotle forms his definition as a definition of the ‘human good’, he had earlier identified the human good with happiness (1097b22). 48 Aristotle, EN 1098a19–20. Note, in connection with our first terminological problem, the use of µακάριov καὶ εὐδαίµovα in this context. Here the two appear to be synonymous. 49 In his first mention (1098b12–13), Aristotle distinguishes between ‘bodily’ and ‘external’ goods, though almost immediately (1098b20) he assimilates the two under the term ‘external’ goods – another example of terminological fluidity in the presentation. 47

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neutral at this stage between two options, one in which the end is one good found in the soul, and the other in which the end is a collection of goods found in the soul. Either way, though, he explicitly distinguishes happiness from external goods.50 Happiness is an activity (ἐvεργεία); but with regard to external goods, the agent is not active, but passive. It seems strange to speak of our relationship to external goods as passive, to be sure, for we normally associate much activity with the acquiring and maintaining of external goods. But in the sense relevant to the issue at hand, the agent is passive. The issues of what goods he receives, and how long he retains them, are not within his power or ability to change. Aristotle implicitly repeats this claim that happiness is distinct from external goods when he says, “Now we say that these [i.e. best activities], or the best one of them, is happiness” (1099a29–30). Then, in a startling shift, he adds, “But it is likewise obvious that the external goods are needed, just as we have said.” What is not obvious is the referent of “as we have said”. There is no previous place in the EN in which Aristotle explicitly claims that external goods are needed for happiness. The phrase “external goods” is not introduced until 1098b12–16 and, as we noted above, he does so only to exclude happiness from being among external goods. That is not to say that Aristotle has not used equivalent expressions prior to 1098b12–16. In several cases, he speaks of wealth, which is one of the external goods. For example, while noting the linguistic imprecision inherent in ethics, he mentions wealth together with courage as good things which have sometimes caused ruin to people (1094b18–19).51 Two other mentions of wealth occur before 1098; once he reports that one opinion of the masses – especially the poor – equates wealth with happiness (1094a20–25), and at 1096a5–7 he explicitly rejects the idea that the money-making life is the happy life: “But the money-making life is constrained, and plainly wealth is not the good we are seeking.”

Pace Irwin 1986, 213, who says “When Aristotle insists that virtue is not identical to happiness, he must allow that happiness is a mixture”, scil. of virtue and external goods. But Aristotle does not insist that virtue is not happiness because he wants to include external goods in happiness; he does so because virtue finds its end in virtuous activity and, apart from that activity, is not sufficiently complete. 51 The word for ‘caused ruin’ here, ἀπολλύεσθαι, bears reflecting on. He says that both wealth and courage (a) are good things, and (b) have ruined people. When we say a person has been ‘ruined’ by wealth, we refer not only to external ruin like the loss of healthy relationships, but also to internal ruin such as the loss of virtue. When we say a person has been ‘ruined’ by virtue (and presumably Aristotle has in mind here not the mere possession of virtue, but its active use) we can mean only external ruin such as the loss of property, wholeness of body or of life itself. Bravery itself is one of the virtues, whose active exercise is a component of happiness. Aristotle’s notion of courage causing harm is not original to him; the concept already arises in Plato’s Alcibiades 115b–c. 50

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While the last reference forbids any equation of wealth and happiness, other passages suggest that external goods may have a part in the happy life. Immediately after excluding happiness from being among external goods (1098b12– 16), he surveys what others have said about happiness: The characteristics that are looked for in happiness seem also, all of them, to belong to what we have defined happiness as being. For some identify happiness with virtue, some with practical wisdom, others with a kind of philosophic wisdom, others with these, or one of these, accompanied by pleasure or not without pleasure; while others include also external prosperity (ἕτερoι δὲ καὶ τὴv ἐκτὸς εὐετηρίαv συµπαραλαμβάvoυσιv). Now some of these views have been held by many men and men of old, others by a few eminent persons; and it is not probable that either of these should be entirely mistaken, but rather that they should be right in at least some one respect or even in most respects.52

The verb Aristotle uses at this juncture to speak of external goods, συµπαραλαµβάvω, is used elsewhere with reference to things which serve as helpers or assistants to others. In the Phaedo, Plato uses it once to speak of the body’s role in the soul’s investigation of truth (65b), and again when Socrates invites Simmias to set forth objections to his views, telling Simmias to make use of his services if he thinks that Socrates can help. Aristotle uses the verb in the De anima (403b22) with reference to calling his predecessors’ views into council as he investigates a problem. Again, in the Politics he uses it in describing how a disgruntled man overthrew the government of Epidamnus with the help of the unenfranchised classes (1304a13–17). The relationship between the two parties implied in this verb, which I will call ‘managing’ and ‘helping’ parties, is worth pondering. At first blush it seems rather clear, but further reflection reveals ambiguity. The term places the initiative with the managing party. It is the soul which investigates the truth, Simmias who raises objections, Aristotle who investigates the problem, and the disgruntled man who overthrows the state. The managing party sets the nature and limits of the helping party’s activity. The helping party functions as a kind of tool (ὄργαvov) in the service of the managing party. But there is also a certain ambiguity attached to the term. In some cases, a managing party makes use of a helping party in order to accomplish some end more easily; in other cases, a managing party cannot accomplish the end at all without the helping party. Socrates would allow, it seems, that Simmias can state his objections without his help; but, depending on the form of government of Epidamnus, the disgruntled man would have found his task completely impossible without the helpers. In the present case, the role of external goods in happiness is left rather unclear – not only because of the nature of the verb Aristotle uses, but also because his endorsement is non-specific.

52

Aristotle, EN 1098b22–29, emphasis added.

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One other place before 1099a29 may serve in part as the referent of “as we have said”. When Aristotle is commenting on the self-sufficiency of happiness, he says: Now by self-sufficient we do not mean that which is sufficient for a man by himself, for one who lives a solitary life, but also for parents, children, wife, and in general for his friends and fellow citizens, since man is born for citizenship.53

Although there is no explicit mention of external goods in this passage, it does suggest that Aristotle traces our need for external goods back to our very nature. The one whose happiness we seek in ethics is not a solitary, but a social creature; our nature is such that we must live in relationships as a necessary part of our happiness. Friends, family, and the state not only require us to seek, gather, and use external goods to flourish; they themselves are external goods. Aristotle notes elsewhere that friends “are thought to be the greatest of external goods”.54 This argument, which bases the Peripatetic case for external goods on human nature through the example of friendship, is quite powerful.55 Barlaam admits that human nature is not that of a disembodied mind, but an animal partaking of reason (ESS 1.9), yet the physical and social aspects of human nature seem to carry little or no weight in his understanding of human happiness. One senses that for Barlaam, despite his protestation to the contrary, the duality of our nature is not essential to our existence.56 So Aristotle introduces external goods into the compound which happiness is. He does not base their inclusion, strictly speaking, on an analysis of the definition of happiness, for the fact that happiness is an activity seems to argue against it.57 Rather, he bases their inclusion on the popular notion of happiness (1098b10, 26–27) as well as on the social nature of the human creature whose happiness we seek. But his presentation raises at least as many questions as it answers. Is it significant that external goods are introduced in a description of the happy man, instead of in a definition of happiness? By pursuing this strategy, Aristotle gains plausibility for his account, because he allows that the popular view (which includes external goods in happiness) is not entirely wrong. But this plausibility is won at the cost of clarity, for we are left uncertain about

Aristotle, EN 1097b8–12. 54 Aristotle, EN 1169b10. 55 Cicero also argues for the Peripatetic position on external goods based on human nature in Fin. 4.27–29. 56 This view is confirmed in Barlaam’s assessment of the relationship between Stoic and Platonic views of happiness; see ESS 1.32–33. 57 J. L. Ackrill’s argument for an inclusivist understanding of Aristotle’s definition of happiness is based, in part, on an analysis of Aristotle’s self-sufficiency criterion of happiness, mentioned above (see Ackrill 1980, 21). But if that were Aristotle’s intention, it seems strange that he would later speak of happiness as an activity (ἐvέργεια); see EN 1098a16–18 and 1098b15. 53

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the relationship between definition and description, happiness and the happy man. Aristotle had introduced others’ views of happiness by saying that they were not likely to be entirely mistaken, but should be right in at least some respect. Unfortunately, he never spells out how those who include external goods in human happiness are right, or at least in what sense they are not entirely mistaken. Given the unclarity of Aristotle’s text, it is no surprise that contemporary interpreters of Aristotle are divided on the question of the structure of happiness. The ‘inclusivist’ side, represented by J. L. Ackrill, claims that happiness is a composite of all intrinsic goods. The ‘dominant’ side, represented by Richard Kraut, claims that happiness is either the life of political virtue, which is second-best, or the life of philosophical contemplation, which is the best life of all. Ackrill claims that Aristotle begins the EN by distinguishing between some activities with ends apart from themselves and other activities which are their own ends. Both kinds of activities can exist in a subordination-relation with other activities. Consider the cases of bridle-making and military strategy. The ‘end’ (τέλoς) of bridle-making is an artifact, a bridle. The end of military strategy is an outcome, victory. According to Ackrill, Aristotle says that one activity, a, may be subordinated to another activity, b – whether a has an end apart from itself or whether a is its own end. In the case of activities whose end is something distinct from the activity, such as bridle-making and military strategy, the notion of subordination is relatively clear. What is unclear is the notion of subordination between an a and a b where a’s end is not distinct from a: Commentators have not been sufficiently puzzled as to what Aristotle has in mind. It is after all not obvious what is meant by saying that one action or activity is for the sake of another, in cases where the first does not terminate in a product or outcome which the second can then use or exploit.58

Ackrill goes on to claim that in cases where two intrinsic goods exist in a subordination relation, ‘a is for the sake of b’ means that b is a whole of which a is a part. Thus, for example, I golf for the sake of a good holiday in the sense that golfing is a part of a good holiday.59 A careful reading of EN 1.1 suggests, however, that Aristotle is not distinguishing between activities, but the ends of activities. He introduces the distinction in question by saying:

Ackrill 1980, 18. 59 Sarah Broadie’s comments about the objective nature of Aristotle’s examples may be worth citing here: “What distinguishes Aristotle’s approach is the focus on subordinationrelations that are, so to say, objectively there for people of very different ethical attitudes” (Broadie 1991, 12). It is not clear that golf would be universally viewed as part of a good holiday in the way that, say, flute-playing would be universally viewed as part of a good orchestra (see the example below). 58

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Now there appears to be a certain difference among ends. For some are activities (ἐvέργειαι), but others are works produced by them. Now in the case of the ends being something besides the action, the work is better than the activity. (1094a4–6)

Aristotle’s meaning here seems to be clear. In some cases the end is something distinct from the activity which produces it; in other cases, the end is the same as the activity which produces it. Consider the distinction between the art of flute-making and the art of flute-playing. The end pursued by the flute-maker is an artifact; the end pursued by the flute-player is the playing of the flute itself. To say that the artifact produced by the flute-maker is ‘superior’ (βελτίων) means simply that the techniques the artist uses are governed by the resulting artifact which is the end of those techniques. If, for example, one flute-maker discovered a new technique for handling the material which produced a better flute, then he is right to change and to adopt the new technique. Now the end pursued by the flute-player cannot be superior to the playing itself, because the playing itself is the end pursued by the flute-player. In some cases, Aristotle says, various activities will exist in a subordination/ superordination relationship. For example, bridle-making and other horseequipping activities fall under the faculty (δύvαµιv) of riding; riding and other such activities, in turn, fall under strategy. We must be careful to note, however, that even here Aristotle’s concern is not to compare activities, but the ends of activities: “in all these cases the ends of the master arts are more choice worthy than those [ends] under them, for the latter are pursued for the sake of the former” (1094a14–16). Aristotle’s point is not that bridle-making has less intrinsic worth than riding; his point is that the end of bridle-making (the bridle) is subordinate to the end of riding (the activity of riding itself). In other words, the rider tells the bridle-maker what constitutes a good bridle. Then comes the sentence about which Ackrill puzzles: “And it makes no difference whether the activities themselves are the ends or something other than them, just as in the case of the sciences spoken about” (1094a16–18). Given that Aristotle has not been speaking about activities, but rather the ends of activities, the meaning of this sentence seems clear enough. Consider first the clear case of the flute-maker. To say that the end of the master art (fluteplaying) is preferred to the end of the subordinate art (flute-making) is just to say that the activity of playing the flute controls the activity of making the flute.60 But what of the flute-player, whose end is the activity of flute-playing? In what sense can this end be subordinate to some other “master-end”? Consider the flute-player as a member of an orchestra performing Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker. The end of the orchestra, its performance, is not simply the sum of the ends of its members. What constitutes orchestral flute-playing is not the same

Compare Broadie 1991, 12: “The primary meaning of ‘subordination’ here is that (e.g.) the general qua general has authority to give orders to the spear maker qua spear maker.” 60

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as what constitutes solo flute-playing. The orchestral flute-player must seek to blend with others in the flute section, and with the woodwinds, and then with the orchestra as a whole. The conductor, as the one whose end is the performance of the orchestra, has the right to give orders to the flute-player. It is true that the activity of flute-playing is one part of the whole which is the orchestra. But to say that “The flute-player plays for the sake of the orchestra” means that “The flute-player is a part of the whole which is the orchestra” does not seem to capture the point that Aristotle is making in EN 1.1. The end of the orchestra is more than the sum of the ends of the players which make it up, since each one’s end is changed for orchestral playing. The other main view of the EN suggests that when Aristotle identifies happiness with the best activities (ἀρίσταις ἐvεργείαις) or one which is best of all (µίαv τoύτωv τὴv ἀρίστηv), he has in mind two sorts of lives.61 The best life of all is the life of contemplation (θεωρία), which he speaks of in Book 10. The second-best life is the life of political virtue, which he speaks of in the rest of the EN. In the dominant interpretation, the various goods in our life are arranged hierarchically, in a kind of pyramid.62 The lowest level of the pyramid consists of those goods which are simply means to ends beyond themselves. Wealth is one example of such a good (1096a6–8). The second level of the pyramid is comprised of goods that are both ends in themselves and means to happiness. Concerning these, Aristotle says: Now indeed we choose honour, pleasure, intelligence, and every virtue for themselves (for we would choose each without regard to what results), but we also choose them for the sake of happiness, judging that we will be happy by means of them.63

It is worth noting that Aristotle explains here the meaning of ‘for itself’: we choose something for itself when we choose it without regard to the consequences it has. Earlier (1094b18–19) he had spoken of some goods which have harmed people, and cited both wealth (a lowest-level good) and courage (a virtue, and hence a second-level good). Clearly, based on his words at 1097b2– 6, we see a difference in the kind of harm each can cause. To choose a merely instrumental good (like wealth) over a second-level good (like justice) would be morally harmful.64 To choose a second-level good (like courage) over a firstlevel good (like life) may be physically harmful but morally appropriate, since we choose second-level goods “without regard to what results”. The Aristotelian agent faced with a situation of possible danger would not do a utilitarian

Kraut 1989, 5. 62 Kraut 1989, ch. 4 (197 ff.). 63 Aristotle, EN 1097b2–6. 64 Aristotle discusses the nature of harm caused in such cases at EN 1140b13–19. The desire to attain pleasure, or avoid pain, causes such wrong decisions; those decisions, in turn, make it difficult for us to see the originating causes of good actions. 61

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calculus, based either on his own well-being or that of others. Rather, he would seek to determine what course of action would exemplify the virtue of courage, and pursue it without regard to results. These second-level items have a dual nature, for in addition to being chosen for themselves they are also chosen for the sake of happiness. But what does it mean to say that they are chosen ‘for the sake of’ happiness? In the case of the relationship between second and lowest (third) level goods, the goods on the second level are not a sum total of third level goods. Liberality, for example, is not a combination of wealth and other third level goods. It is concerned with wealth, since Aristotle calls it the “mean regarding wealth” (περὶ χρήµατα µεσότης) at 1119b23. But wealth serves as a presupposition for liberality, not a part of it; wealth is, as it were, the matter which liberality shapes. We have wealth ‘for the sake of’ exercising liberality. Liberality governs our use of wealth, on the one hand, and a certain measure of wealth makes liberality possible.65 Now since Aristotle uses the same term to describe the relationship between first and second level goods as he uses to describe the relationship between second and third level goods, it would seem that we can use our understanding of the latter, mutatis mutandis, to understand the former. For the dominant view, then, the happiness which alone occupies the highest level of goods is an activity distinct from the virtues and other goods below it. Happiness is not the possession of the virtues per se since, according to Aristotle, such possession is consistent with a person’s being asleep.66 Nor is it simply the use of the virtues in one’s own life, considered by itself. It is, rather, the use of those virtues to benefit one’s fellow citizens in a life of political leadership.67 Or is it? For the dominant view, as for the inclusivist view, the situation is made more complicated by Book 10.6-8. There Aristotle argues for another life, the life of contemplation, as being greater than the political life. What he had presented for most of the EN as happiness is now set forth as second best. As I mentioned above, those who defend the inclusivist view tend to separate this part of Book 10 from the rest of the EN. Ackrill sees no way to reconcile the answers of Book 1 and Book 10, and calls Aristotle’s answer to the question of happiness “broken-backed”.68 Nussbaum even calls into question whether Book 10 was originally a part of the EN.69 But Kraut, as a defender of the dominant view and of the unity of the EN, faces a daunting challenge. If, as he says, the EN presents two candidates for happiness – perfect happiness, which is found in contemplation, and second-best happiness, which is found in

Compare Kraut 1989, 13, 200–203. 66 Aristotle, EN 1095b32; compare 1098b30–1099a10. 67 EN 1094b8–12. 68 Ackrill 1980, 33. 69 Nussbaum 1986, 373–377. 65

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political activity – then how do these two relate to each other? In a scheme based on domination, how can both be viewed as happiness? It would seem that if Aristotle were claiming superiority for the life of contemplation, then the life of political activity could no longer truly be called ‘happy’. If, on the other hand, the life of political activity can be truly called ‘happy’, then in what sense is the contemplative life superior? The dominant view of happiness has a further problem with accessibility. Aristotle claims that on his view, happiness is possible for virtually any person: “It [happiness] will also on this view be very generally shared; for all who are not maimed as regards their potentiality for virtue may win it by a certain kind of study and care.”70 But if happiness means either a life of political activity (and not just any political activity, but of activity that has a share in ruling the city) or a life of philosophical reflection, then happiness will be attained by very few people indeed. Even if circumstances are ideal, a city can be ruled by relatively few of its citizens at a time. Few men and women have the leisure available to devote to reflection, and leisure for reflection is not always paired with the intellectual ability to do so. Which of the two views of happiness, the dominant or inclusive, most closely represents Aristotle’s view of the matter? Perhaps there is no simple solution to such a complex problem. When one views the problem in the context of the whole Aristotelian corpus, one finds evidence enough for either view, and no direct addressing of the problem in a way sufficient for its solution. For example, Aristotle plainly sets forth a hierarchical ordering of goods in the Politics 7.1, and when he says “the best life, both for individuals and states, is the life of virtue, when virtue has external goods enough for the performance of good actions”,71 this certainly seems more consistent with a view of external goods which makes them presuppositions, not constituent parts, of a happy life. When, on the other hand, he sets forth the meaning of happiness in Rhetoric 1.5, he plainly describes it as a whole made up of parts, among which both goods of the soul and external goods are included. Again, when he speaks to the very issue at the root of the inclusivist/dominant debate, he falls short of applying his remarks explicitly to the issue: “some people regard the things that are indispensable conditions of being happy as actual parts of happiness”.72 One wishes in vain for one more paragraph, a development and application of this thought to the issue at hand. It may be that Aristotle’s silence, the apparent ambiguity in his doctrine of happiness, is deliberate. Two pieces of evidence point in that direction, one of them an explicit statement and the other a methodological concern. Twice in

Aristotle, EN 1099b18–20. 71 Aristotle, Pol. 1323b40–42. 72 Aristotle, EE 1214b27–28. 70

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Book 1 of the EN, Aristotle explicitly warns that all discussion of ethical topics is necessarily vague. At 1094b12–28, he says: Our discussion will be adequate if it has as much clearness as the subject matter admits of, for precision is not to be sought for alike in all discussions, any more than in all the products of the crafts […]. We must be content, then, in speaking of such subjects and with such premises to indicate the truth roughly and in outline, and in speaking about things which are only for the most part true and with premises of the same kind to reach conclusions that are no better […] it is evidently equally foolish to accept probable reasoning from a mathematician and to demand from a rhetorician scientific proofs.

The wide variety of notions about justice, as well as the fact that people sometimes suffer harm from things they call ‘good’, are together responsible for Aristotle’s scepticism about the scope and precision of ethical talk. One sometimes gets the impression, when reading debates such as the one we have been speaking of, that Aristotle would look on with a bemused smile as his pupils debate issues which he would consider insoluble puzzles. Both sides of the debate can marshal passages which support their view and seem to exclude the other. Aristotle’s unwillingness to be more precise stems from a deep-seated methodological concern. As Nussbaum has noted, his method departs from the Eleatic and Platonic traditions, which tend to draw a sharp contrast between appearance and reality, in favour of a radically appearance-determined method.73 Plato had set forth a description of the task of philosophy in the Republic (514a–516c), in the Myth of the Cave. There he likens human beings to prisoners, deep in a cave. Lined up facing a wall, unable to free or move themselves, the prisoners watch shadows of artificial objects projected on the wall in front of them by the light from a fire. The philosopher is freed somehow from his fetters and enabled to see, first the mechanism by which the shadows are made, then the real objects represented by the artificial objects, and finally the light of the sun itself by which the real objects are illuminated. What is significant here for our purposes is the great contrast between the ‘shadows’ of things as they appear to the non-philosopher, on the one hand, and the reality of things which the philosopher sees, on the other. The conflict between the common and the philosophical views of reality is seen as an either/or struggle, which Plato settles decisively in favour of the philosophical view. Aristotle’s method, on the other hand, makes appearances supreme at every point. Philosophical method begins by “gathering the appearances”, assembling what has been said about the matter at hand.74 Some of the phenomena are found in what philosophers or other experts have spoken; but the views of the crowd are also consulted. We have seen that Aristotle consults both “the crowd” (oἱ πoλλoὶ) and “persons of refinement” (oἱ χαρίεvτες) in his discussion

In what follows I am indebted to Nussbaum 1986, 240–263. 74 Nussbaum 1986, 245. 73

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of happiness.75 But “gathering the appearances” does not simply mean accumulating popular and learned views of the topic at hand; it also involves attending to human experience. Once Aristotle has brought up the notion of finding the supreme good, he quickly locates the science whose end it is in politics, because of the role politics plays in the life of the city (1094a29–30). Again, in seeking to determine what happiness is, he directs our attention to three prominent sorts of lives (1095b14). Having gathered the appearances, Aristotle sets forth the puzzles found in them. Both the views of the crowd (1094b14–22) and those of refined persons (1095b23–1096a4) are subjected to critical analysis. The crowd’s identification of happiness with pleasure is rejected as “slavish” and “fit for cattle” (1096a20); the refined view of happiness as honour is rejected as superficial, since it depends on those who give it rather than on the one who receives it. Another candidate for happiness from the refined, virtue, is rejected as incomplete (ἀτελής), because virtue finds its fulfilment in action, and the possession of virtue is not inconsistent with suffering the greatest misfortune (1095b32– 1096a4).76 After a lengthy excursus which considers and rejects the Platonic notion of good (1096a12–1097a14), Aristotle seeks to sort through the puzzles raised by the phenomena.77 His search has two parts. First, he subjects the various views to certain formal considerations. Happiness, he says, must be (a) complete and (b) self-sufficient (1097a15–1098a22). The definition of happiness receives its final honing by means of an ἔργov argument, the thrust of which is that human happiness (as the chief human good) must be found in whatever is the distinctive function of man. The solution to the puzzles raised is found in Aristotle’s definition of the human good at 1098a17–19: “the human good is the activity of the soul according to virtue, and if there are many virtues, then according to the best and most complete; moreover, in a complete life.” Throughout the sifting process of the puzzle, Aristotle had made no appeal to a source other than the appearances. Following his definition, however, he gives evidence of being conscious that the result of his work is rather rough-hewn. So he reminds us again of what he had said earlier, that in a subject like ethics only rough and probable conclusions should be expected.

Aristotle, EN 1095a18–19. 76 It would seem that these lines are an allusion to Plato’s Republic, which seeks to show that the truly just man is happy regardless of what happens to him, and the unjust man is unhappy, regardless of his external prosperity. See the contrast drawn in Rep. 360e–362c. 77 In seeking to analyse critically the puzzles raised by appearances, and come to a view which harmonizes them, Aristotle’s method is distinguished from that of the Sceptics. Like Aristotle, the Sceptics had an appearance-based method; see Sextus Empiricus, Pyr. hyp. 1.19–20. But unlike Aristotle, the Sceptics used conflicting appearances to move the mind away from a dogmatic view and towards tranquillity. 75

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The final step in Aristotle’s method is to compare the results he has obtained to the appearances with which the search began. Again we see that his is a radically appearance-centred method. He carries out this procedure at 1098b9– 1101a22. The single greatest difficulty facing his definition is the place it holds, if any, for bodily and external goods. “Those who philosophize” claim that happiness is an activity, a good of the soul, and hence not a bodily or external good (1098b13-20). But others include external goods, as we have seen, as an aid to happiness (1098b26–27). Aristotle wishes to allow for both these views, among others: “it is not probable that either of these should be entirely mistaken, but rather that they should be right in at least some one respect or even in most respects”.78 Aristotle solves the problem of how external goods relate to happiness by making an implicit distinction, as we have noted above, between happiness (εὐδαιµovία) and the happy man (εὐδαίµωv).79 Happiness, considered abstractly as an activity, is found in the goods of the soul and not at all in external goods (1098b19); this satisfies the concern of those who philosophize. But considered concretely in the life of the happy man, happiness does contain external goods; this satisfies the concern of those who include external goods. Does the life of the happy man contain external goods as a constituent part or as a presupposition? It would seem that an unstructured inclusivism is excluded as a possibility, since Aristotle speaks of external goods as either assisting or instrumental to the activity of the soul (1099b26–28). But a more complex inclusivism, which recognizes that the happy life possesses a hierarchical structure, cannot be excluded. In either case, it is clear that for Aristotle, the happy life does require external goods. And this is not only true for the life of political virtue; even the theoretical life, which more closely approximates the life of the Stoic sage, needs them: “It would seem, however, also to need external equipment but little, or less than moral virtue does”.80 But why would the theoretical life need external goods less than the life of political virtue? To answer that question, we need to understand the role played by external goods in the happy life. Aristotle discusses that issue at 1099a31–b7: But it likewise appears that [happiness] requires the external goods also, as we have said, since it is impossible or difficult to practise noble deeds while being unequipped. For, on the one hand, many things are done by means of friends and wealth and political power as through instruments; and, on the other hand, the lack of other things such as good birth, good children, and good looks disfigures blessedness. The man who is utterly ugly or lowborn or childless and alone is not our idea of a completely happy man: still less the one with

Aristotle, EN 1098b27–29. 79 Or, the life of the happy man. 80 Aristotle, EN 1178a24–26. 78

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thoroughly bad children or friends, or who has lost good ones through death. So then, as we have said, happiness seems to require external prosperity in addition.

Two sorts of reasons are envisioned here for the necessity of external goods in the happy life. Positively stated, external goods can serve as instruments in the performance of many noble deeds; negatively stated, the absence or loss of external goods can severely test or even destroy happiness. But before we consider each of these reasons in turn, it is worth noting once again how Aristotle’s language is vague at key points. He says that it is “impossible or difficult” to act nobly without external goods, instead of choosing one of these two options to express his opinion. If it is impossible to act nobly without external goods, then it would seem that happiness is completely at the whim of fortune and unstable – a conclusion which he himself wants to avoid (1100b5–8), because it makes the happy man into a “chameleon.” If, on the other hand, it is “difficult” to act nobly without external goods, then strictly speaking, someone could be happy who lacks them all – a conclusion which he has already rejected as merely “defending a thesis” (1096a2–3). Under pressure from the views of the many as well as the views of the wise, Aristotle splits the difference in a way which is ultimately unsatisfactory. We find ambiguity at another key point when Aristotle says that the lack of some external goods “disfigures blessedness” (ῥυπαίvoυσι τὸ µακάριov). The introduction of ‘blessedness’ at this key point in the argument is, to say the least, infelicitous. Is ‘blessedness’ here a synonym for ‘happiness’? If so, it seems once again to place happiness at the whim of fortune. If not, then it seems that Aristotle is again distinguishing between ‘happiness’ and ‘blessedness’ in a way which he never fully articulates. Furthermore, the implications of the verb he uses (ῥυπαίvω) are unclear. If he had said ‘destroy’ (ἀπόλλυµι), it would be clear that happiness or blessedness would not be present in the face of such adversity. But ῥυπαίvω is used in connection with a garment’s becoming dirty or the spread of infection. A dirty garment remains a garment and may be more or less dirty; infections may be fatal, but are not necessarily so.81 This word seems to introduce degrees of happiness, instead of seeing it as an all or nothing matter. While it may not be wrong to see happiness in relative terms, connecting the various degrees of happiness with the presence or absence of external goods seems to suggest that the more external goods we have, the happier we are – an implication which contradicts Aristotle’s assertion that the theoretical life is happier because it requires less external goods. We now turn to consider the first role played by external goods in human happiness – that of instruments for performing noble deeds. Aristotle invites us to consider the role of friends, wealth, and political power in virtuous deeds.

White links this verb with 1101a9–11 and concludes that Aristotle means to suggest the destruction of happiness; see White 1992, 76 n. 17. But why would Aristotle use such an ambiguous word, if he meant to clearly teach the destruction of happiness here? 81

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The wealthy man who uses some of his wealth in order to erect a civic structure, for example, is enabled by that wealth to demonstrate greatness of soul in a way which would otherwise be impossible for him. The one who finds work for someone by speaking to a friend has, likewise, exhibited virtue in a way otherwise impossible. Yet for every case of someone’s using these external goods for virtuous deeds, we could list examples of others who have used them for vices. There are at least as many civic structures which demonstrate the vanity of their giver as those which show greatness of soul. Some more qualified people are often passed over in favour of an applicant who has personal connections. Indeed, in the case of the job, the very same action may exhibit both virtue (in that kindness is shown to the successful applicant) and vice (since that kindness meant that someone less qualified received the position). A survey of those who have held political power would likely reveal a similar result. Aristotle grants that external goods may be used for ill as well as good. Elsewhere he calls them “potentialities” (δυvάµεις) for this reason; yet he says that each of them is called a good thing because the test for each is how the good man uses it.82 His decision to call these things “good”, however, subjects his position to a great deal of tension. It seems strange, for example, to say that something which is good could be morally harmful; but that is precisely what Aristotle must say with reference to wealth (1094b18–19). It was this very problem with external goods which led the Stoics to label them ‘advantages’. The Stoics were uncomfortable with placing the same value on them as they placed on virtues. By calling them ‘advantages’ they ascribed some value to them, but not in comparison with the value possessed by virtue. Again, Aristotle grants that all the things which fall under this heading are “gifts of fortune” (ἀπὸ τύχης).83 But he himself says “that the greatest and noblest thing should be entrusted to fortune would be very outrageous” (1099b23–25). It would seem that the tension implicit in his position can be resolved in only one of two ways, neither of which he would wish to follow. On the one hand, he could say that external goods are not necessary to the performance of virtuous activity. This position, which would be very close to the Stoic view, would force him to reject the view of the many that happiness is tied together with external goods. On the other hand, he could admit that happiness is more or less dependent on the whims of fortune. But this would seem to undercut the doctrine that happiness is an activity, and would contradict the views of the wise. And what of the ‘negative’ role in happiness played by the lack of external goods? Aristotle’s description allows for three different kinds of negative considerations. One of those involves never having had external goods such as

Ps.-Aristotle, MM 1183b30–32. 83 Ps.-Aristotle, MM 1183b34. 82

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beauty, good children, and good birth. A second involves having had worthless children or friends. The third involves losing such goods which one once had. Sometimes happiness is hindered by our never having had the benefit of certain external goods. A person who has been born extremely ugly, for example, will likely have fewer opportunities to demonstrate the virtue of temperance. One who is childless and alone will have had no opportunity to show his ability to raise children who are an asset to the community. But how does the lack of good birth negatively impact a happy life? Presumably such a person would find his climb towards political influence handicapped by the lack of a relational network established by parents. Happiness is more seriously hindered if we have worthless children or friends. This would seem to be the case because in both these instances, we would have had some responsibility for the state of affairs. The worthlessness of children may be traced back to their parents to some degree by the community; the fact that someone chooses worthless people to be his friends seems to say something about his judgement. The worst case of all is that of the one who had such external goods, then lost them. For Aristotle, Priam is the key example of just such an unfortunate man. He began the Trojan War as a king with many sons and daughters; during the course of the war he saw all of them slain and fell himself at the hands of one of the Greek invaders. The problem with all of these types of negative considerations is that they seem to place our happiness at the mercy of fate or fortune. This would seem to deny the notion of happiness’ self-sufficiency, which Aristotle laid down as one of the formal criteria for happiness. Furthermore, if happiness can be marred by the lack of certain external goods, it would seem that only a fortunate few can ever hope to possess it. But this violates the notion that happiness is accessible to many. Again, to the degree that Aristotle places our happiness at the mercy of fate, he seems to argue against his own view, that happiness is an activity of the soul. Finally, as Aristotle himself hints and the Stoics make explicit, virtue is often most clearly seen in how we deal with adverse circumstances. It is this which leads Aristotle to say at 1100b34 that “no blessed man (µακαρίωv) can ever become miserable (ἄθλιoς)”. Once again Aristotle has used the ambiguous word ‘blessed’ at a critical point. Thus, as Julia Annas has pointed out, Aristotle’s view of happiness is unstable.84 Although he senses the conflict in the views of the many and the wise, he is methodologically committed to remaining within the circle of appearances. Wishing to be as inclusive as possible of various ideas, he ends up producing a position which cannot stand close scrutiny. The view of the many, which requires external goods for happiness, puts us at the mercy of things beyond

84

Annas 1993, 364–384.

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our ability to control for happiness, and renders happiness less than universally accessible. The view of the wise contradicts the common-sense notion that the happy life includes an assortment of external goods, as well as virtues, and makes us hold that the virtuous person who lacks all external goods is still happy. Since both the views of the wise and of the many are founded in appearances, Aristotle has no way to solve the conflict. Seeking to have the advantages of each, it appears that Aristotle has rather given himself double the difficulties to deal with.

3. Aristotle on Virtue, Emotions, and External Goods Aristotle’s doctrine of happiness holds that it is a compound of all the goods of the soul, as well as bodily and external goods. We have noted that contemporary interpreters of Aristotle disagree about the nature of that compound. Some claim Aristotle taught that bodily and external goods are parts of happiness; others say he taught that they are presuppositions of happiness. Since he stresses the centrality of the virtues (the goods of the soul) in happiness, it seems clear that Aristotle thought of happiness as a structured compound. It is less clear what that structure is. Both inclusive and dominant views have solid textual support for their positions. In either case, however, Aristotle plainly held that external goods are necessary for happiness; the Stoics disagreed. This disagreement on the role of external goods in happiness shapes the way that each school views emotion and virtue. It helps to explain why the Peripatetics advise that emotions be moderated, but the Stoics counsel their complete uprooting. It may also offer insight into the meaning of the Stoic doctrine of the εὐπάθειαι (literally, ‘good emotions’) despite their claim that emotion should be completely uprooted. L. A. Kosman has noted that Aristotle’s doctrine of emotion is rooted in his general ontological distinction between doing (πoιεῖv) and being done (πασχεῖv).85 This distinction, which I see constantly in the world around me, is also echoed in my own experience. When I hammer a nail, in so far as I cause the nail to go into the wood I am an active agent. But the nail also provides resistance to the hammer, and causes me to feel pressure in my hand. In my dealings with other people, I am an agent who speaks and acts as well as a patient who hears and feels. This duality of roles, Aristotle would argue, is part of my nature in the first sense of that term described above and provides a baseline which any ethical theory must consider. When we apply this dualist analysis to the kinds of goods which make up happiness, we see that there is a great difference between the goods of the soul, on the one hand, and bodily and external goods, on the other. Aristotle notes

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two ways this difference shows itself. In the first place, he says that virtue and vice depend on us (ἐφ᾽ ἡμῖν δὴ καὶ ἡ ἀρετή, ὁμοίως δὲ καὶ ἡ κακία).86 The system of justice presupposes that people are responsible for their actions, even in cases where alcohol or careless habits are involved. But the same is not true with bodily and external goods. Aristotle links bodily and external goods together with goods of fortune.87 Stephen White comments, in the terminology Aristotle often employs, bodily goods such as health, strength, and good looks and external goods such as wealth, honor, and power count as goods of fortune, since both our acquisition and our continued enjoyment of things in each class depend in many ways on fortune and events beyond our personal control.88

Calling these things ‘goods of fortune’ does not mean that they are completely beyond our personal control. Some of them, like good looks, are such that we have no control over their acquisition, but do have some control over their maintenance. We can wear hats and use sun screen to protect our skin from the harmful effects of sunlight. Others are such that we have more control over their acquisition and less control over their maintenance. Strength does not just happen; I acquire it by exercise and weightlifting. But I cannot guarantee that this strength will be maintained, since it can be lost by a stroke or some accident. When we call them ‘goods of fortune’, then, we do not mean to imply that no human responsibility is involved in having them. We mean that, at best, we are a necessary but not sufficient cause of our having or keeping them. The other respect in which the virtues are different from bodily and external goods in Aristotle’s view is that the virtues are necessarily good, but bodily and external goods are potentially good: Other goods, again, are potentialities (δυvάµεις); as authority, riches, strength, and beauty; for of these the good man has power to make good use, and the bad man power to make evil use. Hence goods of this kind are termed ‘potentialities’. Such potentialities are undoubtedly good things (since in each case the touchstone is the use made of them by the good man, and not by the bad); yet it is an attribute of them all that they are conferred on us by fortune.89

If we were told that someone is just, for example, it would make no sense to ask, ‘Is it good that she is just?’ But if we were told that someone is wealthy, it would be fitting to ask, ‘Is it good that she is wealthy?’. This was noted already by Plato in the Euthydemus at 279–281, and according to Diogenes Laertius 7.102–103, the Stoics make a similar point. Plato and the Stoics would both reject calling these external things ‘goods’.

Aristotle, EN 1113b6. 87 Aristotle, EN 1153b17–25. 88 White 1992, 71. 89 Ps.-Aristotle, MM 1183b28–34. Although the Magna moralia was not written by Aristotle, its views may be taken as an accurate expression of Peripatetic thought on this matter. 86

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But why? The idea that a bodily or external thing can be called good based on the use made of it by the good person has an implicit problem. Suppose someone serving as a political leader is struck down by an illness so serious that continued service is impossible. She takes the time she now has available to write and to advise younger leaders. Since her illness was conferred on this good person by fortune, and she has power to make good use of illness (and in this case does so), it would seem that illness can be considered a bodily good. The Peripatetics might respond that only those things called ‘good’ in normal usage should qualify as possible goods. Still, the political leader mentioned above could look back after some time had elapsed and, in the light of her work with young leaders, could say ‘It was good for me that I became ill; otherwise I would never have taken the time to help those younger leaders’. Again, if the external goods are but potentially good, and require the good man’s good use to be actualized, it would seem that ‘good’ and ‘evil’ have to do with use, not with the things themselves. But good and evil use are connected with the human agent, and hence with virtue and vice, not with external objects. We have noted that, for Aristotle, bodily and external goods are in some sense constituent parts of happiness. Now we have a natural desire for happiness; so it would seem that we also have a natural desire for these things. We have also noted that these things are, in the last analysis, not under our control, but come as gifts of fortune; so we are passive over against them. In the case of virtues, all those who strive to have them attain them (unless there is some obstacle). But in the case of bodily and external goods, I may strive unsuccessfully or, having attained them, I may lose them against my will. Precisely here is where Aristotle and the Stoics part company. Both of them would agree that I have a natural desire for bodily and external goods, when ‘natural’ is taken in the weaker sense of that term. The Stoics would not want to deny that I hunger, for example, or seek companionship. But Aristotle holds that this desire is also natural in the stronger, normative sense of the term. We have already seen, when discussing his view of happiness as self-sufficient, that he qualifies self-sufficiency in an important way: Now by self-sufficient we do not mean that which is sufficient for a man by himself, for one who lives a solitary life, but also for parents, children, wife, and in general for his friends and fellow citizens, since man is born for citizenship (φύσει πoλιτικὸv ὁ ἄvθρωπoς).90

On Aristotle’s view of happiness I function not only as agent, but also as recipient of things which I require for happiness; in this case, he refers to those relationships which he elsewhere calls the greatest external goods. Hence his ethical theory must include a positive role for the emotions, since they stem directly from my experience of myself as recipient of external goods. Nussbaum comments,

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there are things in the world that it is right to care about: friends, family, one’s own life and health, the worldly conditions of virtuous action. These can sometimes be damaged by events not under one’s own control. For these reasons it is right to have some fear. The good person, rather than being a fearless person, is one who will have appropriate rather than inappropriate fears – and not be deterred by them from doing what is required and noble.91

There is a deep inner connection, then, between the view that some things that are truly good are not under my control and the view that the good person will have a certain amount of emotion. That is why the Peripatetics counsel the prospective philosopher to moderate the emotions. Aristotle himself sees virtue as a mean (µεσότης) and vice as an excess or deficiency in action or emotion (1107a2–8). Hence, with regard to emotion, his ideal is to moderate emotions (μετριοπαθεῖν). According to Diogenes Laertius’ summary of Aristotle, “He said too that the wise man was not exempt from all passions (ἀπαθής), but indulged them in moderation (μετριοπαθεῖν)”.92 And the Suda, a medieval Byzantine lexicon, notes that “Aristotle says that the sage feels moderately (μετριοπαθεῖν), and is not exempt from passion (ἀπαθής)”.93 Though he himself is a Platonist, Plutarch echoes a Peripatetic concern when he writes to Apollonius on consolation: For I, for my part, cannot concur with those who extol that harsh and callous indifference (ἀπάθειαv), which is both impossible and unprofitable […]. But to be carried beyond all bounds and to help in exaggerating our griefs I say is contrary to nature, and results from our depraved ideas. Therefore this also must be dismissed as injurious and depraved and most unbecoming to right-minded men, but a moderate indulgence in grief (µετριoπάθειαv) is not to be disapproved.94

Plutarch advises a grieving father that the virtue of wisdom shows itself in the context of grieving as a mean between indifference and extravagant emotion (δυσπάθεια).95 In contrast to the Peripatetic school, the Stoic ideal was ἀπάθεια, or freedom from emotion. The goal of virtue was not to moderate, but to uproot emotion. Barlaam is completely in line with the Stoic ideal when he says, “So our effort must not be directed to cutting off disturbances,96 but to complete their extirpation” (ESS 2.15). We will explore this Stoic ideal later and compare it to the

Nussbaum 1994, 94. 92 Diog. Laert. 5.31. 93 Suda M811 (Adler 1928–38, iii, 377). 94 Plutarch, Cons. Apoll. 102c–d (trans. LCL). 95 At its root, as demonstrated in Dillon 1983, was the dispute between Platonists and Peripatetics, on the one hand, and the Stoics on the other hand, about whether the soul has an irrational part as well as a rational part. The Stoics held a unitary view; the Peripatetics and Platonists held a dual or threefold view. 96 Disturbances: perturbationes, the Latin word which translates the Greek πάθη, emotions. 91

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Peripatetic view, but we now consider how Aristotle’s view of external goods and the naturalness of emotion lead him to develop his view of virtue. Aristotle defines virtue at EN 1106b36–1107a1: Virtue, then, is a state of character concerned with choice (ἕξις πρoαιρετική), lying in a mean, i.e. the mean relative to us, this being determined by a rational principle, and by that principle by which the man of practical wisdom would determine it. Now it is a mean between two vices, that which depends on excess and that which depends on defect; and again it is a mean because the vices respectively fall short of or exceed what is right in both passions and actions, while virtue both finds and chooses that which is intermediate.

As a state of character, virtue is contrasted with abilities and emotions, the two other kinds of things found in the human soul. Aristotle notes three factors97 which distinguish states of character from emotions and abilities, two of which Barlaam also cites frequently as unique elements in virtue.98 First of these is that we are not pronounced good or bad based on our emotions or our ability to have these emotions. Suppose that someone is afraid in a given situation. The fact that he is afraid is not per se enough reason to pronounce him good or bad. It may be that the fear is justified, either because it arises in a situation beyond human endurance (1115b7) or because it is reasonable under the circumstances (1115b12); on the other hand, it may not be justified. The courageous man is not the one who never fears, but the one who fears in the right way under the right circumstances (1115b18–20). What is true of the emotion is also true of the ability to feel it. Given two people, one of whom is naturally inclined more than the other to fear, we would not judge the one to be a better person for that reason alone. A person to whom fear comes easily might be judged better than one to whom fear comes more slowly, if both become afraid in the same situation. Unlike emotions or abilities, virtue has the characteristic that the one who possesses it is called ‘good’ for that reason. The second factor which distinguishes virtue from emotions and abilities is that we are praised or blamed based on virtue, but not based on our emotions and abilities. The same things that were just said about fear and goodness could here be said, mutatis mutandis, about fear and praiseworthiness. We praise the one who fears at a fitting time in a fitting way. We blame the one who fears at an inappropriate time, or in an inappropriate way. Both of these factors fit neatly into Aristotle’s method of ethics, which is content to remain within the ‘circle of appearances’.99 The linguistic community praises and blames and calls good or bad. Within that community, of course, the man of practical wisdom occupies a privileged place, for he

For the purposes of this essay, I shall ignore a fourth way Aristotle marks the virtues as states of character: the linguistic argument that we are not ‘moved’, but ‘disposed’ in a certain way with respect to the virtues and vices (EN 1106a4–5). 98 Barlaam, ESS 1.7–9, 12. 99 Compare above, 120. 97

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understands how to determine the best course of action (i.e. the ‘mean’) in a given situation (1107a1–2). It is less clear at first, however, how a Stoic like Barlaam can use these factors.100 The third factor Aristotle mentions is the fact that virtues and vices involve choice in a way that emotions and abilities do not. We do not choose to get angry, for example; as a πάθος, anger is something we feel under certain circumstances. It is true that Aristotle sees our emotions as signs of our moral status, and the one who does the virtuous thing but does not feel pleasure in doing it has not yet attained the virtue in question. To understand how on the one hand we can be liable for feeling the wrong πάθος or the proper πάθος to the wrong degree, while on the other hand the πάθη are not matters of choice, we may note the following distinction. I do not choose the πάθος of anger, either in a given instance or as a general rule (although I do aim for hitting an appropriate level of anger, according to 1109a25). But I do choose to act in ways which either result in appropriate anger at appropriate times, or else in inappropriate anger. Inappropriate anger is a sign of the vice of wrathfulness, and I am culpable for that vice. Although Aristotle makes a clear distinction between virtue and emotion, his claim that emotions are natural in the strong sense means that he must explain the relationship between them in the happy life. As we might expect, there is a two-way relation between them. Since the emotions are natural in the strong sense, virtue cannot serve to rid us of them. If that were their goal, and we were successful in achieving it, the result would be a person less than fully human, a person with a “harsh and callous indifference”, to use Plutarch’s phrase. Rather, the virtues serve to moderate the emotions. Aristotle says, “the vices respectively fall short of or exceed what is right in both passions and actions, while virtue both finds and chooses that which is intermediate”.101 Consider the virtue of courage. When I am in a situation which calls for courage, I may initially feel an excess of fear. Virtue recognizes that I am not in balance, and moves me to act against my feeling of fear. The next time I am in a similar situation, I will tend to react with somewhat less fear. Over time, when I act properly in a number of similar situations, I will have trained my emotions to be in balance. But I will never seek complete absence of fear, for then I will have fallen into the vice of rashness. The emotions have their part to play in virtue. When they are properly trained, the Peripatetics argue that they are powerful motivators to proper action. The anger I feel at the murder of my parents moves me to seek justice

As we shall see, Barlaam’s use of praiseworthiness and goodness will hinge on the adverb ‘rightly’, which in turn is founded on the concept of what is distinctive to a human being (ESS 1.7). 101 Aristotle, EN 1107a4–6. 100

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against those who committed the crime. Without a proper level of anger, I would have no motivation to right the wrong. Likewise, anger is necessary for the soldier in battle. Seneca cites an otherwise unknown writing of Aristotle, which says: “Anger […] is necessary, and no battle can be won without it – unless it fills the mind and fires the soul; it must serve, however, not as a leader, but as the common soldier”.102 The emotions also serve as signs of our moral status, as we noted above. Aristotle says that self-restraint is not a virtue, but a mixture of virtue and vice (EN 1128b35) because the self-restrained man does the right thing against his evil desires, whereas the temperate man does not have those desires. When I engage in self-restrained activity with the appropriate feeling accompanying it, I know that I am temperate. Again, the unrestrained man is distinguished from the profligate man by the fact that the unrestrained man feels remorse after his excesses (EN 1150b29–31).

4. Aristotle: Some Critical Comments Aristotle’s doctrine of the role of bodily and external goods in happiness shows great promise, because he takes seriously the two sources of ethical discourse. Nevertheless, it suffers from a deep inner inconsistency which renders that promise ultimately null and void, and necessitates the Stoic correction. Both the views of the crowd and those of the wise receive consideration by Aristotle; each of them refines and modifies the views of the other. He rejects the common idea that the end of life is pleasure by calling such a life “fit for cattle” (EN 1095b20); yet later in the EN he takes up pleasure once again to show what is true in the crowd’s view, and says “we suppose that happiness must (δεῖv) contain an element of pleasure”.103 Those who hold that virtue is happiness, even when someone is suffering great misfortune, are merely “defending a thesis” (EN 1096a2), but there is truth in this view also, because it suggests that virtue is stable and relatively unshakeable. Aristotle’s approach to the two sources of ethical discourse is summarized by the remarks he makes as he surveys previous views: Some of these views have been held by many people and from ancient times, others by a few distinguished men, and neither class is likely to be altogether mistaken; the probability is that their beliefs are at least partly, or indeed mainly, correct.104

The weakness of Aristotle’s approach is plain in these words. We seek certainty about ethics, but receive probability; when the two sources seem to disagree

Seneca, Ira 1.8.2. 103 Aristotle, EN 1177a23 (emphasis mine). 104 Aristotle, EN 1098b27–30. 102

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we want a way to resolve the disagreement, but only hear Aristotle saying that both sides are partly or mainly correct. Twice Aristotle says that because of the nature of ethical language we must be content with generalities and uncertainties (EN 1094b17–18; 1098b29–30). Aristotle sees the target of the ethical life the way a near-sighted person sees an archery target. Such a view may make hitting the target more likely than if one were blind, but prospective archers will naturally desire more precision. Because Aristotle’s method allows normal patterns of speech and behaviour to criticize the views of the wise, his portrayal of the subject of ethics seems more realistic than the Stoics’ portrayal. He takes physical drives seriously and sees the virtue of temperance as a key part of life, moderating these physical drives. His ethical subject lives under relatively normal circumstances in a city made up of relatively similar subjects. Relationships among these subjects, especially the relationship of friendship, play a key role in the ethical life. Although modern critics may assert that εὐδαιµοvία is too constricting an ideal, not allowing the individual to put non-ethical priorities ahead of ethical ones, at least Aristotle’s subject does not suffocate under the universalizability of ethical demands seen in contemporary consequentialist and deontological theories. Aristotle also offers a defence of the need for bodily and external goods in happiness which seems to acknowledge that our end must be complete and selfsufficient. By itself virtue is incomplete, because it is fulfilled in actions; and those actions require that we have some bodily and external goods as instruments to carry out our virtuous dispositions. External goods are certainly required to demonstrate such central virtues as magnanimity. And the self-sufficiency which happiness possesses is not that of a hermit, but of a citizen who has meaningful relationships. And yet there is in the Aristotelian model a deep inconsistency which undercuts the promise found in his approach. Aristotelian happiness is a compound of all human goods. In the case of the soul’s goods, the virtues, we have the capability both to attain and to keep them. In the case of bodily and external goods we are ultimately passive, for despite the fact that we expend effort to attain and keep them we are dependent on the whim of fortune for achieving them. By granting that happiness is dependent in part on bodily and external goods, Aristotle opens his system to the problem of moral luck, as that has been discussed by Thomas Nagel. Aristotle must surely admit that, for his moral agent, “how things turn out determines what he has done”.105 The view that

Nagel 1990, 29–30. Although Nagel allows a far greater role for luck in the moral life than does Aristotle, it is worth noting that he, like Aristotle, appeals to common experience as the underpinning of his position: “We may be persuaded that these moral judgements are irrational, but they reappear involuntarily as soon as the argument is over. This is the pattern throughout the subject.” 105

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bodily and external goods carry some moral weight also undercuts the centrality of the moral agent in ethics, an emphasis which Aristotle shared with nearly every ancient school. Nagel’s concern that “the effect of concentrating on the influence of what is not under [the agent’s] control is to make this responsible self seem to disappear, swallowed up by the order of mere events”106 could justly be raised about the Aristotelian view of happiness. Since no chain is stronger than its weakest link, the security of Aristotle’s view of happiness seems to be fatally compromised by allowing goods which are dependent on fortune to have a part in that happiness. We may well ask whether happiness which is insecure is really happiness at all. “That the greatest and noblest of all things should be left to fortune would be too contrary to the fitness of things”,107 Aristotle says; but that is just what his view implies. In addition, Aristotle offers no way of balancing between these two types of good in the happy life. Normally when we wish to compare disparate things, there is a third thing in terms of which we can give them relative weight. Money, for example, allows us to assign relative value to things as varied as a new car and the health care of an old horse. But what ‘currency’ can be used to assign relative value to primary goods, on the one hand, and bodily and external goods, on the other hand? Aristotle’s only suggestion is that in the relationship between the two kinds of goods, virtue is ‘helped’ by bodily and external goods. He never explains the nature and extent of that help.

5. Barlaam on External Goods and Happiness We see the strength of Barlaam’s approach to the problem we are discussing when we remember one of the most common charges levelled against the Stoics by the Peripatetics: the claim that, beneath it all, the difference between Stoics and Peripatetics on this issue was merely verbal. Cicero says to Cato, the Stoic representative in De finibus, If, Cato, the discussion is to turn on facts, disagreement between me and yourself is out of the question: since your views and mine are the same in every particular, if only we compare the actual substance after making the necessary changes in terms.108

The Stoics taught that virtue alone is sufficient for happiness, but added that we may pursue bodily and external goods, which they sometimes called ‘advantages’,109 when that pursuit does not violate virtue. To the Peripatetics, this was linguistic chicanery, a re-phrasing of the substance of Aristotle’s

Nagel 1990, 36. 107 Aristotle, EN 1099b23–24. 108 Cicero, Fin. 4.60. 109 The standard Stoic term was ‘preferred indifferents’; Barlaam follows the usage of Seneca in calling them ‘advantages’. See n. 11 above for a fuller discussion of this point. 106

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position.110 As we noted above, contemporary interpreters of Aristotle are divided on how to understand his doctrine. On the inclusivist reading, happiness is a compound whose parts are the virtues, together with bodily and external goods. It is not clear exactly how the parts of the compound are combined in this view; Ackrill says that when Aristotle speaks of virtue and bodily goods being ‘for the sake of’ happiness, he means that they are parts of which the whole is happiness. While this may explain the relation of the parts to the whole, it does not spell out how those parts relate to each other. On the dominant reading, bodily and external goods are the material of happiness, which is shaped by the virtues. In the case of liberality, for example, the external good of wealth is the material which is formed by the virtue of liberality. Just as the individual human being is a structured compound of body and soul, so human happiness is a structured compound of the goods of soul and body, ordered in a way analogous to the ordering of the parts of the human individual. Kraut says the ‘for the sake of’ relation involves two features: causality and norming. Wealth causes liberality in that it makes liberality possible, and liberality norms wealth in that it governs our acquisition and use of wealth. The Stoic doctrine on the role of bodily and external goods in happiness is very close to a dominant reading of Aristotle’s doctrine, in particular, a dominant reading which accents theoretical above political virtue. Both views see external goods as the material or substrate for happiness, and hence can explain the relationship between the virtues and the external goods in a way that is difficult for the inclusivist view. Both views reject the Cynic renunciation of all external goods. In general, when some claim that the Stoics and Peripatetics teach the same thing in different words, they have the dominant Peripatetic position in mind. When the Stoics reject this claim, they usually identify the Peripatetic position in inclusivist terms. But by tracing the two doctrines back to different definitions of happiness, Barlaam’s approach reveals that there is a substantive difference between the Stoics, on one hand, and any reading of Aristotle’s doctrine, on the other. Most of his critique, it is true, is aimed at an inclusivist view. Thus, in ESS 1.20 he argues that the Peripatetics have no mechanism to give proper weight to each of the three things they claim make up happiness. This argument is effective against an inclusivist view, but the dominant view can respond by saying that we should pursue external goods only in so far as they increase virtue. The dominant view cannot respond, however, to the assertion that because bodily and external goods are of a different genus than the virtues, they have no place in the definition of happiness. That seems to be the point of Barlaam’s argument in ESS 1.3–4, when he argues that since happiness is composed only

Compare with Cicero, Fin 5.74: “It is a regular practice of thieves to alter the marks upon stolen goods; and the Stoics, in order to pass off our opinions as their own, have changed the names, which are the marks of things.” 110

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of goods which are distinctive to human beings, it cannot be increased when other kinds of goods are added to it. Barlaam also implicitly shows the error within even the dominant view when he notes that the form of happiness is comprised of the soul’s goods alone. The Peripatetics included bodily and external goods in their view of happiness because they allowed consideration of the substrate of human happiness – the individual human being – to creep into the discussion of the form of human happiness. This is all the more surprising, given Aristotle’s discussion of form and matter in connection with his examination of definition in Metaphysics 7.9: For even if the line when divided passes away into its halves, or the man into bones and muscles and flesh, it does not follow that they are composed of these as parts of their essence, but rather as matter; and these are parts of the concrete thing, but not also of the form, i.e. of that to which the formula refers; wherefore also they are not present in the formulae […]. ‘A part’ may be a part either of the form (i.e. of the essence), or of the compound of the form and the matter, or of the matter itself. But only the parts of the form are parts of the formula, and the formula is of the universal; for ‘being a circle’ is the same as the circle, and ‘being a soul’ the same as the soul. But when we come to the concrete thing, e.g. this circle, i.e. one of the individual circles, whether perceptible or intelligible (I mean by intelligible circles the mathematical, and by perceptible circles those of bronze and of wood) – of these there is no definition, but they are known by the aid of intuitive thinking or of perception.111

Aristotle began the Nicomachean Ethics by searching for the definition of happiness, an abstract noun, as we noted above.112 But when he considers the opinion of the many he makes a subtle shift, away from a definition of happiness to a description of the happy man. The error he appears to make here would be akin to the error one would make if one defined man as ‘body and soul’, instead of as a ‘rational mortal animal’.113 Because Barlaam sees the difference between Stoic and Peripatetic doctrines of happiness as rooted in a difference in definition, he is also able to make the case for the Stoic doctrine of happiness in a way which any Peripatetic would have to take seriously. While the doctrine Barlaam defends is Stoic, the way he presents it is thoroughly Aristotelian. Barlaam not only makes use of Aristotelian terms like ‘form’ and ‘mean’,114 and definitions like that of man as ‘an

Aristotle, Metaph. 1035a17–22 and 1035b33–1036a7, emphasis mine. 112 See above, 105. 113 In fact, Cicero makes this explicit when in Fin. 4.25 he says, “we are then human beings, consisting of soul and body, and these of a certain kind. These we are bound to esteem, as our earliest natural instinct demands, and out of these we must construct our End, our Chief and Ultimate Good ” (emphasis mine). 114 Barlaam’s use of ‘mean’ (mediocritas) is instructive as an example of his selective use of Aristotelian terminology. He uses it in ESS 2.2, 2.9, and 2.12, but always with reference to actions, never with reference to passions. One of the key elements in the Peripatetic use of the term was its use with reference to passions; Plutarch describes ethical virtues as “not 111

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animal partaking of reason and mind’; he also presents the Stoic view in the form of a demonstration, showing a thorough grasp of the Posterior Analytics, and his criticisms of the Peripatetic view rely on commonplaces regarding definitions found in Aristotle’s Topics, as we shall see when we consider each of those criticisms. The ESS thus continues the pattern of each school’s adopting and adapting the insights of the other in formulating and defending its position. The approach to the problem of bodily and external goods in happiness found in the ESS has a further benefit. When Aristotle spoke about definition, he had said, “it is easier to do anything, no matter what, than to do it correctly”.115 Thus, the job of the critic is made far easier on this approach. Corresponding to this benefit, however, is a serious drawback: the issue of whether the Stoic definition of happiness has been correctly drawn. Finally, Barlaam’s insight that the difference between the Peripatetics and Stoics on bodily and external goods can be traced back to a difference in the definition of happiness also influences the form his exposition takes.116 Book 1 of the ESS clearly has a rhetorical form. He makes use of rhetorical terms in Book 1, speaking explicitly of the ‘exordium’ and ‘conclusio’, which are parts of an oration.117 He sums up his argument in the conclusion by saying, “and so from all the things we have said above, we reach the final conclusion at last, to which all things in this oration (in hac oratione) have led”. It seems that Book 1 can be loosely outlined in accordance with the four parts of an oration listed by Cicero in De partitione oratoria 7.27: the introduction, narrative, proof, and peroration. Chapter 1 is the introduction to Barlaam’s oration. Chapters 2–14 are a narrative demonstrating that happiness is the same as virtue. Chapters 15– 31a prove the Stoic doctrine of happiness against the Peripatetic doctrine. Chapter 31b is the conclusion. The rest of Book 1, Chapters 32–34, is an appendix relating the Stoic doctrine to the Platonic doctrine. In De partitione oratoria, Cicero divides questions (quaestiones) into two types: causes, which deal with particular occasions and persons, and theses,

the absence of passion but a due proportion and measure therein (οὐκ ἀπαθείας οὔσας ἀλλὰ συμμετρίας παθῶν καὶ μεσότητας)” in Virt. mor. 443d. This may be a good time to point out that, while Plutarch is not a Peripatetic but a Platonist, in the central issues dividing the Peripatetics and Stoics (e.g. is there an irrational component to the soul?), he comes down decidedly on the Peripatetic side. This issue is discussed in some detail in Karamanolis 2020. Within the text of Barlaam, he explicitly sees agreement between Stoics and Platonists, and opposes the Peripatetics. 115 Aristotle, Top. 139b8–9. 116 The Stoics often argue in rhetorical form; Nussbaum 1994, 330, notes for the Stoics the rhetorical and literary dimensions of an argument are not mere incidental frills: they are part and parcel of what the business of arguing is all about. 117 Compare with Ps.-Cicero, Ad Herennium 1.3.4: “Invention is used for the six parts of a discourse (orationis): the Introduction (exordium), Statement of Facts, Division, Proof, Refutation, and Conclusion (conclusionem).”

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which are unlimited. He then says that theses about knowledge can be divided into three classes: (1) whether or not a thing exists (sit necne), (2) what a thing is (quid sit), and (3) what sort of thing is it (quale sit).118 In the introduction to the ESS, Barlaam sets forth the nature of the questions he intends to explore: “So calling this end (the best human life possible) by the one word ‘happiness’, as others do too, let us ask (queramus) what it is (quid sit), and in what things it consists.” This is not to say that Book 1 of the ESS was delivered as a speech. It is, rather, an example of what George Kennedy calls letteraturizzazione – “the repeated slippage of rhetoric into literary composition”.119 In this slippage, the elements of rhetoric most often seen are the use of topics, rhetorical structure, and tropes.120 The ESS does not use tropes, which could decrease its effectiveness as philosophical literature. But we have already noted its rhetorical structure, and the fact that Barlaam makes the most of the topic of definition as that is found in Aristotle’s Topics.

6. The Stoic Definition is Demonstrated (ESS 1.2–14) The Peripatetic view of human happiness issued key challenges which the Stoics had to address. The Stoic doctrine, which held that virtue alone is sufficient for happiness, seemed to fall foul of the requirement that happiness should be complete. In the first place, it seems that virtue, which is a disposition to action, is not complete without action. Someone in a coma could possess all the virtues; but we would hardly describe that person as ‘happy’ if those virtues are never completed by virtuous action. In the second place, the Peripatetics claim, it seems that virtue requires a certain measure of external goods simply to get off the ground. It makes no sense to speak of liberality in connection with someone who has no resources, and without a certain measure of attractiveness one will have little or no opportunity to demonstrate the virtue of self-control. Finally, if happiness consists in virtue alone, and external goods play no role in happiness whatsoever, then it would appear that the Stoic view forgets that our nature is both body and soul. Their definition of happiness would thus be incomplete, because it is a definition of the happiness of the soul only. The Peripatetics also alleged that if the difference between them and the Stoics on the role of external goods in happiness were more than verbal, then the Stoic position would collapse into the Cynic view.121 It is undeniable that some Stoics held a high view of the Cynics. Epictetus speaks of the Cynic in

Cicero, De part. or. 18.62. 119 Kennedy 1980, 109. 120 Ibid. 112. 121 See Irwin 1986, 205. 118

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terms which suggest a religious vocation: the one who would be a Cynic must be certain that God wants him to be such, and the Cynic serves as a “messenger from Zeus” and “a spy of the things which are good for men and which are evil”.122 He does not criticize the Cynics, but seeks to emphasize the rarity of one who can truly carry out the Cynic task of criticism and complete disregard for external goods. From the beginning of the Stoa, some of its key thinkers (e.g. Aristo) had downplayed the distinction between preferred and non-preferred indifferents – blurring the line between Stoic and Cynic doctrine on this point.123 Nevertheless, the Stoics as a whole did distinguish their view of external goods not only from that of the Peripatetics, but also from that of the Cynics. Against the Peripatetics, they maintained that external goods have no moral value at all. Against the Cynics, they maintained that alongside moral goodness there were other kinds of value (ἀξία). The wise man will prefer to have things such as life, health, and friends over their opposites, assuming that the things in question do not harm his moral purpose. Terence Irwin suggests that when the Stoics disavow the radical Cynic rejection of all external goods, they open themselves to the same sorts of criticism they themselves direct against the Peripatetics: “The problem arises if we assume, reasonably, that virtue and the preferred indifferents together constitute a valuable result (call it the Total) that is more valuable than virtue alone.”124 Even if we grant that happiness consists in virtue alone, we can compare two situations, one in which happiness is combined with a supply of external goods (Irwin’s ‘Total’), and the other in which virtue is alone. Surely, Irwin says, it is not unreasonable to say that the first of these situations has more value than the second. If the Stoics agree with this argument, then there seems to be no difference between them and the Peripatetics, and a situation could arise in which there is a conflict between virtue and some other element of the Total. If they disagree, then it seems that their position collapses into the Cynic position. Barlaam considers just such a case when he sets forth the definition of happiness. Bodily and external goods play no role in happiness at all, because they are a different genus of good: For if there are any other human ‘goods’, which are nevertheless not distinctively human [goods], it is clear that [even if] they have been added to that happiness which consists of all distinctively human goods, they will not increase it such that distinctive human happiness is greater because of them. For even in such a combination, the whole complex of both genera

Epictetus, Diss. 3.22. 123 Cicero, Fin. 3.12. 124 Irwin 1986, 236. 122

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of goods would neither be called, nor understood, nor be distinctively human happiness except by reason of those human goods which are distinctively human goods.125

Irwin’s ‘Total’ is a mixed end, made up of different kinds of goods. When he says that a life with external goods has more value than a life of virtue alone, he is assuming that the kind of value which virtue has is, in some sense, commensurable with the kind of value that external goods have. It is precisely this assumption that the Stoics would dispute; as Barlaam says, the happiness which consists of all distinctively human goods is not increased by the addition of other genera of goods. The problem for Barlaam and the Stoics, then, is how to distinguish their view from that of the Cynics, by showing just what sort of value bodily and external goods have, and how that value relates to moral value. Barlaam makes the case for the Stoic point of view when he discusses the topic of advantages and disadvantages, as we shall see. Now let us turn to the demonstration of the Stoic view of happiness, found in ESS 1.2–14. The major premise of the argument is the definition of happiness, found in Chapter 5: happiness is a complete collection of all distinctively human goods. The minor premise is that (a) virtue is a distinctively human good (ESS 1.6) and (b) no other genus of good is distinctively human (ESS 1.7– 13). The conclusion is that virtue alone suffices for true human happiness (ESS 1.14). The key to Barlaam’s demonstration is his major premise, the definition of human happiness. He himself notes that there is no dispute on the definition of virtue, so we can expect that the greatest challenge to his view will be a challenge of the notion that human happiness is a complete collection of all distinctively human goods. Two elements are important in this definition. First is the notion that happiness is a collection, or aggregate (complexum, aggregatio). Any aggregate that has more than an accidental unity (such as a mixture of corn and sand, which is one in that it is in one place) must find that unity in its elements all being in the same genus (such as a heap of corn). Nor can an aggregate be essentially increased by adding to it something of another genus. If, for example, I add sand to a heap of corn, I have not made it a greater heap of corn. Barlaam notes, For no aggregate can be increased by adding other generically different things. For lines are not increased by the addition of points, nor are surfaces increased by the addition of lines, nor are solids increased by the addition of surfaces, nor is a mixture of various liquids increased by adding colours or odours to it. (ESS 1.3)

Here he uses two sorts of illustrations to make his point, one kind drawn from geometry and one kind drawn from physics. Consider a triangle, A-B-C. If I draw a line outside the triangle, I do not increase the triangle in any way. Nor do I increase the triangle if I draw a line inside it, since that line was already

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part of the triangle. Similarly, if I have a mixture of oil and water, and add food colouring to the mixture, I have not increased the mixture of liquids as mixture. Both sorts of illustration carry two implications. First, one element in the aggregate is equally an element in the aggregate as another. Line A-B is as much an element of A-B-C as line B-C; oil is just as much a part of the oilwater mixture as is water. Second, the various elements making up the aggregate can have a certain ordering towards each other. While line A-B is equally important as line B-C, it is not the same as B-C. In the oil-water mixture, oil tends to remain distinct from water. Both of these implications are relevant for the virtues, in which alone, the Stoics say, happiness consists. The first implication reminds us of the unity of the virtues, a doctrine connecting the Stoics with Socrates. To truly have one virtue is to have them all. The second implication reminds us that the unity of the virtues is not undifferentiated identity. Different situations call for the display of distinct virtues. We would not say of someone who fights bravely in battle that he is displaying temperance, but instead courage. Now if human happiness is an aggregate, what sort of parts combine to make up that aggregate? This brings us to the second element in Barlaam’s definition of happiness: the notion that happiness is an aggregate of all distinctively human goods.126 But what does it mean to say that a good is distinctively human? Here the Peripatetics and Stoics clearly part company. The Peripatetics take a molecular view of distinctiveness, as that pertains to human goods. They begin by considering human beings as they appear concretely: not only individual organisms, but also citizens connected with each other in a web of relationships. The term distinctive is not applied to individual human goods considered in isolation, but to the proper combination of those goods considered as a whole. We have already seen that when Aristotle speaks of the self-sufficiency of happiness, he refers explicitly to the social aspect of human nature.127 Again, when he considers human goods in isolation, he notes that not only the external good of wealth, but also the virtue of courage, can sometimes have harmful consequences.128 The basis of this view of distinctiveness is rooted in the Peripatetic philosophical method which, as we have already seen, is empirically oriented. The task of critical thought is to explain the appearances, and while analysis may lead us to re-order the phenomena of experience, it can never cause us completely to reject them. This leads the Peripatetics to charge the Stoics with cutting out significant aspects of human nature; Cicero takes the Peripatetic point of view when he says to Cato: “My question then is, how comes it that so many things that Nature strongly recommends have suddenly been abandoned by

The Latin construction which I have translated as ‘distinctively x’ is ‘x ut x est’. 127 See above, 108. 128 Aristotle, EN 1094b18. 126

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Wisdom?”129 The molecular view of distinctiveness has much to commend it. It suggests that our physical and social interactions are essential aspects of our happiness and, true to our experience, it allows that morality concerns itself not only with how we act, but also with how we are acted on. But it offers us no way to sort through the internal tension (not to say contradiction) between the importance of security and self-sufficiency which happiness requires, on the one hand, and the social interdependence which it asserts as an essential component in what is distinctively human, on the other. Furthermore, if we admit the notion that how we are acted on can affect our happiness, which the Peripatetics do when they claim that many reverses harm happiness, then we introduce a radically un-stabilizing element into our ethical theory. Despite Aristotle’s attempt to argue that his view preserves a great measure of stability in happiness (EN 1100b18–19), his admission as elements of happiness things which are subject to chance and to the whim of other people undercuts the very stability he seeks. Unlike the Peripatetics, the Stoics take an atomic view of distinctiveness, as it pertains to happiness. Distinctiveness is principally connected with the elements which make up human happiness, and the whole of human happiness is distinctively human because each of the parts which comprise it is distinct to the happy human being. Since human misery can exist in human beings no less than happiness, an element a is not a distinctively human good even if it is found only in humans. An element a is a distinctively human good if and only if it is found in happy human beings. The Stoics founded this notion of distinctiveness on their rational/critical philosophical method. Like the Platonists, but unlike the Peripatetics, they rejected the notion that what appears to be natural must in fact be natural. The task of philosophical reflection is to test appearances by means of reason, and to be prepared to reject whatever fails the test, even if the result seems to be paradoxical. But how could they have such confidence in the ability of reason to test the appearances? It is because at root they were convinced that the reason by which we judge appearances is consubstantial with nature.130 For them, the Peripatetic view allows elements into the distinctive human good which are uncertain, vague, and self-contradictory; this in turn leads to a radical undercutting of the possibility of happiness and, within the individual human being, to the experience of disturbance. The Stoic view of distinctiveness allows a secure foundation for identity and happiness, because the elements which make it up have passed the test of reason. The challenge it faces is to explain the source of the widespread but erroneous view that bodily and external goods are

Cicero, Fin. 4.26. 130 Colish 1990, i, 27 ff. 129

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parts of human happiness; Stoicism’s greatest failure is its inability to explain the source of this and other human error.131 The demonstration that virtue alone comprises happiness continues in ESS 1.6 with a definition of virtue. Barlaam claims that he defines virtue as all philosophers do,132 and certainly the main ancient schools would agree with the elements his definition includes: Virtue is the best disposition of the soul, from which good and praiseworthy [acts of] will, judgements, and actions proceed (each of which is the best of its own kind), and which makes those in whom it exists good and praiseworthy.133

Both Peripatetics and Stoics could agree on the elements of this definition, at least as far as it goes. Aristotle, too, had spoken of virtue as a disposition to action in EN 1099a30–31, where he added that its value for happiness lies in its production of actions. He also granted that the virtue (ἀρετή) of any given thing “renders the thing itself good”134 and that we are pronounced good or bad and praised or blamed because of our virtues or vices respectively.135 Aristotle’s assertion that virtue was worthless apart from its expression in action led the Stoics to radically internalize the notion of action. The normal Stoic point of view held that the will’s intention is itself moral action, and the outward performance of the inner disposition is but an aftergrowth which, strictly speaking, is morally irrelevant.136 Barlaam, however, takes a different approach. Instead of internalizing the notion of action, he says that even the activities of everyday life done by the virtuous man count as virtuous actions: For to think, lie down, sit, stand, walk, keep silent, talk, deal with one’s bodily necessities; to see or hear something, move bodily members, assent to and comply with someone decently and rationally; or not to refuse sorrows and sufferings for the sake of maintaining constancy and good faith – such things which a virtuous man cannot lack at any time are virtuous actions, and are produced by virtue.137

Perhaps the popularity of the Stoic position among church fathers (there are three different Christian paraphrases of Epictetus’ Enchiridion) may be explained because they were able to deal with the philosophical problem of error by adding a theological presupposition: the Fall. 132 Barlaam’s definition of virtue is verbally almost identical to that of Cicero in Tusc. 4.34. 133 Barlaam, ESS 1.6. 134 Aristotle, EN 1106a15–17. 135 Aristotle, EN 1105b30–35. 136 Compare with Cicero, Fin. 3.32: “in conduct, when we speak of an action as ‘wise’, the term is applied with full correctness from the first inception of the act. For every action that the Wise Man initiates must necessarily be complete forthwith in all its parts”. See also Nussbaum 1994, 363. 137 Barlaam, ESS 1.22. Note that Arius Didymus’ summary of Stoic ethics includes ‘walking prudently’ as a morally perfect action (2,96,20–22 WH): “[morally] perfect actions are such things: being prudent, being temperate, acting justly, feeling joy, doing good works, 131

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Barlaam’s reply takes seriously the Peripatetic concern that ‘action’ be something which takes place externally, and deals with the concern by broadening the scope of activities counting as virtuous. Virtuous actions are whatever actions are done by the virtuous man, no matter how common or lowly they might seem; even willing submission to suffering is a virtuous action.138 Some of the greatest actions, in fact, have the appearance of being inactive. Although this reply is not standard, it is consistent with the Stoic emphasis on the human being as moral agent. That emphasis is at the root of the Stoic denial of moral luck. For the Stoics, if a thing involves luck or chance (τύχη) it is not, strictly speaking, relevant to morality. Thomas Nagel’s claim that “there are various respects in which the natural objects of moral assessment are out of our control or influenced by what is out of our control”139 is consistent with the Peripatetic view, but directly contradicts the Stoics. Epictetus begins the Enchiridion by distinguishing between the things which are under our control and those which are not.140 The sphere of morality is identical with the sphere of those things which are under our control. Nagel himself admits that when we admit things over which we have no control to the sphere of morality, we destroy the moral agent: Moral judgement of a person is judgement not of what happens to him, but of him. It does not say merely that a certain event or state of affairs is fortunate or unfortunate or even terrible. It is not an evaluation of a state of the world, or of an individual as part of the world. We are not thinking just that it would be better if he were different, or did not exist, or had not done some of the things he has done. We are judging him, rather than his existence or characteristics. The effect of concentrating on the influence of what is not under his control is to make this responsible self seem to disappear, swallowed up by the order of mere events.141

The Stoics are perfectly consistent with their emphasis on the moral agent when they deny the moral relevance of circumstances beyond our control. The Peripatetic view, and all views which admit things which are out of our control as natural objects of moral assessment, must either choose to be consistent with itself, in which case it destroys moral agency, or must admit the importance of moral agency, in which case it becomes inconsistent. The Stoic position is internally consistent; but is it justified in denying the existence of moral luck? A careful examination of the examples Nagel cites to illustrate the phenomenon suggests that the Stoics may be justified in their

being in good spirits, walking prudently, and everything which is done in accordance with right reason” (trans. Inwood and Gerson 1997, 221). 138 Earlier we saw that Aristotle’s position on virtue is founded on the distinction between ποιεῖν and πασχεῖν. Barlaam continues to maintain that virtue is a matter of doing, even here, for he says that to undertake suffering is a virtuous action. 139 Nagel 1990, 27. 140 Epictetus, Ench. 1.1. 141 Nagel 1990, 36.

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view. Consider the case of a truck driver who accidentally runs over a child. If the driver is without fault, then although he feels badly about his role in the matter he will not reproach himself. But if, for example, he forgot to have his brakes checked, and that negligence contributes to the child’s death, then he will blame himself. Nagel claims that this is an example of moral luck because, although the negligence is the same whether a child happens to be in the path of the truck or not, he will blame himself far more if he hits the child than if he does not. Yet the child’s presence or absence is not under his control. The Stoics could respond that the driver’s negligence is the only morally relevant matter at issue in the case, because it is the only factor that was under his control. The driver who hits the child is more legally blameworthy than the one who does not, but morally both situations are identical. In both cases, the drivers’ neglect for their responsibility towards other moral agents demonstrated a lack of virtue on their part. Indeed, most of Nagel’s cases seem to confuse legal with moral responsibility. Since legal responsibility is connected with our life in a political community, it must emphasize external effects and judge motive as a mitigating factor. But moral responsibility is connected with our life in the community of rational agents; hence, it focuses on motive and views external effects as morally irrelevant. Nagel cites the fact that the penalty for attempted murder is lighter than the penalty for successful murder. While there is a legal difference between the two, it is not clear that there is any moral difference between them. Nagel also refers to cases of uncertainty – Neville Chamberlain’s signing of the Munich agreement, for example. If Hitler had died of a heart attack after occupying the Sudetenland, “Chamberlain’s action at Munich would still have utterly betrayed the Czechs, but it would not be the great moral disaster that has made his name a household word”.142 Chamberlain could not know the implications of his action at the time he signed the accord, and our judgement about the goodness or badness of the act depends on things over which he had no control. Once again it seems that the Stoics have a legitimate criticism of this position. In betraying the Czechs, Chamberlain was committing a great moral disaster. By compromising his commitment to the Czechs under pressure from Hitler, Chamberlain affirmed the notion that external force is a legitimate reason to compromise one’s moral purpose. That affirmation, in part, made all that followed inevitable. To hold, with the Stoics, that morality is concerned solely with things under my control yields paradoxes: the driver who did not hit a child is just as morally responsible as the one who did; Chamberlain’s breaking faith with the Czechs is just as wrong regardless of what might have subsequently happened. If, however, we admit the moral relevance of things beyond our control, we completely undermine and destroy moral agency

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Nagel 1990, 30.

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altogether. Morality is concerned solely with things under our control, and hence focuses on virtue and the agent’s activities it produces. Virtue is not only the mainspring of virtuous actions; it also makes a human being good and praised, and is the basis for one’s being called good and praised. The goodness and praise that Barlaam has in mind here is not piecemeal or accidental, but touches all of human life and touches it precisely as human. For Aristotle, the standard by which praiseworthiness is judged is the man of practical wisdom in the community. Barlaam and the Stoics, however, viewed reason as the standard. The praise of the community (considered within the ‘circle of appearances’) could be given wrongly or rightly. What mattered most was that praise be given rightly, in accordance with the excellences which are distinctive to human beings – i.e. the virtues. For this reason, the sort of excellence which leads artists and scientists to be labelled good and praised in their respective disciplines is excluded (ESS 1.8–9). It is worth considering why Barlaam rejects the good of science as being distinctively human, since the Peripatetics sometimes claimed that the Stoic view of happiness seemed to be the sort of happiness suitable for a disembodied soul.143 Cicero echoes this claim when he says, the only case in which it would be correct to place the Chief Good in virtue alone is if there existed a creature consisting solely of pure intellect, with the further proviso that this intellect possessed nothing of its own that was in accordance with nature, as bodily health is. But it is impossible even to imagine a self-consistent picture of what such a creature would be like.144

Like the Peripatetics, Cicero was prepared to grant that the summum bonum was especially to be found in virtue. Immediately after the words cited above, he adds that although bodily goods are so great that they are not eclipsed by virtue, nevertheless “any difference they do make is not very great”.145 He would not, however, be willing to grant that the summum bonum was to be found in virtue alone. Bodily and external goods had to be parts of happiness as well as virtue, and that for two reasons. In the first place (as we have seen), nature itself seems to dictate their role in human happiness, because humans are made up of body and soul, and are social creatures. In the second place,

Compare Alexander of Aphrodisias, Mantissa 20.14 (trans. Sharples 2004, 182): “Moreover, if it is not the happiness of a soul that is being sought, but that of a human being, and it is agreed that a human being is composed of soul and body, each of which have [their] own proper goods and evils which are different from one another, how does it not follow that the end and good of that which is composed of both needs the good of both of these things of which it is composed?” 144 Cicero, Fin. 4.28. In Book 4, Cicero is setting forth the position of his teacher Antiochus of Ascalon, who held that Plato and Aristotle taught essentially the same ethical doctrine. 145 Cicero, Fin. 4.30. 143

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bodily and external goods are the materials which are formed by the virtues to produce happiness. Without a measure of wealth, for example, it is impossible to develop the virtue of generosity.146 Barlaam rejects the end of the sciences, the ‘internal vision of truth’, as a candidate for human happiness, and in so doing he refutes the Peripatetic claim about the Stoics’ end as suitable for a disembodied mind. The creature whose happiness we seek is, at present, made up of body and soul, and that condition of human existence does play a role in deciding what constitutes happiness – though it is not the role the Peripatetics think. They derive the human good from an analysis of the parts which make up a human being considered as a concrete whole – i.e. body and soul, and they criticize the Stoics for omitting part of human nature’s goods in their definition of human happiness. The Stoic concern, however, is not that the goods of one part of human nature (the soul) should triumph at the expense of those of the other part (the body). If that were their concern, then, as Barlaam implies here, the good of the soul would be seen in terms of scientific knowledge.147 The Stoic concern is that the goods of the human person, or moral agent, should stand alone as elements of human happiness – and those goods are the virtues. Though Barlaam is prepared to allow a different sort of happiness for disembodied souls, in our present condition we have both body and soul. The distinctive human good is not made up of the goods of the matter (body) and form (soul) which concretely comprise the human being, taken either together or separately. Rather, the distinctive human good is the good of those who are made up of soul and body, considered formally, i.e. according to the definition of the human being as a ‘rational animal’. That is why the distinctive human good is virtue, and not knowledge. To speak of the ethical subject as an animal partaking of reason and mind raises the question of those things which are common to human beings and to other animals. The term for virtue, ἀρετή, had also been used in connection

Compare Alexander of Aphrodisias, Mantissa 20.10 (trans. Sharples 2004, 178): “Moreoever, if no craft is self-sufficient for its own proper activity because it needs things through which and on which to be active, and virtue too is a craft, nor will [virtue] itself be self-sufficient for activity in accordance with it[self].” 147 In EN 10.7, Aristotle discusses happiness in terms of contemplation (θεωρία), the activity of “the best part of us”, and then claims that the life of moral virtue is only happiness in a secondary way. Even contemplation requires external goods (1179a33–34), however, since we still need bodily health and a supply of food. Note that even here Aristotle thinks in terms of the parts of a human being (body and soul), and not the definition of a human being (rational animal), when discussing human happiness. Peripatetic ethics are an ethics of human nature, and so must include each element of human nature in discussing human happiness. Stoic ethics are an ethics of personal agency, and so focus only on the human person as moral agent in discussing human happiness. Of course, the fully developed notion of the person postdates both Aristotle and the classic Stoics, appearing fully developed only in the Cappadocian fathers; still, it seems to encapsulate the difference between the Stoic and Peripatetic schools nicely. 146

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with animals.148 Since, however, this use of the term did not describe features unique to human beings, none of the things designated by it could be a part of human happiness. On this point the Peripatetics agreed; even Aristotle rejects elements common to humans and horses in his search for human happiness as he develops his argument connecting human happiness to the distinctively human function or ἔργον. One last kind of item needed to be eliminated in the search for the distinctively human good. Barlaam notes that some features of existence are shared by happy and miserable people. He offers no list of those features, but his subsequent discussion suggests that any of the bodily and external goods could be held in common by happy and miserable people. Since it is possible to possess one or more of this kind of feature and still be miserable, and since happiness and misery are contraries, plainly none of them can play a part in human happiness. We have already claimed that the heart of Stoic ethics is its focus on the human being as agent. Unlike Peripatetic ethics, which bases its notion of the human end on a consideration of human nature, and therefore makes room for the human being as recipient of action, Stoic ethics focuses on the human person as moral agent. This, in turn, suggests that the root notion of Stoic ethics is moral freedom. If something is an element of happiness, it must be under our control; if something is not under our control, it has nothing to do with happiness. It is no wonder that Epictetus’ Discourses begins with just this distinction. Barlaam sums up his review of candidates for elements of human happiness by affirming that all the goods involved in human happiness are “voluntary, and lie within human power, and cannot be lost against our will” (ESS 1.12). All that remains in the demonstration of the Stoic view of happiness is to state definitively the rejection of bodily and external goods as components of human happiness. The preceding discussion has shown that no bodily and external goods are unique to happy human beings. Furthermore, the Peripatetics also grant that these goods are subject to the whims of chance, and are therefore not entirely under our control. Finally, they neither make us morally good nor serve as the basis of our being called good. So Barlaam concludes that happiness consists in virtue and its actions alone, apart from all bodily and external goods. Barlaam’s presentation thus far has begun to address many of the issues raised by the Peripatetics against the Stoic view. By broadening the scope of what constitutes action, Barlaam can argue that the sort of virtue he is discussing never ceases to be displayed in action; even suffering, willingly undertaken,

This should not be a surprise, since the term ἀρετή means ‘excellence,’ and there may be features of any given object which make it an excellent token of its type. Plato, Rep. 335b speaks of the virtue of dogs and horses. 148

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constitutes morally significant action. The Peripatetics had claimed that the Stoics ignored our nature as soul and body in limiting happiness to the goods of the soul; in response, Barlaam shows that the Stoic view does not ignore our twofold nature but focuses on the human person as moral agent. He still needs to develop how the Stoic view sees the interrelationship between the two kinds of value, and to answer the Peripatetic claim that without external goods, the virtues have nothing to form. But first he shows, by means of cases and division, that the Peripatetic definition of happiness is inadequate.

7. The Peripatetic Definition is Refuted (ESS 1.15–25) Although the Peripatetics never quite put their definition of happiness in the terms which Barlaam uses, he does simply and accurately capture the difference between the Stoics and Peripatetics in the way he expresses the Peripatetic view. Like the Stoics, the Peripatetics agreed that actively exercised virtue is the distinctively human good. Unlike the Stoics, they claimed that bodily and external goods are also necessary for happiness or, to put it in Barlaam’s terms, they removed the requirement that the goods which make up happiness must be distinctively human. Barlaam expresses the Peripatetic definition in inclusivist terms: happiness is a complete collection of all human goods, i.e. bodily and external goods as well as the goods of the soul. Each kind of good, then, stands in a part-whole relation to happiness. This should not surprise us, since (as we have noted) Stoic criticisms of the Peripatetic view typically assume an inclusivist opponent. Yet although Barlaam’s formulation of the Peripatetic position does not explicitly address the dominant view, we have already noted that the method he follows, the method of definition, is powerful enough to address both inclusivist and dominant views.149 Underlying the Peripatetic addition of bodily and external goods, as we have seen, was their concern that happiness should be complete. Not only did a life of virtue without external goods seem to be truncated; it could not even get started without a certain measure of external goods. In order to refute the Peripatetic view, Barlaam must show that when these goods are included in the definition of happiness, they not only do not increase happiness; they also destroy both happiness and virtue. The main way in which he refutes the Peripatetic view of happiness is by using cases, individual and concrete examples which highlight the distinctive features of both views. The use of cases in philosophical argument is a hallmark of the Hellenistic period in the history of philosophy; and of all the Hellenistic schools, none

For the rest of this essay, I shall assume an inclusivist opponent to Barlaam’s position, noting concerns which also touch the dominant view when appropriate. 149

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used them more often or with greater insight than did the Stoics.150 Furthermore, in discussing how to examine definitions, Aristotle makes the helpful suggestion that the consideration of individual cases can be very useful (Top. 154a18). Barlaam makes use of two sorts of cases. First, he compares the Stoic sage to the Peripatetic sage. But since few, if any, people are viewed as sages, especially by the Stoics, he also compares the case of two people who are striving towards virtue: one who holds the Peripatetic view, and the other who holds the Stoic view. The first case which Barlaam draws, the case of the two sages, highlights the contrast between Stoic and Peripatetic views of happiness and external goods with reference to the issue of security. Both views maintained the importance of happiness being secure. Aristotle, too, rejects any thought that true happiness should depend on fortune’s favours, lest the happy man be made a chameleon, or house built on the sand.151 Before considering the issue of security, however, it is worth our while to compare the persons of the Stoic and Peripatetic sages. The Stoic sage is completely convinced that happiness consists of the virtues alone. Barlaam characterizes this as a “living and efficacious” view which has “penetrated”152 every part of the sage’s soul, with his appetites agreeing. The anthropology implicit in this text is made explicit in Book 2, Chapters 1–10. There we learn that the soul has two powers, the mind and the appetite. The appetite is the power by which the soul is attracted or repelled by the things it judges as goods or ills respectively; the mind is the power by which the soul understands and seeks truth (ESS 2.1). The mind has three sorts of features, each of which can have a good or a bad condition. Barlaam never names the features explicitly, nor does he tell their ontological status; he simply gives names to the good and bad conditions of each. The good condition of the first is ‘mental evenness’, its bad condition is called ‘mental darkness’. Mental darkness is the generic feature shared by all disturbances (perturbationes). Barlaam compares it to the clouding which can sometimes afflict our sense of sight, and ‘mental evenness’ to the way the sense of sight works when all is in order. The good condition of the second is ‘true judgement’, and its bad state is called ‘false opinion’. The good condition of the third is called ‘favourable will’ and the bad condition is called ‘harmful will’.153 The sage is characterized as one who has ‘constancy’, which combines

See Nussbaum 1994, 339–341. 151 Aristotle, EN 1100b7–8. 152 As noted in the translation, 69 above, this is the only apparent allusion in the entire text of the ESS to the Bible. 153 Barlaam’s anthropology raises several issues, but a detailed examination of it is beyond the scope of this essay. It is unclear, for example, how he views the relationship between the appetitive power of the soul, on the one hand, and the will (one aspect of the mind) on the other hand. In ESS 2.2 he speaks of a harmful will as an appetite, but in ESS 1.5, he 150

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all three good conditions with the appetite agreeing. Using the good and bad conditions of the three features, Barlaam discusses various degrees of disturbances, and distinguishes disturbances from insanity, malice, and simplicity (ESS 2.8–9). Barlaam’s anthropology is thus thoroughly Stoic, in the mainstream of that tradition – at least in the following matters: he does not hold, with Panaetius and as Galen claims that Posidonius does, that the soul has an irrational component, and he analyses disturbance in terms of the mind alone (ESS 2.5–7). Although he grants that progress can be made towards virtue, he holds that the final step towards virtue is instantaneous (ESS 2.13). Furthermore, he agrees that advantages can aid in the development of virtue (ESS 1.28–29). The challenge for any Stoic anthropology is to explain the communitarian aspects of human nature, and their ethical implications. The Stoics address this concern by means of οἰκείωσις, or familiarization.154 All animals are born with an instinct to preserve themselves according to their constitution. In Seneca’s Ep. 121 he points out that from birth each animal can handle its body with alacrity and skill – both in pursuing what is helpful for its own preservation, and in fleeing things that might be harmful. For the Stoics, this presupposes that all animals are born with a consciousness of their own constitution – not, of course, a theoretical understanding of what their constitution is, but a practical awareness of their unique embodied state. Seneca cites numerous examples from animals – bees, hens, spiders, and turtles, to name a few. The spider spins a web in pursuit of prey; the chick flees even the shadow of a hawk. In some cases this instinctual behaviour is social in nature; elsewhere Epictetus refers to the bull and the queen bee showing the tokens of their leadership (τὰ σύμβολα τῆς ἡγεμονίας),155 their own “special endowment” (τῆς ἰδίας παρασκευῆς).156 Even in the case of non-human animals οἰκείωσις has both personal and social elements; hence, as Klein notes, the assumption “that according to Stoic theory self-perception and primary impulse ground narrowly self-preserving or self-directed behaviours – should be given up”.157 In the case of man, our natural constitution involves not only instinct, but also reasoning. “Man is dear to himself in respect of that wherein he is a

seems to distinguish between the will and the appetite. The task of understanding his anthropology, and the use he makes of it to set up a scale of degrees of disturbance (ESS 2.9) is made more difficult because his sources for this teaching are unknown. 154 Among the vast literature on this topic, note Brink 1956, Pembroke 1971, Inwood 1984, Long 1996, Klein 2016, and Magrin 2018. Klein’s article in particular was helpful for the discussion here. 155 Epictetus, Diss. 3.22.99. 156 Diss. 3.22.109. 157 Klein 2016, 165.

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man.”158 But our special endowment, our ruling power, is our reasoning. And so our instinct for preserving our constitution directs us to care not merely for our own physical survival, but for the survival and flourishing of all others who, like us, have that same rational faculty. Having an instinct for other-care, and having the gift of reasoning, is not the same as exercising them. They are necessary, but not sufficient, for a fully developed ethical life. As we grow in virtue, our target for caring grows ever wider until it encompasses all of humanity. Instinct and reasoning must be joined with our effort, our free choice, in order to bring them to their fullest state of development. Hierocles famously draws the image of a number of circles surrounding the moral agent. The smallest circle is made up of the agent himself. It is contained in a circle consisting of near family members: parents, siblings, wife, and children. That circle is, in turn, contained within a broader circle consisting of more distant family members; and so on, until the whole human family is contained. Consider the agent’s relationship with parents and siblings. Does he not learn his earliest moral lessons in the give-and-take of family life? When, much later, he includes wife and then children in that circle, he does so on the basis of those earlier relationships with parents and siblings. The wife comes in as a complete outsider; by a self-conscious choice, she becomes a member of that second circle, as close to a part of the agent as can be imagined. When children are born, they are loved as parts of a self which already includes a former stranger. There is no such thing as a self-made agent; we are, all of us, products of the love of others, and our self-conscious awareness of that fact, combined with our desire to preserve our ruling principle, as it is found not only in ourselves but also in others, provides a reasonable basis for caring for others. John Donne’s “No Man is an Island” expresses a perfectly Stoic view when he notes the interconnected nature of the human race; compare these words from Epictetus’ Dissertationes 2.5: What are you? A man. If you consider yourself as detached from other men, it is according to nature to live to old age, to be rich, to be healthy. But if you consider yourself as a man and a part of a certain whole, it is for the sake of that whole that at one time you should be sick, at another time take a voyage and run into danger, and at another time be in want, and, in some cases, die prematurely. Why then are you troubled? Do you not know, that as a foot is no longer a foot if it is detached from the body, so you are no longer a man if you are separated from other men. For what is a man? A part of a state, of that first which consists of gods and of men; then of that which is called next to it, which is a small image of the universal state.

Strangely, the social side of human nature is never discussed in the ESS. Barlaam’s ethical agent clearly lives within a human community; but that fact

Seneca, Ep. 121.14. Seneca’s homo qua homo est finds an echo in Barlaam’s hominis ut homo est (ESS 1.2). 158

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seems to play no role in the agent’s self-understanding. The ESS completely lacks any discussion of friendship, and Barlaam never addresses Aristotle’s assertion that human beings are social creatures. Even the attempt to ground other-concern in an instinct to care for children is missing. If the danger of incorporating bodily and external goods into happiness is the disappearance of the moral agent, the danger of emphasizing moral agency is that the natural shape of human life is distorted in fundamental ways. People exist as members of particular families, living under a specific flag, with a set nexus of relationships. Barlaam’s view of Stoicism offers guidance for acting in such situations, but he gives no natural foundation for our personal responsibility.159 In contrast to the Stoic sage, the Peripatetic sage holds that all three kinds of goods play a role in human happiness. Just as the soul is a composite of rational and irrational forces (EN 1102a26–33), so human happiness is a composite of the three kinds of goods.160 Barlaam demonstrates that this view is not simply difficult to hold, it is impossible, and he shows this by focusing on the issue of security. This feature of security is a natural implication of nearly all ancient ethical systems, that happiness is agent-centred. I seek to make sense of my life as a whole, and to develop a plan which I seek to carry out in all the relationships and situations in which I find myself. To the degree that my plan is subject to forces beyond my control, I cease functioning as an agent; when happiness is a gift of fortune, the rational basis of ethics is undercut. Because Aristotle sought to balance the view of the many (summed up in Solon’s dictum to Croesus “look to the end”) with the view of the wise, he came to hold that only a practical security is possible in the happy life. Happiness is hard, not impossible, to lose; many and great reverses would lead any happy man to cease being happy. Aristotle mentions the case of Priam twice in the context of his discussion of happiness’ stability; here, too, we see the

One should beware of letting biography shape analysis of philosophical writings, but it appears from what we know of Barlaam that he was characterized in his personal relationships by sarcasm, inflexibility, and pride – none of which are conducive to discovering the benefits of friendship. Gregory Akindynos, who was sympathetic to Barlaam against Gregory Palamas, wrote to Barlaam, “when the Cypriote Lapithes, a man well versed in philosophy, even as you have attested many times, respectfully put forward in his letters some questions about Aristotelian philosophy and asked for their solution as if from a teacher, instead of answering him with consideration and kindness, you filled your letters to him with sneering and you openly called him quite foolish”. Again, Akindynos says to Barlaam, “you scorn everybody because of Plato and men like Plato”. See Hero 1983, 39 and 51. 160 The Peripatetic view implies that the sage must not merely claim that bodily and external goods are necessary to complete happiness; he must also possess them, for if he lacks an element of happiness, he is not a sage. This seems to undercut the desire expressed by Aristotle (EN 1099b18–20) that happiness be accessible to most people, since most people seem to lack elements of at least one of the three kinds of goods. 159

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ambiguity which results from his attempt to balance the two sources of ethical discourse against each other. On the one hand, he claims that no one would call anyone like Priam happy, because of the misfortunes he encountered (EN 1100a8–9). On the other hand, he claims that the happy man can never become miserable, though he will not be ‘blessed’ (μακάριος) if he encounters Priamic misfortunes (EN 1101a5–6). If we suppose that Aristotle understood Priam as one to whom the word ‘happy’ could justly be applied for a significant portion of his life, we see the problem. Did Priam lose happiness? Then it would seem that the happy man can become miserable. Did Priam retain happiness? Then it would seem that he could be called happy, even in spite of his misfortunes. Unfortunately, Aristotle’s use of the ambiguous word ‘blessed’ makes it impossible for us to answer the question. Barlaam’s first case suggests that Aristotle’s practical security is no real security at all. How can anyone be secure in happiness when he believes that he can lose key elements of happiness against his will? Aristotle’s sage holds two theses which are mutually incompatible: first, he holds that bodily and external goods are necessary to be happy; and second, he holds that he is capable of losing these goods against his will. Thus he lacks the security which we associate with the happy man. But there is an even deeper-level problem with the Peripatetic view of happiness in relation to security. Both Peripatetics and Stoics agree that virtue is necessary for happiness. Now some virtues, such as courage and magnanimity, require that we despise ‘human affairs’ (here used as a synonym for bodily and external goods). But on the Peripatetic view, we must allow that human affairs play a necessary role in happiness; hence, the sage will not despise them but seek to acquire and maintain them in order to attain or keep the end of happiness. This radically undercuts his ability to acquire and maintain the virtues of courage and magnanimity and hence (since all grant that virtue is necessary for happiness) his ability to be happy. This problem with the Peripatetic view is ontological, focusing on a feature of bodily and external goods in themselves. There is, however, another problem with the Peripatetic view, which is epistemological. It is possible that someone who holds that view could continue to possess all the goods he considers necessary for happiness, but be uncertain as to whether he possesses them. Suppose, for example, a sage’s family is lost in a terrible storm or taken captive by terrorists. Even if they are alive and well, as long as he does not know that they are safe he must worry and doubt. But doubt is incompatible with the security of happiness. Barlaam began by assuming that a person who satisfied the Peripatetic definition of happiness was happy. By focusing on the issue of security, he ended by showing that such a person would not be happy. In the Topics, Aristotle had suggested that one way of testing a definition was to test its consequences:

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he who has said that ‘x is a man’, has also said that x is an animal and a biped and is animate and is receptive of reason and knowledge; so that, if any single one of these consequences is demolished, the original assertion is also demolished. (112a16–17)

Barlaam thus sees his argument as a reductio of the Peripatetic definition of happiness, along lines laid down for testing definitions by Aristotle himself, and by using a feature of happiness which both Stoics and Peripatetics agreed on. Since it is clear that bodily and external goods can be lost against our will, if happiness is to be more than a word we must conclude that those goods cannot be a constituent part of happiness. In essence, Barlaam has shown that the phrase ‘Peripatetic sage’ is a contradiction in terms. Stoics and Peripatetics agreed that although happiness is accessible to most people, the true sage is rare. Most people struggle more or less successfully along the path to happiness. For an ethical theory to be truly helpful, it must address the situation of these people who are, strictly speaking, unhappy. So Barlaam’s argument against the Peripatetic view turns from the sage to the one making progress from misery to happiness.161 In what follows I will call such people viatores, from the Latin word for ‘traveller’. Barlaam invites us to consider two viatores, one holding the Peripatetic view of happiness, and the other holding the Stoic view. Both of them are equally deficient in the three kinds of goods, especially bodily and external goods. Both of them want to be happy. Neither of them has any hope of gaining the things he lacks. In every respect they are identical, except in their view of happiness. Barlaam compares the two viatores, first with respect to how they cope with the lack of bodily and external goods, then with respect to a lack in the goods of the soul. We are not surprised to learn that the Stoic viator does better than the Peripatetic with reference to the former, since the Peripatetic view holds that such goods play a part in happiness. Consider a Peripatetic viator who has the external good of wealth but lacks the bodily good of health. Not only must he despair of gaining the health he lacks; he must also despair over the recognition that the wealth he has can quickly be lost. A Stoic viator under the same circumstances would be free of anxiety because he is persuaded that neither health nor wealth is an essential component of happiness. When we turn to consider the goods of the soul, however, Barlaam’s case seems less clear at first glance. It is relatively easy to understand what would constitute a lack of bodily and external goods, but what would constitute a lack of the goods of the soul from a Stoic perspective? For the Stoics, the goods of the soul are the virtues, and one of the paradoxes which were the hallmark of the Stoic position is that one either has all the virtues or he has none. In other words, how can there be a Stoic viator? This was a great problem for the older Stoic view, which held that virtue (and hence happiness) comes all at once, in a kind of conversion experience.

161

Epictetus discusses this category of person often; compare Ench. 12, 13, 48.

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This view, which seemed to deny any possibility of progress towards happiness, was so difficult for the Stoics to defend that, under the influence of Peripatetic attacks, the middle Stoics altered Stoic anthropology. Panaetius and Posidonius acquiesced to the Platonic/Peripatetic view that the soul had an irrational as well as a rational component.162 Moral progress became a possibility, but the way was thrown open to the claim that bodily and external goods were a factor in happiness.163 Once that claim is allowed, the heart of the Stoic position collapses. It might at first appear that Barlaam holds to a Middle Stoic164 anthropology. Support for this solution is found in Barlaam’s saying that the things the Stoic viator lack “mean little” for full happiness (ESS 1.19) when we would expect him to say “mean nothing” for full happiness. But this solution seems inconsistent with the rest of his presentation, which seems to be more mainstream Stoic. It seems more likely that, in describing a Stoic viator, Barlaam is anticipating a view he sets forth in more detail in ESS 2.13. There he writes, If, however, it is necessary to rise gradually, little by little, from the worst degree of disturbance set forth to constancy, [then] first the harmful will or even the false opinion must be removed. And when these have been excised, then mental darkness can be removed; and immediately, when [mental darkness] is gone, constancy shines forth in the soul.

As we noted above, Barlaam distinguishes the good and bad conditions of three features of the mind. Since all three of these features belong to the mind, we avoid the Posidonian irrational component of the soul. The three features are ordered, with mental darkness being the least ill, false opinion being a greater ill, and harmful will being the greatest ill (ESS 2.2). Disturbances occur in four grades (ESS 2.4), ranging from the one in which mental darkness is combined with a true opinion and a favourable will (the least disturbance) to the one in which mental darkness is combined with a false opinion and a harmful will (the

Sedley 2003, 21, notes that both Panaetius and Posidonius modified Stoic psychology. Panaetius divided the soul into rational and desiderative components, and Posidonius “adopted a version of the tripartite psychology that Plato had developed”. See esp. Posidonius fr. 152 (from Galen, PHP 5.1): “Well, Chrysippus, in On Emotions, Bk 1 [SVF, III.461], tries to prove that emotions are judgements of a kind of the rational, while Zeno thought that the emotions are not the actual judgements, but the contractions and expansions, risings and fallings of the spirit that supervene on judgements. Posidonius differed from both, and both praised and approved of Plato’s doctrine; he opposed the Chrysippean school of thought by pointing out that the emotions were neither judgements nor what supervenes on judgements, but certain motions of distinct irrational powers, given the name by Plato of desiderative and spirited” (trans. Kidd 1999, 205–206). 163 See Colish 1990, i, 45–46. 164 Sedley calls into question whether Panaetius and Posidonius mark a “clean break from the preceding Stoic tradition” (2003, 23). The term ‘Middle Stoic’ seems to be descriptively accurate; both thinkers saw themselves as Stoic and were Stoic, but both incorporated significant modifications to the school’s thought. 162

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worst disturbance). The viator is one who, beginning with the most serious deficiency in his mental condition, works to eliminate them all. Once the final deficiency, mental darkness, has been removed, the viator has become a sage. The viator who holds the Stoic view of happiness finds it easier to acquire that virtue which both sides agree is a component of happiness. Since he holds that virtue is the only good, in which happiness consists, he can devote his entire appetite towards the acquisition of virtue. Barlaam’s analysis of the relationship of these three features appears to be unique; a careful search of sources, both Stoic and Peripatetic, revealed no parallel. Since, however, he claims that his work is drawn from many Stoics, it may reflect an otherwise unknown analysis of the disturbances. It does illustrate in what sense the Stoics allow for emotions: any phenomenon which combines mental evenness, true judgement, and a favourable will is acceptable in the life of the sage. This analysis also serves to show how both moral progress and immediate attainment of sagehood are possible. The Peripatetic viator, however, has a problem with both the mental and appetitive powers of the soul. Barlaam isolates the most serious problem with the inclusivist version of the Peripatetic view,165 a problem which has also been noted by contemporary proponents of that view.166 In its mental aspect, the problem is how the Peripatetic viator can know how much weight to give each of the three elements in his definition of good. Since the inclusivist version of the Peripatetic view does not specify any internal relation among mental, bodily, and external goods, but only their external relation as parts of the whole which is happiness, it offers no rational basis for the practical decisions the viator must face. This in turn leads to the appetitive aspect of the problem. The Peripatetic viator’s appetite is divided among three sorts of things which he considers good. Even if he had a basis for deciding how much of each to pursue, it would still be harder to attain all the objects of his appetite. The more he sought bodily and external goods, the less appetite he could devote to achieving virtue. His appetite would be unstable, shifting among the three kinds of good he seeks as parts of happiness. In the first case he considered, Barlaam demonstrated that one who holds the Peripatetic view of happiness as a compound of mental, bodily, and external goods could not ever truly be happy. In the second case he considered, Barlaam demonstrated that because he had no rational way of determining the relative weight of each kind of good, the Peripatetic viator had no way of getting from misery to happiness. The compound view of happiness held by the Peripatetics is inherently unstable. The Stoic view, on the other hand, offers a

The dominant version of the Peripatetic view does not have this problem, and Barlaam’s critique of it is implicit: that the dominant view includes the material of happiness in its definition. 166 Compare Ackrill 1980, 31. 165

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reasonable prospect of success for the viator holding it, and security for the sage who has attained happiness by means of it. Barlaam’s presentation of the Stoic view offers a way out of one of Stoicism’s chief difficulties: showing how, from a Stoic point of view, one could truly be a viator and at the same time allow that the attainment of sagehood is instantaneous. But if his critique of the Peripatetic view is based on showing potential conflict among the elements which make up happiness, and if on the Stoic view the virtues are parts which make up happiness, could Barlaam’s view be criticized by cases showing a conflict among the virtues? Relativist theories may try to set forth cases in which prudence conflicts with courage, for example. The Stoics would argue that such conflicts are only apparent, and are founded on definitions of the virtues which assume that bodily and external goods are truly good. Barlaam provided an ontological basis for the Stoic critique when he argued that the goods of the soul are all of one kind, in contrast to the goods of the body and external goods. Other modern critics, such as Bernard Williams, might argue in a more radical way that virtue should not exercise hegemony in the search for the happy life. In his so-called ‘Gauguin problem’, Williams cites the case of the French painter who left his obligations behind in France and spent the rest of his life painting in Tahiti.167 Doesn’t the outcome of his life and career demonstrate that sometimes concerns other than moral must have a higher place in the search for happiness? The Stoics could respond to such a view in several ways. First, it seems somewhat strange, not to say inconsistent, to use reason to argue against the hegemony of rational excellence in the happy life. Second, if one defines life in terms of an artistic talent or even scientific field, even if that person attains excellence in the chosen area, he or she has not necessarily been successful as a human being. For the Stoics, virtue reigns precisely because it is rational – in harmony with the highest human faculty and ultimately in harmony with the universe. We have already noted that, for the Stoics, virtue is a disposition for action – whether that action is limited by being restricted to motive, as in the standard presentation, or broadened by allowing simple bodily movements to count as virtuous actions, as in Barlaam’s presentation. This view of virtue, combined with an anthropology which denies the existence of an irrational component in the soul, leads them to differ from the Peripatetic’s counsel on how to deal with the passions.168 For the Stoics, virtue’s task was not to moderate the passions

Williams 1981, 22–23. 168 How to refer to the affective element of our experience (in Greek, πάθος) presents a thorny problem. In this essay I use the terms ‘emotion’, ‘disturbance’, and ‘passion’ to refer to this element. ‘Emotion’ does not necessarily have a negative connotation for the Stoics, since there are εὐπάθειαι, as I discuss here. But the normal Stoic usage sees the πάθη as 167

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but to completely uproot them. The very word used to translate the Greek πάθος into Latin was perturbatio, a word which suggests distress and disturbance. For the Stoics, passion is an excited motion of the mind because of a false opinion.169 No false opinion, regardless of its size, should be tolerated; no excited movement of the mind is a good thing. Now, in the Peripatetic view, the passions performed two useful functions in connection with virtue. The passions were both powerful motivations to action as well as being signs of the state of virtue which had been attained. The Stoics reject both of these functions of the passions. We do not need to have the frenzy of passion to motivate us to act: careful rational consideration of the situation offers us sufficient guidance and makes successful action more likely. Nor do passions serve to show the state of virtue someone has attained – unless it is by their absence. If the Stoic goal is to eliminate and uproot the passions, does this leave them subject to Plutarch’s challenge that the moral agent becomes callous and indifferent without the passions? To answer this question, the Stoics develop the notion of the εὐπάθειαι or ‘good passions’. The soul has a τόνος, or tension, as does all of Nature. When the tension of our soul is ‘in tune’ with Nature, we have the εὐπάθειαι. When it is not, we have the passions. Barlaam’s presentation in Book 2 allows us to see how the good passions are passions, yet at the same time are good.170 As we have seen, the best state of the soul, called ‘constancy’, combines mental evenness, a proper judgement, and a favourable will. The worst state is comprised of mental darkness, false opinion, and a harmful will. Between these two, Barlaam sets up a scale of disturbances. In that constancy is found on the same scale as the passions, it can be called a ‘passion’. In that constancy is the formal structure of all the virtues, and virtue is opposed to passion, it cannot be called a passion. Barlaam is also willing to admit that passion may play a role in the life of the viator – although it is not a sign of true virtue, but only of its appearance. Barlaam concludes his critique of the Peripatetic view with an argument by division, to show that bodily and external goods (which the Stoics call ‘preferred indifferents’ or ‘advantages’) are not good in the sense relevant to happiness. Bodily and external goods fulfil two kinds of function. Some relate to our existence – e.g. food and health. Others make life less troublesome and more pleasant – e.g. air conditioning. The same good may fulfil both functions. Food may be seen as a good which relates to our existence, but it can also be

disorders of the soul, and hence as inherently bad. When I speak of the πάθη in this sense, I use the words ‘disturbance’ and ‘passion’. 169 Chrysippus went further than his Stoic predecessors, in that he identified passions with false opinions; see Nussbaum 1994, 371 ff. 170 What follows is a summary of Barlaam’s position, since his anthropology is beyond the scope of this essay.

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viewed as a good which makes life more pleasant. A cracker given to a starving person fulfils the first function more than the second, whereas a banquet fulfils the second more than the first. Of the two functions, the first is the hardest for Stoics to explain. The Peripatetic position seems reasonable enough: that in order to demonstrate certain virtues, I need material on which to work. Generosity, for example, requires that I have the material wealth with which to be generous; if a person is seriously deformed he lacks the context in which the virtue of self-control is exercised. Indeed, in order to exercise any virtue at all I must be alive, and to be alive I must have a supply of goods such as food. Barlaam explains that such ‘goods’ are not part of happiness, but are the subject for the form of the happy life. Unless there were some such goods in a person’s life, there would be no subject whose happiness or wretchedness we could discuss. The Stoics take a fundamentally different view towards the relation of such goods to happiness than do the Peripatetics. Stoics assume that if there is a life whose happiness we are examining, there must also be enough goods essential to life to make our discussion worthwhile. These goods contribute to life; but since both happy and miserable people have life in common, they cannot be parts of happiness: none of those things which are or may be common to the happy man and the most miserable one, and which are required for the sake [of both] of them [alike], are the distinctively human good. So the things which are captured by the definition of happiness must not be regarded as among things of this sort. (ESS 1.12)

Peripatetics, on the other hand, feel the need to argue for a measure of such goods before happiness can be discussed. The Stoic view also highlights the radical accessibility of happiness to all sorts of people. It is not necessary to happiness that I have all the goods to exercise all the virtues. If I am alive, then virtue and happiness are open to me without any need of further bodily goods to bring them about. A poorer man may not exercise the virtue of magnificence, as that virtue is outlined by Aristotle (EN 4.2); but by the same token, a wealthier man cannot exercise the virtue of patience under great loss. What of the goods that make life more pleasant? Barlaam rejects them as well, whether they are found in a virtuous or a vicious soul. Citing PseudoDionysius’ The Divine Names, which says that “all goods rejoice in friendship and concord”, Barlaam notes that there can be no concord between virtue, on the one hand, and pleasure on the other hand. The one who seeks pleasure must compromise virtue; the one who seeks virtue will forgo many pleasures to attain it. Even here, Barlaam’s concern to base his rejection of bodily and external goods on the definition of happiness is evident, for he says, So pleasure and freedom from pain cannot be reckoned in the form of happiness, either with or without the virtues. And for this reason, all bodily and external goods, since they go back

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to this same freedom from pain and pleasure, must be separated from the form of happiness. Moreover the same thing has already been shown, in so far as they go back to [our] being itself. So these are especially separated from those goods which constitute the form of happiness. (ESS 1.25)

Since definitions are concerned only with a thing’s form, not the matter that makes it up, it is evident that the definition of happiness must exclude any reference to bodily and external goods. This, in turn, shows that both versions of the Peripatetic view are incorrect. The inclusivist view errs by lacking a procedure to decide among the three kinds of goods. The dominant view makes up for this omission by claiming that bodily and external goods should be chosen to the degree that they allow us to exercise virtue. By including bodily and external goods in the definition of happiness, however, the dominant view has included the material of happiness in its definition – much as if we were to define the nature of the human being as ‘body and soul’ instead of ‘rational mortal animal’. With this argument, the case against the Peripatetics is complete. Since neither function of secondary and external goods is connected to true happiness, we must conclude that virtue alone suffices for happiness. Of course, to say that virtue alone suffices for happiness does not imply that virtue is alone. We have already noted that the discussion of happiness presupposes an existing subject whose happiness we discuss. That existence presupposes a certain amount of goods necessary for life, and allows for other goods which bring pleasure and make life easier. But how do these other ‘goods’, which the Stoics call ‘preferred indifferents’ or ‘advantages’, relate to happiness? Although the Stoics claim that they have no moral value, they also grant (against the Cynics and Aristo) that these goods do have some value (ἀξία). We now turn to consider the place of bodily and external goods in the life of the man who is happy without regard to their presence or absence, solely by virtue, and to seek an answer to the question of how their value relates to the moral value by which alone happiness is comprised.

8. The Place of Advantages in the Happy Life (ESS 1.26–29) In order to illuminate the place of ‘advantages’ and ‘disadvantages’ in the life of the happy man, Barlaam distinguishes three ways in which they come about. Bodily and external goods come about by means of virtue when, for example, prudent handling of financial affairs allows me to increase my net value. They come about from fault when, for example, I increase my net value by taking what belongs to someone else. They come about by neither virtue or fault when, for example, I discover that my land contains gold and I increase my wealth by selling it. Barlaam applies the same analysis, mutatis mutandis, to bodily and external evils or disadvantages.

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This approach to the problem of advantages and disadvantages has several benefits. First, it allows Barlaam to make a plausible case for denying that advantages and disadvantages carry any moral value. Moral value attaches only to the motives and actions of the rational responsible agent, and not at all to any product or state of affairs which that agent may bring about. Advantages and disadvantages are not, strictly speaking, under my control; their presence and absence may be influenced, even determinatively, by other agents and things beyond my control (i.e., chance). Second, this approach is consistent with the Stoic emphasis on the centrality of the agent in moral theory. While Aristotelian ethics is founded on the duality of the human being as agent and recipient of action, Stoics focus exclusively on the human being as doer. There is a sense in which Stoic theory, with its agent-centred emphasis, is the culmination of the general ancient emphasis on the moral agent. Finally, it offers a way to explain the relationship between the value of virtue, on the one hand, and the value of bodily and external goods, on the other. The three kinds of goods are connected in that the exercise of the virtues brings about an increase or decrease in bodily and external goods.171 The relationship between virtues and bodily and external goods is thus a cause-effect relationship. The relationship between the value of the virtues and the value of bodily and external goods is founded on the cause-effect relationship which unites the goods themselves. In the light of this analysis, it may be useful to revisit Terence Irwin’s ‘Total’, a combination of virtue with bodily and external goods. Irwin claims that the value of the Total exceeds the value of virtue alone. Since that is so, Stoics may sometimes face a situation in which a small loss in the virtue-component of the Total is more than made up for by a sizable increase in the bodily and external good-component of the Total. Irwin says, “But still it may often happen, because of external conditions outside my control, that I need to select either virtue or some other component of the Total”.172 Barlaam’s cause-effect analysis of the relationship between the value of virtue and that of advantages, however, shows the flaw in Irwin’s argument. Consider another example of the cause-effect relationship, a sculptor and his statue. Bodily and external goods may vary from person to person, in the same way that different sculptors may have better or worse blocks of marble on which to sculpt. We may judge the work of different sculptors as better or worse, and we may judge different sculptors as better or worse, but there is no total made up of sculptor and work which we judge better or worse. In other words, there is one sort of value which sculptors have, and another sort which pieces of

Since the value of virtue is supreme for the Stoics, either advantage or disadvantage may be embraced by the moral agent, so long as virtue is not harmed but fostered. 172 Irwin 1986, 239. 171

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marble or statues have, but there is no value of the two or three together. One is cause, another is material, another is effect. Irwin’s claim that Stoics may face conflict in their system between the Total and virtue also rings hollow, given the cause-effect analysis of Barlaam. What would it mean, for example, to say of a sculptor that he would often (or ever) need to select either his sculpting skill or some other component of sculpting – say, a better block of marble? Indeed, a sculptor’s greatness may best be shown in his ability to produce a fine sculpture from a poor piece of marble. Now let us consider what Barlaam has to say about the relationship between advantages and disadvantages, on the one hand, and virtue on the other hand. The text of the ESS is unfortunately corrupt at this point; hence, what follows is partially based on conjecture. Having made his distinction among three ways in which advantages come, Barlaam claims that one of them is to be sought: Hence the first of the three ways, in which advantages or disadvantages happen with virtue [is to be sought]; for although they do [not] increase happiness in themselves by their presence, nevertheless for [happiness’] sake virtuous disposition and action are increased when they are sought. (ESS 1.28)

Barlaam grants that advantages and disadvantages make no contribution to happiness in themselves. Naturally, we seek advantages to preserve our life – the good life is, after all, a life – unless seeking them would compromise our moral choice. But this seeking is not connected with happiness per se. When, however, advantages serve as the occasion to exercise virtuous disposition and action, they are to be sought. On such occasions they allow an increase in virtue, in which alone happiness consists. An example may make this clearer. A student wishes to pursue an advanced degree. In itself, the degree is an external good, an advantage, which has no intrinsic ability to make the student happier. But the pursuit of the degree allows the student to exercise the virtue of, e.g., self-control, which in turn makes the student happier. Furthermore, the degree offers the student opportunities to exercise further virtue, which would not have been possible without it.173 The student’s happiness itself however, is found only in the virtue(s) exercised in connection with attaining the degree. Now if (as Barlaam and the Stoics think) the virtues are parts of the whole which is happiness, how can he say that “virtuous disposition and action are increased”, when happiness is complete in itself? In other words, how can something which is complete be increased? The answer seems to be that happiness’ completeness consists in its needing nothing outside the virtues to be self-sufficient. That does not, however, forgo growth and development in virtue and in virtuous action. In deciding which course of action to take, then, the

Of course, the pursuit of the degree also entails that the student embrace disadvantages, such as relative poverty. 173

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moral agent does not consider a ‘Total’ comprised of the various types of good. Rather, the moral agent considers, under the circumstances, which possible course of action will offer the greatest opportunity for that agent to exercise and grow in virtue. Such a decision-procedure is as open to choosing disadvantages as it is to choosing advantages. In this system, virtue alone is truly sovereign.

9. Conclusion: Some Critical Thoughts Barlaam approaches the problem of the role of bodily and external goods in happiness by tracing the two chief views to a difference in the definition of happiness. This method proves to be fruitful in several ways. In the first place, it allows him to show that the difference between Peripatetics and Stoics on this topic is not merely verbal, as some Peripatetics contend, but is truly substantive. The ambiguity and inconsistency of the Peripatetic position is highlighted by focusing carefully on the meaning of terms and the logical implications of their view. The form of Barlaam’s arguments reveals a detailed understanding of Aristotle’s Organon which makes the critique of the Peripatetic view even more devastating,174 since their view is rejected for reasons stemming from their own logical writings. The mark of any position’s strength is its ability to respond to arguments and views which it does not directly handle. When Barlaam criticizes the Peripatetic view, he chiefly has an inclusivist position in mind. He argues that the Peripatetic view offers no way to decide how much to pursue each of the three kinds of good. While this argument works powerfully against the inclusivist view, it carries no weight against the dominant view. Nevertheless, his basic strategy also works to refute the dominant view, because he shows that such a view includes both matter and form in its definition of happiness. Barlaam’s critique strikes the Peripatetic position precisely at the point of its greatest vulnerability: its logical consistency. He shows that once we admit bodily and external goods into happiness, we not only introduce uncertainty into the quest for happiness, but we also undermine the one pillar of happiness on which both Stoics and Peripatetics agree: virtue. Peripatetic sagehood involves internal contradictions which make it an empty concept, and the Peripatetic viator must so divide his desire for virtue and the other goods that the

Barlaam displayed that same understanding in his anti-Latin arguments – perhaps offering further support for his being the author of the ESS. Thus Gregory Akindynos relays these words of Barlaam to Gregory Palamas (in Hero 1983, 15): “I am writing about the demonstrative syllogism of Aristotle and his followers, in accordance with which it is impossible to ascend to the knowledge of God, or rather to subject God to our knowledge, which is what the Latins boast about.” 174

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quest for sagehood is impossible. In other words, the one who would be a Peripatetic sage is engaged in an impossible struggle for a non-existent goal. Barlaam’s presentation also allows a Stoic response to some difficult challenges posed by the Peripatetics. Consider, for example, the issue of moral progress. Ancient Stoic ethical doctrine was expressed in terms which suggested no middle ground between fool and sage. This, in turn, seemed to allow no place for progress from the former state to the latter. The Peripatetic attack on this point was so strong that Middle Stoics such as Panaetius and Posidonius modified Stoic anthropology, with Posidonius allowing an irrational component to the soul in order to have a basis for moral progress.175 Barlaam’s division of the mind into three components, and his distinction of degrees of disturbance based on those three components, allows a way to account for moral progress which is consistent with an instantaneous achievement of sagehood. This way of argument is all the more significant in that it appears in no other extant Stoic source. Since Barlaam claims that his work is extracted from many works of the Stoics, we may have here the only surviving evidence of a mainline Stoic response to the Peripatetic discussion of moral progress. In some cases, Barlaam offers a nonstandard way of responding to Peripatetic attacks on the Stoic view. Aristotle himself had said that virtue alone was inadequate for happiness, because it required action to be complete. The standard Stoic response to this criticism was to claim that the virtuous willing itself was activity, and the external act was merely an aftergrowth. Barlaam, however, responded to the Aristotelian argument by broadening the class of morally significant action to include any activity done by the moral agent – even such simple activities as sitting or standing. The Calabrian highlights two features of happiness which make the Stoic view desirable. First of these is its security. If, as the Peripatetics say, our happiness partially depends on bodily and external goods then, since these depend on fortune, we can never truly be happy. The one who lacks those goods may never attain them; the one who has them must remain uncertain about whether goods once attained can be kept. Of course, such security requires that I cut loose the strings which tie me to individuals and things which most people feel are significant parts of a good life. And this seems to undercut the ties of family, friendship, and the broader community without which human life is, well, less than human. To this concern two points may be raised. First, the communitarian aspects of human flourishing are grounded by the doctrine of οἰκείωσις. Human community is no less natural than daily bread; but, like daily bread, there is no ethical demand, beyond the commitments one has already made or inherited, to be involved with a particular given community. Those commitments themselves are sufficient to account for loyalty, even to the point of death – as is shown in Epictetus’

175

See 151 above.

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discussion of the Roman senator Helvidius Priscus.176 Second, when we discuss family, friendship, and the broader community, we must distinguish between our own actions and words, which are completely under our control, and those of the other party, which are completely out of our control. How much time is wasted, how much dysfunctionality is increased, when people try to control others, who are not under their control! Besides being secure, the Stoic view of happiness is also accessible. There is no baseline amount or quality of bodily or external goods required for happiness. If one is alive, one has enough of a supply of goods with which virtue, and hence happiness, may be pursued. Each agent is already located in a nexus of goods and relationships, and happiness may be found in that nexus. Although Aristotle speaks of happiness being accessible, by defining it in terms of political rule or philosophical reflection, he makes it unattainable for the majority of people. The Stoic view, as presented by Barlaam, has two key issues which he does not address. First of these is the source of error. The Peripatetic position could explain how error can arise in ethics by referring to the irrational part of the soul. The Stoic position (which denies the existence of an irrational part of the soul) cannot explain how it is that mental darkness can come about in the soul, thus giving rise to disturbances or passions. When he speaks of mental darkness, Barlaam says that something happens to the mind of man. We never learn why it happens and how it might be prevented. The second problem Barlaam’s presentation of the Stoic view is its apparent neglect of the social and communitarian aspects of human beings. While the Stoics address this issue with their discussion of οἰκείωσις, Barlaam leaves this important area unaddressed. He offers no discussion of how friendship can be possible, or how it is ethically significant. Barlaam’s moral agent appears to be an individual at the deepest level of being. Security is won at the cost of isolation. This is also true concerning the human/divine relationship. In Orthodox theological thought, human personhood derives from divine personhood. The deity, however, plays no significant role in Barlaam’s presentation of Stoic ethics – which is all the more surprising, given that he was a bishop. Barlaam’s moral agent could conduct life as a Robinson Crusoe, without the need for any Friday. I will conclude by asking what insight the problem we have discussed gives on the Stoic and Peripatetic ethical systems as a whole. The Peripatetics, it seems, develop an ethics of human nature which takes seriously aspects both of individual existence and of community. The fact that humans are comprised of body and soul necessitates that virtues, bodily goods, and external goods must all play a role in the happy life. Chief among those external goods is the good of friendship. The norm of ethical theory is human experience as it is,

176

Epictetus, Diss. 1.2.19–21.

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and reason’s task is to harmonize experience to the degree that is possible. Because we experience life in communities, with family and political relationships, a significant part of ethical life is devoted to the cultivation of excellence in those relationships. Because it is our nature to be both agent and recipient of action, virtue relates both to actions and to passion; the goal of virtue is that passion be moderated. By introducing bodily and external goods into happiness, however, the Peripatetics are drawn into the problem of moral luck. Some things which I view as necessary for happiness are relatively or completely out of my control. The net effect of this, as Thomas Nagel points out, is that the individual as moral agent begins to shrink to the point of disappearing. Furthermore, by attempting to keep all the insights of human experience and feeling the need to ‘keep the appearances’, the Peripatetics achieve plausibility at the expense of logical consistency. Aristotle attempts to avoid this conclusion by asking for a more lenient standard in moral matters, but the Calabrian’s answer suggests that the internal incoherence of the Peripatetic view is fatal to its implementation. The Stoics, on the other hand, develop an ethics which centres on moral agency. Happiness is not something I am given, in whole or in part, but something I achieve. Those aspects of experience in which I function as a recipient of action are morally irrelevant. That does not mean, however, that they are completely indifferent, as the Cynics and Aristo would contend. Advantages which help us to survive (e.g. food) and which help us develop virtue (e.g. money, for the sake of generosity) are worth pursuing, unless that pursuit damages or destroys virtue. The external goods for which the Peripatetics argued are assumed by the Stoics; if an agent has enough of them to be alive, he has enough to engage in moral activity. The problem the Stoics face is opposite to that which the Peripatetics face. By elevating the individual moral agent to the highest status of any ancient theory, the Stoic view is under increased pressure to account for life in community. Their use of οἰκείωσις seems to address this concern adequately, since even the Peripatetics began to make use of a version of it. But the Stoic way is hard to pursue in practice; one need only think of Epictetus’ Enchiridion 3, which says: With regard to whatever objects give you delight, are useful, or are deeply loved, remember to tell yourself of what general nature they are, beginning from the most insignificant things. If, for example, you are fond of a specific ceramic cup, remind yourself that it is only ceramic cups in general of which you are fond. Then, if it breaks, you will not be disturbed. If you kiss your child, or your wife, say that you only kiss things which are human, and thus you will not be disturbed if either of them dies.

Again, if the Peripatetic view achieves plausibility at the price of consistency, the Stoic view achieves consistency at the expense of believability. All sins are

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equal; every fool is mad; only the wise man is free and rich – these and other paradoxes were the stock in trade of the ancient Stoics.177 Despite these difficulties, there is much in the Stoic position to commend it. Virtue alone becomes the object of our pursuit; those who place little value and no moral value on external things will not be dismayed if those things are taken away or destroyed. The pursuit of virtue is accessible to all people, requires no additional goods, and is secure. Barlaam uses familiar materials in a novel way to demonstrate the superiority of the Stoic view.

177

See Cicero’s Paradoxa Stoicorum for a discussion of these paradoxes.

The Stoic Theory of Emotions in Book 2 of Ethica secundum Stoicos John Sellars In Book 2 of the Ethica secundum Stoicos (ESS) Barlaam of Seminara outlines an account of the Stoic theory of emotions not attested anywhere else.1 It is claimed, in the title of the treatise, that this account comes from “many volumes of the Stoics” (ex pluribus voluminibus eorumdem Stoicorum). Barlaam presents as Stoic doctrine an eightfold division of emotional states of the mind based on the presence or absence of three things: true value judgements, mental evenness, and a favourable will. This is quite different from accounts of the Stoic theory that we know from other sources, such as Cicero and Diogenes Laertius. In those accounts, we find a fourfold division of negative emotions based on beliefs about whether something good or bad is either present or expected in the future. To complicate matters further, Barlaam also reports this standard account (with a slight modification), and then integrates it with his new eightfold account. Barlaam, then, offers a significantly more complex account of the Stoic theory of emotions than any of the other extant sources provide. At first encounter it is difficult to know what to make of all this. Did Barlaam really find this more complex account in texts written by Stoics? If so, which Stoics? If it derived ultimately from the philosophy of the early Stoa, then why did not Cicero report it in his discussions of Stoic emotions? If it originated with a later Hellenistic Stoic – say, Posidonius – then surely Galen would have highlighted it as a further inconsistency between Chrysippus and Posidonius worth reporting in his De placitis Hippocratis et Platonis. Yet at

In what follows I shall use both ‘emotions’ and, more often, ‘emotional disturbances’. I use the latter as a translation for Barlaam’s perturbationes. Cicero had used perturbatio as a translation for πάθος (Fin. 3.35; Tusc. 4.10), but he has been criticized for this (e.g. Sorabji 2000, 182), because perturbatio is a narrower concept than πάθος. Barlaam seems to acknowledge that concern too, because at ESS 2.13 he distinguishes between the broader category of passiones, encompassing both perturbationes (negative emotions) and constantiae (positive emotions). When I use ‘emotion’ I usually have this broader category in mind. 1

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the same time there seem to be no obvious reasons why Barlaam would fabricate this new account and pass it off as ancient Stoic doxography. In the following sections we shall examine Barlaam’s new account of Stoic emotions, his account of the standard view, and the way in which he integrates the two. We shall also consider his critical remarks against the alternative Peripatetic approach to emotions. At the end, we shall come back to the question of potential sources.

1. The Stoic Soul (ESS 2.1) Barlaam’s account of the Stoic theory of emotions is prefaced by the claim that the soul contains within itself two powers (ESS 2.1). The first of these enables us to engage in a range of rational activities. Barlaam calls this the vis intellectiva and says that it is usually referred to as ‘mind’ (mens). The second power is what leads us to pursue or avoid the things that the mind has judged to be good or bad. Barlaam calls this the vis appetitiva. At first glance this division within the soul might not seem especially Stoic, for it might be taken to imply the possibility of internal mental conflict, something that the Stoics denied.2 We can, however, find a similar distinction in Cicero’s De officiis, which is often taken to report Stoic material: The power and nature of the soul is twofold: one part of it consists of impulse (appetitus), called in Greek ὁρμή,3 which snatches a man this way and that; the other of reason (ratio), which teaches and explains what should be done and what avoided. Reason therefore commands, and impulse obeys.4

A little later, Cicero reiterates the distinction: The soul can be moved in two ways: by thought (cogitatio) or by impulse (appetitus). Thought is for the most part occupied with seeking what is true, while impulse drives one to act.5

Both of these passages come from Book 1 of De officiis, which is widely held to be based on the now lost Περὶ τοῦ καθήκοντος by the Stoic Panaetius.6 Indeed, both passages are printed in the standard collection of Panaetian

On the Stoic denial of ἀκρασία see e.g. Gill 1983; Müller 2014. 3 Most texts of Off. print ὁρμή in Greek, as I have here, but the OCT text by Winterbottom simply prints “horme”. 4 Cicero, Off. 1.101 (trans. Griffin and Atkins 1991, modified). 5 Cicero, Off. 1.132 (trans. Griffin and Atkins 1991, modified). 6 On Cicero’s use of Panaetius see Dyck 1996, 17–29; Brunt 2013, 180–242. Cicero himself comments on it in Att. 16.11.4 (420 Shackleton Bailey, LCL). 2

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fragments.7 On one view, such passages might be taken as evidence of Panaetius’ debt to Plato and his role as the founder of what is sometimes called the ‘Middle Stoa’.8 However, the view that there existed a Middle Stoa dramatically different in outlook from the early Stoa has been challenged by others.9 Yet it is common for commentators on these passages in Cicero to point to parallels in Plato’s Phaedrus, especially the famous analogy with a charioteer trying to control two unruly horses at 246a–b.10 That image, of course, implies a threefold division of the soul, with reason trying to control two irrational elements.11 One of the reasons why the task is so difficult, Plato suggests, is precisely because these two irrational elements often pull in different directions. The twofold distinction we find in Barlaam and Cicero looks to be quite different. As Cicero makes explicit, the appetitive part of the soul is what the Greek Stoics called ὁρμή, usually translated as ‘impulse’. Elsewhere, Cicero attributes to Plato a twofold division of the soul into reason (ratio) and emotional disturbance (perturbatio),12 but that is again quite different from a division into reason and appetite or impulse. It is perhaps also worth noting that in the cases of both Cicero and Barlaam, the division is not into parts of the soul but into powers.13 The important point, however, is the nature of the relationship between the two. On the standard Stoic view attributed to Chrysippus, impulse (ὁρμή) is ultimately dependent upon reason (λόγος). As Inwood puts it, “Chrysippus would not admit that hormê was an independent force able to disobey logos”.14 This is in accord with Cicero’s statement quoted above that reason commands and impulse obeys. Impulses are not a distinct force within the soul, but rather the product of the unified ruling part of the soul, the ἡγεμονικόν.15 For the Stoics impulses are the origin or beginning of action.16 While animal impulses are more or less automatic responses to experiences, rational humans

7

See frr. 87 and 88 respectively in Van Straaten 1952. The latter is also printed in LS

53J. See e.g. Inwood 1985, 292–293 (with references to earlier literature). On the notion of the ‘Middle Stoa’, see Schmekel 1892. 9 See e.g. Sedley 2003, 20–24; Brunt 2013, 95; Dyck 1996, 17. As Dyck comments, Panaetius did not initiate a radical departure from the early Stoa and his views were “mostly anticipated by his predecessors”. 10 See e.g. Dyck 1996, 261; Walsh 2000, 146. 11 Thus, this threefold division of the soul in the Phaedrus is similar to the threefold division examined at greater length in Book 4 of the Republic. 12 Cicero, Tusc. 4.10. 13 With regard to Cicero, see Inwood, 1985, 293. 14 Inwood 1985, 293. 15 See e.g. Aetius 4.21.1 (SVF 2.836, LS 53H), with further passages in LS 53P–R. 16 See the discussion in Annas 1992, 89–102. 8

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are able to decide how to respond to the impressions they receive. The assents to impressions made by the rational mind determine how we act, which is to say the impulses that we have.17 As Diogenes Laertius puts it, it is natural for animals to be governed by impulse, but for (adult) humans reason becomes the craftsman (τεχνίτης) of impulse.18 For humans, then, impulses are ultimately assents made by reason. In this sense, these are not two distinct faculties of the mind that are in conflict with one another. Thus, the division that Barlaam introduces is in line with the standard Stoic view and neither he nor Panaetius (if he is the source behind the similar account in Cicero) are heterodox here.19

2. Three Mental Traits (ESS 2.2) It is in ch. 2 that Barlaam introduces three distinctions that lay the foundations for his distinctive account of Stoic emotions. The first distinction is between true (vera) and false (falsa) opinion (opinio). In particular, he has in mind opinions regarding what is good or bad (bonis vel malis), which are based on value judgements. When someone makes a correct value judgement – considering something good to be good, for instance – then they hold a true opinion. This is in line with standard Stoic thinking.20 The second distinction that Barlaam draws is between what he calls darkness of mind (obscuratio) and evenness (aequabilitas). Drawing an analogy with sight, Barlaam suggests that just as our vision is sometimes dulled or foggy, so too sometimes a similar thing can happen to the mind. When this happens with vision, it is unambiguously a bad thing: it is always better for our sight to be clear and sharp. The same applies with the mind, Barlaam argues. When the mind is in a state of darkness, it is less able to follow reason, and more likely to make errors. This is obviously a state of mind that ought to be avoided: obscuratio mentis est malum menti (ESS 2.2). Later, at ESS 2.7, Barlaam will identify such darkness of mind with emotional disturbances (perturbationes). This clearly parallels familiar Stoic arguments about the dangers of emotional disturbances that cloud the mind and inhibit the ability to reason clearly.21

See Ar. Did. in Stobaeus 9b, 2,88,1–7 WH (SVF 3.171, LS 33I). 18 Diog. Laert. 7.86 (SVF 3.178, LS 57A). 19 The full Stoic view was more complex than this very brief summary implies. For further discussion of some of the problems surrounding the term, see Annas 1992, 89–102. 20 See e.g. Sextus Empiricus, Math. 7.151–152 (SVF 2.90, LS 41C). 21 See e.g. Ar. Did. in Stobaeus 10a, 2,89,4–5 WH, who calls πάθη “disobedient to reason”, and the extended account in Book 1 of Seneca’s De ira. 17

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The goal is to reach a state of evenness or consistency (aequabilitas), free from all such disturbances.22 A mind free from emotional disturbances will be one that is even and consistent in its judgements, never clouded or knocked off course. The term aequabilitas crops up a number of times in Cicero’s philosophical works. In De officiis 1.111 he defines decorum as an “evenness of life as a whole” (aequabilitas universae vitae), while in Tusculanae disputationes 4.31 he defines beauty of the soul as an “evenness and consistency of beliefs and judgements” (opinionum iudiciorumque aequabilitas et constantia). In a letter from Brutus to Cicero the concepts of aequabilitas and constantia are also paired as positive character traits.23 The third distinction that Barlaam draws is between a harmful will (malefica voluntas) and a favourable will (benefica voluntas).24 He tells us that these labels simply refer to different types of appetite (appetitus) which, as we saw earlier, ought to be understood as impulse (ὁρμή). Once again, Barlaam takes it as straightforwardly obvious that a harmful will is something bad and to be avoided, while a favourable will is unconditionally good. Thus, he presents us with three divisions between binary opposites, one good and the other bad: i)

true opinion (vera opinio)

versus

false opinion (falsa opinio)

ii)

mental evenness (mentis aequabilitas)

versus

mental darkness (mentis obscuratio)

iii)

favourable will (benefica voluntas)

versus

harmful will (malefica voluntas)

It is possible for the mind to have these traits in a variety of combinations.25 Of the three negative traits, Barlaam points to a harmful will as the worst of the three to possess. He justifies this by saying that it is the most damaging because

The word aequabilitas has been translated a variety of ways in the past. Translators of Cicero have for example used ‘equipoise’, ‘evenness’, ‘an even keel’, and ‘consistency’. Lewis and Short (1879) and the OLD also suggest ‘uniformity’ and ‘equability’. 23 See Cicero, Ad Brut. 1.16.10 (25 Shackleton Bailey, LCL). 24 It is difficult to know how best to translate maleficus and beneficus. The simplest solution is to use ‘maleficent’ and ‘beneficent’, but these are not common words and may sound overly technical. The general senses intended here are simply ‘bad’ and ‘good’. Suggestions for maleficus include ‘evil’, ‘vicious’, ‘wicked’, and ‘harmful’; those for beneficus include ‘generous’, ‘kind’, ‘beneficent’, and ‘favourable’. 25 One might compare this with Ar. Did. in Stobaeus 5c, 2,68,24–2,69,10 WH (Pomeroy 1999, 28), where it is said that one can draw a distinction between possessing intelligence and experiencing good emotions: sometimes intelligent people will experience good emotions (i.e. mental evenness), but sometimes not. Similarly, sometimes stupid people will experience emotional disturbances such as fear (i.e. mental darkness), but sometimes not. 22

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it “inheres in the soul (inhaereat animo), even without sudden and confused mental activity or false opinion” (ESS 2.2). What he appears to be referring to here is an ingrained habit of behaviour. Given that Barlaam defines a harmful will as an appetite to act badly, and given that by appetite here we might understand impulse (ὁρμή), following Cicero, then what he seems to be referring to here is an ingrained habitual impulse. Sources suggest that the Stoics called this an ἕξις ὁρμητική.26 When this is negative, it is, Barlaam argues, the worst possible condition of the mind. False opinions are not far behind, in so far as they generate harmful impulses. The least detrimental (minimum malum) of the three is mental darkness or emotional disturbance. While the Stoics are widely associated with a strident rejection of such disturbances, Barlaam here argues that, although ideally to be avoided, they are far from the worst thing to befall the mind. If one has true opinions and a favourable will then, even with some emotional disturbance, overall the mind will be in a good condition. Impulses are far more important to attend to than emotions, he argues shortly after, because they are the things that determine how we behave and act in the world.

3. Varieties of Will (ESS 2.3–4) Having said that a harmful will is the worst of these three traits of the mind, Barlaam goes on to draw a distinction between two types of harmful will and, mirroring this, two types of favourable will. The distinction he wants to draw is between i) a bad impulse caused by a sudden emotional disturbance, such as someone lashing out in anger, and ii) a more ingrained bad impulse that persists over time and is not the product of any specific stimulus. The latter is, of course, much worse, and it is this that he has in mind when he argues that a harmful will is the worst trait to have. It is, he says, something rooted in the soul (insita est in animo). As noted above, this sounds like an ingrained habitual impulse. Someone who has developed a habit of lashing out at people in anger is evidently in a worse condition than someone who does so only on odd occasions under extreme provocation. The point that Barlaam wants to make here is that when he says that a harmful will is the worst trait to have, what he has in mind is this kind of ingrained habitual impulse and not merely an occasional reactive outburst. One might compare this to a seemingly similar distinction in Cicero’s De officiis: In every case of injustice it matters a great deal whether the injury was committed through some emotional disturbance (perturbatione), which is generally brief and momentary, or

26

See e.g. Ar. Did. in Stobaeus 9, 2,87,9–13 WH (SVF 3.169).

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purposefully and with forethought. For those things that happen because of some sudden impulse are less serious than those inflicted after reflection and preparation.27

However, there are important differences between Barlaam and Cicero. What Cicero is describing is something deliberate, not merely unthinking habit. It has been suggested that the contrast that Cicero draws, possibly following Panaetius, does not correspond to any known Stoic distinction.28 Barlaam’s concern with unthinking habits shares more in common with what we find in Epictetus, who discussed at length the dangers of letting bad habits embed themselves.29 The contrast that Barlaam wants to draw, then, is between what Seneca called a moment of “temporary madness” (brevis insania)30 and the sorts of bad habits that Epictetus characterized as scars on the mind.31 A similar distinction also applies in the case of a favourable will. Barlaam draws a distinction between i) an occasional positive outburst of, say, charity and ii) a lasting positive habit of good actions based on reason. Again, he characterizes the latter as implanted in the soul (est animo insita et permanens).While the former is undoubtedly good, it is spontaneous and sporadic. The latter, by contrast, embodies the sort of consistency that the Stoics often associated with virtuous action.32

4. An Eightfold Division of Mental States (ESS 2.5–9) With that clarification made about what Barlaam has in mind when he refers to a harmful or a favourable will, he next moves on to consider the relationship between these three traits. It is worth stressing at this point that although Barlaam presents these as three distinct traits, they are in fact closely interconnected. As we have just seen, a harmful will can be the product of an emotional disturbance, which is to say, a mental darkness. An ingrained harmful will, understood as a bad habitual impulse, is presumably the product of repeated emotional disturbances. Similarly, these disturbances are what cloud the mind leading it to make false judgements and so hold false opinions. Conversely, holding a false opinion will itself lead to an emotional disturbance. Judgements

Cicero. Off. 1.27 (trans. Griffin and Atkins 1991, modified): Sed in omni iniustitia permultum interest utrum perturbatione aliqua animi, quae plerumque brevis est et ad tempus, an consulto et cogitata fiat iniuria. Leviora enim sunt ea quae repentino aliquo motu accidunt quam ea quae meditata et praeparata inferuntur. 28 See Dyck 1996, 122. 29 See Epictetus, Diss. 2.18.5–12 and 3.16.9–16. 30 Seneca, Ira 1.1.2. 31 Epictetus, Diss. 2.18.11. 32 See e.g. Diog. Laert. 7.89 (SVF 3.39, LS 61A). This idea of consistency (ὁμολογία) is also central to the Stoic goal (τέλος); see Stobaeus 2,75,11–12 WH (SVF 1.179, LS 63B). 27

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and opinions, mental darkness and disturbance, bad habitual impulses – these three things are clearly all closely interrelated with each other according to standard Stoic teaching. Unsurprisingly, the best mental state involves all three of these positive traits: true judgement (verum iudicium), mental evenness (aequalitas mentis), and a favourable will (benefica voluntas). When these three things “concur with our appetitive power” – i.e. our impulse – we attain the state of constancy (constantia). What does Barlaam have in mind when he uses the term constantia? In the Tusculanae disputationes, Cicero uses constantiae to describe the three positive emotional states that Greek sources call εὐπάθειαι.33 However, as Graver has commented, this is a potentially misleading translation by Cicero, not to mention inconsistent with his practice elsewhere.34 Just a few paragraphs earlier in the same work, Cicero uses constantia in its more usual sense to mean something like consistency of mind.35 It is in this latter sense that Seneca uses constantia throughout his works. In his Epistulae morales Seneca lists constantia as a virtue alongside other virtues such as tranquillity and simplicity.36 Seneca connects this virtue with good judgement and true opinion,37 which puts it in line with what Barlaam has in mind. He also says that, as a virtue, constantia is something that cannot be improved further: “Constancy cannot advance further […]. What can be added to that which is perfect? Nothing […]. The ability to increase is proof that a thing is still imperfect”.38 Again, this is in line with Barlaam’s presentation of constantia as the mind in a perfect state. At first glance, then, it looks as if Barlaam is using constantia in the Senecan sense of the term rather than the Ciceronian sense that tends to dominate in discussions of Stoic emotions. However, we shall return to this issue later on. This perfect state of constantia arises when all three positive traits are present. That is presumably a rare occurrence. It may be that none of these positive traits is present, or perhaps just one or two of them. The absence or presence of each of these states generates a total of eight possible combinations: the perfect state of constantia and seven further combinations. Four of these combinations will involve the absence of mental evenness, which is to say that they will include mental darkness. As we have seen, this is equivalent to emotional disturbance (perturbatio). There are, thus, four different types of emotional

See Cicero, Tusc. 4.14 (SVF 3.438); compare with Diog. Laert. 7.115–116 (SVF 3.431). 34 See Graver 2002, 136. 35 See Cicero, Tusc. 4.10. Graver 2002, 136, suggests that in this context Cicero is using it as an equivalent for the Greek ὁμολογία. 36 See e.g. Seneca, Ep. 66.13; cf. 67.10; 120.11. 37 See Ep. 92.3 and 102.13. 38 Seneca, Ep. 66.9. (trans. Gummere, LCL). 33

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disturbance according to Barlaam, defined by the presence or absence of the two other traits (ESS 2.7): Table 1: Four Grades of Emotional Disturbance Disturbances (perturbationes): 1. Least evil

mental darkness (obscuratio mentis)

true opinion (vere opinio)

favourable will (benefica voluntas)

2. Lesser evil

mental darkness (obscuratio mentis)

false opinion (falsa opinio)

favourable will (benefica voluntas)

3. Lesser evil

mental darkness (obscuratio mentis)

true opinion (vere opinio)

harmful will (malefica voluntas)

4. Worst

mental darkness (obscuratio mentis)

false opinion (falsa opinio)

harmful will (malefica voluntas)

The worst type of disturbance is unsurprisingly when mental darkness is combined with false opinion and a harmful will. The least damaging is when mental darkness is combined with true opinion and a favourable will. Between these are two further states in which mental darkness is combined with one positive and one negative trait. Later, at ESS. 2.9, Barlaam ranks these, prioritizing the presence of a favourable will over true opinion. As one can see, mental disturbance according to Barlaam is not an all-or-nothing affair; it can be better or worse depending on the presence or absence of the other two traits. That leaves three further combinations. These are not states of emotional disturbance but they are nevertheless imperfect due to the presence of either false opinion or a harmful will. Barlaam gives each of these three states a specific name and for two of these the name that he gives involves the transliteration of a Greek word (ESS 2.8): Table 2: Three Imperfect States Imperfect States: Insanity (elythiotes, vesania)

mental evenness (aequabilitas)

false opinion (falsa opinio)

harmful will (malefica voluntas)

Malice (malitia)

mental evenness (aequabilitas)

true opinion (vere opinio)

harmful will (malefica voluntas)

Simplicity (afelia, simplicitas)

mental evenness (aequabilitas)

false opinion (falsa opinio)

favourable will (benefica voluntas)

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The presence of these transliterated Greek words – elythiotes (ἠλιθιότης) and afelia (ἀφέλεια) – might be taken as evidence for the claim that Barlaam is drawing on a Greek source here, although it is of course possible that he could have been using a Latin work that contained either odd words of Greek (as we see in Cicero’s philosophical works) or longer quotations from Greek (as we find in the Noctes Atticae of Aulus Gellius). Either way, each of these terms deserves some comment. The Greek word ἠλιθιότης refers to stupidity or foolishness. Epictetus uses the cognate ἠλίθιος when describing people or actions that are unwise, stupid, or foolish.39 In the epitome of Stoic ethics by Arius Didymus, ἠλίθιος is used as a synonym for φαῦλος and ἄφρων, both standard words for a non-wise person.40 This is in some respects a complex category in Stoicism because it is clearly negative, and so something to be avoided, and yet it is the category that almost everyone falls into, given the rarity of the sage. The Latin equivalent that Barlaam offers, vesania, is perhaps a bit harsher and is often translated as ‘madness’ or ‘insanity’.41 Seneca uses it in this sense when describing the nonwise.42 However, what Barlaam offers surely cannot be intended as a formal definition of what it means to be non-wise according to the Stoics. Only the sage, perfect in all three traits and enjoying constantia, escapes the category of the non-wise. Even so, it is an appropriate label for one of the more negative states in Barlaam’s taxonomy. Barlaam’s use of the word malitia or malice to describe someone who has mental evenness and true opinions but suffers from a harmful will seems highly appropriate. The word is often used in a much broader sense to mean badness or wickedness in general, and this is the sense in which Seneca often uses it in his Epistulae morales, where it is usually used to describe the opposite of virtue (virtus).43 However, in the Tusculanae disputationes, Cicero makes the following comment about the term: The opposite then of such virtue is viciousness (vitiositas), for I prefer to use this translation for the Greek term κακία, rather than ‘malice’ (malitia), for ‘malice’ is the name of a particular definite vice, viciousness is applicable to all.44

See e.g. Epictetus, Diss. 2.21.5; 3.7.14; 3.24.21; 4.1.101; 4.8.21. 40 See Ar. Did. in Stobaeus 2,102,9 WH (Pomeroy 1999, 76) and compare with 2,101,13 and 2,102,2. 41 See e.g. Lewis and Short 1879. 42 See e.g. Seneca, Ira 1.3.8 and 2.35.5. It is worth noting that in these passages Seneca uses vesania to describe the madness of the angry or emotionally disturbed person. Yet, as we have seen, Barlaam’s category does not include emotional disturbance. However, in neither case does it seem that the word is being used in any technical sense. 43 See e.g. Seneca, Ep. 81.21 and 22; 82.12 and 14. 44 Cicero, Tusc. 4.34. (trans. King, LCL, modified, following Graver 2002, 51). See also Fin. 4.30 where Cicero makes the same point. 39

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This might lead one to assume that malitia was already in circulation as a translation of κακία. Alternatively it might have simply presented itself as an obvious contender because it is the abstract noun corresponding to malus, just as κακία corresponds to κακός.45 But, as Cicero notes, malitia is too narrow a notion to capture the full range of non-virtuous behaviour. Cicero’s point evidently went unnoticed or unheeded by Seneca, but Barlaam’s use of malitia is in accord with Cicero in so far as he uses the term to refer to a specific imperfect mental condition rather than viciousness in general. The Greek word ἀφέλεια, ‘simplicity’, can be used with both positive and negative connotations. In Arius Didymus ἀφελής is included in a list of positive character traits.46 Of the three states listed by Barlaam, this is ranked highest, primarily because of the importance that he places on having a favourable will. But it might also be taken to mean ‘simple’ in a different, less flattering sense, for it is referring to someone who is well intentioned and free from emotional disturbance but who nevertheless holds false opinions. Such a person might mean well, but still make mistakes out of ignorance or confusion. When someone like that is called ‘simple’, it is not really in praise. Barlaam appears to be using it in this second sense, to refer to someone who holds false beliefs. But within the wider taxonomy that Barlaam maps out, this is far from being the worst condition in which someone can be. The order in which Barlaam introduces these three states starts with the worst, foolishness, and ends with the least objectionable, simplicity. As we have seen, all three benefit from mental evenness. Simplicity is the best of the three because it also involves a favourable will, and this is preferable over a harmful will, even when the latter is combined with true opinion. Foolishness is unambiguously the worst because it involves both a harmful will and false opinion. As we saw earlier, Barlaam also ranks in order the four states of mental disturbance. The worst obviously involves both a harmful will and false opinion, while the best involves a favourable will and true opinion. Of the two intermediate states, Barlaam again prioritizes having a favourable will over having true opinion.

I owe this point to Powell 1995, 298–299. 46 See Ar. Did. in Stobaeus 2,108,10 WH (SVF 3.630; Pomeroy 1999, 88). It is perhaps also worth noting that ἀφέλεια appears just once in von Arnim’s SVF (according to Adler’s index), in Clement of Alexandria (Paedogogus 3.11, SVF 3.276). However, there is nothing explicit in Clement’s text to suggest that he is reporting Stoic material here. 45

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5. The Standard Stoic Account of Emotions (ESS 2.10–11) The account of emotional disturbances that we have seen so far is quite different from what we might call the ‘standard account’ reported by Cicero, Diogenes Laertius, and others.47 That account also involves a fourfold division but it is different from the one that we have just seen Barlaam make. In Cicero’s version, reported in the Tusculanae disputationes, there are four primary types of emotional disturbance (perturbatio) each caused by the idea of there being something good or bad, either present or anticipated in the future.48 On his account, the idea that something good is present generates pleasure (voluptas) and something good expected in the future generates desire (cupiditas); the idea that something bad is present generates distress (aegritudo), while the thought of something bad in the future generates fear (metus). The parallel accounts in Diogenes Laertius and Stobaeus provide the Greek terms that Cicero has rendered into Latin, sometimes with more than one Latin term.49 It may be useful to set out in full the terms that these principal sources report: Table 3: The Standard Stoic Account of Emotions

Present good (pleasure)

Cicero (Tusc. 3.24–25) laetitia voluptas

Diogenes Laertius (7.110) ἡδονή

Stobaeus (2,88,14–15 WH) ἡδονή

Future good (desire)

cupiditas libido

ἐπιθυμία

ἐπιθυμία

Present evil (distress)

aegritudo

λύπη

λύπη

Future evil (fear)

metus formido

φόβος

φόβος

What I shall call the ‘standard account’ is reported in a number of sources, including Cicero, Tusc. 3.24–25 (SVF 3.385) and 4.11–14; Fin. 3.35 (SVF 3.381); Diog. Laert. 7.110– 116; Stobaeus 2,88,14–21 WH. This account is usually thought ultimately to derive from a lost work by Chrysippus, probably his Περὶ παθῶν (in which see Tieleman 2003, esp. 114– 122). Diogenes Laertius says that the basic fourfold division was already made by Zeno (7.110, SVF 1.211). It has been argued that the principal sources draw on a single ethical doxography; see Giusta 1964–1967, esp. i, 48–58 and ii, 229–283 on the material dealing with Stoic πάθη. 48 See Cicero, Tusc. 3.24–25. 49 In Fin. 3.35 Cicero confirms that he is using laetitia to translate ἡδονή. There he also uses formido to translate φόβος. 47

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This is clearly very different from the fourfold division outlined by Barlaam in which the various states are distinguished not with reference to value judgements about something present or anticipated but instead based upon the presence or absence of true opinion and a favourable will. Barlaam’s account is at first glance clearly not the standard Stoic account. However, Barlaam goes on to complicate matters by introducing what he simply calls “another division” of the same things (ESS 2.10). What he outlines is – more or less – the standard account just described above, with one significant variation. Every emotional disturbance, he says, is a mental darkness derived from an opinion or belief (opinio) in something either good or evil. Such good and evil things can be not merely present or future, but past, present, or future. The belief in something evil either past or present is called distress (aegritudo), while one anticipated in the future is called fear or dread (metus vel timor). A belief in something good either past or present is called pleasure (laetitia) and belief in an anticipated good in the future is called desire (cupiditas, libido).50 The inclusion of beliefs about past goods and evils will have a significant consequence when we turn to the topic of εὐπάθειαι, ‘good emotions’, later on. In the meantime, we can set out Barlaam’s account alongside Cicero’s: Table 4: The Standard Account in Cicero and Barlaam Cicero (Tusc. 3.24–25) Present good laetitia voluptas

Barlaam (ESS 2.10) Past and present good

Future good

cupiditas libido

Future good

cupiditas libido desiderium

Present evil

aegritudo

Past and present evil

aegritudo angor

Future evil

metus formido

Future evil

metus timor

laetitia iocunditas delectatio

Both in terms of structure and terminology, this second fourfold division outlined by Barlaam is largely the same as the standard account reported by

In ESS 2.10 Barlaam offers some further names for some of these, but I have not listed them all here. 50

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Cicero, Diogenes Laertius, and others.51 What we get in Barlaam’s ESS, then, is both a completely new fourfold division of Stoic emotional disturbances and the standard fourfold division widely taken to be the Stoic account.

6. Two Fourfold Accounts Combined (ESS 2.11) Barlaam’s next and striking move is to combine these two accounts, arguing that the four different types of emotional disturbance set out in the standard account can be varied according to the first fourfold division. Barlaam takes the example of mercy (misericordia), which he defines as distress (aegritudo) caused by an opinion or belief that someone else is being oppressed by injustice (alterius iniuria laborantis).52 This is one type of emotional disturbance that falls in the category of those caused by a belief in a present evil. This disturbance or mental darkness might be based on a true opinion that someone is indeed suffering unjustly, but it might equally be based on a mistake, such as a false report. Both of those possibilities might be conjoined with a favourable will that impels the person to act for the benefit of the injured (or supposedly injured) party. They could alternatively be combined with a harmful will, rendering the agent too lazy or indifferent to intervene. In sum, there is not one emotional state of mercy, but four, varied through these different combinations of traits. The same applies to many other emotional disturbances, Barlaam says (ESS 2.11). Combining these two fourfold divisions together in this way generates a total of sixteen different states of emotional disturbance:

It seems worth noting that the terminological parallels were by no means guaranteed. The medieval Latin translation of Ps.-Andronicus’ De passionibus, attributed to Robert Grosseteste, uses quite different terms to translate the four primary emotions of λύπη, φόβος, ἐπιθυμία, and ἡδονή, namely tristitia, timor, concupiscentia, and delectatio respectively (see Glibert-Thirry 1977, 222). Although Barlaam largely parallels Cicero, one might note his use of timor and delectatio, both used by Grosseteste but not to be found in Cicero. It is tempting to suppose that Barlaam was aware of Cicero’s account in the Tusculanae disputationes, even though that evidently was not his only or even primary source. That should come as no surprise if the ESS was written towards the end of Barlaam’s life, after his time with Petrarch. 52 Note the close parallel between Barlaam’s formulation here in ESS 2.11 (misericordia aegritudo animi ex opinione miseriae alterius iniuria laborantis) and Cicero’s in Tusc. 4.18 (misericordia est aegritudo ex miseria alterius iniuria laborantis). Compare these with the quite different formulation in Seneca, Clem. 2.5.4 (misericordia est aegritudo animi ob alienarum miseriarum speciem aut tristitia ex alienis malis contracta quae accidere immerentibus credit). 51

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Table 5: Both Fourfold Accounts Combined 1.

true opinion

favourable will

false opinion

favourable will

3.

true opinion

harmful will

4.

false opinion

harmful will

5.

true opinion

favourable will

false opinion

favourable will

7.

true opinion

harmful will

8.

false opinion

harmful will

9.

true opinion

favourable will

false opinion

favourable will

11.

true opinion

harmful will

12.

false opinion

harmful will

13.

true opinion

favourable will

false opinion

favourable will

15.

true opinion

harmful will

16.

false opinion

harmful will

2. belief in past or present good

6. belief in future good

10. belief in past or present evil

14. belief in future evil

This evidently takes us well beyond the four states that are familiar from the standard account, yet perhaps it ought not to come as much of a surprise. In the summary account by Arius Didymus, for instance, we are told that some emotions are “primary and fundamental” (πρῶτα καὶ ἀρχηγά), while others are secondary and have reference to these. The four emotions outlined in the standard account are, says Arius, the primary ones and so one ought to expect further subdivisions.53 Arius goes on to list some of the emotions that are subsumed under the four primary types and offers descriptions of them. In order to get a sense of his account, it may be helpful to focus in on just one of the four types.

53

See Ar. Did. in Stobaeus 2,88,12–15 WH (LS 65A, Pomeroy 1999, 56).

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Arius reports that under the primary emotion of fear (φόβος) there are subsumed the secondary emotions of hesitancy, anguish, astonishment, shame, commotion, superstition, dread, and terror.54 He goes on to give a brief description of each of these secondary emotions: Hesitancy is fear about a future activity. Anguish is fear of failure and, in another sense, fear of defeat. Astonishment is fear arising from an unaccustomed impression. Shame is fear of loss of reputation. Commotion is fear together with noise urging us on. Superstition is fear of the gods or spirits. Dread is fear of the terrible. Terror is fear from reasoning.55

We find similar lists and descriptions of secondary emotions arranged under the primary emotion of fear in Diogenes Laertius and Cicero.56 Despite variations between these three sources regarding which emotions they describe, they all broadly take the same form.57 The important point to note in the present context is that none of these ancient lists attempt to differentiate between these secondary emotions with reference to opinion and will in the way that Barlaam’s combined account does. If Barlaam’s account genuinely reflects some aspect of ancient Stoic thinking that is otherwise lost to us, then it seems to be reporting something quite distinct from what all the extant ancient sources recount. Barlaam himself resists listing secondary emotions in the way that the ancient sources do, simply saying “there are many and various species of each genus, which it is not necessary to discuss in the present work” (ESS 2.11). This comment might be taken to imply that he was familiar with at least one of the ancient lists. However, he does mention a few secondary emotions as examples of ones that cannot be varied according to his first fourfold division in the way that his earlier example of mercy (misericordia) could be. These occur, he says, in those who combine mental darkness with false opinion and a harmful will. As it happens, he does not mention any under the genus of fear (metus), but under distress (aegritudo) he mentions envy (invidentia) and jealousy (obtrectatio); under pleasure (laetitia) he notes spite (malivolentia), boasting (iactatio), and pride (superbia); and under desire (libido) he includes enmity (inimicitia) and discord (discordia). These emotions, he says, always proceed

Ar. Did. in Stobaeus 2,91,5–7 WH. I follow Pomeroy’s translation of the various names here (1999, 61). 55 Ar. Did. in Stobaeus 2,92,1–6 WH (SVF 3.408, trans. Pomeroy 1999, 61). 56 See Diog. Laert. 7.112–113 (SVF 3.407) and Cicero, Tusc. 4.19 (SVF 3.410). A fourth list, less significant but worth noting, is in Ps.-Andronicus, De passionibus 3 (SVF 3.409). For discussion of these lists, see Giusta 1964–1967, ii, 253–255; Graver 2007, 55–59. As Graver notes, “no two surviving lists are quite alike in the number and names of the emotions included” (ibid. 55). 57 For discussion, see Graver 2002, 142–145, who notes that around half of Cicero’s list corresponds to the other sources in Greek, the rest reflecting differences. There is, as Graver notes, no need to assume that any of these lists is supposed to be exhaustive. 54

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from a false opinion and a harmful will. Although Barlaam does not spell out the details, his examples seem to fit well in the context of his model. For instance, the emotions of envy and jealousy sound as if they would require a harmful will as a precondition. Almost all of these secondary emotions mentioned by Barlaam feature in the fuller list that we find in Cicero’s Tusculanae disputationes.58 There is, then, common ground between Barlaam and the ancient lists. However, all of the ancient lists that survive differ from one another and none of them are especially organized or claim to be complete. Although they offer definitions of each secondary emotion, none of them give a systematic account of how they differ from one another. Barlaam’s model looks to offer precisely that. But with only partial and incomplete summaries to compare it against, it is difficult to assess how plausible it is that Barlaam’s model reflects ancient Stoic material.

7. Constantia and εὐπάθειαι (ESS 2.12) Earlier in Book 2, Barlaam had defined constantia as the ideal state that arises when all three positive traits – true opinion, mental evenness, and a favourable will – are present.59 This, as was noted earlier, seems to be quite different from the sense in which Cicero used constantia when he offered it as a translation for εὐπάθεια in the Tusculanae disputationes. On his account there, there are three types of constantiae, namely gaudium (joy), voluntas (wishing), and cautio (caution).60 Our Greek sources name these three states χαρά, βούλησις, and εὐλάβεια respectively.61 Instead, Barlaam – it was suggested – was probably using constantia in the sense used by Seneca (and Cicero in other contexts) to refer to a virtuous mental state, namely having a consistent and unwavering mind. Now, however, in the light of his incorporation of the standard account into his discussion, Barlaam suggests that constantia will vary according to how it relates to “the temporal variety of goods and evils”, namely whether something good or bad is past, present, or future (ESS 2.12). This suggests that Barlaam is using constantia in a way that shares something in common with Cicero’s use of the term when translating εὐπάθεια, for the εὐπάθειαι also vary in

See Cicero, Tusc. 4.16. The only emotion mentioned by Barlaam not in Cicero’s list is superbia, but Cicero’s list of secondary emotions under the genus of pleasure ends with “et similia” and so does not claim to be complete. 59 See ESS 2.5, discussed at 172 above. 60 See Cicero, Tusc. 4.12–13 (SVF 3.438). 61 See e.g. Diog. Laert. 7.116 (SVF 3.431). Cicero himself confirms one of these when he notes that he is using voluntas to translate βούλησις (Tusc. 4.12). On εὐπάθειαι in Stoic ethical doxography, see Giusta 1964–1967, ii, 277–283. 58

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precisely this way. According to the standard account the three εὐπάθειαι come about in the following way: joy (χαρά, gaudium) is a rational elation prompted by the presence of something good; caution (εὐλάβεια, cautio) is a rational avoidance prompted by the anticipation of something bad; wishing (βούλησις, voluntas) is a rational appetite prompted by the anticipation of something good.62 Thus, εὐπάθεια – or constantia as Cicero translates it – varies according to the temporal variety of goods and evils, just as Barlaam states. The parallels become even clearer when we attend to the terminology used by both Barlaam and Cicero: Table 6: Good Emotions in Cicero and Barlaam (past-)present good

Cicero gaudium

Barlaam gaudium placabilitas contentio

future good

voluntas (βούλησις)

voluntas

(past-)present evil

future evil

poenitentia ira misericordia patientia cautio

cautio

It seems clear, then, that Barlaam is using constantia in the sense that Cicero does to refer to εὐπάθειαι. But he is also defining it as a combination of the three positive traits: true opinion, mental evenness, and favourable will. One might say that to be in a state of constantia is, as Seneca describes, to be in an ideal state of steadfastness and consistency. As a virtuous state, it is not one that can vary in degree,63 but it can vary in type, as outlined above. The one striking difference between the accounts of Cicero and Barlaam is, of course, that Cicero lists only three εὐπάθειαι whereas Barlaam lists four. Cicero is in line here with the standard account. The usual explanation for why there is no fourth εὐπάθεια is that, in so far as these are experienced by a sage, there is never a situation in which a sage directly experiences anything genuinely evil. They have no evil within themselves, being virtuous, and they judge no experience or object to be evil because they know that, however unpleasant

See again Cicero, Tusc. 4.12–13 and Diog. Laert. 7.116. 63 On virtue as a διάθεσις that cannot vary in degree, see e.g. Diog. Laert. 7.127 (LS 61I); Simplicius, in Cat. 237,25–238,1 (SVF 2.393, LS 47S), with discussion in Jedan 2009, 58– 65. Note also Seneca, Ep. 71.20 and 66.8. 62

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it may be, at worst it is merely a ‘non-preferred indifferent’ (ἀποπροημένον ἀδιάφορον).64 As Cicero put it, “the sage is not affected by present evil”.65 In Barlaam’s account, however, we are dealing with a category that covers not just present evils but both past and present evils. While the ideal sage may be free of evil right now, there was presumably a time when they had not reached this level of moral perfection. Such a person might reflect back on the past at their own previous non-virtuous behaviour and feel a sense of shame or regret for these past actions. Barlaam says that in such circumstances the sage will experience the emotion of regret (poenitentia). This will be a εὐπάθεια or ‘good emotion’ because it will be a rational response to the circumstances. In other words, the sage ought to feel regret for past indiscretions before they attained wisdom. At first glance this might seem to contradict the ancient sources. Arius Didymus reports that it will be the non-sage who will experience regret (μεταμέλεια), which he defines as “distress (λύπη) at things that have been done, as having been done wrongly by oneself ”,66 while Seneca states that the sage “never experiences regret (paenitentia), because nothing better could have been done at that time than what was done”.67 There is no reason in principle why these two statements might not be reconciled with what Barlaam says, for he is considering the special case of a sage reflecting on their earlier actions as a non-sage. But one could certainly imagine Seneca coming back and arguing that, even in this scenario, whatever was done seemed to be the best thing to do at the time, even if the decision was compromised by a lack of knowledge or understanding. After all, the Stoics were committed to the Socratic claim that wrongdoing is the product of ignorance. A sage who fully understands this, it might be argued, should have no grounds to feel regret for past mistakes, especially given that, with the various causes at play in that moment, they could not have acted other than they did. Barlaam mentions two further ‘good emotions’ that fall into this category of responses to past or present evils. The first is pity (misericordia), which he defines as a response to “past or present evils [that have] happened to others who either have suffered or are suffering”.68 It is worth noting here that

For a recent discussion, see Reed 2017. 65 Cicero, Tusc. 4.14: praesentis autem mali sapientis adfectio nulla est. 66 Ar. Did. in Stobaeus 11i, 2,102,25–26 WH (SVF 3.563, trans. Pomeroy 1999, 79, modified). 67 Seneca, Ben. 4.34.4 (SVF 3.565). 68 ESS 2.12: mala praeterita vel praesentia aliis evenerunt et passi fuerunt vel patiuntur. Compare this with his earlier definition of the same at ESS 2.11: misericordia aegritudo animi ex opinione miseriae alterius iniuria laborantis. This earlier definition is very close to standard Stoic definitions of misericordia (and its Greek equivalent ἔλεος) in Cicero, Tusc. 3.21; 4.18; Seneca, Clem. 2.5.4; Ar. Did. in Stobaeus 10c, 2,92,12–13 WH; Diog. Laert. 7.111. 64

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Barlaam explicitly states that this can apply in both the past and the present. Thus, his claim is that it is perfectly rational for a sage to feel pity at the plight of others. This is seemingly in direct contradiction to ancient reports of the Stoic position, which consistently classify pity (misericordia, ἔλεος) as a species of distress (aegritudo, λύπη), one of the four primary categories of emotional disturbance to be avoided.69 Indeed, Cicero states explicitly that the sage will not feel pity, precisely because it is a species of distress,70 while Seneca offers an extended polemic against pity, arguing that a sage is perfectly capable of offering assistance to fellow humans in need without having to experience this species of emotional distress.71 The second is – even more unexpectedly – anger (ira), which Barlaam defines as a response to evils done by another in the past. Here there is no explicit mention of the present. What this seems to imply is that although it would be inappropriate for a sage to become angry in the present moment, there is room for some form of what one might call righteous anger over past injustices perpetrated by others. In both cases these look like significant departures from what one would expect in an account of the Stoic view of emotional disturbances. Barlaam often makes use of multiple names when discussing emotional states. In his account of joy (gaudium), for instance, he also mentions placability (placabilitas) and contentment (contentio). Cicero only mentions gaudium, but Diogenes Laertius reports that this is merely the top category, so to speak, and under it fall a number of subordinate emotions.72 Under joy (χαρά), he says, fall the emotions of delight (τέρψις), gladness (εὐφροσύνη), and cheerfulness (εὐθυμία). Our other key source, Arius Didymus, lists εὐφροσύνη alongside χαρά.73 Although it may be difficult to point to any clear correlation here, it is evident that the Stoics classified a number of different positive emotional states under the three principal εὐπάθειαι , just as they did with the four primary genera of emotional disturbances. The compressed lists that are reported in Diogenes Laertius and Arius Didymus do not give a full account of how the various subordinate emotions were distinguished from one another. Evidently much of the detail of the Stoic account has been lost. What we get in Barlaam is an

See e.g. Cicero, Tusc. 4.16; Ar. Did. in Stobaeus 10b, 2,91,8–9 WH; Diog. Laert. 7.111. 70 See Cicero, Tusc. 3.21: “Anyone who is subject to pity will also be subject to envy. But the sage is not subject to envy; therefore, he is not capable of pity either. If the sage had a tendency to be distressed, he would also have a tendency to feel pity” (trans. Graver 2002, modified). 71 See Seneca, Clem. 2.5.2–2.6.4. 72 See Diog. Laert. 7.116, where he calls the three εὐπάθειαι the “primary good emotions” (τας πρώτας εὐπαθείας). 73 Ar. Did. in Stobaeus 5b, 2,58,8 WH (Pomeroy 1999, 10) and 5c, 2,69,3 WH (Pomeroy 1999, 28). 69

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account – claiming to derive from the works of the Stoic themselves – that offers a way to make at least some distinctions within the various genera.

8. The Full Account (ESS 2.13) Having explained these different types of emotional disturbances (perturbationes) and good emotions (constantiae), Barlaam’s next move is to set out his entire account. He does this in ESS 2.13, which is by far the longest chapter in Book 2. For any given emotion (passio) there will be five degrees, he says – four degrees of emotional disturbance (perturbatio) and one degree of good emotion (constantia).74 Table 7: Five Types of Emotion Constantia: first degree

mental evenness

true opinion

favourable will

Perturbationes: second degree third degree fourth degree fifth degree

mental darkness mental darkness mental darkness mental darkness

true opinion false opinion true opinion false opinion

favourable will favourable will harmful will harmful will

The other three states mentioned earlier by Barlaam – malice, insanity, and simplicity – are, he says, far worse than being in a state of emotional disturbance. Someone not hampered in their judgement by the mental fog of an emotion who still has false opinions or – worse – a harmful will, will have less excuse for their poor behaviour. The person who is calmly malevolent is clearly worse morally than someone who lashes out in a temporary fit of anger. The worst thing, Barlaam’s ordering of these states assumes, is to have a harmful will, namely deeply ingrained bad habits. These persist over time in a way that being overcome by an emotional disturbance does not. Seneca described anger (and, by extension, all emotional disturbances) as a “temporary madness”.75 For Barlaam, an ingrained malevolent disposition is akin to permanent madness. On his account, emotional disturbance is certainly not the worst state in which one can be. With that said, we can now set out all eight mental states in order:

Towards the end of ESS 2.13 Barlaam explains his use of these terms: Itaque si nomine Passionis velimus nominare, tam Constantias, quàm Perturbationes: manifestum quod dicimus Passionum, alias, esse simpliciter bonas; alias, simpliciter malas: Alias, magis bonas, quàm malas; et econverso: alias aequ aliter commixtas. 75 See Seneca, Ira 1.1.2. 74

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Table 8: Eight Types of Emotion 1.

Constantia: first degree

mental evenness

true opinion

favourable will

2. 3. 4. 5.

Perturbationes: second degree third degree fourth degree fifth degree

mental darkness mental darkness mental darkness mental darkness

true opinion false opinion true opinion false opinion

favourable will favourable will harmful will harmful will

6. 7. 8.

Remaining States: simplicity malice insanity

mental evenness mental evenness mental evenness

false opinion true opinion false opinion

favourable will harmful will harmful will

Barlaam does not explicitly label simplicity, malice, and insanity as the sixth, seventh, and eighth grades. Indeed, one might expect simplicity, with two positive traits, to rank higher than those degrees of emotional disturbance that have only one. But he does make a point of saying that all three of these states are worse than emotional disturbance.76 The key point he wants to make is that if one removes mental darkness from someone in the fourth or fifth degree, they will get worse rather than better, falling into malice or insanity. The path to constantia, then, ought to focus its efforts on securing the long-term benefits of good habitual dispositions (i.e. a favourable will) rather than short-term relief from a passing emotional disturbance.

9. Comments on Theophrastus (ESS 2.13–14) Barlaam goes on to make some comments about the views of Theophrastus regarding emotions.77 It has been suggested that Barlaam’s attitude towards Theophrastus is “highly polemical” and therefore his testimony ought to be used with caution.78 With that thought in mind, it has also been suggested that Barlaam’s account of Theophrastus’ view probably came from a hostile Stoic

See ESS 2.13: Primo subtracta Obscuratione mentis, dimittantur in animo Falsum iudicium, et Malefica voluntas: augetur potius malum quàm diminuitur; et animus deterior fit. Exit enim à genere Perturbationum, et incidit in Malitiam Elythiotem et Apheliam, quae in agendis malis multo excellunt Perturbationes et minus sanabiles sunt. 77 The relevant sections of ESS 2.13–14 are thus excerpted in FHSG as text 447. The passage is discussed in Fortenbaugh 2011, 279–283. For a general account of Theophrastus on emotions, see Fortenbaugh 1985a. 78 Fortenbaugh 1985a, 224. 76

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source, perhaps the same source he used for his account of Stoic ethics.79 Whether it is especially polemical is something we can assess in due course. Barlaam suggests that Theophrastus held that it is possible to experience an emotional disturbance even when in a state of constantia – i.e. possessing true opinion, mental evenness, and a favourable will. The signs of such a disturbance can be physically visible, but they do not have the accompanying mental disruption that one usually associates with a mental disturbance proper. Thus, even a sage can experience this kind of disturbance.80 At first glance this seems to share something in common with what the Stoics called ‘first movements’ – sudden physical reactions to circumstances, such as blushing or flinching.81 According to the Stoics, these physical reactions do not count as emotional disturbances proper because they are not the product of value judgements. Perhaps it was something like this that Theophrastus had in mind. In another context it has been suggested that Theophrastus described aspects of rhetorical delivery as πάθη,82 and one might think of acting in this context too. The actor who expresses facial emotion – and perhaps even cries during a performance – does so without making the value judgement that would generate a genuine emotional disturbance. However, in those contexts we are dealing with something deliberate and voluntary. Barlaam goes on to say that what Theophrastus has in mind is something involuntary, akin to hunger and thirst (ESS 2.14). The point that Barlaam wants to make here is the relatively minor one that when Theophrastus talks in this way he is misusing the word perturbatio (i.e. πάθος), or, to put it another way, he uses it equivocally rather than in a precise, technical manner. A genuine emotional disturbance, Barlaam insists, involves

See Fortenbaugh 2011, 280, who writes, “Barlaam is following a Stoic source that reflects a later stage in the controversy between the Stoics and Peripatetics concerning emotional response. Theophrastus has become, as it were, a straw-man, whose view of emotion was characterized by the Stoics in ways favorable to their own position. […] Barlaam is presenting a Stoic version of Theophrastus’ understanding of emotional response.” It is perhaps worth noting that Marcus Aurelius also mentions Theophrastus on the topic of emotion (Ad se ipsum 2.10, FHSG 441). While it is certainly possible that Marcus read Theophrastus himself, he could have been drawing on a Stoic text that commented on Theophrastus’ view. Seneca also engaged with Theophrastus on this topic (Ira 1.12.3; 1.14.1, FHSG 446), although there it seems more likely that Seneca was quoting him directly. 80 However, another source (the Lumen animae, a fourteenth-century compendium attributed to Berengarius de Landora, FHSG 448) claims that Theophrastus held that no passion (passio) can enter the soul of a sage. Fortenbaugh 2011, 283, doubts the reliability of this source, commenting that it attributes to Theophrastus a Stoic view that is “incompatible with Theophrastean doctrine”. 81 On Stoic ‘first movements’, see Seneca, Ira 2.2.4–2.3.5, with discussion in Sorabji 2000, 66–75. Seneca uses a number of formulations to capture the idea, including primus motus and praeparatio adfectus (Ira 2.4.1). Later Greek sources used the term προπάθεια, ‘pre-emotion’. See further Graver 2007, 85–108. 82 See Fortenbaugh 1985a, 224, and, at greater length, Fortenbaugh 1985b. 79

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the disturbance of the mind, brought on by a value judgement, and cannot be purely or merely physical. Thus, the sudden blushing or flinching of a ‘first movement’ (if this is the sort of thing that Theophrastus had in mind) does not count as an emotional disturbance and although one might call them that in colloquial language, if we want to be philosophically precise then we ought not to do so. So, although Theophrastus’ claim that the sage can experience πάθη might appear to be an objection to the Stoic view, in fact it is not because the the ‘πάθη’ that he has in mind are purely physical and not dependent on value judgements.83 As such, they fail the Stoic test of what counts as a genuine emotional disturbance. One could argue that Theophrastus failed to work with a clear definition of emotional disturbance, and commentators have noted that he probably never had a general definition in view.84 There are perhaps two ways in which one might read Barlaam’s response to Theophrastus. The first is simply as a reply to an objection to the Stoic view, either explicitly made by him or put forward by a later critic on the basis of his account. The second is the same but with the conciliatory addition that the dispute is merely a matter of words and nothing more. As Barlaam puts it, “these things are not really opposed to our arguments” (ESS 2.13), adding a little later that “Theophrastus differs from the Stoics only verbally” (ESS 2.14). In either case, there do not seem to be grounds to suggest that Barlaam is being especially polemical towards Theophrastus. What he says may of course misrepresent Theophrastus’ own views in some respects but if that is the case it seems likely merely to reflect the limitations of Barlaam’s own source of information rather than any great hostility on Barlaam’s part. Either way, it is clear that – in a very Stoic spirit – terminological precision is important to Barlaam. He suggests that these purely physical ‘πάθη’ described by Theophrastus should be called ‘commotions’ (commotiones) instead.85 But one could also imagine a Stoic identifying them with ‘first movements’.

On πάθη without beliefs in Theophrastus, see Fortenbaugh 1985a, 224. In a couple of other sources (FHSG 440A–C) Theophrastus is reported as holding that the soul suffers due to the body, experiencing πάθη without making any contribution of its own. For commentary on these sources, see Fortenbaugh 2011, 257–260. 84 See Fortenbaugh 1985a, 226, who argues that neither Theophrastus nor Aristotle are likely to have offered a general definition, “for they had investigated many different kinds of pathê – hate, laughter, and appetite, as well as anger and fear – and as a result had come to realize that there is no one set of features that is shared by all pathê and constitutes a general definition of pathos”. 85 Fortenbaugh 2011, 280–281, takes Barlaam’s use of commotio as evidence for the claim that this reflects some later Stoic report of Theophrastus and not a direct engagement with Theophrastus himself. But Barlaam has already been clear that this is his word to describe a certain type of disturbance that Theophrastus himself (erroneously, from a Stoic 83

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10. Overcoming Emotional Disturbances (ESS 2.15–16) Although Barlaam’s response to Theophrastus is not especially hostile, Barlaam clearly prefers the Stoic position over the Peripatetic alternative when it comes to thinking about emotions. This is consistent with his earlier defence of the Stoic account of value against the Aristotelian alternative in Book 1 of ESS.86 This continues in the closing chapters of Book 2 where he rejects the Aristotelian view that one ought merely to moderate emotions rather than remove them completely: It is plain that it [disturbance] must not simply be cut back or moderated, but completely avoided. For we rightly seek the mean in things where both extremes – excess and defect – must be blamed. But to be free from disturbance, and by no means to leave constancy, and to retain mental sharpness is worthy of great praise. So our effort must not be directed to cutting off disturbances, but to completing their extirpation.87

It is, of course, the Aristotelian doctrine of μετριοπάθεια that Barlaam challenges here. In the Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle famously suggests that virtues fall in the middle between two extremes: courage, for example, is the sensible mean standing in between the opposed vices of cowardice and rashness.88 Aristotle also claims that this applies to emotional responses. It is possible, he says, to feel too much or too little fear or anger or pity.89 In the case of anger, he adds a little later, there is an excess, deficiency, and a mean.90 Stoics such as Seneca responded to this idea of moderating emotions like anger by arguing that all anger is bad, even moderate, proportionate anger.91 If, as Seneca argued, anger is a “temporary madness”,92 who would want to embrace moderate insanity? Anger is by nature something that can run out of control and so even a moderate amount may be difficult to constrain.93 The best course of action, then, Seneca argues, is to avoid it altogether.94 Whatever

point of view) called perturbatio. Cicero had used commotio to characterize πάθος in Tusc. 4.11. 86 For full discussion, see Hogg’s essay in this volume, 95–163 above. 87 ESS 2.15: manifestum est, quòd non est resecanda vel moderanda: sed penitus evellenda. Nam in illis recte mediocritas queritur; in quibus utrumque vituperandum est, et nimis abundare, et penitus carere. Sed Perturbatione vacare et minime à Constantia egredi, et acumen mentis illesum conservare: magnae laudi dandum est. Conatus ergo noster, non ad amputandam perturbationem; sed omnino exterpandam dirigendus est. 88 See Aristotle, EN 2.6–7, with courage mentioned at 2.7, 1107a33–b4. 89 See Aristotle, EN 2.6, 1106b18–21. 90 See Aristotle, EN 2.7, 1108a4–5. 91 See, for instance, Seneca, Ira 1.10.4, where he says that moderate emotion is nothing other than moderate evil (modicus affectus nihil aluid quam malum modicum est). 92 Seneca, Ira 1.1.2; note also Ep. 18.14–15. 93 See Seneca, Ira 1.7.2. 94 See Seneca, Ira 1.8.1

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Aristotle thought he was talking about when he referred to moderate anger was clearly something else, given that anger is simply not the sort of thing that can be constrained or controlled.95 Barlaam clearly has this sort of Stoic thinking in mind here. It is perhaps worth noting, though, that Barlaam is not ideologically opposed to Aristotelian ideas.96 He appears to be open to the claim that virtues can fall in the middle between two extreme vices. His reservations are with the application of that model to emotional disturbances. Having insisted that one should avoid all emotional disturbances rather than merely moderate them, Barlaam concludes by arguing that this is indeed possible to achieve. Such disturbances are the product of false opinions, themselves the product of mistaken value judgements, such as judging that something not good is a good (ESS 2.16). Since those value judgements are within one’s control, it is indeed possible to avoid emotional disturbances altogether. Like Seneca, Barlaam holds that this is an unambiguously good thing to do.

See Seneca, Ira 1.9.3. 96 As noted in the Introduction, 7–8 above, Barlaam had a thorough grasp of Aristotelian logic. 95

The Reception of Stoic Ethics in the Middle Ages John Sellars The aim of this essay is to put Barlaam’s ESS into a wider context by outlining the reception of Stoic ethics from late antiquity, through the Middle Ages, to the fourteenth century.1 Inevitably it is only a sketch of a rich and complex topic.

1. Stoic Ethics in Late Antiquity Stoicism had flourished as a school of thought during the first two centuries of the Roman Empire. During the second century AD a wide range of readers were engaging with the works of Chrysippus – Plutarch, Galen, Aulus Gellius – and Stoicism found one its most famous adherents in the emperor Marcus Aurelius. Although Marcus is often seen as a last, lone expression of ancient Stoicism, in fact it looks as if he was by no means alone in his interest in Stoic thought during this period.2 Stoic ideas evidently remained an important point of reference for authors such as Alexander of Aphrodisias and Plotinus in the third century, but there is little in the way of surviving evidence for any active adherents – people were still discussing Stoic ideas but there do not appear to have been many selfidentifying Stoics. The reasons for this are far from clear: it has sometimes been suggested that Stoicism was eclipsed by the rising stars of Neoplatonism and Christianity. While there were substantial philosophical differences between these schools of thought, for a lay practitioner it may have seemed that there was a good deal of common ground, such as a focus on developing a virtuous character and a certain indifference towards worldly success. Indeed,

Existing studies of Stoic reception in the Middle Ages include Spanneut 1957, Verbeke 1983, Lapidge 1988, Colish 1990, Ebbesen 2004, Ingham 2007, Bray 2018, and a number of chapters in Sellars 2016. 2 See further Sellars 2021, 10–11. 1

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one commentator has described St Paul as little more than a “crypto-Stoic ethicist”.3 The sense that there was some common ground, especially in the realm of ethics, was no doubt fundamental for the subsequent reception of Stoic ideas in the Christian Middle Ages. In the Latin West, the primary sources of information for Stoicism – and indeed for ethics in general – were the works of Seneca and Cicero.4 Seneca appears to have been widely read by the Latin church fathers.5 Famously, Tertullian described him as “our Seneca” and this has often been taken to imply that he saw Seneca as either a Christian or at least an ally.6 Whether Tertullian intended it in that sense is another matter; its effect on subsequent Christian readers was to legitimize Seneca as a respectable author, despite being a pagan. Seneca’s standing was further bolstered by the existence of a series of letters purportedly between him and St Paul.7 In his brief biography of Seneca in his De viris illustribus, St Jerome effectively affirmed the authenticity of these letters and, on that basis, counted Seneca as an honorary saint.8 He commented that “I would not have placed him in my catalogue of the holy, had I not been moved by those letters of Paul to Seneca and Seneca to Paul”,9 and went on to draw a parallel between Seneca’s death on the orders of Nero and the martyrdoms of St Peter and St Paul. Although the authenticity of the correspondence is now rejected, it was not beyond the bounds of possibility: Seneca and Paul were almost exact contemporaries and Seneca’s elder brother, M. Annaeus Novatus (later adopting the name Gallio), was the governor of Achaia, where Paul was brought before him.10 Elsewhere, Jerome noted that the Stoics “agree with our teachings in many respects”, especially in calling “nothing good except uprightness and virtue alone and nothing evil except vice”.11 Other texts circulated under Seneca’s name that were not by him, such as Martin of Braga’s Formula vitae honestae on the four cardinal virtues,

Ebbesen 2004, 108. On St Paul’s relationship with Stoicism, see further Engberg-Pedersen 2000, 2004, and 2016, in which it is argued that Paul used Stoic concepts to help him articulate his Christian message (2004, 73). 4 So Nelson 1933, 59. 5 On Seneca’s reception among the church fathers and into the Middle Ages, see Ross 1974, 122–140; Trovato 2005, 109–150; Ker 2009, 181–197; also Reynolds 1965 and 1968. 6 See Tertullian, De anima 20 (PL ii, 682), with Ross 1974, 126 and Ker 2009, 181. 7 For a critical edition, see Barlow 1938; they are also printed in Haase 1895, iii, 476– 481. 8 See Jerome, De viris illustribus 12 (PL xxiii, 629), with discussion in Ker 2009, 182– 185. 9 See ibid.; the translation follows Ker 2009, 182–183. 10 See Acts 18:12–17. For further discussion see Barlow 1938, 1–7; Sevenster 1961, 6– 9. 11 Jerome, in Isaiam 4.11 (PL xxiv, 147), translated in Colish 1990, ii, 76. 3

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although it has been suggested that this may have been based on a lost work by Seneca and so broadly representative of his thought.12 Seneca would go on to be seen as the greatest of the Stoics by readers throughout the Middle Ages and early Renaissance, as well as being their main source of information for Stoic doctrines. In the early fourth century Lactantius called him “the sharpest of all the Stoics”;13 in the twelfth century Peter Abelard called him “the greatest teacher of morals”.14 The other key source of information for Latin readers were the philosophical works of Cicero. The most Stoic of these works, the De officiis (partly based on a lost work by the Stoic Panaetius), was especially influential.15 In the fourth century, St Ambrose wrote his own De officiis closely based on Cicero’s work.16 Through this work a number of core Stoic ethical ideas circulated thirdhand without attribution, under the authority of a church father. Ambrose’s most famous pupil, Augustine, was also a keen reader of Cicero’s philosophical works and their influence can be seen in his early dialogues written at Cassiciacum.17 Through works such as the Academica, Augustine was able to gain detailed information about Stoic doctrine. He also read Seneca, who is discussed in his later De civitate Dei.18 Augustine’s relationship with Stoicism was highly complex. One view holds that he was influenced by Stoic ethics in his early works but later became more critical of Stoic ideas.19 A slightly different view holds that Augustine drew upon not only Stoic ethics but also on aspects of their logic and physics, and did so to varying degrees throughout his work.20 One of the challenges, it has been suggested, is that Augustine was quick to label a Stoic doctrine as Stoic when he disagreed with it, but tended

Martin’s text is in PL lxxii, 21–28; translation in Barlow 1969, 87–97. For discussion see Barlow 1969, 11–13; Verbeke 1983, 13–14; Trovato 2005, 109–117. For the text of the Pseudo-Senecan version, see Haase 1895, iii, 468–475. 13 Lactantius, Div. inst. 2.8.23 (PL vi, 299): omnium Stoicorum acutissimus. 14 See n. 40 below. 15 See Nelson 1933 for its influence throughout the Middle Ages. 16 Text and translation in Davidson 2001 (also PL xvi, 23–184), who argues for the title De officiis in preference over De officiis ministrorum by which it is also often referred. For further discussion see Nelson 1933, 69–75. 17 See his Contra academicos, De beata vita, De ordine, and Soliloquia (all in PL xxxii, 869–1020; the first three are now critically edited in Fuhrer and Adam 2017). 18 See esp. De civ. D. 5.8 (SVF 2.932), where he discusses the Stoic doctrine of fate. On Augustine and Stoicism, see e.g. Verbeke 1958; Colish 1990, ii, 142–238; Wetzel 1992, 98– 106; Kent 1995, 206–212; Byers 2016; Bray 2018, 11–35. 19 See Augustine, Sermones 150 and Retractationes 1.1–2. 20 As just one example, in De civ. D. 5.8 Augustine defends the Stoics against charges of necessitarianism by showing that when they talk about fate what they really mean is the will of God. Yet in the following chapter he ultimately opts for the Neoplatonic view that the will of God (i.e. providence) ought to be placed above fate in a clear hierarchy. 12

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silently to adopt other Stoic ideas that he found congenial.21 Augustine’s discussions of Stoicism are especially important in the present context because they would go on to be so influential for subsequent generations. Indeed, for many later readers, Augustine’s comments about Stoicism, especially in his De civitate Dei, would prove to be not only a key source of information but also an authoritative assessment. Unfortunately those assessments were not always fair. To give one famous example, in De civitate Dei 19.4 Augustine criticized the Stoics for holding that it was acceptable for a sage to commit suicide in the face of unbearable adversity. Strictly speaking this ought not to be the Stoic view, given that external states of affairs are neither good nor bad in themselves and any unpleasant situation would be classified as merely a ‘non-preferred indifferent’. Augustine was not unaware of this; indeed, he mentioned it in the same passage in order to argue that the Stoics were inconsistent. But this misrepresents the Stoic position which held that only a situation where an individual’s virtue is under threat – such as Cato in Utica – could possibly be appropriate grounds for taking one’s own life. Even so, Augustine’s portrayal of the Stoic attitude to suicide and its alleged inconsistency with their wider ethics would prove to be highly influential. There were other issues where Augustine, especially in his later works, came to be critical of the Stoics. The first of these concerned the possibility of moral perfection. While the early Augustine was broadly in line with the Stoics in holding that perfect virtue was possible in this life, he later came to doubt this, holding that only in the next life is it possible to achieve perfect virtue.22 A second issue was the question of the autonomy of virtue. The early Augustine was again close to the Stoa in holding that virtue and happiness are solely dependent on the state of one’s mind and so within one’s control, but he later rejected this view.23 True happiness, Augustine held, requires immortality.24 A third issue concerned the emotions. On the one hand, Augustine agreed with the Stoics in conceiving emotions as mistaken judgements of the mind rather than elements of the body,25 but he ultimately rejected the Stoic notion of ἀπάθεια in favour of Aristotelian μετριοπάθεια. Although at one point he had argued that the distance between the Stoic and Aristotelian positions was not so great (De civ. D. 9.4), he also attacked the Stoic view because he came to see some emotions in a more positive light – love, for example – and it contradicted the biblical stories of the emotions of Jesus and St Paul (De civ. D. 14.9). Ultimately, he came to the view that the Stoic ideal of ἀπάθεια would rule out the love of God.

See Kent 1995, 206. 22 Compare Contra academicos 1.2.5 with Retractationes 1.2 and 1.6.5. 23 See Retractationes 1.2 and 1.6.5; Sermones 150.8. 24 See Sermones 150.10; De trinitate 13.8.11. 25 See De immortalitate animae 5.7. 21

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It was, unsurprisingly, the nature of the relationship between the individual and God that shaped Augustine’s attitude towards Stoicism. The Stoics had claimed that through the power of reason alone it was possible to become completely free, autonomous, and happy. Augustine came to the view that such a claim was the height of arrogance; for him, individuals are dependent on God’s grace for virtue and happiness.26 However, although the mature Augustine found much to criticize in Stoicism, his works nevertheless became an important source of information, not all of his comments were critical, and later readers could easily quote selectively in order to make it appear that Augustine endorsed some Stoic views.27

2. Stoicism in Byzantium In the Greek-speaking eastern Mediterranean, Epictetus continued to attract readers. In the sixth century the Neoplatonic philosopher Simplicius – remembered for his commentaries on Aristotle – also wrote a commentary on the Enchiridion, presenting it not as work of doctrinal Stoicism but instead as a generic guide to ethics that would be useful for beginning students in philosophy before they embarked on a Neoplatonic curriculum based on the study of texts by Aristotle and Plato.28 Writing around the same time, another Neoplatonist, Damascius, mentioned someone whom he described as being influenced by “the school of Epictetus”.29 The Neoplatonist Olympiodorus also made use of Epictetus in his commentary on Plato’s Gorgias.30 Simplicius often refers to other Stoic material in his commentaries on Aristotle but it is usually thought that he took this information from earlier commentaries on Aristotle, now lost, rather than directly from Stoic texts. For example, much of the material in his commentary on Aristotle’s Categories is thought to have come from the Porphyry’s now lost long commentary on that work. The canonical Stoic works by Chrysippus were unlikely still to have been available in the sixth century. Epictetus continued to attract readers into the Byzantine period. In the ninth century Arethas of Caesarea owned a copy of the Dissertationes.31 He also had an elderly copy of the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius, which he had copied, passing on the older one to a friend.32 In the ninth century the Suda lexicon also

See Retractationes 1.1.2 and 1.8.4; Sermones 150.8. 27 For example, the account of Stoic emotions in Book 9 of De civitate Dei is more sympathetic than the one in Book 14. 28 For a thorough introduction and critical edition of the text, see Hadot 1996. 29 See Damascius’ Philosophical History 46D, in Athanassiadi 1999, 136–137. 30 See Olympiodorus, in Gorgiam 17, translated in Jackson et al. 1998, 146–149. 31 See Wilson 1996, 127. 32 See Arethas, Ep. 44 (Westerink 1968–1972, i, 305). 26

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mentioned the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius as well as Epictetus.33 Photius reports eight books of lectures by Epictetus, double the four that survive today.34 Adaptations of the Enchiridion were made for use in monasteries and three different Christian adaptations survive. In one of these, references by Epictetus to Socrates are replaced by references to St Paul.35 In Byzantium there are few other references to Stoic material. Excerpts from the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius circulated. Other Greek texts that survive today were presumably available, such as the Vitae philosophorum of Diogenes Laertius, and these would have given access to information about Stoic doctrine.

3. The Latin Middle Ages In Western Europe, the situation was quite different. Around the same time that Simplicius was commenting on Epictetus, another philosopher influenced by Neoplatonism was also engaging with Stoic ideas. This was Boethius, whose De consolatione philosophiae engaged with Stoic ideas about autonomy, fate, and fortune.36 Although Boethius, like Simplicius, was ultimately committed to the philosophies of Plato and Aristotle, he also drew on Stoic ideas that he found helpful when confronting adversity. In Book 2 of De consolatione he argued, following the Stoics, that external things have no inherent value. Not only are these things not good, they never truly belong to the individual, for they can be taken away by fortune at any moment. Real goods never harm their owner, yet “riches have often harmed their possessors” when the owner in question is without virtue (Cons. 2.5). Echoing Marcus Aurelius (although unlikely to have been influenced by him), Boethius comments on the emptiness of fame and reputation by locating human life within a much broader perspective: the earth is but a point within the cosmos, and the area of earth inhabited by people is itself only a tiny fraction. “What grandeur or magnificence can glory have, contracted within such small and narrow limits?” (Cons. 2.7) Boethius also repeats themes from Seneca, such as the claim that bad fortune is

See Suda A3868 (Adler 1928–38, i, 350) and E2424 (ibid. ii, 365–366) on Epictetus; Marcus Aurelius is quoted a number of times, e.g. A830 (ibid. i, 77); A835 (ibid. i, 78); A1903 (ibid. i, 170); O578 (ibid. iii, 558); P2224 (ibid. iv, 190). 34 See Photius, Bibl. 58 (= test. 6 in Schenkl 1916). 35 For all three adaptations, see Boter 1999. Note also the commentary on one of them edited in Spanneut 2007. In particular, see the Paraphrasis Christiana and compare ch. 69 (Boter 1999, 387) with Ench. 51 (Boter 1999, 337). 36 On Boethius and Stoicism, see e.g. Colish 1990, ii, 266-290; Walz 2016; Bray 2018, 53–66. 33

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often better for people than good fortune (Cons. 2.8) and that whatever happens ought to be seen as training good people and correcting bad ones (Cons. 4.7).37 Boethius would have been drawing on Latin sources, notably Cicero, but as we have seen there are echoes of Seneca in De consolatione too. As we have already noted, Seneca and Cicero would become key sources for information about Stoicism, along with a number of Latin authors from late antiquity, including Calcidius, Augustine, and Boethius himself.

4. The Twelfth Century: Peter Abelard and William of Conches While many authors in the early medieval period touched on Stoic ideas picked up from these sources, one of the most philosophically interesting engagements with Stoicism in this period can be found in the work of Peter Abelard (1079– 1142).38 He has been described as being “as close to Stoicism as a Christian could be”.39 He was certainly an emphatic admirer of Seneca, whom he described as the greatest of the philosophers and the greatest teacher of morals.40 Indeed, his correspondence with Heloise contains a number of quotations from Seneca’s Epistulae morales in letters by both correspondents.41 One of the recurrent themes here is what they both take to be Seneca’s admirable attitude towards poverty and a simple life. While admiring his focus on virtue rather than external temptations such as fine food, Abelard quotes Seneca for the view that this need not entail an excessively austere way of life that neglects the needs of the body.42 As Seneca put it, “philosophy calls for restraint, not punishment”.43 A life in accord with Nature will not deny and torture the body.

Compare with e.g. Seneca, Prov. 3.1 and 2.2 respectively. 38 The bulk of Abelard’s works can be found in PL clxxviii, although more recent editions of individual works exist. For the works discussed here, note Luscombe 1971; Marenbon and Orlandi 2001; Luscombe and Radice 2013. On Abelard and Stoicism, see Normore 2004; Guilfoy 2016; Bray 2018, 71–80; but note also Verbeke 1983, 51–53; Lapidge 1988, 97–99; Ingham 2007, 24–28. 39 Normore 2004, 132. 40 See Abelard, Ep. 1.26 (Luscombe and Radice 2013, 38; PL clxxviii, 131), also known as the Historia calamitatum, and Institutio 96 (Luscombe and Radice 2013, 470; PL clxxviii, 297) respectively. In the latter he calls Seneca summus inter universos philosophos morum edificator. Compare this with Collationes 2.81 (Marenbon and Orlandi 2001, 102; PL clxxviii, 1642), where Seneca is called maximus morum edificator. 41 Beyond the passages mentioned in the previous note, see also Ep. 2.4 (Luscombe and Radice 2013, 124–126; PL clxxviii, 183) and Ep. 4.3 (Luscombe and Radice 2013, 160; PL clxxviii, 193), both by Heloise. 42 See Institutio 96 (Luscombe and Radice 2013, 470; PL clxxviii, 297), quoting Seneca, Ep. 5.4. 43 Seneca, Ep. 5.4: frugalitatem exigit philosophia, non poenam. 37

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Elsewhere Abelard displays a fuller grasp of the central ideas of Stoic ethics. In his Collationes, a pair of dialogues featuring a philosopher in discussion with a Jew and a Christian, the philosopher takes up a number of Stoic claims, including the unity of virtue, that virtue is the highest good, and that it admits of no degrees.44 Here the philosopher draws on accounts by Cicero in De officiis and the Paradoxa Stoicorum and defends the Stoic view against criticisms made by the Christian by pointing to similar statements in the works of Augustine.45 It is difficult to know if either the philosopher or the Christian in the dialogue is expressing Abelard’s own views – Abelard himself was of course both. The philosopher is presented as someone who believes in a single God, though not the same God as either the Jew or the Christian, and as one who is content with natural law rather than the laws recorded in sacred texts. The characters in the dialogue are sometimes quite antagonistic towards each other – at one point the philosopher calls the Christian ‘mad’ – but the general thrust of the dialogue as a whole seems to be to reduce the perceived distance between these Stoic ideas and Christian teaching. In particular, by using Augustine as an authoritative point of reference Abelard tries to present his Stoic-inspired ethics in a way that might make it attractive to a Christian audience. In Abelard’s other great work of ethics, Scito te ipsum, there is a more substantive engagement with Stoic ethics.46 Although the debt is not explicit, the parallels are striking and, when considered within the context of Abelard’s open admiration for Stoic ethics elsewhere, surely reflect his interest in Stoicism. Abelard argues that moral wrongdoing does not reside in actions but instead in the intentions that stand behind them. These intentions are not desires or impulses that someone might have but rather the acceptance of, or consent (consensus) to, those desires.47 Thus, it is not having a lustful desire that is sinful; it is the act of giving consent to that desire. As a number of commentators have noted, this is a clear echo of the Stoic theory of assent (συγκατάθεσις).48 Abelard could in theory have learned about this from Cicero’s Academica, but it has been suggested that it more likely came via Augustine, whom Abelard regularly cites as both an authority and a source of information about ancient philosophy. As Augustine had put it, action adds nothing to the sin of intention, and Abelard cites this very statement.49

See Collationes 2.98 (Marenbon and Orlandi 2001, 114–116; PL clxxviii, 1647). This work is also known by the title Dialogus inter Philosophum, Iudaeum, et Christianum. 45 See Collationes 2.99 (Marenbon and Orlandi 2001, 118; PL clxxviii, 1647–1648). 46 See Luscombe 1971. This work is also known by the title Ethica. 47 See Ethica 12,14–14,3 Luscombe (PL clxxviii, 638–639). 48 See e.g. Verbeke 1983, 51; Lapidge 1988, 98; Ebbesen 2004, 121; Normore 2004, 140; Guilfoy 2016, 91. 49 See Ethica 14,14–24 Luscombe (PL clxxviii, 639), citing Augustine, De libero arbitrio 1.3.8. 44

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Roughly contemporary with Abelard, William of Conches (c. 1080–1154) also displayed a solid knowledge of Stoic ethics in his Moralium dogma philosophorum.50 William was based at the cathedral school in Chartres, which became an important centre of learning in the twelfth century. Like Abelard, William drew on Cicero and Seneca, both of whom are named in the opening paragraph of the Moralium.51 The work draws heavily on Cicero’s De officiis and Seneca’s De beneficiis and Epistulae morales among other sources. None of this material is presented as explicitly Stoic doctrine; William’s treatise is simply a manual of ethics based on the leading ancient authorities of the day.52 William was not the only person at Chartres with an interest in Stoic ideas. His pupil John of Salisbury was both heavily influenced by Cicero and an admirer of Seneca.53 For John, Seneca was “a strong advocate of virtue and a great teacher of morality” whose epigrammatic style also deserved praise for its brevity.54

5. The Thirteenth Century: Roger Bacon and Thomas Aquinas Another author with a deep admiration for Seneca was Roger Bacon (1214/20– 1292), who knew the Epistulae morales, the Dialogi, and the Naturales quaestiones.55 His magnum opus, appropriately entitled Opus maior, is divided into seven parts, encompassing the main branches of human knowledge, and the seventh part is devoted to moral philosophy.56 In the third section of this part Bacon considers virtue and vice, but much of what he includes is taken directly from Seneca. While Aristotle is a regular point of reference, it is the Stoic position that Bacon endorses: “the ancient philosophers uphold virtue as the whole and the only good of man in this life, as Seneca teaches throughout his book On the Happy Life”.57 Bacon supports this by also referring to Cicero’s Tusculanae disputationes and the Paradoxa Stoicorum. He goes on to quote

This is edited in Holmberg 1929. The work was not always, but now generally is, attributed to William. For discussion, see Nelson 1933, 90–98; Verbeke 1983, 48–50. 51 See William of Conches, Moralium dogma philosophorum Prooemium (Holmberg 1929, 5), where Seneca is described as moralitatis eruditor elegantissimus. 52 It is perhaps worth noting that William often illustrates points being made with passages from Horace and Juvenal, both decidedly non-Stoic in outlook. 53 See further Liebeschütz 1950, 82–84; Guilfoy 2016, 93–96; Bray 2018, 81–90. 54 John of Salisbury, Metalogicon 1.22 (Hall 1991, 49; trans. McGarry 1971, 62): multus enim est in laude uirtutis morumque doctrina. 55 On Bacon’s knowledge of Seneca, see Beeson 1923. On Bacon and Stoicism, see Bray 2018, 149–158. 56 Bacon’s Opus maior is edited in Bridges 1900 and translated in Burke 1928. The seventh part on moral philosophy has been edited separately in Massa 1953. 57 Opus maior 7.3.2 (Bridges 1900, ii, 258; trans. Burke 1928, ii, 667) = Moralis philosophia 3.1.2 (Massa 1953, 50); Burke’s translation, lightly modified. 50

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extensively from Seneca’s De ira, followed by material from De clementia, and a number of the Dialogi.58 Indeed, he records so much of Seneca’s text that it has been suggested that his work should be considered an important source for textual critics.59 Bacon himself commented that he recorded more than he was intending because he was carried away by the “beauty and helpfulness of the moral sentiments” that he found in Seneca.60 For Bacon, Seneca was “wisest of men” (sapientissimus) and his admiration for Stoic ideas reported by both Seneca and Cicero is clear.61 However, like others of the period, he combined this with a sincere admiration of Aristotle, whom he described as “the greatest of the philosophers”, as well as drawing on Arabic philosophers Avicenna and Averroes and Platonists such as Apuleius. Aristotle and Seneca were his two main points of reference, often cited side by side.62 During this period, the translation of a wide range of Aristotle’s works into Latin from both Arabic and Greek transformed the philosophical landscape. Quickly Aristotle became the principal point of reference and a core component in the curriculum of the Faculty of Arts in Paris. One of the many philosophers who drew heavily on Aristotle in this period was Thomas Aquinas (1224/5–1274). Yet even in his works, the Stoics often appear and clearly remained a central point of reference in philosophical discussion.63 To give just one example, when discussing the emotions in the Summa theologiae, Thomas compared the Peripatetic view with the Stoic one (I–II q. 24 a. 2), drawing on the account in Cicero’s Tusulanae disputationes.64 Against Cicero, Thomas argued that the Stoics and Peripatetics were not strongly at odds on this issue and, with some interpretation, their positions could be reconciled. He returned to the same issue later on (I–II q. 59 a. 2), this time drawing on the discussion

The extended quotations from Seneca occupy Opus maior 7.3.6–21 (Bridges 1900, ii, 275–365; trans. Burke 1928, ii, 685–786). In Massa’s edition of the Moralis philosophia it is in 3.3–7 (Massa 1953, 72–184). 59 See Beeson 1923. 60 Opus maior 7.4.1 (Bridges 1900, ii, 366; trans. Burke 1928, ii. 787) = Moralis philosophia 4.1 (Massa 1953, 187): pulcritudinem et utilitatem sententiarum moralium. 61 Opus maior 7.3.21 (Bridges 1900, ii, 363; trans. Burke 1928, ii, 784) = Moralis philosophia 3.7.8 (Massa 1953, 181). 62 In his Compendium studii philosophiae (ch. 1), Bacon lists the most admirable pagan philosophers, perhaps implicitly in order of importance: “Aristotle, Seneca, Tully, Avicenna, Alfarabi, Plato, Socrates, and others” (Maloney 2018, 18–19). In his Opus tertium (ch. 14), he lists Aristotle, Seneca, and Cicero as the most important authorities in ethics (Brewer 1859, 50). 63 On Thomas Aquinas and Stoicism, see e.g. Verbeke 1962; Spanneut 1984; Ingham 2016, 108–110. 64 See Cicero, Tusc. 3.22: omne malum, etiam mediocre, malum est. Kent 1995, 207, suggests on the basis of Fin. 5.22 that Cicero argued for agreement between Stoics and Peripatetics. That may be the case for the issue under discussion there, namely value theory, but on the question of emotional disturbances Cicero seems to have taken a different stance. 58

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in Augustine (De civ. D. 9.4), and followed Augustine in again playing down the distance between their positions. The important point in the present context is that Thomas both knew the Stoic position and felt it important enough to discuss directly. Although he was highly critical of some Stoic doctrines, the Stoics remained a key point of reference in philosophical debates and were by no means totally eclipsed by the revival of interest in Aristotle. This has led one commentator to note that “the Stoics are especially important for any study of scholastic ethics”.65

6. The Fourteenth Century: Jean Buridan One last author within the Latin scholastic tradition worth mentioning is Jean Buridan (c. 1300–1361). Buridan was active as a Master of Arts at the University of Paris in the early fourteenth century and Rector of the University of Paris in 1327–28 and 1340.66 He was thus a contemporary of Barlaam and Petrarch. It has been suggested that Barlaam visited Paris after his first visit to Avignon in 1339.67 If that were true, it is conceivable that Barlaam and Buridan could have met, although of course there is no evidence for any such encounter. Putting such speculation aside, Buridan is especially interesting in the present context for his interest in Stoicism and, in particular, Seneca.68 In his question-commentary on Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics,69 Buridan often cites Seneca along with “Tully’s De Paradoxis” (i.e. Cicero’s Paradoxa Stoicorum); indeed, he cites both Seneca and Cicero over one hundred times each.70 He draws mainly on the Epistulae morales but also makes use of Seneca’s essays.71 Buridan’s Seneca is also the author of the De quatuor virtutibus (i.e. Martin of Braga’s Formula vitae honestae).72 For Buridan, Seneca was one of a handful of ancient authorities on ethics, alongside Aristotle, Cicero, and Boethius, and,

Kent 1995, 249. 66 See Klima 2009, 3. 67 See Trizio 2017. 68 On this see Walsh 1966; Ingham 2007, 146–153. 69 Buridan’s commentary, Quaestiones in decem libros Ethicorum Aristotelis ad Nicomachum (hereafter Quaest. in EN), was printed in 1489, 1513, 1518, and 1637; as yet there is no modern critical edition. Buridan’s questions on Book 10 are translated in McGrade et al. 2001, 500–576, based on a revised version of the 1513 text. I have consulted the most recent 1637 edition. 70 See the figures in Walsh 1966, 28, who notes “the predominance of Cicero and Seneca”. 71 See e.g. Quaest. in EN 10.4 (Buridan 1637, 874; trans. McGrade et al. 2001, 552–553), where he cites the De vita beata, and the fuller list of references in Walsh 1966, 29 n. 14. 72 Quaest. in EN 10.4 (Buridan 1637, 867; trans. McGrade et al. 2001, 543). 65

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as others have noted, he is the only author other than Aristotle who is named in the introduction to his commentary.73 Buridan was clearly a fervent admirer of Seneca, then, whom at one point he says “speaks very well and beautifully and piously”.74 Throughout the commentary the most common word Buridan uses to describe Seneca’s writings is pulcher – beautiful, fine, excellent.75 At one point he offers a lengthy defence of Seneca in response to objections, perhaps ones articulated by his students during lectures.76 While acknowledging some of the philosophical differences between Stoic and Aristotelian doctrine, Buridan’s general approach is one of harmonization, highlighting points of agreement between Seneca and Aristotle. He points out issues where he takes the Stoic doctrine to be true, but it is true only in so far as it can be brought into agreement with Aristotle.77 Even so, the overall effect is to stress the ethical value of the works of Seneca to his audience of readers of Aristotle. As to why Buridan might have felt this worth doing, perhaps it is worth noting his repeated characterization of Seneca’s “beautiful” words. As is all too often noted, Aristotle’s prose can be dense and difficult, especially for a beginner, and even ardent admirers are unlikely to describe his writing as attractive. Seneca’s prose, by contrast can be engaging and arresting. If Seneca can be shown to agree with Aristotle on the most important points, then his works might be recommended as a more accessible and inspiring introduction to the study of ethics. Buridan has been described as “one of the great teachers of the later middle ages” whose commentary would have been available “to thousands of students over hundreds of years”.78 His subsequent influence was considerable and the attention he paid to Seneca would have been noticed by a wide audience. As noted earlier, all this was taking place at the same time that both Barlaam and Petrarch were also thinking and writing about Stoic ethics.

7. Petrarch and Stoic Ethics Petrarch is remembered for, among many other things, the rediscovery of ancient texts that had become neglected and forgotten. Perhaps the most famous of his finds was Cicero’s letters to Atticus, which he found in the chapter

See Quaest. in EN Prooemium (Buridan 1637, 1), with Walsh 1966, 26–28. 74 Quaest. in EN 10.4 (Buridan 1637, 873; trans. McGrade et al. 2001, 552). 75 See the list in Walsh 1966, 29 n. 13. The adverb pulchre is most commonly used. 76 Quaest. in EN 10.4 (Buridan 1637, 867–868; trans. McGrade et al. 2001, 543–544). 77 On this, see Walsh 1966, 34, citing Quaest. in EN 2.10 (Buridan 1637, 121). 78 Walsh 1966, 24–25. 73

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library of the cathedral in Verona, in 1345.79 Petrarch would become a devoted admirer of Cicero, although, as a good Christian, his ultimate allegiance was to Augustine, whose Confessiones would remain one of his favourite books.80 He was also an avid reader of Seneca, suggesting at one point that he read Seneca’s works every day.81 Through all three of these Latin authors Petrarch became familiar with a wide range of Stoic ethical material. Yet as we have seen, the key sources for Stoicism on which he drew were by no means new discoveries and had been important influences on previous thinkers for centuries. What potentially marked Petrarch out from his predecessors was his own distinctive approach to Stoicism. Unlike earlier philosophers such as Bacon or Buridan, Petrarch rejected the syncretic ambition of aligning the Stoics with Aristotle. Dismissing what he took to be the idolatrous Aristotelianism of his day, Petrarch turned to Socrates as the father of philosophy and charted a lineage from him to Cicero, who had famously championed Socrates as the first to bring philosophy down from the heavens (Tusc. 5.10), through Latin writers such as Horace and Seneca, to Augustine, who had been heavily influenced by Cicero in his youth. In this tradition, philosophy was an activity of ethical selfcultivation, in sharp contrast to the scholastic disputations of his day that left Petrarch cold.82 A number of these themes are taken up and developed in his Secretum, a dialogue in three books between Petrarch and Augustine.83 This was composed in its first form c. 1347, after his time with Barlaam, and it draws heavily on Seneca and on Cicero’s Tusculanae disputationes, alongside a wide range of other classical literature. In it, Petrarch presents himself as somewhat unhappy and depressed, in need of philosophical and spiritual guidance. His interlocutor is Augustine, who takes the role of mentor, spiritual guide, and psychotherapist. Augustine offers the despondent Petrarch advice that draws heavily on

See Reynolds and Wilson 1968, 109. Petrarch himself wrote a letter to Cicero to mark this find; see Fam. 24.3 (Fantham 2017, ii, 434–437, with her note at 677). 80 Petrarch credited his spiritual awakening and his turn towards self-cultivation to a passage from the Confessiones (10.8.15) that he alighted on by chance in a pocket edition that he took with him when climbing Mount Ventoux. Petrarch describes this himself in his letter Fam. 4.1 (Fantham 2017, i, 44–61), often given the title The Ascent of Mount Ventoux. Interestingly in the present context, in the letter Petrarch immediately follows this with a passage expressing a similar sentiment from Seneca’s Epistulae morales (8.5). 81 In a letter addressed to Seneca, Petrarch commented “I listen to you talking each day with more attention than you can imagine” (Fam. 24.5, in Fantham 2017, ii, 446–447). 82 On all these themes, see Petrarch’s De sui ipsius et multorum ignorantia (in Marsh 2003, 222–363). On Petrarch and self-cultivation, see Zak 2010. On Petrarch’s conception of philosophy, see Sellars 2020, 231–234. 83 For the Latin text with a facing English translation, see Mann 2016. For discussion, see Marsh 2009. 79

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Stoicism and the work as a whole is a careful blend of Stoic and Augustinian themes. Augustine’s method in the dialogue is to try to show Petrarch that much of his unhappiness is the product of how he thinks about things – it is his own fault but it is also something within his own control to change. Drawing on Cicero’s accounts of Stoic ethics, Augustine insists that “virtue alone makes the mind happy”, and so consequently it is only the opposite of virtue – vice – that can make us unhappy.84 Petrarch has his alter ego comment that “you are directing me back to the teaching of the Stoics, which are contrary to popular opinion and closer to the truth”.85 In both the dialogue and in real life, Petrarch and his alter ego are already familiar with Stoic doctrine but both have struggled to put it into practice. By putting these ideas into the mouth of Augustine, Petrarch hopes they will gain greater authority over himself. In all this, Petrarch is of course in dialogue with himself. Central to the guidance and advice that Augustine offers Petrarch is an account of how emotional disturbances are an impediment to living a happy life. Here he draws on the well-known Stoic analysis reported by Cicero in the Tusculanae disputationes (3.24–25). However, the Stoic account is modified along the way in some details: the reason why the soul succumbs to these disturbances is in part because it is “infected by this body in which it is enclosed”.86 The Stoic goal of not being disturbed by external circumstances and focusing on the cultivation of virtue is combined with a Platonic-Christian rejection of the physical body and exclusive concern with the wellbeing of the soul. The historical Augustine, as noted earlier, had criticized the Stoics for thinking that happiness was within the power of individuals, holding that ultimately it depends on God’s grace.87 Petrarch gestures towards this doctrine, commenting that he can hope for nothing from himself; his only hope is in God.88 Unsurprisingly, the character Augustine endorses this but nevertheless continues within his primarily Stoic response to Petrarch’s psychological troubles. One of the emotional disturbances afflicting Petrarch – both in the dialogue and real life – was his obsessional love for Laura. This, we are told, was a significant contributor to his unhappiness. Drawing again on Cicero’s Tusculanae disputationes, the response follows broadly Stoic lines but ends with a distinctively Christian twist: what Petrarch must do is replace his love for Laura with love for God.89

See Secretum 1.3.1 (Mann 2016, 16–19): sola virtus animum felicitat. 85 Ibid.: ad stoicorum precepta me revocas, populorum opinionibus aversa et veritati propinquiora. 86 Secretum 1.15.1 (Mann 2016, 56–57): ex contagio corporis huius, ubi circumsepta est. 87 See n. 26 above. 88 See Secretum 2.1.1 (Mann 2016, 64–65). 89 See Secretum 3.5.2 (Mann 2016, 166–167). 84

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As noted earlier, the Secretum was written in the late 1340s, after Petrarch’s time with Barlaam and roughly around the time of Barlaam’s death. In the following decade Petrarch continued to explore Stoic themes in the longest of his Latin prose works, the De remediis utriusque fortunae, written while he was living in Milan.90 Continuing in the spirit of the Secretum, the De remediis drew heavily on Cicero and Seneca, and its title was a nod to a short text thought at the time to be by Seneca, although now rejected as spurious: the De remediis fortuitorum.91 The two types of fortune mentioned in Petrarch’s title are good and bad fortune. Seneca had himself discussed this topic and warned against the dangers of good fortune in his De providentia. Petrarch combines this topic taken from Seneca with the fourfold analysis of emotional disturbances in Cicero’s Tusculanae disputationes. The result is a series of dialogues in which ‘Reason’ (ratio) first debates with the emotions of ‘Joy’ (gaudium) and ‘Hope’ (spes) about apparent goods such as good health and posthumous fame, followed by debates between ‘Reason’ and the emotions of ‘Sorrow’ (dolor) and ‘Fear’ (metus) about apparent evils such as ill health, poverty, bereavement, and death. In Cicero’s account of the Stoic analysis of emotions, the four principal types were delight (laetitia) and lust (libido) followed by distress (aegritudo) and fear (metus).92 Without merely repeating his sources, then, Petrarch draws heavily on Stoic materials for both the general structure of his account and the content of the therapy he offers for good and bad fortune. As in Secretum, Petrarch combined this Stoic psychotherapy with his deeply held Christian beliefs. This comes through clearly in his treatment of hope. For the Stoics, especially Seneca, hope was a negative emotion that ought to be avoided (e.g. Const. 9.2–3). Petrarch took up this view, referring to the “idle hope of mortals, which has deceived and will continue to deceive many thousands of men”.93 In the series of short dialogues between ‘Reason’ and ‘Hope’, the majority follow this Stoic line by warning of the dangers of hope.94 The very last of these, however, discusses hope for eternal life. When Hope says “I hope for eternal life”, Reason responds by noting that in antiquity philosophers often claimed the unity of the virtues: “he who has one virtue must needs have all”. He then asks, “If this holds true of the moral virtues, what holds for the theological

There is a modern edition with facing French translation in Carraud 2002. There is an English translation with extensive annotation in Rawski 1991. For general discussion, see Kircher 2009 and, for its Stoic themes, see Panizza 1991. 91 This can be found in Haase 1895, iii, 446–457. 92 See Cicero, Tusc. 3.24–25 (SVF 3.385). 93 De remediis 1.1 (Carraud 2002, i, 22; Rawski 1991, i, 13): mortalium vana spes, que multa hominum milia et fefellit et fallet. 94 See De remediis 1.109–122 (Carraud 2002, i, 476–526; Rawski 1991, i, 294–324). 90

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ones?”.95 If it does also hold for the theological virtues, then if someone has hope, they must also possess charity and faith. Conversely, anyone without charity or faith who claims to have hope must be misguided. Moreover, because God is an infallible judge, only those who are confident that they have acted well in this life can have grounds for any genuine hope for eternal life. So, rather than worry about what will happen after death, one ought to focus attention on acting virtuously in the here and now. Petrarch concludes with the claim that hope for eternal life is “the only hope for everyone” and that, if understood properly, it can bring happiness. But all other forms of hope are, as the preceding dialogues have insisted, deceptive and dangerous. This is another example of Petrarch combining his commitment to a broadly Stoic outlook inspired by his favourite authors Cicero and Seneca with his sincere Christianity. With the exception of Christian hope for eternal life, all other forms of hope are, following the Stoics, to be avoided. In Secretum and De remediis, both written after his encounter with Barlaam, Petrarch moved away from his earlier, purely classical compositions to more inward-looking work that has been described as a mixture of Stoicism and Christianity.96 Petrarch’s three key points of reference were consistently Cicero, Seneca, and Augustine. This shift started in the mid-1340s, in precisely the period that Petrarch spent time with Barlaam, a monk trained in introspection who also combined a deep commitment to Christianity with an interest in Stoic ethics. It would go too far to suggest that in this Barlaam was a significant influence on Petrarch – we know in great detail from Petrarch’s own works the events and influences that shaped him – but we can see enough common ground between them to understand why Petrarch may have been drawn to Barlaam at that particular moment in his life; among other things they shared a deep interest in Stoic ethics.

De remediis 1.122 (Carraud 2002, i, 526; Rawski 1991, i, 323): ut necesse sit eum qui unam habet omnes habere virtutes […]. Quod si de mortalibus verum est, quid de theologicis opinemur? 96 See Mann 2016, xv–xvi. 95

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Index of Greek and Latin Words Greek Words ἀδιάφορον 183 ἄθλιος 120 ἀκρασία 166 ἀξία 134, 156 ἀπάθεια 194 ἀπαθής 124 ἀποδεικτικός 7 ἀπολλύεσθαι 107 ἀποπροημένον 183 ἀρετή 138, 143 ἀτελής 116 ἀφέλεια 174, 175 ἀφελής 175 ἄφρων 174 βελτίων 111 βούλησις 181, 182 διάθεσις 182 δύναμις 111, 119 δυσπάθεια 124 ἔλεος 85, 183, 184 ἐνέργεια 104, 106, 107, 109 ἕξις ὁρμητική 170 ἐπιθυμία 176, 178 ἔργον 103, 116, 143 εὐδαιμονία 102, 105, 106, 117, 128 εὐδαίμων 105, 106, 117 εὐθυμία 184 εὐλάβεια 181, 182 εὐπάθεια, εὐπάθειαι 121, 153, 154, 172, 177, 181, 182, 183, 184 εὐφροσύνη 184 ἡδονή 176, 178 ἡγεμονικόν 167 ἠλίθιος 174 ἠλιθιότης 18, 174

ἡσυχία 9 θεωρία 112, 142 κακία 175 κακός 175 λόγος 167 λύπη 176, 178, 183, 184 μακάριος 105, 118, 120, 149 μεσότης 124 μεταμέλεια 183 μετριοπάθεια 189, 194 μετριοπαθεῖν 124 οἰκείωσις 99, 146, 160, 161 ὁμολογία 171 ὄργανον 108 ὁρμή 166, 167, 169, 170 πάθος, πάθη 124, 126, 153, 154, 165, 168, 176, 187, 188, 189 πασχεῖν 121, 139 ποιεῖν 121, 139 προηγμένα 98 προπάθεια 187 ῥυπαίνω 118 συγκατάθεσις 198 συμπαραλαμβάνω 108 τέλος 99, 110, 171 τεχνίτης 168 τόνος 154 τέρψις 184 τύχη 119, 139 χαρά 181, 182, 184

218

Index of Greek and Latin Words

φαῦλος 174

φόβος 176, 178, 180

Latin Words aegritudo 176, 177, 178, 180, 184, 205 aequabilitas 168, 169, 173 aequalitas mentis 172 afelia 173, 174 aggregatio 135 angor 177 appetitus 169 benefica voluntas 169, 172, 173 beneficus 169 cautio 181, 182 commoda 98 commotio, commotiones 188, 189 complexum 135 conclusio 132 concupiscentia 178 consensus 198 constantia, constantiae 165, 169, 172, 174, 181, 182, 185, 186, 187 contentio 182, 184 cupiditas 176, 177 decorum 169 delectatio 177, 178 desiderium 177 discordia 180 dolor 205 elythiotes 18, 173, 174 exordium 132 filioque 5, 6, 9 formido 176, 177

malefica voluntas 169, 173 maleficus 169 malitia 173, 174, 175 malivolentia 180 malus 175 mediocritas 131 mens 166 metus 176, 177, 180, 205 misericordia 85, 178, 180, 182, 183, 184 obscuratio 168, 169, 173 obtrectatio 180 opinio 168, 169, 173, 177 passio, passiones 165, 185, 187 patientia 182 perturbatio, perturbationes 124, 145, 154, 165, 167, 168, 172, 176, 185, 187, 189 placabilitas 182, 184 poenitentia 182, 183 productiones 98 pulcher 202 quaestiones 132 ratio 167, 205 simplicitas 173 spes 205 superbia 180, 181 timor 177, 178 tristitia 178

gaudium 181, 182, 184, 205 iactatio 180 inimicitia 180 invidentia 180 iocunditas 177 ira 182, 184 laetitia 176, 177, 180, 205 libido 176, 177, 180, 205

verum iudicium 172 vesania 173, 174 viator 150, 151, 152, 153, 154 virtus 174 vis appetitiva 166 vis intellectiva 166 voluntas 181, 182 voluptas 176, 177

Index of Passages Aetius 4.21.1

167

Alexander of Aphrodisias Mantissa 20.10 20.14

142 141

(Ps.-)Andronicus De passionibus 3

180

Arethas of Caesarea Epistulae (Ep.) 44

21, 195

Arius Didymus (Ar. Did.) see Stobaeus Aristotle Analytica posteriora (An. post.) 71b19–25 7 75b32–33 65 De anima 403b22

108

Ethica Eudemia (EE) 1214b27–28 114 Ethica Nicomachea (EN) 1094a4–6 111 1094a14–16 111 1094a16–18 111 1094a18–21 63 1094a20–24 107

1094a24–25 1094a29–30 1094b8–12 1094b12–28 1094b14–22 1094b17–18 1094b18 1094b18–19 1095a16–17 1095a18–19 1095a19 1095a20 1095a32–b4 1095b14 1095b20 1095b23–1096a4 1095b26 1095b31–1096a5 1095b32–1096a4 1095b32 1096a2 1096a2–3 1096a5–7 1096a5–10 1096a6–8 1096a12–1097a14 1096a20 1097a15–1098a22 1097b2–6 1097b8–11 1097b8–12 1097b9–12 1097b14–15 1097b19–20 1097b22 1097b29–1098a20 1098a16–18 1098a17–19 1098a19–20

99 116 113 115 116 128 136 107, 112, 119 102 116 97, 105 105 104 116 127 116 67 104 116 113 127 118 107 104 112 116 116 116 112 123 109 101 103 105 106 104 105, 109 116 106

220 1098b9–11 1098b9–1101a22 1098b10 1098b12–13 1098b12–16 1098b13–20 1098b15 1098b19 1098b19–20 1098b20 1098b22–29 1098b26–27 1098b27–29 1098b27–30 1098b29–30 1098b30–1099a10 1099a29–30 1099a30–31 1099a31–b7 1099b18–20 1099b23–24 1099b23–25 1099b26–28 1100a8–9 1100b5–8 1100b7–8 1100b18–19 1100b34 1101a5–6 1101a6–8 1101a9–11 1101a14–17 1102a26–33 1105b30–35 1106a4–5 1106a15–17 1106b18–21 1106b36–1107a1 1107a1–2 1107a2–8 1107a4–6 1107a33–b4 1108a4–5 1109a25 1113b6 1115b7 1115b12 1115b18–20 1119b23

Index of Passages 97 117 109 106 107, 108 117 109 117 106 106 108 109, 117 117 127 128 113 107, 109 138 117 114, 148 129 119 117 149 118 145 137 120 149 105 102, 118 106 148 138 125 138 189 125 126 124 126 189 189 126 122 125 125 125 113

1128b35 1140b13–19 1150b29–31 1153b17–25 1169b10 1177a20–23 1177a23 1177a35–b1 1178a24–26 1179a33–34

127 112 127 122 109 104 127 103 117 142

Metaphysica (Metaph.) 1035a17–22 131 1035b33–1036a7 131 Politica (Pol.) 1304a13–17 1323b40–42

108 114

Topica (Top.) 112a16–17 139b8–9 139b16–17 154a18

150 132 65 145

(Ps.-)Aristotle Magna moralia (MM) 1183b28–34 122 1183b30–32 119 1183b34 119 Augustine Confessiones 10.8.15

203

Contra academicos 1.2.5 194 De civitate Dei (De civ. D.) 5.8 193 9.4 194, 201 14.9 194 19.4 194 De immortalitate animae 5.7 194

221

Index of Passages De libero arbitrio 1.3.8 198 De trinitate 4.20.29 13.8.11

6 194

Retractationes 1.1–2 1.1.2 1.2 1.6.5 1.8.4

193 195 194 194 195

Sermones 150 150.8 150.10

193 194, 195 194

Aulus Gellius Noctes Atticae (NA) 12.2.3 23 12.5.7 98 Barlaam of Seminara Contra Latinos A IV, 8 BV B VII, 6

6 7 8

Ep. Gr. 1 3

7, 9 9, 23

Ethica secundum Stoicos (ESS) 1.1 18, 24, 97, 100 1.2 135, 147 1.3 135 1.3–4 130 1.5 145 1.6 135, 138 1.7 126 1.7–9 125 1.7–13 135 1.8–9 141 1.9 109 1.12 125, 143, 155

1.14 1.15 1.15–25 1.16 1.19 1.20 1.22 1.25 1.26 1.28 1.28–29 1.32 1.32–33 1.32–34 2.1 2.2 2.4 2.5 2.5–7 2.7 2.8 2.8–9 2.9 2.10 2.11 2.12 2.13 2.13–14 2.14 2.15 2.16

135 64 99 103 151 130 138 156 98, 99 158 146 98 109 63 145, 166 131, 145, 151, 168, 170 151 181 146 168, 173 173 146 131, 146, 173 177 178, 180, 183 131, 181, 183 146, 151, 165, 185, 186, 188 24, 186 98, 187, 188 124, 189 190

De papae principatu 5 8 Solutiones V, 2.4–8

8

Basil Epistulae (Ep.) 234

11

Bible Acts 17:34

8

222

Index of Passages

18:12–17

192

Hebrews 4:12

69

John 15:26

6

Boethius De consolatione philosophiae (Cons.) 2.5 196 2.7 196 2.8 197 4.7 197 Cicero De finibus (Fin.) 1.11 2.86 3.12 3.32 3.35 4.25 4.26 4.27–29 4.28 4.30 4.60 5.22 5.74

99 67 134 138 84, 165, 176 131 137 109 141 141, 174 129 200 130

Tusculanae disputationes (Tusc.) 3.21 85, 183, 184 3.22 200 3.24 84 3.24–25 85, 176, 177, 204, 205 4.10 165, 167, 172 4.11 189 4.11–14 85, 176 4.12 86, 181 4.12–13 181, 182 4.14 172, 183 4.16 181, 184 4.18 85, 178, 183 4.19 180 4.31 169 4.34 65, 138, 174 5.10 203 5.18 67 5.41 68 5.81–82 103 (Ps.-)Cicero Ad Herennium 1.3.4

132

Clement of Alexandria Paedogogus 3.11

175

Damascius De officiis (Off.) 1.25 1.27 1.101 1.111 1.132

73 82, 171 80, 166 169 166

De partitione oratoria (De part. or.) 7.27 132 18.62 133 Epistulae ad Atticum (Att.) 16.11.4 166 Epistulae ad Brutum (Ad Brut.) 1.16.10 169

Historia Philosophica 46D 195 Diogenes Laertius (Diog. Laert.) 5.31 124 6.11 102 6.23 102 6.37 102 7.86 168 7.87 104 7.89 171 7.102–103 122 7.110 176 7.110–116 176 7.111 85, 183, 184

223

Index of Passages 7.112–113 7.115–116 7.116 7.127

180 172 181, 182, 184 182

Epictetus Dissertationes (Diss.) 1.2.19–21 161 2.5 147 2.18.5–12 171 2.18.11 171 2.21.5 174 3.7.14 174 3.7.19 101 3.16.9–16 171 3.22 134 3.22.99 146 3.22.109 146 3.24.21 174 4.1.101 174 4.8.21 174 Enchiridion (Ench.) 1.1 139 3 162 12 150 13 150 24.3–5 75 48 150 51 196

De remediis 1.1 1.109–122 1.122

205 205 206

Rerum familiarium libri (Fam.) 4.1 203 18.2 13 24.3 203 24.5 203 24.12 13 Rerum senilium libri (Sen.) 3.6 14 6.1 14 11.9 12, 14 16.1 22 Secretum 1.3.1 1.15.1 2.1.1 2.11.2–6 3.5.2

204 204 204 12 204

Galen De placitis Hippocratis et Platonis (PHP) 5.1 151 Giannozzo Manetti

Epicurus Sententiae Vaticanae (Sent.Vat.) 59 102

Vita Ioannis Boccacii 6 14

Eusebius Historia ecclesiastica (Hist. eccl.) 3.4 8 4.23 8 Francesco Petrarch De ignorantia 84 123 124

Vita Francisci Petrarchae 19 14

13 12 12

Giovanni Boccaccio Genealogia Deorum Gentilium (Gen.) 1.Proh.1 14 1.14 23 1.25 23 3.3 23 4.46 15 4.47 15 15.6 13, 14

224

Index of Passages in Gorgiam 17

Gregory Palamas

195

Capita 150 65–66

9, 10

Peter Abelard

Triads 2.3.11 2.3.68

19 10

Collationes 2.81 2.98 2.99

197 198 198

Epistulae (Ep.) 1.26 2.4 4.3

197 197 197

Institutio 96

197

Jean Buridan Quaest. in EN Prooemium 2.10 10.4

202 202 201, 202

Jerome De viris illustribus 12 192 in Isaiam 4.11

192

Photius Bibliotheca (Bibl.) 58 21, 196

John of Salisbury Metalogicon 1.22

Scito te ipsum (Ethica) 12,14–14,3 198 14,14–24 198

199

Lactantius Divinae institutiones (Div. inst.) 2.8.23 193

Plato Alcibiades 115b–c

107

Euthydemus 279–281

122

Phaedo 65b 114b–c

108 78

Phaedrus 244a–245c 246a–b

78 167

Republic (Rep.) 335b 360e–362c 514a–516c

143 116 115

Marcus Aurelius Ad se ipsum 2.10

187

Nikephoros Gregoras Byzantina historia (Byz. hist.) 10.8 5 11.10 3 19.1 7 Olympiodorus

225

Index of Passages Timaeus 27b–d

78

Plutarch Consolatio ad Apollonium (Cons. Apoll.) 102c–d 124 De virtute morali (Virt. mor.) 443d 132 Roger Bacon Compendium studii philosophiae 1 200 6.87 3 Opus maior 7.3.2 7.3.6–21 7.3.21 7.4.1

199 200 200 200

Opus tertium 14

200

67.10 71.20 74.16–17 81.21 81.22 82.12 82.14 92.3 102.13 120.11 121 121.14

172 182 98 174 174 174 174 172 172 172 146 147

De ira (Ira) 1.1.2 1.3.8 1.7.2 1.8.1 1.8.2 1.9.3 1.10.4 1.12.3 1.14.1 2.2.4–2.3.4 2.4.1 2.35.5

171, 185, 189 174 189 189 127 190 189 187 187 187 187 174

Seneca De beneficiis (Ben.) 4.34.4 183 De clementia (Clem.) 2.5.2–2.6.4 184 2.5.4 85, 178, 183 De constantia sapientis (Const.) 9.2–3 205 Epistulae morales (Ep.) 5.4 197 8.5 203 8.8 99 9.18 101 14.2 73 18.14–15 189 41.7–9 64 66.8 182 66.9 172 66.13 172

De providentia (Prov.) 2.2 197 3.1 197 Sextus Empiricus Adversus mathematicos (Math.) 7.151–152 168 Pyrrhoniae hypotyposes (Pyr. hyp.) 1.19–20 116 Simplicius in Categorias (in Cat.) 237,25–238,1 182 Stobaeus 2,46,5–7 2,58,8 2,68,24–2,69,10 2,69,3

103 184 169 184

226

Index of Passages

2,75,11–12 2,78,1–6 2,87,9–13 2,88,1–7 2,88,12–15 2,88,14–15 2,88,14–21 2,89,4–5 2,91,5–7 2,91,8–9 2,92,1–6 2,92,12–13 2,96,20–22 2,101,13 2,102,2 2,102,9 2,102,25–26 2,108,10

171 77 170 168 179 176 176 168 180 184 180 85, 183 138 174 174 174 183 175

Suda A830 A835 A1903 A3868 E2424

196 196 196 21, 196 21, 196

M811 O578 P2224

124 196 196

Tertullian De anima 20

192

Theodore Metochites Miscellanea 12.6.1–3

22

Thomas Aquinas Summa theologiae I q. 36 a. 2 6 I–II q. 24 a. 2 200 I–II q. 59 a. 2 200 William of Conches Moralium dogma philosophorum Prooemium 199

Index of Subjects and Names Ackrill, J. L. 109, 110–111, 113, 130 Alexander of Aphrodisias 21, 141, 142, 191 Ambrose, St 6, 193 Andronicus III 5, 11 Annas, Julia 97, 100, 101, 102, 120 Antiochus of Ascalon 141 Antisthenes 102 Apuleius 200 Arethas of Caesarea 21, 195 Aristo 134, 156, 162 Aristotle 4, 5, 7–8, 17, 22, 63, 65, 67, 97, 99–101, 102, 103–104, 104–129, 130–131, 132, 133, 136, 137, 138, 141, 142, 143, 145, 148–150, 159, 160, 161, 162, 189–190, 195, 196, 199, 200, 201–202, 203 Aristotleian logic 6, 7, 9, 10 Arius Didymus 24, 138, 174, 175, 179– 180, 183, 184 Augustine, St 4, 6, 12, 193–195, 197, 198, 201, 203, 204, 206 Aulus Gellius 20, 23, 174, 191 Averroes 200 Avicenna 200 Avignon 11, 12–13, 15, 20, 201 Barlaam of Seminara passim – his life 2–16 – on external goods and happiness 129–133 – on Stoic emotions 165–186 Basil, St 11 Bessarion 13, 19 Black Death 15 Boccaccio see Giovanni Boccaccio Boethius 4, 196–197, 201 Byzantine Empire 2

Calabria 1, 2, 4, 13, 14 Calcidius 197 Cato 129, 136, 194 Chartres 199 Chrysippus 20–21, 22, 23, 97–98, 102, 151, 154, 165, 167, 176, 191, 195 Cicero 4, 12, 20, 22, 23, 24, 65, 67, 68, 73, 80, 82, 84, 85, 99, 103, 109, 129, 130, 131, 132–133, 136, 141, 163, 165, 166–168, 169, 170–171, 172, 174, 175, 176, 177–178, 180, 181, 182, 183, 184, 189, 192, 193, 197, 198, 199, 200, 201, 202–203, 204, 205, 206 Cleanthes 20 Clement VI 13, 15 constancy 25, 71, 72, 83, 84, 86–91, 145–146, 151, 154, 172, 181–184, 187, 189 Constantinople 3–5, 6, 9, 11, 15, 19, 21, 22, 24 Cynics, Cynicism 102, 130, 133–135, 156, 162 Damascius 195 Diogenes Laertius 5, 24, 102, 122, 124, 165, 168, 176, 178, 180, 184, 196 Diogenes the Cynic 102 Dominican envoys 5–6, 7, 10 Donne, John 147 emotional disturbances 83–91, 121– 127, 145, 151–152, 154, 165–190, 204, 205 Empedocles 2 Epictetus 21, 75, 101, 133–134, 139, 143, 146, 147, 150, 161, 162, 171, 174, 195, 196

228

Index of Subjects and Names

– Christian paraphrase of Enchiridion 19–20, 21, 138, 196 Epicurus, Epicureanism 99, 101, 102– 103 Ethica secundum Stoicos – authorship 17–20 – manuscript 15, 16 – plan of the work 24–25 – sources 20–24

John of Salisbury 199 Johnson, Samuel 96 Juvenal 199

‘first movements’ 187–188 Florence 14 Francesco Petrarch 1, 11, 12–14, 15– 16, 17, 201, 202–206

Marcus Aurelius 21, 187, 191, 195, 196 Martin of Braga 192–193, 201 Maximos Planoudes 4, 21 Michael VIII Palaiolgos 3 Middle Stoa 151, 160, 167 Migne, J.–P. 1, 16, 28 Monasteries – Akataleptos 5 – Chora 4–5 – in southern Italy 3, 24 – Mount Athos 9 – St Elias 3 Moore, G. E. 100 moral luck 139–141 Mount Ventoux 203

Galen 21, 165, 191 George Lapithes 8 George Pachymeres 4 Gerace 13, 15, 20, 24 Giovanni Boccaccio 1, 14–15, 15–16, 23 good and evil 80–82 goods – bodily and external goods 67–70, 72–75, 95–163, 104–121, 122–123, 127–132, 156–159 – human goods 66–67 – of fortune 122 Gregory Akindynos 11, 148, 159 Gregory Palamas 1, 9–10, 12, 18–19, 63, 148, 159 happiness 63–79, 98, 102–103, 104– 121, 128–132, 133–144, 148–156, 159–162 Hebrews 69 Helvidius Priscus 161 Henricus Aristippus 24 Hesychast controversy 1, 9–11 Hierocles 147 Horace 199, 203 ‘indifferents’ 98, 129, 134, 154, 156, 183, 194 Irwin, Terence 134–135, 157–158 Isidore of Kiev 13 Jean Buridan 11, 201–202 Jerome, St 192

Kosman, L. A. 121 Kraut, Richard 110, 112, 113, 130 Lactantius 193 Leonzio Pilato 14–15

Nagel, Thomas 95, 96, 128–129, 139– 140, 162 Naples 11, 14–15, 24 Neoplatonism 4, 8, 10, 191, 193, 195, 196 Nicene Creed 5–6 Nikephoros Blemmydes 6 Nikephoros Gregoras 3, 5, 10, 12 Nussbaum, Martha 97–98, 113, 115, 123–124 Olympiodorus 195 Organon 17, 159 Palaiologan Renaissance 3, 21 Panaetius 146, 151, 160, 166–168, 171, 193 Paolo da Perugia 14–15, 23 Paris 11, 200, 201 Parmenides 2 Paul, St 191, 192, 196 Persius 20 Peter Abelard 193, 197–198

Index of Subjects and Names

229

Petrarch see Francesco Petrarch Photius 21, 196 Plato, Platonism 5, 8, 12, 17–18, 24, 77–78, 98, 108, 115, 116, 122, 132, 167, 195, 196 Plotinus 5, 191 Plutarch 20, 21, 124, 126, 131–132, 154, 191 Porphyry 21, 195 Posidonius 146, 151, 160, 165 Proclus 21 Pseudo-Andronicus 178, 180 Pseudo-Dionysius 4, 7, 8, 10, 18, 74, 155 Pythagoras 2 Pythagoreans 23–24

Simplicius 4, 21, 182, 195, 196 Socrates 101, 102, 108, 136, 183, 196, 203 Stilpo 101 Stobaeus 24, 176 Stoicism passim suicide 194 Syrianus 23–24

Robert Grosseteste 178 Roger Bacon 2–3, 199–200

virtue 65, 71–72, 125–127, 133–144, 149, 156–159, 194, 198, 204, 205– 206

Sceptics 95, 96, 116 Seneca 21, 22–23, 99, 127, 146, 174, 175, 181, 182, 183, 187, 189, 192– 193, 196, 197, 199, 199–200, 201– 202, 203, 205, 206 Sextus Empiricus 6, 17, 19, 116, 168 Sicily 2, 24

Tertullian 6, 192 Theodore Metochites 4, 5, 6, 22 Theophrastus 18, 24, 89–91, 98, 186– 188 Thessaloniki 3, 9, 24 Thomas Aquinas, St 4, 6, 7, 11, 200– 201

will, kinds of 82–83, 170–171 William of Conches 198–199 William of Moerbeke 4, 21 William of Ockham 11 Williams, Bernard 99–100, 153 Wittgenstein, Ludwig 96