advice that we ourselves behaved in such a
manner as to consult the advantage of the whole body of the citizens
rather than our own.

But how admirably did you seem to speak, when on the one side you drew a
picture of a man loaded with the most numerous and excessive pleasures,
with no pain, either present or future; and on the other, of a man
surrounded with the greatest torments affecting his whole body, with no
pleasure, either present or hoped for; and asked who could be more
miserable than the one, or more happy than the other? and then concluded,
that pain was the greatest evil, and pleasure the greatest good.

XX. There was a man of Lanuvium, called Lucius Thorius Balbus, whom you
cannot remember; he lived in such a way that no pleasure could be imagined
so exquisite, that he had not a superfluity of it. He was greedy of
pleasure, a critical judge of every species of it, and very rich. So far
removed from all superstition, as to despise the numerous sacrifices which
take place, and temples which exist in his country; so far from fearing
death, that he was slain in battle fighting for the republic. He bounded
his appetites, not according to the division of Epicurus, but by his own
feelings of satiety. He took sufficient exercise always to come to supper
both thirsty and hungry. He ate such food as was at the same time nicest
in taste and most easy of digestion; and selected such wine as gave him
pleasure, and was, at the same time, free from hurtful qualities. He had
all those other means and appliances which Epicurus thinks so necessary,
that he says that if they are denied, he cannot understand what is good.
He was free from every sort of pain; and if he had felt any, he would not
have borne it impatiently, though he would have been more inclined to
consult a physician than a philosopher. He was a man of a beautiful
complexion, of perfect health, of the greatest influence, in short, his
whole life was one uninterrupted scene of every possible variety of
pleasures. Now, you call this man happy. Your principles compel you to do
so. But as for me, I will not, indeed, venture to name the man whom I
prefer to him--Virtue herself shall speak for me, and she will not hesitate
to rank Marcus Regulus before this happy man of yours. For Virtue asserts
loudly that this man, when, of his own accord, under no compulsion, except
that of the pledge which he had given to the enemy, he had returned to
Carthage, was, at the very