Those emotions which the Greeks call εὐπαθείαι, and which Cicero calls constantiœ, the Stoics limited to three; and, in place of three “disturbances” in the soul of the wise man, they substituted, one for each: for desire, will; for joy, contentment; and for fear, caution; and as to sickness or pain, which we, to avoid ambiguity, preferred to call sorrow, they denied that it could exist in the mind of a wise man. Will, they say, seeks the good, for the wise man does this. Contentment has its object in good that is possessed, and the wise man continually possesses this. Caution avoids evil, and the wise man ought to avoid this. But sorrow arises from evil that has already happened; and as they suppose that no evil can happen to the wise man, nothing in his mind can correspond to sorrow. According to them, therefore, no one but the wise man wills, is contented, uses caution; and that the fool can do no more than desire, rejoice, fear, be sad. The first three emotions Cicero calls constantiœ, the last four perturbationes. Many, however, call these last passions; and, as I have said, the Greeks call the former εὐπαθείαι, and the latter πάθη . And when I made a careful examination of Scripture to find whether it supported this terminology, I came upon this saying of the prophet: “There is no contentment for the wicked, says the Lord;” Isaiah 57:21 as if the wicked might more properly rejoice than be contented regarding evils, for contentment belongs to the good and godly. I found also that verse in the Gospel: “Whatever you will that men should do to you, do the same to them,” Matthew 7:12 which seems to imply that evil or shameful things may be the object of desire, but not of will. Indeed, some interpreters have added “good things,” to bring the expression more into line with customary usage, and have given this meaning, “Whatever good deeds you will that men should do to you.” For they thought that this would prevent anyone from wishing other men to provide him with improper, not to say shameful, gratifications — luxurious banquets, for example — on the supposition that if he did the same for them in return he would be fulfilling this precept. In the Greek Gospel, however, from which the Latin is translated, “good” does not occur, but only, “All things whatever that you will that men should do to you, do the same to them,” and, as I believe, because “good” is already included in the word “will;” for He does not say “desire.” Yet though we may sometimes make use of these precise distinctions of language, we are not always to be bound by them; and when we read those writers whose authority it is unlawful to dispute, we must accept the meanings above mentioned in passages where a right sense can be drawn out by no other interpretation, as in the instances we cited partly from the prophet, partly from the Gospel. For who does not know that the wicked exult with joy? Yet “there is no contentment for the wicked, says the Lord.” And how can that be, if not because contentment, when the word is used in its proper and distinctive significance, means something different from joy? In the same way, who would deny that it would be wrong to command men to do to others whatever they desire others to do to them, since they might then please one another by shameful and illicit pleasure? And yet the precept, “Whatever you will that men should do to you, do the same to them,” is very wholesome and just. And how is this, if not because the will is in this place used strictly, and signifies that will which cannot have evil for its object? But ordinary speech would not have allowed the saying, “Be unwilling to tell any kind of lie,”⁠a if there were not also an evil will, whose wickedness separates it from the will which the angels celebrated, “Peace on earth, of good will to men.” Luke 2:14 For “good” is superfluous if there is no other kind of will but good will. And why should the apostle have mentioned it among the praises of charity as a great thing, that “it does not rejoice in iniquity,” if not because wickedness does so rejoice? For even with secular writers these words are used interchangeably. For Cicero, that most fertile of orators, says, “I desire, conscript fathers, to be merciful.” And who would be so pedantic as to say that he should have said “I will” rather than “I desire,” because the word is used in a good sense? Again, in Terence, the profligate youth, burning with wild lust, says, “I will nothing else than Philumena.” That this “will” was lust is sufficiently indicated by the answer of his old servant which is there introduced: “How much better it would be to try to banish that love from your heart, than to speak so as uselessly to inflame your passion still more!” And that contentment was used by secular writers in a bad sense that verse of Virgil testifies, in which he most concisely sums up these four disturbances — “Hence they fear and desire, grieve and are content.” The same author had also used the expression, “the evil contentments of the mind.” So good and bad men alike will, are cautious, and contented; or, to say the same thing in other words, good and bad men alike desire, fear, rejoice, but the former in a good, the latter in a bad fashion, depending on whether the will is right or wrong. Sorrow itself, too, which the Stoics would not allow any place in the mind of the wise man, is used in a good sense, and especially in our writings. For the apostle praises the Corinthians because they had a godly sorrow. But perhaps someone may say that the apostle congratulated them because they were penitently sorry, and that such sorrow can exist only in those who have sinned. For these are his words: “For I perceive that the same epistle has made you sorry, though only for a time. Now I rejoice, not that you were made sorry, but that you were sorry to the point of repentance; for you were made sorry in a godly way, so that you might suffer no loss through us. For godly sorrow produces a repentance leading to salvation that is not to be regretted, but the sorrow of the world produces death. For behold what earnestness this very thing, that you were sorry in a godly way, produced in you!” 2 Corinthians 7:8-11 Consequently the Stoics may defend themselves by replying that sorrow is indeed useful for repentance of sin, but that this can have no place in the mind of the wise man, since no sin attaches to him of which he could sorrowfully repent, nor any other evil the endurance or experience of which could make him sorrowful. For they say that Alcibiades (if my memory does not deceive me), who believed himself happy, shed tears when Socrates argued with him, and demonstrated that he was miserable because he was foolish. In his case, therefore, folly was the cause of this useful and desirable sorrow, with which a man mourns that he is what he ought not to be. But the Stoics maintain not that the fool, but that the wise man, cannot be sorrowful.