This article examines a key concept in Roman practical ethics — the principle of ‘situational variability’ or ‘situation ethics’Footnote ¹ — as it is set out in Valerius Maximus' compendium of traditional exempla, Dicta et Facta Memorabilia (written c. a.d. 30). It argues that Valerius' treatment of the concept as it applies specifically to the process of reading and making use of exempla shows striking parallels with the treatment of the topic found in works of Roman practical philosophy, and especially in Cicero, de Officiis, as it applies to moral evaluation and moral decision-making more generally. The implications of this are various. First, it enhances our appreciation of Valerius Maximus by demonstrating that his work contains nuanced exposition of ethical ideas. In addition, my analysis shows that Valerius explicitly articulates meta-exemplary precepts — i.e. guidance on how exempla should be read and used — and in this respect is a useful source for our understanding of the Roman exemplary process more generally. Next, my analysis can be used to make the case that situation ethics was an important feature of the Roman ethical system, that awareness of its implications was not limited to Stoic philosophy, and that it had a particular relevance for the rôle of exempla within Roman ethics. My comparison of Valerius Maximus and Cicero also establishes parallels between the process of reading exempla and the process of moral reasoning within Roman ethics. My further hypothesis — described briefly below — is that these parallels will enable us to develop new approaches to the study of Roman exempla and ethics, and this is the basis of a future research project. In this article, however, I limit myself to establishing that Valerius Maximus outlines situation ethics as a fundamental aspect of the Roman exemplary process, and that a comparison of his ideas with those set out in Cicero, de Officiis shows that there are clear parallels in Roman ethics between the process of moral reasoning and the process of reading exempla for moral purposes.

The idea that it is important to take full account of context when evaluating a moral deed or making a moral decision, and that moral rules are therefore flexible and subject to exception and modification rather than being universally applicable injunctions, has been developed most substantially in modern philosophy as ‘situation ethics’ and ‘moral contextualism’. Two recent works of scholarship have independently suggested that this was also an important feature of two rather different aspects of ancient Roman ethics: popular morality and Stoic philosophy. Teresa Morgan has concluded, from her extensive survey of popular wisdom literature from the early Roman Empire (where she analyses proverbs, fables and gnomai, as well as exempla), that ‘situation ethics’ and ‘phase rules’ were key features underpinning Roman popular ethics. She has suggested that these were particularly important in a culture such as that of early imperial Rome which extended across a vast and diverse empire, which operated a highly structured social hierarchy, and which used tools such as exempla, fables and proverbs to transmit and share moral ideas.Footnote ² While Morgan deduces situation ethics to be an underlying principle of popular ethics, Brad Inwood has shown that a very similar concept — what Inwood describes as ‘flexibility and situational variability’Footnote ³ — is theorized by Seneca in discussion of the rôle of rules and laws in Stoic moral reasoning. As Inwood suggests, this concept has been developed within Stoic thought, and is articulated by Seneca as a means of addressing a long-standing problem within Stoic as well as Aristotelian ethics: how to apply universal moral injunctions in a way that takes account of particular circumstances.Footnote ⁴ Inwood draws upon the work of Frederick Schauer in order to produce a refined model of how such situational variability might allow moral rules to be applied in a way that is sensitive to circumstance: as guidelines that are generally to be used as aids to moral reasoning, but which can, when occasion requires it, be dispensed with.Footnote ⁵ These ‘enable the moral reasoner to find the balance between abstract theory and the demands of a particular context’.Footnote ⁶

Situation ethics, then, was both an underlying principle of popular morality in ancient Rome and an idea that was theorized by ancient philosophers. One significant contribution made by my analysis of situation ethics in Valerius Maximus is that it bridges the gap between the popular ethical practices inferred by Morgan and Seneca's philosophical discussion as elucidated by Inwood, enabling us to make a strong claim about the presence of situation ethics as an ethical model across Roman culture, shared by popular and philosophical ethical systems, and between practical and theoretical ethics.Footnote ⁷ Valerius Maximus' Facta et Dicta Memorabilia is a work aimed at the literate upper classes of Roman society, which endorses élite values; nevertheless, it is not a work which was intended exclusively for a philosophical readership or as a contribution to philosophical debates.Footnote ⁸ My analysis therefore provides evidence that there was awareness outside philosophical discourse of situation ethics as an ethical model and of its implications and limitations. Furthermore, the author of the Facta et Dicta Memorabilia represents it as particularly pertinent to the reading and interpretation of exempla, and the application of exempla to one's moral development. Morgan's deductions about the principles underlying Roman popular ethics are therefore confirmed by my demonstration that they are systematically articulated in a non-philosophical work of practical ethics, in relation to exempla.

Once we have established that situation ethics was a framework shared across Roman culture in the first century a.d. both for moral decision-making and for the use of exempla in moral education, we can apply the same modern discussions of situation ethics and contextualism to ancient exemplarity as are currently applied to ancient moral reasoning, enabling us to appreciate in more nuanced fashion how exempla worked within Roman ethics. Here I take as a model Brad Inwood's application of the work of Frederick Schauer to the study of Stoic moral reasoning.Footnote ⁹Exempla, in their ethical (as opposed to rhetorical) guise, have usually been associated (at least implicitly) with a deductive model of ethical reasoning and with deontology, and they have been subject to similar criticisms as these ethical models.Footnote ¹⁰ That is to say, they have been viewed as constituting an ethical medium that is prescriptive, dogmatic, and inflexible. They are also seen, as a result of these features, to be subject to failure, not least when the heroic deeds of outstanding individuals are inimitable by ordinary people, or when the deeds of long ago no longer seem relevant or practicable in the present climate.Footnote ¹¹ My suggestion, which I will develop elsewhere, is that we see exempla as analogous to moral rules in Stoic reasoning, as discussed by Brad Inwood: we should understand them as subject to heuristic reading that applies the concept of situational variability. This provides a framework that promises to go some way towards explaining the ethical mechanisms by which Roman exempla retained their open-ended flexibility and enduring moral relevanceFootnote ¹² at the same time as appearing to act as clear moral injunctions about how to behave.Footnote ¹³

The article is divided into four sections. Section i provides an introduction to the concept of situation ethics, through analysis of an anecdote told by Valerius Maximus about Cato the Younger. Section ii summarizes Cicero's ideas about situation ethics as outlined in de Officiis, including the exposition of the four-personae theory, where Cicero also makes use of Cato the Younger as an illustrative exemplum. This section also indicates how Cicero's precepts relate to his employment of exempla in that work. The next two sections provide analyses of two chapters in Valerius Maximus in which he explores the idea of situation ethics in relation to fiducia or ‘confidence’ (Section iii) and necessitas or ‘necessity’ (Section iv). In this article I draw particular attention to the parallels between the ideas set out by Valerius Maximus and those set out in Cicero, de Officiis. It is generally thought that de Officiis — a work of pragmatic ethics designed to guide the élite Roman through his everyday life — was influential on the ethical thought of succeeding generations,Footnote ¹⁴ and it seems likely that Valerius was aware of Cicero's work and that it informed his own discussion, providing him with a conceptual language for exploring these issues as they applied to the process of reading and learning from traditional exempla. I conclude with some preliminary thoughts about how the framework of situation ethics, as set out by Valerius Maximus and Cicero, might enhance our understanding of how Roman readers read exempla for moral guidance in their own lives.

I CATO AND THE IMPORTANCE OF PERSONA

In order to clarify what is meant by ‘situational variability’ and ‘situation ethics’, I start with discussion of an anecdote told by Valerius Maximus in chapter 6.2 of his Memorable Words and Deeds — a chapter devoted to the subject of freedom of speech and action. As Valerius says, by way of introduction to the story, we would hardly expect a chapter about libertas to omit mention of Cato — ‘What then? Freedom without Cato? No more than Cato without freedom!’ (‘quid ergo? libertas sine Catone? non magis quam Cato sine libertate!’, 6.2.5). However, the story that follows is not necessarily the one we might expect, since his most famous act of freedom was the suicide that liberated him from tyranny (which Cicero chooses to illustrate his four-personae theory, discussed in Section ii below). That story of Cato's ‘illustrious end’ has already been told by Valerius at 3.2.14 (in a chapter on fortitudo), and alluded to admiringly at 4.6.5. Here, however, Valerius relates a story dating from earlier in his life, in 52 b.c., when Cato stood up to Pompey in court when the latter attempted to use his influence to get a guilty man acquitted:

As so often in Valerius' abbreviated exempla, the full force of the story is only evident if you have just a little more information than Valerius gives in his text — hence my insertion in square brackets: the law to which Cato appeals here had been passed by Pompey himself.Footnote ¹⁶ His challenge to Pompey's power has been mounted using Pompey's own law against him, in an act of witty defiance that should make a reader gasp in astonishment at his cheek. However, Valerius concludes the story by commenting that because this audacious deed was performed by Cato in particular, our response to it must be different from what it would have been had the deed been performed by someone else; we must interpret and evaluate the story differently and see the act as a manifestation of a different moral quality: ‘The individual (persona) concerned removes any amazement from this act, for what would have seemed in another man audacity, in Cato is recognized as confidence’, (‘huic facto persona admirationem adimit: nam quae in alio audacia videretur, in Catone fiducia cognoscitur’, 6.2.5). In someone else this act would have been a manifestation of the quality of audacia, which is not a commendable quality, but in this particular case it can be recognized as fiducia. So, in this case, an act performed by Cato is judged to be praiseworthy at least partly on the grounds that it was Cato who did it.

The story illustrates clearly the importance of taking into account persona — the particular nature and characteristics of the individual performing it — when it comes to evaluating the moral significance of an action. This is also one of the key precepts set out in Cicero, de Officiis. There, however, the emphasis is on the moment at which a moral agent makes a moral choice, whether about a particular action or about the general direction of his life, and on the need to take into account what one knows about one's own persona when deciding which course of action is the most appropriate.Footnote ¹⁷ Here, in the context of Valerius' collection of exempla, the issue of situational variability is approached from the perspective of the reader of exempla, who is scrutinizing and evaluating the actions of other people in order to learn from them how to live.Footnote ¹⁸

If we read this anecdote looking for moral guidance for our own lives, the problem is this: if a necessary condition for an act being good is that it was done by Cato (or someone like Cato), how can it work as a moral exemplum? How could a morally aspiring Roman reader apply this exemplum to his or her own life? The context — his own persona — that lends Cato's act moral value is so specific that it can hardly offer straightforward guidance to readers about how to act in similar situations; it cannot be prescriptive about what behaviour is required and cannot invite straightforward imitation. This little passage neatly poses the perennial question of how readers of exemplary tales can go about applying morals derived from the extraordinary and particular deeds of heroes to their own ordinary lives, which is a central issue within the Roman moral system.Footnote ¹⁹ Furthermore, as both Cicero and Valerius Maximus make plain, the circumstances that might affect the moral value of an act are manifold, and include, as well as the persona of the agent, the nature of the location in which it takes place and the particular historical setting or moment in time.

In her brief discussion of situation ethics in Roman popular morality, Teresa Morgan has pointed out that such sensitivity to context, whilst allowing the same moral values to be shared by people from very different walks of life, also posed its own problems for the moral agent engaged in decision-making: ‘If popular ethics were like a giant jigsaw puzzle, how did each moral agent decide where he or she fitted in? How did the moral system, which we have been viewing as a whole, enable individuals to decide what was good or bad, necessary or useful for them to do? It is a vital question, because if what is good or bad for one depends on one's situation, then to miscalculate that situation is to court disaster.’Footnote ²⁰

An examination of the way Valerius Maximus articulates similar ideas about situational variability to those found in de Officiis equips us with the tools to begin to answer this question. The four-personae framework outlined by Cicero, and the further precepts he sets out about other contingent factors that need to be taken into account when one is making moral choices, are applied by Valerius Maximus to the reading of exempla for moral ends. The Roman ethical system places a particular burden on readers of exempla as moral agents: in reading an exemplum, they need to understand the particular circumstances that made it the right act for that exemplary figure at that moment, and also to recognize to what extent it is appropriate for them to identify with that exemplary figure. Indeed, in any given situation, they need to recognize who they are, what the significant aspects of their own particular context are, and what action is therefore appropriate for them at that moment. An extremely important ethical skill, then, is that of being able to evaluate ethical context and understand how individual agents fit into this context. If ethical value is to a certain extent contingent on differences between individuals, it is very important that an individual understands how to situate himself within the ethical system. Before you act up with Pompey, you have to be sure that you really are Cato, otherwise you will end up looking like an idiot.

In this article I shall argue that Valerius Maximus is keen to impress this lesson upon the readers of his exempla, and that he does so in a sustained and nuanced fashion in two places in particular, which I shall analyse at length: chapter 3.7, whose subject is confidence in oneself (fiducia sui) and chapter 7.6 on necessitas. The anecdote about Cato's fiducia discussed above provides a good example of the way that Valerius is able to point out a knotty and important ethical issue in a straightforward fashion by citing a brief version of a well-worn exemplary tale. Valerius' project is part of a long tradition of addressing ethical issues through consideration of exempla, for example in the casuistic treatments of issues in practical ethics on which Cicero drew for de Officiis, such as those of Hecato, Panaetius and Posidonius, as well as in de Officiis itself, which has been described as displaying ‘a sensitive regard for the way exemplary cases express the substance of moral dilemmas’.Footnote ²¹

II SITUATION ETHICS IN CICERO, DE OFFICIIS

The most striking example of this is the extended treatment of the exemplum of Atilius Regulus towards the end of de Officiis Book 3 (3.99–115), which provides an attractive demonstration of how a traditional tale of heroism can be taken as a starting point for complex ethical debate. Regulus can be seen as the archetypal hero of Cicero's work in that his decision to give himself up to torture and execution by the Carthaginians rather than allow himself to be exchanged for Carthaginian hostages is illustrative not merely of a variety of desirable qualities such as courage and patriotism, but also of the archetypal quality that de Officiis aims to inculcate in its reader in Book III, the ability to take the right moral decision (rather than the apparently expedient one) in a given situation.Footnote ²²

Regulus' example is cited as illustration of the ability to discern when a course of action that on the face of it appears to be beneficial — in this case, staying in Rome with his family and maintaining his status in Roman society — is actually not so: ‘When he arrived in Rome, he saw the appearance of benefit, but, as events relate, he judged it false’ (‘is cum Romam venisset, utilitatis speciem videbat, sed eam, ut res declarat, falsam iudicavit’, 3.99). Once he has established Regulus as this model of ethical judgement, Cicero then goes on to demonstrate that the Regulus story itself is capable of different interpretations, and that there is a range of alternative ethical perspectives on Regulus' decision to leave his family and return to the Carthaginians. In sections 100–110 Cicero responds in detail to a series of objections to Regulus' decision posed by imaginary interlocutors, which are clearly reprising well-known arguments about the case, perhaps from declamatory exercises. Although he argues against them, the positions set out by these interlocutors are perfectly sensible and philosophically informed, and indicate ways that the exemplum might be used to think about issues such as the honourable versus the expedient, or the status of oaths sworn to the enemy.Footnote ²³ This lengthy section demonstrates that a single bold exemplum is able to allow for considerable moral complexity. The meaning even of one of the most illustrious of Roman exempla is not necessarily straightforward; a heroic act is susceptible to different interpretations by different people. Above all, both the exemplum itself and Cicero's extended discussion of it illustrate the point that both interpreting exempla (as Cicero is interpreting Regulus' deed) and making ethical decisions (as Regulus has done in the story) are processes that require a great deal of care and fine judgement.

As far as situation ethics goes, Cicero is concerned throughout de Officiis to highlight that there are many factors that need to be borne in mind when deciding which action is appropriate in any given situation. These include external circumstances such as place and time, as well as a set of personal circumstances set out in his theory of the four personae (1.93–153). I shall turn to personal circumstances in a moment, but begin by outlining what Cicero says about external circumstances, both before and after his discussion of personae. In a discussion of justice he asserts that changing circumstances often transform the moral significance of an act: ‘occasions (tempora) often arise when those things that seem to be most worthy of a just person, whom we would call a “good man”, are utterly transformed and become the opposite’ (‘incidunt saepe tempora cum ea quae maxime videntur digna esse iusto homine eoque quem virum bonum dicimus commutantur fiuntque contraria’, 1.31); his examples are keeping a promise or repaying a loan, which may turn out to be the wrong thing to do in certain circumstances. ‘Actions change with the circumstances, and the duty changes and is not always the same’ (‘ea cum tempore commutantur, commutatur officium et non semper est idem’, 1.31).

Later Cicero explains that particular contexts, locations and moments in time call for different forms of behaviour, and the difference between what is required can be so great that it is possible that behaviour that is appropriate in one setting might even be considered offensive in another. As one of the illustrations of his point that ‘there is so much significance in both place and time’ (‘tanta vis est et loci et temporis’, 1.144), Cicero cites an exemplum from Athenian history in which Pericles rebukes Sophocles for making an appreciative remark about a good-looking boy who walked past them while they were having a formal meeting as generals, telling him that as a general he ought to keep his eyes off the boys as well as his hands. Cicero comments: ‘if he had made the same remark in the gymnasium, he wouldn't have attracted the criticism that was deserved here.’Footnote ²⁴ Ogling young men is par for the course in the setting of the gymnasium, but unacceptable in a more formal setting; location is a determining factor. In Book 3 Cicero makes a similar point, but with more moral force: ‘thus, many acts that seem to be morally good by their nature, become not morally good because of the occasions on which they are performed’ (‘sic multa, quae honesta natura videntur esse, temporibus fiunt non honesta’, 3.95–6).

Meanwhile in 1.93–153 Cicero outlines and discusses the aspects of an individual's character and situation that need to be analysed, grasped and taken into account in moral decision-making; these he divides into four personae or rôles.Footnote ²⁵ The first consists in the essential rôle common to everyone of being a human being (1.107), the second the specific nature and qualities with which an individual has been endowed (1.107), the third the various social attributes with which chance (casus) or circumstance (tempus) has endowed the individual, such as wealth and rank (1.115), and the fourth the rôle that he has chosen to take up in his life, such as the career of philosopher, lawyer or orator (1.115). All of these, taken together, form an interlocking framework within which an individual must make his moral choices. The first two personae are given by nature, and constitute the qualities that make a person human and then the qualities that make a person a distinct individual. The third persona is made up of the circumstances that chance has allocated to the person, such as wealth and birth. The fourth persona is the outcome of a choice that an individual must make about the path to follow in their own life, ‘the most difficult decision of all’ (‘quae deliberatio est omnium difficillima’, 1.117), the rôle they have chosen to play. This, as Cicero makes clear, will work best if it is made taking into account the natural strengths and weaknesses of the individual's second persona (as well as, naturally, the constraints imposed under the third persona).Footnote ²⁶ In Cicero's account, there naturally occur many different kinds of individuals, and there is a great variation in ways of being good (‘innumerabiles aliae dissimilitudines sunt naturae morumque, minime tamen vituperandorum’, 1.109); he illustrates this claim by citing twenty-four well-known exemplary figures from Greek and Roman history who display sets of opposing characteristics which are nevertheless all laudable.Footnote ²⁷ It is vital that in choosing one's life-path, as well as in decisions about individual actions, one is fully aware of one's own nature and takes this into account; this will make it easier to maintain the rôle one has chosen and ensure the moral consistency (constantia) that will make it easier to behave appropriately in any given situation: ‘each person should hold onto his own characteristics, insofar as they are not flawed, but nevertheless belong to him, so that the decorum that we seek should be more easily retained’ (‘admodum autem tenenda sunt sua cuique, non vitiosa, sed tamen propria, quo facilius decorum illud, quod quaerimus, retineatur’, 1.110). There is no point fighting your own nature by choosing a path to which you are ill suited and which you struggle to maintain; as far as possible the personae must be in harmony with one another.Footnote ²⁸ In addition, different behaviour is appropriate for those at different stages of life (1.122) and for people of different backgrounds and status.

The range of different personal factors that need to be taken into account when making moral decisions, and the range of ways that these factors might interact to produce the specific context for any given moral decision, allow for a considerable range of possibilities of morally right behaviour. In any given circumstance for a particular individual, there should only be one act or decision that is ‘just right’Footnote ²⁹ for them, there and then. However, there may be a range of ‘just right’ possibilities that they must choose from according to their own particular contingencies. This allows for a considerable flexibility in Cicero's ethical model, which enables individuals to make choices about what behaviour is most appropriate for them, yet still stay true to the core Roman virtues. This moral flexibility is such that it is perfectly possible that in a given situation the act that is right for one person might be entirely wrong for another person, and entirely opposite responses are required by different people.Footnote ³⁰ Here Cicero takes as his illustrative exemplum the suicide of Cato at Utica after his defeat by Julius Caesar, arguing that such action might have been seen as a vice (vitium) in other people who had found themselves in the same circumstances (eadem causa), whereas Cato, given the person he was, had to die: ‘moriendum … fuit’ (1.112).

There has been considerable debate among scholars about the significance of this passage, and especially about what it can tell us about the concept of the ‘individual’ in Roman ethical thought and about Roman attitudes towards suicide.Footnote ³¹ I follow Christopher Gill in reading this passage not as a comment on the uniqueness of Cato as a personality, but rather as a particularly striking illustration of the effective functioning of the four personae acting in concert in the person of Cato. Nature has endowed Cato with extraordinary gravitas (second persona), he has chosen to strengthen and develop this through his choice of life-path (fourth persona),Footnote ³² and the happy correlation (aequabilitas) between all the different aspects of his nature contributed by each of the four personae has given him the ability to persevere with this gravitas in exceptional circumstances (constantia).Footnote ³³ This perfect and productive harmony of the whole package of the four personae is what Gill calls the ‘structured wholeness’ of the individual.Footnote ³⁴ If you make the right decisions about your way in life so that all personae are in harmony at an early stage, then in any given situation you have no need to start a new calculation from scratch about what moral action is required from you, but can simply act in consistency with the harmonious moral self that you have been developing over the course of your lifetime.

Cicero draws attention several times to the implications that this framework of situation ethics has for the Roman exemplary tradition of striving to emulate great figures of the past. We should imitate others and follow their example only if we are equipped by nature to do so: there is no point ‘pursuing something that you can't reach’ (‘sequi quod adsequi non queas’, 1.110) and ‘you cannot preserve [the aequabilitas of your whole life that decorum requires] if you imitate the nature of other people, ignoring your own nature’ (‘quam conservare non possis si aliorum naturam imitans omittas tuam’, 1.111).Footnote ³⁵ The implications of these statements are that we must be careful how we use exempla. Cicero first spells this out in relation to imitation of our own ancestors, whom we should usually strive to imitate, but not if ‘our own nature does not support us in being able to imitate them in some respect’ (‘si natura non feret ut quaedam imitari possint’, 1.121). The same caveats are in place when it comes to using traditional exempla from history, which relate the deeds of truly exceptional individuals whose capabilities are likely to far exceed our own. The very specific circumstances and personal qualities that made the behaviour of exemplary figures right for them are unlikely to be present for the ordinary Roman moral agent, so mere imitation of their acts is likely to be inappropriate: ‘And no one should be led astray by this error, into judging that, because Socrates or Aristippus did or said something against custom or social convention, they too have the same licence’ (‘nec quemquam hoc errore duci oportet, ut, si quid Socrates aut Aristippus contra morem consuetudinemque civilem fecerint locutive sint, idem sibi arbitretur licere’, 1.148).

Cicero's framework of sensitivity to situational variability, including the four-personae theory, allows general moral precepts to offer guidance which can be flexibly applied by the moral agent according to their own circumstances, both external and personal, rather than prescriptive rules about what should be done by any good person in any given set of circumstances.Footnote ³⁶ As Inwood suggests, there are distinct similarities between the ideas we find here and those found in Seneca's Letters 94 and 95 relating to the need for flexibility and situational variability.Footnote ³⁷ However, Cicero makes it clear that the same situational sensitivity is required when it comes to reading exempla and applying them to one's own moral development and moral decision-making too.

An important corollary of all of this is that anyone who aspires to moral rightness and decorum needs to have a very clear grasp of his or her own strengths and weaknesses.Footnote ³⁸ Throughout these passages Cicero uses the language of perception — seeming and recognizing — to evoke this process of moral judgement,Footnote ³⁹ as does Valerius with the terms videretur and cognoscitur in 6.2.5 discussed above; both thereby highlight the fact that accurate perception of moral value both in oneself and in others is difficult as well as being of the utmost importance. Valerius' work will also offer the reading of exempla as one means of developing this self-knowledge, by measuring oneself against the exemplary figures of the past.

III CONFIDENCE (FIDUCIA) AND SITUATIONAL VARIABILITY

In the exemplum about Cato with which I began Section i, the quality which one was able to recognize (cognoscitur) in Cato thanks to his particular persona was fiducia — confidence. This is a quality which demands, of course, a high degree of accurate self-knowledge, since misplaced confidence in oneself has the potential to be disastrous.Footnote ⁴⁰ Valerius devotes chapter 3.7 to this quality of self-confidence, which follows a chapter (3.6) on the related subject of great men who exercise some licence in their behaviour and who break with convention, and is followed by chapter 3.8 on the very same quality — constantia (consistency) — which, for Cicero, is the key to bringing all the personal contingencies into harmony. My discussion will show that Valerius' fiducia (when conceived positively) is very closely related to moral consistency of the kind embodied, in Cicero's account, in Cato the Younger, since it involves a knowledge of one's strengths that enables one to forge ahead with implementing one's moral plans and decisions even in the face of adversity or the misgivings of others. It is also highly contingent on personal qualities and self-knowledge; as Cicero warns us in de Officiis, sometimes great men can get away with doing things that run counter to the agreed common morality, but these acts would be entirely inappropriate for others, and we should be careful not to be seduced into thinking that imitating them is the right course of action.Footnote ⁴¹ This means that exempla must be read very carefully, and, as we shall see, in 3.7 Valerius Maximus makes this same point. However, he also provides scope through his examples and comments for a more detailed consideration of the implications of this precept for ethical decision-making.

Valerius introduces the material in this chapter with the claim that the examples he cites here will allow it ‘to be understood how much self-confidence virtue is accustomed to have’ (‘illis autem, quae deinceps subnectam, quantam sui fiduciam [virtus] habere soleat cognoscitur’, 3.7.pr.). The chapter begins by asserting, in other words, that confidence in oneself is a characteristic of virtus (moral worth). It concludes in similar fashion, after Valerius has related the twenty-seven tales that provide its exemplary meat, by reiterating the close connection between fiducia and moral rectitude, describing: ‘…the open and spirited breast of good confidence’ (‘apertum et animosum bonae fiduciae pectus’, 3.8.pr), and saying:

Fiducia, then, is the quality that enables one to translate one's knowledge of one's own strengths and talents into the capacity to persevere with one's chosen path and stick to one's moral principles. It engenders the quality of constantia which is the subject of chapter 3.8, and which Cicero describes as the organizing principle of the four personae in a moral individual. We can already see this consistency in action in the long series of confident deeds listed in 3.7.1, which are all the actions of a single man, Scipio Africanus. His behaviour is described as ‘so resolute’ (‘tam constantem’, 3.7.1f),Footnote ⁴² and Valerius comments on his ability repeatedly to enact virtues in his chosen field of excellence: ‘I will not weary in relating over and over again the deeds of this man, since he was not wearied either by enacting virtues in the same way’ (‘non fatigabor eiusdem facta identidem referendo, quoniam ne ille quidem in consimili genere virtutes edendo fatigatus est’, 3.7.1g).

In these opening exempla, as in the chapter prefaces cited above, fiducia is represented both as the consequence of virtue and as virtue's tool, enabling virtue to carry out its plans; in any case it is on the side of moral right (although, as we shall see, during the course of the chapter this close relationship between virtue and self-confidence is shown to be somewhat problematic). Valerius' authorial comment upon each of these exempla lays consistent emphasis on the beneficial effect of such confident acts. In the first story fiducia brings hope of safety and victory to the Roman people (3.7.1a), in the third it secures the end of the Second Punic War (3.7.1c), next it intimidates the enemy and crushes their spirits (3.7.1d; see also 3.7.5, 3.7.6), and procures justice for the falsely accused (3.7.1e; see also 3.7.1g, 3.7.7, 3.7.8, 3.7.9) and funds for the needy state (3.7.1f). Taken together, these early sections convey a coherent sense of the positive effect of self-confidence and what it can achieve. Valerius' comment on Scipio's bold prediction of his capture of Baria in 3.7.1b portrays confidence as aiming high, and reaching into the uncertain future to achieve its aims: ‘Nothing is more noble spirited than this confidence, nothing more true than this prediction, nothing more effective than this swiftness, nothing more honourable than this honourableness’ (‘nihil hac fiducia generosius, nihil praedictione verius, nihil celeritate efficacius, nihil etiam dignitate dignius’). The chapter proceeds with eight more examples of the fiducia of Roman individuals, then two examples of the Senate's fiducia (3.7.10). A final Roman example featuring the poet Accius leads into the first group of five external examples devoted to the arts (3.7.11–3.7.ext.4), and then we return to public and military spheres with the examples of Epaminondas, Hannibal and King Cotys, rounded off with three spirited retorts from anonymous Spartans.

One motif that runs through the chapter is fiducia's rôle in enabling people to stand up to the blows of Fortune, and even to turn misfortune to their advantage. This is implicit in some of the early examples, but made explicit towards the end of the Roman section in 3.7.10b, where Valerius comments on the Senate's act in sending reinforcements to Spain: ‘To behave like this in adversity — what is this other than to convert savage fortune, conquered by shame, into one's assistant?’ (‘ita se gerere in adversis rebus quid alius est quam saevientem fortunam in adiutorium sui pudore victam convertere?’, 3.7.10b). The closing examples of the foreign section also emphasize this: Epaminondas transforms his public humiliation into a source of honour and distinction (3.7.ext.5) and the lame Spartan turns his disability into an indication of bravery on the battlefield (3.7.ext.8). Antigenidas' advice to his unsuccessful pupil in the second foreign example also pits confidence against Fortune, and uses ill fortune as a spur. Antigenidas tells him to ‘play for me and for the Muses’ and to disregard the lack of popular enthusiasm for his flute playing:

On the face of it, the chapter provides an optimistic demonstration of the power of the individual in the face of Fortune, which in fact cuts against the grain of Valerius' work where more usually, as in Roman popular morality generally, the power of Fortune is pre-eminent and mortals must resign themselves to it. Here we see the possibility of high-status individuals flourishing even as they depart from conventional moral guidelines.

However, this chapter does not simply proclaim that great men can break the rules. A common pattern in Valerius' chapters is that they start by building rather a clear and inspiring sense of a moral quality, often based on well-known and high-status heroic acts, and then proceed, in the latter part of a chapter, to give a sense of the ethical problems associated with that moral quality and the kind of ethical pitfalls the reader might like to look out for.Footnote ⁴³ In this case, there is an increasing sense that breaking the rules is problematic and one needs to be very careful, in case one misjudges what is required by a situation.Footnote ⁴⁴ The part of the chapter which particularly addresses itself to this, is that which spans the end of the Roman exempla and the beginning of the foreign section (3.7.11–3.7.ext.4), and which forms a short subsection in which every example is set in the field of the arts.

In this subsection, as I shall show, Valerius indicates the limits of fiducia and its proximity to the bad qualities of arrogance, contempt and insolence. The confident actions described are presented on the face of it as praiseworthy, but at the same time it is also made clear how close they come to wrongful behaviour, and indeed how difficult it can be to distinguish right from wrong. In particular, the section shows the same sensitivity to the requirements of individual circumstances that Cicero espouses in de Officiis and that Teresa Morgan identifies as a key feature of Roman popular morality. The key passage here is the exemplum of Accius in 3.7.11, which forms the link between the Roman political context that precedes it and the foreign artistic context that comes next. Valerius introduces his deed as having a very different setting from the previous exempla, which related acts of the Senate during the Punic wars: ‘the transition from the Senate to the poet Accius is divided by a great space’ (‘magno spatio divisus est a senatu ad poetam Accium transitus’, 3.7.11). This phrase heightens the reader's awareness of the significance of changing context. The story itself then enacts the principle that the evaluation of an act depends very closely on the specific setting in which it is performed. The setting here is the College of Poets. It is here that the poet Accius fails to show deference to his social superior Julius Caesar. Nonetheless this failure is judged to be condonable on two very specific grounds: (a) that it took place in this very specific setting and (b) that Accius' estimation of his own literary superiority is accurate.

Accius was right because, there, in that particular place — ibi — he was the superior. ‘That is why he was not accused of insolence, because in that place the competition was between scrolls of poetry and not ancestral portraits’ (‘quapropter insolentiae crimine caruit, quia ibi voluminum non imaginum certamina exercebantur’, 3.7.11). However, the same act in any other setting would have been wrong. Valerius exonerates him from any charge of insolence, but, of course, the exoneration quite plainly raises the spectre of this crimen insolentiae, and suggests that outside the College of Poets it would have been entirely applicable. It is only in this particularly location and because of the specific literary standing of the person in question that such behaviour can be interpreted favourably.

In the following example, Euripides similarly ‘does not appear arrogant either’ (‘ne Euripides quidem Athenis adrogans visus est’, 3.7.ext.1) when he tells his audience that he is accustomed to teaching them, not learning from them. Valerius claims:

In this authorial comment a boundary is drawn between confidence in oneself and insolence (and here ‘contempt’ as well) and the formulation ‘far enough’ — satis — emphasizes the arbitrary nature of the line drawn between virtue and vice and one's need to make a fine judgement about where that line should be drawn; the punning repetition of adrogans draws attention to this as well. The phrase certo pondere is particularly provocative: what is this ‘certain scale’ against which one must measure oneself? To be sure, Valerius offers no answer to this question — one that also preoccupied Seneca — about how one can tell whether one's own moral judgements are accurate.Footnote ⁴⁵ However, reading exempla is certainly one way to learn how one should measure and evaluate oneself, and an established exemplum might be posited as a ‘certain scale’ against which readers might measure themselves.

The significance of context for moral evaluation is also elaborated in this chapter in two further aspects, neither of which are flagged as explicitly as in the passages I have looked at so far. The first aspect is the presence or absence of the ‘greater good’ of the community as a broader setting for any act; this is of particular relevance to the highly structured value-system that Valerius' work espouses, with its neat division of exempla into Roman and foreign — inclusive, yet at the same time distinctly Romano-centric. The second is the issue that exemplary acts may be evaluated in hindsight, when we already know their consequences, in a way that the acts which moral agents decide to perform cannot at the moment of decision; this disparity is an inherent problem in the exemplary process since it creates an obstacle to comparing one's own situation to those of exemplary figures from history.

On the first issue, notice the dramatic shift in tone between the first Roman section containing the deeds of Scipio and the section dealing with examples from the arts that I have just discussed. In the first part of the chapter, the benefit of every act is described in terms of its benefit to the whole Roman community. In the ‘Arts’ section, there is no wider political or military context and the confidence serves no purpose beyond its own display.Footnote ⁴⁶ Valerius introduces the second anecdote about Euripides in this section (at 3.7.ext.1b) by calling his behaviour probabile (laudable). However, Euripides' reported conversation with Alcestis — a fellow playwrightFootnote ⁴⁷ — goes like this: Euripides first complains how slow his writing is going; Alcestis replies that he has been knocking out the lines with ease; Euripides responds, ‘But your lines will only last for three days, while mine shall last eternity’. The whole conversation seems entirely contrived to humiliate his fellow poet.Footnote ⁴⁸ What is the ‘moral value’ of such confidence? What does it serve beyond itself?

Valerius explains that hindsight proves Euripides emphatically right to have such faith in his own genius: ‘Since the writings of the other man, with their productive speed, fell at the first hurdle of memory, while his own works, laboriously composed with halting pen, will be borne on the full sails of glory through all eternity’ (‘alterius enim fecundi cursus scripta intra primas memoriae metas corruerunt, alterius cunctante stilo elucubratum opus per omne aevi tempus plenis gloriae velis feretur’, 3.7.ext.1b). What happened next, as laid bare by hindsight, makes all the difference to our evaluation of Euripides' ‘rightness’. At first reading, this is hardly comforting for the serious, ethically-minded reader of exempla, who is trying to work out how to translate an exemplary deed into guidance for their own behaviour. Hindsight may appear to make it easier to judge past actions — too easy in fact — but it is no help at all in assessing the rights and wrongs of decisions taken in the present, where the future consequences are unknown. Moreover, it runs counter to the message of many other Roman exempla, where good and brave men are punished for not following correct procedure even when their actions turn out to be highly beneficial to Rome.Footnote ⁴⁹ In this section the overall thrust seems to be that the consequences justify the act. The phrase comparing two of Scipio's bold deeds early in the chapter summarizes this attitude concisely: ‘no less spirited and no less successful’ (‘nec minus animosus minusve prosperus …’, 3.7.1b). That his actions are both bold and successful stands in this chapter as praise, and success is itself grounds for praise.

However, these examples are not to be read so much as telling us about the importance of literary talent or bold leadership but rather as having a nuanced message, which expands upon Cicero's Cato exemplum, about the way that great men manage the relationship between their natural characteristics and their moral choices. The reader is not invited to imitate Euripides' confidence in his own artistic genius, but to appreciate and emulate his ability to measure his own worth against a certain scale, know what behaviour is appropriate for him, and have the strength to maintain it consistently. In the terms of Cicero's four-personae theory, Euripides has made a good and well-informed choice of his fourth persona as a playwright, based on his literary talents that nature has given him in his second persona; this story shows that what really allows him to make the most of this choice is the confidence that enables him to persevere even when it is hard work, and to stand up for himself even at the risk of seeming rude and arrogant in front of a colleague; his behaviour will not necessarily make him a good person, but it makes him a good playwright and a consistent Euripides.Footnote ⁵⁰

In the real world, however, ethical choices have uncertain outcomes and involve risk-taking. Unlike the actions of exemplary heroes, the decisions made by a reader in the here and now cannot be validated by the knowledge of what their consequences will be and whether their choice of life-path will prove successful. The chapter does not spell this out; nevertheless the story of Accius sounds a warning that it is often very hard to tell what the appropriate action is, and that you may be a hair's breadth away from making a damaging mistake. As Teresa Morgan has pointed out, a recurrent concern in Roman popular morality is that if you identify with the wrong person in an exemplary tale you can end up in hot water.Footnote ⁵¹ But how do you know if you are a great man or not, or have what it takes to follow in the footsteps of a great man? In the story of Accius, the evaluation is taken out of the strictly moral sphere and into the artistic and the social spheres, as parallel situations in which such judgements are hard to make. In order to be sure he is making the right decision, Accius needs to be able to rate his literary worth accurately against that of Julius Caesar, and he needs to make an accurate judgement about how that will weigh against his relative social standing. Once again this is not merely a case of Accius deciding how to act in one particular setting; the context is his previous choice to develop his natural talents and become a poet, and his subsequent confidence in and commitment to that choice, all of which enables him to know that he is the superior of Julius Caesar. All this adds up to a set of generalizable precepts: to decide how to act in the Roman world you need a very fine moral and social sensibility,Footnote ⁵² accurate self-knowledge and a knowledge of the moral scale against which you must measure yourself, and a commitment to your chosen path.

Another message about situational variability, in somewhat cruder form, rounds off the chapter. The last sentence briefly relates the pithy response of a Spartan who is being shown the impressive defensive walls of another man's town. He retorts that the walls are ‘fine, if you built them for women; shameful, if you built them for men’ (‘si mulieribus istos comparastis, recte, si viris, turpiter’, 3.7.ext.8).Footnote ⁵³ This brief quip deploys the old cliché of comparing men to women as a straightforward insult,Footnote ⁵⁴ implying that only sissies build walls to protect themselves rather than relying on their own valour. However, by offering opposite evaluations of the act of building the walls if done for women (right) and for men (shameful), it reminds us of the need to exercise careful judgement about what can be expected of different kinds of individual. Now, we are clearly not supposed to conclude from this story that it is actually shameful to have walls protecting one's city. The Spartan's banter is triumphant, but the reader is not expected to swallow his line and believe that his stance on urban fortification is actually the more valid. Rather, the joke serves to round off the chapter with a reminder that moral acts look different from different perspectives. It is a clever witticism that requires one to look at a familiar situation from an unfamiliar angle and to give it thereby a new moral slant. It reminds us that considering a variety of moral perspectives and alternatives is the best way fully to understand the nuances of ethical issues.

IV NECESSITAS AND SITUATIONAL VARIABILITY

One of the points that Cicero makes about situational variability in the first book of de Officiis is that the circumstances brought about by necessitas (dire necessity) may have a radical effect on the moral evaluation of an act. His statement of this principle comes in a section where he is arguing that the mark of true wisdom is the ability to weigh up all the various alternatives in advance, so that you never have to say: ‘I hadn't thought of that.’Footnote ⁵⁵ The prudent person will not rule out the possibility that he may, in some circumstances, be required to act in a way that looks on the face of it as if it is wrong. Hurling oneself rashly into battle and fighting hand to hand with the enemy, for instance, is a bestial act (simile beluarum) and monstrous (immane) — but every now and then, in extreme circumstances, it is the right thing to do: ‘but when the occasion and necessity demand it, one must fight hand to hand, and death should be placed before slavery and shame’ (‘sed cum tempus necessitasque postulat, decertandum manu est et mors servituti turpitudinique anteponenda’, 1.81).Footnote ⁵⁶ Cicero ends this book, on the other hand, by stressing that there are some acts that are so grotesque that they are never acceptable under any circumstances: ‘There are some acts that are so disgusting, some that are so transgressive, that a wise man would not undertake them even to save his country’ (‘sunt enim quaedam partim ita foeda, partim ita flagitiosa, ut ea ne conservandae quidem patriae causa sapiens facturus sit’, 1.159).Footnote ⁵⁷ For Cicero, although one's obligation to the community (communitas) and the patriotic obligation to defend and preserve one's country are usually of paramount importance, they should not be placed above the obligations imposed by moderatio and modestia (1.159.)

Cicero forbears to describe here the kinds of disgusting acts that might be included in this category, saying that Posidonius — who taught Cicero in Rhodes in 78 b.c. — has collected many examples of these, but that it would be shameful to repeat them. A wise man, Cicero tells us, would not want to perform such acts for the sake of his country, but neither would his country wish him to perform such acts on its behalf.Footnote ⁵⁸ Cicero's refusal to specify any examples, and his apparently contradictory assertions about the shameful act of dancing in the forum (at 3.93), leave the reader of de Officiis unsure where the line is to be drawn when it comes to deciding which acts, precisely, are to be considered beyond the requirements of modestia. Valerius Maximus, however, in his chapter on necessitas (Val. Max. 7.6) brings together these unexplored and potentially conflicting precepts from Cicero, de Officiis, and through his choice of and comment upon exempla, goes a little further towards working through their ethical implications.

Necessitas in Valerius Maximus, like the external forces of Natura and Fortuna, is neither a virtue nor a vice, but a constraint upon human behaviour and an imposer of difficult circumstances. It is an impersonal force acting upon the lives of men with her ‘bitterest laws and cruellest commands’, as we see in Valerius' preface (‘amarissimae leges et truculentissima imperia’, 7.6.pr.).Footnote ⁵⁹ In this chapter the reader is evidently not directed to imitate or to avoid the cited exempla, but rather to re-examine certain moral assumptions about right and wrong behaviour. Necessitas is most terrible and most horrific — the extremeness and the horror emphasized by Valerius' description of it as abominandae (7.6.pr) and taeterrimae (7.6.4) and by his assertion that the deeds that necessitas forces men to perform, and which he is about to relate, are gravia even to hear about, let alone to experience. This sensitivity to the effect of speaking and hearing about such things may remind us of Cicero's squeamishness about the list of terrible acts compiled by Posidonius, but, unlike Cicero, Valerius will go on to spell out certain acts that can have no moral justification; his chapter ends by expressing his horror at, and moral censure of, the ultimate abomination — killing and eating one's own children.

Cannibalism appears regularly in Stoic thought as a test case for exploring the universal applicability of moral rules and the doctrine of ‘special circumstances’.Footnote ⁶⁰ The point is that although one might assume that a rule such as the prohibition on eating human flesh would apply to everyone at all times, in fact even a rule such as this might be relaxed in very exceptional circumstances (and specifically for a Stoic sage).Footnote ⁶¹ In this chapter Valerius also uses cannibalism — alongside stealing from temples, self-killing and self-mutilation, also themes used in Stoic debates about special circumstancesFootnote ⁶² — to represent generally unacceptable acts that might be rendered acceptable under certain circumstances. However, by the end of the chapter Valerius Maximus has shown, through a handful of stories about people who get this wrong with horrific consequences, that one needs to be very careful in assessing precisely what these circumstances might be.

As well as having the usual formal division into Roman and foreign exempla, Valerius' chapter may be thematically divided into two subsections; the first subsection (7.6.1–3) contains exempla set in the most desperate times of the Second Punic War, the second (7.6.4–7.6.ext.3) contains Roman exempla set during the Civil War and then foreign examples from three different siege situations. These two sections parallel one another, inviting comparison in such a way as to bring out the importance of context in establishing the moral value of the various acts they describe. Valerius makes this point explicitly, especially in the first of these subsections, but it is also emphasized by the very structure of the chapter. Each subsection has the same shape to it: the first exempla describe the unusual means resorted to when Rome was running out of supplies and manpower in military situations, and the final exempla of each section describe the terrible things resorted to by men driven by extremes of hunger during a siege situation. However, while the exempla in the first subsection are directed towards the defence and preservation of the Roman state, and towards the end of the section have a distinctly morally uplifting and exemplary effect,Footnote ⁶³ the stories in the second subsection, set in the morally dubious Civil War era (7.6.4–6) and then in siege situations where the attacker is Rome (7.6.ext.1–3), are able to provide no such moral reassurance, and the figures in the final example are lower than beasts in their confusing of moral priorities.

Valerius draws attention to the parallels and contrasts between these subsections at the start of 7.6.4, which opens the second subsection with the first of the Civil War exempla. This subsection describes how during the Civil War between Marius and Sulla ‘gold and silver temple ornaments were melted down so that the soldiers should not go unpaid’ (‘aurea atque argentea templorum ornamenta, ne militibus stipendia deessent, conflata sunt’, 7.6.4). This echoes the exemplum at the start of the Punic War section, where a lack of resources results in the re-using of consecrated temple ornaments: ‘Enemy spoils fixed to the temples and consecrated to the power of the gods were torn down to be used as weapons for the soldiers’ (‘spolia hostium adfixa templis, deorum numini consecrata, instrumento militiae futura convellerentur’, 7.6.1b). There is perhaps an implicit contrast here between redeploying consecrated enemy spoils, which were after all created as weapons even if they now decorate a temple, and melting down temple ornaments to make coins for pay, which has a faint evocation of avarice about it. This makes the example set in the Civil War less morally palatable than the one set in the Punic War. However, Valerius makes the compromised moral context of the era explicit with his next sarcastic comment, suggesting that the Civil War period provided a very particular sort of context, which actually drained the virtue out of any acts that were performed at that time. He has introduced this section by describing it as a time (tempus) in which ‘it was not that victory was sought for the republic, but that the republic was the prize for victory’ (‘non rei publicae victoria quaerebatur sed praemium victoriae res erat publica’),Footnote ⁶⁴ and he now retorts: ‘Since it was for an honourable cause that the immortal gods were despoiled — that both sides might sate their cruelty through the proscription of civilians!’ (‘digna enim causa erat, hine an illi crudelitatem suam proscriptione civium satierent, ut di immortales spoliarentur!’, 7.6.4). Finally, this Civil War section — and indeed the whole Roman part of the chapter — is rounded off by the claim that the imperial regime established by Augustus and under which Valerius is now writingFootnote ⁶⁵ has brought to an end desperate times such as those described, which could just about excuse the desperate acts they engendered: ‘This most bitter of storms was driven away by the guardianship of Augustus, available in those days for the protection of the earth’ (‘sed amarissimam tempestatem Augusti cura, tutelae tunc terrarum vacans, dispulit’, 7.6.6). Necessitas is thus sealed into discrete historical packets, suggesting that such circumstances do not pertain in contemporary Rome and there is no longer any excuse for atrocious acts.

The structure of the chapter, then, highlights the idea that different contexts, and especially different historical settings, lend a different moral significance to acts performed in them. The precepts that are explicitly stated in the first part of this chapter on necessitas also set out in detail the ideas about situational variability found in de Officiis. Extreme circumstances disrupt the natural order of things, meaning that quite different kinds of ethical rules apply.Footnote ⁶⁶ In some cases one must turn aside from the glorious (speciosa) path to follow the safer (tutiora) path: ‘at times the noble spirit yields to utility and gives in to the powers of fortune, when, if you don't choose the safer plan, following the glorious plan will get you struck down’ (‘cedit ergo interdum generosus spiritus utilitati et fortunae viribus succumbit, ubi, nisi tutiora consilia legeris, speciosa sequenti concidendum est’, 7.6.1).Footnote ⁶⁷ Acts performed under such circumstances look shameful if they are judged on their own merits, but viewed in context are seen to be appropriate responses to the situation: ‘These acts, if they are examined for themselves, look somewhat shameful, but if they are weighed against the forces of necessity they seem defensive action appropriate to the cruelty of the time’ (‘quae si per se aspiciantur, aliquid ruboris habeant, si autem admotis necessitatis viribus pondererentur, saevitiae temporis convenientia praesidia videantur’, 7.6.1). Acts that seem in themselves wretched and grim can actually be understood as manifestations of great and admirable virtue. Thus the recruitment of slaves, children, debtors and even convicted criminals to fight the enemy, or the refusal of the Senate to give support to its provincial allies in their hour of need, look like immoral deeds, especially where Rome does not fulfil her responsibilities at the helm of the empire. However, they are actually justified by the exigencies of the hour — the command of necessitas. In the same spirit of being brought to the most unworthy and undignified acts through necessity, the besieged inhabitants of Casilium are reduced to eating boiled leather from their shield straps (7.6.2). This exemplum may not have quite the same moral edge as the preceding ones, but it supports justificatory interpretations of the previous Roman exempla; the worthy people of Casilium were able to last out the siege because of eating the practically inedible, and likewise Rome was able reverse her fortunes and rise again to eminence through these measures that she had taken in this time of disaster. In context, all these measures are justifiable; the reader must use hindsight to make this judgement; at the time the moral agent making the decision to take such measures must rely on their own self-confidence to predict the outcome.

The final example in this series set in the Second Punic War (7.6.3) fits these precepts less well than the preceding exempla, and looks at first sight as if it has been appended because of its superficial similarities to 7.6.2. It took place ‘at the same time and during the same siege’ and also illustrates the effects of extreme hunger. However, it also introduces into the chapter the key theme of monetary inflation, which provides an analogy to the fluctuating ethical value of acts. This theme alludes to Cicero, de Officiis 2.56 (on which see below) and is also picked up again a page or so later in Val. Max. 7.6.6, the final Roman example of the chapter.

Cicero's reference to the exorbitant price of basic necessities during times of crisis is made in a context where it forms a rather neat and complicated double comparison (de Off. 2.56). The first element of the comparison is the same precept of situational variability that we find in Valerius Maximus' chapter. At first sight it would seem absolutely unbelievable if people under siege paid a mina for a pint of water. However, if you reflect, necessitas makes it pardonable: ‘If people who were besieged by an enemy were forced to buy a pint of water for a mina, at first this would seem incredible to us and everyone would be amazed, but when they thought about it, they would excuse it on grounds of necessity’ (‘qui ab hoste obsidentur, si emere aquae sextarium cogerentur mina, hoc primo incredibile nobis videri omnesque mirari, sed cum adtenderint, veniam necessitati dare’, Cic., de Off. 2.56). However, this is only a passing reference, made in the context of a discussion of extravagance, and is immediately compared to the situation in Cicero's own day where people likewise pay the most extraordinary prices for things, but out of pure extravagance rather than out of necessity, and what is more, the practice is so commonplace and widely accepted that it attracts no comment. The example of paying a mina for a pint of water is used to show that the value of goods changes with the context, just like the ethical value of behaviour. However, the comparison with his contemporary situation further suggests that changing contexts affect one's ability to evaluate behaviour effectively.Footnote ⁶⁸

Valerius' story at 7.6.3 about the selling and eating of a rat in siege conditions then refocuses attention on the other moral aspect of inflation: the behaviour of those who take advantage of times of crisis for their own selfish gain. The exemplum combines the idea of the disgusting lengths to which the starving but faithful besieged are driven with another moral message: a warning for those who seek to profit from the desperation of others. For when prices inflate this is not merely a consequence of necessitas, but requires the willingness of people to exploit the situation in order to make money from their fellow human beings. At the end of this story, the man who sells the rat is in possession of two hundred denarii, yet he dies because he has allowed himself to be driven by avarice and has valued money more highly than his own life.Footnote ⁶⁹ There is a strong warning here about the prioritization of two competing scales of value, and this sets up the reader for the ethical pay-off of the chapter that comes in the final exemplum (7.6.ext.3) where the people of Calagurris are berated for having misguidedly valued their own lives above those of their families.

The Roman section of the chapter, then, sets out the idea that extreme circumstances can drive men to extraordinary deeds which are to be interpreted differently from the way one would evaluate them under normal circumstances. Nevertheless, as in Cicero, de Officiis 1.159, this does not imply a limitless relativism, and the final exempla gathered in the foreign section of the chapter make it plain that there remain limits to what is acceptable. These foreign exempla express the idea that some acts are so degrading that not even the most extreme circumstances can excuse them, and that defeat or death (either at one's own hand or someone else's) should always be preferable. They set up situations in which apparently universal natural laws are pitted against one another: the injunction to preserve one's own life and protect one's city is in conflict with the injunction not to eat human flesh. There has once again been a distinct change of context at the start of this section; in each of these examples of siege situation the besieging enemy is Roman, and so, from a Roman point of view, the potential for a morally redeeming context is severely diminished. The acts performed by the besieged men in order to preserve their lives and not to surrender either to death or to the enemy are disgusting. In a crescendo of grotesqueness, the Cretans drink their own urine (7.6.ext.1), Numantines survive by eating human flesh (7.6.ext.2), and the men of Calagurris go so far as to kill and eat their own wives and children, and preserve the flesh in salt (7.6.ext.3). Even of the first example, which seems comparatively mild, Valerius comments that the Cretans inflicted worse on themselves than their enemy would have done had they surrendered.Footnote ⁷⁰ A similar comment is made of the captured Numantines found carrying human limbs about their persons: ‘necessity is no excuse in this case: because when people are allowed to die, there is no need to live in this way’ (‘nulla est in his necessitatis excusatio: nam quibus mori licuit, sic vivere necesse non fuit’, 7.6.ext.2). Of course, since in each case the enemy is Roman, defeat, even surrender, need scarcely be thought of as shameful at all by the Roman reader, and in addition, since history tells us that their cities were eventually captured, the barbaric act of cannibalism was in any case in vain. The Numantines are taken alive, but stripped of all human dignity, because they are caught in the act of shamefully prolonging life, and do not seem to have realized that it would have been better to die.Footnote ⁷¹

One of the themes we trace in this part of the chapter is the gradual shedding of mitigating circumstances — specifically, a greater cause for which the generous spirit must pay the price to necessitas, and which can weigh on the other side when we are assessing an act that looks at first sight unethical. The climax of the chapter is the final example in which this point is driven home: the men of Calagurris survive by wilfully destroying the very families who should have been their principal reason for wishing to live and hold out against the siege.Footnote ⁷² Valerius comments that these people have sunk lower than wild animals, since even for beasts females and children are more precious than life. Moreover the act of eating their own families sweeps away from under their feet the conventional motivation of a soldier risking his life on the battlefield. Valerius exclaims sarcastically: ‘This would inspire someone on the battlefield to fight bravely for the safety of wives and children!’ (‘en quam aliquis in acie hortaretur ut pro salute coniugum et liberorum fortiter dimicaret!’, 7.6.ext.3). The behaviour of the people in the foreign examples defeats its own purpose, since they have lost sight of what is truly valuable in life. The men of Calagurris have prioritized the injunction to preserve their own lives and protect their city over the injunction to protect their wives and children. In any case, for non-Romans the patriotic injunction is a weaker rule than it would have been for a city of Romans, since the principle of situational variability operates with respect to national difference, and, in addition, both hindsight and the cultural superiority of the Romans render their patriotism futile and misguided.

Valerius' chapter engages with the ongoing Stoic debates about whether circumstances might justify acts such as suicide and cannibalism that are strongly prohibited under normal circumstances.Footnote ⁷³ Valerius' exempla bring into play the same motifs and ethical conflicts in his consideration of the implications of situation ethics. However, by the end of the chapter the moral message conveyed by his treatment of them is somewhat different from the Stoic idea that even the strongest prohibitions may on occasion be circumvented. Valerius' message seems to be in dialogue with this Stoic doctrine of exceptional circumstances, and to send a warning that, whilst allowing for situational variability, it is vitally important to adhere to certain core principles of humanity (such as protecting one's children), and that where principles are in conflict with one another, one must think very carefully about which should take priority or else risk going badly astray. Valerius uses the shocking stories of extreme behaviour which so intrigued the Romans in other contexts tooFootnote ⁷⁴ to explore the implications and limitations of situation ethics.