He also shows how advanced his feelings were by depicting the wickedness and debasing nature of revenge and cruelty. He paints in beautiful language the opposite virtue. Yet, lest he should seem to forget his Stoicism altogether, he draws a nice distinction between clemency (clementia) and compassion (misericordia). He ascribes to the former, however, nearly all that we ascribe to the latter, except the outward manifestation of sympathy. There must be an apparent Stoicism veiling real humanity. He calls cruelty proceeding from revenge “An evil in no degree human, and unworthy therefore of a gentle mind. It is a madness like that of wild beasts, to delight in blood and wounds, and, manhood being laid aside, to change into a brute.” (_De Clem._ I. 24.) “As he is not the large minded man, who is liberal of another’s property; but he who deprives himself of what he gives to another: so I will call him clement, not who is easy under another person’s wrong, but who does not break out, when spurred on by his personal feelings; who understands that it is the attribute of a great mind to suffer injuries though possessed of the fullest power to avenge them.” (_De Clem._ I. 20.) “I know that the Stoic sect are in bad repute among the inexperienced, as being too harsh, and inclined to give advice which is far from good to princes and kings. It is objected against the sect that it says the wise man should not be compassionate, should not forgive. These, if taken by themselves, are hateful doctrines; for they seem to leave no hope to human errors, but to bring every fault to punishment. But if this be a true report, what is this system of knowledge but one which commands us to unlearn humanity, and shuts a most certain door against mutual help in misfortune? Yet there is no sect kinder or more gentle, none more loving of men, and more attentive to the common good: as it is a principle with us to provide for being of use, or to afford help, not only where self is concerned, but to all and to each. Compassion (misericordia) is an unquiet of the mind (ægritudo animi) from the sight of others’ miseries; or a sadness contracted from the misfortunes of others, which one believes to have fallen on those who did not deserve them. Now unquiet does not come to the wise man; his mind is calm, nor can anything happen to overthrow it: and nothing but magnanimity becomes him. But the same man cannot be magnanimous whom fear and sorrow assail, whose mind these feelings overthrow and contract. To the wise man this does not happen even in his own calamities; but he will, on the contrary, beat back all the anger of fortune and break it before him. He will always preserve the same countenance, calm and undisturbed; which he could not do, if he gave way to sadness. Therefore he is not compassionate, because this cannot be without misery: all other things which those do who are compassionate, he does willingly and in another frame of mind.