Maxims of Goethe 88

I can promise to be sincere, but not to be impartial. 

James Vila Blake, Sonnets from Marcus Aurelius 29

29. 

Οἱ Πυθαγόρειοι: ἕωθεν εἰς τὸν οὐρανὸν ἀφορᾶν, ἵν̓ ὑπομιμνῃσκώμεθα τῶν ἀεὶ κατὰ τὰ αὐτὰ καὶ ὡσαύτως τὸ ἑαυτῶν ἔργον διανυόντων καὶ τῆς τάξεως καὶ τῆς καθαρότητος καὶ τῆς γυμνότητος: οὐδὲν γὰρ προκάλυμμα ἄστρου. 

The Pythagoreans bid us look up into the sky in the morning, that we may keep ourselves mindful of those hosts that always are accomplishing their work by the same course and in the same way; and that so we may know their orderly ranks and their purity and their natural openness—for no star wears a veil.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 11.27 

29. 

Pythagoras’ disciples have a creed 

Of morning’s bounden duty unto joy. 

Look up, they say, and to the expanse give heed, 

And let three lustrous thoughts thy soul employ: 

Acclaim the order and the constancy 

Of heavenly beamy bodies, each in place. 

Laud the purgation and equality 

Of matter in those fulgencies of space. 

Relish the artlessness of all those lights, 

That open to our eyes and cry us hail, 

And naught have to conceal, no hidden plights, 

But unreserved; for no star wears a veil. 

If with this homage the daily dawn we meet, 

Our path is plain, and sparkles to our feet. 

IMAGE: Fyodor Bronnikov, Pythagoreans Celebrate the Sunrise (1869) 

Delphic Maxims 97

Εὐπροσήγορος γίνου 

Be courteous 

IMAGE: Randolph Caldecott, May Day Dancing (1884) 

Cicero, Stoic Paradoxes 6.6

But why do I talk of myself, who through the contagion of fashion and of the times, am perhaps a little infected with the fault of the age? 
 
In the memory of our fathers, Manius Manilius (not to mention continually the Curii and the Luscinii) at length became poor; for he had only a little house at Carani and a farm near Labicum. Now are we, because we have greater possessions, richer men? I wish we were. 
 
But the amount of wealth is not defined by the valuation of the census, but by habit and mode of life; not to be greedy is wealth; not to be extravagant is revenue. Above all things, to be content with what we possess is the greatest and most secure of riches. 
 
If therefore they who are the most skillful valuers of property highly estimate fields and certain sites, because such estates are the least liable to injury, how much more valuable is virtue, which never can be wrested, never can be filched from us, which cannot be lost by fire or by shipwreck, and which is not alienated by the convulsions of tempest or of time, with which those who are endowed alone are rich, for they alone possess resources which are profitable and eternal; and they are the only men who, being contented with what they possess, think it sufficient, which is the criterion of riches: they hanker after nothing, they are in need of nothing, they feel the want of nothing, and they require nothing. 
 
As to the unsatiable and avaricious part of mankind, as they have possessions liable to uncertainty, and at the mercy of chance, they who are forever thirsting after more, and of whom there never was a man for whom what he had sufficed; they are so far from being wealthy and rich, that they are to be regarded as necessitous and beggared. 

—from Cicero, Stoic Paradoxes 6 
 
Like Cicero, it is easy for me to treat certain luxuries as if they were necessities, unwittingly raising the bar for a supposedly happy life. It doesn’t help how those around me are constantly trying to outdo one another, with the end result that we must now have a million-dollar home, at least two cars in the garage, and a summer vacation costing more than my grandfather earned in an entire year. 
 
All of it is driven by credit, of course, which tricks us into thinking we are getting rich, when, in fact, the banks are getting rich, as we obediently feed at their trough. 
 
Like Cicero, I also wonder if folks from the past were more temperate and frugal, but I then remember why there must be a Crassus for every Manilius in any age, and I just happen to look back at one of them with greater reverence. 
 
I would be grateful for the little house, which, as a teacher in Catholic schools, is at this point completely beyond my means, but I have absolutely no urge to boss other workers on some farm. Perhaps that would change if you tempted me with prosperity, which only goes to show why riches can have a way of numbing us to what is essential in life. 
 
Once again, however, it is never the money itself that is the problem, for the man who attends first to the cultivation of his conscience will thrive as either a prince or a pauper. 
 
What first struck me so profoundly about Stoicism was its insistence on a radically different set of priorities, one that so many other philosophers would praise in theory, but so often failed to apply in practice. True riches are in the disposition of the soul, regardless of the accessories, and our daily habits should reflect that dignity. 
 
When I continue to doubt this truth, I can remind myself why virtue is always more reliable than fortune. Despite our conniving, the circumstances will unfold on their own terms, and even when they seem to coincide with our desires, we remain forever at their mercy. 
 
We are kidding ourselves when we say that we have “earned” some worldly reward, because the choices of others, and the subtle workings of fate, which will usually appear as random to our clouded vision, are far beyond our power. 
 
No, I am at my best when I put my trust in my own character, which alone remains for me to determine. Though an enemy may take my property, or my comforts, or my reputation, or even my very life, he has no authority over my judgments, unless I have already decided to surrender them. For all the pain another might inflict, it pales in comparison to the harm I inflict upon myself once I abandon my nature. 
 
I should not blame a man for being rich, or even for being greedy. Let me find joy in attending to my own virtues, which is the only way I can encourage him to help himself. The greatest wealth lies within. 

—Reflection written in 5/1999 

IMAGE: Franco-Flemish School, Temperance (c. 1780) 

The Darkling Thursh

"The Darkling Thrush" 

Thomas Hardy (1840-1928) 

I leant upon a coppice gate

      When Frost was spectre-grey,

And Winter's dregs made desolate

      The weakening eye of day.

The tangled bine-stems scored the sky

      Like strings of broken lyres,

And all mankind that haunted nigh

      Had sought their household fires.

The land's sharp features seemed to be

      The Century's corpse outleant,

His crypt the cloudy canopy,

      The wind his death-lament.

The ancient pulse of germ and birth

      Was shrunken hard and dry,

And every spirit upon earth

      Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among

      The bleak twigs overhead

In a full-hearted evensong

      Of joy illimited;

An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,

      In blast-beruffled plume,

Had chosen thus to fling his soul

      Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings

      Of such ecstatic sound

Was written on terrestrial things

      Afar or nigh around,

That I could think there trembled through

      His happy good-night air

Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew

      And I was unaware. 

The Fall of Babylon

John Martin, The Fall of Babylon (1831) 

Mutability

"Mutability" 

William Wordsworth (1770-1850) 

From low to high doth dissolution climb,

And sink from high to low, along a scale

Of awful notes, whose concord shall not fail;

A musical but melancholy chime,

Which they can hear who meddle not with crime,

Nor avarice, nor over-anxious care.

Truth fails not; but her outward forms that bear

The longest date do melt like frosty rime,

That in the morning whitened hill and plain

And is no more; drop like the tower sublime

Of yesterday, which royally did wear

His crown of weeds, but could not even sustain

Some casual shout that broke the silent air,

Or the unimaginable touch of Time. 

IMAGE: Johann Heinrich Schönfeld, Allegory of Time (c. 1640) 

In the Alpine High Valley

Carl Spitzweg, In the Alpine High Valley (c. 1871) 

Hymn to the Night

"Hymn to the Night" 

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882) 

Aspasie, trillistos. 

I heard the trailing garments of the Night 

      Sweep through her marble halls! 

I saw her sable skirts all fringed with light 

      From the celestial walls! 

I felt her presence, by its spell of might, 

      Stoop o'er me from above; 

The calm, majestic presence of the Night, 

      As of the one I love. 

I heard the sounds of sorrow and delight, 

      The manifold, soft chimes, 

That fill the haunted chambers of the Night, 

      Like some old poet's rhymes. 

From the cool cisterns of the midnight air 

      My spirit drank repose; 

The fountain of perpetual peace flows there— 

      From those deep cisterns flows. 

O holy Night! from thee I learn to bear 

      What man has borne before! 

Thou layest thy finger on the lips of Care, 

      And they complain no more. 

Peace! Peace! Orestes-like I breathe this prayer! 

      Descend with broad-winged flight, 

The welcome, the thrice-prayed for, the most fair, 

      The best-beloved Night! 

IMAGE: Jean-Francois Millet, Starry Night (1865)

Cicero, Stoic Paradoxes 6.5

Immortal gods! Men are not aware how great a revenue is parsimony; for I now proceed to speak of extravagant men, I take my leave of the money-hunter. 
 
The revenue one man receives from his estate is six hundred sestertia; I receive one hundred from mine. 
 
To that man who has gilded roofs and marble pavements in his villas, and who unboundedly covets statues, pictures, vestments, and furniture, his income is insufficient, not only for his expenditure, but even for the payment of his interest; while there will be some surplus even from my slender income, through cutting off the expenses of voluptuousness. 
 
Which, then, is the richer, he who has a deficit, or he who has a surplus? He who is in need, or he who abounds? The man whose estate, the greater it is, requires the more to sustain it, or whose estate maintains itself by its own resources? 

—from Cicero, Stoic Paradoxes 6 
 
It might seem reasonable to propose that a lesser income would intensify our wants, while a greater income would relieve us of our wants, and yet we are rarely so reasonable when it comes to our desire for wealth. For far too many of us, an increase in our earnings will actually stimulate our greed, while just a very few of us, those who dare to look beyond the trappings, simply learn to be satisfied with less. 
 
As the say, he who has much wants much, to which we may also add the reverse, that he who has little needs little. I once heard an economist describing this as lifestyle inflation, and a psychologist as the hedonistic treadmill, but behind it all is a basic truth of philosophy, so fittingly embraced by the Stoics, and so succinctly expressed by Seneca: "It is not the man who has too little, but the man who craves more, that is poor." 
 
This can only begin to make sense once we make the quantity of our fortune subservient to the quality of our character. If, on the other hand, we continue to equate our blessings with our comforts, we will constantly be chasing after the next level of gratification, failing to see why the gifts of our human nature are already complete and self-sufficient. If I cannot find happiness with being myself, how can a diversion with trinkets fill the hole inside of me? 
 
I have never been rich, and I don’t imagine I will ever be, but even I have grown tired with some amusement, and then assumed that I must get myself an even fancier amusement. While I wonder how I can get my hands on a new book or record, my neighbor dreams of owning a boat, and the tycoon in his penthouse schemes about buying out his fifth company. At whatever the level, it won’t end until we redefine our source of the good. 
 
“But that guy has millions of dollars! And I can barely afford the roof over my head or the food on my table!” 
 
What makes you think there are no strings attached to his millions of dollars? If he is so lucky, why is his life in such a frenzy? And if you are at peace in your soul, what more does your body need than a cozy nook and a full belly? 

—Reflection written in 5/1999 

IMAGE: Quentin Matsys, The Usurers (1520) 

Plutarch, The Life of Cato the Younger 30

And now Pompey returned with great prestige from his expedition,⁠ and since the splendor and warmth of his reception led him to believe that he could get whatever he wanted from his fellow citizens, he sent forward a demand that the senate postpone the consular elections, in order that he might be present in person and assist Piso in making his canvass. 

The majority of the senators were inclined to yield. Cato, however, who did not regard the postponement as the chief matter at issue, but wished to cut short the attempt and the expectations of Pompey, opposed the measure and changed the opinions of the senators, so that they rejected it. 

This disturbed Pompey not a little, and considering that Cato would be a great stumbling block in his way unless he were made a friend, he sent for Munatius, Cato's companion, and asked the elder of Cato's two marriageable nieces to wife for himself, and the younger for his son. Some say, however, that it was not for Cato's nieces, but for his daughters, that the suit was made. 

When Munatius brought this proposal to Cato and his wife and sisters, the women were overjoyed at thought of the alliance, in view of the greatness and high repute of Pompey; Cato, however, without pause or deliberation, but stung to the quick, said at once:

"Go, Munatius, go, and tell Pompey that Cato is not to be captured by way of the women's apartments, although he highly prizes Pompey's good will, and if Pompey does justice will grant him a friendship more to be relied upon than any marriage connection; but he will not give hostages for the glory of Pompey to the detriment of his country." 

At these words the women were vexed, and Cato's friends blamed his answer as both rude and overbearing. 

Afterwards, however, in trying to secure the consul­ship for one of his friends,⁠ Pompey sent money to the tribes, and the bribery was notorious, since the sums for it were counted out in his gardens. 

Accordingly, when Cato told the women that he must of necessity have shared in the disgrace of such transactions, they admitted that he had taken better counsel in rejecting the alliance.⁠ 

However, if we are to judge by the results, it would seem that Cato was wholly wrong in not accepting the marriage connection, instead of allowing Pompey to turn to Caesar and contract a marriage which united the power of the two men, nearly overthrew the Roman state, and destroyed the constitution. 

None of these things perhaps would have happened, had not Cato been so afraid of the slight transgressions of Pompey as to allow him to commit the greatest of all, and add his power to that of another. 

Justus Lipsius, On Constancy 1.17

We come to that necessity which is of destiny. First destiny itself avouched. That there has been a general consent therein of the common people and wise men; but different in part. How many ways destiny has been taken among the ancients.

Thus spoke Langius, and with his talk caused the tears to trickle down my cheeks; so clearly seemed he to behold the vanity of human affairs. 

With that lifting up my voice, "Alas," said I, "what are we or all these matters for which we thus toil? What is it to be somebody? Man is a shadow and a dream, as says the poet." 

Then spoke Langius to me, "But you, young man, do not only contemplate on these things, but condemn them. Imprint constancy in your mind amid this casual and inconstant variableness of all things. I call it inconstant in respect of our understanding and judgment; for that if you look unto God and his Providence, all things succeed in a steady and immovable order. 

"Now I cast aside my sword and come to my engines; neither will I any longer assault sorrow with handy weapons but with great ordnance, running against it with the strong and terrible ram which no power of man is able to put back nor policy to prevent. This place is somewhat slippery, yet I will enter into it, but warily, slowly, and, as the Grecians speak, with a quiet foot.

"And first that there is a kind of fatal destiny in things, I think neither yourself, Lipsius, nor any people or age has ever doubted of."

Here I interrupting him said, "I pray you pardon me if I hinder you a little in this course. What? Do you oppose destiny unto me? Alas, this is but a weak engine pushed on by the feeble Stoics. I tell you plainly I care not a rush for the destinies nor the ladies of them. And I say with the soldier in Plautus, I will scatter this troupe of old wives with one blast of breath, even as the wind does the leaves." 

Langius looking sternly on me, "Will you so rashly and unadvisedly," said he, "delude or deny utterly destiny? You are not able, except if you can at once take away the divine Godhead and the power thereof, for, if there be a God, there is also Providence; if it, a decree and order of things, and of that follows a firm and sure necessity of events. 

"How do you avoid this blow? Or with what axe will you cut off this chain? For God and that eternal spirit may not otherwise be considered of by us, than that we attribute unto it an eternal knowledge and foresight. We must acknowledge him to be stayed, resolute and immutable, always one, and like himself, not wavering or varying in those things which once he willed and foresaw. For the eternal God never changes his mind, says Homer. 

"Which if you confess to be true, as indeed you must if there be in you any reason or sense, this also must be allowed that all God's decrees are firm and immovable even from everlasting unto all eternity; of this grows necessity, and that same destiny which you deride. The truth whereof is so clear and commonly received, that there was never any opinion current among all nations. And whosoever had any light of God himself and his Providence, had the like of destiny. 

"The most ancient and wisest poet Homer, believe me, traced his divine muse in none other path than this of destiny. Neither did the other poets, his progeny, stray from the steps of their father. See Euripides, Sophocles, Pindar, and among the Latins Virgil. 

"Shall I speak of historiographers? This is the voice of them all, that such and such a thing came to pass by destiny, and that by destiny kingdoms are either established or subverted. 

"Would you hear the philosophers, whose chief care was to find out and defend the truth against the common people? As they jarred in many things through an ambitious desire of disputing, so it is a wonder to see how they agreed universally upon the entrance into this way which leads to destiny. 

"I say in the entrance of that way, because I do not deny that they follow some by pathways which may be reduced into these four kinds of destiny, namely, mathematical, natural, violent, and true. All of which I will expound briefly, only touching them a little, because from such matters commonly grows confusion and error." 

IMAGE: Alexander Rothaug, The Three Fates (c. 1910)