. . . I shall make whatever befalls me
become a good thing, but I prefer that what befalls me should be comfortable
and pleasant, and unlikely to cause me annoyance. For you need not suppose that
any virtue exists without labor, but some virtues need spurs, while others need
the curb.
As we have to check our body on a
downward path, and to urge it to climb a steep one, so also the path of some
virtues leads downhill, that of others uphill.
Can we doubt that patience, courage,
constancy, and all the other virtues that have to meet strong opposition, and
to trample Fortune under their feet, are climbing, struggling, and winning their
way up a steep ascent?
Why! Is it not equally evident that
generosity, moderation, and gentleness glide easily downhill? With the latter
we must hold in our spirit, lest it run away with us, with the former we must
urge and spur it on.
We ought, therefore, to apply these
energetic, combative virtues to poverty, and to riches those other more thrifty
ones that trip lightly along, and merely support their own weight. This being
the distinction between them, I would rather have to deal with those that I can
practice in comparative quiet, than those that can only be a trial trial
through blood and sweat.
"Wherefore," says the sage,
"I do not talk one way and live another, but you do not rightly understand
what I say. The sound of my words alone reaches your ears, but you do not try
to find out their meaning."
—Seneca
the Younger, On the happy life,
Chapter 25 (tr Stewart)
Sometimes
I need to push myself forward, and sometimes I need to hold myself back. Virtue
always consists in the mean or balance between too little and too much, and will
therefore need either drive or restraint to find the mark.
I
understand Seneca’s point immediately, because it is a common pattern. Just as
it is easier to go downhill than it is to go uphill, there is less effort in withholding
force than applying more. Now some virtues demand that we drive ourselves on,
and others that we rein ourselves in. Fortitude, for example, requires that we
push forward, while temperance requires that we pull back.
This can
also apply to having greater or lesser gifts of fortune. Having more and
spending less is a far easier thing than having less and acquiring more. A
preference for the former should make perfect sense.
Here I
confront a difficulty, though it has far less to do with the truth of Seneca’s
general observation that the quirks of my own temperament. Aristotle argued
that while the mean of virtue tends to be similar for all of us, the mean for a
certain individual might rest in a rather different place, depending on
disposition or habit. If I am already a forceful person, fortitude may require
me to curb myself from recklessness rather than spur myself out of cowardice.
If I am already satisfied with too little, temperance may require me to spur
myself out of self-denial rather than curb myself from gluttony.
Now
Seneca has repeatedly argued that wealth is preferable to poverty, because it
is better to work with more than with less, and as a rule he is quite right.
Yet I have found that my personal tendencies often seem to work in the opposite
way. This isn’t because Seneca has it backwards, because, as Aristotle said,
there will be exceptions on both sides of what is most common. I suspect I’m
the one who has it a bit backwards.
I regularly
find it harder to restrain myself from excess and easier to drive myself out of
deficiency. When more is given to me, I usually make less of it, and when less
is given to me, I have better success at making more of it. This hardly means I
enjoy having less, but I meet a far greater resistance when I have more.
Some
horses are easier to rein in and other horses are easier to drive on. I am that
second kind of horse. I am happier with the wind in my face than at my back.
Perhaps
if someone is already bit more practiced in virtue, someone like a Seneca, pulling
back is easier than pushing forward. I am still a beginner, and work best when
I struggle through something. Hopefully when I have found my right balance, I
can start coasting instead of climbing. Right now, I will tend to fall flat on
my face when I go downhill.
Written in 6/2004
Image: John Vanderbank, A Young Gentleman Riding a Schooled Horse (c. 1728)
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