Musonius Rufus, Lectures 2.3

For take the common man; when asked whether he is stupid or intelligent, not one will confess to being stupid; or again, when asked whether he is just or unjust, not one will say that he is unjust.

In the same way, if one asks him whether he is temperate or intemperate, he replies at once that he is temperate; and finally, if one asks whether he is good or bad, he would say that he is good, even though he can name no teacher of virtue or mention any study or practice of virtue he has ever made. 

Our instincts and inclinations can be fascinating things, playing themselves out in ways we are not always aware of.

It took me some time to recognize that a certain sharpness was simply a sign that my wife was hungry, and that it was thoughtless of me to overlook this. It took her some time to recognize that a certain silence was simply a sign that I was frustrated with a problem, and that I was now prone to becoming angry. Learning about such quirks helped us to understand one another better, and so to improve ourselves.

The passions are drawn to pleasure, and they shy away from pain. Just as the plant may turn to the sunlight, or the mouse may hide from the cat, or the dog may drool at the sight and smell of a steak, so I too will feel desire for some things and aversion to others.

At the level of my body, I am not all that different from a plant or an animal, perhaps more refined in degree but quite the same in kind. But if my body is inclined to want food, and warmth, and comfort, toward what is my soul inclined? As with all things, I must only consider its nature.

My reason is made to understand, and from this my will is made to choose. This is why the mind is the ruling principle, that which can judge the meaning and purpose in other things. Through it, I am not only moved to act, but I can decide to act, knowing why it is right for me to do so.

And even when I am not thinking as clearly as I could, or not choosing to reflect on the merit of what I am doing, my very identity as a human being is disposed toward wisdom and virtue. It is precisely what I am here for, and every fiber of me longs for it, as much I might ignore that truth or turn away from that good. Like they say, fish gotta swim, and birds gotta fly . . . and every one of us can’t help but want virtue.

While we may not know right then and there how to do it, or even precisely what it is we are longing for, that still remains the emptiness we wish to fill. The inclination is at work all of the time, whether waking or sleeping, whether we are looking right at it or stubbornly looking away. It isn’t something that comes from outside of us, but something that is from the inside of what we are.

The end is living well, not just living, and the biggest part of being on this earth is figuring out what that means.

One way to grasp this is to observe how we genuinely wish to think of ourselves as being good. People will regularly say that they are not gifted at this or that ability, like having a knack for numbers, or possessing an ability for producing art, or being talented at football, yet they are far less likely to admit that they are morally flawed. This rubs us the wrong way, perhaps because we instinctively know that this is what ultimately defines us, what makes or breaks us.

Though the cardinal virtues are currently not in common parlance, it still troubles us quite deeply to consider that we might lack them. Tell me that I would make a terrible lawyer, or doctor, or accountant, and I will gladly agree with you. Tell me, however, that I am ignorant instead of thoughtful, cowardly instead of brave, gluttonous instead of temperate, or selfish instead of fair, and I will be tempted to take offense.

Why should this bother me? If I am brutally honest with myself, I know that I am often far from the mark when it comes to virtue. Still, I am also aware that it is not just a skill, one among many that I might have; it is the only skill that I need to have. Talents, or trades, or hobbies can come and go, particular to one man or another, while virtue is necessary, universal for all men.

I know that my character is the fullest expression of my humanity, and I know that the value of anything else will depend on that. That inclination always remains within me, though I may never have bothered to become fully conscious of it.

Written in 4/1999