M. Here are many words to express that by so many different forms which we call by the single word evil.
You are defining pain, instead of removing it, when you say, it is disagreeable, unnatural, scarcely possible to be endured or borne, nor are you wrong in saying so: but the man who vaunts himself in such a manner should not give way in his conduct, if it be true that nothing is good but what is honest, and nothing evil but what is disgraceful. This would be wishing, not proving.
This argument is a better one, and has more truth in it—that all things which Nature abhors are to be looked upon as evil; that those which she approves of are to be considered as good.
For when this is admitted, and the dispute about words removed, that which they with reason embrace, and which we call honest, right, becoming, and sometimes include under the general name of virtue, appears so far superior to everything else that all other things which are looked upon as the gifts of fortune, or the good things of the body, seem trifling and insignificant; and no evil whatever, nor all the collective body of evils together, appears to be compared to the evil of infamy.
Wherefore, if, as you granted in the beginning, infamy is worse than pain, pain is certainly nothing; for while it appears to you base and unmanly to groan, cry out, lament, or faint under pain; while you cherish notions of probity, dignity, honor, and, keeping your eye on them, refrain yourself, pain will certainly yield to virtue, and, by the influence of imagination, will lose its whole force—for you must either admit that there is no such thing as virtue, or you must despise every kind of pain.
Will you allow of such a virtue as prudence, without which no virtue whatever can even be conceived? What, then? Will that suffer you to labor and take pains to no purpose? Will temperance permit you to do anything to excess? Will it be possible for justice to be maintained by one who through the force of pain discovers secrets, or betrays his confederates, or deserts many duties of life? Will you act in a manner consistently with courage, and its attendants, greatness of soul, resolution, patience, and contempt for all worldly things?
Can you hear yourself called a great man when you lie groveling, dejected, and deploring your condition with a lamentable voice; no one would call you even a man while in such a condition. You must therefore either abandon all pretensions to courage, or else pain must be put out of the question.
You are defining pain, instead of removing it, when you say, it is disagreeable, unnatural, scarcely possible to be endured or borne, nor are you wrong in saying so: but the man who vaunts himself in such a manner should not give way in his conduct, if it be true that nothing is good but what is honest, and nothing evil but what is disgraceful. This would be wishing, not proving.
This argument is a better one, and has more truth in it—that all things which Nature abhors are to be looked upon as evil; that those which she approves of are to be considered as good.
For when this is admitted, and the dispute about words removed, that which they with reason embrace, and which we call honest, right, becoming, and sometimes include under the general name of virtue, appears so far superior to everything else that all other things which are looked upon as the gifts of fortune, or the good things of the body, seem trifling and insignificant; and no evil whatever, nor all the collective body of evils together, appears to be compared to the evil of infamy.
Wherefore, if, as you granted in the beginning, infamy is worse than pain, pain is certainly nothing; for while it appears to you base and unmanly to groan, cry out, lament, or faint under pain; while you cherish notions of probity, dignity, honor, and, keeping your eye on them, refrain yourself, pain will certainly yield to virtue, and, by the influence of imagination, will lose its whole force—for you must either admit that there is no such thing as virtue, or you must despise every kind of pain.
Will you allow of such a virtue as prudence, without which no virtue whatever can even be conceived? What, then? Will that suffer you to labor and take pains to no purpose? Will temperance permit you to do anything to excess? Will it be possible for justice to be maintained by one who through the force of pain discovers secrets, or betrays his confederates, or deserts many duties of life? Will you act in a manner consistently with courage, and its attendants, greatness of soul, resolution, patience, and contempt for all worldly things?
Can you hear yourself called a great man when you lie groveling, dejected, and deploring your condition with a lamentable voice; no one would call you even a man while in such a condition. You must therefore either abandon all pretensions to courage, or else pain must be put out of the question.
—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 2.13
I do my best to present my words as precisely as I can, and yet I also know how readily my pride can drag me into pointless debates about petty technicalities. What use is the letter without the spirit?
Should I be calling something good or evil in a narrow sense, as Zeno would, so as to reserve genuine benefit or harm only to what is essential for our human nature? Or should I be calling something good or evil in a broader sense, as Cicero would, so as to affirm the real effect events have upon the passions? I do wonder to what extent these two views are merely talking past one another.
To avoid going on for pages and pages right now, I limit myself to focusing on a possible distinction between hurt and harm. The former is unpleasant, often deeply so, and I do not prefer it. The latter is of damage to my very identity, and I avoid it above all else. The lesser is relative to the greater, the goods of the body given meaning by the goods of the soul.
Despite any theoretical subtleties about the scope of evil, Cicero offers a markedly practical solution. Admit, at the very least, that pain is an irksome burden, but now also view it within the context of far more fulfilling achievements. When I truly understand how little is lost through the one, and how much is gained from the others, I will hardly give any thought to avoiding pain at the expense of virtue.
Like the merchant who sold everything else he owned when he came across the pearl of great price, the prudent man perceives a hierarchy of goods, and he does not hesitate to act upon that insight.
If I were the sort of man who loved riches, I would never grab at a penny if I could get my hands on the Great Star of Africa.
I do my best to present my words as precisely as I can, and yet I also know how readily my pride can drag me into pointless debates about petty technicalities. What use is the letter without the spirit?
Should I be calling something good or evil in a narrow sense, as Zeno would, so as to reserve genuine benefit or harm only to what is essential for our human nature? Or should I be calling something good or evil in a broader sense, as Cicero would, so as to affirm the real effect events have upon the passions? I do wonder to what extent these two views are merely talking past one another.
To avoid going on for pages and pages right now, I limit myself to focusing on a possible distinction between hurt and harm. The former is unpleasant, often deeply so, and I do not prefer it. The latter is of damage to my very identity, and I avoid it above all else. The lesser is relative to the greater, the goods of the body given meaning by the goods of the soul.
Despite any theoretical subtleties about the scope of evil, Cicero offers a markedly practical solution. Admit, at the very least, that pain is an irksome burden, but now also view it within the context of far more fulfilling achievements. When I truly understand how little is lost through the one, and how much is gained from the others, I will hardly give any thought to avoiding pain at the expense of virtue.
Like the merchant who sold everything else he owned when he came across the pearl of great price, the prudent man perceives a hierarchy of goods, and he does not hesitate to act upon that insight.
If I were the sort of man who loved riches, I would never grab at a penny if I could get my hands on the Great Star of Africa.
If I were the sort of man who sought fame, I would quickly cancel a gig at the local pub for the chance to play Wembley Stadium.
If I were the sort of man who wallowed in luxury, I would pass over a large pot of porridge for a tiny jar of Beluga caviar.
And if I were wise enough to really know what life is about, I would shrug at any of those silly things to have a single chance at acting with an integrity of character. The contest wouldn’t even be close.
The contrast would be so obvious, the divide so vast, that it would be something like the awe we feel when they compare the scale of distances on our earth to those in our solar system, and then in turn compare the scale of distances in our solar system to those in our galaxy.
In other words, a pain placed next to a vice would be so small that it would appear as if it were nothing at all.
Yes, some people will laugh at such claims, but it will only be those people who have never taken the time to engage in careful judgment, and so they remain slaves to gratification.
Where I follow prudence, no effort will be too taxing. Where I give myself to temperance, I won’t foolishly assume that more is better. Where I seek justice, disposing of my neighbor is not an option. Where I embrace courage, fears may rise up, though they will not overwhelm me.
How funny, and how marvelous, that Zeno and Cicero honor the same qualities of living, despite the disagreements in the finer points of their thinking.
And if I were wise enough to really know what life is about, I would shrug at any of those silly things to have a single chance at acting with an integrity of character. The contest wouldn’t even be close.
The contrast would be so obvious, the divide so vast, that it would be something like the awe we feel when they compare the scale of distances on our earth to those in our solar system, and then in turn compare the scale of distances in our solar system to those in our galaxy.
In other words, a pain placed next to a vice would be so small that it would appear as if it were nothing at all.
Yes, some people will laugh at such claims, but it will only be those people who have never taken the time to engage in careful judgment, and so they remain slaves to gratification.
Where I follow prudence, no effort will be too taxing. Where I give myself to temperance, I won’t foolishly assume that more is better. Where I seek justice, disposing of my neighbor is not an option. Where I embrace courage, fears may rise up, though they will not overwhelm me.
How funny, and how marvelous, that Zeno and Cicero honor the same qualities of living, despite the disagreements in the finer points of their thinking.
—Reflection written in 7/1996
IMAGE: Domenico Fetti, Parable of the Pearl of Great Price (c. 1620)
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