What then is good? The knowledge of things.
What is evil? The lack of knowledge of things.
Your wise man, who is also a craftsman, will reject or choose in each case as it suits the occasion; but he does not fear that which he rejects, nor does he admire that which he chooses, if only he has a stout and unconquerable soul.
I forbid you to be cast down or depressed. It is not enough if you do not shrink from work; ask for it.
"But," you say, "is not trifling and superfluous work, and work that has been inspired by ignoble causes, a bad sort of work?"
No; no more than that which is expended upon noble endeavors, since the very quality that endures toil and rouses itself to hard and uphill effort, is of the spirit, which says: "Why do you grow slack? It is not the part of a man to fear sweat."
And besides this, in order that virtue may be perfect, there should be an even temperament and a scheme of life that is consistent with itself throughout; and this result cannot be attained without knowledge of things, and without the art which enables us to understand things human and things divine.
That is the greatest good. If you seize this good, you begin to be the associate of the gods, and not their suppliant.
What is evil? The lack of knowledge of things.
Your wise man, who is also a craftsman, will reject or choose in each case as it suits the occasion; but he does not fear that which he rejects, nor does he admire that which he chooses, if only he has a stout and unconquerable soul.
I forbid you to be cast down or depressed. It is not enough if you do not shrink from work; ask for it.
"But," you say, "is not trifling and superfluous work, and work that has been inspired by ignoble causes, a bad sort of work?"
No; no more than that which is expended upon noble endeavors, since the very quality that endures toil and rouses itself to hard and uphill effort, is of the spirit, which says: "Why do you grow slack? It is not the part of a man to fear sweat."
And besides this, in order that virtue may be perfect, there should be an even temperament and a scheme of life that is consistent with itself throughout; and this result cannot be attained without knowledge of things, and without the art which enables us to understand things human and things divine.
That is the greatest good. If you seize this good, you begin to be the associate of the gods, and not their suppliant.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 31
I must remember that the good is not in my ownership of a thing, nor is it merely in whatever feeling I may be having at the moment. I am certainly a creature of passion, and it is right for me to feel with great intensity, yet this must always be conjoined with a sound understanding—it is through my awareness of the nature within a thing that its good is revealed to me.
This is why Socrates argued that virtue is grounded in wisdom, for action must be ordered by a knowledge of the reasons why. By extension, vice is a consequence of ignorance, for action without aim will miss its mark.
My reflections on consciousness are likely too obscure for most people, but I cannot help suggesting that we should consider the mind as far more than a storehouse of images or impressions. Rather, it is by means of the intellect that the very identity of things is united to our own, and so the form “out there” is now received “in here”. In such a joining, the many parts of Nature are revealed to be of a whole.
By grasping how the pieces are made to fit, the wise man is indeed like a craftsman who is intimately familiar with his materials. Everything that comes to him is of use to him for finding a benefit, both for himself and others. He does not run away from his circumstances, just as he does not permit himself to consumed by a longing for them, because he knows what they are about, and he knows what he is about.
Recall that work is not to be sought for its own sake, when it simply becomes drudgery, but rather gains its worth from the end toward which it is directed. Accordingly, the Stoic is not lazy at all, though he is careful to focus his actions prudently. While some people will only exert themselves when they perceive a sufficient compensation in fortune or glory, the Stoic will find no work to be beneath him, as long as it provides him the opportunity to act with integrity and conviction.
A dirty job, in the company of questionable people, can still be an occasion for understanding and love, and so it remains worthy. The Stoic gains incredible endurance and resilience from the very act of fortitude itself, asking for no other reward. Do you wonder how he can be so strong? It is precisely because he isn’t motivated by the prospect of a paycheck or a promotion, looking only to improve his soul.
In this way, I am gradually learning to take the pain from a strenuous effort and transform it into an inspiration for growth. Like the athlete or the artist, I can directly observe the slow but steady progress, even though my own work is hardly as glorious as theirs. Almost any occupation at all, however humble or grueling, increase the scope of our awareness and builds up our appreciation for the order of Nature.
While ignorance makes us lower than the beasts, knowledge brings us closer to the gods.
I must remember that the good is not in my ownership of a thing, nor is it merely in whatever feeling I may be having at the moment. I am certainly a creature of passion, and it is right for me to feel with great intensity, yet this must always be conjoined with a sound understanding—it is through my awareness of the nature within a thing that its good is revealed to me.
This is why Socrates argued that virtue is grounded in wisdom, for action must be ordered by a knowledge of the reasons why. By extension, vice is a consequence of ignorance, for action without aim will miss its mark.
My reflections on consciousness are likely too obscure for most people, but I cannot help suggesting that we should consider the mind as far more than a storehouse of images or impressions. Rather, it is by means of the intellect that the very identity of things is united to our own, and so the form “out there” is now received “in here”. In such a joining, the many parts of Nature are revealed to be of a whole.
By grasping how the pieces are made to fit, the wise man is indeed like a craftsman who is intimately familiar with his materials. Everything that comes to him is of use to him for finding a benefit, both for himself and others. He does not run away from his circumstances, just as he does not permit himself to consumed by a longing for them, because he knows what they are about, and he knows what he is about.
Recall that work is not to be sought for its own sake, when it simply becomes drudgery, but rather gains its worth from the end toward which it is directed. Accordingly, the Stoic is not lazy at all, though he is careful to focus his actions prudently. While some people will only exert themselves when they perceive a sufficient compensation in fortune or glory, the Stoic will find no work to be beneath him, as long as it provides him the opportunity to act with integrity and conviction.
A dirty job, in the company of questionable people, can still be an occasion for understanding and love, and so it remains worthy. The Stoic gains incredible endurance and resilience from the very act of fortitude itself, asking for no other reward. Do you wonder how he can be so strong? It is precisely because he isn’t motivated by the prospect of a paycheck or a promotion, looking only to improve his soul.
In this way, I am gradually learning to take the pain from a strenuous effort and transform it into an inspiration for growth. Like the athlete or the artist, I can directly observe the slow but steady progress, even though my own work is hardly as glorious as theirs. Almost any occupation at all, however humble or grueling, increase the scope of our awareness and builds up our appreciation for the order of Nature.
While ignorance makes us lower than the beasts, knowledge brings us closer to the gods.
—Reflection written in 12/2012
IMAGE: John Roddam Spencer Stanhope, Knowledge Smothers Ignorance (1870)
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