Yes, my dear Lucilius, the good which true reason approves is solid and everlasting; it strengthens the spirit and exalts it, so that it will always be on the heights; but those things which are thoughtlessly praised, and are goods in the opinion of the mob, merely puff us up with empty joy.
And again, those things which are feared as if they were evils merely inspire trepidation in men's minds, for the mind is disturbed by the semblance of danger, just as animals are disturbed. Hence it is without reason that both these things distract and sting the spirit; the one is not worthy of joy, nor the other of fear.
It is reason alone that is unchangeable, that holds fast to its decisions. For reason is not a slave to the senses, but a ruler over them. Reason is equal to reason, as one straight line to another; therefore virtue also is equal to virtue. Virtue is nothing else than right reason. All virtues are reasons. Reasons are reasons, if they are right reasons. If they are right, they are also equal. As reason is, so also are actions; therefore all actions are equal. For since they resemble reason, they also resemble each other.
Moreover, I hold that actions are equal to each other in so far as they are honorable and right actions. There will be, of course, great differences according as the material varies, as it becomes now broader and now narrower, now glorious and now base, now manifold in scope and now limited. However, that which is best in all these cases is equal; they are all honorable.
In the same way, all good men, in so far as they are good, are equal. There are, indeed, differences of age—one is older, another younger; of body—one is comely, another is ugly; of fortune—this man is rich, that man poor, this one is influential, powerful, and well-known to cities and peoples, that man is unknown to most, and is obscure. But all, in respect of that wherein they are good, are equal.
The senses do not decide upon things good and evil; they do not know what is useful and what is not useful. They cannot record their opinion unless they are brought face to face with a fact; they can neither see into the future nor recollect the past; and they do not know what results from what. But it is from such knowledge that a sequence and succession of actions is woven, and a unity of life is created—a unity which will proceed in a straight course.
Reason, therefore, is the judge of good and evil; that which is foreign and external she regards as dross, and that which is neither good nor evil she judges as merely accessory, insignificant, and trivial. For all her good resides in the soul.
And again, those things which are feared as if they were evils merely inspire trepidation in men's minds, for the mind is disturbed by the semblance of danger, just as animals are disturbed. Hence it is without reason that both these things distract and sting the spirit; the one is not worthy of joy, nor the other of fear.
It is reason alone that is unchangeable, that holds fast to its decisions. For reason is not a slave to the senses, but a ruler over them. Reason is equal to reason, as one straight line to another; therefore virtue also is equal to virtue. Virtue is nothing else than right reason. All virtues are reasons. Reasons are reasons, if they are right reasons. If they are right, they are also equal. As reason is, so also are actions; therefore all actions are equal. For since they resemble reason, they also resemble each other.
Moreover, I hold that actions are equal to each other in so far as they are honorable and right actions. There will be, of course, great differences according as the material varies, as it becomes now broader and now narrower, now glorious and now base, now manifold in scope and now limited. However, that which is best in all these cases is equal; they are all honorable.
In the same way, all good men, in so far as they are good, are equal. There are, indeed, differences of age—one is older, another younger; of body—one is comely, another is ugly; of fortune—this man is rich, that man poor, this one is influential, powerful, and well-known to cities and peoples, that man is unknown to most, and is obscure. But all, in respect of that wherein they are good, are equal.
The senses do not decide upon things good and evil; they do not know what is useful and what is not useful. They cannot record their opinion unless they are brought face to face with a fact; they can neither see into the future nor recollect the past; and they do not know what results from what. But it is from such knowledge that a sequence and succession of actions is woven, and a unity of life is created—a unity which will proceed in a straight course.
Reason, therefore, is the judge of good and evil; that which is foreign and external she regards as dross, and that which is neither good nor evil she judges as merely accessory, insignificant, and trivial. For all her good resides in the soul.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 66
We tend to live under the illusion that only a very few of us can ever become truly great, and so a scuffle ensues to see who will win the top spots. Yet we are not confident enough in our merits for their own sake, and hence the assumption is made that fame, the praise of the many, is required as an endorsement of our arrival. How odd! A fellow wishes to be special, and he does so by seeking the approval of the unwashed masses?
If I desire what is firm and lasting, I could hardly find a worse way to ensure my achievement. Pleasure, honor, and riches are fickle mistresses, and to rely on them is to become a slave to their whims. I have rushed after one gratification, only to see it slip away, or to still leave me wanting, so I pursue yet another indulgence. The moods of others shift as quickly as my own, so my standing rises and falls with the vagaries of opinion. The wealth I foolishly believe I earned is snatched away by circumstance, so I seek out someone else to blame.
Merely following the herd is a surrender of judgment, leading me to desire what offers no sustenance, and to dread what poses no threat. What remains mine alone, providing constant meaning and purpose, is the exercise of my reason, not as a cold abstraction, but as the power to distinguish true from false and right from wrong, throughout the many changes life brings.
Where there is sound judgment, there will be virtuous action, and being itself the measure of human excellence, it is fully and equally present for all who seek it. There is no need for the few to claim it at the expense of the many, or for human dignity to become a test of popularity. It will be expressed under many different conditions, but it remains one and the same virtue.
While my senses act upon me forcefully and immediately, they are not the final arbiter, since it is reason that discovers the standard; the impressions are limited to the particular, and mind conceives the universal. What a tragedy it is when a creature made to rule itself willfully abandons its responsibility, turning itself inside out and upside down!
Do I want to succeed? Let me be careful to understand the goal as something complete and self-sufficient, not limited to some but identical for all, not dictated by trivial convention but grounded fast in nature. No one needs to run the rat race, because the prize can be shared in common—the extraordinary is already within the ordinary.
We tend to live under the illusion that only a very few of us can ever become truly great, and so a scuffle ensues to see who will win the top spots. Yet we are not confident enough in our merits for their own sake, and hence the assumption is made that fame, the praise of the many, is required as an endorsement of our arrival. How odd! A fellow wishes to be special, and he does so by seeking the approval of the unwashed masses?
If I desire what is firm and lasting, I could hardly find a worse way to ensure my achievement. Pleasure, honor, and riches are fickle mistresses, and to rely on them is to become a slave to their whims. I have rushed after one gratification, only to see it slip away, or to still leave me wanting, so I pursue yet another indulgence. The moods of others shift as quickly as my own, so my standing rises and falls with the vagaries of opinion. The wealth I foolishly believe I earned is snatched away by circumstance, so I seek out someone else to blame.
Merely following the herd is a surrender of judgment, leading me to desire what offers no sustenance, and to dread what poses no threat. What remains mine alone, providing constant meaning and purpose, is the exercise of my reason, not as a cold abstraction, but as the power to distinguish true from false and right from wrong, throughout the many changes life brings.
Where there is sound judgment, there will be virtuous action, and being itself the measure of human excellence, it is fully and equally present for all who seek it. There is no need for the few to claim it at the expense of the many, or for human dignity to become a test of popularity. It will be expressed under many different conditions, but it remains one and the same virtue.
While my senses act upon me forcefully and immediately, they are not the final arbiter, since it is reason that discovers the standard; the impressions are limited to the particular, and mind conceives the universal. What a tragedy it is when a creature made to rule itself willfully abandons its responsibility, turning itself inside out and upside down!
Do I want to succeed? Let me be careful to understand the goal as something complete and self-sufficient, not limited to some but identical for all, not dictated by trivial convention but grounded fast in nature. No one needs to run the rat race, because the prize can be shared in common—the extraordinary is already within the ordinary.
—Reflection written in 7/2013
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