What? Do you think that those things only are desirable which come to us amid pleasure and ease, and which we bedeck our doors to welcome? There are certain goods whose features are forbidding. There are certain prayers which are offered by a throng, not of men who rejoice, but of men who bow down reverently and worship.
Was it not in this fashion, think you, that Regulus prayed that he might reach Carthage?
Clothe yourself with a hero's courage, and withdraw for a little space from the opinions of the common man. Form a proper conception of the image of virtue, a thing of exceeding beauty and grandeur; this image is not to be worshipped by us with incense or garlands, but with sweat and blood.
Behold Marcus Cato, laying upon that hallowed breast his unspotted hands, and tearing apart the wounds which had not gone deep enough to kill him! Which, pray, shall you say to him: "I hope all will be as you wish," and "I am grieved," or shall it be "Good fortune in your undertaking!"?
Was it not in this fashion, think you, that Regulus prayed that he might reach Carthage?
Clothe yourself with a hero's courage, and withdraw for a little space from the opinions of the common man. Form a proper conception of the image of virtue, a thing of exceeding beauty and grandeur; this image is not to be worshipped by us with incense or garlands, but with sweat and blood.
Behold Marcus Cato, laying upon that hallowed breast his unspotted hands, and tearing apart the wounds which had not gone deep enough to kill him! Which, pray, shall you say to him: "I hope all will be as you wish," and "I am grieved," or shall it be "Good fortune in your undertaking!"?
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 67
Now how often do I still assume that the best thing is surely the easiest thing, and the most pleasant thing? I am ashamed to answer. Old habits can die hard, it is so tempting to follow the herd, and the force of the immediate impression requires the effort of a deliberate reflection. In the end, it is about what I choose to want, and why I judge it to be worthy.
Both labor and hardship can sometimes frustrate me, because a bit of me remains enslaved to the passions: the thinking part submits to the unthinking part, such that I neglect to look beneath the feeling of the appearance to an understanding of the meaning; I expect a right to receive instead of taking the responsibility to give.
Over the years, I regularly lived and worked with people who looked entirely to passive gratification. The irony was that I permitted this to annoy me, though I was just as subject to such a weakness. This initially led me to admiring a different sort of crowd, those who insisted on rigorous work and a willingness to sacrifice for the sake of success.
I suspected something was amiss, however, when my new heroes would condemn all poor people as being weak and lazy, just as they viewed fortune and fame as merited rewards for their struggles. It turned out that they were prepared to put in the hours, but their goals were really no different than those of the indolent—they also sought entitlement and privilege, even if they knew it did first require some heavy lifting.
In both cases, I was surrounded by folks who defined their happiness by wealth, status, and pleasure, while a sense of right and wrong didn’t seem to enter into the picture. Some just shouted out their demands, and others were clever operators, yet neither group inspired me to inform my conscience. They were sycophants to those they saw as their superiors, and bullies to those they saw as their inferiors, revealing how integrity and justice were nowhere on the radar.
Yes, I do now understand a little more about the necessity of exertion and endurance, but I am extremely careful to direct them to their proper end. What made the adversity of Regulus or Cato great was the way they used it as an opportunity to increase in virtue, not as part of some scheme to improve a position. I distinguish sharply between the man who takes a risk to win money and power, and the man who takes a risk to win character and peace of mind.
I do revere those who persist through trials and tribulations, but no longer for the reasons most of my peers would do so. If you ask me to offer blood, toil, tears, and sweat, I will only follow if they are in the service of the soul. True courage is in the dignity of the purpose—a mountain of gold is as nothing to the love of friends.
Now how often do I still assume that the best thing is surely the easiest thing, and the most pleasant thing? I am ashamed to answer. Old habits can die hard, it is so tempting to follow the herd, and the force of the immediate impression requires the effort of a deliberate reflection. In the end, it is about what I choose to want, and why I judge it to be worthy.
Both labor and hardship can sometimes frustrate me, because a bit of me remains enslaved to the passions: the thinking part submits to the unthinking part, such that I neglect to look beneath the feeling of the appearance to an understanding of the meaning; I expect a right to receive instead of taking the responsibility to give.
Over the years, I regularly lived and worked with people who looked entirely to passive gratification. The irony was that I permitted this to annoy me, though I was just as subject to such a weakness. This initially led me to admiring a different sort of crowd, those who insisted on rigorous work and a willingness to sacrifice for the sake of success.
I suspected something was amiss, however, when my new heroes would condemn all poor people as being weak and lazy, just as they viewed fortune and fame as merited rewards for their struggles. It turned out that they were prepared to put in the hours, but their goals were really no different than those of the indolent—they also sought entitlement and privilege, even if they knew it did first require some heavy lifting.
In both cases, I was surrounded by folks who defined their happiness by wealth, status, and pleasure, while a sense of right and wrong didn’t seem to enter into the picture. Some just shouted out their demands, and others were clever operators, yet neither group inspired me to inform my conscience. They were sycophants to those they saw as their superiors, and bullies to those they saw as their inferiors, revealing how integrity and justice were nowhere on the radar.
Yes, I do now understand a little more about the necessity of exertion and endurance, but I am extremely careful to direct them to their proper end. What made the adversity of Regulus or Cato great was the way they used it as an opportunity to increase in virtue, not as part of some scheme to improve a position. I distinguish sharply between the man who takes a risk to win money and power, and the man who takes a risk to win character and peace of mind.
I do revere those who persist through trials and tribulations, but no longer for the reasons most of my peers would do so. If you ask me to offer blood, toil, tears, and sweat, I will only follow if they are in the service of the soul. True courage is in the dignity of the purpose—a mountain of gold is as nothing to the love of friends.
—Reflection written in 8/2013
IMAGE: Nicolas Bernard Lepicie, Regulus Returning to Carthage (1779)
No comments:
Post a Comment