But let everyone defend his own opinion, for everyone is at liberty to choose what he likes: I shall keep to my old custom; and, being under no restraint from the laws of any particular school, which in philosophy everyone must necessarily confine himself to, I shall always inquire what has the most probability in every question, and this system, which I have often practiced on other occasions, I have adhered closely to in my Tusculan Disputations.
Therefore, as I have acquainted you with the disputations of the three former days, this book shall conclude the discussion of the fourth day. When we had come down into the Academy, as we had done the former days, the business was carried on thus:
M. Let anyone say, who pleases, what he would wish to have discussed.
A. I do not think a wise man can possibly be free from every perturbation of mind.
M. He seemed by yesterday’s discourse to be free from grief; unless you agreed with us only to avoid taking up time.
A. Not at all on that account, for I was extremely satisfied with your discourse.
M. You do not think, then, that a wise man is subject to grief?
A. No, by no means.
M. But if that cannot disorder the mind of a wise man, nothing else can. For what—can such a man be disturbed by fear?
Fear proceeds from the same things when absent which occasion grief when present. Take away grief, then, and you remove fear.
The two remaining perturbations are, a joy elate above measure, and lust; and if a wise man is not subject to these, his mind will be always at rest.
A. I am entirely of that opinion.
M. Which, then, shall we do? Shall I immediately crowd all my sails? Or shall I make use of my oars, as if I were just endeavoring to get clear of the harbor?
A. What is it that you mean, for I do not exactly comprehend you?
Therefore, as I have acquainted you with the disputations of the three former days, this book shall conclude the discussion of the fourth day. When we had come down into the Academy, as we had done the former days, the business was carried on thus:
M. Let anyone say, who pleases, what he would wish to have discussed.
A. I do not think a wise man can possibly be free from every perturbation of mind.
M. He seemed by yesterday’s discourse to be free from grief; unless you agreed with us only to avoid taking up time.
A. Not at all on that account, for I was extremely satisfied with your discourse.
M. You do not think, then, that a wise man is subject to grief?
A. No, by no means.
M. But if that cannot disorder the mind of a wise man, nothing else can. For what—can such a man be disturbed by fear?
Fear proceeds from the same things when absent which occasion grief when present. Take away grief, then, and you remove fear.
The two remaining perturbations are, a joy elate above measure, and lust; and if a wise man is not subject to these, his mind will be always at rest.
A. I am entirely of that opinion.
M. Which, then, shall we do? Shall I immediately crowd all my sails? Or shall I make use of my oars, as if I were just endeavoring to get clear of the harbor?
A. What is it that you mean, for I do not exactly comprehend you?
—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 4.4
In the end, however, it matters very little whether this or that nation is more refined in its philosophy, or which particular positions this or that school happens to promote. Each and every one of us must live by his own judgments, and we are hardly doing so if we bow to the will of the tribes. A “professional” philosopher may insist that you are obliged to pick a side, but your common sense should tell you why the truth has no partisan preference.
Cicero did not adhere to any formal “-ism”, and I have always admired him for doing so. His general method tended to follow a moderate skepticism, in that he was less concerned with establishing any metaphysical certainty, and far more interested in seeking out practical guidelines for living well. If the shoe fits, wear it.
Whether it be learned from the Academics or the Peripatetics, from the Stoics or the Epicureans, the lesson should teach us how to increase what is best in us, and to leave behind what is worst in us.
While the last book was focused on the specific problem of grief, this next book considers disturbances of the mind more broadly, and isolates the root causes of our many miseries, revealing how they are ultimately self-imposed.
Cicero’s arguments do make use of many Stoic principles, and they leave us with the conclusion that either there is no evil to be found in circumstances at all, following the Stoics, or that any evils suffered in the world are quite insignificant in contrast to the goods of virtue, following the Peripatetics.
If the wise man is to be happy, surely he will have the ability to overcome all of life’s challenges, and not just some of them? It would seem odd, for example, if I could resist my sadness, but still be enslaved to my fear, my pleasure, or my longings. And yet the Auditor suggests precisely that, willing to admit how grief can be conquered, while leaving a mastery of other troubles beyond our power.
I should not be surprised, however, for we will often toss aside a unity of the person in favor of some fractured clutter. For my own generation, we proudly insist that we can achieve whatever we set our minds to, while we also claim to have absolutely no control over our own sexual urges. Besides being an opportunity to make excuses, why should sloth be a curable condition, while lust remains invincible?
Our passions are closely bound to one another, and do not exist in isolation. Grief and fear are both cases of distress, and they differ only in whether the perceived evil is already present or yet to come. The trick for curing both will be in showing how that perception was mistaken.
And what about excessive pleasures and extreme cravings? These are both cases of inordinate desire, and they differ only in whether the perceived good is already present or yet to come. Now we will see far more of this as the text continues, but the pattern has already been set. . . . .
For the sake of convenient reference, here are the Stoic distinctions between ordered and disordered emotions, as first presented in Book 3:
• • • • •
My disordered emotions, which are those in conflict with sound reason, are therefore as follows:
Exulting pleasure or gratification: satisfaction in a false good
Lust: desire for a false good
Pain or grief: distress at a false evil
Fear: expectation of a false evil
In contrast, my ordered emotions, which are those in harmony with reason, are therefore as follows:
Joy: satisfaction in a true good
Wish: desire for a true good
[there can be no such thing as rational grief, i.e. a distress at a true evil]
Caution: expectation of a true evil
• • • • •
Now how should Cicero proceed to address the problem, by sailing or by rowing? . . .
In the end, however, it matters very little whether this or that nation is more refined in its philosophy, or which particular positions this or that school happens to promote. Each and every one of us must live by his own judgments, and we are hardly doing so if we bow to the will of the tribes. A “professional” philosopher may insist that you are obliged to pick a side, but your common sense should tell you why the truth has no partisan preference.
Cicero did not adhere to any formal “-ism”, and I have always admired him for doing so. His general method tended to follow a moderate skepticism, in that he was less concerned with establishing any metaphysical certainty, and far more interested in seeking out practical guidelines for living well. If the shoe fits, wear it.
Whether it be learned from the Academics or the Peripatetics, from the Stoics or the Epicureans, the lesson should teach us how to increase what is best in us, and to leave behind what is worst in us.
While the last book was focused on the specific problem of grief, this next book considers disturbances of the mind more broadly, and isolates the root causes of our many miseries, revealing how they are ultimately self-imposed.
Cicero’s arguments do make use of many Stoic principles, and they leave us with the conclusion that either there is no evil to be found in circumstances at all, following the Stoics, or that any evils suffered in the world are quite insignificant in contrast to the goods of virtue, following the Peripatetics.
If the wise man is to be happy, surely he will have the ability to overcome all of life’s challenges, and not just some of them? It would seem odd, for example, if I could resist my sadness, but still be enslaved to my fear, my pleasure, or my longings. And yet the Auditor suggests precisely that, willing to admit how grief can be conquered, while leaving a mastery of other troubles beyond our power.
I should not be surprised, however, for we will often toss aside a unity of the person in favor of some fractured clutter. For my own generation, we proudly insist that we can achieve whatever we set our minds to, while we also claim to have absolutely no control over our own sexual urges. Besides being an opportunity to make excuses, why should sloth be a curable condition, while lust remains invincible?
Our passions are closely bound to one another, and do not exist in isolation. Grief and fear are both cases of distress, and they differ only in whether the perceived evil is already present or yet to come. The trick for curing both will be in showing how that perception was mistaken.
And what about excessive pleasures and extreme cravings? These are both cases of inordinate desire, and they differ only in whether the perceived good is already present or yet to come. Now we will see far more of this as the text continues, but the pattern has already been set. . . . .
For the sake of convenient reference, here are the Stoic distinctions between ordered and disordered emotions, as first presented in Book 3:
• • • • •
My disordered emotions, which are those in conflict with sound reason, are therefore as follows:
Exulting pleasure or gratification: satisfaction in a false good
Lust: desire for a false good
Pain or grief: distress at a false evil
Fear: expectation of a false evil
In contrast, my ordered emotions, which are those in harmony with reason, are therefore as follows:
Joy: satisfaction in a true good
Wish: desire for a true good
[there can be no such thing as rational grief, i.e. a distress at a true evil]
Caution: expectation of a true evil
• • • • •
Now how should Cicero proceed to address the problem, by sailing or by rowing? . . .
—Reflection written in 1/1999
IMAGE: Wilhelm Amberg, Lost in Thoughts (c. 1890)
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