The Death of Marcus Aurelius

The Death of Marcus Aurelius

Wednesday, July 17, 2024

Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 4.6


M. Zeno’s definition, then, is this: “A perturbation” (which he calls a πάθος) “is a commotion of the mind repugnant to reason, and against nature.” Some of them define it even more briefly, saying that a perturbation is a somewhat too vehement appetite: but by too vehement they mean an appetite that recedes further from the constancy of nature. 

 

But they would have the divisions of perturbations to arise from two imagined goods, and from two imagined evils; and thus they become four: 

 

From the good proceed lust and joy—joy having reference to some present good, and lust to some future one. 

 

They suppose fear and grief to proceed from evils: fear from something future, grief from something present; for whatever things are dreaded as approaching always occasion grief when present. 

 

But joy and lust depend on the opinion of good; as lust, being inflamed and provoked, is carried on eagerly towards what has the appearance of good; and joy is transported and exults on obtaining what was desired: for we naturally pursue those things that have the appearance of good, and avoid the contrary. 

 

Wherefore, as soon as anything that has the appearance of good presents itself, nature incites us to endeavor to obtain it. 

 

Now, where this strong desire is consistent and founded on prudence, it is by the Stoics called βούλησις, and the name which we give it is volition; and this they allow to none but their wise man, and define it thus: 

 

Volition is a reasonable desire; but whatever is incited too violently in opposition to reason, that is a lust, or an unbridled desire, which is discoverable in all fools. 

 

And, therefore, when we are affected so as to be placed in any good condition, we are moved in two ways; for when the mind is moved in a placid and calm motion, consistent with reason, that is called joy; but when it exults with a vain, wanton exultation, or immoderate joy, then that feeling may be called immoderate ecstasy or transport, which they define to be an elation of the mind without reason. 

 

And as we naturally desire good things, so in like manner we naturally seek to avoid what is evil; and this avoidance of which, if conducted in accordance with reason, is called caution; and this the wise man alone is supposed to have: but that caution which is not under the guidance of reason, but is attended with a base and low dejection, is called fear. Fear is, therefore, caution destitute of reason. 

 

But a wise man is not affected by any present evil; while the grief of a fool proceeds from being affected with an imaginary evil, by which his mind is contracted and sunk, since it is not under the dominion of reason. 

 

This, then, is the first definition, which makes grief to consist in a shrinking of the mind contrary to the dictates of reason. 

 

Thus, there are four perturbations, and but three calm rational emotions; for grief has no exact opposite.


—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 4.6 
 
When I began reading philosophy, I was often frustrated by trying to keep track of the many different terms, much like I might struggle at remembering all the characters in a novel by Dickens or Dostoyevsky. I would sometimes cast the book aside, making the vain assumption that the author was a fool, just because I was being so impetuous. My befuddlement is almost always a result of my impatience. 
 
It doesn’t help when different thinkers or schools have their own distinct vocabularies, and then translators will add their own variations, some of which can diverge wildly. Over the years, I have been learning to look behind the particular words to a universal meaning, and I try not to get too tied up in the fancy language. You might say “toMAYto”, and I might say “toMAHto”, but that hardly means we have to call the whole thing off. 
 
The expressions we use to describe emotions can be especially tricky, as the experience is so deeply subjective, and yet I remember how we all share in a common humanity. So when I read about the Stoic model of the passions, I tend to “bracket” the label, while focusing on the core concept. 
 
Yes, the Greek is different from the Latin, and the Latin is different from the English, but I don’t let that distract me too much. For the informal purposes of this reflection, I am using the English terms I tend to prefer, and making a note whenever this differs from Yonge’s translation. 
 
Though it comes out a bit differently each time I try to write it down, here, as I understand it, is the basic Stoic framework for the emotions: 
 
Any feeling I have is either an attraction to a perceived good, or an aversion to a perceived evil. 
 
Within this division, I am also reacting to things that are already present, or to things that I anticipate in the future. 
 
Finally, I must distinguish between a true perception of good and evil that is reasonable, or a false perception of good and evil that is unreasonable. This is why the Stoics speak of our feelings as being ordered or disordered, according to whether they agree with Nature or are in conflict with Nature, whether they are, so to speak, balanced or imbalanced. 
 
This reveals that there are really only eight possible classes of passions, of which all the others are peculiar variations. As we shall see, one of these categories is actually a practical impossibility, which then leaves us with only seven classes: 
 
When I am drawn to a true good that is present, I am feeling joy
 
When I am drawn to a false good that is present, I am feeling gratification. Yonge also calls this immoderate ecstasy or transport
 
When I am drawn to a true good that is anticipated, I am feeling a wish. Yonge also calls this volition
 
When I am drawn to a false good that is anticipated, I am feeling lust. Yonge also calls this unbridled desire
 
When I am repulsed by a true evil that is present, there can be no proper feeling, since the Stoic knows that any evil for him is only in his judgements, which he always has the power to modify at this very moment. In other words, grief is never truly reasonable. 
 
When I am repulsed by a false evil that is present, I am feeling grief
 
When I am repulsed by a true evil that is anticipated, I am feeling caution
 
When I am repulsed by a false evil that is anticipated, I am feeling fear
 
Cicero will have more to say on the various subdivisions, but in the end, for the Stoic it is healthy to feel joywish, and caution, while it is unhealthy to feel gratificationlustgrief, and fear. It all depends upon how our thinking directs our passions. 
 
However clever the theory might be, the only test that matters is whether such an awareness will really help me to live with peace of mind. I can honestly say that, despite the many false starts, what happiness I now have is due to my capacity for untangling the mess that was in my heart. To rightly distinguish is to find order in the chaos. 

—Reflection written in 1/1999 



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