M. Since I have spoken before of virtue in other places, and shall often have occasion to speak again (for a great many questions that relate to life and manners arise from the spring of virtue); and since, as I say, virtue consists in a settled and uniform affection of mind, making those persons praiseworthy who are possessed of her, she herself also, independent of anything else, without regard to any advantage, must be praiseworthy; for from her proceed good inclinations, opinions, actions, and the whole of right reason; though virtue may be defined in a few words to be right reason itself.
The opposite to this is viciousness (for so I choose to translate what the Greeks call κακία, rather than by perverseness; for perverseness is the name of a particular vice; but viciousness includes all), from whence arise those perturbations which, as I just now said, are turbid and violent motions of the mind, repugnant to reason, and enemies in a high degree to the peace of the mind and a tranquil life.
For they introduce piercing and anxious cares, and afflict and debilitate the mind through fear; they violently inflame our hearts with exaggerated appetite, which is in reality an impotence of mind, utterly irreconcilable with temperance and moderation, which we sometimes call desire, and sometimes lust, and which, should it even attain the object of its wishes, immediately becomes so elated that it loses all its resolution, and knows not what to pursue; so that he was in the right who said “that exaggerated pleasure was the very greatest of mistakes.”
Virtue, then, alone can effect the cure of these evils.
The opposite to this is viciousness (for so I choose to translate what the Greeks call κακία, rather than by perverseness; for perverseness is the name of a particular vice; but viciousness includes all), from whence arise those perturbations which, as I just now said, are turbid and violent motions of the mind, repugnant to reason, and enemies in a high degree to the peace of the mind and a tranquil life.
For they introduce piercing and anxious cares, and afflict and debilitate the mind through fear; they violently inflame our hearts with exaggerated appetite, which is in reality an impotence of mind, utterly irreconcilable with temperance and moderation, which we sometimes call desire, and sometimes lust, and which, should it even attain the object of its wishes, immediately becomes so elated that it loses all its resolution, and knows not what to pursue; so that he was in the right who said “that exaggerated pleasure was the very greatest of mistakes.”
Virtue, then, alone can effect the cure of these evils.
—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 4.15
From all those years of reflecting on various Wisdom Traditions, my head now takes it as certain that virtue is the highest human good, even as my gut would often like to tell me otherwise. At the very least, I know in which direction I should be aiming, though sadly that aim will still fall short. I accept it to be a lifelong process, precisely because it is the most essential of all tasks.
I must still remind myself, however, that so many of the people I come across in this life do not share in my convictions, and that is itself the challenge of choosing to love those who do not themselves rate love so highly. On a purely practical level, folks will grant that moral decency is somehow important, and yet they will then offer a lengthy list of other things they believe to be equally important, wishing to have it in as many ways as possible. We too quickly forget that warning about trying to serve two masters.
So, the default position, the one that sounds the safest and the least demanding, is to speak of a “good” life as blending together sufficient bits of wealth, pleasure, and reputation, wrapped up in a general appearance of kindness, since that last bit is the one that is usually most effective at providing for the other three. Still, there will be those moments when being “nice” is no longer as convenient, and then we see how quickly the gloves come off.
I think of how Socrates taught that virtue does not come from money, but that from virtue comes money, and all of the other “things” we call good in this life. The benefit or the harm of any circumstance depends entirely on whether we choose to use it well, and this, in turn, hinges upon the presence or absence of character. Wickedness always brings misery, whatever tempting means of gratification is brought into the mix.
Reason provides the direction of order and purpose, while a surrender to a mere impression is a guarantee of being swept away by the extremes of passion. Far from fulfilling us, an unbridled urge is never satisfied, for it knows of no limit, and so it leaves us bound in chains. Socrates, Cicero, or Seneca, like all the wise who praise virtue, are calling us to the total liberty of self-rule, where our judgments guide the way to an inner peace.
From all those years of reflecting on various Wisdom Traditions, my head now takes it as certain that virtue is the highest human good, even as my gut would often like to tell me otherwise. At the very least, I know in which direction I should be aiming, though sadly that aim will still fall short. I accept it to be a lifelong process, precisely because it is the most essential of all tasks.
I must still remind myself, however, that so many of the people I come across in this life do not share in my convictions, and that is itself the challenge of choosing to love those who do not themselves rate love so highly. On a purely practical level, folks will grant that moral decency is somehow important, and yet they will then offer a lengthy list of other things they believe to be equally important, wishing to have it in as many ways as possible. We too quickly forget that warning about trying to serve two masters.
So, the default position, the one that sounds the safest and the least demanding, is to speak of a “good” life as blending together sufficient bits of wealth, pleasure, and reputation, wrapped up in a general appearance of kindness, since that last bit is the one that is usually most effective at providing for the other three. Still, there will be those moments when being “nice” is no longer as convenient, and then we see how quickly the gloves come off.
I think of how Socrates taught that virtue does not come from money, but that from virtue comes money, and all of the other “things” we call good in this life. The benefit or the harm of any circumstance depends entirely on whether we choose to use it well, and this, in turn, hinges upon the presence or absence of character. Wickedness always brings misery, whatever tempting means of gratification is brought into the mix.
Reason provides the direction of order and purpose, while a surrender to a mere impression is a guarantee of being swept away by the extremes of passion. Far from fulfilling us, an unbridled urge is never satisfied, for it knows of no limit, and so it leaves us bound in chains. Socrates, Cicero, or Seneca, like all the wise who praise virtue, are calling us to the total liberty of self-rule, where our judgments guide the way to an inner peace.
—Reflection written in 1/1999
IMAGE: Emmanuel Michel Benner, Hercules Choosing Between Virtue and Vice (1899)
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