Love reason! The love of reason will arm you against the greatest hardships.
Wild beasts dash against the hunter's spear through love of their young, and it is their wildness and their unpremeditated onrush that keep them from being tamed.
Often a desire for glory has stirred the mind of youth to despise both sword and stake; the mere vision and semblance of virtue impel certain men to a self-imposed death.
In proportion as reason is stouter and steadier than any of these emotions, so much the more forcefully will she make her way through the midst of utter terrors and dangers.
Wild beasts dash against the hunter's spear through love of their young, and it is their wildness and their unpremeditated onrush that keep them from being tamed.
Often a desire for glory has stirred the mind of youth to despise both sword and stake; the mere vision and semblance of virtue impel certain men to a self-imposed death.
In proportion as reason is stouter and steadier than any of these emotions, so much the more forcefully will she make her way through the midst of utter terrors and dangers.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 74
Almost all of my history teachers worked from a general assumption on the tension between rationalism and romanticism, and an unfortunate consequence was that we spoke far too confidently about the mind and the passions being in conflict with one another. I suggest that this is not only bad history, but also bad philosophy.
Knowing and feeling were always made to go together, even as we are presented with a caricature of the human, where coldly calculating brains are constantly at war with fiery sentimental spirits. Extremes are a mark of perplexity, not of a balanced state, so I should hardly believe that Kant and Blake have nothing to do with one another, or are locked in two incompatible worlds.
When Seneca calls upon me to love reason, it is therefore a relief to find peace in the harmony of the whole. I realize I am getting somewhere if a moment of profound insight then fuels an ardor of the will, all wrapped up in crisp emotions. The head gazes upon the truth, the heart longs for the good, and the belly is filled to satisfaction—in precisely that order of priority.
How can I rightly feel about what I do not love, and how can I rightly love what I do not understand?
My commitment to action will be at its strongest when it is rooted in the conviction of conscience; the virtues become invincible if I can comprehend why I am serving the supreme good. Lovers sacrifice everything for their beloved, parents will gladly die for their children, and the virtuous are undaunted in the face of any wickedness.
Reason inspires a certainty and a durability of purpose, a degree of determination far greater than any fleeting appetite. I like to joke that I once actually did walk an entire mile for a Camel cigarette, though I have now outgrown that craving, and I once spontaneously hopped on a midnight train out of an infatuation with a girl, though I have now forgotten what all the fuss was about.
But through it all, from the highest highs to the lowest lows, a reverence for wisdom has never steered me wrong. Following her has always brought me joy, just as neglecting her has always brought me misery.
Almost all of my history teachers worked from a general assumption on the tension between rationalism and romanticism, and an unfortunate consequence was that we spoke far too confidently about the mind and the passions being in conflict with one another. I suggest that this is not only bad history, but also bad philosophy.
Knowing and feeling were always made to go together, even as we are presented with a caricature of the human, where coldly calculating brains are constantly at war with fiery sentimental spirits. Extremes are a mark of perplexity, not of a balanced state, so I should hardly believe that Kant and Blake have nothing to do with one another, or are locked in two incompatible worlds.
When Seneca calls upon me to love reason, it is therefore a relief to find peace in the harmony of the whole. I realize I am getting somewhere if a moment of profound insight then fuels an ardor of the will, all wrapped up in crisp emotions. The head gazes upon the truth, the heart longs for the good, and the belly is filled to satisfaction—in precisely that order of priority.
How can I rightly feel about what I do not love, and how can I rightly love what I do not understand?
My commitment to action will be at its strongest when it is rooted in the conviction of conscience; the virtues become invincible if I can comprehend why I am serving the supreme good. Lovers sacrifice everything for their beloved, parents will gladly die for their children, and the virtuous are undaunted in the face of any wickedness.
Reason inspires a certainty and a durability of purpose, a degree of determination far greater than any fleeting appetite. I like to joke that I once actually did walk an entire mile for a Camel cigarette, though I have now outgrown that craving, and I once spontaneously hopped on a midnight train out of an infatuation with a girl, though I have now forgotten what all the fuss was about.
But through it all, from the highest highs to the lowest lows, a reverence for wisdom has never steered me wrong. Following her has always brought me joy, just as neglecting her has always brought me misery.
—Reflection written in 10/2013
IMAGE: Pietro Testa, The Allegorical Figures of Reason and Wisdom (1630)
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