M. But that what I propose to demonstrate to you may not rest on mere words only, I must set before you the picture of something, as it were, living and moving in the world, that may dispose us more for the improvement of the understanding and real knowledge.
Let us, then, pitch upon some man perfectly acquainted with the most excellent arts; let us present him for awhile to our own thoughts, and figure him to our own imaginations.
In the first place, he must necessarily be of an extraordinary capacity; for virtue is not easily connected with dull minds.
Secondly, he must have a great desire of discovering truth, from whence will arise that threefold production of the mind; one of which depends on knowing things, and explaining nature; the other, in defining what we ought to desire and what to avoid; the third, in judging of consequences and impossibilities, in which consists both subtlety in disputing and also clearness of judgment.
Now, with what pleasure must the mind of a wise man be affected which continually dwells in the midst of such cares and occupations as these, when he views the revolutions and motions of the whole world, and sees those innumerable stars in the heavens, which, though fixed in their places, have yet one motion in common with the whole universe, and observes the seven other stars, some higher, some lower, each maintaining their own course, while their motions, though wandering, have certain defined and appointed spaces to run through! The sight of which doubtless urged and encouraged those ancient philosophers to exercise their investigating spirit on many other things.
Hence arose an inquiry after the beginnings, and, as it were, seeds from which all things were produced and composed; what was the origin of every kind of thing, whether animate or inanimate, articulately speaking or mute; what occasioned their beginning and end, and by what alteration and change one thing was converted into another; whence the earth originated, and by what weights it was balanced; by what caverns the seas were supplied; by what gravity all things being carried down tend always to the middle of the world, which in any round body is the lowest place.
Let us, then, pitch upon some man perfectly acquainted with the most excellent arts; let us present him for awhile to our own thoughts, and figure him to our own imaginations.
In the first place, he must necessarily be of an extraordinary capacity; for virtue is not easily connected with dull minds.
Secondly, he must have a great desire of discovering truth, from whence will arise that threefold production of the mind; one of which depends on knowing things, and explaining nature; the other, in defining what we ought to desire and what to avoid; the third, in judging of consequences and impossibilities, in which consists both subtlety in disputing and also clearness of judgment.
Now, with what pleasure must the mind of a wise man be affected which continually dwells in the midst of such cares and occupations as these, when he views the revolutions and motions of the whole world, and sees those innumerable stars in the heavens, which, though fixed in their places, have yet one motion in common with the whole universe, and observes the seven other stars, some higher, some lower, each maintaining their own course, while their motions, though wandering, have certain defined and appointed spaces to run through! The sight of which doubtless urged and encouraged those ancient philosophers to exercise their investigating spirit on many other things.
Hence arose an inquiry after the beginnings, and, as it were, seeds from which all things were produced and composed; what was the origin of every kind of thing, whether animate or inanimate, articulately speaking or mute; what occasioned their beginning and end, and by what alteration and change one thing was converted into another; whence the earth originated, and by what weights it was balanced; by what caverns the seas were supplied; by what gravity all things being carried down tend always to the middle of the world, which in any round body is the lowest place.
—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 5.24
I feel quite silly employing the power of reason, in conversation with another creature defined by reason, explaining why the excellence of reason is the source of all our goods. It is something like the feeling of waste that comes from arguing with a fellow who claims to know that nothing can be known, or who insists it to be an objective truth that all truth is subjective. However intense our passions may be, they can only be measured and interpreted by our judgments, so I cannot really trust the sophist who ends up relying on the very things he wishes to deny.
Common-sense philosophers, like Aristotle or Epictetus, have always reminded me not to engage with someone who refuses to follow logic; I have gradually come round to following their blunt advice. What we now like to call “science” needs to be more than the tabulation of empirical data, for behind the facts of experience stands the discovery of the principles by which we interpret those experiences: the universals informing the particulars, the absolute by which we estimate the relative, the necessary that grounds the contingent.
In other words, whether we initially like it or not, philosophy provides the foundation for all meaning and value, so that when we abandon our reason, we blind ourselves to the true and the good. This is why wisdom is the condition for any benefit in this world, and why the pursuit of wisdom is the only path to peace. If being happy demands living well, how am I to differentiate the right from the wrong? If you tell me to do what is good and to avoid what is evil, where can there be a distinction without the discernment of a prior understanding?
The sage does not turn out to be such a ridiculous figure after all. It is easy to scorn him by making him look impractical, and yet a moral compass ends up being the most useful tool in my kit. I appreciate how Cicero asks me to imagine the philosopher in his daily life, not merely by the appearance of his scholarship. What qualities does he possess? His habits of thinking must be sharp. What drives him to act? He is full of wonder. He wishes to know the reasons why, he is eager to establish a standard for himself, and he will never fail to put the premises before the conclusion.
What does his gazing at the heavens have to do with becoming a solid and decent sort of human being? To channel my best Immanuel Kant, the starry sky above and the moral law within are both instances of an innate purpose, whatever the scale, where the place of each humble individual is as dignified as the workings of the entire Universe. When I can learn more about why I am here, I am also living in harmony with the whole of Nature. No fame or fortune can buy that kind of serenity.
I certainly do not understand it all, nor can I pretend to even perceive the most of it. I catch glimpses over here, and some reflections over there, and I am thereby challenged to assemble these pieces as best I can, a process that will not end as long as I live. The Thomist in me remembers how I see through a glass darkly, such that I do not even fully know the essence of a flea; this is not a burden, but the very opportunity for growth, the vital progress from the lesser to the greater, from the effects back to the causes.
By looking to the heavens, I cannot help but improve myself. I would be a fool to just stare at my shoes in weariness.
I feel quite silly employing the power of reason, in conversation with another creature defined by reason, explaining why the excellence of reason is the source of all our goods. It is something like the feeling of waste that comes from arguing with a fellow who claims to know that nothing can be known, or who insists it to be an objective truth that all truth is subjective. However intense our passions may be, they can only be measured and interpreted by our judgments, so I cannot really trust the sophist who ends up relying on the very things he wishes to deny.
Common-sense philosophers, like Aristotle or Epictetus, have always reminded me not to engage with someone who refuses to follow logic; I have gradually come round to following their blunt advice. What we now like to call “science” needs to be more than the tabulation of empirical data, for behind the facts of experience stands the discovery of the principles by which we interpret those experiences: the universals informing the particulars, the absolute by which we estimate the relative, the necessary that grounds the contingent.
In other words, whether we initially like it or not, philosophy provides the foundation for all meaning and value, so that when we abandon our reason, we blind ourselves to the true and the good. This is why wisdom is the condition for any benefit in this world, and why the pursuit of wisdom is the only path to peace. If being happy demands living well, how am I to differentiate the right from the wrong? If you tell me to do what is good and to avoid what is evil, where can there be a distinction without the discernment of a prior understanding?
The sage does not turn out to be such a ridiculous figure after all. It is easy to scorn him by making him look impractical, and yet a moral compass ends up being the most useful tool in my kit. I appreciate how Cicero asks me to imagine the philosopher in his daily life, not merely by the appearance of his scholarship. What qualities does he possess? His habits of thinking must be sharp. What drives him to act? He is full of wonder. He wishes to know the reasons why, he is eager to establish a standard for himself, and he will never fail to put the premises before the conclusion.
What does his gazing at the heavens have to do with becoming a solid and decent sort of human being? To channel my best Immanuel Kant, the starry sky above and the moral law within are both instances of an innate purpose, whatever the scale, where the place of each humble individual is as dignified as the workings of the entire Universe. When I can learn more about why I am here, I am also living in harmony with the whole of Nature. No fame or fortune can buy that kind of serenity.
I certainly do not understand it all, nor can I pretend to even perceive the most of it. I catch glimpses over here, and some reflections over there, and I am thereby challenged to assemble these pieces as best I can, a process that will not end as long as I live. The Thomist in me remembers how I see through a glass darkly, such that I do not even fully know the essence of a flea; this is not a burden, but the very opportunity for growth, the vital progress from the lesser to the greater, from the effects back to the causes.
By looking to the heavens, I cannot help but improve myself. I would be a fool to just stare at my shoes in weariness.
—Reflection written in 2/1999
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