M. For even as trading is said to be lucrative, and farming advantageous, not because the one never meets with any loss, nor the other with any damage from the inclemency of the weather, but because they succeed in general; so life may be properly called happy, not from its being entirely made up of good things, but because it abounds with these to a great and considerable degree.
By this way of reasoning, then, a happy life may attend virtue even to the moment of execution; nay, may descend with her into Phalaris’s bull, according to Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, Polemon; and will not be gained over by any allurements to forsake her. Of the same opinion will Calliphon and Diodorus be; for they are both of them such friends to virtue as to think that all things should be discarded and far removed that are incompatible with it.
The rest seem to be more hampered with these doctrines, but yet they get clear of them; such as Epicurus, Hieronymus, and whoever else thinks it worthwhile to defend the deserted Carneades: for there is not one of them who does not think the mind to be judge of those goods, and able sufficiently to instruct him how to despise what has the appearance only of good or evil. For what seems to you to be the case with Epicurus is the case also with Hieronymus and Carneades, and, indeed, with all the rest of them; for who is there who is not sufficiently prepared against death and pain?
I will begin, with your leave, with him whom we call soft and voluptuous. What! Does he seem, to you to be afraid of death or pain when he calls the day of his death happy; and who, when he is afflicted by the greatest pains, silences them all by recollecting arguments of his own discovering?
And this is not done in such a manner as to give room for imagining that he talks thus wildly from some sudden impulse; but his opinion of death is, that on the dissolution of the animal all sense is lost; and what is deprived of sense is, as he thinks, what we have no concern at all with. And as to pain, too, he has certain rules to follow then: if it be great, the comfort is that it must be short; if it be of long continuance, then it must be supportable.
What, then? Do those grandiloquent gentlemen state anything better than Epicurus in opposition to these two things which distress us the most? And as to other things, do not Epicurus and the rest of the philosophers seem sufficiently prepared? Who is there who does not dread poverty? And yet no true philosopher ever can dread it.
By this way of reasoning, then, a happy life may attend virtue even to the moment of execution; nay, may descend with her into Phalaris’s bull, according to Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, Polemon; and will not be gained over by any allurements to forsake her. Of the same opinion will Calliphon and Diodorus be; for they are both of them such friends to virtue as to think that all things should be discarded and far removed that are incompatible with it.
The rest seem to be more hampered with these doctrines, but yet they get clear of them; such as Epicurus, Hieronymus, and whoever else thinks it worthwhile to defend the deserted Carneades: for there is not one of them who does not think the mind to be judge of those goods, and able sufficiently to instruct him how to despise what has the appearance only of good or evil. For what seems to you to be the case with Epicurus is the case also with Hieronymus and Carneades, and, indeed, with all the rest of them; for who is there who is not sufficiently prepared against death and pain?
I will begin, with your leave, with him whom we call soft and voluptuous. What! Does he seem, to you to be afraid of death or pain when he calls the day of his death happy; and who, when he is afflicted by the greatest pains, silences them all by recollecting arguments of his own discovering?
And this is not done in such a manner as to give room for imagining that he talks thus wildly from some sudden impulse; but his opinion of death is, that on the dissolution of the animal all sense is lost; and what is deprived of sense is, as he thinks, what we have no concern at all with. And as to pain, too, he has certain rules to follow then: if it be great, the comfort is that it must be short; if it be of long continuance, then it must be supportable.
What, then? Do those grandiloquent gentlemen state anything better than Epicurus in opposition to these two things which distress us the most? And as to other things, do not Epicurus and the rest of the philosophers seem sufficiently prepared? Who is there who does not dread poverty? And yet no true philosopher ever can dread it.
—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 5.31
It is impossible to make it through the day without a concept of what is “good”, and yet we will be hard-pressed to find anyone willing to define it with more than a blank stare. Though our words might fail us, to be aware of what we want, and why we might want it, is surely a matter of some importance.
And for all of our wishing, we will hardly expect everything to be absolutely perfect, being quite willing to tolerate some unpleasant bits slipping their way into a general picture of contentment. In practice, I suppose it is a matter of proportion, the lesser parts being outweighed by the greater whole, or, in a strictly Stoic manner, the hardships becoming the very opportunities for excellence.
The investor takes some losses here, while he wins more profits there. The farmer abandons this field to vermin, and that field to drought, and through his toil he still brings home an adequate harvest. The other day, I thoroughly enjoyed a steak dinner, even if the baked potato was slightly cold. I worry that this becomes a slippery slope of constantly fretting over a balance sheet, but I recognize why most of us will settle for a blended model of happiness, uncertain if we are capable of anything purer.
And even when the philosophers speak of the good as a mixture of many components, it inevitably ends up being virtue that has to come out on top, however else they express their goals. When push comes to shove, is it not character that allows us to endure pain with courage, and to face death with dignity? Where is the benefit of extensive riches if they are not employed with prudence? What is the satisfaction in refined luxuries if they are not guided by temperance? In any case, who will ever find peace without the balance of justice?
As for those thinkers who focus on the pursuit of pleasure and the avoidance of pain, they must always fall back on the power of understanding as a measure for the most gratifying acts, which once again makes the appetites subservient to the intellect. Our feelings, therefore, no longer define what is good, and it is rather our knowledge of the good that ends up defining the worth of our feelings.
I am hesitant to dump the Epicureans in with the “soft” crowd, since their behavior often revealed an incredible capacity for self-discipline. Indeed, their sort of “hedonism” is a far cry from the excesses commonly associated with the term, and the true sensualists I have met, of the unbridled type, have also swiftly brought themselves to total misery, precisely because they lack any kind of filter to their desires. If they manage to survive the ordeal, they are likely to seek out a far more restrained and responsible form of fulfillment.
How odd that one philosopher would claim to need the goods of fortune, and yet he distances himself from his circumstances when he recognizes their frailty. How strange that another philosopher would embrace the primacy of his passions, but then he turns around to praise moderation and sacrifice.
It is almost as if any pursuit of wisdom, however diverse and roundabout, cannot help but gradually arrive at the hunch that every other value in this life somehow hinges upon the merit of the virtues.
It is impossible to make it through the day without a concept of what is “good”, and yet we will be hard-pressed to find anyone willing to define it with more than a blank stare. Though our words might fail us, to be aware of what we want, and why we might want it, is surely a matter of some importance.
And for all of our wishing, we will hardly expect everything to be absolutely perfect, being quite willing to tolerate some unpleasant bits slipping their way into a general picture of contentment. In practice, I suppose it is a matter of proportion, the lesser parts being outweighed by the greater whole, or, in a strictly Stoic manner, the hardships becoming the very opportunities for excellence.
The investor takes some losses here, while he wins more profits there. The farmer abandons this field to vermin, and that field to drought, and through his toil he still brings home an adequate harvest. The other day, I thoroughly enjoyed a steak dinner, even if the baked potato was slightly cold. I worry that this becomes a slippery slope of constantly fretting over a balance sheet, but I recognize why most of us will settle for a blended model of happiness, uncertain if we are capable of anything purer.
And even when the philosophers speak of the good as a mixture of many components, it inevitably ends up being virtue that has to come out on top, however else they express their goals. When push comes to shove, is it not character that allows us to endure pain with courage, and to face death with dignity? Where is the benefit of extensive riches if they are not employed with prudence? What is the satisfaction in refined luxuries if they are not guided by temperance? In any case, who will ever find peace without the balance of justice?
As for those thinkers who focus on the pursuit of pleasure and the avoidance of pain, they must always fall back on the power of understanding as a measure for the most gratifying acts, which once again makes the appetites subservient to the intellect. Our feelings, therefore, no longer define what is good, and it is rather our knowledge of the good that ends up defining the worth of our feelings.
I am hesitant to dump the Epicureans in with the “soft” crowd, since their behavior often revealed an incredible capacity for self-discipline. Indeed, their sort of “hedonism” is a far cry from the excesses commonly associated with the term, and the true sensualists I have met, of the unbridled type, have also swiftly brought themselves to total misery, precisely because they lack any kind of filter to their desires. If they manage to survive the ordeal, they are likely to seek out a far more restrained and responsible form of fulfillment.
How odd that one philosopher would claim to need the goods of fortune, and yet he distances himself from his circumstances when he recognizes their frailty. How strange that another philosopher would embrace the primacy of his passions, but then he turns around to praise moderation and sacrifice.
It is almost as if any pursuit of wisdom, however diverse and roundabout, cannot help but gradually arrive at the hunch that every other value in this life somehow hinges upon the merit of the virtues.
—Reflection written in 3/1999
IMAGE: Jan Brueghel the Younger, Adam at Work in the Field (c. 1650)
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