M. But as we are to depart in the morning, let us remember these five days’ discussions; though, indeed, I think I shall commit them to writing: for how can I better employ the leisure which I have, of whatever kind it is, and whatever it be owing to?
And I will send these five books also to my friend Brutus, by whom I was not only incited to write on philosophy, but, I may say, provoked. And by so doing it is not easy to say what service I may be of to others.
At all events, in my own various and acute afflictions, which surround me on all sides, I cannot find any better comfort for myself.
And I will send these five books also to my friend Brutus, by whom I was not only incited to write on philosophy, but, I may say, provoked. And by so doing it is not easy to say what service I may be of to others.
At all events, in my own various and acute afflictions, which surround me on all sides, I cannot find any better comfort for myself.
—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 5.42
A colleague recently chided me for paying so much attention to this “fake” text, because “any scholar knows these conversations never actually happened.” Well, I don’t know that, and neither does he, but I hardly think that’s the point. For me, what is more to the point is that I walked away from these Tusculan Disputations with a revived commitment to becoming a man of character, let the chips fall where they may. I can smile and nod at the criticism, instead of tossing back some clever insult.
While we remember Brutus as the worst sort of traitor, perhaps deservedly, I would prefer to ponder how he must have struggled with choosing an honorable path. Whether we are remembered as heroes or as villains, or even if we are not remembered at all, matters far less than whether we worked to increase in the virtues. When this is our priority, all the rest will pale in comparison, and happiness is finally within our reach.
Am I terrified of dying? I will no longer be so hesitant, once I can discern the genuine value of living.
Do I cringe at the prospect of pain? It will cease to appear like an evil, if can I discover the source of my good.
Have I been overcome by the weight of my grief? I must distinguish between what can be lost, and what can never be lost.
Is my soul tortured by extreme passions? It will only be an order to my thinking that brings out an order in my feelings.
Must I worry that the content of my character won’t be enough? In the end, that is all I can be, and all I can call my own.
People often frown at philosophy, wondering what it could possibly “get” them. I can assure you it will give you absolutely nothing beyond itself, and if you were to look for some further reward, you wouldn’t be doing philosophy. It will, however, provide the means for an inner peace, and that is the key to finding the benefit in absolutely everything else.
A colleague recently chided me for paying so much attention to this “fake” text, because “any scholar knows these conversations never actually happened.” Well, I don’t know that, and neither does he, but I hardly think that’s the point. For me, what is more to the point is that I walked away from these Tusculan Disputations with a revived commitment to becoming a man of character, let the chips fall where they may. I can smile and nod at the criticism, instead of tossing back some clever insult.
While we remember Brutus as the worst sort of traitor, perhaps deservedly, I would prefer to ponder how he must have struggled with choosing an honorable path. Whether we are remembered as heroes or as villains, or even if we are not remembered at all, matters far less than whether we worked to increase in the virtues. When this is our priority, all the rest will pale in comparison, and happiness is finally within our reach.
Am I terrified of dying? I will no longer be so hesitant, once I can discern the genuine value of living.
Do I cringe at the prospect of pain? It will cease to appear like an evil, if can I discover the source of my good.
Have I been overcome by the weight of my grief? I must distinguish between what can be lost, and what can never be lost.
Is my soul tortured by extreme passions? It will only be an order to my thinking that brings out an order in my feelings.
Must I worry that the content of my character won’t be enough? In the end, that is all I can be, and all I can call my own.
People often frown at philosophy, wondering what it could possibly “get” them. I can assure you it will give you absolutely nothing beyond itself, and if you were to look for some further reward, you wouldn’t be doing philosophy. It will, however, provide the means for an inner peace, and that is the key to finding the benefit in absolutely everything else.
—Reflection written in 3/1999
IMAGE: Vincenzo Foppa, The Young Cicero Reading (c. 1464)
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