But why do I talk of myself, who through the contagion of fashion and of the times, am perhaps a little infected with the fault of the age?
In the memory of our fathers, Manius Manilius (not to mention continually the Curii and the Luscinii) at length became poor; for he had only a little house at Carani and a farm near Labicum. Now are we, because we have greater possessions, richer men? I wish we were.
But the amount of wealth is not defined by the valuation of the census, but by habit and mode of life; not to be greedy is wealth; not to be extravagant is revenue. Above all things, to be content with what we possess is the greatest and most secure of riches.
If therefore they who are the most skillful valuers of property highly estimate fields and certain sites, because such estates are the least liable to injury, how much more valuable is virtue, which never can be wrested, never can be filched from us, which cannot be lost by fire or by shipwreck, and which is not alienated by the convulsions of tempest or of time, with which those who are endowed alone are rich, for they alone possess resources which are profitable and eternal; and they are the only men who, being contented with what they possess, think it sufficient, which is the criterion of riches: they hanker after nothing, they are in need of nothing, they feel the want of nothing, and they require nothing.
As to the unsatiable and avaricious part of mankind, as they have possessions liable to uncertainty, and at the mercy of chance, they who are forever thirsting after more, and of whom there never was a man for whom what he had sufficed; they are so far from being wealthy and rich, that they are to be regarded as necessitous and beggared.
In the memory of our fathers, Manius Manilius (not to mention continually the Curii and the Luscinii) at length became poor; for he had only a little house at Carani and a farm near Labicum. Now are we, because we have greater possessions, richer men? I wish we were.
But the amount of wealth is not defined by the valuation of the census, but by habit and mode of life; not to be greedy is wealth; not to be extravagant is revenue. Above all things, to be content with what we possess is the greatest and most secure of riches.
If therefore they who are the most skillful valuers of property highly estimate fields and certain sites, because such estates are the least liable to injury, how much more valuable is virtue, which never can be wrested, never can be filched from us, which cannot be lost by fire or by shipwreck, and which is not alienated by the convulsions of tempest or of time, with which those who are endowed alone are rich, for they alone possess resources which are profitable and eternal; and they are the only men who, being contented with what they possess, think it sufficient, which is the criterion of riches: they hanker after nothing, they are in need of nothing, they feel the want of nothing, and they require nothing.
As to the unsatiable and avaricious part of mankind, as they have possessions liable to uncertainty, and at the mercy of chance, they who are forever thirsting after more, and of whom there never was a man for whom what he had sufficed; they are so far from being wealthy and rich, that they are to be regarded as necessitous and beggared.
—from Cicero, Stoic Paradoxes 6
Like Cicero, it is easy for me to treat certain luxuries as if they were necessities, unwittingly raising the bar for a supposedly happy life. It doesn’t help how those around me are constantly trying to outdo one another, with the end result that we must now have a million-dollar home, at least two cars in the garage, and a summer vacation costing more than my grandfather earned in an entire year.
All of it is driven by credit, of course, which tricks us into thinking we are getting rich, when, in fact, the banks are getting rich, as we obediently feed at their trough.
Like Cicero, I also wonder if folks from the past were more temperate and frugal, but I then remember why there must be a Crassus for every Manilius in any age, and I just happen to look back at one of them with greater reverence.
I would be grateful for the little house, which, as a teacher in Catholic schools, is at this point completely beyond my means, but I have absolutely no urge to boss other workers on some farm. Perhaps that would change if you tempted me with prosperity, which only goes to show why riches can have a way of numbing us to what is essential in life.
Once again, however, it is never the money itself that is the problem, for the man who attends first to the cultivation of his conscience will thrive as either a prince or a pauper.
What first struck me so profoundly about Stoicism was its insistence on a radically different set of priorities, one that so many other philosophers would praise in theory, but so often failed to apply in practice. True riches are in the disposition of the soul, regardless of the accessories, and our daily habits should reflect that dignity.
When I continue to doubt this truth, I can remind myself why virtue is always more reliable than fortune. Despite our conniving, the circumstances will unfold on their own terms, and even when they seem to coincide with our desires, we remain forever at their mercy.
We are kidding ourselves when we say that we have “earned” some worldly reward, because the choices of others, and the subtle workings of fate, which will usually appear as random to our clouded vision, are far beyond our power.
No, I am at my best when I put my trust in my own character, which alone remains for me to determine. Though an enemy may take my property, or my comforts, or my reputation, or even my very life, he has no authority over my judgments, unless I have already decided to surrender them. For all the pain another might inflict, it pales in comparison to the harm I inflict upon myself once I abandon my nature.
I should not blame a man for being rich, or even for being greedy. Let me find joy in attending to my own virtues, which is the only way I can encourage him to help himself. The greatest wealth lies within.
Like Cicero, it is easy for me to treat certain luxuries as if they were necessities, unwittingly raising the bar for a supposedly happy life. It doesn’t help how those around me are constantly trying to outdo one another, with the end result that we must now have a million-dollar home, at least two cars in the garage, and a summer vacation costing more than my grandfather earned in an entire year.
All of it is driven by credit, of course, which tricks us into thinking we are getting rich, when, in fact, the banks are getting rich, as we obediently feed at their trough.
Like Cicero, I also wonder if folks from the past were more temperate and frugal, but I then remember why there must be a Crassus for every Manilius in any age, and I just happen to look back at one of them with greater reverence.
I would be grateful for the little house, which, as a teacher in Catholic schools, is at this point completely beyond my means, but I have absolutely no urge to boss other workers on some farm. Perhaps that would change if you tempted me with prosperity, which only goes to show why riches can have a way of numbing us to what is essential in life.
Once again, however, it is never the money itself that is the problem, for the man who attends first to the cultivation of his conscience will thrive as either a prince or a pauper.
What first struck me so profoundly about Stoicism was its insistence on a radically different set of priorities, one that so many other philosophers would praise in theory, but so often failed to apply in practice. True riches are in the disposition of the soul, regardless of the accessories, and our daily habits should reflect that dignity.
When I continue to doubt this truth, I can remind myself why virtue is always more reliable than fortune. Despite our conniving, the circumstances will unfold on their own terms, and even when they seem to coincide with our desires, we remain forever at their mercy.
We are kidding ourselves when we say that we have “earned” some worldly reward, because the choices of others, and the subtle workings of fate, which will usually appear as random to our clouded vision, are far beyond our power.
No, I am at my best when I put my trust in my own character, which alone remains for me to determine. Though an enemy may take my property, or my comforts, or my reputation, or even my very life, he has no authority over my judgments, unless I have already decided to surrender them. For all the pain another might inflict, it pales in comparison to the harm I inflict upon myself once I abandon my nature.
I should not blame a man for being rich, or even for being greedy. Let me find joy in attending to my own virtues, which is the only way I can encourage him to help himself. The greatest wealth lies within.
—Reflection written in 5/1999
IMAGE: Franco-Flemish School, Temperance (c. 1780)
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