Henry David Thoreau 18

The perception of beauty is a moral test. 

—from Henry David Thoreau, Journals (21 June, 1852) 

IMAGE: Giovanni De Min, The Choice of Hercules (1812) 

Seneca, Moral Letters 83.7

Lucius Piso, the Director of Public Safety at Rome, was drunk from the very time of his appointment. He used to spend the greater part of the night at banquets, and would sleep until noon. That was the way he spent his morning hours. 
 
Nevertheless, he applied himself most diligently to his official duties, which included the guardianship of the city. Even the sainted Augustus trusted him with secret orders when he placed him in command of Thrace. Piso conquered that country. 
 
Tiberius, too, trusted him when he took his holiday in Campania, leaving behind him in the city many a critical matter that aroused both suspicion and hatred.
 
I fancy that it was because Piso’s drunkenness turned out well for the Emperor that he appointed to the office of city prefect Cossus, a man of authority and balance, but so soaked and steeped in drink that once, at a meeting of the Senate, whither he had come after banqueting, he was overcome by a slumber from which he could not be roused, and had to be carried home. 
 
It was to this man that Tiberius sent many orders, written in his own hand—orders which he believed he ought not to trust even to the officials of his household. Cossus never let a single secret slip out, whether personal or public. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 83 
 
I have a huge supply of shocking stories about drinking, some from my own time as a boozer, and others from my later attempts at helping others to kick the habit. The vast majority of them will remain locked in the vault, because I have never found much use in embarrassing anyone, but a very few, made suitably anonymous, can serve as cautionary tales, which have an uncanny way of reminding us how easy it is to go over the edge. 
 
Every year or so, an old bar companion will call me to reminisce about our inane attempts at making it to an exclusive house party, where we knew the top-shelf liquor would flow freely and there would be a mountain of cocaine on the coffee table. His car ended up abandoned in a field, while I somehow walked across six lanes of the interstate, and when we finally stared at each other in the fancy kitchen, we suddenly knew we had both hit rock bottom. 
 
And why do we go through this annual ritual of digging up the past? It actually restores our shared commitment to self-restraint, because there are times when being scared straight is the best remedy. Sarcastically saying “Yeah, good times!” is a way of restoring our supply of fortitude; I oddly find myself looking forward to the next recounting. 
 
The accounts of Piso and Cossus as “functional alcoholics” leave me with mixed feelings. On the one hand, their exploits appear harmless enough, perhaps even eccentric and charming, while on the other hand, I am all too aware that these can never be the ways of decent men. I do not think that Seneca is trying to absolve them of their sins, but he is rather cautioning us against the hysteria of the pearl-clutchers, who find it so easy to cast someone aside by attaching a cheap stigma. 
 
That fellow who accompanied me on the ridiculous quest to fry our brains? He was already someone of importance back then, and he holds a position of even greater responsibility now. There is no evasion in saying that he was extremely good in some ways, though also extremely bad in others. 
 
Don’t always believe the moral caricatures painted by the prigs and the prudes, who will gladly throw out the baby with the bathwater. For there to be something wrong does not mean that there can be nothing right; if they were correct, it would be impossible for any of us to ever improve. 

—Reflection written in 12/2013 

IMAGE: Peter Paul Rubens, Drunken Hercules (c. 1616) 

Dio Chrysostom, On Kingship 1.5

"So with these considerations in mind he despatched Hermes, after instructing him as to what he should do. Hermes therefore came to Thebes, where the lad Heracles was being reared, and told him who he was and who had sent him. Then, taking him in charge, he led him over a secret path untrodden of man till he came to a conspicuous and very lofty mountain-peak whose sides were dreadfully steep with sheer precipices and with the deep gorge of a river that encompassed it, whence issued a mighty rumbling and roaring. 

"Now to anyone looking up from below the crest above seemed single; but it was in fact double, rising from a single base; and the two peaks were far indeed from each other. The one of them bore the name Peak Royal and was sacred to Zeus the King; the other, Peak Tyrannous, was named after the giant Typhon. There were two approaches to them from without, each having one. The path that led to Peak Royal was safe and broad, so that a person mounted on a car might enter thereby without peril or mishap, if he had the permission of the greatest of the gods. The other was narrow, crooked, and difficult, so that most of those who attempted it were lost over the cliffs and in the flood below, the reason being, methinks, that they transgressed justice in taking that path. 

"Now, as I have said, to most persons the two peaks appear to be practically one and undivided, inasmuch as they see them from a distance; but in fact Peak Royal towers so high above the other that it stands above the clouds in the pure and serene ether itself, whereas the other is much lower, lying in the very thick of the clouds, wrapped in darkness and fog.

"Hermes then explained the nature of the place to Heracles as he led him thither. But when Heracles, ambitious youth that he was, longed to see what was within, he said, 'Follow, then, that you may see with your own eyes the difference in all other respects also, things hidden from the foolish.' 

"He therefore took him first to the loftier peak and showed him a woman seated upon a resplendent throne. She was beautiful and stately, clothed in white raiment, and held in her hand a scepter, not of gold or silver, but of a different substance, pure and much brighter—a figure for all the world like the pictures of Hera. Her countenance was at once radiant and full of dignity, so that all the good could behold it without fear, but no evil person could gaze upon it any more than a man with weak eyes can look up at the orb of the sun; composed and steadfast was her mien, and her glance did not waver. A profound stillness and unbroken quiet pervaded the place; everywhere were fruits in abundance and thriving animals of every species. And immense heaps of gold and silver were there, and of bronze and iron; yet she heeded not at all the gold, nor did she take delight in it, but rather in the fruits and living creatures.

"Now when Heracles beheld the woman, he was abashed and blushes mantled his cheeks, for he felt that respect and reverence for her which a good son feels for a noble mother. Then he asked Hermes which of the deities she was, and he replied, 'Lo, that is the blessed Lady Royalty, child of King Zeus.' 

"And Heracles rejoiced and took courage in her presence. And again he asked about the women who were with her. 'Who are they?' said he; 'how decorous and stately, like men in countenance!' 

"'Behold,' he replied, 'she who sits there at her right hand, whose glance is both fierce and gentle, is Justice, aglow with a surpassing and resplendent beauty. Beside her sits Civic Order, who is very much like her and differs but slightly in appearance. On the other side is a woman exceeding beautiful, daintily attired, and smiling benignly; they call her Peace. But he who stands near Royalty, just beside the scepter and somewhat in front of it, a strong man, grey-haired and proud, has the name of Law; but he has also been called Right Reason, Counsellor, Coadjutor, without whom these women are not permitted to take any action or even to purpose one.' 

"With all that he heard and saw Heracles was delighted, and he paid close attention, determined never to forget it. But when they had come down from the higher peak and were at the entrance to Tyranny, Hermes said, 'Look this way and behold the other woman. It is with her that the majority of men are infatuated and to win her they give themselves much trouble of every kind, committing murder, wretches that they are, son often conspiring against father, father against son, and brother against brother, since they covet and count as felicity that which is the greatest evil—power conjoined with folly.'​ 

"He then began by showing Heracles the nature of the entrance, explaining that whereas only one pathway appeared to view, that being about as described above—perilous and skirting the very edge of the precipice—yet there were many unseen and hidden corridors, and that the entire region was undermined on every side and tunneled, no doubt up to the very throne, and that all the passages and bypaths were smeared with blood and strewn with corpses. Through none, however, of these passages did Hermes lead him, but along the outside one that was less befouled, because, I think, Heracles was to be a mere observer. 

"When they entered, they discovered Tyranny seated aloft, of set purpose counterfeiting and making herself like to Royalty, but, as she imagined, on a far loftier and more splendid throne, since it was not only adorned with innumerable carvings, but embellished besides with inlaid patterns of gold, ivory, amber, ebony, and substances of every color. Her throne, however, was not secure upon its foundation nor firmly settled, but shook and slouched upon its legs. And in general things were in disorder, everything suggesting vainglory, ostentation, and luxury—many scepters, many tiaras and diadems for the head. 

"Furthermore, in her zeal to imitate the character of the other woman, instead of the friendly smile Tyranny wore a leer of false humility, and instead of a glance of dignity she had an ugly and forbidding scowl. But in order to assume the appearance of pride, she would not glance at those whom came into her presence but looked over their heads disdainfully. And so everybody hated her, and she herself ignored everybody. She was unable to sit with composure, but would cast her eyes incessantly in every direction, frequently springing up from her throne. She hugged her gold to her bosom in a disgusting manner and then in terror would fling it from her in a heap, then she would forthwith snatch at whatever any passer-by might have, were it never so little. 

"Her raiment was of many colors, purple, scarlet and saffron, with patches of white, too, showing here and there from her skirts, since her cloak was torn in many places. From her countenance glowed all manners of colors​ according to whether she felt terror or anguish or suspicion or anger; while at one moment she seemed prostrate with grief, at another she appeared to be in an exaltation of joy. At one time a quite wanton smile would come over her face, but at the next moment she would be in tears. 

"There was also a throng of women about her, but they resembled in no respect those whom I have described as in attendance upon Royalty. These were Cruelty, Insolence, Lawlessness, and Faction, all of whom were bent upon corrupting her and bringing her to ignoble ruin. And instead of Friendship, Flattery was there, servile and avaricious and no less ready for treachery than any of the others, nay rather, zealous above all things to destroy.

"Now when Heracles had viewed all this also to his heart's content, Hermes asked him which of the two scenes pleased him and which of the two women. 

"'Why, it is the other one,' said he, 'whom I admire and love, and she seems to me a veritable goddess, enviable and worthy to be accounted blest; this second woman, on the other hand, I consider so utterly odious and abominable that I would gladly thrust her down from this peak and thus put an end to her.' 

"Whereupon Hermes commended Heracles for this utterance and repeated it to Zeus, who entrusted him with the kingship over all mankind as he considered him equal to the trust.​ And so wherever Heracles discovered a tyranny and a tyrant, he chastised and destroyed them, among Greeks and barbarians alike; but wherever he found a kingdom and a king, he would give honor and protection." 

This, she maintained, was what made him Deliverer of the earth and of the human race, not the fact that he defended them from the savage beasts—for how little damage could a lion or a wild bear inflict?—nay, it was the fact that he chastised savage and wicked men, and crushed and destroyed the power of overweening tyrants. And even to this day Heracles continues this work and you have in him a helper and protector of your government as long as it is vouchsafed you to reign. 

Dio Chrysostom, On Kingship 1.4

Once when I chanced to be wandering in exile—and great is my gratitude to the gods that they thus prevented my becoming an eyewitness of many an act of injustice​—I visited as many lands as possible, at one time going among the Greeks, at another among barbarians, assuming the guise and dress of a vagabond beggar, 

Demanding crusts, not caldrons fine or swords.  

At last I arrived in the Peloponnesus, and keeping quite aloof from the cities, spent my time in the country, as being quite well worth study, mingling with herdsmen and hunters, an honest folk of simple habits. As I walked along the Alpheus on my way from Heraea to Pisa,​  I succeeded in finding the road for some distance, but all at once I got into some wood land and rough country, where a number of trails led to sundry herds and flocks, without meeting anybody or being able to inquire my way. So I lost my direction, and at high noon was quite astray. 

But noti­cing on a high knoll a clump of oaks that looked like a sacred grove, I made my way thither in the hope of discovering from it some roadway or house. There I found blocks of stone set roughly together, hanging pelts of animals that had been sacrificed, and a number of clubs and staves—all evidently being dedications of herdsmen. At a little distance I saw a woman sitting, strong and tall though rather advanced in years, dressed like a rustic and with some braids of grey hair falling about her shoulders. 

Of her I made full inquiry about the place, and she most graciously and kindly, speaking in the Dorian dialect, informed me that it was sacred to Heracles and, regarding herself, that she had a son, a shepherd, whose sheep she often tendered herself. She also said that the Mother of the Gods​ had given her the gift of divination and that all the herdsmen and farmers round about consulted her on the raising and preservation of their crops and cattle. 

"And you too," she continued, "have come into this place by no mere human chance, for I shall not let you depart unblest." 

Thereupon she at once began to prophesy, saying that the period of my wandering and tribulation would not be long, nay, nor that of mankind at large. The manner of her prophesying was not that of most men and women who are said to be inspired; she did not gasp for breath, whirl her head about, or try to terrify with her glances, but spoke with entire self-control and moderation. 

"Someday," she said, "you will meet a mighty man, the ruler of very many lands and peoples. Do not hesitate to tell him this tale of mine even if there be those who will ridicule you for a prating vagabond. For the words of men and all their subtleties are as naught in comparison with the inspiration and speech due to the promptings of the gods. Indeed, of all the words of wisdom and truth current among men about the gods and the Universe, none have ever found lodgment in the souls of men except by the will and ordering of heaven and through the lips of the prophets and holy men of old. 

"For instance, they say there once lived in Thrace a certain Orpheus, a Muse's son; and on a certain mountain of Boeotia another, a shepherd who heard the voices of the Muses themselves.​ Those teachers, on the other hand, who without divine possession and inspiration have circulated as true stories born of their own imaginings are presumptuous and wicked.

"Hear, therefore, the following tale and listen with vigilance and attention that you may remember it clearly and pass it on to that man whom I say you will meet. It has to do with this god in whose presence we now are. 

"Heracles was, as all men agree, the son of Zeus and Alcmene, and he was king not only of Argos but of all Greece. (Most people, however, do not know that Heracles was continually absent from Argos because he was engaged in making expeditions and defending his kingdom, but they assert that Eurystheus was king at this time. These, however, are but their idle tales.) And he was not only king of Greece, but also held empire over every land from the rising of the sun to the setting thereof, aye, over all peoples where are found shrines of Heracles. He had a simple education too, with none of the elaboration and superfluity devised by the unscrupulous cleverness of contemptible men.

"This, also, is told of Heracles: that he went unclothed and unarmed except for a lion's skin and a club, and they add that he did not set great store by gold or silver or fine raiment, but considered all such things worth nothing save to be given away and bestowed upon others. At any rate he made presents to many men, not only of money without limit and lands and herds of horses and cattle, but also of whole kingdoms and cities. For he fully believed that everything belonged to him exclusively and that gifts bestowed would call out the good-will of the recipients. 

"Another story which men tell is untrue: that he actually went about alone without an army. For it is not possible to overturn cities, cast down tyrants, and to dictate to the whole world without armed forces. It is only because, being self-reliant, zealous of soul, and competent in body, he surpassed all men in labor, that the story arose that he travelled alone and accomplished single-handed whatsoever he desired. 

"Moreover, his father took great pains with him, implanting in him noble impulses and bringing him into the fellow­ship of good men. He would also give him guidance for each and every enterprise through birds and burnt offerings and every other kind of divination. 

"And when he saw that the lad wished to be a ruler, not through desire for pleasure and personal gain, which leads most men to love power, but that he might be able to do the greatest good to the greatest number, he recognized that his son was naturally of noble parts, and yet suspected how much in him was mortal and thought of the many baneful examples of luxurious and licentious living among mankind, and of the many men there were to entice a youth of fine natural qualities away from his true nature and his principles even against his will."

Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 4.15

M. Since I have spoken before of virtue in other places, and shall often have occasion to speak again (for a great many questions that relate to life and manners arise from the spring of virtue); and since, as I say, virtue consists in a settled and uniform affection of mind, making those persons praiseworthy who are possessed of her, she herself also, independent of anything else, without regard to any advantage, must be praiseworthy; for from her proceed good inclinations, opinions, actions, and the whole of right reason; though virtue may be defined in a few words to be right reason itself. 
 
The opposite to this is viciousness (for so I choose to translate what the Greeks call κακία, rather than by perverseness; for perverseness is the name of a particular vice; but viciousness includes all), from whence arise those perturbations which, as I just now said, are turbid and violent motions of the mind, repugnant to reason, and enemies in a high degree to the peace of the mind and a tranquil life. 
 
For they introduce piercing and anxious cares, and afflict and debilitate the mind through fear; they violently inflame our hearts with exaggerated appetite, which is in reality an impotence of mind, utterly irreconcilable with temperance and moderation, which we sometimes call desire, and sometimes lust, and which, should it even attain the object of its wishes, immediately becomes so elated that it loses all its resolution, and knows not what to pursue; so that he was in the right who said “that exaggerated pleasure was the very greatest of mistakes.” 
 
Virtue, then, alone can effect the cure of these evils. 

—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 4.15 
 
From all those years of reflecting on various Wisdom Traditions, my head now takes it as certain that virtue is the highest human good, even as my gut would often like to tell me otherwise. At the very least, I know in which direction I should be aiming, though sadly that aim will still fall short. I accept it to be a lifelong process, precisely because it is the most essential of all tasks. 
 
I must still remind myself, however, that so many of the people I come across in this life do not share in my convictions, and that is itself the challenge of choosing to love those who do not themselves rate love so highly. On a purely practical level, folks will grant that moral decency is somehow important, and yet they will then offer a lengthy list of other things they believe to be equally important, wishing to have it in as many ways as possible. We too quickly forget that warning about trying to serve two masters. 
 
So, the default position, the one that sounds the safest and the least demanding, is to speak of a “good” life as blending together sufficient bits of wealth, pleasure, and reputation, wrapped up in a general appearance of kindness, since that last bit is the one that is usually most effective at providing for the other three. Still, there will be those moments when being “nice” is no longer as convenient, and then we see how quickly the gloves come off. 
 
I think of how Socrates taught that virtue does not come from money, but that from virtue comes money, and all of the other “things” we call good in this life. The benefit or the harm of any circumstance depends entirely on whether we choose to use it well, and this, in turn, hinges upon the presence or absence of character. Wickedness always brings misery, whatever tempting means of gratification is brought into the mix. 
 
Reason provides the direction of order and purpose, while a surrender to a mere impression is a guarantee of being swept away by the extremes of passion. Far from fulfilling us, an unbridled urge is never satisfied, for it knows of no limit, and so it leaves us bound in chains. Socrates, Cicero, or Seneca, like all the wise who praise virtue, are calling us to the total liberty of self-rule, where our judgments guide the way to an inner peace. 

—Reflection written in 1/1999 

IMAGE: Emmanuel Michel Benner, Hercules Choosing Between Virtue and Vice (1899) 

Delphic Maxims 54

Ἦθος δοκίμαζε 

Put character to the test 

IMAGE: Violet Oakley, The Choice of Hercules (1911) 

Epictetus, Discourses 2.5.2

“Do you mean then that outward things are to be used without care?”

 

By no means. For this again is evil for the will and unnatural to it. They must be used with care, for their use is not a matter of indifference, but at the same time with constancy and tranquility, for in themselves they are indifferent. 

 

For where the true value of things is concerned, no one can hinder or compel me. I am subject to hindrance and compulsion only in matters which lie out of my power to win, which are neither good nor evil, but they may be dealt with well or ill, and this rests with me.

 

It is difficult to unite and combine these qualities—the diligence of a man who devotes himself to material things, and the constancy of one who disregards them—yet not impossible. Otherwise, it would be impossible to be happy. 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 2.5 

 

Here is a great danger, of taking a Stoic “indifference” to mean that I should have no concern about the outside world, or that I should withdraw into myself and be reckless about the consequences of my deeds. If it’s all about my thoughts, why not forget the outcome? 

 

The false dichotomies must cease. There is no conflict between my needs and your needs. There is no opposition between intention and action. What Nature asks of me on the inside must be expressed with total integrity on the outside. 

 

I must start from the interior, and work to the exterior. I am unfortunately accustomed to the reverse, the monstrous concept that I must conform, that I must follow, that I must obey the man with the biggest muscles, or the finest credentials, or the thickest wallet. 

 

Where there is a sound mind and a brave heart, there will also be an impeccable commitment to living with virtue—by their fruits shall you know them. Don’t trust the fellow who speaks well, trust the fellow who does well, and strive to share what is good within yourself with those around you. 

 

The error is in thinking that being indifferent means not caring at all, when for the Stoic it is rather a matter of how and why we should care. 

 

The essential task of being human demands the formation of character, and to that end, all other conditions, however convenient or inconvenient, must be measured according to this standard. While all things have their own innate goodness, when I approach my own relationship to them, I am called to consider how I can employ them for the increase of my virtues, and for the decrease of my vices. Everything else is relative. 

 

With such a standard constantly in mind, I need no longer be ruled by my circumstances, but I can be confident in my ability to act rightly, whatever may happen. When I have acted in good conscience, I can then also be certain that, by playing my own part, I have contributed to the harmony and the balance of the whole. 

 

As Epictetus says, this makes for quite the challenge, since it requires both the devotion of a man of principle and the alertness of a man of the world. Yet it becomes possible by following through on our priorities, from the purity within to the justice without. 

—Reflection written in 6/2001 

IMAGE: Jan van den Hoecke, Hercules Between Virtue and Vice (c. 1650) 

Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 3.17

M. Should Pythagoras, Socrates, or Plato say to me, “Why are you dejected or sad? Why do you faint, and yield to fortune, which, perhaps, may have power to harass and disturb you, but should not quite unman you? There is great power in the virtues; rouse them, if they chance to droop. 
 
“Take fortitude for your guide, which will give you such spirits that you will despise everything that can befall man, and look on it as a trifle. 
 
“Add to this temperance, which is moderation, and which was just now called frugality, which will not suffer you to do anything base or bad—for what is worse or baser than an effeminate man? 
 
“Not even justice will suffer you to act in this manner, though she seems to have the least weight in this affair; but still, notwithstanding, even she will inform you that you are doubly unjust when you both require what does not belong to you, inasmuch as though you who have been born mortal demand to be placed in the condition of the immortals, and at the same time you take it much to heart that you are to restore what was lent you. 
 
“What answer will you make to prudence, who informs you that she is a virtue sufficient of herself both to teach you a good life and also to secure you a happy one? And, indeed, if she were fettered by external circumstances, and dependent on others, and if she did not originate in herself and return to herself, and also embrace everything in herself, so as to seek no adventitious aid from any quarter, I cannot imagine why she should appear deserving of such lofty panegyrics, or of being sought after with such excessive eagerness.” 
 
Now, Epicurus, if you call me back to such goods as these, I will obey you, and follow you, and use you as my guide, and even forget, as you order me, all my misfortunes; and I will do this the more readily from a persuasion that they are not to be ranked among evils at all. 
 
But you are for bringing my thoughts over to pleasure. What pleasures? Pleasures of the body, I imagine, or such as are recollected or imagined on account of the body. Is this all? Do I explain your opinion rightly? For your disciples are used to deny that we understand at all what Epicurus means. 
 
This is what he says, and what that subtle fellow, old Zeno, who is one of the sharpest of them, used, when I was attending lectures at Athens, to enforce and talk so loudly of; saying that he alone was happy who could enjoy present pleasure, and who was at the same time persuaded that he should enjoy it without pain, either during the whole or the greatest part of his life; or if, should any pain interfere, if it was very sharp, then it must be short; should it be of longer continuance, it would have more of what was sweet than bitter in it; that whosoever reflected on these things would be happy, especially if satisfied with the good things which he had already enjoyed, and if he were without fear of death or of the Gods. 

—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 3.17 
 
While the hedonism of Epicurus is far from the boundless consumption and gratification we are so familiar with in our everyday lives, it remains a form of hedonism nonetheless, for it still makes the presence of pleasure, however moderated, and the absence of pain, however endured, the necessary conditions for a good life. 
 
Observe how many people will automatically assume that happiness is no more than a subjective feeling, and you will then recognize how deeply imbedded such a dependence on the appetites is in our attitudes. You will be met with a blank stare if you suggest that the value of the passions is relative to the value of the thoughts and the actions that stand behind them. 
 
Neither Cicero nor the admittedly more rigorous Stoic wish to deny the place of the emotions, but they rather argue why they must be understood within the greater context of character. The good man may well feel good about his deeds, but it is the way that he judges and chooses to live that are the root of his self-worth.
 
And so the study and practice of philosophy, undertaken in my own peculiar way, have encouraged me to always ask myself whether I am merely gaining pleasure or seeking after the virtues. Which of these will be my highest goal? 
 
Over the years, the story about Hercules at the Crossroads, where he had to decide between pursuing gratification or conscience as the best path for his life, has become something of an ideal standard for my own choices, however mundane. I believe all of us must make that determination, sooner or later, and when I feel the lure of Pleasure, I then imagine what Virtue might say to offer me a better option. If only I bother to listen, her advice does not steer me wrong. 
 
Pythagoras, Socrates, or Plato always mirror her wisdom, and while different schools of philosophy will stress different methods and principles, those who embrace human nature as essentially rational will also revere moral excellence as the greatest quality any person can possess. 
 
If I have the integrity of my convictions, how can fortune ever stand against me? As long as I am loyal to the cardinal virtues, I can know with certainty that I am doing what I was made to do, for these virtues are the perfection of my very identity. They are the pillars that support happy living. 
 
Fortitude makes worldly obstacles seem insignificant in the face of a noble spirit. 
 
Temperance allows me to rise above temptations by showing me how little I really need. 
 
Justice reminds me to be content with what is my own, and to share freely with my neighbors, so that there is no cause for making an enemy of any man. 
 
Prudence guides me with the fundamental and profound awareness that the happy man is first and foremost the good man. 
 
I can make as much of a fuss as I like about increasing pleasure or diminishing pain, but all of that avoids the more pressing matter of clinging to righteousness and fleeing from wickedness. 

—Reflection written in 10/1996 

IMAGE: Adamo Scultori, Hercules at the Crossroads (c. 1550) 

Xenophon, Memorabilia of Socrates 25

Socrates: ". . . So Hesiod somewhere says:

Wickedness may a man take wholesale with ease, smooth is the way and her dwelling-place is very nigh; but in front of virtue the immortal gods have placed toil and sweat, long is the path and steep that leads to her, and rugged at the first, but when the summit of the pass is reached, then for all its roughness the path grows easy.

"And Ephicharmus bears his testimony when he says:

The gods sell us all good things in return for our labors.

"And again in another passage he exclaims: 

Set not thine heart on soft things, thou knave, lest thou light upon the hard. 

"And that wise man Prodicus delivers himself in a like strain concerning virtue in that composition of his about Heracles, which crowds have listened to. This, as far as I can recollect it, is the substance at least of what he says:

When Heracles was emerging from boyhood into the bloom of youth, having reached that season in which the young man, now standing upon the verge of independence, shows plainly whether he will enter upon the path of virtue or of vice, he went forth into a quiet place, and sat debating with himself which of those two paths he should pursue; and as he there sat musing, there appeared to him two women of great stature which drew nigh to him. 

The one was fair to look upon, frank and free by gift of nature, her limbs adorned with purity and her eyes with bashfulness; sobriety set the rhythm of her gait, and she was clad in white apparel. 

The other was of a different type; the fleshy softness of her limbs betrayed her nurture, while the complexion of her skin was embellished that she might appear whiter and rosier than she really was, and her figure that she might seem taller than nature made her; she stared with wide-open eyes, and the raiment wherewith she was clad served but to reveal the ripeness of her bloom. With frequent glances she surveyed her person, or looked to see if others noticed her; while ever and anon she fixed her gaze upon the shadow of herself intently. 

Now when these two had drawn near to Heracles, she who was first named advanced at an even pace towards him, but the other, in her eagerness to outstrip her, ran forward to the youth, exclaiming:

"I see you, Heracles, in doubt and difficulty what path of life to choose; make me your friend, and I will lead you to the pleasantest road and easiest. This I promise you: you shall taste all of life's sweets and escape all bitters. 

"In the first place, you shall not trouble your brain with war or business; other topics shall engage your mind; your only speculation, what meat or drink you shall find agreeable to your palate; what delight of ear or eye; what pleasure of smell or touch; what darling lover's intercourse shall most enrapture you; how you shall pillow your limbs in softest slumber; how cull each individual pleasure without alloy of pain; and if ever the suspicion steal upon you that the stream of joys will one day dwindle, trust me I will not lead you where you shall replenish the store by toil of body and trouble of soul. 

"No! Others shall labor, but you shall reap the fruit of their labors; you shall withhold your hand from nought which shall bring you gain. For to all my followers I give authority and power to help themselves freely from every side." 

Heracles hearing these words made answer: 

"What, O lady, is the name you bear?"

 To which she: 

"Know that my friends call be Happiness, but they that hate me have their own nicknames for me, Vice and Naughtiness." 

But just then the other of those fair women approached and spoke: 

"Heracles, I too am come to you, seeing that your parents are well known to me, and in your nurture I have gauged your nature; wherefore I entertain good hope that if you choose the path which leads to me, you shall greatly bestir yourself to be the doer of many a doughty deed of noble emprise; and that I too shall be held in even higher honor for your sake, lit with the luster shed by valorous deeds. 

"I will not cheat you with preludings of pleasure, but I will relate to you the things that are according to the ordinances of God in very truth. Know then that among things that are lovely and of good report, not one have the gods bestowed upon mortal men apart from toil and pains. 

"Would you obtain the favor of the gods, then must you pay these same gods service; would you be loved by your friends, you must benefit these friends; do you desire to be honored by the state, you must give the state your aid; do you claim admiration for your virtue from all Hellas, you must strive to do some good to Hellas; do you wish earth to yield her fruits to you abundantly, to earth must you pay your court; do you seek to amass riches from your flocks and herds, on them must you bestow your labor; or is it your ambition to be potent as a warrior, able to save your friends and to subdue your foes, then must you learn the arts of war from those who have the knowledge, and practise their application in the field when learned; or would you e'en be powerful of limb and body, then must you habituate limbs and body to obey the mind, and exercise yourself with toil and sweat." 

At this point, as Prodicus relates, Vice broke in exclaiming: 

"See you, Heracles, how hard and long the road is by which yonder woman would escort you to her festal joys. But I will guide you by a short and easy road to happiness." 

Then spoke Virtue: 

"Nay, wretched one, what good thing hast thou? or what sweet thing art thou acquainted with—that wilt stir neither hand nor foot to gain it? Thou, that mayest not even await the desire of pleasure, but, or ever that desire springs up, art already satiated; eating before thou hungerest, and drinking before thou thirsteth; who to eke out an appetite must invent an army of cooks and confectioners; and to whet thy thirst must lay down costliest wines, and run up and down in search of ice in summer-time; to help thy slumbers soft coverlets suffice not, but couches and feather-beds must be prepared thee and rockers to rock thee to rest; since desire for sleep in thy case springs not from toil but from vacuity and nothing in the world to do. Even the natural appetite of love thou forcest prematurely by every means thou mayest devise, confounding the sexes in thy service. Thus thou educatest thy friends: with insult in the night season and drowse of slumber during the precious hours of the day. 

"Immortal, thou art cast forth from the company of gods, and by good men art dishonored: that sweetest sound of all, the voice of praise, has never thrilled thine ears; and the fairest of all fair visions is hidden from thine eyes that have never beheld one bounteous deed wrought by thine own hand. If thou openest thy lips in speech, who will believe thy word? If thou hast need of aught, none shall satisfy thee. What sane man will venture to join thy rablle rout? Ill indeed are thy revellers to look upon, young men impotent of body, and old men witless in mind: in the heyday of life they batten in sleek idleness, and wearily do they drag through an age of wrinkled wretchedness: and why? They blush with shame at the thought of deeds done in the past, and groan for weariness at what is left to do. During their youth they ran riot through their sweet things, and laid up for themselves large store of bitterness against the time of eld. 

"But my companionship is with the gods; and with the good among men my conversation; no bounteous deed, divine or human, is wrought without my aid. Therefore am I honored in Heaven pre-eminently, and upon earth among men whose right it is to honor me; as a beloved fellow-worker of all craftsmen; a faithful guardian of house and lands, whom the owners bless; a kindly helpmeet of servants; a brave assistant in the labors of peace; an unflinching ally in the deeds of war; a sharer in all friendships indispensable. 

"To my friends is given an enjoyment of meats and drinks, which is sweet in itself and devoid of trouble, in that they can endure until desire ripens, and sleep more delicious visits them than those who toil not. Yet they are not pained to part with it; nor for the sake of slumber do they let slip the performance of their duties. Among my followers the youth delights in the praises of his elders, and the old man glories in the honor of the young; with joy they call to memory their deeds of old, and in today's well-doing are well pleased. For my sake they are dear in the sight of God, beloved of their friends and honored by the country of their birth. When the appointed goal is reached they lie not down in oblivion with dishonor, but bloom afresh—their praise resounded on the lips of men for ever. 

"Toils like these, O son of noble parents, Heracles, it is yours to meet with, and having endured, to enter into the heritage assured you of transcendent happiness."

"This, Aristippus, in rough sketch is the theme which Prodicus pursues in his Education of Heracles by Virtue, only he decked out his sentiments, I admit, in far more magnificent phrases than I have ventured on. 

"Were it not well, Aristippus, to lay to heart these sayings, and to strive to bethink you somewhat of that which touches the future of our life?" 

—from Xenophon, Memorabilia 2.1 

IMAGE: Albrecht Dürer, Hercules at the Crossroads (1498) 

The Labors of Hercules 12

Hans Sebald Beham, Hercules Dragging Cerberus from the Underworld (1545) 

Francisco de Zurbaran, Hercules and Cerberus (1634) 

Peter Paul Rubens, Hercules and Cerberus (c. 1637) 

Johann Köler, Heracles Brings Cerberus from the Gates of Hell (1855) 

The Labors of Hercules 11

Lucas Cranach the Elder, Hercules Steals the Apples of the Hesperides (c. 1540) 

Lorenzo Vaiani, Hercules Killing the Dragon in the Garden of the Hesperides (1568) 

Peter Paul Rubens, Hercules Killing the Dragon in the Garden of the Hesperides (1640) 

The Labors of Hercules 10

Attic amphora, Heracles Fighting Geryon (6th century BC) 

Lucas Cranach the Elder, Hercules and the Cattle of Geryon (c. 1537)  

Francisco de Zurbaran, Hercules Defeats King Geryon (1634) 

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Antoon Claessens, The Magic Girdle of Hippolyta, Queen of the Amazons (c. 1580) 

Nikolaus Knüpfer, Hercules Obtaining the Girdle of Hippolyta (c. 1620) 

Eugene Delacroix, Hercules and Hippolyta (c. 1850) 

The Labors of Hercules 8

Antonio Tempesta, Hercules and the Mare of Diomedes (1608) 

Jean-Baptiste Marie Pierre, Diomedes King of Thrace Killed by Heracles and Devoured by His Own Horses (1752) 

Gustave Moreau, Diomedes Devoured by His Horses (1865) 

The Labors of Hercules 7

Francisco de Zurbaran, Hercules and the Cretan Bull (1634) 

B. Picart, Hercules Captures the Cretan Bull (1731) 

Lorenzo Mattielli, Hercules Captures the Cretan Bull (1729)