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Carl Hasenpflug, The Ruins of Walkenried Abbey in Winter (1843) 

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Karl Friedrich Lessing, Rocky Landscape: Gorge with Ruins (1830) 

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Leopold Schulz, Gothic Church Ruins on the Mediterranean (1842) 

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Charles-Caius Renoux, Pilgrims Praying at the Ruins of an Abbey (1825) 

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Carl Gustav Carus, View of the Colosseum by Night (c. 1830) 

Ruins 18

Jan de Momper, Landscape with Ruins and Wayfarers (c. 1660) 

Maxims of Goethe 77

We all live on the past, and through the past are destroyed. 

IMAGE: Hubert Robert, Roman Ruins (c. 1760) 

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Jean-Francois Depelchin, Fantasy Ruins with Pastoral Scene (c. 1800) 

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Ludwig Kohl, Ruins of a Gothic Cathedral (1820) 

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Thomas Cole, The Roman Campagna (1843) 

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Thomas Cole, The Ruins of Taormina (1842) 

Seneca, Moral Letters 79.3

Now if Aetna does not make your mouth water, I am mistaken in you. You have for some time been desirous of writing something in the grand style and on the level of the older school. For your modesty does not allow you to set your hopes any higher; this quality of yours is so pronounced that, it seems to me, you are likely to curb the force of your natural ability, if there should be any danger of outdoing others; so greatly do you reverence the old masters.
 
Wisdom has this advantage, among others—that no man can be outdone by another, except during the climb. But when you have arrived at the top, it is a draw; there is no room for further ascent, the game is over. 
 
Can the sun add to his size? Can the moon advance beyond her usual fulness? The seas do not increase in bulk. The Universe keeps the same character, the same limits. Things which have reached their full stature cannot grow higher. 
 
Men who have attained wisdom will therefore be equal and on the same footing. Each of them will possess his own peculiar gifts: one will be more affable, another more facile, another more ready of speech, a fourth more eloquent; but as regards the quality under discussion—the element that produces happiness—it is equal in them all.
 
I do not know whether this Aetna of yours can collapse and fall in ruins, whether this lofty summit, visible for many miles over the deep sea, is wasted by the incessant power of the flames; but I do know that virtue will not be brought down to a lower plane either by flames or by ruins. 
 
Hers is the only greatness that knows no lowering; there can be for her no further rising or sinking. Her stature, like that of the stars in the heavens, is fixed. Let us therefore strive to raise ourselves to this altitude. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 79 
 
This section strikes awfully close to home, for I have long been prone to selling myself short. I could easily try to blame the bullies and the beautiful people, for regularly reminding me how I wasn’t good enough, though I really know that the fault has always been my own. Let another man compete where there is no need to compete, and let me remember why the good life is never about winning a race. 
 
While Lucilius may feel intimidated by the greatness of the writers who came before him, his work must stand on its own merits. Perhaps just one entrepreneur can negotiate the lucrative contract, or only one athlete can win the gold medal, but in the end, happiness is not about the fortune and the fame. Once obtained, however we might manage to approach them, wisdom and virtue leave nothing more to be desired, and there is no limited supply, reserved for the select few. 
 
There is good reason why the analogy of climbing a mountain is so universal, even as I fear that too many of us are now denied such a rousing experience; begrudgingly taking the stairs when the elevator is broken is hardly the same. The various paths may be straight or winding, steep or gradual, long or short, scenic or bleak, yet we all hope to arrive at the very same summit. And after we reach that peak, no one wanderer is better or worse than any other. 
 
Whatever our peculiarities, and wherever we may have come from, the destination is shared in common, and it admits of no rank. If I care solely for the content of character, it will make little difference how any of us got there, or what baggage we carried with us. When understanding and love are the goal, there is no call for pretending to be special, as the accidents fall away from the essence. 
 
Consider how any rivalry must immediately cease, when a peace of mind has been achieved. Where there is prudence, there is no malice. Where there is fortitude, there is no doubt. Where there is temperance, there is no lust. Where there is justice, there is no envy. Name the human failing, and the virtues will always remove it, one person at a time. 
 
We only stumble if our priorities are out of order. All schemes must eventually fail, and every empire will surely crumble, but a soul filled with integrity is unassailable, because virtue is itself the pinnacle of our human nature. I am well-advised to recall this, the next time I find myself hindered by any fear or resentment about being good enough. 

—Reflection written in 11/2013

IMAGE: Thomas Cole, Mount Etna from Taormina (1843) 

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Louis Daguerre, The Ruins of Holyrood Chapel (c. 1824) 

Ruins 12

Henry Bright, Hadleigh Castle (c. 1850) 

Delphic Maxims 64

Δικαίως κτῶ 

Gain possessions justly 

IMAGE: Jan van Buken, An Italianate Market Scene with Remnants of a Roman Temple (c. 1680) 

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Jan Bruegel the Elder, Coastal Landscape with Fishermen and Ruins of the Temple of Minerva Medica (c. 1620) 

Plutarch, The Life of Cato the Younger 18

Moreover, the multitude were captivated by his continuous and unwearied attention to his duties. For no one of his colleagues came up to the treasury earlier than Cato, and none left it later. 

Besides, no session of assembly or senate would he fail to attend, since he feared and kept close watch on those who were ready to gratify people by voting remissions of debts and taxes, or promiscuous gifts. And so by exhibiting a treasury which was inaccessible to public informers and free from their taint, but full of money, he taught men that a state can be rich without wronging its citizens. 

At first some of his colleagues thought him obnoxious and troublesome, but afterwards they were well pleased with him, since he took upon his own shoulders exclusively the burden of the hatreds arising from refusal to give away the public moneys or to make unjust decisions, and furnished them with a defense against people who tried to force requests upon them. They would say, namely, "It is impossible; Cato will not consent." 

On the last day of his term of office, after he had been escorted to his house by almost the whole body of citizens, he heard that many friends of Marcellus and men of influence had closely beset him in the treasury, and were trying to force him to register some remission of moneys due. 

Now, Marcellus had been a friend of Cato from boyhood, and when associated with him had been a most excellent magistrate. When acting by himself, however, he was led by a feeling of deference to be complaisant towards suppliants, and was inclined to grant every favor. 

At once, then, Cato turned back, and when he found that Marcellus had been forced to register the remission, he asked for the tablets and erased the entry, while Marcellus himself stood by and said nothing. After this had been done, Cato conducted Marcellus away from the treasury and brought him to his house, and Marcellus had no word of blame for him either then or afterwards, but continued his intimate friendship up to the end. 

However, not even after he had laid down the quaestor­ship did Cato leave the treasury destitute of his watchful care, but slaves of his were there every day copying the transactions, and he himself paid five talents for books containing accounts of the public business from the times of Sulla down to his own quaestor­ship, and always had them in hand. 

IMAGE: Canaletto, Rome: Ruins of the Forum, Looking toward the Capitol (1742) 

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Gillis Neyts, Landscape with the ruins of César Castle at Vaulx-Lez-Tournai (c. 1660) 

A Philosopher

Philip James de Loutherbourg, A Philosopher in a Moonlit Churchyard (1790) 

Seneca, Moral Letters 68.5

Then you say: "Is it retirement, Seneca, that you are recommending to me? You will soon be falling back upon the maxims of Epicurus!" 
 
I do recommend retirement to you, but only that you may use it for greater and more beautiful activities than those which you have resigned; to knock at the haughty doors of the influential, to make alphabetical lists of childless old men, to wield the highest authority in public life—this kind of power exposes you to hatred, is short-lived, and, if you rate it at its true value, is tawdry.
 
One man shall be far ahead of me as regards his influence in public life, another in salary as an army officer and in the position which results from this, another in the throng of his clients; but it is worthwhile to be outdone by all these men, provided that I myself can outdo Fortune. And I am no match for her in the throng; she has the greater backing. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 68 
 
The intellectual always runs the risk of becoming an elitist, and of believing that his special insights excuse him from rubbing shoulders with the unwashed masses. He may be right to note how his willingness to reflect makes him different, perhaps painfully so, and yet he is mistaken in assuming he must therefore insulate himself. 
 
For man to be rational he must also be social, though how he expresses such a commitment to his fellows may not fit into the usual pigeonholes. When human dignity is defined by character instead of circumstance, the appeal of fortune and fame will gradually fade, and blind conformity will give way to a conscience that is no longer intimidated by fashion. The good man goes his own way, even as he is hardly running away; he loves his neighbors, but he feels no need to pander to them. 
 
While the Epicureans would often suggest withdrawing from society as much as possible, the Stoics recognized why the part has no purpose without the whole. Retiring from the life of the busybody means casting off all the flashy ornaments, and so returning to the simplicity of our nature. It may look like idleness or isolation to the go-getters, yet that is only because they have no conception of a value without a price tag. 
 
The genuine activity of this life is to understand and to love, not to see and to be seen; the greatest vitality is in nurturing the soul, not in putting on a show. Permit others to beg for promotions, or scheme about investments, or feud with their enemies, though also be ready to offer them comfort and encouragement when they have reduced themselves to nervous wrecks. 
 
There is never any need either to surrender or to flee from Fortune: fools aim to conquer her on her terms, but the wise know to rise above her on Nature’s terms. A philosopher finds peace of mind by not allowing his happiness to be decided by a toss of the dice or the end of a stick. 

—Reflection written in 8/2013 

IMAGE: Jan Adriaensz van Staveren, A Hermit in a Ruin (c. 1660)