Vanitas 2

Antonio de Pereda, Allegory of Vanity (c. 1636)

Standards

"Professional standards, the standards of ambition and selfishness, are always sliding downward toward expense, ostentation, and mediocrity. They tend always to narrow the ground of judgment. But amateur standards, the standards of love, are always straining upward toward the humble and the best. They enlarge the ground of judgment. The context of love is the world."

—Wendell Berry, "The Responsibility of the Poet", from What Are People For? (1990)

 

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 2.7

All these symptoms become aggravated when their dislike of a laborious misery has driven them to idleness and to secret studies, which are unendurable to a mind eager to take part in public affairs, desirous of action and naturally restless, because, of course, it finds too few resources within itself.

When therefore it loses the amusement which business itself affords to busy men, it cannot endure home, loneliness, or the walls of a room, and regards itself with dislike when left to itself.

Recognizing my restlessness, I then become painfully conscious of the emptiness inside me, and I dread having to face my own thoughts. Distracting myself is suddenly just an empty chore, even as it seems that everyone else is quite content with it.

I have, after all, been told that the best way to get ahead in life is to constantly be busy, continually occupied with one task after another, so that I may then have a feeling of accomplishment and worth. But I find no achievement in any of it, and I would laugh if it didn’t make me cringe. It is much like trying to sit patiently at a table and not knowing what to do with my hands.

Others will go on looking busy, yet I can only wonder if they are just putting on a show, because I am surely not the only one who doesn’t like gazing in the mirror. What am I afraid of? It can only be that I don’t like what I am going to see.

I really haven’t nurtured what is inside of me all that well, have I? Without the outside to occupy my attention, the silence is rather deafening. I know that it shouldn’t be that way, so I am ashamed in addition to being frustrated.

I think of Blaise Pascal, who tells us in the Pensées that all our miseries come from an inability to be alone with ourselves. I will make the reference quite often, since I sense how it goes straight to the cause of our deepest worries. People will thoughtfully nod in agreement, and then, after a brief silence, everyone starts changing the subject.

I push myself a bit further into the text, forcing myself to swallow more of the bitter medicine:

He who does not see the vanity of the world is himself very vain. Indeed who do not see it but youths who are absorbed in fame, diversion, and the thought of the future?

But take away diversion, and you will see them dried up with weariness. They feel then their nothingness without knowing it; for it is indeed to be unhappy to be in insufferable sadness as soon as we are reduced to thinking of self, and have no diversion.

If our condition were truly happy, we would not need diversion from thinking of it in order to make ourselves happy.

What is so terrible about being in my room, at home, alone? It can only be that I don’t particularly enjoy my own company. It only remains for me to ask whose job it is to do something about that.

Written in 5/2011

Stoic Conversations 23

"So she tells me she won't talk to me until I stop drinking, and I tell her I won't stop drinking until she talks to me. I swear, I'm going to sit her out on this one!"

"No, you won't. A drunk man always passes out before an angry woman gives up. The next morning you'll regret it, and she'll still be angry."

"Maybe you can have a word with her? She just needs to know that I'll stop if she stops first."

"Or maybe you could just do the right thing, just because it's right, and make your decision your own. Don't take a drink, just for today, whether she talks to you or not."

"I get it, I show her by being the better man!"

"No, if you do anything just to show her, there is no way you will ever be a better man."

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 3.8

For as there is no merit in the science of medicine unless it conduces to the healing of man's body, so if a philosopher has or teaches reason, it is of no use if it does not contribute to the virtue of man's soul.

Above all, we ought to examine the doctrine which we think women who study philosophy ought to follow; we ought to see if the study which presents modesty as the greatest good can make them presumptuous, if the study which is a guide to the greatest self-restraint accustoms them to live heedlessly, if what sets forth intemperance as the greatest evil does not teach self-control, if what represents the management of a household as a virtue does not impel them to manage well their homes.

Finally, the teachings of philosophy exhort the woman to be content with her lot and to work with her own hands.

I once listened to an academic administrator explain that we were all being too naïve about the purpose of higher education. We were grooming future lawyers, not to work for justice, but to “legitimize power.” The next generation of bankers wasn’t going to protect their depositors’ savings, but would rather “increase corporate profitability.” Some of our students would become doctors, and their critical role was not going to be the healing of the sick, but the “maximizing of social efficiency.”

I couldn’t resist impishly asking him later what role philosophers were supposed to play in this new world order. Would attending our professional conferences “facilitate the marketability of value systems?”

I should not have been surprised, but he took my question quite seriously. “That’s an excellent point, because we can’t underestimate the benefit that kind of exposure has for promoting the university’s brand.”

My apologies for seeming so naïve, but we don’t need lawyers, bankers, or doctors who are merely buying and selling a product. If they are not defending our rights, or preserving the fruits of our labors, or curing our diseases, they aren’t doing their jobs.

The same is true of philosophers. If they aren’t inspiring us to fall in love with the truth, and moving us to live with a sense of right and wrong, then we might be better off without them.

Long before we consider the roles of men and women, or the functions of different professions, or who should be richer and who should be poorer, we should surely ask a much more important question, a question that only philosophy can properly address. What is it that will make any life worth living? What steps can be taken by anyone to achieve this end?

A Stoic, like Musonius, offers an answer that looks to human nature itself. Look first to the content of character, to the merit of understanding and love, to the virtue in thoughts and deeds. All the rest can only fall into place after that.

Is it helping me to love wisdom, to be inspired with courage, to have mastery over my desires, to treat my neighbor with justice? If the answer is yes, I should by all means proceed. If the answer is no, I need to follow a different path.

Should I worry about all the fame and fortune the world keeps talking about? What about the pleasure, the profit, the power? In and of themselves they are nothing for me, and I can take them or leave them, finding value only in whether or not they benefit the health of my soul.

“Well, an attitude like that won’t make you a partner, or get you a job on Wall Street, or win you that research grant!” Perhaps it won’t, but that isn’t what matters, is it? Set the priorities right, whatever others choose to think. Happiness doesn’t come from those things.

Turning back now to the original question, is it right for women to study philosophy? More fundamentally, is it right for any of us at all, men or women, young or old, rich or poor, to study philosophy? Yes, if it teaches us human decency.

Will it encourage us to modesty, self-control, and temperance? Will it strengthen us in fairness, friendship, and compassion? Will it commit us to gladly take responsibility for what is ours? Will it allow us to be at peace with the world as it comes to us, and to be content with our own work?

If philosophy can do that, it will form the best of women, and the best of men. 

Written in 4/1999

IMAGE: Jean-Francois Millet, The Gleaners (1857)

Wisdom from the Bhagavad Gita 5

29. Some look upon the Self as marvelous. Others speak of It as wonderful. Others again hear of It as a wonder. And still others, though hearing, do not understand It at all.

30. This, the Indweller in the bodies of all, is ever indestructible, O descendant of Bharata. Wherefore you ought not to mourn for any creature.

31. Looking at your own Dharma, also, you ought not to waver, for there is nothing higher for a Kshatriya than a righteous war.

32. Fortunate certainly are the Kshatriyas, O son of Prithâ, who are called to fight in such a battle, that comes unsought as an open gate to heaven.

33. But if you refuse to engage in this righteous warfare, then, forfeiting your own Dharma and honor, you shalt incur sin.

34. The world also will ever hold you in reprobation. To the honored, disrepute is surely worse than death. 

35. The great chariot-warriors will believe that you have withdrawn from the battle through fear. And you will be lightly esteemed by them who have thought much of you.

36. Your enemies also, cavilling at your great prowess, will say of you things that are not to be uttered. What could be more intolerable than this?
  
37. Dying you gain heaven; conquering you enjoy the earth. Therefore, O son of Kunti, arise, resolved to fight.

38. Having made pain and pleasure, gain and loss, conquest and defeat, the same, engage then in battle. So shall you incur no sin. 

—Bhagavad Gita, 2:29-38

Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 4.11

“Remember that corollary which I emphasized when speaking to you a little while ago, and reason thus therefrom:

“While happiness is the absolute good, it is plain that all good men become good by virtue of the very fact that they are good. But we agreed that happy men are as gods. Therefore this is the reward of the good, which no time can wear out, no power can lessen, no wickedness can darken; they become divine.

“In this case, then, no wise man can doubt of the inevitable punishment of the wicked as well. For good and evil are so set, differing from each other just as reward and punishment are in opposition to each other. Hence the rewards, which we see fall to the good, must correspond precisely to the punishments of the evil on the other side.

“As, therefore, honesty is itself the reward of the honest, so wickedness is itself the punishment of the wicked. Now whosoever suffers punishment, doubts not that he is suffering an evil. If, then, they are ready so to judge of themselves, can they think that they do not receive punishment, considering that they are not only affected but thoroughly permeated by wickedness, the worst of all evils?”

—from Book 4, Prose 3

Distracted by the expectation of further reward, I will look to everything except myself in order to find happiness for myself. I am caught up in a sort of moral version of the red herring fallacy, drawing attention to the good of something over there when I should rather be concerned with the good of this right here. 

“Did my situation bring me greater wealth, or power, or fame, or gratification?” This is a case of apples and oranges, because these things have nothing directly to do with my happiness. However much I may prefer such conditions, they will not make me better or worse.

“Have I done right? Was I thoughtful, sincere, and kind?” Now I am back on topic. I am recognizing the simple fact that how well I live is itself the only standard of how complete, and therefore how contented and fulfilling, my life can be.

Lady Philosophy again tells us that because the good man is also the happy man, the good man is also the divine man. I may express this with all the poetic images, or profound theology, or inspiring mysticism that I like, but it really just boils down to recognizing that the more anything acts according to its own nature, the more perfect it becomes, and the more perfect it becomes, the more it becomes like God, the measure of all perfection.

The apple tree, or the orange tree, or a creature like me, will all be satisfied when they are realizing themselves, consciously or unconsciously, in their own distinct ways. They can be at peace when their proper work is being done. Nothing else is required of them.

Conversely, the apple tree, or the orange tree, or a creature like me, will all be dissatisfied when they fail to realize themselves, consciously or unconsciously, in their own distinct ways. They can only strive to become more while there is work left to do. Something else is still required of them.

And so it is that the virtuous and the vicious stand in contrast to one another. In one there is presence, and in the other there is absence. This tree has borne fruit, and that tree is still barren. Here is achievement, and there is failure. This is the difference between happiness and misery.

Though I may not always understand how or why, I do know when I am in distress. The unease tells me that something isn’t right, that something must be done to make it better, that a need must be fulfilled. If I look honestly within myself, I will see that my emptiness can only come from failing to attend to my own character. All rewards and punishments of life hang in the balance here. 

Written in 11/2015 

Wisdom from the Early Stoics, Zeno of Citium 5

Zeno himself was sour and of a frowning countenance. He was very niggardly too, clinging to meanness unworthy of a Greek, on the plea of economy.

If he pitched into anyone he would do it concisely, and not effusively, keeping him rather at arm's length. I mean, for example, his remark upon the fop showing himself off. When he was slowly picking his way across a watercourse, "With good reason," said Zeno, "he looks askance at the mud, for he can't see his face in it." 

When a certain Cynic declared he had no oil in his flask and begged some of him, Zeno refused to give him any. However, as the man went away, Zeno bade him consider which of the two was the more impudent. 

Being enamored of Chremonides, as he and Cleanthes were sitting beside the youth, he got up, and upon Cleanthes expressing surprise, "Good physicians tell us," said he, "that the best cure for inflammation is repose." 

When of two reclining next to each other over the wine, the one who was neighbor to Zeno kicked the guest below him, Zeno himself nudged the man with his knee, and upon the man turning round, inquired, "How do you think your neighbor liked what you did to him?"

To a lover of boys he remarked, "Just as schoolmasters lose their common-sense by spending all their time with boys, so it is with people like you." 

He used to say that the very exact expressions used by those who avoided solecisms were like the coins struck by Alexander: they were beautiful in appearance and well-rounded like the coins, but none the better on that account. 

Words of the opposite kind he would compare to the Attic tetradrachms, which, though struck carelessly and inartistically, nevertheless outweighed the ornate phrases. 

When his pupil Ariston discoursed at length in an uninspired manner, sometimes in a headstrong and over-confident way, "Your father," said he, "must have been drunk when he begat you." Hence he would call him a chatterbox, being himself concise in speech. 

—Diogenes Laërtius, 7.16-18

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 2.6

There are other special forms of this disease without number, but it has but one effect, that of making people dissatisfied with themselves. This arises from a distemperature of mind and from desires that one is afraid to express or unable to fulfill, when men either dare not attempt as much as they wish to do, or fail in their efforts and depend entirely upon hope.

Such people are always fickle and changeable, which is a necessary consequence of living in a state of suspense. They take any way to arrive at their ends, and teach and force themselves to use both dishonorable and difficult means to do so, so that when their toil has been in vain they are made wretched by the disgrace of failure, and do not regret having longed for what was wrong, but having longed for it in vain.

They then begin to feel sorry for what they have done, and afraid to begin again, and their mind falls by degrees into a state of endless vacillation, because they can neither command nor obey their passions, of hesitation, because their life cannot properly develop itself, and of decay, as the mind becomes stupefied by disappointments.

I have heard all sorts of philosophers, psychologists, priests, mystics, politicians, self-help gurus, and talk-show hosts telling us what it is that makes us so uneasy in this life. Still, I return to this brief account, time and time again, because it cuts through all the clutter, and it describes so accurately the anxiety that can eat away at us all.

I imagine there isn’t a single person on the face of this earth who has not, at some time and in some way, faced this sort of disappointment and restlessness. It may be more or less severe, and we may be better or worse at hiding it, but it always lurks under the surface. We become unhappy with ourselves, and unhappy with the world, by not quite knowing what we should want, or how to go about getting it.

We question ourselves, are dragged down by our doubts, and feel as if our efforts always fall short. What else could be left, if we have no idea where to turn? Is there some magic elixir, to be found just around the corner, which will take away all the uncertainty?

For lack of better term, I call it being fidgety inside. I grew up in a house that had a yard full of squirrels, regularly causing mischief by digging their little holes in my mother’s plantings. They were fascinating to watch, however, because they seemed the most nervous of creatures. They would dart about from one place to another, with no discernible pattern, and were spooked by the slightest motion or sound. They charged in one direction, stopped for a moment to look shocked and surprised, and then ran back the way they came. If the wind blew a certain way, their tails would twitch, and they started barking.

Have you felt that way about your own life on any given day, more often than you are willing to admit? Yes, I thought so.

When I find myself discouraged about my very purpose for living, I will behave very much like one of those squirrels. I will go this way and then that way, become distracted by bumps and shadows, and try absolutely anything to just make it through the day. Clueless about what will get the job done, I will follow any path at all, only to be frustrated when it leads me nowhere.

I choose all the wrong means to get me to where I think I need to go, and then I am disappointed when they don’t work out. I don’t feel bad, however, because I decided on the wrong things to begin with, but only because I didn’t get them the way I wanted them.

“Wait, lying, and stealing, and backbiting, and wallowing in indulgence haven’t made me happy? Maybe if I tried them in a different order?” Good grief!

Not even being sure of who I am, I surrender myself to my flighty desires and changing circumstances, afraid to admit this to myself, and afraid someone else might notice that I have no idea what I’m doing. A man wasn’t made to run a rat race, or be trapped on a hamster wheel, or live like a fidgety squirrel. 

Written in 5/2011 

Hans Holbein, The Dance of Death 1: The Creation

Sayings of Ramakrishna 18

As many have merely heard of snow but not seen it, so many are the religious preachers who have read only in books about the attributes of God, but have not realized them in their lives. 

And as many may have seen but not tasted it, so many are the religious teachers who have got only a glimpse of Divine Glory, but have not understood its real essence. 

He who has tasted the snow can say what it is like. He who has enjoyed the society of God in different aspects, now as a servant, now as a friend, now as a lover, or as being absorbed in Him, he alone can tell what are the attributes of God.

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 3.7

Would not such a woman be a great help to the man who married her, an ornament to her relatives, and a good example for all who know her?

Yes, but I assure you, some will say, that women who associate with philosophers are bound to be arrogant for the most part and presumptuous, in that abandoning their own households and turning to the company of men they practice speeches, talk like sophists, and analyze syllogisms, when they ought to be sitting at home spinning.

I should not expect the women who study philosophy to shirk their appointed tasks for mere talk any more than men, but I maintain that their discussions should be conducted for the sake of their practical application.

Couldn’t we argue that women should avoid philosophy, not because they are somehow unworthy of a great privilege, but because philosophy will only encourage them to become insufferable snobs?

In other words, we should look at how much time men already waste with their posing and posturing about obscure ideas, and we should hesitate to have women follow suit. Sitting at home and spinning at least produces something useful, while intellectual musings have no practical application at all.

Well, the issue will then no longer be about men and women, but about the worth of philosophy itself. If by philosophy we mean simply spouting empty words in order to hear ourselves speak, then yes, women should surely avoid it, and so should men.

The world does not need more talking heads and hot air; the world does need more people who actually get things done.

That is not, however, the sort of philosophy Musonius holds dear. We have sadly come to think of philosophy only through the ways we have abused it, retaining the word but not the task.  Yes, if theory is separated from practice, if ideas are divorced from actions, and if thinking is removed from living, then we are indeed wasting our time.

The Stoic, however, like any genuine philosopher, will insist that the exercise of the mind must always be in service to the excellence of our character.

Don’t “do” philosophy because you like to ponder grand abstractions, or to impress your friends with how clever you are, or to wallow in leisure instead of committing to labor; we already have plenty of professional academics to do that, the sophists of our modern age.

Rather, “live” philosophy so you can learn to live well, to practice virtue in all of your affairs, to inform every one of your thoughts, words, and deeds with meaning and purpose. Know the true from the false, the right from the wrong, in order to be happy, and to help others be happy. Contemplate justice for the sake of treating your neighbor with justice.

Philosophy, in this proper sense, is not one trade among many, but the universal human calling that stands behind all trades. All human beings require it, because creatures endowed with reason and choice can only do what is good if they first understand what is good. The question is not whether we will think about our actions, but rather whether we will think about them clearly. We will make countless judgments in our lives about what we believe to be right, so it will only benefit us if we actually know what is right.

Some people, men and women alike, will be powerful rulers, and others will wash the dishes. Some will heal the sick, and others will fight in wars. Some will teach the young, and others will bury the dead. It matters far less what our particular place in this world may be, and far more if we fulfill our particular calling with integrity, with decency, and with kindness.

Pursue philosophy not merely by reading fancy books, but by engaging in life. What will it help us if we know in which texts Aristotle discusses the nature of friendship, if we do not learn to love our friends? By all means, let us study as much as we like, and let us have engaging conversations about the difference between virtue and vice; more importantly, however, let us actually practice virtue instead of vice. 

Written in 4/1999

Sayings of Socrates 27

Someone will say: "Yes, Socrates, but cannot you hold your tongue, and then you may go into a foreign city, and no one will interfere with you?"

Now I have great difficulty in making you understand my answer to this. 

For if I tell you that this would be a disobedience to a divine command, and therefore that I cannot hold my tongue, you will not believe that I am serious.

And if I say that the greatest good of a man is daily to converse about virtue, and all that concerning which you hear me examining myself and others, and that the life that is unexamined is not worth living—that you are still less likely to believe.

—Plato, Apology 37e–38a 

ὁ δὲ ἀνεξέταστος βίος οὐ βιωτὸς ἀνθρώπῳ

My Old Friend, Ricky Skaggs

No, I never met the man, but that's on my bucket list. I call him a friend because of all that he's done for me. Whenever life seems so dark, so cynical, so jaded, his music has found a way to help me out of my rut. He always ended up being there.

Most younger country fans these days don't really remember him, and I suspect this is because he performed songs that don't match the negativity and harshness of the time. Yet he was my first introduction to real country music, by means of my interest in Irish folk and bluegrass.

In college, I fell in love with a girl who had her sights set on fame and worldly success. If I played this song, she would storm out of the room, yelling back at me that I was a backwards bum, a fellow caught in a hopelessly romantic view of the world.

"Woman You Won't Break Mine"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oq7dP3mtc4I

Of course she did break my heart, or more properly, I broke my own.

Well what do you do when you have a broken heart? You find a good country song to go along with it. Dogs and trucks are optional.

"Heartbreak Hurricane"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z8TMDcatJ3s

When you've gone through all of the lies, and all of the cheating, and all of the pain, can you ever love or trust someone else? Yes, but find someone kind, someone honest, someone who has the same sense of magic about life as you do.

"He Was Onto Somethin' (So He Made You)"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CDpRXdjaYSI

It doesn't hurt if she also comes from San Antonio.

"San Antonio Rose"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-zlP3P0bL0

As you find that you love her, you also learn that you love her because of who she is, because of her character. Nothing is more attractive than a beautiful soul.

Driving through the countryside in our first car, we would play this song over and over. It was because we had the most important thing in common, a love of God. Everything else falls into place after that.

"Soldier of the Cross"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SiOTkDxeVnA

Yes, laugh at us all you like. Ricky Skaggs and I will be quite content with your rejection.

Written in 12/2000

Vanitas 1

Harmen Steenwijck, Vanitas (c. 1640)

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 2.5

The same thing applies both to those who suffer from fickleness and continual changes of purpose, who always are fondest of what they have given up, and those who merely yawn and dawdle.

Add to these those who, like bad sleepers, turn from side to side, and settle themselves first in one manner and then in another, until at last they find rest through sheer weariness. In forming the habits of their lives they often end by adopting some to which they are not kept by any dislike of change, but in the practice of which old age, which is slow to alter, has caught them living.

Add also those who are by no means fickle, yet who must thank their dullness, not their consistency for being so, and who go on living not in the way they wish, but in the way they have begun to live.

I should not fret over the fact that I find it difficult to be good, and that I struggle to be happy. If I am facing obstacles, it can mean that I am doing more than merely going through the motions for the sake of appearances, and it can mean that I am still guided by a sense of purpose. The hardship at least reflects an effort and a commitment. Better to stay in the fight than to yield.

I have often wondered how people can so easily brush off their circumstances. For some, it may well show how they have truly mastered themselves, and these are the folks I need to learn from. Yet for many others, it reveals how quickly they change their tunes. Once they confront something inconvenient or uncomfortable, they simply drop their former interests, and move on to something completely new.

“I don’t like this anymore. Look! There is another situation to hold my attention. I am tired of worrying about this. Look! Let me follow a different path.”

The house is cluttered and dirty, and the ashtrays are all full. Time to buy a new house.

I was always deeply confused as to why I was given promises of unconditional love at one moment, and then treated like a complete stranger the next. Was I so boring and tedious that I was now disposable? It never occurred to me that there was nothing I could have done to win the affections of those who had decided to no longer care.

Flighty people never stay with one thing for too long, especially if it requires real work. Their seeming ease in life is not ease at all, but a running away from any genuine dedication.

Then there are also those who just accept the last thing to come their way, exhausted by the effort of trying anymore, caught in the humdrum of mediocre habits. They lie wherever they fall.

Finally, there are also those who never reflect to begin with, and so are pushed and pulled by anything that crosses their paths. They are hardly content, but resigned to let everything be what it will be, while never even thinking about what they could be.

Yes, there were times when I was far too stubborn, or was pigheadedly unwilling to settle for what I perceived as second best, or kicked and screamed when the world rolled over me. Still, at least there was some life left in me, and I was not content to surrender my need to find some peace of mind. 

Written in 5/2011

Tao Te Ching 52

The Tao which originated all under the sky is to be considered as the mother of them all.

When the mother is found, we know what her children should be. When one knows that he is his mother's child, and proceeds to guard the qualities of the mother that belong to him, to the end of his life he will be free from all peril.

Let him keep his mouth closed, and shut up the portals of his nostrils, and all his life he will be exempt from laborious exertion. 

Let him keep his mouth open, and spend his breath in the promotion of his affairs, and all his life there will be no safety for him.

The perception of what is small is the secret of clear-sightedness; the guarding of what is soft and tender is the secret of strength.

Who uses well his light,
Reverting to its source so bright,
Will from his body ward all blight,
And hides the unchanging from men's sight.

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 3.6

Now as for courage, certainly it is to be expected that the educated woman will be more courageous than the uneducated, and one who has studied philosophy than one who has not; and she will not therefore submit to anything shameful because of fear of death or unwillingness to face hardship, and she will not be intimidated by anyone because he is of noble birth, or powerful, or wealthy, no, not even if he be the tyrant of her city.

For in fact she has schooled herself to be high-minded and to think of death not as an evil and life not as a good, and likewise not to shun hardship and never for a moment to seek ease and indolence.

So it is that such a woman is likely to be energetic, strong to endure pain, prepared to nourish her children at her own breast, and to serve her husband with her own hands, and willing to do things which some would consider no better than slaves' work.

I have sometimes heard people describe courage as a distinctly masculine virtue, though I wonder if these people understand either the true nature of courage, or the true nature of masculinity.

In such a case, both bravery and manhood are reduced merely to a sense of being stronger, tougher, or more aggressive than someone else. Certain sorts of men, of course, like to strut about, and show off, and intimidate others, and they insist that this is brave. To be fair, I see certain sorts of women behave this way as well. Is it still a virtue, however, if an animal could do it just as well as a man or a woman?

We are twice removed from the truth if we assume that courage is a matter of any sort of brutality, by way of any sort of confusion about manliness. Once again, consider the humanity first, and what is shared in common by all of humanity.

For the Ancients, courage was the commitment to doing what was right and good, in the face of danger, and most specifically in the face of death. It was not just the exercise of powerful emotion, of aggression in the face of fear, but the judgment of an informed conscience, where hardship was accepted as a means to character. The strength that was to be found in fortitude came from the mind, not merely from the gut.

Scowl and growl all you want, flex your muscles, and assume an imposing stance, and you are still no closer to courage. Look to the guidance of your moral compass, and get your priorities in order about what is greater and lesser in this life, and you will now find yourself on the path to being brave.

All people need this virtue to live well, both men and women, and it is only possible through first forming an understanding of what is good. It will seem ridiculous to the bully to say that true courage comes from the power of philosophy instead of the power of his fists, but this is only because he chooses not to reflect on who he is, and why he is here.

Musonius sees quite clearly how the brave woman will live out her life just as fully as the brave man. She would rather die before she surrenders to vice. She will bear pain in order to develop her moral worth. She will not be frightened or impressed by money and influence, because she knows that these are not the standards by which she should judge herself. She will bear whatever is necessary, even what other people may think is far beneath them, in order to show a respect for human dignity.

I have known many people who liked to draw attention to how brave they were, and how their boldness in taking risks was bringing them success in life. Yet I couldn’t help but ask, “What are you actually putting on the line? What is it going to bring you?”

“I’m standing up for myself, and taking what I want from people, so I can live my life the way I choose to live it! I’ll never get that by being weak!”

“You will fight to gain power over others, and insist on satisfying your desires?”

“Sure. That’s what life’s all about.”

Whenever I hear words like that, I am reminded why men and women so desperately need philosophy. It’s the only way we won’t confuse courage with conquest, or virtue with gratification. It is what helps us to see that anything is worth sacrificing for character, but character is never worth sacrificing for anything. That is the conviction of courage. 

Written in 4/1999

The Cardinal and Theological Virtues

Abraham Bosse, The Cardinal Virtues (Prudence, Fortitude, Temperance, Justice) and The Theological Virtues (Faith, Hope, Charity) (1636)

The Wisdom of Solomon 1:1-6

[1] Love righteousness, you rulers of the earth,
think of the Lord with uprightness,
and seek him with sincerity of heart;
[2] because he is found by those who do not put him to the test,
and manifests himself to those who do not distrust him.
[3] For perverse thoughts separate men from God,
and when his power is tested, it convicts the foolish;
[4] because wisdom will not enter a deceitful soul,
nor dwell in a body enslaved to sin.
[5] For a holy and disciplined spirit will flee from deceit,
and will rise and depart from foolish thoughts,
and will be ashamed at the approach of unrighteousness.
[6] For wisdom is a kindly spirit and
will not free a blasphemer from the guilt of his words;
because God is witness of his inmost feelings,
and a true observer of his heart, and a hearer of his tongue. 

IMAGE: Andreas Brugger, Solomon at His Throne (1777)