Peter Paul Rubens, Cain Slaying His Brother Abel (c. 1609)
William Blake, The Body of Abel Found by Adam and Eve (c. 1826)
Benedetto Luti, Cain Fleeing from the Sight of God after the Death of Abel (1692)
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_-_Cain_Fleeing_from_the_Sight_of_God_after_the_Death_of_Abel_-_108850_-_National_Trust.jpg)
The Death of Marcus Aurelius
Wednesday, September 17, 2025
Tuesday, September 16, 2025
James Vila Blake, Sonnets from Marcus Aurelius 23
Ὁ ἀδικῶν ἀσεβεῖ: τῆς γὰρ τῶν ὅλων φύσεως κατεσκευακυίας τὰ λογικὰ ζῷα ἕνεκεν ἀλλήλων, ὥστε ὠφελεῖν μὲν ἄλληλα κατ̓ ἀξίαν βλάπτειν δὲ μηδαμῶς, ὁ τὸ βούλημα ταύτης παραβαίνων ἀσεβεῖ δηλονότι εἰς τὴν πρεσβυτάτην τῶν θεῶν.
The unjust man is an impious man, and sins against the gods. For as the Nature of the Universe has constituted reasoning creatures for the sake of one another, that they may be useful and do good to each other in a due manner, but by no means ever to harm any one, so whoever goes aside from this purpose and will of Nature, plainly is impious, and sins against the eldest of all deities.
—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 9.1
23.
Treasonable against the King of Kings,
Fluent from whom the ancient heavens proceed,
And marvelous multiplicity of things.
Compacted all in oneness forth they go,
And in their way a lovely order sings—
Peasants, kings, commoners, friend and foe,
And all assembled to the King of Kings!
Nature is music’s vast conventicle,
Wherein each life plays precious melodies
That congregate in parts majestical,
And justice is the solemn harmonies.
Justice is many in One; uncivil to be
Profaneth the most ancient Deity.
IMAGE: Titian, Cain and Abel (c. 1544)
Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 5.25
M. A mind employed on such subjects, and which night and day contemplates them, contains in itself that precept of the Delphic God, so as to “know itself,” and to perceive its connection with the Divine Reason, from whence it is filled with an insatiable joy.
For reflections on the power and nature of the Gods raise in us a desire of imitating their eternity. Nor does the mind, that sees the necessary dependences and connections that one cause has with another, think it possible that it should be itself confined to the shortness of this life.
Those causes, though they proceed from eternity to eternity, are governed by reason and understanding. And he who beholds them and examines them, or rather he whose view takes in all the parts and boundaries of things, with what tranquility of mind does he look on all human affairs, and on all that is nearer him!
Hence proceeds the knowledge of virtue; hence arise the kinds and species of virtues; hence are discovered those things which nature regards as the bounds and extremities of good and evil; by this it is discovered to what all duties ought to be referred, and which is the most eligible manner of life.
And when these and similar points have been investigated, the principal consequence which is deduced from them, and that which is our main object in this discussion, is the establishment of the point, that virtue is of itself sufficient to a happy life.
The third qualification of our wise man is the next to be considered, which goes through and spreads itself over every part of wisdom; it is that whereby we define each particular thing, distinguish the genus from its species, connect consequences, draw just conclusions, and distinguish truth from falsehood, which is the very art and science of disputing; which is not only of the greatest use in the examination of what passes in the world, but is likewise the most rational entertainment, and that which is most becoming to true wisdom. Such are its effects in retirement.
Now, let our wise man be considered as protecting the republic; what can be more excellent than such a character? By his prudence he will discover the true interests of his fellow citizens; by his justice he will be prevented from applying what belongs to the public to his own use; and, in short, he will be ever governed by all the virtues, which are many and various.
To these let us add the advantage of his friendships; in which the learned reckon not only a natural harmony and agreement of sentiments throughout the conduct of life, but the utmost pleasure and satisfaction in conversing and passing our time constantly with one another.
What can be wanting to such a life as this to make it more happy than it is? Fortune herself must yield to a life stored with such joys. Now, if it be a happiness to rejoice in such goods of the mind, that is to say, in such virtues, and if all wise men enjoy thoroughly these pleasures, it must necessarily be granted that all such are happy.
For reflections on the power and nature of the Gods raise in us a desire of imitating their eternity. Nor does the mind, that sees the necessary dependences and connections that one cause has with another, think it possible that it should be itself confined to the shortness of this life.
Those causes, though they proceed from eternity to eternity, are governed by reason and understanding. And he who beholds them and examines them, or rather he whose view takes in all the parts and boundaries of things, with what tranquility of mind does he look on all human affairs, and on all that is nearer him!
Hence proceeds the knowledge of virtue; hence arise the kinds and species of virtues; hence are discovered those things which nature regards as the bounds and extremities of good and evil; by this it is discovered to what all duties ought to be referred, and which is the most eligible manner of life.
And when these and similar points have been investigated, the principal consequence which is deduced from them, and that which is our main object in this discussion, is the establishment of the point, that virtue is of itself sufficient to a happy life.
The third qualification of our wise man is the next to be considered, which goes through and spreads itself over every part of wisdom; it is that whereby we define each particular thing, distinguish the genus from its species, connect consequences, draw just conclusions, and distinguish truth from falsehood, which is the very art and science of disputing; which is not only of the greatest use in the examination of what passes in the world, but is likewise the most rational entertainment, and that which is most becoming to true wisdom. Such are its effects in retirement.
Now, let our wise man be considered as protecting the republic; what can be more excellent than such a character? By his prudence he will discover the true interests of his fellow citizens; by his justice he will be prevented from applying what belongs to the public to his own use; and, in short, he will be ever governed by all the virtues, which are many and various.
To these let us add the advantage of his friendships; in which the learned reckon not only a natural harmony and agreement of sentiments throughout the conduct of life, but the utmost pleasure and satisfaction in conversing and passing our time constantly with one another.
What can be wanting to such a life as this to make it more happy than it is? Fortune herself must yield to a life stored with such joys. Now, if it be a happiness to rejoice in such goods of the mind, that is to say, in such virtues, and if all wise men enjoy thoroughly these pleasures, it must necessarily be granted that all such are happy.
—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 5.25
When a thing is most fully itself, when it perfects its own nature, it can now be said to be complete. You will please forgive the Peripatetic in me, when I speak of it as a being actualizing its potency. If you prefer, however, I can refer back to the old Army recruitment jingle from my youth: “Be all that you can be!”
When a task is accomplished, when the goal is achieved, it can now be said to be realized. You will please forgive the Peripatetic in me, when I speak of it as the means in service to the end. If you prefer, however, I can refer back to one of my Pipa’s favorite expressions: “Ah! The satisfaction of a job well done!”
And what is the purpose of our human nature? It is more than the function of a lifeless machine, or the grueling labor at some tedious chore, since we are creatures gifted with the power of reason and choice, such that we are granted the opportunity to freely participate in the harmony of the whole. We are therefore not limited to the role of a “what”, as we receive the honor of becoming a “who”.
Through the depth of understanding, the mind can contain within its own nature the nature of the wide world, and from the act of judgment, the will possesses the liberty to chart its own unique course. Instead of merely being moved, a man now determines his inner motions, and instead of being a piece of fate, a man is now a cooperator with a greater destiny. Too many of us treat consciousness as if it were a curse, when it provides us with the blessing of self-mastery through self-awareness.
And so it is that human happiness has a divine quality to it, for the very act of understanding is the embrace of meaning and purpose, by which arises the peace of being in communion with God. I do not mean the spouting of pious platitudes, or the performance of vainglorious rituals, but rather the cultivation of a mind that knows the truth and a heart that loves the good. What more can a fellow ask for than reflecting the Absolute in everything he thinks, he says, and he does?
While I will not idly speculate on what might become of me after I die, I remain certain that the vocation to greater awareness is a fitting imitation of the Divine source, and in this sense, at least, I will partake of eternity. The effect is the expression of a cause, the act is directed toward an end, and the order is a consequence of design. Finding any satisfaction in this life demands a perception of the context to this life, the placing of my own nature within the totality of Nature.
I hardly need to be a theologian to be reverent, or a metaphysician to be reasonable. Each and every event in my daily life is asking me to grasp my contribution to the bigger picture, and this is nothing less than the calling to virtue. Thus, the measure of a man is revealed, little by little, as a duty to God, of the part to the whole, of the contingent to the necessary. I think it no accident that I aways fail as a man when I close my eyes to the Transcendent.
If the mind is in order, every other aspect of life will be in order. The danger is in twisting the principles to fit the preferences, when the preferences should be informed by the principles. Experience starts with the proximate, and yet the challenge is to work backwards to the ultimate. A formal training in logic can help, but the honest exercise of common sense is enough: define your terms clearly, make your judgements truly, and form your arguments soundly. The rest is superfluous.
Only when reason has discovered the dignity of the virtues can I learn to become a good man, and only as I commit to becoming a good man am I on my way to living with happiness. I cannot claim to honor my country or to love my friends until I have first gotten my own house in order. No circumstance can shake such a solid foundation.
When a thing is most fully itself, when it perfects its own nature, it can now be said to be complete. You will please forgive the Peripatetic in me, when I speak of it as a being actualizing its potency. If you prefer, however, I can refer back to the old Army recruitment jingle from my youth: “Be all that you can be!”
When a task is accomplished, when the goal is achieved, it can now be said to be realized. You will please forgive the Peripatetic in me, when I speak of it as the means in service to the end. If you prefer, however, I can refer back to one of my Pipa’s favorite expressions: “Ah! The satisfaction of a job well done!”
And what is the purpose of our human nature? It is more than the function of a lifeless machine, or the grueling labor at some tedious chore, since we are creatures gifted with the power of reason and choice, such that we are granted the opportunity to freely participate in the harmony of the whole. We are therefore not limited to the role of a “what”, as we receive the honor of becoming a “who”.
Through the depth of understanding, the mind can contain within its own nature the nature of the wide world, and from the act of judgment, the will possesses the liberty to chart its own unique course. Instead of merely being moved, a man now determines his inner motions, and instead of being a piece of fate, a man is now a cooperator with a greater destiny. Too many of us treat consciousness as if it were a curse, when it provides us with the blessing of self-mastery through self-awareness.
And so it is that human happiness has a divine quality to it, for the very act of understanding is the embrace of meaning and purpose, by which arises the peace of being in communion with God. I do not mean the spouting of pious platitudes, or the performance of vainglorious rituals, but rather the cultivation of a mind that knows the truth and a heart that loves the good. What more can a fellow ask for than reflecting the Absolute in everything he thinks, he says, and he does?
While I will not idly speculate on what might become of me after I die, I remain certain that the vocation to greater awareness is a fitting imitation of the Divine source, and in this sense, at least, I will partake of eternity. The effect is the expression of a cause, the act is directed toward an end, and the order is a consequence of design. Finding any satisfaction in this life demands a perception of the context to this life, the placing of my own nature within the totality of Nature.
I hardly need to be a theologian to be reverent, or a metaphysician to be reasonable. Each and every event in my daily life is asking me to grasp my contribution to the bigger picture, and this is nothing less than the calling to virtue. Thus, the measure of a man is revealed, little by little, as a duty to God, of the part to the whole, of the contingent to the necessary. I think it no accident that I aways fail as a man when I close my eyes to the Transcendent.
If the mind is in order, every other aspect of life will be in order. The danger is in twisting the principles to fit the preferences, when the preferences should be informed by the principles. Experience starts with the proximate, and yet the challenge is to work backwards to the ultimate. A formal training in logic can help, but the honest exercise of common sense is enough: define your terms clearly, make your judgements truly, and form your arguments soundly. The rest is superfluous.
Only when reason has discovered the dignity of the virtues can I learn to become a good man, and only as I commit to becoming a good man am I on my way to living with happiness. I cannot claim to honor my country or to love my friends until I have first gotten my own house in order. No circumstance can shake such a solid foundation.
—Reflection written in 2/1999
IMAGE: Andrea Sacchi, Allegory of Divine Wisdom (1633)
Monday, September 15, 2025
When I Have Fears
"When I Have Fears"
John Keats (1795-1821)
When I have fears that I may cease to be
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charact'ry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love!—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think,
Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.
Before my pen has glean'd my teeming brain,
Before high-piled books, in charact'ry,
Hold like rich garners the full-ripen'd grain;
When I behold, upon the night's starr'd face,
Huge cloudy symbols of a high romance,
And think that I may never live to trace
Their shadows, with the magic hand of chance;
And when I feel, fair creature of an hour!
That I shall never look upon thee more,
Never have relish in the faery power
Of unreflecting love!—then on the shore
Of the wide world I stand alone, and think,
Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink.
IMAGE: John MacWhirter, Ossian's Grave (c. 1880)
_-_Ossian's_Grave_-_1900-60_-_Salford_Museum_and_Art_Gallery.jpg)
Sunday, September 14, 2025
Plutarch, The Life of Cato the Younger 24
Cato tried to fix suspicion upon the matter and alleged that it had something to do with the conspiracy, and bade him read the writing aloud. Then Caesar handed the note to Cato, who stood near him.
But when Cato had read the note, which was an unchaste letter from his sister Servilia to Caesar, with whom she was passionately and guiltily in love, he threw it to Caesar, saying, "Take it, you sot," and then resumed his speech.
But as regards the women of his household, Cato appears to have been wholly unfortunate. For this sister was in ill repute for her relations with Caesar; and the conduct of the other Servilia, also a sister of Cato, was still more unseemly. She was the wife of Lucullus, a man of the highest repute in Rome, and had borne him a child, and yet she was banished from his house for unchastity.
And what was most disgraceful of all, even Cato's wife Atilia was not free from such transgressions, but although he had two children by her, he was forced to put her away because of her unseemly behavior.
Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 5.24
M. But that what I propose to demonstrate to you may not rest on mere words only, I must set before you the picture of something, as it were, living and moving in the world, that may dispose us more for the improvement of the understanding and real knowledge.
Let us, then, pitch upon some man perfectly acquainted with the most excellent arts; let us present him for awhile to our own thoughts, and figure him to our own imaginations.
In the first place, he must necessarily be of an extraordinary capacity; for virtue is not easily connected with dull minds.
Secondly, he must have a great desire of discovering truth, from whence will arise that threefold production of the mind; one of which depends on knowing things, and explaining nature; the other, in defining what we ought to desire and what to avoid; the third, in judging of consequences and impossibilities, in which consists both subtlety in disputing and also clearness of judgment.
Now, with what pleasure must the mind of a wise man be affected which continually dwells in the midst of such cares and occupations as these, when he views the revolutions and motions of the whole world, and sees those innumerable stars in the heavens, which, though fixed in their places, have yet one motion in common with the whole universe, and observes the seven other stars, some higher, some lower, each maintaining their own course, while their motions, though wandering, have certain defined and appointed spaces to run through! The sight of which doubtless urged and encouraged those ancient philosophers to exercise their investigating spirit on many other things.
Hence arose an inquiry after the beginnings, and, as it were, seeds from which all things were produced and composed; what was the origin of every kind of thing, whether animate or inanimate, articulately speaking or mute; what occasioned their beginning and end, and by what alteration and change one thing was converted into another; whence the earth originated, and by what weights it was balanced; by what caverns the seas were supplied; by what gravity all things being carried down tend always to the middle of the world, which in any round body is the lowest place.
Let us, then, pitch upon some man perfectly acquainted with the most excellent arts; let us present him for awhile to our own thoughts, and figure him to our own imaginations.
In the first place, he must necessarily be of an extraordinary capacity; for virtue is not easily connected with dull minds.
Secondly, he must have a great desire of discovering truth, from whence will arise that threefold production of the mind; one of which depends on knowing things, and explaining nature; the other, in defining what we ought to desire and what to avoid; the third, in judging of consequences and impossibilities, in which consists both subtlety in disputing and also clearness of judgment.
Now, with what pleasure must the mind of a wise man be affected which continually dwells in the midst of such cares and occupations as these, when he views the revolutions and motions of the whole world, and sees those innumerable stars in the heavens, which, though fixed in their places, have yet one motion in common with the whole universe, and observes the seven other stars, some higher, some lower, each maintaining their own course, while their motions, though wandering, have certain defined and appointed spaces to run through! The sight of which doubtless urged and encouraged those ancient philosophers to exercise their investigating spirit on many other things.
Hence arose an inquiry after the beginnings, and, as it were, seeds from which all things were produced and composed; what was the origin of every kind of thing, whether animate or inanimate, articulately speaking or mute; what occasioned their beginning and end, and by what alteration and change one thing was converted into another; whence the earth originated, and by what weights it was balanced; by what caverns the seas were supplied; by what gravity all things being carried down tend always to the middle of the world, which in any round body is the lowest place.
—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 5.24
I feel quite silly employing the power of reason, in conversation with another creature defined by reason, explaining why the excellence of reason is the source of all our goods. It is something like the feeling of waste that comes from arguing with a fellow who claims to know that nothing can be known, or who insists it to be an objective truth that all truth is subjective. However intense our passions may be, they can only be measured and interpreted by our judgments, so I cannot really trust the sophist who ends up relying on the very things he wishes to deny.
Common-sense philosophers, like Aristotle or Epictetus, have always reminded me not to engage with someone who refuses to follow logic; I have gradually come round to following their blunt advice. What we now like to call “science” needs to be more than the tabulation of empirical data, for behind the facts of experience stands the discovery of the principles by which we interpret those experiences: the universals informing the particulars, the absolute by which we estimate the relative, the necessary that grounds the contingent.
In other words, whether we initially like it or not, philosophy provides the foundation for all meaning and value, so that when we abandon our reason, we blind ourselves to the true and the good. This is why wisdom is the condition for any benefit in this world, and why the pursuit of wisdom is the only path to peace. If being happy demands living well, how am I to differentiate the right from the wrong? If you tell me to do what is good and to avoid what is evil, where can there be a distinction without the discernment of a prior understanding?
The sage does not turn out to be such a ridiculous figure after all. It is easy to scorn him by making him look impractical, and yet a moral compass ends up being the most useful tool in my kit. I appreciate how Cicero asks me to imagine the philosopher in his daily life, not merely by the appearance of his scholarship. What qualities does he possess? His habits of thinking must be sharp. What drives him to act? He is full of wonder. He wishes to know the reasons why, he is eager to establish a standard for himself, and he will never fail to put the premises before the conclusion.
What does his gazing at the heavens have to do with becoming a solid and decent sort of human being? To channel my best Immanuel Kant, the starry sky above and the moral law within are both instances of an innate purpose, whatever the scale, where the place of each humble individual is as dignified as the workings of the entire Universe. When I can learn more about why I am here, I am also living in harmony with the whole of Nature. No fame or fortune can buy that kind of serenity.
I certainly do not understand it all, nor can I pretend to even perceive the most of it. I catch glimpses over here, and some reflections over there, and I am thereby challenged to assemble these pieces as best I can, a process that will not end as long as I live. The Thomist in me remembers how I see through a glass darkly, such that I do not even fully know the essence of a flea; this is not a burden, but the very opportunity for growth, the vital progress from the lesser to the greater, from the effects back to the causes.
By looking to the heavens, I cannot help but improve myself. I would be a fool to just stare at my shoes in weariness.
I feel quite silly employing the power of reason, in conversation with another creature defined by reason, explaining why the excellence of reason is the source of all our goods. It is something like the feeling of waste that comes from arguing with a fellow who claims to know that nothing can be known, or who insists it to be an objective truth that all truth is subjective. However intense our passions may be, they can only be measured and interpreted by our judgments, so I cannot really trust the sophist who ends up relying on the very things he wishes to deny.
Common-sense philosophers, like Aristotle or Epictetus, have always reminded me not to engage with someone who refuses to follow logic; I have gradually come round to following their blunt advice. What we now like to call “science” needs to be more than the tabulation of empirical data, for behind the facts of experience stands the discovery of the principles by which we interpret those experiences: the universals informing the particulars, the absolute by which we estimate the relative, the necessary that grounds the contingent.
In other words, whether we initially like it or not, philosophy provides the foundation for all meaning and value, so that when we abandon our reason, we blind ourselves to the true and the good. This is why wisdom is the condition for any benefit in this world, and why the pursuit of wisdom is the only path to peace. If being happy demands living well, how am I to differentiate the right from the wrong? If you tell me to do what is good and to avoid what is evil, where can there be a distinction without the discernment of a prior understanding?
The sage does not turn out to be such a ridiculous figure after all. It is easy to scorn him by making him look impractical, and yet a moral compass ends up being the most useful tool in my kit. I appreciate how Cicero asks me to imagine the philosopher in his daily life, not merely by the appearance of his scholarship. What qualities does he possess? His habits of thinking must be sharp. What drives him to act? He is full of wonder. He wishes to know the reasons why, he is eager to establish a standard for himself, and he will never fail to put the premises before the conclusion.
What does his gazing at the heavens have to do with becoming a solid and decent sort of human being? To channel my best Immanuel Kant, the starry sky above and the moral law within are both instances of an innate purpose, whatever the scale, where the place of each humble individual is as dignified as the workings of the entire Universe. When I can learn more about why I am here, I am also living in harmony with the whole of Nature. No fame or fortune can buy that kind of serenity.
I certainly do not understand it all, nor can I pretend to even perceive the most of it. I catch glimpses over here, and some reflections over there, and I am thereby challenged to assemble these pieces as best I can, a process that will not end as long as I live. The Thomist in me remembers how I see through a glass darkly, such that I do not even fully know the essence of a flea; this is not a burden, but the very opportunity for growth, the vital progress from the lesser to the greater, from the effects back to the causes.
By looking to the heavens, I cannot help but improve myself. I would be a fool to just stare at my shoes in weariness.
—Reflection written in 2/1999
Saturday, September 13, 2025
Nuns on the Run
Good for them!
"Before I die in that old people's home, I would rather go to a meadow and enter eternity that way," said Sister Bernadette.
Friday, September 12, 2025
Burning of the Houses
This Is What You Shall Do . . .
This is what you shall do: love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to every one that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence towards the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown, or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons, and with the young, and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school, or church, or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem, and have the richest fluency, not only in its words, but in the silent lines of its lips and face, and between the lashes of your eyes, and in every motion and joint of your body.
— Walt Whitman, preface to Leaves of Grass
IMAGE: Winslow Homer, Boys in a Pasture (1874)
Thursday, September 11, 2025
Sayings of Ramakrishna 271
She is like a high-born lady transacting all her business from behind the screen, seeing all, but seen by none.
Her devout sons only see Her, by going near Her and behind the screen of Mâyâ.
IMAGE: Utagawa Toyokuni, Ladies Behind a Screen in a Daimyo's Mansion (c. 1790)
Stoic Snippets 270
—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 12.11
IMAGE: Pietro da Cortona, The Triumph of Divine Providence (1633)
Wednesday, September 10, 2025
Tuesday, September 9, 2025
Justus Lipsius, On Constancy 1.11
Here is confuted the second affection of too much love to our country; which love is falsely termed piety. Whence this affection springs, and what is our country properly and truly.
Then Langius smiling replied: "Certainly you are a marvelous pious young man: and I fear that the brother of Marcus Antonius is now in danger to be deprived of his surname. But it falls out fitly that this affection offers itself in sallying before his ensign: I will assault him therefore, and overthrow him lightly. And first will I take from him the spoil of that precious garment wherewith he is unworthily attired.
"This affection to our country is commonly called pietas, that is piety: why it should be so named I neither see nor can suffer it. For wherefore should we call it by the name of piety, which is an excellent virtue, and properly nothing else but a lawful and due honor and love towards God and our parents.
"Why should our country be placed in the midst between these? Because, say they, it is our most ancient and holiest mother. O fools, injurious to reason and nature herself: is she our mother? How? Or wherefore? Truly I see no such reason: and if you, Lipsius, if you be sharper sighted than I, lighten my dark senses.
"Is it because she first received us into this word? For so you seemed to affirm before. So might any taverner or innkeeper. Is it because she cherishes us? Much better does some silly maid or nurse. Is it because she nourishes us? So do cattle, trees, and corn daily: and, among the greater substances which do borrow nothing of the earth, the firmament, air, and water. Finally, change your habitation, and every other part of the world will do thus much for you.
"These are floating and fleeing words, savoring of nothing, but an unpleasant juice of popular opinion. They alone are our parents that began, shaped, and bore us: we are seed of their seed, blood of their blood, and flesh of their flesh. If any of these things agree any ways to our country, then I confess that I go about wrongfully to bereave it of this duty of piety.
"You will say that great learned clerics have so spoken of it. They have indeed so spoken, following the common opinion, but not that they were so persuaded themselves. But if you will follow the truth, you shall attribute that sacred and high title to God, and also, if you think good, to our parents; but as for this affection to our country, being first bridled and restrained to a mean, let it be contented in God's name with the title of Love or Charity.
"Yet is this only a contention about the name; let us come nearer to the thing itself. Which I do not wholly take away, but temper, and, as it were, scarify it with the lance of right reason. For as a vine if it is not pruned, spreads itself too far abroad, so do affections fly about with full sail being blown with the plausible puffs of popularity.
"And notwithstanding here by the way I confess—for I am not degenerated from a man, nor from a citizen—I confess, I say, that every one of us has an inclination and good will to his lesser country, the causes whereof I perceive are to you unknown. You would have it to be from nature: but the truth is, it grows of custom, or of some decree and ordinance.
"You will say that great learned clerics have so spoken of it. They have indeed so spoken, following the common opinion, but not that they were so persuaded themselves. But if you will follow the truth, you shall attribute that sacred and high title to God, and also, if you think good, to our parents; but as for this affection to our country, being first bridled and restrained to a mean, let it be contented in God's name with the title of Love or Charity.
"Yet is this only a contention about the name; let us come nearer to the thing itself. Which I do not wholly take away, but temper, and, as it were, scarify it with the lance of right reason. For as a vine if it is not pruned, spreads itself too far abroad, so do affections fly about with full sail being blown with the plausible puffs of popularity.
"And notwithstanding here by the way I confess—for I am not degenerated from a man, nor from a citizen—I confess, I say, that every one of us has an inclination and good will to his lesser country, the causes whereof I perceive are to you unknown. You would have it to be from nature: but the truth is, it grows of custom, or of some decree and ordinance.
"For after that men forsook their wild and savage manner of living, and began to build houses and walled towns, to join in society, and to use means offensive and defensive, behold then a certain communion necessarily began among them, and a social participation of diverse things. They parted the earth between them with certain limits and bounds; they had temples in common; also marketplaces, treasuries, seats of judgment; and principally ceremonies, rites, laws.
"All which things our greediness began in time so to esteem and make account of, as if they were our own in particular, and so they be in some sort, for that every private citizen had some interest in them, neither did they differ from private possessions, saving that they were not wholly in one man's power. This consociation and fellowship gave the form and fashion to a new erected state, which now we call properly the commonwealth, or our country.
"Wherein when men saw the chiefest stay of each person's safety to consist, laws were enacted for the succor and defense thereof; or at the least such customs were received by tradition from the predecessors to their posterity, that grew to be of like force as laws. Herehence it comes to pass that we rejoice at the good of the commonwealth, and be sorry for her harm; because our own private goods are secure by her safety, and are lost by her overthrow.
"From this fountain does spring the streams of our goodwill and love toward her; which affection in respect of the common good (the secret providence of God leading thereunto) our ancestors increased, by all possible means establish and maintaining the majesty of their country.
"It appears therefore in my judgment, that this affection had his beginning from custom, and not from nature, as you pretend. Else why should not the same measure of that affection be indifferently in all men? Why should the nobility and rich men have more care of their country than the poor people, who commonly take care for their private matters but none at all for the public affairs? Which thing falls out otherwise in all passions that be governed by the instinct of nature.
"It appears therefore in my judgment, that this affection had his beginning from custom, and not from nature, as you pretend. Else why should not the same measure of that affection be indifferently in all men? Why should the nobility and rich men have more care of their country than the poor people, who commonly take care for their private matters but none at all for the public affairs? Which thing falls out otherwise in all passions that be governed by the instinct of nature.
"Finally what reason can you allege that so small and light an occasion should oftentimes assuage, yea wholly extinguish it? See how every day some for anger, some for love, some for ambition forsake their country? And what a multitude are drawn away by that idol lucre? How many Italians forsaking Italy the queen of countries only for greediness of gain have removed their dwellings into France, Germany, yea even into Sarmatia? How many thousand Spaniards do ambition draw daily into another world from us? These arguments prove invincibly that the band whereby we are linked thus to our country is but external and accidental, in that it is so easily broken by one inordinate lust.
"Moreover, Lipsius, you are greatly deceived in describing this country of ours: for you tie it very narrowly to that native soil where we were born and had our education, with other like frivolous allegations, from whence you labor in vain to pick out natural causes of our affection toward her.
"Moreover, Lipsius, you are greatly deceived in describing this country of ours: for you tie it very narrowly to that native soil where we were born and had our education, with other like frivolous allegations, from whence you labor in vain to pick out natural causes of our affection toward her.
"And if it be the native soil where we were born that deserves this title of our country then were Brussels only my country, and Iscanum yours; and to some other man, a poor cottage or cell; yea unto many, not so much as a cottage, but a wood, or else the open field; what then? Shall my good will and affections be shut up within those narrow walls? Shall I settle my disposition and love upon one town or house as my country? What folly were that?
"You see also that by your description none are happier than those that are born in the woods and open fields, which are always flourishing, and seldom or never be subject to desolation or wasting. No, no, our country is not as you take it, but it is, some one state, or as it were one common ship, under the regiment of one prince, or one law: which I confess we ought to love, to defend, and to die for it; yet must it not drive us to lament, wail and despair. Well said the poet,
A happy quarrel is it and a good,
For country's cause to spend our dearest blood.
"He said not that we should weep and lament, but die for our country. For we must so far forth be good commonwealth's men, that we also retain the person of good and honest men, which we lose if we betake us to childish and womanlike lamentations.
"Last of all, Lipsius, I have you learn this one hidden and deep mystery, that if we respect the whole nature of man, all these earthly countries are vain and falsely so termed, except only in respect of the body, and not of the mind or soul, which descending down from that highest habitation, deems all the whole earth as a jail or prison, but heaven is our true and rightful country, whither let us advance all our cogitations, that we may freely say with Anaxagoras to such as foolishly ask us whether we have no regard to our country? Yes verily but yonder is our country, lifting our finger and mind up toward heaven."
For country's cause to spend our dearest blood.
"He said not that we should weep and lament, but die for our country. For we must so far forth be good commonwealth's men, that we also retain the person of good and honest men, which we lose if we betake us to childish and womanlike lamentations.
"Last of all, Lipsius, I have you learn this one hidden and deep mystery, that if we respect the whole nature of man, all these earthly countries are vain and falsely so termed, except only in respect of the body, and not of the mind or soul, which descending down from that highest habitation, deems all the whole earth as a jail or prison, but heaven is our true and rightful country, whither let us advance all our cogitations, that we may freely say with Anaxagoras to such as foolishly ask us whether we have no regard to our country? Yes verily but yonder is our country, lifting our finger and mind up toward heaven."
Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 5.23
M. Shall I not, then, prefer the life of Plato and Archytas, manifestly wise and learned men, to his, than which nothing can possibly be more horrid, or miserable, or detestable?
I will present you with an humble and obscure mathematician of the same city, called Archimedes, who lived many years after; whose tomb, overgrown with shrubs and briers, I in my quaestorship discovered, when the Syracusans knew nothing of it, and even denied that there was any such thing remaining; for I remembered some verses, which I had been informed were engraved on his monument, and these set forth that on the top of the tomb there was placed a sphere with a cylinder.
When I had carefully examined all the monuments (for there are a great many tombs at the gate Achradinae), I observed a small column standing out a little above the briers, with the figure of a sphere and a cylinder upon it; whereupon I immediately said to the Syracusans—for there were some of their principal men with me there—that I imagined that was what I was inquiring for.
Several men, being sent in with scythes, cleared the way, and made an opening for us. When we could get at it, and were come near to the front of the pedestal, I found the inscription, though the latter parts of all the verses were effaced almost half away.
Thus one of the noblest cities of Greece, and one which at one time likewise had been very celebrated for learning, had known nothing of the monument of its greatest genius, if it had not been discovered to them by a native of Arpinum.
But to return to the subject from which I have been digressing. Who is there in the least degree acquainted with the Muses, that is, with liberal knowledge, or that deals at all in learning, who would not choose to be this mathematician rather than that tyrant?
If we look into their methods of living and their employments, we shall find the mind of the one strengthened and improved with tracing the deductions of reason, amused with his own ingenuity, which is the one most delicious food of the mind; the thoughts of the other engaged in continual murders and injuries, in constant fears by night and by day.
Now imagine a Democritus, a Pythagoras, and an Anaxagoras; what kingdom, what riches, would you prefer to their studies and amusements? For you must necessarily look for that excellence which we are seeking for in that which is the most perfect part of man; but what is there better in man than a sagacious and good mind?
The enjoyment, therefore, of that good which proceeds from that sagacious mind can alone make us happy; but virtue is the good of the mind: it follows, therefore, that a happy life depends on virtue.
Hence proceed all things that are beautiful, honorable, and excellent, as I said above (but this point must, I think, be treated of more at large), and they are well stored with joys. For, as it is clear that a happy life consists in perpetual and unexhausted pleasures, it follows, too, that a happy life must arise from honesty.
I will present you with an humble and obscure mathematician of the same city, called Archimedes, who lived many years after; whose tomb, overgrown with shrubs and briers, I in my quaestorship discovered, when the Syracusans knew nothing of it, and even denied that there was any such thing remaining; for I remembered some verses, which I had been informed were engraved on his monument, and these set forth that on the top of the tomb there was placed a sphere with a cylinder.
When I had carefully examined all the monuments (for there are a great many tombs at the gate Achradinae), I observed a small column standing out a little above the briers, with the figure of a sphere and a cylinder upon it; whereupon I immediately said to the Syracusans—for there were some of their principal men with me there—that I imagined that was what I was inquiring for.
Several men, being sent in with scythes, cleared the way, and made an opening for us. When we could get at it, and were come near to the front of the pedestal, I found the inscription, though the latter parts of all the verses were effaced almost half away.
Thus one of the noblest cities of Greece, and one which at one time likewise had been very celebrated for learning, had known nothing of the monument of its greatest genius, if it had not been discovered to them by a native of Arpinum.
But to return to the subject from which I have been digressing. Who is there in the least degree acquainted with the Muses, that is, with liberal knowledge, or that deals at all in learning, who would not choose to be this mathematician rather than that tyrant?
If we look into their methods of living and their employments, we shall find the mind of the one strengthened and improved with tracing the deductions of reason, amused with his own ingenuity, which is the one most delicious food of the mind; the thoughts of the other engaged in continual murders and injuries, in constant fears by night and by day.
Now imagine a Democritus, a Pythagoras, and an Anaxagoras; what kingdom, what riches, would you prefer to their studies and amusements? For you must necessarily look for that excellence which we are seeking for in that which is the most perfect part of man; but what is there better in man than a sagacious and good mind?
The enjoyment, therefore, of that good which proceeds from that sagacious mind can alone make us happy; but virtue is the good of the mind: it follows, therefore, that a happy life depends on virtue.
Hence proceed all things that are beautiful, honorable, and excellent, as I said above (but this point must, I think, be treated of more at large), and they are well stored with joys. For, as it is clear that a happy life consists in perpetual and unexhausted pleasures, it follows, too, that a happy life must arise from honesty.
—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 5.23
I’m afraid that if I asked the people around me whether they would prefer to be tyrants or philosophers, I wouldn’t be terribly pleased with their answers, so that’s why I don’t bother to ask. Now they might have to admit how the life of the bigwig requires a fair amount of scheming and backstabbing, but they will assume it is a price worth paying for all the comforts it brings, and the life of an egghead hardly seems to offer any benefits worth mentioning.
As one of my students so eloquently expressed it, “The problem with philosophy is that it won’t get you laid!” I couldn’t bear to tell him how this said far more about his own shortcomings than those of the mindful man, since I was sure the irony would be lost on him. He is certainly not alone in measuring our human worth by its worst instincts—which of us has not reached for a diversion when we are laid low by a gnawing emptiness?
Is it really much of a surprise that the Syracusans no longer remembered the tomb of Archimedes? I think of the celebrities from my own generation, or those from the past whom we still hold in a formulaic esteem, and I am ashamed to admit how easily I am swept away by style instead of substance. Yet I suspect that Archimedes might not have been so troubled about his untended grave, as his sense of what was honorable ran far deeper.
It is said that Archimedes was most proud of his mathematical discoveries, though he was most commonly known for his inventions, and my students only recognize him for his hack to test the purity of gold. How telling that we find a man useful for making us richer, while we are bored when he strives to increase our understanding!
Perhaps that is a big part of our confusion: we fail to distinguish between being clever and being wise. That a wheeler-dealer like Dionysius has to be “smart” is clear enough, in an attempt to manipulate the circumstances to his advantage; how different this is from learning to master oneself, aiming only at the improvement of the soul.
When Cicero describes the consolation of the philosophical life, we are inclined to mistake this for a life of theoretical vanities, when the joys of the mind, however private or unassuming they may be, proceed rather from the pure exercise of our rational nature, and thereby become the fulfillment of our very essence. It is precisely when understanding is present that all the other conditions of our lives are revealed in their rightful context, and this is why the sage never needs to ask for anything more than the dignity of his own conscience.
The happiest people I have known have always been deeply aware, though they have not always been, as they say, the sharpest tools in the shed. They do not define themselves by the quantity of their winnings, but by the quality of their virtues, and so they are not in a rush to meet a quota, or desperate to gain the approval of others. Their “liberal” arts are concerned with the freedom of an inner discipline, far from the politics of lording it over their neighbors.
If being a Democritus, a Pythagoras, or an Anaxagoras means being a stuck-up nerd, I don’t want anything to do with it either. It doesn’t mean that, however, because the genuine philosopher, whether he studies at the academy or plows in the fields, is more concerned with his character than with his credentials. While I am highly unlikely to develop the insight of a Plato or the ingenuity of an Archytas, I do aim to follow them in their commitment to learning, which is the source for all other blessings.
Happiness flows from the practice of the virtues, and the virtues are honed by the pursuit of wisdom. Let the tyrant gamble with his fortune, and I will be content to be at peace with my principles. My honor does not call for any further monument.
I’m afraid that if I asked the people around me whether they would prefer to be tyrants or philosophers, I wouldn’t be terribly pleased with their answers, so that’s why I don’t bother to ask. Now they might have to admit how the life of the bigwig requires a fair amount of scheming and backstabbing, but they will assume it is a price worth paying for all the comforts it brings, and the life of an egghead hardly seems to offer any benefits worth mentioning.
As one of my students so eloquently expressed it, “The problem with philosophy is that it won’t get you laid!” I couldn’t bear to tell him how this said far more about his own shortcomings than those of the mindful man, since I was sure the irony would be lost on him. He is certainly not alone in measuring our human worth by its worst instincts—which of us has not reached for a diversion when we are laid low by a gnawing emptiness?
Is it really much of a surprise that the Syracusans no longer remembered the tomb of Archimedes? I think of the celebrities from my own generation, or those from the past whom we still hold in a formulaic esteem, and I am ashamed to admit how easily I am swept away by style instead of substance. Yet I suspect that Archimedes might not have been so troubled about his untended grave, as his sense of what was honorable ran far deeper.
It is said that Archimedes was most proud of his mathematical discoveries, though he was most commonly known for his inventions, and my students only recognize him for his hack to test the purity of gold. How telling that we find a man useful for making us richer, while we are bored when he strives to increase our understanding!
Perhaps that is a big part of our confusion: we fail to distinguish between being clever and being wise. That a wheeler-dealer like Dionysius has to be “smart” is clear enough, in an attempt to manipulate the circumstances to his advantage; how different this is from learning to master oneself, aiming only at the improvement of the soul.
When Cicero describes the consolation of the philosophical life, we are inclined to mistake this for a life of theoretical vanities, when the joys of the mind, however private or unassuming they may be, proceed rather from the pure exercise of our rational nature, and thereby become the fulfillment of our very essence. It is precisely when understanding is present that all the other conditions of our lives are revealed in their rightful context, and this is why the sage never needs to ask for anything more than the dignity of his own conscience.
The happiest people I have known have always been deeply aware, though they have not always been, as they say, the sharpest tools in the shed. They do not define themselves by the quantity of their winnings, but by the quality of their virtues, and so they are not in a rush to meet a quota, or desperate to gain the approval of others. Their “liberal” arts are concerned with the freedom of an inner discipline, far from the politics of lording it over their neighbors.
If being a Democritus, a Pythagoras, or an Anaxagoras means being a stuck-up nerd, I don’t want anything to do with it either. It doesn’t mean that, however, because the genuine philosopher, whether he studies at the academy or plows in the fields, is more concerned with his character than with his credentials. While I am highly unlikely to develop the insight of a Plato or the ingenuity of an Archytas, I do aim to follow them in their commitment to learning, which is the source for all other blessings.
Happiness flows from the practice of the virtues, and the virtues are honed by the pursuit of wisdom. Let the tyrant gamble with his fortune, and I will be content to be at peace with my principles. My honor does not call for any further monument.
—Reflection written in 2/1999
IMAGES:
Domenico Fetti, Archimedes (c. 1620)
Benjamin West, Cicero Discovering the Tomb of Archimedes (1804)
Monday, September 8, 2025
Dhammapada 405
Him I call indeed a Brahmana who finds no fault with other beings, whether feeble or strong, and does not kill nor cause slaughter.
Sunday, September 7, 2025
Sayings of Publilius Syrus 181
IMAGE: Thomas Cole, Expulsion from the Garden of Eden (1828)
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