Dio Chrysostom, The Euboean Discourse 4

"While I was thus speaking, a man rose in their midst, and I thought to myself that perhaps he was another of the same sort who was going to slander me,  but he said: 'Sirs, for a long time I have been wondering whether I knew this man, but nevertheless was inclined to think that I did not. But now that I have clearly identified him, it seems to me that it would be dreadful, or rather a crime against heaven, for me not to corroborate his statements as far as I can, or express my gratitude in words after having in very deed received the greatest kindness at his hands.' 

"'I am,' he continued, 'a citizen here, as you are aware, and so is this man,' pointing to his neighbor, who thereupon rose also. 'Two years ago we happened to be sailing in Socles' boat when it was lost off Caphereus and only a handful of us were saved out of a large number. Now some were sheltered by purple-fishers, for a few had money in their wallets; but we who were cast ashore destitute tramped along a path, hoping to find some shelter among shepherds or herdsmen, for we were in danger of perishing from hunger and thirst. 

"'And after much hardship we did finally reach some huts and stopped and hallooed, when this man here came out, brought us in, and made a low fire which he gradually increased. Then he himself rubbed one of us, and his wife the other, with tallow, they had no olive oil. Finally, they poured warm water over us until they brought us around, chilled to the bone as we had been. 

"'Then, after making us recline and throwing about us what they had, they put wheaten loaves before us to eat while they themselves ate millet porridge. They also gave us wine to drink, they themselves drinking water, and they roasted venison in abundance, while some of it they boiled. 

"'And though we wanted to go away on the morrow, they held us back for three days. Then they escorted us down to the plains and gave us meat when we left them, as well as a very handsome pelt for each of us. And when this man here saw that I was still ill from my trying experience, he put on me a little tunic which he took from his daughter, and she girded a bit of cloth about herself instead. This I gave back when I reached the village. So, next to the gods, we owe our lives to this man especially.' 

"While he was thus speaking, the people listened with pleasure and showed me their approval, and I recalled it all and cried out, 'Hello, Sotades!' And I approached and kissed him and the other man. However, the people laughed heartily because I kissed them. Then I understood that in the cities people do not kiss one another. 

"Then that kind and good man who had spoken in my behalf at the beginning came forward and said, 'I move, sirs, that we invite this man to dine in the town hall. If he had saved one of our townsfolk in battle by covering him with his shield, would he not have received many large gifts? But now, when he has saved two citizens, and perhaps others who are not here, is he entitled to no honor at all? For the tunic which he stripped from his daughter and gave to his fellow-townsman in distress, let the city give him a tunic and a cloak as an inducement to others to be righteous and to help one another. 

"'Further, let it vote that they and their children have the use of the farm free from molestation, and that the man himself be given one hundred drachmas for equipment; and as for this money, I offer it out of my own pocket on behalf of the city.' 

"For this he was applauded and the motion was carried. The clothes and the money were also brought into the theatre at once. But I was loath to accept, whereupon they said, 'You cannot dine in the skin.' 

"'Well then,' said I, 'I shall go without dinner today.' However, they put the tunic on me and threw the cloak over my shoulders. Then I wanted to throw my skin on top of all, but they would not let me. 

"The money I absolutely refused and swore that I would not take it. 'But if you are hunting for somebody who will take it,' said I, 'give it to that orator that he may bury it, for he knows all about that evidently.' And from that day nobody has bothered us." . . . 

Man's Search for Meaning 16

Undernourishment, besides being the cause of the general preoccupation with food, probably also explains the fact that the sexual urge was generally absent. Apart from the initial effects of shock, this appears to be the only explanation of a phenomenon which a psychologist was bound to observe in those all-male camps: that, as opposed to all other strictly male establishments—such as army barracks—there was little sexual perversion. 

Even in his dreams the prisoner did not seem to concern himself with sex, although his frustrated emotions and his finer, higher feelings did find definite expression in them. 

With the majority of the prisoners, the primitive life and the effort of having to concentrate on just saving one's skin led to a total disregard of anything not serving that purpose, and explained the prisoners' complete lack of sentiment. 

This was brought home to me on my transfer from Auschwitz to a camp affiliated with Dachau. The train which carried us—about 2,000 prisoners—passed through Vienna. At about midnight we passed one of the Viennese railway stations. The track was going to lead us past the street where I was born, past the house where I had lived many years of my life, in fact, until I was taken prisoner. 

There were fifty of us in the prison car, which had two small, barred peepholes. There was only enough room for one group to squat on the floor, while the others, who had to stand up for hours, crowded round the peepholes. 

Standing on tiptoe and looking past the others' heads through the bars of the window, I caught an eerie glimpse of my native town. We all felt more dead than alive, since we thought that our transport was heading for the camp at Mauthausen and that we had only one or two weeks to live. 

I had a distinct feeling that I saw the streets, the squares and the houses of my childhood with the eyes of a dead man who had come back from another world and was looking down on a ghostly city. 

After hours of delay the train left the station. And there was the street—my street! The young lads who had a number of years of camp life behind them and for whom such a journey was a great event stared attentively through the peephole. 

I began to beg them, to entreat them, to let me stand in front for one moment only. I tried to explain how much a look through that window meant to me just then. 

My request was refused with rudeness and cynicism: "You lived here all those years? Well, then you have seen quite enough already!" 

—from Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning 

Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 5.34

M. For who does not see this, that an appetite is the best sauce? When Darius, in his flight from the enemy, had drunk some water which was muddy and tainted with dead bodies, he declared that he had never drunk anything more pleasant; the fact was, that he had never drunk before when he was thirsty. 
 
Nor had Ptolemy ever eaten when he was hungry; for as he was travelling over Egypt, his company not keeping up with him, he had some coarse bread presented him in a cottage, upon which he said, “Nothing ever seemed to him pleasanter than that bread.” 
 
They relate, too, of Socrates, that, once when he was walking very fast till the evening, on his being asked why he did so, his reply was that he was purchasing an appetite by walking, that he might sup the better. 
 
And do we not see what the Lacedaemonians provide at their public table? Where the tyrant Dionysius supped, but told them he did not at all like that black broth, which was their principal dish; on which he who dressed it said, “It was no wonder, for it wanted seasoning.” Dionysius asked what that seasoning was; to which it was replied, “Fatigue in hunting, sweating, a race on the banks of Eurotas, hunger and thirst,” for these are the seasonings to the Lacedaemonian banquets. 
 
And this may not only be conceived from the custom of men, but from the beasts, who are satisfied with anything that is thrown before them, provided it is not unnatural, and they seek no farther. 
 
Some entire cities, taught by custom, delight in parsimony, as I said but just now of the Lacedaemonians. Xenophon has given an account of the Persian diet, who never, as he said, use anything but cresses with their bread; not but that, should nature require anything more agreeable, many things might be easily supplied by the ground, and plants in great abundance, and of incomparable sweetness. 
 
Add to this strength and health, as the consequence of this abstemious way of living. Now, compare with this those who sweat and belch, being crammed with eating, like fatted oxen; then will you perceive that they who pursue pleasure most attain it least; and that the pleasure of eating lies not in satiety, but appetite. 

—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 5.34 
 
The Epicureans were certainly onto something here, though I now realize how all the thoughtful people, regardless of their peculiar schools, were patiently giving me this advice from the very beginning, even as I smugly rolled my eyes. Sometimes we are too smart for our own good, assuming we have nothing to learn from those who have already trod the path. In such a case, I can only hope to catch on before it is too late. 
 
I might think that getting more will accordingly grant me greater contentment, when Nature has thrown me for a loop, as she is rather fond of doing, by arranging for moderation to be the true source of appreciation. If I receive everything that I desire, I will immediately long for more, but if I have to struggle for the slightest rewards, I can now savor them thoroughly, having learned their true value. 
 
And what is perhaps most remarkable is that the arrangement works best when I freely deny myself, instead of just begrudgingly bearing my circumstances. It may take some time to recognize how we are made to rule ourselves with joy, rather than being ruled by others with resentment, and why a genuine satisfaction rests in depth over breadth, in perfecting ourselves through the very little we need, not in being enslaved to every alluring impulse. Less becomes more, because we are discovering how to be more while simultaneously having less. 
 
I do not believe it an exaggeration to say that our contemporary America is largely driven by gluttony, avarice, and lust. We feed our faces, we hoard our toys, and we chase after the holy orgasm, even as we cover it with a veneer of respectability, which merely adds vanity into the mix. If you find such a claim preposterous, ask yourself what the little green men see when they scan our broadcasts, for that shamefully exposes our real priorities. 
 
This is not grounds for despair, only for constancy. It does not make the task impossible; it simply makes the calling noble. Following one failure after another, all on account of my disordered judgments, I am beginning to nod my head when I read about Darius, Ptolemy, Socrates, or those frustrating Spartans. They knew that how we approach something will determine everything about its worth to us, with absence being a powerful means for developing gratitude. 
 
Thirst reveals the power of the filthiest water. Hunger transforms a slice of stale bread into a banquet. A hard day’s makes us earn our supper. I am not certain about the recipe for black stew, but I am told that even this would surely have been for special occasions, as it contained pork, and the daily meal would more likely have involved lentils. I can only add that one of the most satisfying meals I have ever eaten was a chunk of dry salami and two pieces of crispbread, enjoyed under a boulder during a thunderstorm. 
 
It is bad enough that processed foods make us fat, and luxuries make us lazy, and smut makes us insensitive; it is worse that the rot in the soul is far more harmful than any rot to the flesh. While they insist upon a salvation through technology, find comfort in the refuge of philosophy. 

—Reflection written in 3/1999 

IMAGE: Vincent van Gogh, The Potato Eaters (1885) 

Snow Storm 2

J.M.W. Turner, Snow Storm: Steamboat off a Harbor's Mouth (c. 1842) 

Defeat

"Defeat"

Kahlil Gibran (1883-1931) 

Defeat, my Defeat, my solitude and my aloofness; 

You are dearer to me than a thousand triumphs, 

And sweeter to my heart than all world-glory. 

 

Defeat, my Defeat, my self-knowledge and my defiance, 

Through you I know that I am yet young and swift of foot 

And not to be trapped by withering laurels. 

And in you I have found aloneness 

And the joy of being shunned and scorned. 

 

Defeat, my Defeat, my shining sword and shield, 

In your eyes I have read 

That to be enthroned is to be enslaved, 

And to be understood is to be leveled down, 

And to be grasped is but to reach one’s fullness 

And like a ripe fruit to fall and be consumed. 

 

Defeat, my Defeat, my bold companion, 

You shall hear my songs and my cries and my silences, 

And none but you shall speak to me of the beating of wings, 

And urging of seas, 

And of mountains that burn in the night, 

And you alone shall climb my steep and rocky soul. 

 

Defeat, my Defeat, my deathless courage, 

You and I shall laugh together with the storm, 

And together we shall dig graves for all that die in us, 

And we shall stand in the sun with a will, 

And we shall be dangerous. 

IMAGE: Peter Paul Rubens, The Defeat of Sennacherib (c. 1614) 

Stobaeus on Stoic Ethics 16

All good things are beneficial and well used and advantageous and profitable and virtuous and fitting and honorable; there is an affinity to them. 

Conversely, all bad things are harmful and ill used and disadvantageous and unprofitable and base and unfitting and shameful, and there is no affinity to them. 

The Stoics say that "good" is used in many senses; the primary sense, which plays a role like that of a source for the other senses, is that which is stated as follows: that from which it characteristically results that one is benefited, or he by whom it results that one is benefited, and what is good in the primary sense is the cause. 

The second sense is that in accordance with which it characteristically results that one is benefited.  

A more general sense, and one extending also to the previous cases, is that which is such as to benefit. 

Similarly, the bad too is defined in outline by analogy with the good: that from which, or by whom, it characteristically results that one is harmed, and that in accordance with which it characteristically results that one is harmed; more general than these is that which is such as to harm. 

IMAGE: Victor Orsel, Good and Evil (1832) 

Dio Chrysostom, The Euboean Discourse 3

"When he had thus concluded, that first speaker again spoke in reply, and the two stormed at each other for a long time. But finally I was bidden to say whatever I wished. 

"'And what ought I to say?' I asked. 'Reply to what has been said,' cried one from his seat. 

"'Well then, I declare,' said I, 'that there is not one word of truth in what he has said. And as for me, sirs,' I continued, 'I thought I was dreaming when he prated about fields and villages and such like. We have no village or horses or asses or cattle. I wish we might possess all the good things he described, that we might not only have given to you but might also belong to the wealthy class ourselves! Yet what we even now have is sufficient for us, and do you take whatever you wish of it. Even if you want all, we shall replace it.' At these words they applauded. 

"Thereupon the magistrate asked me what we would be able to give to the people, to which I replied, 'Four deer pelts of excellent quality.' Here the majority laughed and the magistrate was vexed at me. 

"'That is because the bear skins are rough,' I continued, 'and the goat skins are not as good as they. Some are old and some are small. But take these too, if you wish.' 

"Then he was vexed once more and said that I was a downright landloper,⁠ and I replied, 'Do I again hear mention of lands, and from you? Did I not tell you that we have no lands?'

"He asked next whether we would agree each to give an Attic talent,⁠ and I replied, 'We do not weigh our meat, but we will give whatever we have. There is a little salted down, but the rest is smoked and not much inferior to the other. There are sides of bacon and venison and other excellent meats.' 

"Then they did raise an uproar and called me a liar. The man also asked me if we had any grain and about how much. I told him the exact amount. 'Three bushels of wheat,' said I, 'six of barley, and the same amount of millet, but only four quarts of beans, since there were none this year. Now do you take the wheat and the barley,' said I, 'and leave us the millet. But if you need millet, take it too.' 

"'And do you not make any wine?' another asked. 'We make it,' I said, 'so that if any one of you comes, we will hand it over, but be sure to bring some kind of wineskin with you, since we haven't any.' 

"'Now, just how many vines have you?' 'Two,' I replied, 'outside our doors, twenty in the yard, the same number across the river that we set out recently. They are of very fine quality and yield large clusters when the passers‑by leave them alone. But to spare you the trouble of asking about every detail, I will tell you what else we have: eight she-goats, a mulley⁠ cow with a very pretty calf, four sickles, four grub hoes, three spears, and each of us owns a hunting knife. As for the crockery—why should one mention that? We have wives too, and children by them. We live in two pretty huts, and we have a third where the grain and the pelts are kept.' 

"'Yes by heavens,' said the orator, 'where you bury your money too, I suspect.' 'Well then,' said I, 'come and dig it up, you fool! Who buries money in the ground? It certainly does not grow.' Then everybody laughed, and it was at him, I thought.

"'That is what we have; and now, if you want everything, we are willing to give it to you voluntarily. There is no need for you to take it from us by force as though it belonged to foreigners or rogues; for, mark you, we are citizens too of this city, as I used to hear my father say. And once he too came here just when a grant of money was being made, as it happened, and got some too along with the rest. 

"'Therefore we are raising our children to be your fellow citizens; and should you ever need them, they will help you against brigands and foreign foes. Just now there is peace; but if ever such a crisis does arise, you will pray heaven that the majority be like ourselves. For do not imagine that this talker will fight for you then, unless, indeed, it be to scold like a woman. 

"'Besides, whenever we catch any game, we will give you a part of the meat and of the skins; only send someone to get them. Then if you bid us raze our huts, we will do so if they trouble you. But you must give us housing here; else how shall we endure the winter's cold? You have many empty houses inside the city walls; one of them will be enough for us. Yet if we choose to live elsewhere than here and thus avoid adding to the congestion caused by so many people being huddled together, that surely is no reason for moving us. 

"'Then as to that ghoulish and wicked practice in case of wrecked vessels which the speaker had the hardihood to accuse us of—and I almost forgot to speak of it, although I should have done so at the very start—who among you could possibly believe him? Not to mention the impiety of it, it is impossible to salvage anything at all there. Indeed, all the timber you can find there is the splinters, so very small are the fragments cast up. 

"'Besides, that is the most inaccessible beach in existence. And the oar-blades which I once found cast ashore—why, I nailed them to the sacred oak that grows by the sea. Pray god I may never get or earn any profit like that from human misfortune! Why, I have never made anything out of it, but many is the time I have pitied shipwrecked travelers who have come to my door, taken them into my hut, given them to eat and to drink, helped them in any other way that I could, and accompanied them until they got out of the wilderness. 

"'Yet who of them is there who will testify for me now? And I never did that to win a testimonial or gratitude; why, I never knew where the men came from even. I pray that none of you may ever undergo such an experience.'" . . . 

Bach 1, Gottes Zeit ist die allerbeste Zeit

I was raised on the music of Bach, even if it took me some time to recognize what a blessing it was, providing me with most all of the tools I needed to maintain a sharp mind and a caring heart. 

During breakfast on Sunday mornings, the family would always listen to the cantata for that week, and to this day I will hum arias in my head, much like I imagine others sing along to the favorite pop songs of their youth. 

Gottes Zeit ist die allerbeste Zeit, or also known as Actus tragicus, was a favorite, probably because I was originally confused by some of the German lyrics, thinking it was about selling real estate, instead of getting one's house in order to meet our Maker. 

Who would ever have thought that very similarly expressed Stoic sayings would put a smile on my face, so many decades later? 

My preference has always been for interpretations of Bach by Nikolaus Harnoncourt and Concentus Musicus, though I am not educated enough in the workings of Early Music to defend that attachment. 

Recently, I have been following the work of the Netherlands Bach Society, who intend to gradually release the complete works free of charge, in HD video. I will not see the project finished, but perhaps my son will. I applaud the noble intent to provide it as a sort of public service! 

At any time of the day, for whatever the occasion, you can't go wrong putting on a record by Bach. It is music made to nurture the soul, straight to the root. If you ever doubt the immediate presence of the True, the Good, and the Beautiful in this life, Bach will promptly rid you of such worries. 

Johann Sebastian Bach, Gottes Zeit ist die allerbeste Zeit, BWV 106, Netherlands Bach Society 

Proverbs 3:5-12

[5] Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and do not rely on your own insight.
[6] In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make straight your paths.
[7] Be not wise in your own eyes;
fear the Lord, and turn away from evil.
[8] It will be healing to your flesh
and refreshment to your bones.
[9] Honor the Lord with your substance
and with the first fruits of all your produce;
[10] then your barns will be filled with plenty,
and your vats will be bursting with wine.
[11] My son, do not despise the Lord's discipline
or be weary of his reproof,
[12] for the Lord reproves him whom he loves,
as a father the son in whom he delights. 

IMAGE: Pieter Bruegel the Elder, The Hay Harvest (1565) 

Delphic Maxims 84

Κρῖνε δίκαια 

Discern justly 

IMAGE: Jef Van der Veken (after Jan van Eyck), The Just Judges (1945/1432) 

Dio Chrysostom, The Euboean Discourse 2

"Now the other one of us has never yet been to town, though he is fifty years old, and I only twice—once when I was still a boy, with my father, when we had the cattle; and later on a man came demanding money, under the impression that we had some, and bade us follow him to the city. Now we had no money and swore on oath that we had not, adding that otherwise we would have given it. We entertained him as best we could and gave him two deerskins, and I followed him to the city,⁠ for he said it was necessary for one of us to go and explain this matter. 

"Now, as on my former trip, I saw many large houses and a strong surrounding wall with a number of lofty square structures⁠ on the wall and many boats lying in complete calm at anchor in a lake as it were. There is nothing like that anywhere here where you put in, and that is why the ships are wrecked. Now that is what I saw, and a big crowd herded in together and a tremendous uproar and shouting, so that I thought they were all fighting with one another. 

"Well, he brought me before certain magistrates and said with a laugh, 'This is the man you sent me for. He has nothing but his long hair and a hut of very strong timber.' Then the officials went into the theater and I with them. The theater is hollow like a ravine, except that it is not long in two directions but semi-circular, and not natural but built of stone. But perhaps you are laughing at me for telling you what you know perfectly well. 

"Now at first the crowd deliberated on other matters for a considerable while, and they kept up a shouting, at one time in gentle fashion and all of them in cheerful mood, as they applauded certain speakers, but at other times with vehemence and in wrath. This wrath of theirs was something terrible, and they at once frightened the men against whom they raised their voices, so that some of them ran about begging for mercy, while others threw off their cloaks for fear. 

"I too myself was once almost knocked over by the shouting, as though a tidal wave or thunder-storm had suddenly broken over me. And other men would come forward, or stand up where they were, and address the multitude, sometimes using a few words, at other times making long speeches. To some of these they would listen for quite a long time, but at others they were angry as soon as they opened their mouths, and they would not let them so much as cheep. 

"But when they finally settled down and there was quiet, they brought me forward. And some cried out, 'This man, sirs, is one of the fellows who have been enjoying the use of our public land for many years, and not only he but his father before him. They graze their cattle on our mountains, farm and hunt, have built many houses, have set out vines, and enjoy many other advantages without paying rent to anybody for the land or ever having received it from the people as a gift. 

"'For what, pray, would they ever have received it? And though they occupy what is ours and are wealthy, yet they have never performed any public service, nor do they pay any tax on what they make, but live free from taxes and public services as though they were benefactors of the city. Yes, and I believe,' he continued, 'that they have never come here before.' I shook my head,⁠ and the crowd laughed when they saw. This laughing enraged the speaker and he abused me roundly. 

"Then turning toward the audience once more, he said, 'Well, then, if these doings meet with your approval, we had all better lose no time in looting the public property, some of us taking the city's money, just as certain individuals are even now doing, no doubt, and others squatting upon the land without your consent, if you are going to let these backwoodsmen hold without payment more than 250 acres of the best land, from which you might get three Attic measures⁠of grain per head.' 

"When I heard this, I laughed as loud as I could. The crowd, however, did not laugh as before but became very noisy, while the fellow grew angry, and giving me a fierce look, said, 'Do you see the deceit­fulness and impudence of the scamp and how insolently he mocks me? I have a mind to have him and his partner dragged off to prison; for I understand that there are two ringleaders of this gang that has seized practically all the land in the mountains. 

"'Yes, and I do not believe they keep their hands off the wrecks that are cast up from time to time, living as they do almost above the rocks above Cape Caphereus.⁠ Where, otherwise, did they get such valuable fields, nay, rather, entire villages, and such numbers of cattle and draught animals and slaves? 

"'Perhaps, too, you note how poor his blouse is and the skin he put on to come here in order to deceive you with the notion that he is evidently a beggar and has nothing. For my part,' said he, 'when I look at him, I am almost frightened, as I fancy I should be if I saw Nauplius⁠ come from Caphereus. I believe he flashes mariners a signal from the heights so as to decoy them on to the rocks.' While he said this and much more besides, the crowd grew ugly, while I was sore perplexed and afraid they might do me some mischief. 

"Then another person came forward, a good kindly man, to judge from the words he spoke and from his appearance. He first asked the people to be silent, and they became silent, and then in a quiet tone he said that they who tilled the country's idle land and got it into shape did no wrong, but, on the contrary, deserved commendation. They should not be angry at those who built upon public land and planted trees upon it, but at those who injured it. 

"'At this moment, sirs,' he said, 'almost two-thirds of our land is a wilderness because of neglect and lack of population. I too own many acres, as I imagine some others do, not only in the mountains but also on the plains, and if anybody would till them, I should not only give him the chance for nothing but gladly pay money besides. For it is plain that they become more valuable to me, and at the same time the sight of land occupied and under cultivation is a pleasing one, while waste lands are not only a useless possession to those who hold them, but very distressing evidence of some misfortune of their owners. 

"'Wherefore, I advise you rather to encourage all the other citizens you can to take some of the public land and work it, those who have some capital taking more, and the poorer citizens as much as each is able to handle, that your land may be in use, and the citizens who accept may be free from two very great evils, idleness and poverty. 

"'So let these men have it free for ten years, and after that period let them agree to pay a small portion from their produce but nothing from their cattle. If any alien takes up land, let him likewise pay nothing for the first five years, but after that twice as much as the citizens. And let any alien who shall put fifty acres under cultivation be made a citizen, in order to encourage as many as possible. 

"'At the present moment even the land just outside the city gates is quite wild and terribly unattractive, as though it were in the depths of a wilderness and not in the suburbs of a city, while most of the land inside the walls is sown or grazed. It is therefore surprising that orators trump up charges against the industrious people of Caphereus in the remote parts of Euboea, and yet hold that the men farming the gymnasium and grazing cattle in the market-place are doing nothing out of the way. 

"'You can doubtless see for yourself that they have made your gymnasium into a ploughed field, so that the Heracles and numerous other statues are hidden by the corn, some those of heroes and others statues of gods. You see too, day after day, the sheep belonging to this orator invade the marketplace at dawn and graze about the council chamber and the executive buildings. Therefore, when strangers first come to our city, they either laugh at it or pity it.' Now on hearing this they burst into a rage against that first speaker in his turn and made a great uproar. 

"'Yet though the accuser does such things, he thinks that humble and needy citizens ought to be haled off to prison, so that no one, forsooth, may do any work hereafter, but that those outside the city may live by brigandage and those within by thievery. 

"'I move,' he continued, 'that we leave these men in possession of what they themselves have created, provided they pay a moderate tax hereafter, and that we cancel all arrears to date, since they tilled land that had been wild and valueless and gained possession in that way. If, however, they wish to pay a price for their farm, let us sell to them at a cheaper figure than to anybody else.'" . . . 

Sayings of Heraclitus 88

It is not good for men to get all they wish to get. 

It is sickness that makes health pleasant; evil, good; hunger, plenty; weariness, rest. 

IMAGE: Gabriel Metsu, The Sick Child (c. 1660) 

Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 5.33

M. You see, I imagine, how Epicurus has divided his kinds of desires, not very acutely perhaps, but yet usefully: saying that they are “partly natural and necessary; partly natural, but not necessary; partly neither. That those which are necessary may be supplied almost for nothing; for that the things which nature requires are easily obtained.” 
 
As to the second kind of desires, his opinion is that anyone may easily either enjoy or go without them. And with regard to the third, since they are utterly frivolous, being neither allied to necessity nor nature, he thinks that they should be entirely rooted out. 
 
On this topic a great many arguments are adduced by the Epicureans; and those pleasures which they do not despise in a body, they disparage one by one, and seem rather for lessening the number of them; for as to wanton pleasures, on which subject they say a great deal, these, say they, are easy, common, and within anyone’s reach; and they think that if nature requires them, they are not to be estimated by birth, condition, or rank, but by shape, age, and person: and that it is by no means difficult to refrain from them, should health, duty, or reputation require it; but that pleasures of this kind may be desirable, where they are attended with no inconvenience, but can never be of any use. 
 
And the assertions which Epicurus makes with respect to the whole of pleasure are such as show his opinion to be that pleasure is always desirable, and to be pursued merely because it is pleasure; and for the same reason pain is to be avoided, because it is pain. 
 
So that a wise man will always adopt such a system of counterbalancing as to do himself the justice to avoid pleasure, should pain ensue from it in too great a proportion; and will submit to pain, provided the effects of it are to produce a greater pleasure: so that all pleasurable things, though the corporeal senses are the judges of them, are still to be referred to the mind, on which account the body rejoices while it perceives a present pleasure; but that the mind not only perceives the present as well as the body, but foresees it while it is coming, and even when it is past will not let it quite slip away. 
 
So that a wise man enjoys a continual series of pleasures, uniting the expectation of future pleasure to the recollection of what he has already tasted. The like notions are applied by them to high living; and the magnificence and expensiveness of entertainments are deprecated, because nature is satisfied at a small expense. 

—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 5.33 
 
With Cicero, I cannot bring myself to agree with the Epicurean model of the human person, just as I also cannot subscribe to their larger view of Nature, but I do have a great admiration for any school that preaches such a serene form of self-mastery. I am, unfortunately, more familiar with the crude licentiousness that goes together with our contemporary brand of hedonism, and it just goes to show that even a philosophy grounded in the appetites does not need to be cursed by selfishness and vulgarity. 
 
Off course I am a creature of the senses, yet in itself an emotion contains no merit, and a passion is only as good as the understanding that informs it. That the Epicurean stresses the importance of prudence in guiding desire should indicate how he seeks out a broader awareness, though he still insists on defining everything by means of pleasure and pain. I would respectfully ask him to consider how the value of the feeling is relative to the value of the act, and why the capacity for happiness hinges upon the power of judgment. 
 
The temperance of an Epicurus can be said to approximate the virtues, while it may not be doing so for all the right reasons. In practice, however, observe his remarkable restraint in recognizing why most of our so-called pleasures are neither necessary nor beneficial. It can be helpful for me to examine this threefold division of my desires, so I might admit how many of the things I claim as requirements for my happiness are really just hindrances to my inner peace. 
 
Very little is needed to survive, and life makes only the slightest demands in order for us to thrive. What is it that keeps me from accepting this? I am working under the illusion that more is always better, mistaking quantity for quality and intensity for depth. If it is essential, nature has already provided for it. If it is optional, I can just as easily do without it. If it extraneous, I should rid myself of it completely. My demand for more luxury is a symptom of my weakness, not of my strength. 
 
In something akin to what later thinkers called an “enlightened self-interest”, the Epicureans calculated how the endurance of a certain pain could provide us with more lasting pleasure, just as the avoidance of a lesser pleasure could liberate us from a greater pain. In college, we would jokingly ask whether the drinking was worth the hangover, when we really should have wondered whether anything could justify the crippling lifetime of shame and regret that followed from the habits of gluttony and lust. This is why the sage is perfectly content with a glass of water and a pleasant view. 
 
I believe there is more to a good life than a balance sheet of pleasure and pain, but there is some wisdom in choosing our enjoyments with the bigger picture clearly in mind. If it is genuinely worthwhile, I will not only relish it for one moment, but I will also anticipate its coming and remember it fondly once it has passed. The lush fails to wait for a fine wine to age, as the lecher passes over a lifetime with a loyal woman in favor of an hour with a floozie. 
 
It's tragic when we say that we just want to have some fun, and then our fervor brings us nothing but misery. 

—Reflection written in 3/1999 

IMAGE: Agostino Scilla, Epicurus (c. 1670) 

"Whatever you do, do wisely and think of the consequences." 

Diogenes Toons

By JOHN PORCELLINO, King-Cat Comics 

Heimat

Graz, Austria, by BERND THALLER