13. The characteristic activities are not hindered by outer events
but merely adapt themselves, remaining always fine, and perhaps all
the finer for dealing with the actual. When he has to handle
particular cases and things, he may not be able to put his vision into
act without searching and thinking, but the one greatest principle
is ever present to him, like a part of his being- most of all present,
should he be even a victim in the much-talked-of Bull of Phalaris.
No doubt, despite all that has been said, it is idle to pretend that
this is an agreeable lodging; but what cries in the Bull is the
thing that feels the torture; in the Sage there is something else as
well, The Self-Gathered which, as long as it holds itself by main
force within itself, can never be robbed of the vision of the
All-Good.
14. For man, and especially the Sage, is not the Couplement of
soul and body: the proof is that man can be disengaged from the body
and disdain its nominal goods.
It would be absurd to think that happiness begins and ends with
the living-body: happiness is the possession of the good of life: it
is centred therefore in Soul, is an Act of the Soul- and not of all
the Soul at that: for it certainly is not characteristic of the
vegetative soul, the soul of growth; that would at once connect it
with the body.
A powerful frame, a healthy constitution, even a happy balance
of temperament, these surely do not make felicity; in the excess of
these advantages there is, even, the danger that the man be crushed
down and forced more and more within their power. There must be a sort
of counter-pressure in the other direction, towards the noblest: the
body must be lessened, reduced, that the veritable man may show forth,
the man behind the appearances.
Let the earth-bound man be handsome and powerful and rich, and
so apt to this world that he may rule the entire human race: still
there can be no envying him, the fool of such lures. Perhaps such
splendours could not, from the beginning even, have gathered to the
Sage; but if it should happen so, he of his own action will lower
his state, if he has any care for his true life; the tyranny of the
body he will work down or wear away by inattention to its claims;
the rulership he will lay aside. While he will safeguard his bodily
health, he will not wish to be wholly untried in sickness, still
less never to feel pain: if such troubles should not come to him of
themselves, he will wish to know them, during youth at least: in old
age, it is true, he will desire neither pains nor pleasures to
hamper him; he will desire nothing of this world, pleasant or painful;
his one desire will be to know nothing of the body. If he should
meet with pain he will pit against it the powers he holds to meet
it; but pleasure and health and ease of life will not mean any
increase of happiness to him nor will their contraries destroy or
lessen it.
When in the one subject, a positive can add nothing, how can the
negative take away?
15. But suppose two wise men, one of them possessing all that is
supposed to be naturally welcome, while the other meets only with
the very reverse: do we assert that they have an equal happiness?
We do, if they are equally wise.
What though the one be favoured in body and in all else that
does not help towards wisdom, still less towards virtue, towards the
vision of the noblest, towards being the highest, what does all that
amount to? The man commanding all such practical advantages cannot
flatter himself that he is more truly happy than the man without them:
the utmost profusion of such boons would not help even to make a
flute-player.
We discuss the happy man after our own feebleness; we count
alarming and grave what his felicity takes lightly: he would be
neither wise nor in the state of happiness if he had not quitted all
trifling with such things and become as it were another being,
having confidence in his own nature, faith that evil can never touch
him. In such a spirit he can be fearless through and through; where
there is dread, there is not perfect virtue; the man is some sort of a
half-thing.
As for any involuntary fear rising in him and taking the judgement
by surprise, while his thoughts perhaps are elsewhere, the Sage will
attack it and drive it out; he will, so to speak, calm the refractory
child within him, whether by reason or by menace, but without passion,
as an infant might feel itself rebuked by a glance of severity.
This does not make the Sage unfriendly or harsh: it is to
himself and in his own great concern that he is the Sage: giving
freely to his intimates of all he has to give, he will be the best
of friends by his very union with the Intellectual-Principle.
16. Those that refuse to place the Sage aloft in the
Intellectual Realm but drag him down to the accidental, dreading
accident for him, have substituted for the Sage we have in mind
another person altogether; they offer us a tolerable sort of man and
they assign to him a life of mingled good and ill, a case, after
all, not easy to conceive. But admitting the possibility of such a
mixed state, it could not be deserved to be called a life of
happiness; it misses the Great, both in the dignity of Wisdom and in
the integrity of Good. The life of true happiness is not a thing of
mixture. And Plato rightly taught that he who is to be wise and to
possess happiness draws his good from the Supreme, fixing his gaze
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