The Few Real Goods: Treasures of the Ages
Posted by Andrew | Filed under A Farewell to Authority, Art, Breakfast in the Ruins, Commentary, General, Lost Geographies, Retrovision, The Destruction of History, Uncategorized
What follows arose from a morning reflection upon Ryan Holiday’s “The Stoic Journal” and “The Daily Stoic” for April 20th.
It has been difficult for me to return to the habit of writing, as my life in Korea has been rather chaotic over the last few years, but enforcing upon myself the semi-habit of writing a daily Stoic journal has, partly at least, rekindled the desire and pointed to the need, for the writer, of suitable “prompts”, which is the essential purpose of Ryan’s Journal: Pose a question to the reader, who then writes a response.
In truth, of course, some questions are difficult to answer in the moment, and sufficient perspective to frame a reasonable response may actually follow much later, in my experience, when something unexpected happens in your life and the idea suddenly crystallises into clarity in your mind. This happened to me again today.
One question which the Stoics dealt with was the real worth of things, bearing in mind that they were mortals, having a finite lifespan, living in times when death was a commonplace phenomenon, seen daily on the streets, at home and of course, for the Roman citizen, on many battlefields during the lifetime of a single individual. Therefore, given the desire of the ordinary mortal to acquire as much wealth as possible during one lifetime, the question arose as to whether increasing one’s personal fortune was an automatic guarantee of happiness, and the answer seemed to be a negative one.
This was not meant to be a remorseless statement of fact in the face of the inevitable; after all, what the Stoics were seeking was a more joyful and at the same time virtuous life. They simply observed that increasing wealth did not guarantee a life that was happier or more virtuous, and since financial wealth in those days was a material thing (precious metals, property), it was something that you could not take with you when you died (I need hardly point out that, having come close to mortality myself a couple of times in recent years, my mind often dwells on these things nowadays…). Many of them did indeed achieve (or inherit) sufficient wealth to understand that it could be a less-than-perfect experience, so they were in a good position to comment.
Noting that Ryan names wisdom, self-control, justice and courage as “virtues” (quoting from Marcus Aurelius) and that people will work hard all their lives to achieve it, and also that though desirable, “wealth” itself is not a “virtue”, one has to ask two questions:
1: If the acquisition of wealth is not a “virtue”, then what kind of “wealth” could be considered a “virtue”? What have past commentators had to say about this?
2: If wealth can be acquired by a life of hard work, what, then, is required to acquire wisdom, self-control, justice and courage? What kind of “work” or “study” is required to obtain these things?
Marcus Aurelius named these four latter as “things that are unquestionably good” – in other words, things which are undoubtedly beneficial to obtain. Financial “wealth” can be seen as being a more dubious “benefit” because it does not automatically guarantee happiness – it is, perhaps, a liability because those who do not have it always want to take it from you – including, of course, governments. However, in the civilisations that we have had, the value of money (which is more nominal or virtual than real nowadays) allows us to obtain at least the necessities that we need on a daily basis, such as food, clothing and utilities; a necessary evil, perhaps, but a useful means of value exchange.
Maybe we should take Marcus himself as an example. His times were very different from ours: he knew well that he was mortal (in his position, he probably had someone whispering “Memento mori!” in his ear several times each day) and understood better than anyone that he couldn’t take the wealth of the Roman Emperor with him when he passed on. In Marcus’s case, the inheritance that he bequeathed to posterity (in other words, ourselves) was not the gold and silver of Rome, but the philosophical wealth of his “Meditations”; the physical riches of Rome have been lost to time, but the wealth of Marcus’s (and other individuals’) thinking was preserved, and there is a lesson in this.
Realising, as I did today when I sat at my desk for the morning meditation, that the whole question related to the transitory nature of life and that material wealth (such as accumulated financial savings and other property) is therefore only a temporary pleasure at best, I was reminded of some hymns that we used to sing during morning assemblies at school in Leicester; in particular, I recalled a children’s song about natural treasures – experiential pleasures which we can only appreciate precisely because we are alive.
Therein lies the point that we are making here, which was the point that Ryan was trying to make: material wealth can only be enjoyed or appreciated while we live; hence, since we are mortal, material wealth is as fleeting and temporary as other living things, which have short lives and pass before us each year, according to the seasons.
I had some difficulty finding copies of that particular hymn, but what follows is taken from a *.jpg picture [1] and a simple PowerPoint file which you can download [2] (see “References” below). This was “Daisies Are Our Silver” by the English writer Jan Struther (Joyce Maxtone Graham, Joyce Placzek) [3], and I quote it here in full:
Daisies Are Our Silver [4]
Daisies are our silver,
Buttercups our gold:
This is all the treasure
We can have or hold.
Raindrops are our diamonds
And the morning dew;
While for shining sapphires
We’ve the speedwell blue. [3]
These shall be our emeralds,
Leaves so new and green;
Roses make the reddest
Rubies ever seen.
God, who gave these treasures
To your children small,
Teach us how to love them
And grow like them all.
Make us bright as silver,
Make us good as gold;
Warm as summer roses
Let our hearts unfold.
Gay as leaves in April,
Clear as drops of dew –
God, who made the speedwell,
Keep us true to you.
Though intended for children rather than adults, this has always been one of the most powerful memento mori that I have ever known – powerful enough for me to remember throughout my whole life. I will return to the works of Struther again in the future.
This is, however, one of so many cultural reminders that the works we undertake during our lifetimes are the things by which we are remembered: and that the achievement of wisdom, self-control, justice and courage originate in our Socratic reflection upon our own lives and experiences, putting them into perspective, adding them to our existing experiential schemata and, perhaps, using that knowledge to create things that naturally outlast our own existence. This work, this study in search of the virtuous, is lifelong, and it only ends when we end.
It is not without reason that we are able to wonder at the great works of the past – pyramids, bridges, ancient Roman and Greek buildings, paintings and sculptures, and of course, Homer and Shakespeare. Our bodies are only temporary shells which we inhabit, by means of which these things are realised and become part of the public inheritance: the treasures of the ages.
References
[1] https://www.pinterest.com/pin/83879611794491343/
[2] https://www.slideserve.com/yli/daisies-are-our-silver-buttercups-our-gold-this-is-all-the-treasure-we-can-have-or-hold-powerpoint-ppt-presentation
[3] Speedwell: Or Veronica, perennial flowering plants with small blue flowers, e.g. Veronica spicata; see https://www.woodlands.co.uk/blog/woodland-flowers/blue-flowers/speedwells/
[4] There is a collection of Struther’s works available to read at https://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/struther/struther.html
