Taking for granted that human happiness is founded upon wisdom and virtue we shall treat of these two points in order as they lie: and, first, of wisdom; not in the latitude of its various operations but as it has only a regard to good life, and the happiness of mankind.
We'll assume that human happiness comes from wisdom and virtue. We'll discuss these two points in order, starting with wisdom. We won't cover all the different ways wisdom works, but only how it relates to living a good life and human happiness.
Wisdom is a right understanding, a faculty of discerning good from evil; what is to be chosen, and what rejected; a judgment grounded upon the value of things, and not the common opinion of them; an equality of force, and a strength of resolution. It sets a watch over our words and deeds, it takes us up with the contemplation of the works of nature, and makes us invincible by either good or evil fortune. It is large and spacious, and requires a great deal of room to work in; it ransacks heaven and earth; it has for its object things past and to come, transitory and eternal. It examines all the circumstances of time; “what it is, when it began, and how long it will continue: and so for the mind; whence it came; what it is; when it begins; how long it lasts; whether or not it passes from one form to another, or serves only one and wanders when it leaves us; whether it abides in a state of separation, and what the action of it; what use it makes of its liberty; whether or not it retains the memory of things past, and comes to the knowledge of itself.” It is the habit of a perfect mind, and the perfection of humanity, raised as high as Nature can carry it. It differs from philosophy, as avarice and money; the one desires, and the other is desired; the one is the effect and the reward of the other. To be wise is the use of wisdom, as seeing is the use of eyes, and well-speaking the use of eloquence. He that is perfectly wise is perfectly happy; nay, the very beginning of wisdom makes life easy to us. Neither is it enough to know this, unless we print it in our minds by daily meditation, and so bring a good-will to a good habit. And we must practice what we preach: for philosophy is not a subject for popular ostentation; nor does it rest in words, but in things. It is not an entertainment taken up for delight, or to give a taste to our leisure; but it fashions the mind, governs our actions, tells us what we are to do, and what not. It sits at the helm, and guides us through all hazards; nay, we cannot be safe without it, for every hour gives us occasion to make use of it. It informs us in all duties of life, piety to our parents, faith to our friends, charity to the miserable, judgment in counsel; it gives us peace by fearing nothing, and riches by coveting nothing.
Wisdom is a right understanding. It is the power to tell good from evil, what to choose and what to reject. It is a judgment based on the true value of things, not on the common opinion of them. It is an evenness of strength and a firmness of resolution. It keeps watch over our words and deeds. It absorbs us in contemplating the works of nature. It makes us unconquerable by either good or bad fortune. It is large and spacious and needs a great deal of room to work in. It searches heaven and earth. It takes as its subject things past and to come, passing and eternal. It examines all the circumstances of time, “what it is, when it began, and how long it will last. And the same for the mind. Where did it come from? What is it? When does it begin? How long does it last? Does it pass from one form to another, or serve only one form and wander once it leaves us? Does it remain in a separate state, and what does it do there? What use does it make of its freedom? Does it keep the memory of past things, and come to know itself?” Wisdom is the habit of a perfect mind, and the perfection of humanity, raised as high as Nature can carry it. It differs from philosophy as avarice differs from money. The one desires, and the other is desired. The one is the effect and the reward of the other. To be wise is the use of wisdom, as seeing is the use of the eyes and speaking well is the use of eloquence. He who is perfectly wise is perfectly happy. Indeed, the very beginning of wisdom makes life easy for us. Yet it is not enough to know this unless we print it on our minds by daily meditation, and so turn a good will into a good habit. And we must practice what we preach. For philosophy is not a subject for public display. It does not rest in words, but in things. It is not an entertainment taken up for pleasure, or to give some flavor to our leisure. It shapes the mind, governs our actions, and tells us what to do and what not to do. It sits at the helm and guides us through all dangers. Indeed, we cannot be safe without it, for every hour gives us occasion to use it. It teaches us all the duties of life: devotion to our parents, faithfulness to our friends, charity to the wretched, and judgment in giving counsel. It gives us peace by fearing nothing, and riches by craving nothing.
There is no condition of life that excludes a wise man from discharging his duty. If his fortune be good, he tempers it; if bad, he masters it; if he has an estate, he will exercise his virtue in plenty; if none, in poverty: if he cannot do it in his country, he will do it in banishment; if he has no command, he will do the office of a common soldier. Some people have the skill of reclaiming the fiercest of beasts; they will make a lion embrace his keeper, a tiger kiss him, and an elephant kneel to him. This is the case of a wise man in the extremest difficulties; let them be never so terrible in themselves, when they come to him once, they are perfectly tame. They that ascribe the invention of tillage, architecture, navigation, etc., to wise men, may perchance be in the right, that they were invented by wise men, as wise men; for wisdom does not teach our fingers, but our minds: fiddling and dancing, arms and fortifications, were the works of luxury and discord; but wisdom instructs us in the way of nature, and in the arts of unity and concord, not in the instruments, but in the government of life; not to make us live only, but to live happily. She teaches us what things are good, what evil, and what only appear so; and to distinguish betwixt true greatness and tumor. She clears our minds of dross and vanity; she raises up our thoughts to heaven, and carries them down to hell: she discourses of the nature of the soul, the powers and faculties of it; the first principles of things; the order of Providence: she exalts us from things corporeal to things incorporeal, and retrieves the truth of all: she searches nature, gives laws to life; and tells us, “That it is not enough to God, unless we obey him:” she looks upon all accidents as acts of Providence: sets a true value upon things; delivers us from false opinions, and condemns all pleasures that are attended with repentance. She allows nothing to be good that will not be so forever; no man to be happy but that needs no other happiness than what he has within himself. This is the felicity of human life; a felicity that can neither be corrupted nor extinguished: it inquires into the nature of the heavens, the influence of the stars; how far they operate upon our minds and bodies: which thoughts, though they do not form our manners, they do yet raise and dispose us for glorious things.
No condition of life keeps a wise man from doing his duty. If his fortune is good, he tempers it. If it is bad, he masters it. If he has an estate, he will practice his virtue in plenty. If he has none, he will practice it in poverty. If he cannot do it in his own country, he will do it in exile. If he has no command, he will do the duty of a common soldier. Some people have the skill to tame the fiercest beasts. They can make a lion embrace his keeper, a tiger kiss him, and an elephant kneel to him. So it is with a wise man in the greatest difficulties. However terrible they are in themselves, once they come to him, they are perfectly tame. Those who credit wise men with inventing farming, building, sailing, and the like may perhaps be right that wise men invented them, as wise men. For wisdom does not teach our fingers, but our minds. Fiddling and dancing, arms and fortifications, were the works of luxury and discord. But wisdom teaches us the way of nature and the arts of unity and harmony. She teaches not the instruments of life but the government of it, and not merely how to live, but how to live happily. She teaches us what things are good, what are evil, and what only seem so. She teaches us to tell true greatness from empty swelling. She clears our minds of dross and vanity. She raises our thoughts to heaven and carries them down to hell. She discusses the nature of the soul and its powers and faculties, the first principles of things, and the order of Providence. She lifts us from bodily things to things without bodies, and recovers the truth of all. She searches nature and gives laws to life. And she tells us, “That it is not enough to know God, unless we obey him.” She looks on all accidents as acts of Providence. She sets a true value on things, frees us from false opinions, and condemns all pleasures that bring repentance after them. She allows nothing to be good that will not be good forever. She allows no man to be happy except one who needs no other happiness than what he has within himself. This is the happiness of human life, a happiness that can be neither corrupted nor put out. She also inquires into the nature of the heavens and the influence of the stars, and how far they act on our minds and bodies. These thoughts do not form our character, yet they raise us up and prepare us for glorious things.
It is agreed upon all hands that “right reason is the perfection of human nature,” and wisdom only the dictate of it. The greatness that arises from it is solid and unmovable, the resolutions of wisdom being free, absolute and constant; whereas folly is never long pleased with the same thing, but still shifting of counsels and sick of itself. There can be no happiness without constancy and prudence, for a wise man is to write without a blot, and what he likes once he approves for ever. He admits of nothing that is either evil or slippery, but marches without staggering or stumbling, and is never surprised; he lives always true and steady to himself, and whatsoever befalls him, this great artificer of both fortunes turns to advantage; he that demurs and hesitates is not yet composed; but wheresoever virtue interposes upon the main, there must be concord and consent in the parts; for all virtues are in agreement, as well as all vices are at variance. A wise man, in what condition soever he is will be still happy, for he subjects all things to himself, because he submits himself to reason, and governs his actions by council, not by passion.
Everyone agrees that "right reason is the perfection of human nature," and wisdom is simply what reason tells us to do. The greatness that comes from wisdom is solid and unshakeable. Wise decisions are free, absolute, and constant. Foolishness, on the other hand, is never satisfied with the same thing for long. It keeps changing direction and grows sick of itself. There can be no happiness without consistency and good judgment. A wise person writes without making mistakes. What he approves of once, he approves of forever. He accepts nothing that is either evil or unreliable. Instead, he moves forward without wavering or stumbling, and nothing catches him off guard. He always stays true and steady to himself. Whatever happens to him, this master of both good and bad fortune turns it to his advantage. Someone who hesitates and wavers is not yet settled in his mind. But wherever virtue takes the lead, there must be harmony and agreement in all the parts. All virtues work together, just as all vices conflict with each other. A wise person will be happy no matter what condition he finds himself in. He makes all things serve him because he serves reason. He governs his actions through careful thought, not through emotion.
He is not moved with the utmost violence of fortune, nor with the extremities of fire and sword; whereas a fool is afraid of his own shadow, and surprised at ill accidents, as if they were all levelled at him. He does nothing unwillingly, for whatever he finds necessary, he makes it his choice. He propounds to himself the certain scope and end of human life: he follows that which conduces to it, and avoids that which hinders it. He is content with his lot whatever it be, without wishing what he has not, though, of the two, he had rather abound than want. The great business of his life like that of nature, is performed without tumult or noise. He neither fears danger or provokes it, but it is his caution, not any want of courage—for captivity, wounds and chains, he only looks upon as false and lymphatic terrors. He does not pretend to go through with whatever he undertakes, but to do that well which he does. Arts are but the servants—wisdom commands—and where the matter fails it is none of the workman’s fault. He is cautelous in doubtful cases, in prosperity temperate, and resolute in adversity, still making the best of every condition and improving all occasions to make them serviceable to his fate. Some accidents there are, which I confess may affect him, but not overthrow him, as bodily pains, loss of children and friends, the ruin and desolation of a man’s country. One must be made of stone or iron, not to be sensible of these calamities; and, beside, it were no virtue to bear them, if a body did not feel them.
He is not moved by the utmost violence of fortune, nor by the extremes of fire and sword. A fool, by contrast, is afraid of his own shadow and startled by bad accidents, as if they were all aimed at him. The wise man does nothing unwillingly, for whatever he finds necessary, he makes his choice. He sets before himself the fixed aim and end of human life. He follows what leads to it and avoids what hinders it. He is content with his lot, whatever it is, without wishing for what he does not have. Yet of the two, he would rather have plenty than want. The great business of his life, like that of nature, is carried out without tumult or noise. He neither fears danger nor provokes it. This is his caution, not any lack of courage, for he looks on captivity, wounds, and chains only as false and frenzied terrors. He does not claim he will carry through whatever he undertakes, only that he will do well what he does. The arts are only servants, and wisdom commands. Where the material fails, it is not the workman’s fault. He is cautious in doubtful cases, temperate in prosperity, and resolute in adversity. He always makes the best of every condition and turns every occasion to serve his fate. Some accidents, I confess, may affect him, but not overthrow him. Such are bodily pain, the loss of children and friends, and the ruin and desolation of one’s country. A man would have to be made of stone or iron not to feel these calamities. Besides, it would be no virtue to bear them if one did not feel them.
There are three degrees of proficients in the school of wisdom. The first are those that come within sight of it, but not up to it—they have learned what they ought to do, but they have not put their knowledge in practice—they are past the hazard of a relapse, but they have still the grudges of a disease, though they are out of the danger of it. By a disease I do understand an obstinacy in evil, or an ill habit, that makes us over eager upon things which are either not much to be desired, or not at all. A second sort are those that have subjected their appetites for a season, but are yet in fear of falling back. A third sort are those that are clear of many vices but not of all. They are not covetous, but perhaps they are choleric—nor lustful, but perchance ambitious; they are firm enough in some cases but weak enough in others: there are many that despise death and yet shrink at pain. There are diversities in wise men, but no inequalities—one is more affable, another more ready, a third a better speaker; but the felicity of them all is equal. It is in this as in heavenly bodies, there is a certain state in greatness.
There are three levels of students in the school of wisdom. The first are those who can see wisdom but haven't reached it yet. They have learned what they should do, but they haven't put their knowledge into practice. They are past the risk of falling back into old ways, but they still carry the lingering effects of their former condition, even though they're no longer in danger from it. By a disease I mean stubbornness in doing wrong, or a bad habit that makes us too eager for things that aren't worth wanting, or shouldn't be wanted at all. The second group includes those who have controlled their desires for a while, but still fear they might slip back. The third group has overcome many vices but not all of them. They aren't greedy, but they might be quick to anger. They aren't lustful, but they could be ambitious. They are strong in some areas but weak in others. Many people can face death bravely yet still flinch at pain. There are differences among wise people, but no inequalities. One might be more friendly, another more quick-thinking, a third a better speaker. But their happiness is equal. It's like the heavenly bodies. There is a certain standard of greatness.
In civil and domestic affairs, a wise man may stand in need of counsel, as of a physician, an advocate, a solicitor; but in greater matters, the blessing of wise men rests in the joy they take in the communication of their virtues. If there were nothing else in it, a man would apply himself to wisdom, because it settles him in a perfect tranquillity of mind.
In civil and household affairs, a wise man may need advice, as from a physician, an advocate, or a solicitor. But in greater matters, the blessing of wise men lies in the joy they take in sharing their virtues. Even if there were nothing else in it, a man would devote himself to wisdom, because it settles him in perfect peace of mind.