Eukolia
εὐκολία (eukolia)
The serene temperament, the easygoing mood—by contrast with *dyskolia* (δυσκολία), the difficult mood. Schopenhauer borrows these two words from Plato to name a fundamental trait of sensibility: the way a being endures success and failure, before anything else happens to them. The *eukolos* rejoices in a single stroke of good fortune, while the *dyskolos* grows bitter over a single failure despite nine successes. This disposition stems from one’s native constitution, rooted in health. It must be distinguished from <em>ataraxia</em>, achieved through the discipline of judgment: *eukolia* is not an exercise but a gift of temperament, a stroke of birthright luck.
C’est cette même diversité que Platon désigne par les mots de « δυσκολος » (d’humeur difficile) et « ευκολος » (d’humeur facile).
Eukolia, from eu- (good) and kolon, what flows naturally—an easy disposition; its opposite is dyskolia, the surly temper. Schopenhauer borrows the pair from Plato to describe what he considers a more decisive fact than any event: each person’s inherent susceptibility to pleasant and unpleasant impressions. Two men encounter the same fate; one laughs it off, the other despairs. The difference lies not in the fate—it lies in the temperament that receives it.
From this, he derives an arithmetic of character. Given equal odds, the dyskolos takes no joy in success but gnaws at failure; even if he succeeds nine times out of ten, he fixates on the tenth. The eukolos, by contrast, finds solace and delight in a single triumph amid setbacks. Taken to extremes, when coupled with bodily affliction, dyskolia can tip into life’s loathing; eukolia, meanwhile, feeds on itself.
For Schopenhauer, this places a cheerful disposition among subjective goods—“a noble character, a capable mind, a cheerful temper, a well-ordered body”—which he deems “the supreme and most vital goods for our happiness,” far above what we possess or how we appear to others. Gaiety is “the ready cash of happiness”; the rest is mere promissory note.
Here it parts ways with ataraxia. The Stoic or Epicurean calm is earned: it is the fruit of disciplined judgment, of work on one’s perceptions. Eukolia cannot be cultivated—you either have it or you don’t, along with the health that sustains it. One may nurture felicity through practice; eukolia, however, is the hand temperament has already dealt, before any wisdom.