On Constancy 6

. . . "A man must keep this in mind; and when he is called to any such difficulty, he should know that the time is come for showing if he has been instructed. For he who is come into a difficulty is like a young man from a school who has practiced the resolution of syllogisms; and if any person proposes to him an easy syllogism, he says, 'Rather propose to me a syllogism which is skillfully complicated that I may exercise myself on it.'

"Even athletes are dissatisfied with slight young men, and say 'he cannot lift me.' 'This is a youth of noble disposition.'

"But when the time of trial is come, one of you must weep and say, 'I wish that I had learned more.' A little more of what? If you did not learn these things in order to show them in practice, why did you learn them?

"I think that there is some one among you who are sitting here, who is suffering like a woman in labor, and saying, 'Oh, that such a difficulty does not present itself to me as that which has come to this man; oh, that I should be wasting my life in a corner, when I might be crowned at Olympia. When will any one announce to me such a contest?'

"Such ought to be the disposition of all of you. Even among the gladiators of Caesar there are some who complain grievously that they are not brought forward and matched, and they offer up prayers to God and address themselves to their superintendents entreating that they might fight.

"And will no one among you show himself such? I would willingly take a voyage for this purpose and see what my athlete is doing, how he is studying his subject. 'I do not choose such a subject,' he says. Why, is it in your power to take what subject you choose? There has been given to you such a body as you have, such parents, such brethren, such a country, such a place in your country: then you come to me and say, 'Change my subject.' Have you not abilities which enable you to manage the subject which has been given to you?

"'It is your business to propose; it is mine to exercise myself well.' However, you do not say so, but you say, 'Do not propose to me such a tropic, but such: do not urge against me such an objection, but such.'

"There will be a time, perhaps, when tragic actors will suppose that they are masks and buskins and the long cloak. I say, these things, man, are your material and subject? Utter something that we may know whether you are a tragic actor or a buffoon; for both of you have all the rest in common. If any one then should take away the tragic actor's buskins and his mask, and introduce him on the stage as a phantom, is the tragic actor lost, or does he still remain? If he has voice, he still remains." . . .

--Epictetus, Discourses 1.29 (tr Long)
 

 The practice of constancy proceeds from the ability and willingness to confront difficulty, and this in turn proceeds only from a correct understanding of the human good. If I define myself by the content of my choices and actions, I am capable of constancy. If I define myself by the conditions of all the things around me, constancy becomes impossible. I cannot say that I am measured only by my character, while also insisting that my character is determined by the waxing and waning of fortune.

Such moral courage should not be confused with the drive to conquer, to consume, or to possess. That is nothing but another form of dependence upon externals.

Such moral courage should also not be confused with the cold and heartless satisfaction of exercising brute strength. We should not equate mere toughness with the conviction of character.

A sign that constancy is lacking is when we wish to bargain with our circumstances. Instead of freely accepting the challenges life has given us, we wish to change the terms of the challenge, so as to better suit our preferences. I have found myself guilty of this many times. If only this hadn't happened, or I had never met this person, or I had made a different decision in the past, I would be able to bear the challenge I am facing. It would then, of course, hardly be a challenge, because it would be a new circumstance of my own devising.

No, I must accept what is presented to me, not begrudgingly, but with the joy and confidence of someone who rests upon his own convictions.

Children will sometimes have the habit of changing the rules of a game even as it is being played, so as to bring them to an easier victory. Yet this is hardly a victory, because I have not risen to the occasion, but lowered the occasion to suit me.

If I remove all the trappings, all the appearances, all the props and costumes, and only I remain, can I still be said to be truly constant?
 

Written in 4/1999

Image: Cesare Dandini,  Personification of Constancy, c. 1634