Epictetus, The Handbook 26: Getting What is Mine

. . . ‘Get them then,' says he, 'that we may have them.'

If I can get them and keep my self-respect, honor, magnanimity, show the way and I will get them. But if you call on me to lose the good things that are mine, in order that you may win things that are not good, look how unfair and thoughtless you are.

And which do you really prefer? Money, or a faithful, modest friend? Therefore help me rather to keep these qualities, and do not expect from me actions which will make me lose them.

'But my country,' says he, 'will lack assistance, so far as lies in me.’

Once more I ask, what assistance do you mean? It will not owe colonnades or baths to you. What of that? It does not owe shoes to the blacksmith or arms to the shoemaker; it is sufficient if each man fulfills his own function. Would you do it no good if you secured to it another faithful and modest citizen?

'Yes.’

Well, then, you would not be useless to it.

'What place then shall I have in the city?'

Whatever place you can hold while you keep your character for honor and self-respect. But if you are going to lose these qualities in trying to benefit your city, what benefit, I ask, would you have done for her when you attain to the perfection of being lost to shame and honor?

—Epictetus, The Handbook, Chapter 24 (tr Matheson)

Epictetus has just told us that we don’t have wealth and influence within our power. What is our response? Well, let’s find a way to go and get them within our power.

Perhaps we misunderstood. It isn’t that we don’t have them right now, it’s that we can never have them. To think that I can ever become the master of my circumstances, to possess things other than myself, is one of those big lies the world tells us from day one. As soon as I desire them, I do not possess them, but I have permitted them to possess me.

Linked closely to that lie is another one, that it is possible for me to maintain my character and pursue a life dedicated at the same time to wealth, pleasure, and power. The measure of defining myself by the excellence of my thoughts and deeds is diametrically opposed to the measure of defining myself by what happens to me. A man will give anything for what he loves the most, and if he loves money and influence, he will surely sacrifice his virtue for it.

No one can serve two masters; for either he will hate the one and love the other, or he will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and mammon.

A virtuous grasping man is about as possible as a faithful adulterer, or a fair thief, or an honest flatterer.

I have long appreciated Epictetus’ question: which would I prefer, wealth or a faithful friend? I can estimate both myself and others quite well by this standard. I have known many people who would choose the wealth, though they might not be very honest in admitting it, and I have known many people who would say they would like both, please.

The first person has chosen to dispose of his moral dignity, while the second is kidding himself. Both are the sorts of people best avoided, as hard experience has taught me.

Another way of asking the same question is simply to ask what someone would like to be. Notice how they understand those words will lead to very different sorts of answers. I knew a girl once, quite to my detriment, who told me that what she wanted most was to be a lawyer and a singer. Now that sounds perfectly harmless at first, but that was what she thought defined her, and she lived in a way that showed how she was beholden to externals. Another girl once told me she wanted to be the best friend she could be. I married her.

We might ask ourselves what makes a person be a benefit to society. Notice how often we are impressed by the rich and powerful, who often became rich and powerful precisely because of their greed and dishonesty, giving so freely of their bounty, and we say that they are pillars of the community. I, for one, prefer to admire the humble, honest man whose labors are so taken for granted. He is the real pillar of the community, not because he is rich in power or possessions, because but he is rich in virtue.

I have long lost track of the number of times I have heard people tell me that it is sometimes necessary to compromise integrity or justice in order to get things done. I have been told, for example, that it was necessary to tolerate a sex offender to save the reputation of the Church, or that it was acceptable to change a student-athlete’s grades for the good of the team and the school, or that a resume didn’t have to be totally honest as long as it got someone a job.

There are no victimless crimes, because at the very least a man has harmed himself when he acts poorly. As soon as a he has sold his character by acting unjustly, he no longer has anything of worth to give to anyone.

Written in 4/2007

Image: Evelyn De Morgan, The Worship of Mammon (1909)