The Death of Marcus Aurelius

The Death of Marcus Aurelius

Wednesday, February 21, 2018

Seneca, On the Happy Life 62: A Trial of Strength



Behold! From that prison of his, which by entering he cleansed from shame and rendered more honorable than any senate house, Socrates addresses you, saying:

“What is this madness of yours? What is this disposition, at war alike with gods and men, which leads you to defame virtue and to outrage holiness with malicious accusations? Praise good men, if you are able. If not, pass them by in silence. If indeed you take pleasure in this offensive abusiveness, fall foul of one another, for when you rave against Heaven, I do not say that you commit sacrilege, but you waste your time.

“I once afforded Aristophanes with the subject of a jest, and since then all the crew of comic poets have made me a mark for their venomous wit. My virtue has been made to shine more brightly by the very blows which have been aimed at it, for it is to its advantage to be brought before the public and exposed to temptation, nor do any people understand its greatness more than those who by their assaults have made trial of its strength.

“The hardness of flint is known to none so well as to those who strike it. I offer myself to all attacks, like some lonely rock in a shallow sea, which the waves never cease to beat upon from whatever quarter they may come, but which they cannot thereby move from its place, nor yet wear away, for however many years they may unceasingly dash against it.

“Leap upon me, rush upon me, I will overcome you by enduring your onset. Whatever strikes against that which is firm and unconquerable merely injures itself by its own violence. Therefore, seek some soft and yielding object to pierce with your darts.” . . .

—Seneca the Younger, On the happy life, Chapter 27 (tr Stewart)

I have often felt very weak, because I have never been terribly good at defeating others, either in mind or in body. I am quite wrong to think this, however, since having power over others is hardly strength at all. Strength is actually in having power over oneself.

I once read a newspaper article about someone I had known in my younger days, who was quoted as saying: “I pursue every opportunity, and I take what I want.” This saddened me, because I expected better. Success is not in taking what I want, but in wanting to give so I can be better. Conquest is hardly the pursuit of a noble opportunity.

My feelings have always bruised far too easily, so I also thought I would not even be any good at ruling myself. My mistake was that I assumed being strong required hardening my emotions, or disposing of them entirely. I have seen many people I cared for do precisely that, and they became convinced they were strong because they were now cold and heartless.

No, it isn’t about not feeling, or not caring. It isn’t about stifling my emotions, but rather about allowing my reason to make the best use of those emotions. Socrates was attacked and abused over and over, and I have no doubt that he must have felt pain. What he managed to do was to take the offense, and to transform the attempt to harm him into a means for building his virtue.

I will only succumb to the feelings of being rejected or dismissed if I allow them to rule me. Throw an obstacle in the way of my judgment and choice, and yes, it will cause be pain, but it need not cause me harm. Like a muscle that is strengthened through repeated exercise, you only give me the chance to become stronger in my convictions. By doing wrong, you give me more opportunity to do right. If you must tempt me to be angry, or to strike back in return, I can decide all the more to love instead of hate. You have made yourself weaker, and helped me to be stronger, by foolishly trying to destroy me.

Can a bully steal my lunch money, can a friend abandon me, can a lawyer leave me penniless, and can a tyrant take my life? Of course, but those aren’t the things that matter. Socrates was not weak in prison because he lost his case, but rather he was strong in prison because his spirit was unconquerable. 

Written in 4/2010

Image: a site in Athens traditionally known as "The Prison of Socrates"



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