Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 4.10

“Do you see then in what a slough crimes are involved, and with what glory honesty shines forth? It is plain from this that reward is never lacking to good deeds, nor punishment to crime.

“We may justly say that the reward of every act that is performed is the object for which it is performed. For instance, on the racecourse the crown for which the runner strives is his reward. But we have shown that happiness is the identical good for the sake of which all actions are performed.

“Therefore the absolute good is the reward put before all human actions. But good men cannot be deprived of this. And further, a man who lacks good cannot justly be described as a good man; wherefore we may say that good habits never miss their rewards. Let the wicked rage never so wildly, the wise man's crown shall never fail nor wither.

“And the wickedness of bad men can never take away from good men the glory that belongs to them. Whereas if a good man rejoiced in a glory that he received from outside, then could another, or even he, maybe, who granted it, carry it away. But since honesty grants to every good man its own rewards, he will only lack his reward when he ceases to be good.

“And lastly, since every reward is sought for the reason that it is held to be good, who shall say that the man, who possesses goodness, does not receive his reward? And what reward is this? Surely the fairest and greatest of all.”

—from Book 4, Prose 3

One of my most deeply ingrained bad habits, one that is so worked into my responses that I barely notice it, is what I can only call the expectation of further reward. I will consciously consider what the right thing to do is, the action that will respect both my own dignity and the dignity of others, and I will tell myself that I know good should be done simply because it is good. I feel certain, as Lady Philosophy says to me, that virtue is its own reward, and that vice is its own punishment.

I have, over the years, even managed to start enjoying a just or a kind deed, only from an awareness of its moral worth. It is a deeply fulfilling satisfaction when felt sincerely, free of pride or ostentation, and I should be able to find rest and peace in it.

And then, as if by some unspoken assumption, I find myself looking for more. Where is that recognition I deserve? How long until I get some praise to make me feel special? When will a wonderful new set of gratifying circumstances fall into my lap as a well-earned prize? I begin to make further demands of Providence, and by asking for such compensation I have already thrown away whatever decency may have been in my actions to begin with.

What I am so foolishly forgetting is that my merit is in what I do, not in what happens to me, and so my confusion goes to the very heart of how I think about my own human nature. The Consolation has been reminding me, time and time again, that happiness is itself the practice of virtue, precisely because it is the completion of my good, not that of anyone or anything else.

If someone else pats me on the back or throws money my way, does that really say anything about me, or add anything to who I am? Or if such things are withheld from me, am I any less than I was before? I have clearly not transformed my values as deeply as I would like to think, if I am still hoping to receive more than what is already completely mine.

It is certainly not an excuse, but I can only think of how long I have been hearing about fortune being some sort of reward for good character. Well, then I must redouble my efforts, and become all the more conscious of my motives.

If I am not content with my virtue as an end in itself, but make it a means for some end of fortune, then I will be quite ready to compromise my virtue for that higher goal. The good man will give up money for his integrity, but the wicked man will give up his integrity for money.

If I worry about losing my happiness, then I do not rightly understand its source and measure. I cannot lose it, any more than I can cease to be myself, because it is the sum of my own thoughts and deeds. Only I determine if I will keep it or throw it away.

If I become jealous of rich, and powerful, and popular folks, thinking that they have taken away something that I deserve, I need only remember that such things are not worthy of envy at all, since they are not human goods. If I look inside a man’s soul, whether rich or poor, I will see what truly matters.

I wonder, if I were running a race, what would be most important to me? Would it be the sparkling crown at the end, and the thunderous roar of the crowd, and the honor of having my name in all the record books?

Or might the reward of my own excellence be more than enough, of having raced at my absolute best, regardless of what trinkets I receive, or who notices it, or if it is ever a part of history?

I see more and more that the difference between these two attitudes reflects the difference between the miserable man and the happy man. 

Written in 11/2015

The Art of Peace 43

The purpose of training is to tighten up the slack, toughen the body, and polish the spirit. 

Sayings of Heraclitus 17

The many do not take heed of such things as those they meet with, nor do they mark them when they are taught, though they think they do. 

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 2.4

Let us now consider in a general way how it may be attained: then you may apply as much as you choose of the universal remedy to your own case. Meanwhile we must drag to light the entire disease, and then each one will recognize his own part of it.

At the same time you will understand how much less you suffer by your self-depreciation than those who are bound by some showy declaration that they have made, and are oppressed by some grand title of honor, so that shame rather than their own free will forces them to keep up the pretense.

We will all approach it in our own way, and we will all express it in our own manner, but peace of mind is that fundamental need we all share. Everything else in our lives will depend upon the order and balance within us, as much as we may be drawn away by the lure of things outside us. There is absolutely nothing in this world that can offer me happiness, if I have not first and foremost come to peace with myself.

Some of us struggle with achieving this goal more than others, for we all possess different dispositions, and we all face different circumstances. Some may have a discouraging day, and need a bit of friendly encouragement. Others may confront pain that seems unbearable, and will receive no comfort at all when they are simply told to tough it out. Still, whatever the degree of our separation from happiness, we will all find ourselves at different places along the very same path.

I may worry that I am failing, and I may be tempted to give up hope, yet I must remember that my awareness of my own weakness is itself a sign of progress. At the very least, I know that something is missing, and I know that there is something I must do.

This is far better than having lied to others, and having lied to myself, over and over, to the point where I actually come to believe my own lies. I convince myself that I am always doing it right. In making myself appear grand, I have forgotten that an appearance is never a substitute for the reality. Faking it is not making it.

If I insist how decent and thoughtful I am, and I bask in the praise of others, and I graciously receive all the rewards that are supposed to come with success, I have now trapped myself in my own vanity. How can I possibly escape without looking bad, which is what I have come to fear the most?

No, I should be glad to admit to my faults and my doubts, both to others and to myself. I am not yet a good man, but I would like more than anything to become one. For all of my struggles, I can still have the advantage of honest self-reflection; from this can follow realization, improvement, and growth. No good will come from only pretending I am a good man, while being terrified that the whole illusion will somehow collapse.

In my teaching, I often notice how students doing their best can become quite worried that they could be doing better, while those doing their worst can remain rather proud of their failures. Doubt is not necessarily a bad thing, and confidence is not necessarily a good thing. That line between only seeming and actually being will make all the difference. 

Written in 5/2011

Dhammapada 69

As long as the evil deed done does not bear fruit, the fool thinks it is like honey; but when it ripens, then the fool suffers grief. 

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 3.5

Well then, so much for self-control. As for justice, would not the woman who studies philosophy be just, would she not be a blameless life-partner, would she not be a sympathetic helpmate, would she not be an untiring defender of husband and children, and would she not be entirely free of greed and arrogance?

And who better than the woman trained in philosophy— and she certainly of necessity if she has really acquired philosophy —would be disposed to look upon doing a wrong as worse than suffering one (as much worse as it is the baser), and to regard being worsted as better than gaining an unjust advantage? Moreover, who better than she would love her children more than life itself? What woman would be more just than such a one?

Neither men nor women can be temperate without being guided by wisdom, and this will in turn be true of all the virtues. Philosophy, then, as the very means by which we can understand the true from the false and the right from the wrong, will be a foundation for the life well lived.

It is not to be reserved only for some, but it is made for everyone. It is not the privilege of the few, but it is the responsibility of the many. It is not just a luxury, but it is a necessity. Rich and poor, young and old, men and women are all called to philosophy, simply by being human.

Justice is as universal a virtue as temperance, and as the virtue that must inform all social relations, it will determine the very structure of the family and the community.

How should husbands and wives, parents and children, friends and neighbors, show the proper respect for one another? Scholars can write as many profound books about justice as they wish, though they will be of little use if none of us can actually practice any of it.

We often like to speak of justice in terms of getting what we believe is rightfully ours, as a defense of what is owed to us, but I am pleased to see how Musonius Rufus follows a slightly different path.

As he describes the woman who is just, he says that she is blameless, sympathetic, and a defender of her family. This becomes possible because she is neither greedy nor arrogant, because she does not first think of what she deserves from others, but of what others deserve from her. Justice grows out of the giving, not out of the receiving. Our job is to rule our own actions, not those of others.

And so I cannot help but think immediately of the women I have known in my own life who lived in precisely this way, firm and confident in their own character, regardless of all the posing and posturing of other people around them.

Like any of us, they were grateful to be appreciated and praised, but that was never why they did what they did. They did what they did because they loved others, and they found their own worth in the fullest expression of that love.

Better to suffer a wrong than to ever commit a wrong, better to bear unfairness from others than to ever be unfair oneself. Those who build their lives around a sense of entitlement will not understand this, even as the women who raised me understood it completely, and tried their best to instill those same values in me. Their example proved that they weren’t just mouthing fancy words.

I was still fairly young, but I do remember asking my grandmother once why women sometimes seemed so much stronger than men. “Motherhood will do that to you,” she laughed, “and there are quite a few men who could learn something from it.”

I can make more sense of her words now than I could back then. The toughness wasn’t some sort of exhibition of prowess, intended to impress or to prove some point, but it came from the sharp focus of dedication to the good of others, to the level where there was never any hesitation about sacrificing anything and everything else.

In this way, a woman’s justice can be an example of the most perfect justice, of complete and total self-giving for what is right. Just look at what she will do out of love for her child. We would have no humanity at all, and hence no philosophy at all, without it. 

Written in 4/1999

Epictetus, Golden Sayings 111

Others may fence themselves with walls and houses, when they do such deeds as these, and wrap themselves in darkness—yes, they have many a device to hide themselves. 

Another may shut his door and station one before his chamber to say, if any comes, “He has gone forth! he is not at leisure!”
 
But the true Cynic will have none of these things. Instead of them, he must wrap himself in Modesty, or else he will but bring himself to shame, naked and under the open sky. That is his house; that is his door; that is the slave that guards his chamber; that is his darkness!

IMAGE: Jules Bastien-Lepage, Diogène (1873)
 

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 3.4

But above all a woman must be chaste and self-controlled; she must, I mean, be pure in respect of unlawful love, exercise restraint in other pleasures, not be a slave to desire, not be contentious, not lavish in expense, nor extravagant in dress. Such are the works of a virtuous woman, and to them I would add yet these: to control her temper, not to be overcome by grief, and to be superior to uncontrolled emotion of every kind.

Now these are the things that the teachings of philosophy transmit, and the person who has learned them and practices them would seem to me to have become a well-ordered and seemly character, whether man or woman.

Back in our last year of high school, a fellow seemed quite keen to “set me up” with a girl he knew. I have no idea why he was so motivated in this task, or how he thought this could possibly be a successful match.

I did my best to be as polite as I could, but it was clear to me that no good could ever come from this. “I’m sure she’s very nice,” I said, “but we would hardly get along. She’s never given me the time of day, and she seems to have quite a few other boyfriends already.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t be so sexist! So you somehow think it’s okay for guys to sleep around all they want, but girls need to be all proper? That’s such a double standard!”

“No, you know that I don’t live that way, and so there’s no hypocrisy if I choose not to share my life with people who live that way.”

“Hey, you’d hardly have to share your life with her. You could just have a good time with her.”

“See? There is precisely where we will have to agree to disagree.”

Should a woman practice self-control in her passions? Yes, she will gladly do just that if she judges virtue as the greatest human good. And before all those accusing fingers get pointed, this would be just as true of a good man as of a good woman, or of any person who is of good character. It isn’t a feminine virtue or a masculine virtue—it is a human virtue.

There is, furthermore, no need to assume that temperance, or any of the virtues, is somehow restrictive or repressive. Quite the contrary, it can be something that is truly liberating, because it allowed us to rule ourselves, not to be ruled by our desires. If I look at other people only as objects of gratification, and not as subjects worthy of respect, I have already degraded them, and I have also degraded myself.

I know it seems like such a hopelessly outdated and romantic ideal, especially at a time when we so openly buy and sell sex, but I once took it deeply to heart when someone told me that chastity was never about self-denial, but about self-mastery. Nature made me to give with love, not merely to take with lust.

A passion without wisdom to guide it will always bring out the worst in us. I began to learn that the hard way, by bitter experience, only a few months after that attempted set-up. I suddenly found myself drawn to someone who was so very smart, charming, and sophisticated. I now had the chance to put my principles into real practice, but I ended up bending them so hard that I downright broke them. 

I discovered fairly quickly that she was also dishonest and disloyal, and that her conscience was the last place she looked for inspiration. But surely that would change, if only I stuck with her? I felt so loudly for her that it drowned out my thinking.

My friends frowned and shook their heads. “She will break your heart, just wait! How many more men in her bed will it take before you stop looking the other way? When will you have had enough of her laughing at you behind your back?”

It was too easy to eventually be angry with her, many years later, but that was attention entirely misdirected. She was going to be who she was going to be, but I could decide who I was going to be. Chaste, self-controlled, not a slave to desire? Let me master those virtues myself, instead of worrying about them so much in others. My intemperance, my feeling without thinking, was my problem, not hers. My own weakness, and no one else’s, was the cause of my downfall here.

By all means, I can choose to trust another for being good, but it will make no difference if I can’t first trust myself to be good.

Written in 4/1999

IMAGE: Luca Giordano, Temperance (c. 1686)

Aesop's Fables 11

The Lion and the Mouse

Once when a Lion was asleep a little Mouse began running up and down upon him; this soon wakened the Lion, who placed his huge paw upon him, and opened his big jaws to swallow him. 

"Pardon, O King," cried the little Mouse; "forgive me this time, I shall never forget it. Who knows but what I may be able to do you a turn some of these days?" The Lion was so tickled at the idea of the Mouse being able to help him, that he lifted up his paw and let him go. 

Some time after the Lion was caught in a trap, and the hunters, who desired to carry him alive to the King, tied him to a tree while they went in search of a wagon to carry him on. 

Just then the little Mouse happened to pass by, and seeing the sad plight in which the Lion was, went up to him and soon gnawed away the ropes that bound the King of the Beasts. "Was I not right?" said the little Mouse. 

Little friends may prove great friends.

 

Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ 3.3

How all the words of God are to be heard with humility, and how many consider them not

1. "My Son, hear My words, for My words are most sweet, surpassing all the knowledge of the philosophers and wise men of this world. My words are spirit, and they are life, and are not to be weighed by man's understanding. They are not to be drawn forth for vain approbation, but to be heard in silence, and to be received with all humility and with deep love."

2. And I said, "Blessed is the man whom You teach, O Lord, and instruct him in Your law, that You may give him rest in time of adversity, and that he not be desolate in the earth."

3. "I," says the Lord, "taught the prophets from the beginning, and even now I cease not to speak unto all; but many are deaf and hardened against My voice; many love to listen to the world rather than to God, they follow after the desires of the flesh more readily than after the good pleasure of God. The world promises things that are temporal and small, and it is served with great eagerness. I promise things that are great and eternal, and the hearts of mortals are slow to stir. Who serves and obeys Me in all things, with such carefulness as he serves the world and its rulers? 

"Be you ashamed, O Sidon, says the sea;

And if you reason seek, hear you me.

"For a little reward men make a long journey; for eternal life many will scarcely lift a foot once from the ground. Mean reward is sought after; for a single piece of money sometimes there is shameful striving; for a thing that is vain and for a trifling promise, men shrink not from toiling day and night.

4. "But, O shame! for an unchangeable good, for an inestimable reward, for the highest honor and for a glory that fades not away, it is irksome to them to toil even a little. Be you ashamed therefore, slothful and discontented servant, for they are found readier unto perdition than you unto life. They rejoice more heartily in vanity than you in the truth. Sometimes, indeed, they are disappointed of their hope, but my promise fails no man, nor sends away empty him who trusts in Me. What I have promised I will give; what I have said I will fulfill, if only a man remains faithful in My love unto the end. Therefore am I the rewarder of all good men, and a strong approver of all who are godly.

5. "Write My words in your heart and consider them diligently, for they shall be very needful to you in times of temptation. What you understand not when you read, you shall know in the time of your visitation. I am wont to visit My elect in twofold manner, even by temptation and by comfort, and I teach them two lessons day by day, the one in chiding their faults, the other in exhorting them to grow in grace. He who has My words and rejects them, has one who shall judge him at the last day."

A PRAYER FOR THE SPIRIT OF DEVOTION

6. O Lord my God, You are all my good, and who am I that I should dare to speak unto You? I am the very poorest of Your servants, an abject worm, much poorer and more despicable than I know or dare to say. Nevertheless remember, O Lord, that I am nothing, I have nothing, and can do nothing.You  only are good, just and holy; You can do all things, are over all things, fill all things, leaving empty only the sinner. Call to mind Your tender mercies, and fill my heart with Your grace, You who will not that Your work should return to You void.

7. How can I bear this miserable life unless Your mercy and grace strengthen me? Turn not away Your face from me, delay not Your visitation. Withdraw not Your comfort from me, lest my soul "gasps after You as a thirsty land." Lord, teach me to do Your will, teach me to walk humbly and uprightly before You, for You are my wisdom, who knows me in truth, and knew me before the world was made and before I was born into the world.

The Peace of Wild Things

—bsc

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 2.3

What you desire, to be undisturbed, is a great thing, no, the greatest thing of all, and one that raises a man almost to the level of a god. The Greeks call this calm steadiness of mind euthymia, and Democritus' treatise upon it is excellently written.

 I call it peace of mind, for there is no necessity for translating so exactly as to copy the words of the Greek idiom. The essential point is to mark the matter under discussion by a name that ought to have the same meaning as its Greek name, though perhaps not the same form.

What we are seeking, then, is how the mind may always pursue a steady, unruffled course, may be pleased with itself, and look with pleasure upon its surroundings, and experience no interruption of this joy, but abide in a peaceful condition without being ever either elated or depressed: this will be "peace of mind”.

We are convinced that we must always be busy, frantically running about here and there, occupied with not only one task after another, but with as many tasks at the same time as possible. Then, we actually go around bragging about how hectic our lives are, as if this were somehow a badge of success. Look at all that we are sacrificing in order to be happy! How noble our suffering!

This would seem, however, quite an odd way to become happy. Happiness will not come from making ourselves more miserable. There is no rest for the restless. We will hardly find peace if we are always at war.

What Seneca here calls euthymia, peace of mind, is a way to describe that goal we are all seeking. It is what Serenus longs for in the midst of his dreariness and doubt. It is what I have always desired, though I have not clearly known how to find it, or even precisely what it is. It is what any man occupied with all the petty diversions of life hopes to discover, somewhere beyond or behind all of those diversions. It is what even the most wicked man, wrapped up in his own selfishness and spite, truly craves.

“Sure,” someone might say, “you mean feeling good?”

Yes, it may include a feeling of pleasure, but it is far more than that, and the fact that we reduce it only to feeling is a part of our problem. The sorts of pleasures we usually pursue are often about gratification, about continually consuming and possessing, and this is more about a deeper contentment and satisfaction with all things. It is feeling at peace, not longing for more.

Furthermore, the value of that feeling must itself be an effect of a certain state of mind, of how we live and act, of the whole of our own self in relationship to the world around us. It includes the body, the passions, the mind and the will, and it means that I can, at any time or in any circumstance, look within myself, and look outside of myself, and say with all conviction, “Yes, this is good!”

It will not be hindered by unexpected obstacles, and it will not be interrupted by extreme highs and lows. I won’t be laughing out loud at one moment, and crying uncontrollably the next. There will no need for furiously working to acquire more, because I will already have within me everything I need.

I can’t improve on how Seneca describes it, but I can point to further aspects or images that help me to personally understand it. I think of this peace of mind as building a balance, where no one part outweighs the other, and where all the pieces are working together as a whole. That balance is in my own soul, and in my soul's place in Nature.

I remember that sudden moment when I could ride my bicycle with no conscious effort, with no falling down, with no wobbling, with no frustrations. I remember that time I built my first house of cards, and it stayed standing. I remember when I finally sat next to another person on a park bench, and there was absolutely no need for anxiety or words. There is the balance, there is the harmony, there is the peace, there is the contentment. 

Written in 5/2011

Wisdom from the Bhagavad Gita 4

19. He who takes the Self to be the slayer, he who takes It to be the slain, neither of these knows. It does not slay, nor is It slain. 

20. This is never born, nor does It die. It is not that not having been It again comes into being. Or according to another view: It is not that having been It again ceases to be. This is unborn, eternal, changeless, ever-Itself. It is not killed when the body is killed. 

21. He that knows This to be indestructible, changeless, without birth, and immutable, how is he, O son of Prithâ, to slay or cause another to slay? 

22. Even as a man casts off worn-out clothes, and puts on others which are new, so the embodied casts off worn-out bodies, and enters into others which are new. 

23. This Self, weapons cut not; This, fire burns not; This, water wets not; and This, wind dries not. 

24. This Self cannot be cut, nor burnt, nor wetted, nor dried. Changeless, all-pervading, unmoving, immovable, the Self is eternal. 

25. This Self is said to be unmanifested, unthinkable, and unchangeable. Therefore, knowing This to be such, you ought not to mourn. 

26. But if you should take This to have constant birth and death, even in that case, O mighty-armed, you ought not to mourn for This. 

27. Of that which is born, death is certain, of that which is dead, birth is certain. Over the unavoidable, therefore, you ought not to grieve. 

28. All beings are unmanifested in their beginning, O Bhârata, manifested in their middle state and unmanifested again in their end. What is there then to grieve about?

—Bhagavad Gita, 2:19-28

Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 4.9

“Kings you may see sitting aloft upon their thrones,

gleaming with purple,

hedged about with grim guarding weapons,

threatening with fierce glances,

and their hearts heaving with passion.

If any man take from these proud ones

their outward covering of empty honor,

he will see within,

will see that these great ones bear secret chains.

For the heart of one is thus filled by lust

with the poisons of greed,

or seething rage lifts up its waves

and lashes his mind therewith;

or gloomy grief holds them weary captives,

or by slippery hopes they are tortured.

So when you see one head thus laboring

beneath so many tyrants,

you know he cannot do as he would,

for by hard task-masters is the master himself oppressed.”

—from Book 4, Poem 2

I never cease to be amazed at how much effort we can expend in trying to appear good without actually being good, in looking happy yet being quite miserable, in pretending to be at peace while constantly being at war.

Whenever I have been drawn into this trap, I am working from a false premise, that what shows on the outside matters more than what it is on the inside. The attempt will ultimately meet in failure, of course, because an illusion is just that, a trick of manipulating impressions to divert us from the reality. I can lie to others, and I can lie to myself, but crooked effects will reveal the crooked causes behind them. It only requires honestly looking at it for myself, instead of seeing what I am told to see.

I have never met any actual kings or queens, though I have known many people who would like us to think that they are like kings or queens. They often acquire an incredible skill at building up layer after layer of appearances, quite difficult to unravel.

There were a number of priests who gave noble talks about chastity, and then did something quite different behind closed doors.

There was a colleague who had everyone convinced he was the JAG lawyer who had prosecuted the case that inspired A Few Good Men, and then put up a website for a fake research institute to raise money for himself.

There was the girl who impressed us by saying she was a “Miss Teen” beauty queen champion, though you had to look at the fine print to see the title was bought from a vanity pageant.

There was the Chairman of the Board whose “aw shucks” charm had us all convinced he cared deeply for us, like his family, and then he fired us by mail.

The best fake image I could ever pull off was about coming across as profound and mysterious, and pretending that I understood things I had absolutely no clue about. People only needed to get to know me a bit to see through all of that nonsense, so I could never manage to get in on my résumé.

What a horrific form of self-abuse it all is, polishing the outside while rotting on the inside. The very desire to impress is itself already a symptom of the rot, because it fails to see that whatever dignity and worth we have is from the content of our character, not from the worship of fame and fortune. I think I am making myself the master, and the whole time I am submitting myself to slavery. I am a puppet on a string.

Who are now the new masters I am giving dominion over me? My own lust, greed, and anger, my unbridled desires to be gratified, to hold possession, to inflict pain when I feel pain. There is no happiness there at all, only the appearance of power.

The next time I feel threatened or intimidated by all these trappings, the next time I become jealous of those who flaunt their trophies, let me look again, because they are not what they appear to be. Most important of all, let it help me to rid myself of those very same delusions. If I am ever to have any merit, it will not come from putting on a show. 

Written in 10/2015

Wisdom from the Early Stoics, Zeno of Citium 4

The people of Athens held Zeno in high honor, as is proved by their depositing with him the keys of the city walls, and their honoring him with a golden crown and a bronze statue. This last mark of respect was also shown to him by citizens of his native town, who deemed his statue an ornament to their city, and the men of Citium living in Sidon were also proud to claim him for their own. 

Antigonus (Gonatas) also favored him, and whenever he came to Athens would hear him lecture and often invited him to come to his court. This offer he declined, but dispatched there one of his friends, Persaeus, the son of Demetrius and a native of Citium, who flourished in the 130th Olympiad, at which time Zeno was already an old man. 

According to Apollonius of Tyre in his work upon Zeno, the letter of Antigonus was couched in the following terms:

"King Antigonus to Zeno the philosopher, greeting. 

"While in fortune and fame I deem myself your superior, in reason and education I own myself inferior, as well as in the perfect happiness which you have attained. 

"Wherefore I have decided to ask you to pay me a visit, being persuaded that you will not refuse the request. By all means, then, do your best to hold conference with me, understanding clearly that you will not be the instructor of myself alone but of all the Macedonians taken together. 

"For it is obvious that whoever instructs the ruler of Macedonia and guides him in the paths of virtue will also be training his subjects to be good men. As is the ruler, such for the most part it may be expected that his subjects will become." 

And Zeno's reply is as follows: 

"Zeno to King Antigonus, greeting. 

"I welcome your love of learning in so far as you cleave to that true education which tends to advantage and not to that popular counterfeit of it which serves only to corrupt morals. 

"But if anyone has yearned for philosophy, turning away from much-vaunted pleasure which renders effeminate the souls of some of the young, it is evident that not by nature only, but also by the bent of his will he is inclined to nobility of character. But if a noble nature be aided by moderate exercise and further receive ungrudging instruction, it easily comes to acquire virtue in perfection. 

"But I am constrained by bodily weakness, due to old age, for I am eighty years old; and for that reason I am unable to join you. 

"But I send you certain companions of my studies whose mental powers are not inferior to mine, while their bodily strength is far greater, and if you associate with these you will in no way fall short of the conditions necessary to perfect happiness."

So he sent Persaeus and Philonides the Theban; and Epicurus in his letter to his brother Aristobulus mentions them both as living with Antigonus.

—Diogenes Laërtius, 7.6-9

Tyranny

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 3.3

In the first place, a woman must be a good housekeeper; that is a careful accountant of all that pertains to the welfare of her house and capable of directing the household slaves. It is my contention that these are the very qualities that would be present particularly in the woman who studies philosophy, since obviously each of them is a part of life, and philosophy is nothing other than knowledge about life, and the philosopher, as Socrates said, quoting Homer, is constantly engaged in investigating precisely this:

"Whatsoever of good and of evil is wrought in your halls.”

I will occasionally sneak in some Stoic texts when I teach, in between all the more popular ones I am expected to cover. Once, when we were reading the section on gender in Plato’s Republic, I took an unscheduled detour to discuss this brief essay by Musonius Rufus.

When we came to this passage, I already had a hunch that there would be strong objections. I see texts as an opportunity not only to propose a certain position, but also, and in some ways more importantly, as a means for thinking through any problem, and coming to appreciate different points of view. After all, the conclusions we arrive at will only be as good as the reasoning we use to get there.

The response was immediate. “See! I knew these guys were all fascists! Look, he says right here that a woman’s job is running the home, and then he talks about slaves!”

“First, we could try not to say that anything we don’t like is fascist; didn’t we have that conversation a few weeks ago? Second, for right or for wrong, slavery was a real part of ancient society, just as wage labor is in ours. But let’s put those two aside for the moment, and think about what Musonius might mean by a housekeeper.”

“What is there to talk about? He says woman should run the house.”

“Being a servant, who cooks, and cleans, and follows orders?”

“Exactly.”

“But he says she directs and manages the household, not that she is just a laborer, and that she does this through her own sound judgment, through her knowledge of what is right and good. Her authority and power follow from her ability to think for herself, which is why she needs philosophy.”

“But why does she have to be at home, while the men get to go out do whatever they want?”

“I’m not sure it means that women should only be at home, just as I’m not sure it means that men should stay away from the home. Different customs and traditions may express it in different ways, but Musonius’ whole argument is that both men and women are called choose good lives guided by reason, the ability to rule themselves.

“Here’s an example you may not agree with, but hopefully you can try to understand it. My wife and I were once at a fancy dinner party, and the conversation turned to careers. The hostess asked my wife what her biggest goal was. ‘To be a good wife and mother,’ she answered.

“The room suddenly went dead silent, and I think I heard some silverware drop.

“The hostess turned to me with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. ‘Well, I suppose that makes you happy, having such a subservient wife.’ This produced a good chuckle around the table.

“I had to think of what to say, because any answer I gave, even just laughing along, was going to bring me trouble. My Irish temper bubbled inside me, but I kept silent. Say nothing if you have nothing good to say.

“I didn’t have to worry. In a calm and friendly manner, my wife replied to the hostess. ‘You don’t have to turn to him. I can think and speak for myself. My most important job in this life is to care for our family, and his most important job in this life is to care for our family. One reason we are married is precisely because we agreed on this. Whichever one of us might have a fancy job outside the home, we both know that it is only there to help us with what is inside the home. The home is the center. A worldly career is a means, but our real human calling to virtue is the end.’

“The balance of power at the table had suddenly shifted. Someone suggested refilling the wine glasses, and the conversation drifted back to pretty and shallow things. I’m sure they made fun of us later, but no one in that crowd ever called my wife subservient again.

“Consider the possibility that the home is not a chore or a burden, but a vocation and a blessing, and that it should be the priority for all of its members, husbands and wives, parents and children. Maybe, just maybe, we have it backwards when we put careers ahead of families, when families should actually be ahead of careers. Love is bigger than money. What Musonius says will only make sense from that perspective." 

Written in 4/1999

Sayings of Ramakrishna 17

Every being is Nârâyana. Man or animal, sage or knave, nay, the whole universe is Nârâyana, the Supreme Spirit. 

Seneca, On Peace of Mind 2.2

What you need, therefore, is, not any of those harsher remedies to which allusion has been made, not that you should in some cases check yourself, in others be angry with yourself, in others sternly reproach yourself, but that you should adopt that which comes last in the list, have confidence in yourself, and believe that you are proceeding on the right path, without being led aside by the numerous divergent tracks of wanderers that cross it in every direction, some of them circling about the right path itself.

There are times when I need to be tough with myself, and then there are times when I need to give myself a bit more credit. I know how dangerous it can be to confuse the two, but when informed by honest understanding each method has its place.

To use Seneca’s analogy, sometimes I have completely lost my way, and I don’t know where the right path is, or even in which direction I am pointed. Great dangers call for radical measures, so I need to be as firm with myself as I can possibly be.

At other times, I am already on the right path, and my moral compass has steered me in the right direction. Still I am easily distracted, or weighed down by the pettiest things, or prone to lethargy. I stumble, I fall, I get confused. This may well be the time when I don’t need to give myself a stern lecture, but rather some calm and patient encouragement.

My own experience has been that this is like the difference between knowing nothing at all and at least knowing a bit of something, or also between a stubborn indignation and a sincere willingness to improve. It is a wilted conscience as distinct from a growing conscience. A firm hand has often helped me with the former, and a gentle touch with the latter.

I’m not sure if the analogies works entirely, but I picture it to myself as something like the contrast between the stick and the carrot, or between vinegar and honey.

I have some experience in working with self-help groups, and I have noticed we will sometimes foolishly apply a certain remedy at the time when it is least helpful.  Your mileage may vary, but a good hug is not the best solution when a member has stolen the cashbox to feed his vice of choice. Similarly, a raised voice is the worst response when a member is in tears because she has had a bad day.

There is a world of difference between “You lazy bum!” and “You’re doing great. Keep going!”

I have found this test to be useful: What is my current attitude toward my own responsibilities? If I am smugly looking down at them, I may need a thrashing to get myself back on track. If I am struggling to keep up with them, I probably need kind inspiration. Sometimes I need to be brought down, and sometimes I need to be raised up. 

Written in 5/2011