Musonius Rufus, Lectures 8.6

Now, since fearlessness and intrepidity and boldness are the product of courage, how else would a man acquire them than by having a firm conviction that death and hardships are not evils?

For these are the things, death and hardships, I repeat, which unbalance and frighten men when they believe that they are evils; that they are not evils philosophy is the only teacher.

Consequently if kings ought to possess courage, and they more than anyone else should possess it, they must set themselves to the study of philosophy, since they cannot become courageous by any other means.

Once I have begun to tame my passions, in however small a way, I will find myself facing circumstances I do not anticipate, situations that frighten me. The fear does not come from the object I dread, but from within me.

Fortitude, another one of those pesky cardinal virtues, is what I now need. I must be willing to accept the possibility of losing some lesser things in order to attain the greater things in life.

That has always been the key for me, to always remember that my fear is of my own making, and that what I may have to surrender is as nothing compared to what I will gain. With that in my mind, I may still flinch, and I may still cry out, but I can now walk into the fire.

What do I ultimately fear the most? It all boils down to what I perceive as threats to my deepest feelings and threats to my very existence. I fear pain, and I fear death.

Genuine philosophy, which can only come from an understanding of human nature, will tell me something that goes against the grain of my habits: pain is not an evil, and death is not an evil.

This is not what they have told me all of my life, but it is true nonetheless. I have been given the power of reason, which means I am made to know. I have been given the power of a will, which means I am made to choose. The rest is all secondary.

The merit of my choices will proceed from the depth of my understanding. The worth of my emotions can only be measured by the quality of my judgment; how it feels must be viewed through my estimation of the good.

Does it hurt? Yes, it pains me mightily. Don’t stop there. What can I make of this hurt, how may I transform it into a blessing? That is all I must think of, and that requires courage.

May it end me? Yes, this bag of flesh and bones may soon have no life in it. Don’t stop there. I will end in any event, and the only question is whether I will go out of this world with virtue or with vice. More of life won’t necessarily make for a better life, and that requires courage.

Now when was the last time a leader told you that? He may ask you to suffer for him, but when has he asked you to suffer for your own happiness, not for his?

Now when was the last time a politician told you that? He may ask you to die for him, but when has he told you he would die for you?

Courage requires going against the stream, not just floating along with it. Show me a king who is willing to do that, and I will follow him. I will gladly suffer with him, and I will gladly die with him. 

Written in 9/1999