The Death of Marcus Aurelius

The Death of Marcus Aurelius

Tuesday, July 7, 2020

Musonius Rufus, Lectures 11.10


For of the true lovers of philosophy, there is not one who would not be willing to live with a good man in the country, even if the place be very rude, since he would be bound to profit greatly from this sojourn by living with his teacher night and day, by being away from the evils of the city, which are an obstacle to the study of philosophy, and from the fact that his conduct, whether good or bad, cannot escape observation—a great advantage to those who are learning.

Would living on a farm help me to build up my professional standing? Would it look good on my resumé?

Would working a field benefit my social life? Would it improve my networking connections?

Would milking a cow assure that I be made a partner or earn tenure in a few years? Would it allow me more flexibility when seeking future opportunities for employment?

No, a life of agriculture would probably do none of these things, though life will sometimes throw me for a loop, so I can never really know. The more important question, however, is why I would even aspire to such shallow goals to begin with?

Helpful and unassuming tasks assist the soul in forging its own utility and humility.

The place does not need to be grand, and the profit does not need to bring me luxury, and the company does not need to give me status. If I care for the quality of my humanity, I will find a total contentment in the cultivation of my character.

“Well, that’s just naïve. You can’t be a good person unless you first have the means for buying what you need to be a good person.”

Did you really just say that? What must be bought? What is needed beyond reason and choice? This is what makes the Stoic distinct from the slave to circumstances.

“Why would you want to live with your teacher in any event? It’s annoying enough that you need to see him for three or four hours a week. That’s sufficient to get you a brilliant letter of recommendation, and for him putting in a good word with the folks doing the hiring.”

If I can’t bear to be with him, how is he worthy to be my teacher, or how am I worthy to be his student? Is a teacher someone who will help me to shape myself in all things, or is he just an accessory to my own vanity?

I have gotten myself into all sorts of trouble, in all sorts of places, but it was always harder to do so when there were fewer temptations ready at hand.

I have slipped under the radar quite regularly, but it was always harder to do so when someone else who cared for my welfare was keeping an eye on me, and offering me sound and loving advice.

I still remember those college years, where we publicly promised our allegiance to God, to learning, and to service, and we even wrote wonderful essays about all of it. Then we walked a bit of a ways to the dorm rooms, and privately occupied ourselves with feeding, fighting, and fornicating. That very contradiction has now shaped many generations of supposedly fine Americans.

Why separate the false appearance of a man from the reality of being merely a beast? Why not become an actual rational animal from the get-go, where all of it is joined together in a harmony? Whether it be on a farm or elsewhere, there are many sorts of ways to the unity and dignity of the whole person.

Learning, I must remind myself, requires becoming someone better, not working on the lie of seeming to be someone better. Remove my chances at cheating, and I remove my chances at failing to live well. 

Written in 11/1999


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