The Death of Marcus Aurelius

The Death of Marcus Aurelius

Monday, October 18, 2021

Seneca, Moral Letters 16.5


If I know you well, you have already been trying to find out, from the very beginning of my letter, what little contribution it brings to you. 

 

Sift the letter, and you will find it. You need not wonder at any genius of mine; for as yet I am lavish only with other men's property. 

 

But why did I say "other men"? Whatever is well said by anyone is mine. This also is a saying of Epicurus: 

 

"If you live according to Nature, you will never be poor; if you live according to opinion, you will never be rich."

 

Nature's wants are slight; the demands of opinion are boundless. 

 

Suppose that the property of many millionaires is heaped up in your possession. Assume that fortune carries you far beyond the limits of a private income, decks you with gold, clothes you in purple, and brings you to such a degree of luxury and wealth that you can bury the earth under your marble floors; that you may not only possess, but tread upon, riches. 

 

Add statues, paintings, and whatever any art has devised for the satisfaction of luxury; you will only learn from such things to crave still greater.

 

It is the quality of the thinking that gives a purpose to the doing and an order to the feeling, and so it is philosophy that guides the way. If the world doesn’t feel right, maybe I’m not acting right, and that then goes back to whether I am understanding what is right to begin with. 

 

The worldly man scoffs at this, of course, since he says that philosophy won’t help him get the things he wants, and yet he wonders why he is never satisfied when he is surrounded by the very things he wants. 

 

To know what I should want, I must become familiar with my own nature, and how that plays a part in the whole of Nature. Once I begin to do this, I realize that I don’t need to ask for so much at all, because everything that is required has already been provided. I only have to build the right habits, by which I can then put those gifts to their best use. 

 

But if I am moved by every whim, or copying the views that are currently the most popular, or following to the lure of immediate appearances, I have left Nature behind, and have succumbed to the relativism of opinions. 

 

Where an estimation is not tied down by an account of the reasons why, then anything and everything that seems appealing to me will enslave me. 

 

And it will put me at war with those who happens to feel just the slightest bit differently, where a love of self ends up smothering any sense for a common love of truth. 

 

Blind to what is necessary, I reach out for all sorts of diversions, and I lash out at anyone who stands in my way. Why is it a surprise when I remain full of longing, even after I have accumulated many varieties of honors, trinkets, and titillations? They are not what I need, or what will nourish my nature, and hence I wither on the vine. I want more and more, while it never occurs to me that more of something harmful to me is hardly a replacement for just a little of something that is beneficial to me. 

 

The fame, the money, and the pleasure are not in themselves the problem; the love of these things for their own sake is most certainly the problem. They will never fill the emptiness in hearts and minds, as love and understanding are directed toward nobler things. 

 

Perhaps it is just an urban legend, but I recall a story about a fellow who stole a koala from a zoo, intending to offer it as a present for his girlfriend. After all, those animals are so terribly cute, and how better to show love than to steal, and then to gift, something adorable? 

 

He ran into a problem, however, when that fine animal would not drink any water, or eat any of the cat food he had provided. He apparently got himself caught while trying to anonymously return the thirsty and hungry creature. 

 

What the young thug did not consider was how a koala is a picky eater, and that his diet is limited largely to eucalyptus leaves. Give him all the beer and crisps you like, and he will not be satisfied. 

 

In much the same way, the lover of fortune foolishly believes that he will be satisfied by winning more worldly spoils. He remains insatiable because he should have stuck with virtue and eucalyptus, not booty and kibble. 

 

Nature will allow me to grow, and mere opinions will kill. Let me make sure I know how to properly distinguish between riches and poverty. 

Written in 7/2012




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