Seneca, Moral Letters 21.3

The deep flood of time will roll over us; some few great men will raise their heads above it, and, though destined at the last to depart into the same realms of silence, will battle against oblivion and maintain their ground for long.

 

That which Epicurus could promise his friend, this I promise you, Lucilius. I shall find favor among later generations; I can take with me names that will endure as long as mine. Our poet Virgil promised an eternal name to two heroes, and is keeping his promise:

 

“Blest heroes twain! If power my song possess,

The record of your names shall never be

Erased from out the book of Time, while yet

Aeneas' tribe shall keep the Capitol,

That rock immovable, and Roman sire

Shall empire hold." 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 21

 

In the midst of suffering and surrounded by uncertain circumstances, it may appear as if fame is unreliable and random. Indeed, we need not look very far to see the most understanding and loving people overlooked by the crowd, even as the vile and the depraved are revered as if they were gods. While the Stoic can surely make the case that virtue is its own reward, how can Seneca possibly argue that the upright will also be remembered? 

 

Honor can be a tricky word, in that it may refer to both the content of character as well as the recognition that should be its due. When properly considered, these two are indeed made to be joined together. Not everyone will give you credit for doing good, and those who are satisfied with their own ignorance may well despise you, but those who live according to Nature will always offer you their admiration. The best people acknowledge and inspire one another. 

 

Are there not cases where an act of courage or compassion is seen by no one at all, and so it will never live on in anyone’s mind? Even then, the Stoic knows that it will claim its rightful place in the order of Providence, held dear within the Divine Mind, which is infinite and eternal. There is ultimately a far greater consciousness at work than the merely human. 

 

Yet in the grand scheme of things, isn’t Seneca being rather vain when he assures Lucilius of a fame on the level of the heroes from Virgil's Aeneid? The reference may well be tongue in cheek, though it all depends on our sense of what is truly glorious, and whether the little guy can be just as noble as the conquerors of legend. If we look first to the depth of conviction, it can most certainly be so. 

 

In Book Nine of the Aeneid, two young warriors, Nisus and Euryalus, commit to delivering an important message to Aeneas. Sneaking through the opposing camp, they kill some of their sleeping enemies, but are then spotted in the darkness and pursued. They flee into the forest, but Euryalus, being less swift, is captured, and so Nisus must decide if he will continue onward or return to save his friend. He chooses the latter, and while both of them now perish in battle, they have died together, showing how love is the highest law. 

 

Virgil’s lines are in honor of their courage, and tell us how as long as Rome stands, their sacrifice will be recalled. It is a moving and powerful story, and my brief summary does not do it justice. Go read the original, and then you too will find yourself praising them. 

 

Can Seneca, or Lucilius, or any one of us share in such a glory? Yes, if that inner flame of the virtues remains well tended, we can walk along with them, and our names will matter to the people who really count. 

—Reflection written in 9/2012

IMAGE: Jean-Baptiste Roman, Nisus and Euryalus (1827)