Seneca, Moral Letters 21.4

Whenever men have been thrust forward by fortune, whenever they have become part and parcel of another's influence, they have found abundant favor, their houses have been thronged, only so long as they themselves have kept their position; when they themselves have left it, they have slipped at once from the memory of men. 

 

But in the case of innate ability, the respect in which it is held increases, and not only does honor accrue to the man himself, but whatever has attached itself to his memory is passed on from one to another. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 21

 

On one of the rare occasions when I managed to teach something about Stoicism in class, sneaking some texts past the canon dictated by the powers that be, I made use of this letter by Seneca in a discussion about the nature of honor. I am always pleased as punch when students think for themselves, though I was a bit taken aback by the intensity of one fellow’s disapproval: 

 

“This is such bullshit! These guys are so arrogant to think that anyone will care about them, but I’d never heard of Seneca or Cicero before last week, and I sure don’t know who Lucilius was, or Epicurus, or Idomeneus, or Atticus, or these two background characters from the Aeneid. Who the hell reads the Aeneid anyway? Only people who don’t get invited to parties, that’s who!” 

 

This won him a chuckle from his group of friends, and I had to take a deep breath before offering a reply. 

 

“Well, I read the Aeneid all the time, and Seneca and Cicero are like friends to me, but I understand why people like me might not be welcome in certain circles. The fact is that these people do have a legacy, and it all boils down to who chooses to remember them and why they are chosen to be remembered. I would only ask that you make your own choice of heroes with great care, not for their sake, but because of what you end up making of yourself.” 

 

Honestly, while they would give everyone their best wishes, I’m not sure if Seneca or Cicero would be terribly offended if spoiled college kids or the longue lizards down at the dive bar are paying them no heed. Whom we decide to associate with, and whom we decide to follow, is a reflection of our own values. 

 

I don’t believe that Seneca thought he would be famous because he sat in the Senate or rubbed shoulders with emperors, but he was confident he would win the esteem of like-minded seekers of the true, the good, and the beautiful. How many such people there might be matters far less than how deeply they really care. Decent folks have a way of sticking to their own; integrity and loyalty are sacred to them. 

 

To win fame is not an end in itself, and the bitter irony is that as soon as we eagerly pursue it, we lose a hold of ourselves by becoming slaves to circumstances. Nevertheless, as Musonius Rufus said, if you learn to respect yourself, you will find that others will come to respect you as well. This is due to the excellence of developing the gifts within your own soul, never surrendering your life to forces beyond your control. 

—Reflection written in 9/2012

IMAGE: Giovanni Francesco Romanelli, An Allegory of Fame  (c. 1650)