Seneca, Moral Letters 29.4

It is mountebanks of that sort, for whom it would be more creditable to have left philosophy alone than to traffic in her, whom Marcellinus will throw in my teeth. But I have decided to put up with taunts; he may stir my laughter, but I perchance shall stir him to tears; or, if he persists in his jokes, I shall rejoice, so to speak, in the midst of sorrow, because he is blessed with such a merry sort of lunacy. 

 

But that kind of merriment does not last long. Observe such men, and you will note that within a short space of time they laugh to excess and rage to excess.

 

It is my plan to approach him and to show him how much greater was his worth when many thought it less. Even though I shall not root out his faults, I shall put a check upon them; they will not cease, but they will stop for a time; and perhaps they will even cease, if they get the habit of stopping. This is a thing not to be despised, since to men who are seriously stricken the blessing of relief is a substitute for health. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 29 

 

When a Marcellinus picks out the worst instance while ignoring all the rest, he is acting on bad faith. I do not mean that he necessarily intends any malice, since his reactions are fueled by confusion, but rather that he deliberately misrepresents in order to give himself a perceived advantage over those he considers to be his opponents. 

 

What he fails to realize is that he doesn’t need to look big in order to be good, and that conflicts of personality really have no place in the order of Nature. All is lost as soon as a man no longer thinks it essential to be sincere. 

 

Seneca understandably struggles with this sort of tomfoolery. It requires great endurance, but it is quite possible to bear mockery, if only we don’t take ourselves too seriously. It demands tremendous composure, but it is quite possible to combat pessimism, if only we are willing to consistently model the inner peace that flows from a positive attitude. Yet what response can be offered to the man who knows he can push our buttons by putting on an act? 

 

While it may not immediately reform Marcellinus, Seneca knows that the key is in asking him to reflect on his own sense of self, to go all the way back to establishing his merits without the need to be questionably illustrious. Behind every grandstander is a worried soul, just as behind every bully is a child who doesn’t feel loved. Without any derision, remind him how the way out is to learn to be himself, not to put on a spectacle he believes other expect. 

 

If he is reminded of this with all honesty and compassion, it strengthens his own power to transform this realization into a whole new set of habits for living. 

 

My own attempts at teaching have taught me a few ways the class clown can be tamed, and the bored scoffer can be motivated, though all I have in my arsenal against duplicity is the occasional loving word combined with a boatload of hope. I can give the dodger countless opportunities to change his ways, by pointing out how much of a better man he is when he doesn’t play games, but only he can ultimately change himself. 

—Reflection written in 11/2012 

IMAGE: Adriaen van Stade, The Schoolmaster (1662)