Plutarch, The Life of Cato the Younger 1

Over the years, a good number of Stoics have come to consider Cato the Younger (95-46 BC) as a sort of martyr or patron saint for the philosophy. I am always wary of any hero worship, which too readily praises the strengths while conveniently overlooking the weaknesses, but however you cut it, the life of Cato provides a wonderful opportunity to reflect on what it means to strive for virtue as the highest human good. 

The man could certainly be stubborn, and he sometimes let his passions get the better of him. I take note of this because I also struggle with those flaws, even as my own life is not nearly so grand in scale. I find that I learn best from those who have already faced the same sort of trials. 

I have now read through Plutarch's Life of Cato the Younger numerous times, and each occasion leads me down a different path, often leaving me with more questions than answers. I take a keen interest in Plutarch's writings, as all the entries in the Lives of the Noble Greeks and Romans are focused on examining the development of character, and yet I don't have to worry about him trying to whitewash the Stoics, since he was often quite critical of their views. Like any good thinker, he praises what is good while also finding a lesson in what is bad. 

I am not fluent enough in the subtleties of Roman history to share my own notes on Cato's conflict with Julius Caesar and his eventual role in the civil war, so I tend to encourage people to read Plutarch's account free from any of my annoying commentary. All of Plutarch's Lives have left me a bit wiser than I was before, though the story of Cato is the one I return to most often and eagerly. 

The translation used here is by Bernadotte Perrin, from the Loeb Classical Library (1919), which is in the public domain. 

—4/2001 

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Cato's family got its first luster and fame from his great-grandfather Cato (a man whose virtue gained him the greatest reputation and influence among the Romans, as has been written in his Life), but the death of both parents left him an orphan, together with his brother Caepio and his sister Porcia. Cato had also a half-sister, Servilia, the daughter of his mother.​ All these children were brought up in the home of Livius Drusus, their uncle on the mother's side, who at that time was a leader in the conduct of public affairs; for he was a most power­ful speaker, in general a man of the greatest discretion, and yielded to no Roman in dignity of purpose.

We are told that from his very childhood Cato displayed, in speech, countenance, and in his childish sports, a nature that was inflexible, imperturbable, and altogether steadfast. He set out to accomplish his purposes with a vigor beyond his years, and while he was harsh and repellent to those who would flatter him, he was still more master­ful towards those who tried to frighten him. It was altogether difficult to make him laugh, although once in a while he relaxed his features so far as to smile; and he was not quickly nor easily moved to anger, though once angered he was inexorable.

When, accordingly, he came to study, he was sluggish of comprehension and slow, but what he comprehended he held fast in his memory. And this is generally the way of nature: those who are well endowed are more apt to recall things to mind, but those retain things in their memory who acquire them with toil and trouble;​ for everything they learn becomes branded, as it were, upon their minds. 

It would appear, too, that Cato's reluctance to be persuaded made his learning anything more laborious. For, to learn is simply to allow something to be done to you, and to be quickly persuaded is natural for those who are less able to offer resistance. Therefore young men are more easily persuaded than old men, and sick folk, than those who are well, and, in a word, where the power to raise objections is weakest, the act of submission is easiest. 

However, we are told that Cato was obedient to his tutor, and did everything that was enjoined upon him, although in each case he demanded the reason and wanted to know the why and wherefore. And, indeed, his tutor was a man of culture, and more ready to reason with a pupil than to thrash him. His name was Sarpedon.