But how many masters is he creating in these very men! I have seen standing in the line, before the door of Callistus, the former master, of Callistus; I have seen the master himself shut out while others were welcomed—the master who once fastened the "For Sale" ticket on Callistus and put him in the market along with the good-for-nothing slaves.
But he has been paid off by that slave who was shuffled into the first lot of those on whom the crier practices his lungs; the slave, too, in his turn has cut his name from the list and in his turn has adjudged him unfit to enter his house. The master sold Callistus, but how much has Callistus made his master pay for!
Kindly remember that he whom you call your slave sprang from the same stock, is smiled upon by the same skies, and on equal terms with yourself breathes, lives, and dies. It is just as possible for you to see in him a free-born man as for him to see in you a slave.
As a result of the massacres in Marius's day, many a man of distinguished birth, who was taking the first steps toward senatorial rank by service in the army, was humbled by fortune, one becoming a shepherd, another a caretaker of a country cottage. Despise, then, if you dare, those to whose estate you may at any time descend, even when you are despising them.
But he has been paid off by that slave who was shuffled into the first lot of those on whom the crier practices his lungs; the slave, too, in his turn has cut his name from the list and in his turn has adjudged him unfit to enter his house. The master sold Callistus, but how much has Callistus made his master pay for!
Kindly remember that he whom you call your slave sprang from the same stock, is smiled upon by the same skies, and on equal terms with yourself breathes, lives, and dies. It is just as possible for you to see in him a free-born man as for him to see in you a slave.
As a result of the massacres in Marius's day, many a man of distinguished birth, who was taking the first steps toward senatorial rank by service in the army, was humbled by fortune, one becoming a shepherd, another a caretaker of a country cottage. Despise, then, if you dare, those to whose estate you may at any time descend, even when you are despising them.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 47
Whenever I find myself griping about how the world has gone to hell, I can always ground myself by turning to the wider perspective of history. This reminds me how human nature, despite its accidental differences of time and place, is essentially subject to the same brilliant highs and disgraceful lows.
A man who acts with Nature rises to the Divine. A man who goes contrary to Nature sinks lower than any beast. It was just as prevalent back then as it is right now. The difference is in each of our individual choices.
Due to its dramatic extremes, Roman history is particularly enlightening, and I might initially be forgiven for thinking it more like a plot from a soap opera than an expression of real life. There I can find all the thrilling examples I need, from profound inspirations to dire warnings.
The story of Callistus, for example, a former slave who maneuvered his way into the good favors of the Emperors Caligula and Claudius, tells me something about how quickly our circumstances can change, and how anxious and miserable we make ourselves by craving fame and fortune.
There had been a time when Callistus was the property of another man, ironically a fellow whose name no one now seems to remember. Sold off as being useless, Callistus had his revenge, for he found his way to civil freedom, and schemed his way into the Imperial household, amassing great influence and wealth in the process. Now he could treat his former master with the same contempt he had once received.
The lesson has two cautions wrapped into one. A former master who has been reduced to being no better than a groveling slave, and a former slave who nevertheless remains chained to his wickedness.
What use is the prominence when the soul inside is still twisted?
If that tale wasn’t enough, Seneca points to Gaius Marius’ purge of Rome in 87 BC, when he executed or exiled so many of his opponents. Marius had himself been banished to Africa, and now his vindictiveness would further prove how nothing in the world of politics is reliable or lasting.
It would be best if I thought of all people as free, as they are by nature, instead of looking to their worldly privileges, which are merely a matter of shallow appearances. I will save myself much trouble if I judge a man by his virtues, not by his position. True freedom or slavery are in the head and the heart, having nothing to do with the trappings of status.
As I think about it, the life of a shepherd, or a caretaker of a country cottage, hardly sounds so bad, since it would permit me to first focus, without diversions, on the task of treating all my neighbors with dignity. Let Callistus have his bribery, let Marius play with power—I seek peace of mind in my conscience.
Whenever I find myself griping about how the world has gone to hell, I can always ground myself by turning to the wider perspective of history. This reminds me how human nature, despite its accidental differences of time and place, is essentially subject to the same brilliant highs and disgraceful lows.
A man who acts with Nature rises to the Divine. A man who goes contrary to Nature sinks lower than any beast. It was just as prevalent back then as it is right now. The difference is in each of our individual choices.
Due to its dramatic extremes, Roman history is particularly enlightening, and I might initially be forgiven for thinking it more like a plot from a soap opera than an expression of real life. There I can find all the thrilling examples I need, from profound inspirations to dire warnings.
The story of Callistus, for example, a former slave who maneuvered his way into the good favors of the Emperors Caligula and Claudius, tells me something about how quickly our circumstances can change, and how anxious and miserable we make ourselves by craving fame and fortune.
There had been a time when Callistus was the property of another man, ironically a fellow whose name no one now seems to remember. Sold off as being useless, Callistus had his revenge, for he found his way to civil freedom, and schemed his way into the Imperial household, amassing great influence and wealth in the process. Now he could treat his former master with the same contempt he had once received.
The lesson has two cautions wrapped into one. A former master who has been reduced to being no better than a groveling slave, and a former slave who nevertheless remains chained to his wickedness.
What use is the prominence when the soul inside is still twisted?
If that tale wasn’t enough, Seneca points to Gaius Marius’ purge of Rome in 87 BC, when he executed or exiled so many of his opponents. Marius had himself been banished to Africa, and now his vindictiveness would further prove how nothing in the world of politics is reliable or lasting.
It would be best if I thought of all people as free, as they are by nature, instead of looking to their worldly privileges, which are merely a matter of shallow appearances. I will save myself much trouble if I judge a man by his virtues, not by his position. True freedom or slavery are in the head and the heart, having nothing to do with the trappings of status.
As I think about it, the life of a shepherd, or a caretaker of a country cottage, hardly sounds so bad, since it would permit me to first focus, without diversions, on the task of treating all my neighbors with dignity. Let Callistus have his bribery, let Marius play with power—I seek peace of mind in my conscience.
—Reflection written in 3/2013
IMAGE: Joseph Kremer, Exiled Gaius Marius Sitting Among the Ruins of Carthage (c. 1800)
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