The Death of Marcus Aurelius

The Death of Marcus Aurelius

Sunday, May 28, 2023

Epictetus, Discourses 1.30.1


Chapter 30: What a man should have ready to hand in the crises of life.
 
When you appear before one of the mighty of the earth, remember that Another looks from above on what is happening and that you must please Him rather than this man. He that is above inquires of you: 
 
“What did you say in the school about exile and prison and bonds and death and dishonor?” 
 
I said they were “indifferent”. 
 
“What do you call them now, then? Have they changed?” 
 
No. 
 
“Have you changed then?” 
 
No. 
 
“Tell me then what things are indifferent.” 
 
Things which lie outside the will's control. 
 
“Tell me what follows.” 
 
Things indifferent concern me not at all. 
 
“Tell me also what you thought were ‘good things’.”
 
A right will and a faculty of dealing rightly with impressions. 
 
“And what did you think was the end?”
 
To follow You.
 
“Do you still say that?”
 
Yes. I say the same now as before.
 
Go on then into the palace in confidence and remember these things, and you shall see how a young man who has studied what he ought compares with men who have had no study. By the gods, I imagine that you will feel thus: 
 
“Why do we make these many and great preparations for nothing? Is this what authority meant? Are the vestibule, the chamberlains, the guards no more than this? Was it for this that I listened to those long discourses? These terrors were nothing, and I made ready for them all the time as though they were great matters." 

—from Epictetus, Discourses 1.30 
 
Just as a bubbly teenager calls everyone she likes her “best friend”, so I find myself accumulating more and more Stoic passages I call my favorites. I assure you, however, that this one is definitely in my top ten . . . or maybe twenty. 
 
I can only offer the excuse that I have found Stoicism to be an eminently practical philosophy, and so the content and tone of different texts will speak to me at different hours of the day, depending upon the sort of demons I happen to be grappling with at the moment. 
 
When I am working on the principles, Marcus Aurelius usually comes to my aid, but when I am fighting in the trenches, Epictetus is regularly passing the ammunition. 
 
How often has it made sense from the comfort of my room, and then I seem to lose my resolve when I am put on the spot? This chapter does wonders for me at such times, for if I can make that critical connection between the values I cherish and the hardships I now face, then I can begin to embody that invincibility the Stoics keep talking about. 
 
I will most likely never enter an imperial palace, but I must cross paths with at least one petty tyrant each day. How shall I approach him, knowing full well that he could take away my money, ruin my reputation, or even lock me up at his leisure? This is where the rubber meets the road. 
 
While I have not yet heard a literal voice from God, the Divine is constantly speaking through the order of Nature. Whenever I must decide to act, there being no more room for equivocation, I can recite these questions, and my answers can serve as a stiff shot of courage. 
 
Does a man snatch away my property, or threaten me with pain? Now is the time to remember why I believe that the circumstances don’t define me, and that discomfort is preferable to wickedness. 
 
Do I really claim to be indifferent to what happens to me? Let me prove it by focusing on what I choose to do with what happens to me. Virtue is the only human good, vice the only human evil, and everything else stands or falls with them. 
 
So what am I going to do now? I am going to find peace in the integrity of my character, a sound mind and a loving will. I will not permit the impressions to rule over me. 
 
What possible purpose could I have in all of this? By improving my own nature, I contribute to the whole of Nature, and by finding my place in creation I am in service to the Creator. 
 
If I can do this, the things that frightened me won’t look so big and nasty after all. The book learning must become life learning. 
 
I’m not terribly good at forcing myself to memorize a passage, so I wrote this chapter out in the little notebook I carry around with me. In just a month, I have turned to it far more often than I ever expected, and I’m sure I will soon know it by heart. 

—Reflection written in 5/2001 

IMAGE: The Emperor Domitian, who banished all philosophers from Rome. 





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