Seneca, Moral Letters 51.7

Those also into whose hands the rising fortunes of Rome first transferred the wealth of the state, Gaius Marius, Gnaeus Pompey, and Caesar, did indeed build villas near Baiae; but they set them on the very tops of the mountains. 
 
This seemed more soldier-like, to look down from a lofty height upon lands spread far and wide below. 
 
Note the situation, position, and type of building which they chose; you will see that they were not country-places—they were camps. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 51 

 
Such a stress on a life of austerity and restraint can easily mislead me into thinking that being rich is itself somehow contrary to the good life, when what it really means is that an inordinate attachment to being rich is the obstacle. Whether I happen to own very much or very little, the deciding factor will be in how I put to use the tools made available to me. 
 
Will I permit luxury to make me feeble, or will my resistance to its charms allow me to prove my mettle? Though they can be hard to find, I know wealthy people who still choose to live frugally, and I also known too many poor people who try to live far beyond their means. The difference is in an attitude, and the formation of habits that can fortify temperance. 
 
While the capitalist would like us to believe that the rich are the heroes, and the socialist accuses them of being the villains, both of them are mistaken, because they are starting from a misguided measure of worth—social class should not be confused with moral character. 
 
It only makes sense that greater responsibilities will often bring with them greater possessions, even as we sadly get confused about the sort of work that is the most important, and therefore the most deserving. If I have a concern about a Marius, a Pompey, or a Caesar, it shouldn’t be that they were too wealthy, it should be that they were too prideful. 
 
And Seneca, himself a rich man who understood very well the dangers of riches, is at least willing to give them credit for building their villas more like utilitarian barracks than decadent mansions. Clearly not all expense is necessarily a form of extravagance. 
 
I recall two families I knew as a child who had huge houses, and they were as different from one another as you could imagine. The first were raising a whole herd of children, while the second were clearly keen on showing off. We were encouraged to slide down the winding banister in the one home, and forbidden from sitting on the couches in the other. 
 
A life of simplicity does not require poverty, but I suspect it takes a man better than myself to manage his riches with reserve. 

—Reflection written in 4/2013 

IMAGE: Jean-Achille Benouville, View of a Roman Villa (c. 1844)