But see how much I despised the shafts of your villainy. That you aimed your villainous wrongs at me, I was always aware; but that they reached me I never thought. It is true, you might think that somewhat belonging to me was tumbling down or consuming, when you were demolishing my walls, and applying your detestable torches to the roofs of my houses.
But neither I nor any man can call that our own which can be taken away, plundered, or lost. Could you have robbed me of my godlike constancy of mind, of my application, of my vigilance, and of those measures through which, to your confusion, the republic now exists; could you have abolished the eternal memory of this lasting service; far more, had you robbed me of that soul from which these designs emanated; then, indeed, I should have confessed that I had received an injury.
But as you neither did nor could do this, your persecution rendered my return glorious, but not my departure miserable. I, therefore, was always a citizen of Rome, but especially at the time when the senate charged foreign nations with my preservation as the best of her citizens.
As to you, you are at this time no citizen, unless the same person can be at once a citizen and an enemy. Can you distinguish a citizen from an enemy by the accidents of nature and place, and not by its affections and actions?
You have perpetrated a massacre in the forum, and occupied the temples with bands of armed ruffians; you have set on fire the temples of the gods and the houses of private citizens.
If you are a citizen, in what sense was Spartacus an enemy? Can you be a citizen, through whom, for a time, the state had no existence? And do you apply to me your own designation, when all mankind thought that on my departure Rome herself was gone into exile?
But neither I nor any man can call that our own which can be taken away, plundered, or lost. Could you have robbed me of my godlike constancy of mind, of my application, of my vigilance, and of those measures through which, to your confusion, the republic now exists; could you have abolished the eternal memory of this lasting service; far more, had you robbed me of that soul from which these designs emanated; then, indeed, I should have confessed that I had received an injury.
But as you neither did nor could do this, your persecution rendered my return glorious, but not my departure miserable. I, therefore, was always a citizen of Rome, but especially at the time when the senate charged foreign nations with my preservation as the best of her citizens.
As to you, you are at this time no citizen, unless the same person can be at once a citizen and an enemy. Can you distinguish a citizen from an enemy by the accidents of nature and place, and not by its affections and actions?
You have perpetrated a massacre in the forum, and occupied the temples with bands of armed ruffians; you have set on fire the temples of the gods and the houses of private citizens.
If you are a citizen, in what sense was Spartacus an enemy? Can you be a citizen, through whom, for a time, the state had no existence? And do you apply to me your own designation, when all mankind thought that on my departure Rome herself was gone into exile?
—from Cicero, Stoic Paradoxes 4
Once a man binds himself to wickedness, he wishes to live his life as a contradiction, and what could be more insane than to repudiate his very nature? He demands to receive, though he will not bow to give. He expects to be adored, yet he never offers love. He considers himself an end, while he treats others as means. His entire outlook is a paradox: rules for thee, but not for me.
He defines his worth by everything except his own character, and so he assumes that his own benefit must come at someone else’s expense. This is why he is so full of hatred, because his desire to acquire and to consume knows no bounds. Success is viewed as a series of conflicts, in which cooperation will only be the temporary mask for a cunning exploitation.
A fellow like Clodius believes himself the victor when he has destroyed an enemy’s property, rank, and privileges, but he does not understand how a genuine liberty is in the dignity of the spirit, not from the circumstances of the flesh. All the scoundrel has managed is to diminish his own excellence, even as he unwittingly offers others an opportunity to stand firmer in their convictions.
I do not think that Cicero expects this to come easily, but what a triumph it is to not become like your oppressor! Yes, while it is frustrating to lose one’s money, and painful to see one’s house burned to the ground, and downright agonizing to be exiled from one’s country, the bully can never seize another man’s integrity, the only unassailable fortress he can ever hold. Cicero did not have to be a card-carrying Stoic to understand this timeless truth.
One reason I try to stay clear of any contemporary political bickering is that such an animosity is itself a blatant betrayal of precisely what it means to be a citizen. Where there is no love of neighbor, there can be no loyalty to the state, and hating an enemy, whatever the color of his flag, is no excuse for abandoning my humanity. Do not let the demagogues trick you into believing that the good of the fashionable many requires the destruction of the inconvenient few.
Distinguish between the those who define their honor through power and those who define their honor through service. I think it no exaggeration to say that the rise or fall of whole civilizations depends upon the health of our personal virtues.
Once a man binds himself to wickedness, he wishes to live his life as a contradiction, and what could be more insane than to repudiate his very nature? He demands to receive, though he will not bow to give. He expects to be adored, yet he never offers love. He considers himself an end, while he treats others as means. His entire outlook is a paradox: rules for thee, but not for me.
He defines his worth by everything except his own character, and so he assumes that his own benefit must come at someone else’s expense. This is why he is so full of hatred, because his desire to acquire and to consume knows no bounds. Success is viewed as a series of conflicts, in which cooperation will only be the temporary mask for a cunning exploitation.
A fellow like Clodius believes himself the victor when he has destroyed an enemy’s property, rank, and privileges, but he does not understand how a genuine liberty is in the dignity of the spirit, not from the circumstances of the flesh. All the scoundrel has managed is to diminish his own excellence, even as he unwittingly offers others an opportunity to stand firmer in their convictions.
I do not think that Cicero expects this to come easily, but what a triumph it is to not become like your oppressor! Yes, while it is frustrating to lose one’s money, and painful to see one’s house burned to the ground, and downright agonizing to be exiled from one’s country, the bully can never seize another man’s integrity, the only unassailable fortress he can ever hold. Cicero did not have to be a card-carrying Stoic to understand this timeless truth.
One reason I try to stay clear of any contemporary political bickering is that such an animosity is itself a blatant betrayal of precisely what it means to be a citizen. Where there is no love of neighbor, there can be no loyalty to the state, and hating an enemy, whatever the color of his flag, is no excuse for abandoning my humanity. Do not let the demagogues trick you into believing that the good of the fashionable many requires the destruction of the inconvenient few.
Distinguish between the those who define their honor through power and those who define their honor through service. I think it no exaggeration to say that the rise or fall of whole civilizations depends upon the health of our personal virtues.
—Reflection written in 5/1999
IMAGE: Thomas Cole, The Course of Empire: Destruction (1836)
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