But you say, “I have had the direction of important wars, I have presided over great empires and provinces.”
Then carry about you a soul worthy of praise. A painting of Echion, or some statue of Polycletus, holds you bereft of your senses: I shall not mention from whom you took it, or by what means you possess it: but when I see you staring, gaping, and uttering cries, I look upon you to be the slave of all these follies.
You ask me, "Are not these, then, elegant amusements?"
They are: for I too have a cultivated eye; but I beseech you, let these elegances be so regarded as the playthings of boys, and not as the shackles of men.
What think you then? If Lucius Mummius, after he had expressed his contempt for all Corinth, had seen one of these men examining most eagerly a Corinthian vase, whether would he have looked upon him as an excellent citizen, or a busy appraiser?
If Manius Curius, or some of those Romans who in their villas and their houses had nothing that was costly, nothing besides themselves that was ornamental, should come to life again, and see one who had received the highest honors from the people, taking out of his tank his mullets or his carp, then handling them, and boasting of the abundance of his lampreys, would not the old Roman think that such a man was so very a slave, that he was not even fit for a very high employment in a household?
Is the slavery of those men doubtful, who from their greediness for wealth spurn no condition of the hardest servitude? To what meanness of slavery will not the hope of succeeding to an estate make a man stoop? What gesture of the childless rich old fellow does he not observe? He frames his words to his inclination; he does whatever is commanded him; he courts him, he sits by him, he makes him presents. What of these is the part of a free man? What, indeed, is not the mark of an abject slave.
Then carry about you a soul worthy of praise. A painting of Echion, or some statue of Polycletus, holds you bereft of your senses: I shall not mention from whom you took it, or by what means you possess it: but when I see you staring, gaping, and uttering cries, I look upon you to be the slave of all these follies.
You ask me, "Are not these, then, elegant amusements?"
They are: for I too have a cultivated eye; but I beseech you, let these elegances be so regarded as the playthings of boys, and not as the shackles of men.
What think you then? If Lucius Mummius, after he had expressed his contempt for all Corinth, had seen one of these men examining most eagerly a Corinthian vase, whether would he have looked upon him as an excellent citizen, or a busy appraiser?
If Manius Curius, or some of those Romans who in their villas and their houses had nothing that was costly, nothing besides themselves that was ornamental, should come to life again, and see one who had received the highest honors from the people, taking out of his tank his mullets or his carp, then handling them, and boasting of the abundance of his lampreys, would not the old Roman think that such a man was so very a slave, that he was not even fit for a very high employment in a household?
Is the slavery of those men doubtful, who from their greediness for wealth spurn no condition of the hardest servitude? To what meanness of slavery will not the hope of succeeding to an estate make a man stoop? What gesture of the childless rich old fellow does he not observe? He frames his words to his inclination; he does whatever is commanded him; he courts him, he sits by him, he makes him presents. What of these is the part of a free man? What, indeed, is not the mark of an abject slave.
—from Cicero, Stoic Paradoxes 5
I do not know if it was right for Lucius Mummius to sack Corinth, or for Scipio Aemilianus to raze Carthage, just as I question whether it was right for the Allies to carpet-bomb German civilians, but I do know that a man who fights for his country’s honor does not let himself get sidetracked by adding to his collection of swanky art.
I do not know if the Romans from the early years, like Manius Curius, were more frugal and disciplined than the Romans from the later years, just as I am suspicious when an old codger berates a young pipsqueak for being lazy, but I do know that a man who cares for his character does not fret over what wine will pair best with his dinner.
Over the years, I have crossed paths with many who thought very highly of themselves, and who never missed the opportunity to proclaim the grandest of ideals. When the going got tough, however, they were nowhere to be found, unwilling to surrender their creature comforts for the sake of any genuine convictions. The affectations of culture and refinement are no substitute for an informed conscience, just as the vain ambition to be respected will inevitably clash with the solemn duty to offer respect.
In the business realm, there are the slick wheeler-dealers, who flaunt their achievements at every turn, charm you when you are convenient, and ignore you completely once you are no longer of any use to them. Yet when you look behind the opulence and the titles, they will suddenly seem so very small.
In the scholarly realm, there are the intellectual dandies, who quote from brooding novels, scent their beards, and smoke a churchwarden pipe to appear like Bilbo Baggins. Though they may not steal your money, they will feed off your attention, the haughtiness slipping away as soon as their pretensions are exposed.
Nothing good will ever come from despising them, but I must always remember to never become like them. If I wish to elevate myself, there can be no reliance on props, and no treading on others in order to gain the advantage. It is liberating to realize how the folks who display the most confidence are the ones who depend so thoroughly on everything except their own virtues. This is why the Stoic recognizes them to be slaves.
This will offend them tremendously, of course, which is a clue that you have shattered the illusion. If they truly believe they can thrive without leaning on fortune, challenge them to spend a month, or even a week, without any of their amenities, which will quickly reveal themselves to be the heaviest of chains. It will be more painful than a drunk going off the sauce cold turkey.
I do not know if it was right for Lucius Mummius to sack Corinth, or for Scipio Aemilianus to raze Carthage, just as I question whether it was right for the Allies to carpet-bomb German civilians, but I do know that a man who fights for his country’s honor does not let himself get sidetracked by adding to his collection of swanky art.
I do not know if the Romans from the early years, like Manius Curius, were more frugal and disciplined than the Romans from the later years, just as I am suspicious when an old codger berates a young pipsqueak for being lazy, but I do know that a man who cares for his character does not fret over what wine will pair best with his dinner.
Over the years, I have crossed paths with many who thought very highly of themselves, and who never missed the opportunity to proclaim the grandest of ideals. When the going got tough, however, they were nowhere to be found, unwilling to surrender their creature comforts for the sake of any genuine convictions. The affectations of culture and refinement are no substitute for an informed conscience, just as the vain ambition to be respected will inevitably clash with the solemn duty to offer respect.
In the business realm, there are the slick wheeler-dealers, who flaunt their achievements at every turn, charm you when you are convenient, and ignore you completely once you are no longer of any use to them. Yet when you look behind the opulence and the titles, they will suddenly seem so very small.
In the scholarly realm, there are the intellectual dandies, who quote from brooding novels, scent their beards, and smoke a churchwarden pipe to appear like Bilbo Baggins. Though they may not steal your money, they will feed off your attention, the haughtiness slipping away as soon as their pretensions are exposed.
Nothing good will ever come from despising them, but I must always remember to never become like them. If I wish to elevate myself, there can be no reliance on props, and no treading on others in order to gain the advantage. It is liberating to realize how the folks who display the most confidence are the ones who depend so thoroughly on everything except their own virtues. This is why the Stoic recognizes them to be slaves.
This will offend them tremendously, of course, which is a clue that you have shattered the illusion. If they truly believe they can thrive without leaning on fortune, challenge them to spend a month, or even a week, without any of their amenities, which will quickly reveal themselves to be the heaviest of chains. It will be more painful than a drunk going off the sauce cold turkey.
—Reflection written in 5/1999
IMAGE: Nils Dardel, The Dying Dandy (1918)
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