Seneca, Moral Letters 40.1

Letter 40: On the proper style for a philosopher’s discourse
 
I thank you for writing to me so often; for you are revealing your real self to me in the only way you can. 
 
I never receive a letter from you without being in your company forthwith. If the pictures of our absent friends are pleasing to us, though they only refresh the memory and lighten our longing by a solace that is unreal and unsubstantial, how much more pleasant is a letter, which brings us real traces, real evidences, of an absent friend! 
 
For that which is sweetest when we meet face to face is afforded by the impress of a friend's hand upon his letter—recognition. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 40 
 
I am unfortunately inclined to becoming cynical about friendship, because most of the people I know are quite mercenary in their affections, trading a gratification for a convenience, or only offering their time when they spy a prospect for getting ahead.
 
Yet I resist such a temptation, for it says far more about my own poor choices in company than it does about any universal human condition. As with all things Stoic, let me modify my thinking, turn things around, and find a better way to redirect that energy. 
 
Given our nature as creatures of judgment and choice, it should come as no surprise that we are capable of both great virtues and great vices. Now regardless of what others may decide, which way will I go? I would be well-advised to seek out those who are on a similar path, and then I won’t be so dismayed and resentful about conflicting values. 
 
And yes, there are still many people out there who revere a friendship grounded in mutual love, and who are sincere in their desire to give of themselves without condition. They may not be as visible, since they are not interested in showing off, but they are waiting just as I am, just as you might be, to share the load. 
 
When I come across a passage like this one, I take a moment to savor it. I ignore the snickering of those who claim it’s all about getting sex or gaining favor, and I appreciate how Nature made us to work together in true fellowship. A relationship will be as good and as pure as the character that stands behind it. I know what my pick must be. 
 
Though it may well change again, as the ways of the world inevitably change, my generation was the last to write letters, and even then, I was one of the few who still threw himself into the task wholeheartedly. 
 
I probably wrote thousands, most of them by hand, almost all of them so long they required that extra postage stamp. Many of them were full of thoughts and feelings I now recognize as naïve, yet I would still insist that none of them were wasted. While I often chose the recipients of my attentions unwisely, it was learning to be rejected that ultimately helped me to respect myself. 
 
I know full well how Seneca felt when he pored over the words of a dear friend. If a physical presence is not possible, putting pen to paper can serve as a spiritual presence. 
 
The appeal to human solidarity was one of the first things that drew me to Stoicism, and it remains one of my greatest comforts now. 

—Reflection written in 1/2013 

IMAGE: Gerard ter Borch, Young Man Reading (c. 1680) 

Patience and Grief

John Roddam Spencer Stanhope, Patience on a Monument Smiling at Grief (1884) 

Sayings of Heraclitus 67

It rests by changing. 

IMAGE: Andreas Cellarius, Model of the Orbits of the Planets (1660) 

Sayings of Publilius Syrus 94

We are anxious to avoid the faults which we are ashamed to have committed. 

Seneca, Moral Letters 39.3

What enemy was ever so insolent to any opponent as are their pleasures to certain men? The only excuse that we can allow for the incontinence and mad lust of these men is the fact that they suffer the evils which they have inflicted upon others. 

And they are rightly harassed by this madness, because desire must have unbounded space for its excursions, if it transgresses nature's mean. For this has its bounds, but waywardness and the acts that spring from willful lust are without boundaries. 
 
Utility measures our needs; but by what standard can you check the superfluous? It is for this reason that men sink themselves in pleasures, and they cannot do without them when once they have become accustomed to them, and for this reason they are most wretched, because they have reached such a pass that what was once superfluous to them has become indispensable. 
 
And so they are the slaves of their pleasures instead of enjoying them; they even love their own ills—and that is the worst ill of all! 
 
Then it is that the height of unhappiness is reached, when men are not only attracted, but even pleased, by shameful things, and when there is no longer any room for a cure, now that those things which once were vices have become habits. Farewell. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 39 
 
I may think that my suffering is unfair, but I am sorely mistaken. Perhaps it was given to me as a reminder of my failings, and so I might overcome it by finally improving myself. Nature never acts without just cause, such that a pain is a sign that something is amiss, and an emotional pain, in my experience the absolute worst sort, is telling me to modify my thinking about who I am and why I am here. 
 
Does something feel wrong? Then it is time to do right. 
 
James Stockdale once described it as “the reliability of the retribution of the guilty conscience”, which is a contemporary way of saying that we get exactly what we pay for, that a man always brings his worst punishments upon himself. 
 
Do I feel resentful about a scoundrel running away with something I consider to be rightfully mine? Am I jealous of his many pleasures? I should reconsider my opinion, because the very fact that he is so grasping is a sign of his urgent need, and the extent of his bitterness points directly to his deepest misery. Why would I ever wish to be such a wretched man? Instead of condemning him, I am called to pity him, and to offer him my hand. 
 
An addiction to pleasure, or to domination, or to self-importance is the worst sort of bondage. For every injury inflicted on another’s circumstances, the predator stabs deeply into his own heart. He is quite helpless, since his lusts have no limits—he will never be satisfied by the accumulation of trophies. 
 
I look at the things I say I need to be happy, and almost all of them are extraneous, mere expressions of my vanity. As I rely upon them more and more, I transform myself into a slave, even as I insist that I am free. No, I am quite aware of the trap, though I’m not sure how to escape from it. 
 
How quickly diversions become necessities, and luxuries are confused with requirements! When I wake in the morning, I now ask myself how I can make do with less, rather than making a scene about how I have been denied the right to consume more. If I don’t do this deliberately, I find myself treating my worst vices as if they were entitlements. Like karma, habit’s a bitch. 
 
When Adam delved and Eve span, 
who was then the gentleman? 
 
Nobility is in the mind and the heart, not in the paraphernalia. 

—Reflection written in 1/2013 

Delphic Maxims 3

Θεοὺς σέβου 

Revere the Gods 

IMAGE: Giulio Romano, The Assembly of Gods Around Jupiter's Throne (c. 1534) 

Sayings of Ramakrishna 190

When the grace of the Almighty descends, every one will understand his mistakes; knowing this you should not dispute. 

IMAGE: Auguste Rodin, Eve After the Fall (1907) 

Tidbits from Montaigne 49

I will follow the good side right to the fire, but not into it if I can help it. 

—Michel de Montaigne, Essays 3.1 

Seneca, Moral Letters 39.2

No man of exalted gifts is pleased with that which is low and mean; the vision of great achievement summons him and uplifts him. 
 
Just as the flame springs straight into the air and cannot be cabined or kept down any more than it can repose in quiet, so our soul is always in motion, and the more ardent it is, the greater its motion and activity. 
 
But happy is the man who has given it this impulse toward better things! He will place himself beyond the jurisdiction of chance; he will wisely control prosperity; he will lessen adversity, and will despise what others hold in admiration. 
 
It is the quality of a great soul to scorn great things and to prefer that which is ordinary rather than that which is too great. For the one condition is useful and life-giving; but the other does harm just because it is excessive. 
 
Similarly, too rich a soil makes the grain fall flat, branches break down under too heavy a load, excessive productiveness does not bring fruit to ripeness. 
 
This is the case with the soul also; for it is ruined by uncontrolled prosperity, which is used not only to the detriment of others, but also to the detriment of itself. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 39 
 
People often speak about becoming great, though they are usually referring to the breadth of their circumstances, not to the depth of their characters. If I hear any talk about honor and glory, it tends to come down to putting on a show instead of standing up for a principle. Where a standard of nobility should be about the virtue of our actions, it is too easily mistaken for the accidents of birth and breeding.
 
We are all made for excellence, each and every one of us, and yet the acquisition of fortune and fame has nothing to do with the improvement of our souls. Indeed, how could I ever believe that messing about with the things out there will in any way increase the dignity in here? How foolish it is to think that their movements correspond to my own worth! They will come and go on their own terms, and in the meantime, I will have built nothing that is truly my own.
 
I can only strive for a human greatness by rising above the limitations of my conditions. The less I esteem the trappings of riches and influence, the more I grow in the one power that matters for me, the capacity to rule myself. I should be exceptional in the value of my thoughts, words, and deeds, while being quite unremarkable in the prestige of my surroundings. 
 
John the Baptist had it right when he knew he must decrease. Lao Tzu was on to something when he advised us to be small in order to be big. Socrates correctly warned against thinking it possible to trade wisdom for money. As the flame reaches upwards, it does not demand a recognition for its light or compare its heat to any of the countless other fires that burn. It does its own work, and it is perfectly content with that. 
 
The Stoic does not hate worldly prosperity at all, even as he is extremely wary of his own attachment to such a state of affairs. If he depends on what he gets, he is no longer focused on what he can give. Where his attention is on filling his pockets, he limits his ability to move about with liberty. When his head gets too big, it is certain to weigh him down, even to snap his little neck. 
 
What will likely become of me if I dwell on the superficial? I don’t need to speculate, because I have seen it happen within myself, even if only on the slightest scale. The priorities I choose will determine the sort of man I turn into, and there is nothing grand about hunting after pennies and sucking up for favors. 
 
Avarice kills nobility. It delays others from finding their way, and it cripples any chance I have of maturing into a creature of understanding and love. 

—Reflection written in 1/2013 

Epictetus, Golden Sayings 163

Piety toward the Gods, to be sure, consists chiefly in thinking rightly concerning them—that they are, and that they govern the Universe with goodness and justice; and that you yourself are appointed to obey them, and to submit under all circumstances that arise; acquiescing cheerfully in whatever may happen, sure it is brought to pass and accomplished by the most Perfect Understanding. 

Thus you will never find fault with the Gods, nor charge them with neglecting you. 

The Court of Death

George Frederic Watts, The Court of Death (c. 1880)

Life's Illusions

George Frederic Watts, Life's Illusions (1849)

Chaos

George Frederic Watts, Chaos (c. 1880)

Stoic Snippets 178

If you are pained by any external thing, it is not this thing that disturbs you, but your own judgment about it. 

And it is in your power to wipe out this judgment now. 

But if anything in your own disposition gives you pain, who hinders you from correcting your opinion? 

And even if you are pained because you are not doing some particular thing which seems to you to be right, why do you not rather act than complain? 

"But some insuperable obstacle is in the way!" 

Do not be grieved then, for the cause of its not being done depends not on you. 

"But it is not worthwhile to live, if this cannot be done!" 

Take your departure then from life contentedly, just as he dies who is in full activity, and well pleased too with the things which are obstacles. 

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 8.47 

IMAGE: Jules-Élie Delaunay, The Plague in Rome (1869) 

The Labors of Hercules 5

Detail from a Roman mosaic, Hercules Cleans the Augean Stables by Rerouting the Rivers Alpheus and Peneus (3rd century AD) 

Francisco de Zurbaran, Hercules Diverting the Course of the River Alpheus (1634) 

Anonymous, The Stables of Augeas (1808) 

Seneca, Moral Letters 39.1

Letter 39: On noble aspirations 
 
I shall indeed arrange for you, in careful order and narrow compass, the notes which you request. But consider whether you may not get more help from the customary method than from that which is now commonly called a "breviary," though in the good old days, when real Latin was spoken, it was called a "summary." The former is more necessary to one who is learning a subject, the latter to one who knows it. For the one teaches, the other stirs the memory. 
 
But I shall give you abundant opportunity for both. A man like you should not ask me for this authority or that; he who furnishes a voucher for his statements argues himself unknown. 
 
I shall therefore write exactly what you wish, but I shall do it in my own way; until then, you have many authors whose works will presumably keep your ideas sufficiently in order. 
 
Pick up the list of the philosophers; that very act will compel you to wake up, when you see how many men have been working for your benefit. You will desire eagerly to be one of them yourself. For this is the most excellent quality that the noble soul has within itself, that it can be roused to honorable things. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 39 
 
Back when I was in the fourth grade, my father came home from the office with a set of what I called “cheat sheets”, though they were more properly described as “study guides” or “reference cards”. I was deeply impressed with them at the time, thick slabs of plastic, complete with punched holes ready for a three-ring binder, crammed front and back with tiny text on a variety of topics. 
 
There was one with lists of formulas for algebra, another with geometrical theorems, then a summary of various laws of physics, a compendium for rules of grammar, and a whole series with events and dates from different historical periods. I carried them around in my notebook for some time, feeling quite knowledgeable as a result. 
 
The problem was that if you didn’t already understand how the subjects worked, these “guides” were just confusing, and if you had previously learned the content, then you didn’t really need the crib notes to begin with. At best, they were an aid for recollection, at worst, a worthless diversion. They taught me how repetition and comprehension are hardly the same thing. 
 
Later, we joked that they should make one for philosophy, but the “academic” publishers were well ahead of us. Here are some important names, and a few fancy terms, and you too can claim to be wise! I was ashamed when my comprehensive exams followed this unfortunate model, and merely involved parroting specific phrases dictated to me by my professors. 
 
When Lucilius asks for some notes to help him with philosophy, I am certainly sympathetic, because I know how important it can be to have a framework to build upon, a support for reference, or a way to tickle the memory. Nevertheless, any tricks for encouragement can never replace the work of forming my own judgments. If I can’t explain it on my own terms, I certainly don’t know it; if I am relying on a crutch, I’m not walking under my own power. 
 
Wherever life takes me, and whatever trade I may pursue, my first calling is to be human, and that demands a commitment to a good will informed by the exercise of sound reason. There are no shortcuts. Philosophy, rightly understood and in its most immediate sense, is the task of being my own man, and having the awareness to back it up. 
 
I might be able to dupe my boss into thinking I know how to write code, yet I can’t deceive my own conscience into pretending to know true from false, right from wrong. If I have not demonstrated the why, the promotion of the what is simply a game of bluster. 
 
Yes, I read from the established philosophers each and every day, yet they are not changing me—they are occasions for me to change myself. Seneca speaks here about becoming a noble soul, and it helps me to distinguish between a nobility of character, which is self-made, and a cheap reliance on the glory of others, which is a lazy substitute. However annoying it is to hear, “Show your own work!” is a worthy challenge. 
 
Turn to the wise as an inspiration to be wise yourself. Therein lies nobility. Crib notes won’t cut it. 

—Reflection written in 1/2013 

IMAGE: If you can zoom in, you might see how shallow, and tedious, the crib notes make philosophy appear. Do the right thing, however, and buy a copy online, for just a few dollars, and you may then wish to have it framed, as a reminder of the sort of lifeless drudgery you desperately wish to avoid . . . 

Dhammapada 277-279

"All created things perish," he who knows and sees this becomes passive in pain; this is the way to purity. 

"All created things are grief and pain," he who knows and sees this becomes passive in pain; this is the way that leads to purity. 

"All forms are unreal," he who knows and sees this becomes passive in pain; this is the way that leads to purity. 

IMAGE by Lenore Krinsky (2008) 

Giorgio Vasari, Justice

Giorgio Vasari, Allegory of Justice (1543) 

I have a great fondness for artistic allegories, and I owe a good part of my interest to a handful of teachers who still taught me how certain symbols were traditionally used to represent concepts to the viewer. This sort of visual language is largely lost to us now, though I hope there may be a few who can keep it going for some future generation. 

There is something especially beautiful to learning about truths through images as well as words. 

This particular work by Vasari is just packed with such symbols, and I am still discovering new ones many years after I first saw the painting.  

Justice herself is partly nude to reflect her purity, not to dwell on any sexual qualities. We tend to see what we already are. 

The ostrich, with its long neck, represents patience. 

The little putti are carrying her weapons and armor to her, just in case we thought she was helpless. 

To her left is Father Time, an old man with wings and and an hourglass on his head, who is in turn presenting Truth to be crowned with a wreath by Justice. 

Truth carries two doves, as symbols of innocence. 

The chains on Justice's belt are tying down seven vices, though their specific identities are only revealed by some subtle clues: 

Corruption is staring downwards at a pile at of riches, instead of upwards at Justice. 

Ignorance is accompanied by a donkey. 

Cruelty shows her priorities by turning her back. 

Truth herself is crushing Slander and Falsehood, and her innocent doves are smothering Treason and Fear. 

The tablets of Romulus by her right side represent the ancient tradition of law, while the book above the globe stands for the Law of Moses, and the green and red books below her foot indicate the complementarity of civil and canon law. 

The animal on her scepter is a hippopotamus, which legend had it would eat its own mother, and so tells us how Justice shows no prejudice. It took an old medievalist to finally explain that one to me, complete with the support of multiple examples from some dusty bestiaries. 

—6/2007 

Sayings of Publilius Syrus 93

Falsities are quick to appear in their true character. 

Sayings of Bias

Bias of Priene (c. 600-530 BC) was perhaps best known as a righteous lawyer, which is a breath of fresh air for those of us who mainly seem to come across the wicked variety. Due to his fine reputation, a just legal outcome was referred to as a "Prienian decision". 

He is said to have ransomed a group of young women who had been made prisoners of war, raised them as his own daughters, gave them dowries, and then returned them to their fathers in Messenia. 

On another occasion, when Priene was being besieged by Alyattes, Bias fattened up some mules and arranged for them to be released into the enemy camp. When Alyattes then sent negotiators to Priene, Bias covered a pile of dirt with a layer of grain, and so confirmed the impression that the city was well-supplied. 

Bias died at a ripe old age. After pleading his last case, he rested his tired head on his grandson's chest, and was found to have passed away when the decision in his favor was read. 

Find favor with all the citizens, in whatever state you dwell. 

The growth of strength in man is nature's work; but to set forth in speech the interests of one's country is the gift of soul and reason. 

Even chance brings abundance of wealth to many. 

He who cannot bear misfortune is truly unfortunate. 

It is a disease of the soul to be enamored of things impossible of attainment. 

We ought not to dwell upon the woes of others. 

Being asked what is difficult, Bias replied, "Nobly to endure a change for the worse." 

Bias was once on a voyage with some impious men; and, when a storm was encountered, even they began to call upon the gods for help. "Peace!" said he, "lest they hear and become aware that you are here in the ship." 

When an impious man asked Bias to define piety, he was silent; and when the other inquired the reason, "I am silent," he replied, "because you are asking questions about what does not concern you." 

Being asked "What is sweet to men," Bias answered, "Hope." 

Bias said he would rather decide a dispute between two of his enemies than between two of his friends; for in the latter case he would be certain to make one of his friends his enemy, but in the former case he would make one of his enemies his friend. 

Asked what occupation gives a man most pleasure, Bias replied, "Making money." 

Bias advised men to measure life as if they had both a short and a long time to live; to love their friends as if they would some day hate them, the majority of mankind being bad. 

Further, Bias gave this advice: Be slow to set about an enterprise, but persevere in it steadfastly when once it is undertaken. Do not be hasty of speech, for that is a sign of madness. 

Cherish wisdom. Admit the existence of the gods. If a man is unworthy, do not praise him because of his wealth. 

Gain your point by persuasion, not by force. 

Ascribe your good actions to the gods. 

I carry all my effects with me. 

Make wisdom your provision for the journey from youth to old age; for it is a more certain support than all other possessions. 

You should look into a mirror: if you look fine, do fine things; if you look ugly, correct by nobility the defect of your nature.