Letter XLV: On Sophistical Argumentation

In the letter 45 Sêneca talks about the sophist school and defines it as a futile exercise:

They lost much time in quibbling about words and in sophistical argumentation; all that sort of thing exercises the wit to no purpose. We tie knots and bind up words in double meanings, and then try to untie them. Have we leisure enough for this? Do we already know how to live, or die? ” (XLV, 5)

It sums up that not knowing sophisms does no harm, and mastering them does no good, the main message is to focus on the important, letting the pointless pass:

…teach us that the happy man is not he whom the crowd deems happy, namely, he into whose coffers mighty sums have flowed, but he whose possessions are all in his soul, who is upright and exalted, who spurns inconstancy, who sees no man with whom he wishes to change places, who rates men only at their value as men, who takes Nature for his teacher, conforming to her laws and living as she commands, whom no violence can deprive of his possessions, who turns evil into good, is unerring in judgment, unshaken, unafraid, who may be moved by force but never moved to distraction, whom Fortune when she hurls at him with all her might the deadliest missile in her armoury, may graze, though rarely, but never wound.“(XLV, 9)

In the text, Sêneca uses a very interesting expression: “But I must not exceed the bounds of a letter, which ought not to fill the reader’s left hand.”  This observation is valid when such a letter is written on papyrus rolls, unrolled with the right hand while the left hand collects the part that has already been read.

(image: Democritus (center) and Protagoras (right) 17th-century painting by Salvator Rosa. Protagoras’ statement that, “Man is the measure of all things” was interpreted by Plato to mean that there is no objective truth.)


XLV. On Sophistical Argumentation

1. You complain that in your part of the world there is a scant supply of books. But it is quality, rather than quantity, that matters; a limited list of reading benefits; a varied assortment serves only for delight. He who would arrive at the appointed end must follow a single road and not wander through many ways. What you suggest is not travelling; it is mere tramping.

2. “But,” you say, “I should rather have you give me advice than books.” Still, I am ready to send you all the books I have, to ransack the whole storehouse. If it were possible, I should join you there myself; and were it not for the hope that you will soon complete your term of office, I should have imposed upon myself this old man’s journey; no Scylla or Charybdis or their storied straits could have frightened me away. I should not only have crossed over, but should have been willing to swim over those waters, provided that I could greet you and judge in your presence how much you had grown in spirit.

3. Your desire, however, that I should dispatch to you my own writings does not make me think myself learned, any more than a request for my picture would flatter my beauty. I know that it is due to your charity rather than to your judgment. And even if it is the result of judgment, it was charity that forced the judgment upon you.

4. But whatever the quality of my works may be, read them as if I were still seeking, and were not aware of, the truth, and were seeking it obstinately, too. For I have sold myself to no man; I bear the name of no master. I give much credit to the judgment of great men; but I claim something also for my own. For these men, too, have left to us, not positive discoveries, but problems whose solution is still to be sought. They might perhaps have discovered the essentials, had they not sought the superfluous also.

5. They lost much time in quibbling about words and in sophistical argumentation; all that sort of thing exercises the wit to no purpose. We tie knots and bind up words in double meanings, and then try to untie them. Have we leisure enough for this? Do we already know how to live, or die? We should rather proceed with our whole souls towards the point where it is our duty to take heed lest things, as well as words, deceive us.

6. Why, pray, do you discriminate between similar words, when nobody is ever deceived by them except during the discussion? It is things that lead us astray: it is between things that you must discriminate. We embrace evil instead of good; we pray for something opposite to that which we have prayed for in the past. Our prayers clash with our prayers, our plans with our plans.

7. How closely flattery resembles friendship! It not only apes friendship, but outdoes it, passing it in the race; with wide-open and indulgent ears it is welcomed and sinks to the depths of the heart, and it is pleasing precisely wherein it does harm. Show me how I may be able to see through this resemblance! An enemy comes to me full of compliments, in the guise of a friend. Vices creep into our hearts under the name of virtues, rashness lurks beneath the appellation of bravery, moderation is called sluggishness, and the coward is regarded as prudent; there is great danger if we go astray in these matters. So stamp them with special labels.

8. Then, too, the man who is asked whether he has horns on his head[1] is not such a fool as to feel for them on his forehead, nor again so silly or dense that you can persuade him by means of argumentation, no matter how subtle, that he does not know the facts. Such quibbles are just as harmlessly deceptive as the juggler’s cup and dice, in which it is the very trickery that pleases me. But show me how the trick is done, and I have lost my interest therein. And I hold the same opinion about these tricky word-plays; for by what other name can one call such sophistries? Not to know them does no harm, and mastering them does no good.

9. At any rate, if you wish to sift doubtful meanings of this kind, teach us that the happy man is not he whom the crowd deems happy, namely, he into whose coffers mighty sums have flowed, but he whose possessions are all in his soul, who is upright and exalted, who spurns inconstancy, who sees no man with whom he wishes to change places, who rates men only at their value as men, who takes Nature for his teacher, conforming to her laws and living as she commands, whom no violence can deprive of his possessions, who turns evil into good, is unerring in judgment, unshaken, unafraid, who may be moved by force but never moved to distraction, whom Fortune when she hurls at him with all her might the deadliest missile in her armoury, may graze, though rarely, but never wound. For Fortune’s other missiles, with which she vanquishes mankind in general, rebound from such a one, like hail which rattles on the roof with no harm to the dweller therein, and then melts away.

10. Why do you bore me with that which you yourself call the “liar” fallacy,[2] about which so many books have been written? Come now, suppose that my whole life is a lie; prove that to be wrong and, if you are sharp enough, bring that back to the truth. At present it holds things to be essential of which the greater part is superfluous. And even that which is not superfluous is of no significance in respect to its power of making one fortunate and blest. For if a thing be necessary, it does not follow that it is a good. Else we degrade the meaning of “good,” if we apply that name to bread and barley-porridge and other commodities without which we cannot live.

11. The good must in every case be necessary; but that which is necessary is not in every case a good, since certain very paltry things are indeed necessary. No one is to such an extent ignorant of the noble meaning of the word “good,” as to debase it to the level of these humdrum utilities.

12. What, then? Shall you not rather transfer your efforts to making it clear to all men that the search for the superfluous means a great outlay of time, and that many have gone through life merely accumulating the instruments of life? Consider individuals, survey men in general; there is none whose life does not look forward to the morrow.

13. “What harm is there in this,” you ask? Infinite harm; for such persons do not live, but are preparing to live. They postpone everything. Even if we paid strict attention, life would soon get ahead of us; but as we are now, life finds us lingering and passes us by as if it belonged to another, and though it ends on the final day, it perishes every day. But I must not exceed the bounds of a letter, which ought not to fill the reader’s left hand.[3] So I shall postpone to another day our case against the hair-splitters, those over-subtle fellows who make argumentation supreme instead of subordinate.

Farewell

Footnotes

  1.  Cf. Gellius, xviii. 2. 9 quod non perdidisti, habes; cornua non perdidisti; habes igitur cornua; cf. also Seneca, Ep. xlviii.
  2.  e.g. Gellius, xviii. 2. 10 cum mentior et mentiri me dico, mentior an verum dico?
  3.  A book was unrolled with the right hand; the reader gathered up the part already perused with the left hand. Nearly all books at this time were papyrus rolls, as were letters of any great length.

Letter XLIV. On Philosophy and Pedigrees

The letter 44 is quite significant for the present days where it is common to complain about the “privileges” of others and play the victim, that is, just like Lucilius did 2000 years ago.

Seneca’s response is excellent, and contains two parts:

  1. That we are all equal:

Philosophy neither rejects nor selects anyone; its light shines for all.  Socrates was no aristocrat. Cleanthes worked at a well and served as a hired man watering a garden. Philosophy did not find Plato already a nobleman; it made him one.” (XLIV, 2-3)

  1. That we seek happiness in the wrong place, that is, in external things, in material goods:

Where, then, lies the mistake, since all men crave the happy life? It is that they regard the means for producing happiness as happiness itself, and, while seeking happiness, they are really fleeing from it. (…) This is what happens when you hurry through a maze; the faster you go, the worse you are entangled.” (XLIV, 7)

(Image: Death of Socrates by Jacques-Louis David)


XLIV. On Philosophy and Pedigrees

1. You are again insisting to me that you are a nobody, and saying that nature in the first place, and fortune in the second, have treated you too scurvily, and this in spite of the fact that you have it in your power to separate yourself from the crowd and rise to the highest human happiness! If there is any good in philosophy, it is this, – that it never looks into pedigrees. All men, if traced back to their original source, spring from the gods.

2. You are a Roman knight, and your persistent work promoted you to this class; yet surely there are many to whom the fourteen rows are barred;[1] the senate-chamber is not open to all; the army, too, is scrupulous in choosing those whom it admits to toil and danger. But a noble mind is free to all men; according to this test, we may all gain distinction. Philosophy neither rejects nor selects anyone; its light shines for all.

3. Socrates was no aristocrat. Cleanthes worked at a well and served as a hired man watering a garden. Philosophy did not find Plato already a nobleman; it made him one. Why then should you despair of becoming able to rank with men like these? They are all your ancestors, if you conduct yourself in a manner worthy of them; and you will do so if you convince yourself at the outset that no man outdoes you in real nobility.

4. We have all had the same number of forefathers; there is no man whose first beginning does not transcend memory. Plato says: “Every king springs from a race of slaves, and every slave has had kings among his ancestors.”[2]The flight of time, with its vicissitudes, has jumbled all such things together, and Fortune has turned them upside down.

5. Then who is well-born? He who is by nature well fitted for virtue. That is the one point to be considered; otherwise, if you hark back to antiquity, every one traces back to a date before which there is nothing. From the earliest beginnings of the universe to the present time, we have been led forward out of origins that were alternately illustrious and ignoble. A hall full of smoke-begrimed busts does not make the nobleman. No past life has been lived to lend us glory, and that which has existed before us is not ours; the soul alone renders us noble, and it may rise superior to Fortune out of any earlier condition, no matter what that condition has been.[3]

6. Suppose, then, that you were not a Roman knight, but a freedman, you might nevertheless by your own efforts come to be the only free man amid a throng of gentlemen. “How?” you ask. Simply by distinguishing between good and bad things without patterning your opinion from the populace. You should look, not to the source from which these things come, but to the goal towards which they tend. If there is anything that can make life happy, it is good on its own merits; for it cannot degenerate into evil.

7. Where, then, lies the mistake, since all men crave the happy life? It is that they regard the means for producing happiness as happiness itself, and, while seeking happiness, they are really fleeing from it. For although the sum and substance of the happy life is unalloyed freedom from care, and though the secret of such freedom is unshaken confidence, yet men gather together that which causes worry, and, while travelling life’s treacherous road, not only have burdens to bear, but even draw burdens to themselves; hence they recede farther and farther from the achievement of that which they seek, and the more effort they expend, the more they hinder themselves and are set back. This is what happens when you hurry through a maze; the faster you go, the worse you are entangled.

Farewell

Footnotes

  1.  Alluding to seats reserved for the knights at the theatre.
  2.  Plato, Theaetetus, p. 174 E.
  3.  Compare with the whole argument Menander, Frag. 533 Kock, ending: ὂς ἂν εὖ γεγονὼς ᾖ τῇ φύσει πρὸς τἀγαθά, κἂν Αἰθίοψ ᾖ, μῆτερ, ἐστὶν εὐγενής.

Letter XXXIX. On Noble Aspirations

How does a request for philosophical notations lead to a description of the process of moral depravity caused by success? Lucilius asks for a breviarium, that is, a summary of the philosophy, but Seneca sends him a sumarium, that is, a list of authors that he must read in its entirety.

The core of the stoic philosophy is not about learning theories, but about a desire to imitate the good philosophers. The desire is fundamental to this letter:

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 honourable things. No man of exalted gifts is pleased with that which is low and mean.” (XXXIX, 2)

Seneca exposes stoic visions about excess and pleasures. The stoics believed that excessive and irrational passions or impulses were, or arose from, false judgment. A wise man, that is, a person who had attained moral and intellectual perfection, would not experience them for long, because he would have eliminated all false beliefs.

The concern with the risks of success and prosperity was common at the time, but it is not a concern that attracts much attention today. Seneca criticizes ideas about wealth that are still common today. These ideas value material abundance and, as Seneca says of luxury, economic growth has become an end in itself. The system works by increasing consumption. However, the problems this system causes cannot be solved by economic means, but by a change in attitude, however unlikely it is. Seneca advocates:

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;” (XXXIX, 6)

Image: Benedictine Breviary of the 15th century


XXXIX. On Noble Aspirations

1. 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[1] 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.”[2] 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.[3] A man like you should not ask me for this authority or that; he who furnishes a voucher for his statements argues himself unknown. 

2. 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 honourable things. No man of exalted gifts is pleased with that which is low and mean; the vision of great achievement summons him and uplifts him. 

3. 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. 

4. 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. 

5. 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 wilful lust are without boundaries. 

6. 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,[4] – 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.

Footnotes

  1.  The regular method of studying philosophy was, as we infer from this letter, a course of reading in the philosophers. Seneca deprecates the use of the “cram” which is only a memory-help, as a substitute for reading, on the ground that by its use one does not, in the first place, learn the subject, and, in the second place and chiefly, that one loses the inspiration to be derived by direct contact with great thinkers. The request of Lucilius for a cram thus suggests the main topic of the letter, which is taken up in the second paragraph.
  2.  i.e., the word breviarium, “abridgment,” “abstract,” has displaced the better word summarium, “outline of chief points.”
  3.  i.e., to do the reading and to review it by means of the summary. The reading will enable Lucilius to identify for himself the authors of the several passages or doctrines.
  4.  i.e., their pleasures. These ills, by being cultivated, become vices.

Letter XXXVIII. On Quiet Conversation

This letter is very short. The use of text as a teaching medium contrasts Seneca with two of his contemporaries. It is known that Epictetus and Musonius did not write books, but delivered speeches that were recorded by others.

He states that oratory is useful for attracting students, but not for instructing them:
when the aim is to make a man learn, and not merely to make him wish to learn, we must have recourse to the low-toned words of conversation. They enter more easily, and stick in the memory; for we do not need many words, but, rather, effective words.” (XXXVIII,1)

In the second half, Seneca responds indirectly to Plato’s criticism of the written word. He makes use of the image of the teacher as a sower. He first compares words to seeds, then to reason and finally to precepts. Seeds must find a suitable soil in the listener’s mind, they have their own power (you see them) and grow from something small to something big. In fact, in a good mind, they will return more than was invested. Seneca repeatedly says that he is a sower. Seeds must find a suitable soil in the listener’s mind, have their own power and grow from something small to something big.

In fact, in a good mind, they will return more than was invested.

Sêneca repeatedly emphasizes that not many words are necessary, only effective ones, and he reinforces this argument through the short nature of the letter itself.

(image: Cicero denounces Catilina by Cesare Maccari. Cicero was famous for his oratory)


XXXVIII. On Quiet Conversation

1. You are right when you urge that we increase our mutual traffic in letters. But the greatest benefit is to be derived from conversation, because it creeps by degrees into the soul. Lectures prepared beforehand and spouted in the presence of a throng have in them more noise but less intimacy. Philosophy is good advice; and no one can give advice at the top of his lungs. Of course we must sometimes also make use of these harangues, if I may so call them, when a doubting member needs to be spurred on; but when the aim is to make a man learn, and not merely to make him wish to learn, we must have recourse to the low-toned words of conversation. They enter more easily, and stick in the memory; for we do not need many words, but, rather, effective words.

2. Words should be scattered like seed; no matter how small the seed may be, if it has once found favourable ground, it unfolds its strength and from an insignificant thing spreads to its greatest growth. Reason grows in the same way; it is not large to the outward view, but increases as it does its work. Few words are spoken; but if the mind has truly caught them, they come into their strength and spring up. Yes, precepts and seeds have the same quality; they produce much, and yet they are slight things. Only, as I said, let a favourable mind receive and assimilate them. Then of itself the mind also will produce bounteously in its turn, giving back more than it has received. Farewell.

Letter XVII. On Philosophy and Riches

Abraham_Janssens The_judgement_of_Midas

Once again Seneca addresses the matter of the little importance of money for happiness and exalts us to place the study of philosophy in the first place, leaving the wealth hoarding in second place.

Such advice, coming from one of the richest men in Rome, may seem hypocritical, and Seneca himself was the target of his critics, who asked, “Why do you talk so much better than you live?” Seneca in his writings discusses the possibility of someone being rich, even extremely rich, and maintaining ethical integrity. There are three main criteria for this, Seneca tells us.

The virtuous rich man must maintain the right attitude, detached and non-slaveful to his wealth, possessing it without obligation and willing to give up everything when necessary: “He is a great man who uses clay dishes as if they were silver; but he is equally great who uses silver as if it were clay”.
In the second place, it is important for him to acquire wealth in a morally legitimate manner, so that his money is not “stained with blood.”
In the third place, one must use his riches generously, for the benefit of those less fortunate than himself – a disposition that invites comparison with the charitable work done by rich philanthropists in our own time.


Image: The judgement of Midas by Abraham Janssens


XVII. On Philosophy and Riches

1. Cast away everything of that sort, if you are wise; nay, rather that you may be wise; strive toward a sound mind at top speed and with your whole strength. If any bond holds you back, untie it, or sever it. “But,” you say, “my estate delays me; I wish to make such disposition of it that it may suffice for me when I have nothing to do, lest either poverty be a burden to me, or I myself a burden to others.”

2. You do not seem, when you say this, to know the strength and power of that good which you are considering. You do indeed grasp the all-important thing, the great benefit which philosophy confers, but you do not yet discern accurately its various functions, nor do you yet know how great is the help we receive from philosophy in everything, everywhere, – how, (to use Cicero’s language,[1]) it not only succours us in the greatest matters but also descends to the smallest. Take my advice; call wisdom into consultation; she will advise you not to sit for ever at your ledger.

3. Doubtless, your object, what you wish to attain by such postponement of your studies, is that poverty may not have to be feared by you. But what if it is something to be desired? Riches have shut off many a man from the attainment of wisdom; poverty is unburdened and free from care. When the trumpet sounds, the poor man knows that he is not being attacked; when there is a cry of “Fire,”[2] he only seeks a way of escape, and does not ask what he can save; if the poor man must go to sea, the harbour does not resound, nor do the wharves bustle with the retinue of one individual. No throng of slaves surrounds the poor man, – slaves for whose mouths the master must covet the fertile crops of regions beyond the sea.

4. It is easy to fill a few stomachs, when they are well trained and crave nothing else but to be filled. Hunger costs but little; squeamishness costs much. Poverty is contented with fulfilling pressing needs. Why, then, should you reject Philosophy as a comrade?

5. Even the rich man copies her ways when he is in his senses. If you wish to have leisure for your mind, either be a poor man, or resemble a poor man. Study cannot be helpful unless you take pains to live simply; and living simply is voluntary poverty. Away, then, with all excuses like: “I have not yet enough; when I have gained the desired amount, then I shall devote myself wholly to philosophy.” And yet this ideal, which you are putting off and placing second to other interests, should be secured first of all; you should begin with it. You retort: “I wish to acquire something to live on.” Yes, but learn while you are acquiring it; for if anything forbids you to live nobly, nothing forbids you to die nobly.

6. There is no reason why poverty should call us away from philosophy, – no, nor even actual want. For when hastening after wisdom, we must endure even hunger. Men have endured hunger when their towns were besieged, and what other reward for their endurance did they obtain than that they did not fall under the conqueror’s power? How much greater is the promise of the prize of everlasting liberty, and the assurance that we need fear neither God nor man! Even though we starve, we must reach that goal.

7. Armies have endured all manner of want, have lived on roots, and have resisted hunger by means of food too revolting to mention. All this they have suffered to gain a kingdom, and, – what is more marvellous, – to gain a kingdom that will be another’s. Will any man hesitate to endure poverty, in order that he may free his mind from madness? Therefore one should not seek to lay up riches first; one may attain to philosophy, however, even without money for the journey.

8. It is indeed so. After you have come to possess all other things, shall you then wish to possess wisdom also? Is philosophy to be the last requisite in life, – a sort of supplement? Nay, your plan should be this: be a philosopher now, whether you have anything or not, – for if you have anything, how do you know that you have not too much already? – but if you have nothing, seek understanding first, before anything else.

9. “But,” you say, “I shall lack the necessities of life.” In the first place, you cannot lack them; because nature demands but little, and the wise man suits his needs to nature. But if the utmost pinch of need arrives, he will quickly take leave of life and cease being a trouble to himself. If, however, his means of existence are meagre and scanty, he will make the best of them, without being anxious or worried about anything more than the bare necessities; he will do justice to his belly and his shoulders; with free and happy spirit he will laugh at the bustling of rich men, and the flurried ways of those who are hastening after wealth,

10. and say: “Why of your own accord postpone your real life to the distant future? Shall you wait for some interest to fall due, or for some income on your merchandise, or for a place in the will of some wealthy old man, when you can be rich here and now. Wisdom offers wealth in ready money, and pays it over to those in whose eyes she has made wealth superfluous.” These remarks refer to other men; you are nearer the rich class. Change the age in which you live, and you have too much. But in every age, what is enough remains the same.

11. I might close my letter at this point, if I had not got you into bad habits. One cannot greet Parthian royalty without bringing a gift; and in your case I cannot say farewell without paying a price. But what of it? I shall borrow from Epicurus:[3] “The acquisition of riches has been for many men, not an end, but a change, of troubles.

12. I do not wonder. For the fault is not in the wealth, but in the mind itself. That which had made poverty a burden to us, has made riches also a burden. Just as it matters little whether you lay a sick man on a wooden or on a golden bed, for whithersoever he be moved he will carry his malady with him; so one need not care whether the diseased mind is bestowed upon riches or upon poverty. His malady goes with the man.

Farewell

Footnotes

  1.  Perhaps from the Hortensius; see Müller, Frag. 98, p. 326.
  2.  Literally, “Water!”
  3.  Frag. 479 Usener.

Letter XVI. On Philosophy, the Guide of Life

Philosophy and Christian Art by Daniel Huntington

Would stoicism be useful for religious people? and for atheists and agnostics? Seneca says yes, and for everyone. The basic idea of letter 16 is made clear in its first lines: “no man can live a happy life, or even a supportable life, without the study of wisdom” (XVI, 1)

However, the study of philosophy is really a love of wisdom, and should not be pursued for trivial matters, as Seneca makes clear shortly afterwards (this would virtually eliminate much modern academic philosophy):

“Philosophy is no trick to catch the public; it is not devised for show. It is a matter, not of words, but of facts. It is not pursued in order that the day may yield some amusement before it is spent, or that our leisure may be relieved of a tedium that irks us. It moulds and constructs the soul;” (XVI.3).

In the fifth paragraph Seneca presents an interesting argument as to why philosophy should be our guide in life, regardless of our (metaphysical) religious positions:

“whether Fate binds us down by an inexorable law, or whether God as arbiter of the universe has arranged everything, or whether Chance drives and tosses human affairs without method, philosophy ought to be our defence.” (XVI, 5)

Observe the three possibilities considered: inexorable destiny, or what we would today call determinism; God as the master planner of everything that happens in the universe, similar to the Christian idea of Providence; or chance, the epicurean chaos that typifies a cosmos in which God plays no active role.

This is nothing different from what Marcus Aurelius stated in his Meditations:

“Either there is a fatal necessity and invincible order, or a kind providence, or a confusion without a purpose and without a director. If then there is an invincible necessity, why dost thou resist? But if there is a providence which allows itself to be propitiated, make thyself worthy of the help of the divinity. But if there is a confusion without a governor, be content that in such a tempest thou hast in thyself a certain ruling intelligence. ” (Meditations XII, 14)

Seneca then pulls out one of Epicurus’ not rare positive quotes: “This also is a saying of Epicurus: “If you live according to nature, you will never be poor; if you live according to opinion, you will never be rich.“. (XVI.7)

The letter concludes with this agreeable and instructive contrast, which leads to a profound truth:

Suppose that fortune carries you far beyond the limits of a private income, decks you with gold, clothes you in purple, and brings you to such a degree of luxury and wealth that you can bury the earth under your marble floors; … Natural desires are limited; but those which spring from false opinion can have no stopping-point. The false has no limits. (XVI, 8-9)

Points:

  1. Philosophy is useful for both the atheist and the faithful;
  2. Live according to nature;
  3. Natural desires are limited

image: “Philosophy and Christian Art” by Daniel Huntington

Also on LinkedIn and Medium


XVI. On Philosophy, the Guide of Life

1. It is clear to you, I am sure, Lucilius, that no man can live a happy life, or even a supportable life, without the study of wisdom; you know also that a happy life is reached when our wisdom is brought to completion, but that life is at least endurable even when our wisdom is only begun. This idea, however, clear though it is, must be strengthened and implanted more deeply by daily reflection; it is more important for you to keep the resolutions you have already made than to go on and make noble ones. You must persevere, must develop new strength by continuous study, until that which is only a good inclination becomes a good settled purpose.

2. Hence you no longer need to come to me with much talk and protestations; I know that you have made great progress. I understand the feelings which prompt your words; they are not feigned or specious words. Nevertheless I shall tell you what I think, – that at present I have hopes for you, but not yet perfect trust. And I wish that you would adopt the same attitude towards yourself; there is no reason why you should put confidence in yourself too quickly and readily. Examine yourself; scrutinize and observe yourself in divers ways; but mark, before all else, whether it is in philosophy or merely in life itself[1] that you have made progress.

3. Philosophy is no trick to catch the public; it is not devised for show. It is a matter, not of words, but of facts. It is not pursued in order that the day may yield some amusement before it is spent, or that our leisure may be relieved of a tedium that irks us. It moulds and constructs the soul; it orders our life, guides our conduct, shows us what we should do and what we should leave undone; it sits at the helm and directs our course as we waver amid uncertainties. Without it, no one can live fearlessly or in peace of mind. Countless things that happen every hour call for advice; and such advice is to be sought in philosophy.

4. Perhaps someone will say: “How can philosophy help me, if Fate exists? Of what avail is philosophy, if God rules the universe? Of what avail is it, if Chance governs everything? For not only is it impossible to change things that are determined, but it is also impossible to plan beforehand against what is undetermined; either God has forestalled my plans, and decided what I am to do, or else Fortune gives no free play to my plans.”

5. Whether the truth, Lucilius, lies in one or in all of these views, we must be philosophers; whether Fate binds us down by an inexorable law, or whether God as arbiter of the universe has arranged everything, or whether Chance drives and tosses human affairs without method, philosophy ought to be our defence. She will encourage us to obey God cheerfully, but Fortune defiantly; she will teach us to follow God and endure Chance.

6. But it is not my purpose now to be led into a discussion as to what is within our own control, – if foreknowledge is supreme, or if a chain of fated events drags us along in its clutches, or if the sudden and the unexpected play the tyrant over us; I return now to my warning and my exhortation, that you should not allow the impulse of your spirit to weaken and grow cold. Hold fast to it and establish it firmly, in order that what is now impulse may become a habit of the mind.

7. If I know you well, you have already been trying to find out, from the very beginning of my letter, what little contribution it brings to you. Sift the letter, and you will find it. You need not wonder at any genius of mine; for as yet I am lavish only with other men’s property. – But why did I say “other men”? Whatever is well said by anyone is mine. – This also is a saying of Epicurus:[2] “If you live according to nature, you will never be poor; if you live according to opinion, you will never be rich.

8. Nature’s wants are slight; the demands of opinion are boundless. Suppose that the property of many millionaires is heaped up in your possession. Assume that fortune carries you far beyond the limits of a private income, decks you with gold, clothes you in purple, and brings you to such a degree of luxury and wealth that you can bury the earth under your marble floors; that you may not only possess, but tread upon, riches. Add statues, paintings, and whatever any art has devised for the satisfaction of luxury; you will only learn from such things to crave still greater.

9. Natural desires are limited; but those which spring from false opinion can have no stopping-point. The false has no limits. When you are travelling on a road, there must be an end; but when astray, your wanderings are limitless. Recall your steps, therefore, from idle things, and when you would know whether that which you seek is based upon a natural or upon a misleading desire, consider whether it can stop at any definite point. If you find, after having travelled far, that there is a more distant goal always in view, you may be sure that this condition is contrary to nature.

Farewell

Footnotes

  1.  i.e., have merely advanced in years.
  2.  Frag. 201 Usener.

Letter VIII. On the Philosopher’s Seclusion

Fortune by Tadeusz Kuntze

In his eighth letter Seneca continues to advise us to avoid the crowd and the things that please the crowd, remembering whatever fortune gives us can also be taken away. “Fortunae” to the Latin author resembles our “luck” or “destiny”, but is also a goddess. In the post’s image, Fortune by Tadeusz Kuntze, the roman goddess Fortuna randomly distributes her favours.

Seneca defends himself from the accusation of living a hidden life of reflection and writing as well as not living up to the demand that a man of stature. Predicts that his writings will be very important to generations of people to come and therefore the best use of his time  (got it right, after all we are discussing it almost 2000 latter). Seneca feels he has identified the right path late in life. He sees avoiding the mob and the gifts of chance as being the key to happy living:

“I point other men to the right path, which I have found late in life, when wearied with wandering. I cry out to them: “Avoid whatever pleases the throng: avoid the gifts of Chance! ” (VIII,3)

This is a familiar stoic mind set – opportunities of chance whether good or bad are to be avoided or at least distrusted as they have nothing to do with our own behaviour. The gifts of chance are not our possessions, for they can be taken away at any stage. We only have our own thoughts and behaviour This is the route to freedom from the Fortuna’s whims. Seneca also recommends frugal life and careful handling of one’ s body:

“Hold fast, then, to this sound and wholesome rule of life; that you indulge the body only so far as is needful for good health. The body should be treated more rigorously, that it may not be disobedient to the mind. Eat merely to relieve your hunger; drink merely to quench your thirst; dress merely to keep out the cold; …. And reflect that nothing except the soul is worthy of wonder; for to the soul, if it be great, naught is great.” (VIII, 5 )

Points:

  1. Avoid whatever pleases the throng: avoid the gifts of Chance;
  2. Understand that a man is sheltered just as well by a thatch as by a roof of gold;
  3. Gifts of Chance are not to be regarded as part of our possessions. 

Also published on Medium (free link).


VIII. On the Philosopher’s Seclusion

1. “Do you bid me,” you say, “shun the throng, and withdraw from men, and be content with my own conscience? Where are the counsels of your school, which order a man to die in the midst of active work?” As to the course[1] which I seem to you to be urging on you now and then, my object in shutting myself up and locking the door is to be able to help a greater number. I never spend a day in idleness; I appropriate even a part of the night for study. I do not allow time for sleep but yield to it when I must, and when my eyes are wearied with waking and ready to fall shut, I keep them at their task.

2. I have withdrawn not only from men, but from affairs, especially from my own affairs; I am working for later generations, writing down some ideas that may be of assistance to them. There are certain wholesome counsels, which may be compared to prescriptions of useful drugs; these I am putting into writing; for I have found them helpful in ministering to my own sores, which, if not wholly cured, have at any rate ceased to spread.

3. I point other men to the right path, which I have found late in life, when wearied with wandering. I cry out to them: “Avoid whatever pleases the throng: avoid the gifts of Chance! Halt before every good which Chance brings to you, in a spirit of doubt and fear; for it is the dumb animals and fish that are deceived by tempting hopes. Do you call these things the ‘gifts’ of Fortune? They are snares. And any man among you who wishes to live a life of safety will avoid, to the utmost of his power, these limed twigs of her favour, by which we mortals, most wretched in this respect also, are deceived; for we think that we hold them in our grasp, but they hold us in theirs.

4. Such a career leads us into precipitous ways, and life on such heights ends in a fall. Moreover, we cannot even stand up against prosperity when she begins to drive us to leeward; nor can we go down, either, ‘with the ship at least on her course,’ or once for all;[2] Fortune does not capsize us, – she plunges our bows under[3] and dashes us on the rocks.

5. “Hold fast, then, to this sound and wholesome rule of life; that you indulge the body only so far as is needful for good health. The body should be treated more rigorously, that it may not be disobedient to the mind. Eat merely to relieve your hunger; drink merely to quench your thirst; dress merely to keep out the cold; house yourself merely as a protection against personal discomfort. It matters little whether the house be built of turf, or of variously coloured imported marble; understand that a man is sheltered just as well by a thatch as by a roof of gold. Despise everything that useless toil creates as an ornament and an object of beauty. And reflect that nothing except the soul is worthy of wonder; for to the soul, if it be great, naught is great.”[4]

6. When I commune in such terms with myself and with future generations, do you not think that I am doing more good than when I appear as counsel in court, or stamp my seal upon a will, or lend my assistance in the senate, by word or action, to a candidate? Believe me, those who seem to be busied with nothing are busied with the greater tasks; they are dealing at the same time with things mortal and things immortal.

7. But I must stop, and pay my customary contribution, to balance this letter. The payment shall not be made from my own property; for I am still conning Epicurus.[5] I read to-day, in his works, the following sentence: “If you would enjoy real freedom, you must be the slave of Philosophy.” The man who submits and surrenders himself to her is not kept waiting; he is emancipated[6]on the spot. For the very service of Philosophy is freedom.

8. It is likely that you will ask me why I quote so many of Epicurus’s noble words instead of words taken from our own school. But is there any reason why you should regard them as sayings of Epicurus and not common property? How many poets give forth ideas that have been uttered, or may be uttered, by philosophers! I need not touch upon the tragedians and our writers of national drama;[7] for these last are also somewhat serious, and stand half-way between comedy and tragedy. What a quantity of sagacious verses lie buried in the mime! How many of Publilius’s lines are worthy of being spoken by buskin-clad actors, as well as by wearers of the slipper![8]

9. I shall quote one verse of his, which concerns philosophy, and particularly that phase of it which we were discussing a moment ago, wherein he says that the gifts of Chance are not to be regarded as part of our possessions:

Still alien is whatever you have gained by coveting.[9]

10. I recall that you yourself expressed this idea much more happily and concisely:

What Chance has made yours is not really yours.[10]

And a third, spoken by you still more happily, shall not be omitted:

The good that could be given, can be removed.[11]

I shall not charge this up to the expense account, because I have given it to you from your own stock.

Farewell


Footnotes

  1.  As contrasted with the general Stoic doctrine of taking part in the world’s work.
  2.  See Ep. lxxxv. 33 for the famous saying of the Rhodian pilot.
  3.  cernulat, equivalent to Greek ἀναχαιτίζω, of a horse which throws a rider over its head.
  4.  Cf. the Stoic precept nil admirandum.
  5.  Frag. 199 Usener.
  6.  Literally “spun around” by the master and dismissed to freedom. Cf. Persius, v. 75f.
  7.  Fabulae togatae were plays which dealt with Roman subject matter, as contrasted with adaptations from the Greek, called palliatae. The term, in the widest sense includes both comedy and tragedy.
  8.  i.e., comedians or mimes.
  9.  Syri Sententiae, p. 309 Ribbeck².
  10.  Com. Rom. Frag. p. 394 Ribbeck².
  11.  ibidem.

Image: Fortune by Tadeusz Kuntze