Seneca
Seneca
Seneca
PHILOSOPHERS
Series editors: Jonathan Barnes, Universit e de Paris IVSorbonne
and A. A. Long, University of California, Berkeley
SENECA
SELECTED PHILOSOPHICAL LETTERS
Senecas Letters to Lucilius are a rich source of information about
ancient Stoicism, an inuential work for early modern philosophers, and
a fascinating philosophical document in their own right. This selection
of the letters aims to include those which are of greatest philosophical
interest, especially those which highlight the debates between Stoics
and Platonists or Aristotelians in the rst century AD, and the issue,
still important today, of how technical philosophical enquiry is related
to the various purposes for which philosophy is practised. In addition
to examining the philosophical content of each letter, Brad Inwoods
commentary discusses the literary and historical background of the letters
and to their relationship with other prose works by Seneca.
Seneca is the earliest Stoic author for whom we have access to a large
number of complete works, and these works were highly inuential in
later centuries. He was also a politically inuential advisor to the Roman
emperor Nero anda celebratedauthor of prose andverse. His philosophical
acuity and independence of mind make his works exciting and challenging
for the modern reader.
Brad Inwood is Professor of Classics and Philosophy at the University
of Toronto.
PUBLISHED IN THE SERIES
Alcinous: The Handbook of Platonism
John Dillon
Epictetus: Discourses, Book +
Robert Dobbin
Galen: On the Therapeutic Method, Books I and II
R. J. Hankinson
Porphyry: Introduction
Jonathan Barnes
Seneca: Selected Philosophical Letters
Brad Inwood
Sextus Empiricus: Against the Ethicists
Richard Bett
Sextus Empiricus: Against the Grammarians
David Blank
SENECA
SELECTED PHILOSOPHICAL LETTERS
Translated with an
Introduction and Commentary by
BRAD INWOOD
1
1
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PREFACE
In the course of my work on this book I have incurred more debts than I can
fully recall, let alone acknowledge here. It is a genuine pleasure to thank,
rst and foremost, the Centre for Advanced Study in the Behavioural
Sciences for their support during a sabbatical leave in :ooj. Without
the respite and stimulus provided by that unique institution this book
would never have been completed. I am also very grateful to the Canada
Research Chair program of the Canadian government and to my friends
and colleagues at the University of Toronto for invaluable and unstinting
support. I owe a great deal to the generous and careful work of my research
assistants in the Department of Classics, Vicki Ciocani and Emily Fletcher.
My initial work on Senecas letters was encouraged by an invitation from
the ancient philosophy group at Cambridge University to a workshop on
Senecas letters in May :oo+. The discussion at that workshop contributed
a great deal to several of the commentaries in this book. Later, students
in two of my graduate seminars (in :oo: and :ooj) at the University
of Toronto served as willing guinea pigs and ingenious collaborators. A
keen group of graduate students at New York University provided helpful
feedback on several letters during a series of visits in :oo:; I am grateful
to Phillip Mitsis for the invitation to NYU and for his encouragement and
advice on Seneca over many years. Tony Long has been both supportive
of and patient about this project for a very long time. His acute comments
and those of his fellow series editor Jonathan Barnes have improved the
commentary and translation at many points; no doubt I should have taken
their advice more consistently. David Sedleys work on the relationship
between Stoic physics and ethics in Senecas work (especially in his
article Stoic Metaphysics at Rome, Sedley :ooj) has been a valuable
source of stimulus. The need to respond to John Coopers challenging
discussion Moral Theory and Moral Improvement: Seneca (Cooper
:oo) provoked many fruitful lines of enquiry. The ancient philosophy
group at the University of Chicago has done a great deal for the study
of Seneca during the time when this book was under construction (not
least by organizing a key conference in April :oo) and their condence in
the value of Senecan studies in a contemporary philosophical setting has
fostered a great deal of work by many people from which I have been able
to benet.
viii rarr+cr
Some commentaries have benetted from work on papers originally
written for oral presentation and since published separately. The com-
mentary on Letter is intimately connected to a paper given at the
Universities of Buffalo, British Columbia, and Alberta, Reason, Ration-
alization and Happiness; it now appears as chapter of Reading Seneca
(Inwood :ooj). The commentary on Letter +:o began as a sketch for
Getting to Goodness, delivered to the Princeton Ancient Philosophy
Colloquium and at the University of Pittsburgh and now published as
chapter +o of Reading Seneca. The commentary on Letter 8y has been
enriched by discussion of an unpublished paper presented at Cornell
University, the University of Arizona, and UC Santa Barbara.
I owe a particularly concrete debt of gratitude to Margaret Graver, who
subjected the penultimate draft of my translation to an exacting scrutiny.
Her inuence has saved me from many errors and infelicities and I have
often accepted her suggestions for better wording; the remaining blunders
are my own fault. Margaret also read an early version of the commentaries
with a critical eye; her comments and suggestions have improved my
comment on almost every letter.
It is no mere clich e to say that without the encouragement, advice, and
loving support of my wife, Niko Scharer, I would not have been able to
write this book. An even older debt is owed to my parents, Marg and Bill
Inwood. For many decades they have provided a wonderful education,
both moral and intellectual. My brothers and I had the privilege of growing
up in a household where critical enquiry, teaching, intellectual challenge,
and a passion for fairness were in the fabric of daily life. It has taken me
a long time to see how precious a gift our parents gave us. Humbly, I
dedicate this book to them.
CONTENTS
Introduction xi
Abbreviations and Conventions xxv
TRANSLATIONS 1
Letter j8
Letter j +o
Letter +j
Letter y+ :j
Letter y
Letter 8j o
Letter 8y 8
Letter +o j
Letter ++ j
Letter ++y j
Letter ++8 y:
Letter ++ y
Letter +:o y
Letter +:+ 8j
Letter +:: o
Letter +: j
Letter +:
COMMENTARY 105
Group + (Letters j8, j, ) +oy
Letter j8 +++
Letter j +
Letter +jj
x co+r+s
Group : (Letters y+ and y) +8:
Letter y+ +8
Letter y :oo
Group (Letters 8j and 8y) :+8
Letter 8j ::o
Letter 8y :
Group (Letters +o, ++ and ++y) :+
Letter +o :+
Letter ++ :y:
Letter ++y :88
Group j (Letters ++8:) o
Letter ++8 o
Letter ++ +j
Letter +:o ::
Letter +:+ :
Letter +::
Letter +: jj
Letter +: +
Bibliography y8
Index Locorum 8j
General Index o+
INTRODUCTION
Senecas Life and Works
Lucius Annaeus Seneca, better known as Seneca the Younger, was a
complex gure. At some point between and + uc at Corduba in
Roman Spain, he was born into a prosperous and prominent provin-
cial Roman family. His father, Seneca the Elder, was an important
literary gure in Rome itself, famous as the author of the Controversi-
ae and Suasoriae, compilations of rhetorical declamations by the most
famous speakers of the day. Seneca the Younger was the middle of
three sons; while his older brother had a successful if convention-
al political career leading to a provincial governorship, the youngest
son lived a private life and did not achieve senatorial rank. Seneca
the Younger took an early interest in philosophy, oratory, and liter-
ature and over the course of a long career rose to become a seni-
or adviser to the emperor Nero and the most prominent literary
gure of his generation, publishing extensively in both prose and
verse.
Senecas early life is difcult to document, although his career becomes
easier to track after he was forced into exile in +n + owing to some sort
of court intrigue.' He was recalled to Rome and political inuence in
+n . For readers of this volume, the most important facts are his early
interest in philosophy, his lifelong commitment to philosophical study and
writing, and his determination to combine those interests with a long and
active political career as well as a major role as a prominent literary gure.
He was the author of many tragedies (whose relationship to philosophy
is a controversial issue) and a famous orator; his satirical work on the
emperor Claudius, the Apocolocyntosis, is yet another demonstration of his
virtuosity.
Senecas inuence at Neros court lasted for more than a decade, but
waned as the character of the emperor and his regime deteriorated. Having
withdrawn from public life in the period between +n : and , Seneca
was eventually forced into committing suicide in the spring of j because
' The best account of Senecas life and background is still Grifn +:: part I. See also
Inwood :ooj: ch. +.
xii r+aontc+ro
of the emperors suspicion that Seneca was involved with a conspiracy
against him.
The chronology of many of Senecas works is debatable, although
Grifn +:, Appendix A is a reliable guide. The Letters, however, are
securely datable to the period after +n : when Seneca, then in his mid-
sixties and at the end of a long career, was in retirement. This setting
for the composition of the Letters is often relevant to their tone and
themes.
The Nature of Senecas letters
It is nowwidely agreed that Senecas letters in their present form, whatever
their relationship might have been to a real correspondence, are creations
of the writers craft. Like the dialogues of Plato, Senecas letters create an
atmosphere of interpersonal philosophical exchange, with the difference
that the medium of this exchange is not face-to-face conversation but
intimate correspondence between friends. The contributions to this
conversation of Lucilius, a long-time friend of Senecas, must be inferred
from what Seneca says to him, but as all readers of the letters have
recognized, the assumption of a dialogue between the two friends is
an important factor shaping the way the letters are meant to work for
readers. For the most part the letters function as independent works
of philosophical literature and there is little reason to suppose that
readers of them were expected to have read the rest of Senecas works,
and almost certainly not his dramas. In commenting on them, though,
a certain amount of comparison with his other philosophical works is
desirable.
More detailed discussion of the issues raised here is given in The Importance of Form
in the Letters of Seneca the Younger in Morrison and Morel, forthcoming. Recent studies
from which I have benetted are Wilson +8y, and :oo+, and Teichert +o.
Note the promise of literary immortality to Lucilius at z1. (Letter :+, section j;
for reference conventions in this book, see below pp. xxiii, xxv). See the discussion by
Grifn +:, Appendix B . For a generous survey of earlier views see Mazzoli +8.
More particularly, see Leeman +j+, +j; Abel +8+; Cancik +y: j; and chapter + of
Margaret Gravers unpublished dissertation (+), Therapeutic Reading and Senecas Moral
Epistles.
See Teichert +o: y+:.
Teichert (+o: y+:) points out that the one-sidedness of the conversation between
Seneca the letter-writer and his silent partner Lucilius encourages a greater engagement on
the part of the reader, who can play both the role of reader and of recipient of the letters,
being addressed by the author in both modes. I am, however, sceptical about Teicherts
supposition that the authors philosophical experience is meant to be shaped by the nature
of the correspondence. As author Seneca is surely more in control than that.
r+aontc+ro xiii
Other essential facts about the letters can be summarized quickly.
Despite appearances, our corpus of letters is signicantly incomplete;
originally there were more than the twenty books which now survive; an
excerpt from a letter on style is preserved by Aulus Gellius (Gel. +:.:)
from Book ::. Among other things, this excerpt conrms that literary
themes remained important in later books of the letters; the appearance
in our twenty-book collection of an accelerating emphasis on tough
philosophical themes might to some extent be misleading. Furthermore,
the collection we do have circulated in at least two volumes in late antiquity
(Letters +88 and 8+:). The fact that the collection came to circulate
in separate components in antiquity is signicant for understanding its
structure. L. D. Reynolds once suggested that the incompleteness at the
end of our collection might be the result of an early loss of one entire
volume of letters. But it is also possible that small groups of letters have
been lost within the span of our transmitted collection, and the volume join
between 88 and 8 would be a particularly likely location for such a loss.
The letters are not alone in having been maimed; the Natural Questions
also suffered severe damage early in the history of its transmission.
The incompleteness of our collection is signicant when we consider the
issue of the internal articulation of the letters, how they were meant to be
grouped for reading or publication. The hermeneutical issues surrounding
this issue are perhaps insoluble, since we cannot any longer look at the
whole collection of letters as Seneca meant it to be read. Moreover, it has so
far proven difcult to separate philosophical interpretation fromquestions
of structure and literary form.' If ones ultimate goal is a philosophical
interpretation of the letters, it will not help much to seek guidance from a
Parts of what follows are adapted from The Importance of Form in the Letters of
Seneca the Younger (Inwood forthcoming).
Reynolds +j: +y.
See Cancik +y: 8+:, for sensible discussion of the internal completeness of our
collection. In n. +8, p. 8, she notes that Reynolds fails to consider the possibility that letters
may have been lost at the join between the two volumes of letters that came down separately
through the medieval manuscript tradition.
In addition to the loss of two half books, the order of the books in our NQ seems to
have become seriously confused in the course of transmission. It is likely that the original
order was , a, b, j, , y, 8, +, : and quite possible that the work was left incomplete on
Senecas death. For further discussion and references, see my God and Human Knowledge
in Senecas Natural Questions, ch. in Inwood :ooj.
' Virtually everyone who writes on Senecas letters has taken an at least implicit position
on their pedagogical or literary structure and a review of the issue would be both lengthy
and inconclusive. But some works stand out for their relative good sense. See Maurach
+yo; Cancik +y, who commits herself to the view that the organizational principle of the
collection is pedagogical rather than doctrinal, is unusually sensitive to the methodological
problems involved in discussing the plan and organization of the collection and emphasizes
xiv r+aontc+ro
view about their literary form which is itself partly shaped by an incipient
philosophical interpretation.
These are very serious challenges to the reader, and reection on these
difculties makes the decision to select groups of letters for philosophical
comment less unjustiable than it might otherwise be; it certainly makes
serious philosophical work on the letters a daunting prospect. But the
Letters to Lucilius remain Senecas masterpiece, and this is in part because
they are philosophical letters. We should, then, ask why he chose this form.
Why, at the end of a long life, a long and tumultuous political career, and
(perhaps most relevant) at the endof a brilliant literary career of unmatched
versatility, write letters? The answer is not immediately clear and Senecas
motivation was probably not simple. In the commentary I assume that the
choice of the letter as the literary form is in fact relevant to what Seneca
aimed to accomplish, and that his inspiration for writing philosophical
letters came from many sources, the most important of which was perhaps
Epicurus published philosophical correspondence, which was originally
much more extensive than and much of it different in character from
the letters preserved in Diogenes Laertius, book +o.'' At the same time,
Senecas self-conception as an author of Latin literature is relevant. Not
only should we assume (what can also be conrmed by observation) that
Ciceros philosophical works, especially the De Finibus and the Tusculan
Disputations, were a stimulus for his work, but it is also likely that the then
recent publication of Ciceros Letters to Atticus contributed to the decision
to add the literary epistle to the other genres in which Seneca chose to
write.' (Seneca had, after all, been a brilliantly successful author in more
genres than any other Roman writer one can think of: he was a poet,
dramatist, public speaker, and essayist in many styles.) The approach to
Seneca taken in the present commentary presupposes that his character as
the complexity of the techniques used by Seneca (in her view) to give unity and texture to
the work.
'' By Senecas time there had been a long tradition of philosophical letter-writing. There
were corpora of letters attributed to Plato, Aristotle, Pythagoreans, Cynics and others. For
a fuller discussion of Senecas place in this tradition and the inuence of the tradition on
the way his letters are written, see The Importance of Form in the Letters of Seneca the
Younger (Inwood forthcoming).
' See Grifn +:: +8. For background see Maurach +yo: +8+. The major
limitation of his assessment of generic inuence on Senecas letters is his nearly exclusive
concentration on literary formand his emphasis on Senecas situation within his Latin literary
tradition. Hence (pp. +y8) he downplays the importance of Epicurus letters and focusses
more on Horace and Lucilius. Similarly, his grudging concession of possible Ciceronian
inuence on the project of the letters (p. +y) seems to underestimate the motivational power
of authorial aemulatio.
r+aontc+ro xv
a man of letters is of great importance,' although this in no way detracts
from an appreciation of the philosophical intensity of Senecas project.
Senecas Motivation as Author
It is common, in the interpretation of Senecas letters, to emphasize the
apparent moral progress of Lucilius throughout the collection. There is
an increase in the philosophical intensity and difculty of the letters as
the reader proceeds from the rst letter to the more technical themes of
the letters which come latest in our surviving collection. It is, further,
common to emphasize the role Seneca apparently takes on, not just in
these letters, as a guide to and inspiration for the moral improvement
of his addressee. Sometimes this role is described as that of a spiritual
guide and often this characterization of Senecas nature as an author has
a powerful inuence on the interpretation of his letters. John Cooper, for
instance, has been inspired by Ilsetraut Hadots superb analysis of Seneca
in Seneca und die griechisch-r omische Tradition der Seelenleitung (Hadot
+) to treat him primarily as such a spiritual guide (Cooper :oo). This
is a risky characterization of Senecas central motivation as an author, and
some critics have tended to treat Senecas self-presentation (as an adviser
and correspondent) as though it were his fundamental philosophical
motivation. It is tempting but unwarranted to assume that virtually all of
Senecas philosophical activity, his interest in theory and argumentation,
his concern for understanding the phenomena of the natural and human
world and for convincing his readers of what is the case about it, should
be approached on the assumption that he is rst and foremost a spiritual
guide, someone whose interests, activity, and methods dominate over the
more theoretical aspects of philosophy.
Yet one of the most persistent problems in understanding Seneca has
always been the large number of roles he plays. In the corpus of his writing
and in the relatively rich historical record we possess about him we see
Seneca in many guises: as an occasionally Machiavellian political gure of
great but transient power, as an eloquent orator devoted to the artfulness
of ne speech as much as to its power to persuade, as a dark but brilliant
poet, as a friend, son, and brother, as a philosopher of surprisingly wide
interests, and as a moral adviser. The contradictions often seen in Senecas
life and works stem in part from this variety of roles, and it is obvious
' See the longer discussion in chapter + of Inwood :ooj.
xvi r+aontc+ro
that choosing one role or another as central has a considerable impact
on how one understands Seneca. Perhaps the chief frustration faced in
studying Seneca lies in the absence of condence about which role, if
any, should be treated as central. It would be a great help if we had a
fully reliable biography or autobiography of the man, but despite our
mass of information about his life we do not.' That is not to say that we
know nothing about the place of the letters in Senecas philosophical and
authorial careerfar from it. Grifns dating of the letters to the period
after his forced retirement in +n : is secure; since Seneca was forced to
commit suicide in +n j the letters can be dated fairly exactly. This means
that we must bear in mind that Seneca is at the same period working
on the Natural Questions and quite possibly had only recently completed
the large and frequently quite technical work On Favours.' In assessing
Senecas basic motivations as author of the letters, we should not neglect
these facts; the range of works he wrote at this stage of his career ought to
make us hesitate before assuming that Senecas main intention was to be a
spiritual guide for the reader. We should perhaps take a wider view of the
question.
In recent years two developments have occurred that bear on the
question of how to approach Senecas character as a philosophical writer.
Among students of ancient philosophy there has been a dramatic increase
of interest in and sympathy for the notion that moral guidance and moral
improvement are an important part of philosophy; many philosophers in
the English-speaking world generally have embraced the humanly practic-
al, political, and psychological functions of philosophy in a way that could
not have been predicted in +j or even +yj. The other development has
been in the study of literature. Students of ancient literature are nowmuch
more wary of relatively simple biographical claims based on the works
they study; there is a much greater appreciation now for the elusiveness
of the author behind the texts he or she wrote, for the complexity of
the roles one author may play, and for the difculty of isolating with
sufcient condence a central and determinative biographical fact which
might guide our understanding of literary works.
These two developments pull the study of Senecas philosophical works
in opposite directions. Philosophers are now much more likely to take
' See Edwards +y: :; this is true despite the magnicent work of Grifn +:.
' Grifn +:: appendix A; see especially n. G, p. . Here Grifn takes account of
Senecas lost work On Moral Philosophy, of which sparse fragments survive in Lactantius
(collected in F. Haases +8y+: Teubner edition of Senecas works, vol. , :). These
fragments do not suggest that the work was of the character indicated by Seneca in his
allusions to it as a work in progress in 1o6.1, 1o8.1, and 1oq.1y. See Leeman +j: o+o.
r+aontc+ro xvii
Senecas role as a moral (or spiritual) guide to be philosophically relevant,
to play a central role in the understanding of his philosophical works,
especially of his letters. Indeed, in light of the impact of Pierre Hadot,
Michel Foucault, and Martha Nussbaum we would hardly expect the
therapeutic capacities of philosophy to be of less interest than they were
a generation ago. And students of literature are now much less likely
to embrace any biographical facts or presumed motivations as central to
understanding Senecas works. In themselves, both of these developments
are welcome; it is now much less likely that philosophers will pass Seneca
by as having nothing of philosophical interest to say and students of
literature are less likely to marginalize for the wrong sort of reasons the
philosophically robust parts of Senecas corpus.
Nevertheless, in approaching Senecas letters philosophically, it is
surely a mistake to take it for granted that the authors central motivation
is to play the role of moral or spiritual guide for his readers. That is
often his persona, his authorial voice, to be sure. But it is as much a
mistake to take that authorial self-presentation as the key to philosophical
interpretation as it would be to begin from his role as political adviser
or tragic poet. The role of guide and adviser is one that Seneca adopts
to write the letters; it is apparently the voice which he often wishes to
be heard rst by his readers. But it does not follow that it represents his
basic authorial motivation or that our philosophical understanding of the
letters must begin from this alleged fact about Seneca. We should be no
readier to assume that the literary strategy Seneca chose denes his central
philosophical concerns than we are to assume that Platos choice of the
Socratic dialogue as a form denes his philosophical agenda. In both cases
it probably matters, but the way that it matters is not something to be
taken for granted.
This is especially important for the interpretation of Senecas letters,
many of which combine detailed and gritty philosophical discussion
with an apparent renunciation, halfway through the letter, of that very
discussion in the interests of what Seneca says is actually relevant to
moral improvement. For a philosophical reading of the letters perhaps the
main problem is Senecas internal self-criticism, his agrantly ambivalent
attitude towards philosophical detail and technicality.' If we begin from
the assumption that his central interest is spiritual guidance we will not
be able to understand why he bothered to give us so much more; we
often wont be able to ask the right questions about the letters; and
' On Senecas complex attitude to logic, see Barnes +y; for his attitude to physics see
most recently Wildberger :oo.
xviii r+aontc+ro
we are unlikely to persist in the close analysis of his arguments if we
are too ready to treat Senecas approach to his readers as pedagogical
rather than philosophical. We will nd ourselves unable to explain why
a Roman senator with these motivations bothered to write so much more
widely on various philosophical themes than, for example, Musonius
Rufus.
Inthe letters Seneca writes a great deal about physics, dialectic, andwhat
we would call metaphysics alongside of argumentation in ethics which is
far more technical than mere moral guidance requires. He didnt have to
do this, just as he didnt have to write the Natural Questions, or explore
at length the intractable ethical paradoxes of the De Beneciis, or write
tragedies and the satirical Apocolocyntosis. I assume, then, in writing the
commentaries which follow that the facts that we do know about Senecas
literary output and life history simply do not justify regarding himrst and
foremost as a moral or spiritual guide and as being motivated essentially
by that mission, any more than those facts would justify regarding him
fundamentally as an actor on the political scene who had literary ambitions
on the side.
Yet some stance must be taken in order to interpret the letters, a
philosophical work which has had persistent and profound impact on the
western philosophical tradition, and one of the largest and earliest works
by a Stoic philosopher to survive from the ancient world. If one is wary
of treating Seneca as a spiritual and moral guide, as a politician with
philosophical interests, as a poet or orator with anomalous enthusiasm
for philosophy, what stance should one take? The safest approach to
Senecas work is, as I have suggested, to regard him rst and foremost
as a man of letters, a litt erateur, as a writer whose rst concern is with
his art and his audience. This is a relatively neutral stance to take and
a relatively solid foundation for interpretation; it does not impose very
heavy constraints on how we interpret his works. We do, after all, know
with certainty that he wrote literary works of real distinction in a wider
range of genres than any other Latin author. His harshest critics, ancient
and modern, concede his stylistic accomplishments, his authorial eclat,
even if they deplore what they interpret as a certain self-indulgence and
lack of self-restraint. Moreover, literary ambition is compatible with many
different substantive motivationsmoral, metaphysical, poetic, political.
All such themes benet from, even require, literary skill if they are to
have impact on a wide audience as they were certainly meant to do. Hence
thinking rst of Senecas authorial ambitions will enable us to read each
letter with a more open mind.
r+aontc+ro xix
Senecas Approach to Writing Philosophy
It is still quite common to see Seneca treated as an eclectic philosopher,
someone who picks and chooses his inspirations not on the basis of a
commitment to the central doctrines of Stoicism and not on the basis
of a conviction about the intellectual coherence of the views he adopts.
This seems misguided. As I have tried to show in Reading Seneca (Inwood
:ooj), he is better characterized as a creative and engaged philosophical
writer, prepared to argue for the merits of the positions which he holds.
He writes in an intellectual environment where the inuence of Plato
and Aristotle and their schools cannot be neglected, and in which readers
interested in philosophy could be assumed to be comfortable in Greek as
well as in Latin.' Like Cicero a century before and like most outward-
looking philosophical writers in all eras, he writes with an eye to the
positions held by the signicant philosophical interlocutors with whom
he is engaged. On the internal evidence of the letters alone we can be
sure that these interlocutors included Epicureans as well as Platonists
and Aristotelians. Yet he never presents himself as anything other than
a Stoic. Seneca feels quite comfortable in taking independent and critical
stances about various of his Stoic predecessors and, as I shall argue in
the commentary, he seems to have particular sympathy on some issues
with the views of Aristo of Chios (while opposing him on others), with
those of Cleanthes, and those of Posidonius. Zeno takes pride of place
as founder of the school, of course. Chrysippus and other Stoics are
suitable targets of criticism when there is reason to object to their views,
yet that does not diminish Senecas commitment to Stoicism; nor should
this sort of criticism itself make us doubt his skill as a philosopher.
In many letters Seneca is notably concerned to emphasize the common
ground he shares with Epicureans; he is less vociferous about the fact
that his version of Stoicism often emphasizes approaches shared with
Platonism. But through all of this he thinks and speaks independently
as a Stoic. Perhaps a short extract from letter 8 (not included in this
selection) will serve as a helpful guide to interpreting the letters in
particular.
' Seneca writes determinedly in a Latin tradition, but does not hesitate to introduce
Greek terms when it is philosophically appropriate. Since the most important work in
philosophy had been done in Greek, Seneca, like Cicero, must often use Latin tech-
nical terms to represent Greek terms (such as commoda, advantages, for pro
egmena,
preferred indifferents). He is not, however, mechanical in so doing (see Inwood :ooj:
ch. +) and the relevant Greek background and terms are discussed in the commentary as
needed.
xx r+aontc+ro
In the case of our body we see that nature does this [produces a new unity out of
distinct inputs] without any effort on our part.
As long as the food which we ingest keeps its original character and sits intact
in our stomach, it is a burdensome lump. But when the food is transformed from
its original state it is then able to pass into the bloodstream and contribute to our
bodily strength. In the case of the nourishment we take for our intellects, we should
do the same thing and not permit what we consume to remain intactfor fear
that it should be foreign to us. Lets digest it. Otherwise, it will be remembered
but wont affect our intellect. Let us give these things our genuine assent and make
them our very own, so as to create a unity out of plurality, the way one total is
produced out of distinct numbers when a single calculation brings together several
different, lesser sums. This is what our mind should do. It should conceal the ideas
which have helped it along and display only the nal result. If your admiration for
someone leads to the appearance of a deep similarity to that person, Id want that
resemblance to resemble that of a son [to his father] and not that of a picture [to
its model]; a [mere] picture is something dead. (8.8)
Seneca thinks for himself and claims to produce something new and his
own from the sources of his inspiration; we should not expect him to
display all the joints of his intellectual physiognomy.
Perhaps the most engaging feature of Senecas letters is the directness
and urgency of the authors personal voice, that is, of the voice which
he chooses to let us hear. Since this aspect of his thought will not be
much emphasized in the letters chosen and in the comment on them, let
me round out this introduction with Senecas own introduction to the
collection, Letter +.
+. Do it, Lucilius my friend. Reclaim yourself. Assemble and preserve your time,
which has until now been snatched from you, stolen, or just gotten lost. Convince
yourself that what I say is true: some of our time is robbed from us, some burgled,
and some slips out of our hands. The most shameful loss, though, is what happens
through negligence. And if youre willing to pay attention: a good deal of life is
lost for those who conduct it badly; most of it is lost for those who do nothing at
all; but all of life is lost for those who dont pay attention.
:. Who can you show me who values his time? who knows what a day is worth?
who understands that he is dying every day? Our mistake, you see, is in looking
ahead to death. A good deal of death has already passed. The years which have so
far gone by are in the hands of death. So, Lucilius, do what you claim to be doing
and embrace every hour. In that way youll be less dependent on tomorrow if you
set your hand to today. Life its by while things get put off.
. Lucilius, everything belongs to someone else. Only our time is our own.
We have been sent by nature to seize this one possession, which is eeting and
slippery; we can be driven out of it by anyone who cares to do so. People are so
r+aontc+ro xxi
stupid that they let themselves go into debt by acquiring the cheapest and most
trivial things, which they could easily pay off. But no one who has received the
gift of time acknowledges the obligation, even though this is the one thing which
even a grateful man cannot repay.
. Maybe youre going to ask about my own behaviour, since Im giving you all
this advice. Ill make a clean confession. Like a careful spendthrift I keep good
records of my expenditures. I cannot claim that I dont squander anything. But I
could tell you what I squander and why and how. I can give a full account of my
poverty. My experience is like that of most people who are impoverished through
no fault of their own: everyone forgives, no one helps out.
j. So whats the situation? I dont think that anyone is poor if the little bit he still
has is enough for him. Nevertheless, Id rather see you preserve whats yours and
start in good time. For as our ancestors thought,' its too late to pour sparingly
from the bottom of the bottle. There is only a tiny bit left at that point, and that
bit is of the lowest quality.
Whatever his real feelings and motivations, Seneca presents himself in
the Letters as a philosopher in a hurry, as a man interested above all else
in the concrete result of making his life better, as a man with no time
to lose. Further, he presents himself as an imperfect man, someone with
many failings and at least able to claim awareness of his own failings.
There is an urgent sense of the importance of making progress in the
philosophical life, an awareness that the end of life is always near, and an
admission of his own ignorance. Seneca is certainly not a Socrates, but in
these letters we see a dramatic representation of many things which are
central to the Socratic tradition of philosophizing. In the letters which
follow we can see the argumentative and sometimes truculent side of
philosophy as well as its homiletic and self-reective aspects. It is the aim
of this book to emphasize the former, even at the expense of the latter.
The philosophical gain will be considerable, I hope, and if in the process
we can come to a better understanding of why he should have been such
an inuential philosopher for so many centuries that will be an historical
gain as well.
The Selection of Letters
This book represents an attempt to open up Senecas most inuential prose
work, the Letters to Lucilius on Ethics, to a larger and more philosophically
oriented readership than it nowenjoys. Limitations of space and time have
' Hes Op. .
xxii r+aontc+ro
required that only a small number of letters be selected for translation
and comment; this inevitably skews the portrayal of Seneca, but the
distortion will I hope be a useful corrective for the even more unbalanced
representation of Seneca and his philosophical works which prevails today.
Senecas letters form a large and varied corpus, much of which is of only
indirect philosophical interest, and yet the collection is put together in an
orderly and artistic way, with strong thematic interdependences among
the letters which inevitably affect the signicance of individual letters and
of sections within various letters. I have tried to keep such relationships
in mind throughout, but selection inevitably imposes limitations. Hence a
brief word about how the selection was made seems in order.
The integrity of each book of letters (twenty books survive and we
know that originally there were at least twenty-two) is an important fact
about the collection. Despite their outwardly casual manner, great care
went into the crafting of each book as a literary unity. As a representation
of this feature of the letters, Book :o, which contains a very high
concentration of philosophically important letters, is included in its
entirety, although some of its letters would not merit inclusion on their
own. On the other hand, two of the most important letters in the
collection, q and q, are omitted because of their sizeto include them
would make it impossible to include much else, and there is already
an abundant scholarly literature on them. Because Senecas relation to
other philosophical schools is of particular importance for establishing
the interest of his approach to various issues in Stoicism, I begin with 8
and 6, which engage in a very direct manner with issues in Platonism
and Aristotelianism. These letters too (or rather, select portions of them)
have generated a substantial amount of scholarly attention. But too little
of it, in my view, addresses the letters which as wholes are works of
philosophical interest. They have usually been regarded as evidence for
an attempted reconstruction of earlier and mostly non-Stoic philosophy.
My approach is to allow such questions to recede into the background
as I isolate what I take to be the main philosophical issues of these
letters themselves, unexcerpted. Letter 66 is not only of great interest
in connection with 8 and 6, but like several others (y1, y6, 8, 8y)
it tackles central issues in the Stoic theory of value. Consideration of
this set of letters permits an exploration of Senecas attitudes towards
Platonism and Aristotelianism, as well as to earlier phases in the schools
history.
Book :o, which contains seven letters, begins with 118, a letter which is
impossible to appreciate fully without a consideration of 11y, itself one of
r+aontc+ro xxiii
a group of letters that raise important questions about the balance between
technical philosophical writing and a more literary or popular approach
to the main issues of ethics and physics. Because I think that Senecas
position on and contribution to Stoic physics and even metaphysics has
been misunderstood I also include 1o6, 11, and 11y.
The nal tally, then, is seventeen letters, a number coincidentally the
same as that included in a literary collection compiled by C. D. N. Costa
(Seneca: ., Letters (Warminster: Aris and Phillips, +88) ) with which my
selection overlaps by only one letter, 1zz. For convenience I have divided
my seventeen letters into ve groups, but the reader should be warned
that this is a somewhat arbitrary procedure. What is not arbitrary, though,
is my determination to treat each chosen letter as an integral whole rather
than excerpting the parts of each which stand out for the intensity of
their philosophical merit. This kind of excerption has often been practiced
(especially with 8, 6, and 8y), but it inevitably prejudges the nature of
Senecas philosophical endeavour in an unproductive way. Whatever else
Seneca may have intended to accomplish in a given letter, he certainly
wrote each one as an artistic unity and any philosophical interpretation
should begin from a recognition of that fact.
Senecas letters are cited in boldface font (1.1 is Letter +, section +)
without the title of the work. In the translation I retain the section divisions
used in Reynoldss Oxford Classical Text and often the paragraphing as
well. Throughout I adopt Reynoldss text, except where I explicitly signal
disagreement in the notes or commentary; important textual variations
are mentioned briey in the commentary. With regard to gendered usages
(man vs human, for example) I have respected Senecas marked use of
the gendered term for man (vir) and the non-gendered term for humans
(homo) as consistently as I could manage; where the context seems to
demand a gendered interpretation I have used man rather than human
or person as appropriate. Throughout the masculine personal pronoun
is used for generic references to human beings.
A nal note. Each letter begins and ends with the conventional phrases
of Latin letter-writing: Seneca Lucilio suo salutem and Vale (Seneca wishes
health to his friend Lucilius and Farewell, a phrase which literally
means be strong but is also the standard way of saying goodbye in
spoken Latin). These are standard phrases, not personalized to reect
the writers feelings or attitude towards the recipient. Yet Roman letter-
writing conventions are not our own, so that a wholly modern Dear
Lucilius Yours truly would be almost as misleading as omission of
xxiv r+aontc+ro
the epistolary conventions altogether. It is easy to imagine Seneca being
aware at some level that these standard formulae do in fact wish Lucilius
health and strength, a sentiment he surely feels for his friend. Hence
these phrases are translated in a formulaic manner designed to reect
the conventional character of epistolary discourse and still to hint at the
nuances of the Latin: Seneca to Lucilius, greetings: and Farewell.
ABBREVIATIONS AND CONVENTIONS
Abbreviations generally follow the practice of LSJ (Liddell-Scott-Jones,
Greek-English Lexicon) and the OLD (Oxford Latin Dictionary), with the
exception of the following:
Acad. Academica
Ben. De Beneciis
Brev. Vit. De Brevitate Vitae
CHHP Cambridge History of Hellenistic Philosophy
CIAG Commentaria in Aristotelem Graeca
Clem. De Clementia
Cons. Helv. Consolatio ad Helviam Matrem
Cons. Marc. Consolatio ad Marciam
Cons. Polyb. Consolatio ad Polybium
Const. Sap. De Constantia Sapientis
Ecl. Stobaeus, Eclogae
E-K Edelstein-Kidd (+8)
KD Epicurus, Principal Doctrines
LS Long and Sedley (+8y)
NQ Naturales Quaestiones
Prov. De Providentia
SVF Stoicorum Veterum Fragmenta
Tranq. An. De Tranquillitate Animi
TRANSLATIONS
LETTER j8
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. Today more than ever I understood how impoverished, indeed
destitute, our vocabulary is. When we happened to be discussing Plato,
a thousand things came up which needed names but lacked them; but
there were some which, though they used to have names, had lost them
owing to our fussiness. But who would tolerate fussiness in the midst of
destitution?
:. What the Greeks call the gady, which stampedes livestock and
drives them all over their pastures, used to be called asilus by Romans.
You can trust Vergil on the point:
There is, near the grove of the Silarus River and the Alburnus green with
holm-oaks,
A multitude of ies, whose Roman name is asilus but which the Greeks have
translated and call gady
harsh, with a strident sound, by which whole herds of cattle are terried and
driven throughout the forest.'
It can, I think, be understood that the word had become obsolete.
. Not to keep you unduly; certain non-compound verbs used to be
current; e.g., they used to say settle it [cernere] by the sword. Vergil will
prove this for you too:
Powerful men, born in various parts of the world,
Clashed and settled it by the sword.
We now say decernere for this. The currency of that non-compound verb
has been lost.
. The ancients said if I command, i.e., if I should command. I dont
want you to take my word for this, but Vergils again:
Let the rest of the soldiers charge alongside me, where I command.
' Vergil, Georgics .+jo.
Vergil, Aeneid +:.yo8.
Vergil, Aeneid ++.y.
+a+sr++ros
j. My present aim with this attention to detail is not to show how much
time I have squandered on grammatical commentators, but to help you
understand how many words in Ennius and Accius have been overtaken
by disusesince some terms even in Vergil, who is studied daily, have
been lost to us.
. Youre asking, What is the point of this introduction? Whats the
purpose? I wont hide it from you. I want, if possible, to use the term
essentia with your approval; but if that is not possible I will use the term
even if it annoys you. I can cite Cicero as an authority for this word, an
abundantly inuential one in my view. If you are looking for someone
more up-to-date, I can cite Fabianus, who is learned and sophisticated,
with a style polished enough even for our contemporary fussiness. For
what will happen, Lucilius [if we dont allow essentia]? How will [the
Greek term] ousia be referred to, an indispensable thing, by its nature
containing the foundation of all things? So I beg you to permit me to use
this word. Still, I shall take care to use the permission you grant very
sparingly. Maybe Ill be content just to have the permission.
y. What good will your indulgence do when I can nd no way to
express in Latin the very notion which provoked my criticism of our
language? Your condemnation of our Roman limitations will be more
intense if you nd out that there is a one-syllable word for which I cannot
nd a substitute. What syllable is this, you ask? To on. You think I am
dull-wittedit is obvious that the word can be translated as what is. But
I see a big difference between the terms. I am forced to replace a noun
with a verb. But if I must, I will use what is.
8. Our friend, a very learned person, was saying today that this term
has six senses in Plato. I will be able to explain all of them to you, if I
rst point out that there is such a thing as a genus and so too a species.
But we are now looking for that primary genus on which other species
depend and which is the source of every division and in which all things
are included. It will be found if we start to pick things out, one by one,
starting in reverse order. We will thus be brought to the primary [genus].
. Human is a species, as Aristotle says, horse is a species, dog is a
species. So we have to look for something common to them all, a linkage
which contains them and is ranged above them. What is this? Animal. So
there starts to be a genus for all those things I just mentioned (human,
horse, dog), viz. animal.
+o. But some things have a soul but are not animals. For it is generally
agreed that plants too have a soul, and so we say that they live and die.
Therefore ensouled [living] things will have a higher rank because both
rr++ra j8 j
animals and plants are in this category. But some things lack soul (rocks,
e.g.). Therefore there will be something more basic than ensouled things,
viz. body. I will divide it in such a way as to claim that all bodies are either
ensouled or soulless.
++. Furthermore, there is something superior to body; for we say
that some things are corporeal and some are incorporeal. So what will
the source of these things be? That to which we just now assigned the
inappropriate name what is. For it will be divided into species in such a
way that we can say: what is is either corporeal or incorporeal.
+:. This, therefore, is the primary and most basic genusthe generic
genus, so to speak. The others are genera, to be sure, but specic genera.
For example, human is a genus, since it contains within itself as species
nationalities (Greeks, Romans, Parthians) andcolours (white, black, blond-
haired); it also contains individuals (Cato, Cicero, Lucretius). So in so far
as it contains many, it is classied as a genus; in so far as it falls under some
other, it is classied as a species. The generic genus what is has nothing
above itself; it is the starting point for things; everything falls under it.
+. The Stoics want to put above this yet another genus which is more
fundamental. I will address this presently, once I have shown that it is
right to treat the genus I have already spoken of as primary, since it
contains everything.
+. I divide what is into these species: things are corporeal or incor-
poreal; there is no third possibility. How do I divide body? So that I can
say: they are either ensouled or soulless. Again, how do I divide ensouled
things? So that I can say this: some have mind, some merely have soul or
this: some have impulse, move, and relocate; and some are fastened in
the ground, nourished by roots, and grow. Again, into what species do I
divide animals? They are either mortal or immortal.
+j. Some Stoics think that the primary genus is something. I will add
an account of why they think so. They say, in nature, some things are,
some are not, but nature embraces even those things which are not and
which occur to the mind (such as Centaurs, Giants, and whatever else
is shaped by an erroneous thought process and begins to take on some
appearance, although it does not have reality).
+. Now I return to the topic I promised you: how Plato divides all the
things that are into six senses. The rst what is is not grasped by vision,
by touch, or by any sense. It is thinkable. What is in a generic way, e.g.,
generic human, is not subject to being seen. But a specic human is, such
as Cicero and Cato. Animal is not seen; it is thought. But its species, horse
and dog, are seen.
+a+sr++ros
+y. Plato puts second among things which are that which is outstanding
and surpasses everything. He says that this is par excellence. Poet is a
common descriptionfor this name is given to all who compose verses;
but among the Greeks it has yielded to the fame of one. When you hear
the poet you understand Homer. So what is this [which Plato says is
par excellence]? God, of course, greater and more powerful than everything
else.
+8. There is a third genus of things which are in the proper sense.
They are countless but located beyond our view. What, you ask, are they?
Its a bit of Platos personal baggage; he calls them ideas; they are the
source of everything we see and all things are shaped by reference to them.
They are deathless, unchangeable, immune to harm.
+. Listen to what an idea is, i.e., what Plato thinks it is. An idea is the
eternal model of those things which are produced by nature. I will add
to the denition an interpretation so that it will be clearer to you. I want
to produce an image of you. I have you as a model for the painting, from
which our mind derives a certain disposition which it imposes on its work.
In this way the appearance which teaches me and guides me, the source
of the imitation, is an idea. Nature, then, contains an indenite number
of such modelsof humans, sh, trees. Whatever is to be produced by
nature is shaped with reference to them.
:o. Form will have fourth place. You need to pay close attention to
the account of what form is. Blame Plato, not me, for the difculty of the
topic: there is no technicality without difculty. A moment ago I used the
example of a painter. When he wanted to render Vergil with colours, he
looked at Vergil himself. The idea was Vergils appearance, a model for
the intended work. The form is that which the artisan derives from the
appearance and imposed on his own work.
:+. You ask, what is the difference between idea and form? The one is
a model, while the other is a shape taken from the model and imposed on
the work. The artisan imitates the one and produces the other. A statue
has a certain appearancethis is its form. The model itself has a certain
appearance which the workman looked at when he shaped the statue. This
is the idea. If you still want a further distinction, the form is in the work
and the idea outside itand not only outside it but prior to it.
::. The fthgenus is of those things whichare inthe ordinarily accept-
ed sense. These begin to be relevant to us; everything is herehumans,
herds, possessions. The sixth genus is of those things which as it were
are, such as the void, such as time.
rr++ra j8 y
Plato does not count the things we see or touch among those that he
thinks are in the strict sense. For they are in ux and constantly engaged
in shrinkage and growth. None of us is the same in old age as in youth.
None of us is the same the next day as he was the day before. Our bodies
are swept along like rivers. Whatever you see runs with [the passage of]
time. None of what we see is stable. I myself, while saying that those
things are changing, have changed.
:. This is what Heraclitus says: we do and do not enter the same river
twice. The name of the river stays the same, the water has passed on. This
is more apparent in a river than in a human being, but a current no less
rapid sweeps us along too. And so I am puzzled by our madness, in that
we are so in love with a thing so eetingour bodyand fear that we
might die someday when in fact every moment is the death of a prior state.
You oughtnt to be afraid that what happens daily might happen once!
:. I referred to a human being, a uid and perishable bit of matter
prey to all sorts of causes. The cosmos too, an eternal, invincible object,
changes and does not stay the same. Although it contains within itself all
that it ever had, it has them differently than it did before. It changes the
order.
:j. What good, you ask, will this technicality do for me? None, if
you ask me. But just as the engraver relaxes, refreshes and, as they say,
nourishes his eyes, tired from lengthy concentration, so too we should
sometimes relax our mind and refresh it with certain amusements. But
let the amusements themselves be work and from them too, if you pay
attention, you will gain something which could turn out to be good for
you.
:. This, Lucilius, is what I normally do: from every notion, even if it
is quite remote from philosophy, I try to dig out something and make it
useful. What is more remote from the improvement of our habits than the
discourse I just gave? How can the Platonic ideas make me better? What
could I derive from them that might control my desires? Maybe just this,
that all those things which serve the senses, which ename and stimulate
usPlato says that they are not among the things which truly are.
:y. Therefore they are like images and have a merely temporary
appearance; none of them is stable and reliable. And yet we desire them
as though they would be forever or as though we would possess them
forever. We are weak and uid beings amidst emptiness. Let us direct
our mind to what is eternal. Let us soar aloft and marvel at the shapes of
all things and god circulating among them, taking care that he keep from
8 +a+sr++ros
death what he could not make immortal due to the impediments of matter
and that he conquer bodily defects with rationality.
:8. For all things endure not because they are eternal but because
they are protected by a rulers concern; immortal things would need no
protector. The craftsman keeps them safe by conquering the fragility
of matter with his own power. Let us despise all things which are
so far from being valuable that it is open to question whether they
even are.
:. Let us at the same time consider this, that if he by his foresight
protects the cosmos itself (which is no less mortal than we are) from
dangers, then to some extent by our own foresight our sojourn in this
pathetic body can also be prolonged considerablyif we can rule and rein
in the pleasures, by which most people perish.
o. Plato himself extended his life into old age by taking care of himself.
To be sure, he was fortunate enough to have a strong and healthy body
(his broad chest gave him his name), but his voyages and dangerous
adventures had greatly diminished his strength. But frugality, moderation
with respect to things that elicit greed, and attentive care for himself got
him through to old age despite many adverse factors.
+. For I think you know that thanks to his attentive care for himself
it was Platos fortune to die on his own birthday, having lived exactly
8+ years. So the magi who happened to be in Athens sacriced to him in
death, supposing that his fortune was superhuman in that he had lived out
the most perfect numberwhich they make by multiplying nine times
nine. I am pretty sure that you would be willing to give up a few days from
the total and also the cult offering.
:. Parsimonious living can prolong ones old age, and though I dont
think it should be longed for I also dont think it should be rejected either.
It is pleasant to be with oneself as long as possible when one has made
oneself worth spending time with. And so we will render a verdict on
the question whether it is appropriate to be fussy about the nal stages
of old age and not to just wait for the end but to bring it about directly.
Someone who sluggishly considers his approaching fate is close to being
fearful; just as someone who drains the wine jar and sucks up the dregs
too is immoderately devoted to wine.
. Still, we will investigate this issue: is the nal stage of life dregs
or something very clear and pureif only the intelligence is undamaged
and sound senses assist the mind and the body is not worn out and dead
before its time. For it makes a big difference whether it is life or death that
one is prolonging.
rr++ra j8
. But if the body is useless for its duties, why wouldnt it be appropriate
to escort the failing mind out the door? And perhaps it is to be done a little
before it needs to be, to avoid the situation where you are unable to do
it when it needs to be done. And since there is a greater danger in living
badly than there is in dying swiftly, he is a fool who doesnt buy out the
risk of a great misfortune by paying a small price in time. Few make it
to their deaths intact if old age is greatly prolonged; many have a passive
life, lying there unable to make use of themselves. In the end, there is no
crueller loss in life than the loss of the right to end it.
j. Dont listen to me reluctantly, as though this maxim already applies
to you, and do evaluate what I am saying. I will not abandon my old age
if it leaves me all of myself, but that means all of the better part. But if it
starts to weaken my intelligence, to dislodge its parts, if what it leaves me
is not a life but just being alive, then I shall jump clear of a decayed and
collapsing building.
. I shall not ee disease by means of death, as long as it is curable
and does not impede the mind. I will not do violence to myself because
of pain. Such a death is a defeat. But if I see that I have to suffer pain
ceaselessly, I will make my exit, not because of pain but because it will be
an obstacle for me with regard to the whole point of living. He who dies
because of pain is weak and cowardly, but he who lives for pain is a fool.
y. But I digress too long. It is still a topic one could spend the day
onbut how can someone put an end to his life if he cannot put an end
to his letter? So be well: youll be happier to read that than non-stop talk
about death.
Farewell.
LETTER j
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. I shared yesterday with my poor health. It claimed the morning for
itself and yielded to me in the afternoon. So I rst tested my mind by
reading; then, when it tolerated this activity I made bold to ask more of
itrather, to allow it more. I wrote a bit, more vigorously than usual,
in fact, since I was grappling with tough material and didnt want to be
beaten. I wrote until some friends interrupted me to bar me forcibly from
working, as though I were an obstreperous patient.
:. Talking replaced writing, and I will report to you the part of our
conversationwhichremains contentious. We have made youour arbitrator.
It is a bigger job than you think: the case has three parts.
As you know, those of our school, the Stoics, say that there are two
things in nature from which everything comes to be, cause and matter.
Matter is passive, suitable for anything and bound to remain idle if no
one moves it. But cause, i.e., reason, shapes matter, turns it wherever it
wishes, and generates from it a wide range of works. So a thing must have
a source of becoming and an agent of becoming. The former is its matter
and the latter its cause.
. Every craft is an imitation of nature, and so apply what I was saying
about the universe to the artefacts which humans make. A statue had
matter, to yield to the artisan, and an artisan, to give a shape to the matter.
So in the case of the statue the material was the bronze and the cause was
the workman. The same state of affairs holds for all thingsthey consist
of that which becomes and that which makes.
. The Stoic view is that there is one cause, that which makes.
Aristotle thinks that cause is said in three ways. The rst cause, he says,
is the material itself, without which nothing can be produced. The second
is the workman. The third is the form, which is imposed on each work as
it is on a statue. For Aristotle calls this the form. A fourth cause, he says
accompanies these: the purpose of the entire product.
j. I will explain what this is.
rr++ra j ++
The bronze is the rst cause of a statue; for it never would have been
made if there had not existed the material from which it could be cast or
shaped. The second cause is the artisan. For the bronze could not have
been shaped into the conguration of a statue unless skilled hands were
applied to it. The third cause is the form. For the statue would not be
called the spear-carrier or the boy tying up his hair unless this shape
had been imposed on it. The fourth cause is the purpose of making it. For
if there had been no purpose the statue would not have been made.
. What is the purpose? It is what motivated the artisan, what he sought
in making it. Either it is money (if he produced it for sale) or glory (if he
worked for renown) or piety (if he made it as a temple offering). Therefore
this too is a cause on account of which it is made. Or do you not think we
should count as a cause that in whose absence the artefact would not have
been produced?
y. To these causes Plato adds a fth, the model, which he himself
calls an idea. For this is what the artisan looked to in making what he
planned to make. And in fact it is not relevant whether he has an external
model to which he can direct his gaze, or an internal model which he
himself conceived of and placed there. God has within himself models
of all things and he has grasped with his intellect the aspects and modes
of every thing which is to be done. He is full of the shapes which Plato
calls ideas immortal, unchanging, and untiring. So humans pass away,
of course, but human-ness itself, with reference to which a human being
is shaped, persists. Human beings may struggle and die, but it suffers
nothing.
8. So, on Platos view, there are ve causes: that from which, that by
which, that in which, that with reference to which, that because of which.
Last of all is that which comes from them. For example, a statue (since
I have already begun to use this example). The from which is bronze,
the by which is the artisan, the in which is the form which is tted to
the matter, the with reference to which is the model which the maker
imitates, the because of which is the purpose of the maker, and what
comes from them is the statue itself.
. The cosmos too, according to Plato, has all of them: a maker (this is
god), a from which (this is matter), a form (this is the conguration and
order of the visible cosmos), a model (i.e., what god looked to in making
this vast and most beautiful work), and a purpose because of which he
made it.
+o. You ask, what is gods purpose? Goodness. So, to be sure, Plato
says, What was the cause for god making the cosmos? That he is good.
+: +a+sr++ros
A good person does not begrudge any good thing, and so he made it as
good as possible.
All right, then, you be the judge and give a verdict, proclaim which one
seems to say what most closely resembles the truth, not which one says
what is truestfor that is as far above us as is truth itself.
++. The swarmof causes which is posited by Plato and Aristotle includes
either too many or too few. For if they decide that the cause of making
something is anything whose absence means that the thing cannot be
made, then they have stated too few. Let them include time among the
causes; nothing can be made without time. Let theminclude place; if there
isnt a place for something to be made it surely wont be made. Let them
include motion. Nothing is either done or perishes without it; there is no
craft without motion, no change.
+:. But what we are now looking for is a primary and generic cause.
This should be simple, since matter too is simple. Do we ask what cause
is? To be sure, it is reason in action, i.e., god. For all those things you
people have cited are not many distinct causes; rather, they depend on
one, the active cause.
+. Do you say that the form is a cause? The artisan imposes it on
his work. It is a part of the cause, not the cause. The model too is not
a cause but a means necessary for the cause. The model is necessary for
the artisan just as the scraper and the le are necessary. Without these the
craft cannot make progress, but still they are not parts or causes of the
craft.
+. He says, The purpose of the artisan, because of which he proceeds
to make something, is also a cause. Granted that it is a cause, it is not an
efcient cause but a subsequent cause. But there are countless causes of
this sort, and we are asking about a generic cause. But they werent using
their customary sophistication when they said that the entire cosmos, i.e.,
the nished work, is a cause. For there is a big difference between the
work and the cause of the work.
+j. Either give a verdict, or, as is easier in such matters, say that it is
not clear to you and tell us to re-argue the case.
You say, What pleasure do you take in wasting time on those issues,
ones that do not strip you of any passion or ward off any desire?
In fact I am dealing with those more important issues, the ones that
soothe the mind, and I investigate myself rst and then this cosmos.
+. And I am not wasting time even now, as you think. For if all
those issues are not chopped up and dispersed into this kind of pointless
technicality, they elevate and relieve the mind, which, being burdened by
rr++ra j +
its great load, desires to be set free and to return to the things it used
to be part of. For this body is a burden and a penalty for the mind. It
is oppressed by its weight and is in chains unless philosophy comes to it
and urges it to take its ease before the sight of nature and directs it away
from what is earthly and towards the divine. This is its freedom, this is its
escape. From time to time it slips away from the prison in which it is held
and is refreshed by the [sight of the] heavens.
+y. Just as artisans who work on some quite detailed job which wearies
their eyes with concentration, if they have to rely on bad and uncertain
lighting, come out in the open and treat their eyes to the light in some area
devoted to the public leisureso too the mind, enclosed in this sad and
gloomy dwelling, seeks the open air and takes its ease in the contemplation
of nature as often as it can.
+8. He who is wise and pursues wisdom clings to his body, but even so
with the best part of himself he is elsewhere and focusses his thoughts on
higher matters. Like a soldier under oath he thinks of this life as a tour of
duty; and he has been trained to neither love nor hate life, and he puts up
with mortal matters though he knows that higher things await him.
+. Do you ban me from an investigation of nature, drag me away from
the whole and conne me to a part? Shall I not investigate the principles
of all things? Who gave them form? Who made distinctions among things
which were melded into one and enmeshed in passive matter? Shall I not
enquire who is the artisan of this cosmos? Howso great a mass was reduced
to lawlike structure? Who gathered the scattered bits, who separated what
was combined and brought shape to things lying in unsightly neglect?
Where did this great light come from? Is it re or something brighter than
re?
:o. Shall I not ask these questions? Shall I remain ignorant of my
origins? Am I to see these things just once or am I to be born many times?
Where am I to go from here? What residence awaits the soul when it is
freed from the laws of human servitude? You forbid me to meddle with
the heavens, i.e., you order me to live with bowed head.
:+. I am greater than that and born for greater things than to be a slave
to my body, which I think of as no different than a chain fastened about
my freedom. So I position it as a defence against fortune, so that she will
stop right there; I permit no wound to get through the body to me. This
is the only part of me which can suffer wrongs. A free mind lives in this
vulnerable dwelling.
::. That esh will never drive me to fear, never to pretence unworthy
of a good person; I shall never lie to show respect for this paltry body.
+ +a+sr++ros
When I see t, I shall dissolve my partnership with it. Even now, however,
while we cling together, we will not be partners on equal terms. The mind
will reserve all rights to itself. To despise ones body is a reliable freedom.
:. To return to my point, even the investigation we were just discussing
will make a substantial contribution to this freedom. To be sure, all things
are formed from matter and god. God regulates those things which
surround and follow him as guide and leader. But the active principle, i.e.,
god, is more powerful and more valuable than the matter which submits
to god.
:. The place which god occupies in this cosmos corresponds to minds
place in a human being. Matter there corresponds to the body in us. So
let the inferior serve the better. Let us be brave in the face of chance
circumstances; let us not tremble at wrongs nor at wounds, neither at
chains nor at want. What is death? Either an end or a transition. I am not
afraid to come to an endthat is the same as not having startednor to
move onbecause I will not be so conned anywhere else.
Farewell.
LETTER
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. Claranus was a fellow student of mine and I have seen him again
after many years. You dont have to wait, I think, for me to add that the
man I saw was old. But good heavens, he was youthful and vigorous in
mind even as he struggled with his frail body. For nature has been unfair
and found a poor location for a mind of his calibre. Or maybe she wanted
to demonstrate to us this very point, that a spirit of the greatest courage
and happiness can be concealed beneath any surface. Nevertheless, he has
conquered every obstacle and gone from despising himself to despising
everything else.
:. The poet who said virtue which radiates from a beautiful body
is the more pleasing' was wrong, in my opinion. For virtue needs no
embellishment. It is itself a signicant adornment and makes its body
blessed too. I certainly began to look at my friend Claranus in a new way:
I think he is attractive and as straight in body as he is in mind.
. A great man can come from a humble hut; an attractive and great
mind can come even from an ugly and modest body. And so I think that
nature produces certain such people just to conrm that virtue can come
to exist in any place. If she were able to create naked minds she would have
done so; now she does something better. She creates certain people who
are physically impeded but who nevertheless break through the obstacles.
. I think Claranus was created as an exemplar, so that we could know
that the mind is not deled by bodily impairment but that the body is
adorned by mental beauty. However, although we were together for only a
very few days, we nevertheless had many conversations which I promptly
wrote up and will pass on to you.
j. On the rst day our question was how all goods can be equal if
they come in three different kinds. Certain goods, as our school thinks,
are primary (e.g., joy, peace, the safety of the fatherland); certain goods
are secondary, being manifested in unfortunate circumstances (e.g., the
endurance of torture and self-control when seriously ill). We will wish the
' Vergil, Aeneid j.
+ +a+sr++ros
former goods for ourselves unconditionally and the latter only if necessary.
There are in addition tertiary goods (e.g., a decorous gait, an expression
which is sedate and proper, and a posture which is suitable for a man of
good sense).
. How can these be equal to each other when some are to be chosen
and others are to be avoided?
If we want to distinguish them, let us go back to the primary good and
reect on what it is like. It is a mind which (i) contemplates the truth, (ii)
is experienced in the matter of what should be pursued and what avoided,
(iii) assigns values to things in accordance with nature and not on the basis
of mere opinion, (iv) involves itself in the whole cosmos and directs its
reection to all of its [i.e., the cosmoss] actions, (v) is focussed on thought
and action in a balanced manner, (vi) is great, energetic, unconquered by
hardship and pleasures alike and submissive to neither circumstance, (vii)
rising above everything which happens to befall it, (viii) is very beautiful,
well ordered with regard to both charm and strength, (ix) is sound and
sober, undisturbed and fearless, immune to violent blows, neither elated
nor depressed by the events of fortune. Virtue is this kind of mind.
y. This is what it looks like if it is considered all at once and displays the
whole of itself. But it does have many appearances which are deployed in
accordance with different situations in life and its actions. Virtue itself does
not become either less or greater. For the highest good cannot shrink nor
can virtue backslide. But it is transformed into many different qualities,
shaped according to the disposition of the actions which it is to undertake.
8. Virtue colours and assimilates to itself whatever it touches; it adorns
actions, friendships, sometimes even whole households which it has come
into and regulated. Whatever it has handled it makes loveable, outstanding,
admirable. And so its power and magnitude cannot rise higher, since what
is greatest has no room for growth. You will nd nothing straighter than
the straight, nothing truer than the true, nothing more balanced than what
is balanced.
. Every virtue consists in a limit, and the limit has a xed measure.
Constancyhas noroomtoincrease anymore thanintegrityor truthor trust-
worthiness. What can accrue to the perfect? Nothing; otherwise, that to
which there was accrual wasnt perfect in the rst place. Therefore nothing
can accrue to virtue, which, if anything can be added, was defective in the
rst place. The honourable too admits of no increase, for it exists because
of the characteristics I have mentioned. What then? Dont you think that
the tting and the just and the lawful are of the same type, bounded by
denite limits? The ability to increase is a mark of something imperfect.
rr++ra +y
+o. Every good is subject to the same terms. Private and public utility
are linked, to the same extent, good heavens, as what is praiseworthy and
what is choiceworthy are inseparable. Therefore the virtues are equal to
each other and so are the works of virtue and all people who have attained
the virtues.
++. Since plants and animals are mortal, their virtues too are fragile,
transitory, and unstable. They leap forward and fall back and thus are not
given a consistent value. But we use one standard for the human virtues,
since right reason is one and straightforward. Nothing is more divine than
the divine, nothing more heavenly than the heavenly.
+:. Mortal things are depleted and pass away, they are worn down
and they grow, they are emptied out and relled; and so they have an
inconsistency which comports well with their unstable condition; divine
things have a single nature. But reason is nothing but a part of the divine
breath plunged into the human body; if reason is divine, and no good
is without reason, then everything good is divine. Further, there is no
distinction among divine things, and so there is also no distinction among
good things. Therefore joy and a brave, determined endurance of torture
are equal; for in each there is the same greatness of mind; in the one it is
calm and relaxed and in the other it is aggressive and tense.
+. What? Do you not think that the virtue of the man who bravely
storms the enemies walls and of the man who endures the siege with
tremendous long-suffering are equal? Great was Scipio, who surrounded
and blockaded Numantia and drove to suicide the enemy he could not
defeat; great too was the resolve of the besieged, which knew that someone
for whom death is an open prospect and who breathes his last in the
embrace of freedom is not completely surrounded. The other [virtues] are
just as equal to each other: tranquillity, straightforwardness, generosity,
constancy, equanimity, endurance. For one virtue underlies them all, a
virtue which makes the mind straight and unswerving.
+. What, then? Is there no difference between joy and the unbending
endurance of pains? None, as far as the virtues themselves are concerned,
but there is a very big difference between the circumstances in which each
virtue is displayed. In the one case there is a natural ease and relaxation
of the mind, and in the other an unnatural pain. Therefore those things
which admit of a very great difference are intermediates; virtue is the same
in both.
+j. The rawmaterial does not change the virtue. Tough and demanding
material does not make it worse, nor is it made better by cheerful and light-
hearted material; it must, therefore, be equal. In both cases what is done is
+8 +a+sr++ros
done with equal correctness, equal prudence, equal honour. Therefore the
goods are equal, and beyond these limits the one person cannot comport
himself better in his joy nor can the other comport himself better in his
pain. And two things than which nothing can be better are equal.
+. For if things extrinsic to virtue can either diminish it or enhance it,
then what is honourable ceases to be the sole good. If you grant this, then
the honourable has utterly perished. Why? I will tell you: because nothing
is honourable which is done by someone who is reluctant or compelled.
Everything honourable is voluntary. Mix it with foot-dragging, complaint,
hesitation, fearit has lost what is best in itself, its contentment. What is
not free cannot be honourable, for if something is afraid it is a slave.
+y. Everything honourable is untroubled, calm. If it rejects anything,
laments it, if it judges that something is bad, then it has admitted
disturbance and is enmeshed in great dissension. From one side the sight
of what is straight beckons, from the other unease about what is bad pulls
himback. And so he who is setting out to do something honourably should
not think that any of the obstacles is bad, even if he thinks it dispreferred,
but he should be willing and eager to do it. Everything honourable is
autonomous and uncompelled, pure and mixed with nothing bad.
+8. I know what the reply to me might be at this point. Are you trying
to persuade us of the proposition that it makes no difference whether
someone experiences joy or lies upon the rack and wears out his torturer?
I could reply that Epicurus too says that the wise person, even if he
is burned in the bull of Phalaris, will cry out, This is pleasant and it
is nothing to me! Why are you surprised if I say that the goods are
equal <of two people, the one reclining at a dinner party> and the other
standing most bravely amidst tortures, when Epicurus makes an even
more incredible claim, that it is pleasant to be tortured?
+. But I will in fact reply that there is a very great difference between
joy and pain; if someone were to ask me for my selection, then I would
pursue the one and avoid the other. The one is natural and the other
unnatural. As long as they are assessed in this manner, they differ from
each other by a big margin; but when it comes to virtue, each instance of
virtue is equal, the one accompanied by happy circumstances and the one
accompanied by regrettable circumstances.
:o. Aggravation and pain and anything else which is dispreferred have
no weight; they are overwhelmed by virtue. Just as the brilliance of the sun
obscures very small lights, so virtue, by its magnitude, crushes and sties
pains, annoyances, and injustices. And wherever virtue shines, anything
which appears without it is there extinguished. Dispreferred things, when
rr++ra +
they co-occur with virtue, make no more impact than a rain shower does
on the ocean.
:+. In order for you to see that this is so: a good man will rush into
every noble deed without any hesitation. Though the executioner might
be standing there, the torturer and his re, he will carry on and consider
not what he is about to suffer but what he is about to accomplish, and
he will entrust himself to an honourable situation as to a good man. He
will adjudge it a source of benet to himself, of safety, of prosperity. A
situation which is honourable, but at the same time bitter and harsh, will
play the same role in his thinking as a good man who is poor, or an exile,
<or starving> and pale.
::. Come then, put on the one side a good man overowing with wealth,
and opposite him a good man who has nothing, but with everything within
himself. Each man will be equally good, even if their fortunes are unequal.
As I said, we make the same judgement of situations as we do of people.
Virtue is equally praiseworthy when situated in a strong and free body
and when in one that is sick and in chains.
:. Therefore you wont praise your own virtue any the more if fortune
gives you a sound body than if it is maimed in some respect. Otherwise,
it will be like valuing the master on the basis of his slaves livery. For all
those things over which chance exercises power are servile: money, body,
public ofcethey are weak, transient, mortal, unreliable possessions.
On the other hand, the things which are free and invincible works of
virtue are those which are no more worth pursuing if they are treated
more kindly by fortune and no less worth pursuing if they are aficted by
some unfairness in the world.
:. Pursuit is to a situation what friendship is to people. You would
not, I think, love a good man who is rich more than one who is poor,
nor one who is strong and muscular more than one who is skinny and
weak. Therefore, you would not pursue or love a situation more if it were
light-hearted and trouble-free than if it were conicted and laborious.
:j. Or if this is the case, then of two men who are equally good you will
cherish more the one who is sleek and well groomed than the one who is
dirty and bristly; then by this route you will get to the point where you
cherish more the man who is sound in all his limbs and free of wounds
than one who is weak or blind in one eye; little by little your fussiness
will advance until, of two equally just and prudent men you will prefer
the one with the fancy haircut and curls. When virtue is equal in both,
the inequality of other factors disappears; for all these other things are not
parts but adjuncts.
:o +a+sr++ros
:. Surely no one will wield such unfair judgement with regard to his
children that he would cherish more a healthy son than a sick one, one who
is tall and striking than one who is short or middle-sized? Beasts do not
discriminate among their offspring and they give suck to them all equally;
birds share the food equally [among their chicks]. Ulysses hastened home
to the rocks of his beloved Ithaca just as Agamemnon did to the noble
walls of Mycenae; for no one loves his homeland because it is great, but
because it is his own.
:y. What is the relevance of this? To show you that virtue looks upon
all its works with the same eyes, as though they were its offspring, is
equally kind to all indeed, is more lavish to those who are struggling,
since parental love inclines more towards those whom it pities. It is not
that virtue has greater love for those of its works which it sees aficted and
oppressed, but like good parents it does embrace and cherish them more
warmly.
:8. Why is no good greater than any other? Because nothing ts better
than the tting, and nothing is atter than what is at. You cannot say
that one thing is more equal to something than another; therefore you also
cannot say that anything is more honourable than what is honourable.
:. But if the nature of all the virtues is equal, then the three kinds
of goods are on an equal footing. What I am saying is that rejoicing in a
self-controlled manner and feeling pain in a self-controlled manner are on
an equal footing. Light-heartedness in one context does not outweigh the
steadfastness of mind which swallows groans under torture. Those goods
are choiceworthy, these are admirable, but nevertheless both are equal,
because whatever in them is dispreferred is obliterated by the impact of a
much greater good.
o. Whoever thinks that these goods are unequal is turning his eyes
away from the virtues themselves and considering externals. True goods
have the same weight and the same extent; the false ones contain a
great deal of empty space, and so they are impressive and big when
you look straight at them, but when they are put on the scales they
disappoint.
+. So it is, Lucilius. Whatever genuine reason vouches for is solid and
long-lasting, strengthens the mind and raises it to great heights where it
will remain forever. The objects of empty praise, things which are good
only in the opinion of the crowd, produce conceit in those who rejoice over
vanities. Again, those things which are feared as being bad strike terror
into their mindsthey are driven by the mere appearance of danger, as
wild animals are.
rr++ra :+
:. Therefore each of these things groundlessly excites and depresses
the mind; those things are not worthy of joy nor are their opposites worthy
of fear. Only reason is unchangeable and rm in its judgement. For it
does not obey the senses but commands them. Reason is equal to reason,
just as the straight is equal to the straight. So too virtue is equal to virtue,
since virtue is nothing except straight reason. All the virtues are instances
of reason; they are reason if they are straight, and if they are straight they
are equal.
. The quality of actions is determined by the corresponding reasoning;
therefore all of them are equal. For since they are similar to the reasoning,
they are also similar to each other. But I say that actions are similar
to each other in so far as they are honourable and straight; still, they
will have signicant differences since the raw material varies; it is more
generous in one case and more constrained in another; high-born in one
case and base-born in another; affects many in one case, few in another.
Still, in all these circumstances that which is best is equal: the actions are
honourable.
. Similarly, all good men are equal in so far as they are good but
still have differences in age (one is older, another younger), in bodily
endowment (one is attractive, another ugly), and in circumstance (one is
rich, another poor, one is inuential and powerful, well known to various
cities and peoples, and another is unknown to most people and obscure).
But with regard to that because of which they are good they are equal.
j. The sensory capacity does not form judgements about good and
bad things; it doesnt know what is useful and what is useless. It cannot
reach a verdict unless it is brought to the scene of the action. It can neither
foresee the future nor recall the past. It has no inkling of consequence.
Yet from it are woven the order and sequence of events and the unity of
a life which will run straight. Hence it is reason which is the arbiter of
what is good and bad; it puts a low value on things which are foreign and
external and judges that things which are neither good nor bad are trivial
and frivolous add-ons, since for reason all good is situated in the mind.
. However, reason does regard certain goods as being primary, goods
which it approaches on purpose: for example, victory, good children, the
salvation of our fatherland; others it thinks of as secondary, goods which
only turn up in adverse circumstances: for example, suffering illness, re,
or exile with equanimity; yet others it thinks of as intermediate, things
which are no more according to nature than they are contrary to nature:
for example, prudent walking, orderly sitting. For it is no less according
to nature to sit than to stand or to walk.
:: +a+sr++ros
y. The rst two kinds of good are distinct. For the primary are
according to nature (rejoicing at the dutiful behaviour of ones children,
the preservation of ones fatherland), while the secondary goods are
contrary to nature (bravely resisting torture and enduring thirst when
disease burns up ones innards).
8. What then? Is anything which is contrary to nature good? Not at
all. But sometimes the circumstances in which the good arises are contrary
to nature. For being wounded and melting over the re and being aficted
with poor health are contrary to nature, but it is according to nature to
preserve ones mental vigour amidst them.
. To set forth my point briey: the raw material for the good is
sometimes contrary to nature, but the good never is, since no good exists
without reason and reason follows nature. So, what is reason? The
imitation of nature. What is the highest good for human beings? To
comport oneself in accordance with the will of nature.
o. The objection is put, There is no doubt that peace is happier if it is
never threatened than if it is regained by bloody battle. There is no doubt,
it is maintained, that unthreatened good health is a happier state of affairs
than health salvaged by special effort and endurance from serious illnesses
which threaten the most dreadful outcomes. In the same way there is no
doubt that joy is a greater good than a mind straining to endure the pain
of wounds or burns.
+. Not in the least. For the things which are subject to chance admit
of a very great deal of difference, since they are evaluated on the basis of
their use to those who choose them. Goods have but one purpose, to agree
with nature. This is equal in them all. When we concur with someones
opinion in the senate it cannot be said that one senator gave assent more
than another did. All supported the same opinion. I say the same for the
virtues: they all assent to nature. I say the same for goods: they all assent
to nature.
:. One man dies in youth, another in old age, another right in infancy
with no chance to do more than to glimpse life. All of them were mortal
in equal measure, even if death allowed the lives of some to carry on for
quite a while, cut short the lives of others at the height of their powers,
and cut off others right at the beginning.
. One man is released in the middle of dinner; someone elses death
was a mere extension of sleep; having sex snuffed out another. Contrast to
them men who are run through by the sword, who perish by snake bites,
who are crushed by a collapsing building, or who are twisted up little by
little as their sinews slowly contract. One can say that some people have a
rr++ra :
better death and that others have a worse end. But nevertheless death is
equal for all. The way they get there varies, but their destination is one.
No death is greater or lesser; in all cases it has the same boundary: it has
put an end to ones life.
. I am telling you the same thing about goods. One good is situated
amidst unadulterated pleasures, another amidst harsh and bitter circum-
stances; the former guides fortunes favour, the latter masters her violence.
The two are equally good, although the former goes along a smooth and
gentle path and the latter along a difcult one. All have the same end: they
are good, they are praiseworthy, they accompany virtue and reason; virtue
makes equal everything it acknowledges as its own.
j. You have no good reason to be astonished that this is one of our
doctrines. In Epicurus there are two goods which make up that highest
and blessed state: that the body be free of pain and the mind free of upset.
These goods do not get bigger once they are complete: for how could
what is complete grow? The body is free of pain; what can be added to
this painlessness? The mind is consistent with itself and calm; what can
be added to this tranquillity?
. Just as a clear sky, once it is cleansed and has an unalloyed splendour,
does not admit of any further brightness, so too a persons condition is
perfect if he cares for his body and mind and blends his good from both;
and he achieves his greatest wish if his mind is free of storms and his
body free of pain. If any additional enticements come along, they do not
increase the highest good but they spice it up, so to speak, and provide
seasoning. For the unqualied good of human nature is satised by peace
in body and mind.
y. I will point out to you even now that in Epicurus there is a division
of goods which is quite similar to the one in our school. In Epicurus there
are some things which he would prefer to have come to him (such as ease
in the body, free from all discomfort, and a relaxation of the mind as it
rejoices in the contemplation of its own goods) and others which, though
he would rather they did not happen, he nevertheless praises and approves
oflike that endurance of poor health and most grievous pains which I
was mentioning just now. That is how Epicurus spent that nal and most
blessed day of his life! For he said that he was enduring the torments of
his bladder and an inamed stomach which did not admit of any further
increase in pain but that it was a happy day despite it all. However, one
cannot be having a happy day unless one is in possession of the highest
good.
: +a+sr++ros
8. Therefore there are even in Epicurus theory the kind of goods
which one would rather not experience but which are worth embracing
and praising and treating as equal to the highest goods, since that is how
things worked out. It cannot be denied that the good which put the nal
touch on a happy life and for which Epicurus expressed his gratitude in
his last breath is equal to the highest good.
. Allow me, my excellent Lucilius, to say something even bolder. If
any goods could be greater than others, then I would have preferred those
which seem harsher to those which are soft and effeminate, I would have
said that they were greater. It is a greater thing to demolish hardships than
it is to regulate good fortune.
jo. I knowthat it is by the same rationality that one takes prosperity well
and misfortune bravely. There can be equal courage in him who sleeps
condently outside the walls when there are no enemy raids and in him
who lands on his knees after his hamstrings have been severed and does
not abandon his weapons: bravo for your courage is something we say to
those covered in blood even as they return from battle. And so I would
rather praise those goods which are tested and courageous and which have
been brawling against fortune.
j+. Should I hesitate over whether to give greater praise to that mangled
and burned hand of Mucius than to the healthy hand of even the bravest
man? He stood there, holding in contempt the enemy and the ames and
he watched his hand melting away in the enemys stove, until Porsenna
envied the glory of the man whose punishment he had urged and ordered
that Mucius hand be removed from the re against his will.
j:. Howcould I not count this good among the primary ones and regard
it as being greater than the goods which are safe and untried by fortune
by as big a margin as it is rarer to conquer the enemy by a ruined hand
than it is to do so by an armed one. What, then, you say, are you going
to wish for this good for yourself ? Why not? Such a deed cannot be done
by anyone who cannot also wish for it.
j. Or should I rather wish that I might hold out my hands so that
my male sex toys can massage them? That some woman (or somebody
turned into woman from a man) might stroke my ngers? Why shouldnt
I think that Mucius is luckier because he handled the re as though he
had entrusted that very hand to a masseur? He restored to integrity all
his previous errors: unarmed and maimed he ended the war and with that
mangled hand he conquered two kings.
Farewell.
LETTER y+
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. You often ask my advice about particular matters, forgetting that
we are separated by a wide ocean. Since the most important part of
advice depends on the circumstances, it must follow that on certain
matters my opinion reaches you when the opposite advice has already
become preferable. For advice is adjusted to situations; our situations are
in movement, or rather in ux. Therefore advice should be generated
immediately beforehand. And even this is too late. Let it be generated, as
they say, right on the spot. However, I will show you how advice can be
found.
:. Whenever you want to know what is to be avoided or what is to
be sought, look to the highest good, the purpose of your entire life. For
whatever we do ought to agree with that. Only someone who has before
him a general purpose for his whole life will put individual things in
order. No matter how ready ones paints might be, no one will produce a
likeness unless he has a clear notion of what he wants to paint. So we make
mistakes because we deliberate about the parts of life; no one deliberates
about the whole.
. He who wants to shoot an arrow ought to know what he is aiming
at and then direct and guide the weapon with his hand. Our counsels go
astray because they do not have a target to be aimed at. If you dont know
what harbour you sail for, no wind is favourable.
Because we live by chance, chance necessarily has great power over our
lives.
. However, it turns out that certain people do not know that they in
fact know certain things. Just as we often look for the very people we are
standing beside, in the same way we generally do not know that the goal
and highest good is right in front of us. You dont need many words or a
roundabout path to infer what the highest good is. If I may say, it should
be pointed out with ones nger and not scattered all around. For what is
the point of breaking it up into small bits when you can say, the highest
good is that which is honourable, and (you will be even more struck by
: +a+sr++ros
this claim) the only good is what is honourable; all the others are false and
counterfeit goods.
j. If you convince yourself of this and fall passionately in love with
virtue (just loving it is not enough), then whatever befalls because of virtue
will bring good fortune and happiness to you, no matter what others may
think of it. Torture (if only you lie there more serene than the torturer
himself) and sickness (provided that you dont curse your luck and give
in to the illness) and in a word everything which other people think of as
badall of these things will be tamed and turn out for the best, if you
rise above them. Let this much be clear: that there is nothing good except
the honourable. Everything which is inconvenient in its own right will
be labelled good provided that virtue brings it honour.
. Many people think that we are promising more than human nature
can handleand not without reason. For they are considering the body.
Let them turn their attention to the mind and they will soon be measuring
humans by the standard of god. Raise yourself up, my excellent Lucilius,
andleave behindthose grammar-school philosophers who bring something
which is truly splendid down to the level of syllables and, by teaching
petty matters, depress and wear out the mind. You will come to resemble
those who discovered those things, not those who teach them and make
philosophy difcult rather than great.
y. Socrates, who brought all of philosophy back to ethics and said that
the highest wisdom is to distinguish good from bad, said If I have any
inuence with you at all, follow them in order to be happy, and let some
think you a fool. Let whoever wishes insult you and harmyou, but you still
wont suffer at all provided that you have virtue. If, he says, you want to
be happy, if you want to be a genuinely good man, let someone hold you
in contempt. No one will achieve this if he hasnt himself held all things
in contempt rst and come to treat all goods as equal. For there is no good
without the honourable and the honourable is equal in all instances.
8. What, then? Is there no difference between Cato winning the election
for praetor and his losing it? Is there no difference between Cato being
defeated at the Battle of Pharsalus and his winning? Is the good he gets
frombeing unconquerable when his faction is conquered equal to the good
he gets fromreturning to his homeland as victor and making arrangements
for a peace settlement? Why shouldnt they be equal? For it is by the
same virtue that bad fortune is overcome and good fortune is regulated.
But virtue cannot be greater or lesserit is of uniform standing.
. But Gnaeus Pompeius will lose his army, and that most splendid
glory of the state, the aristocracy, and the front line of the Pompeian
rr++ra y+ :y
faction, the Senate bearing arms, will all be crushed in one battle and the
remains of so great a power will scatter all over the worldpart of it will
collapse in Egypt, part in Africa, part in Spain. The wretched state cannot
even manage to collapse only once.
+o. Suppose all of this happens: familiarity with the terrain in his own
kingdom doesnt help Juba, and neither does the determined courage of
his people ghting for their king; the loyalty of the citizens of Utica fails,
beaten down by misfortunes; and the fortune of his family heritage deserts
Scipio in Africait was determined long ago that Cato should suffer no
harm.
++. But still, he was beaten. Count this too among the defeats suffered
by Catohe will bear the obstacles to his victory with the same spirit that
he bears the obstacles to his praetorship. On the same day that he lost the
election, he played; on the night when he was about to die, he read. He
put the same value on losing the praetorship and on losing his life. He was
convinced that everything which might happen should be endured.
+:. Why wouldnt he endure that political change with a brave and
steady mind? For what is there which is immune to the risk of change?
Not the earth, nor the sky nor the whole structure of this cosmos, even
though it is guided by the agency of god. It will not always preserve its
present order; some day it will be driven out of this path.
+. All things develop at xed times. They have to be born, to grow, and
to pass away. Whatever you see pass by over our heads and all things we
rely on and stand on, as though they were completely stable, these things
will waste away and come to an end. Everything gets old in its own way.
Nature sends them to the same destination at different rates; whatever is
will someday not be, but it wont perishit will be dissolved.
+. For us, being dissolved is to perish, for we limit our gaze to what is
right next to us and our mind, which is dull and has devoted itself to the
body, does not look ahead to things further off. Otherwise, if it expected
that (<like> everything else) life and death take turns, that what is put
together dissolves and that what is dissolved is put together, and that in
this work the eternal craft of a god who governs all things is at work, then
it would endure with greater courage the death of itself and those dear
to it.
+j. And so like Marcus Cato, when it has thought its way through
life, it will say, the whole human race, present and future, is doomed to
death. Of all the cities which ourish anywhere and are great adornments
for foreign empires it shall be asked where were they? and they will
be eliminated by various kinds of destruction. Some will be destroyed by
:8 +a+sr++ros
wars, others eaten up by laziness, by peace which has degenerated into
sloth, and by luxury, a thing which is pernicious even to great wealth and
power. A sudden ooding of the sea will carry off all these fertile elds, or
they will be carried off by the sudden subsidence as the ground falls into a
subterranean cavern. So why should I get outraged or grieve if I meet the
fate shared by all just a little ahead of the rest?
+. Let a great mind obey god and let it endure without hesitation
whatever the law of the universe commands. Either it is released into a
better life, to live more clearly and calmly among the divine, or at least it
will be free of any future inconvenience if it is mixed again with nature
and returns to the cosmos. Therefore the honourable life of Marcus Cato
is no greater good than his honourable death, since virtue cannot be
increased. Socrates said that truth and virtue are the same thing. Just as
the former does not become greater so too virtue does not either. It has its
complement; it is full.
+y. Therefore there is no reason for you to be amazed at the claim that
all goods are equal, both those which are to be chosen on purpose and
those which are only to be chosen if circumstances dictate. For if you
admit that goods are unequal, so that you count courageous endurance of
torture among things which are lesser goods, then you will also count it
among things which are bad and you will say that Socrates was unhappy
in prison, that Cato was unhappy when he tore open his wounds more
courageously than he had inicted them in the rst place, that Regulus
was most unfortunate of all when he paid the penalty for keeping his word
even to the enemy. But no one has had the nerve to say this, not even the
most degenerate of men; they say that he isnt happy, but still they say
that he isnt miserable either.
+8. The Old Academics concede that he is happy even amidst these
tortures, but not completely or absolutely happybut this cannot be
accepted. Unless he is happy he is not in the highest good. But the highest
good has no level above it, provided that it contains virtue, provided
that adverse circumstances do not diminish it, provided that it remains
safe even as the body is shattered; it still remains. I understand by
virtue something that is bold and lofty, which is stimulated by whatever
threatens it.
+. Certainly it is wisdom which pours into us and passes on to us this
spirit, which young men of noble temperament, inspired by the beauty
of an honourable deed, often adopt, with the result that they hold all
contingency in contempt. Wisdom will convince us that the only good is
what is honourable and that this cannot be lessened or intensied any more
rr++ra y+ :
than you can bend the ruler which is normally used to test straightness.
Whatever you change in it is a detriment to its straightness.
:o. We will make the same claim about virtue. This too is straight; it
does not admit of bending. It is rigid. What could be made more taut? It is
virtue which passes judgement on everything; nothing passes judgement
on it. If it cannot itself be any straighter, then neither can any of the things
which are straight because of it be straighter than the others. They must
match virtue and so they are equal.
:+. What, then? you say, are reclining at a dinner party and being
tortured equal? Does this seem remarkable to you? You might be more
amazed at the following: reclining at a dinner party is bad and reclining
on the rack is goodif the former is done shamefully and the latter
honourably. It is not the raw material which makes them good or bad, but
the virtue; wherever it appears, everything is of the same dimensions and
of the same value.
::. The person who assesses everyones mind on the basis of his own is
now shaking his sts in my face, because I claim that the goods of one who
sits honourably in judgement are equal to those of <someone who behaves
honourably as a defendant>, because I claim that the goods of him who
holds a triumph are equal to those of the person who is carried before
his chariot with unconquered mind. They think that anything that they
cannot themselves do cannot be done. They pass judgement on virtue by
the standards of their own weakness.
:. Why are you surprised if it is useful, sometimes even pleasant, to be
burned, wounded, slaughtered, or imprisoned? Frugality is a punishment
for someone addicted to luxury, for the sluggard work is like a penalty,
the fop takes pity on the hard-working man, and it is sheer torture for
the slothful person to study. In the same way we think that the things at
which we are all weak are harsh and intolerable, and we forget that for
many people it is torment to do without wine or to be awoken at dawn.
Those things are not difcult by nature, but we are soft and weak.
:. One must pass judgement on great things with a great mind;
otherwise what is actually our own defect will seem to be the defect of
those things. It is thus that some things which are absolutely straight,
when they are put into water, appear to observers as being curved and
bent. It doesnt just matter what you look at, but how. Our mind has weak
vision when it comes to looking at the truth.
:j. Give me a young man unspoiled and with a lively wit; he will say
that he thinks that the person who bears all the burdens of adversity with
neck unbowed and who rises above fortune is the more fortunate. It is not
o +a+sr++ros
surprising if he is not troubled amidst tranquillity; be amazed at the fact
that one person is in excellent spirits where everyone else is downcast,
that he stands where everyone else is prostrate.
:. What is it that is bad in torture, what is bad in the other things
which we call adversities? Just this, I think, that the mind capitulates,
bends under the load and caves in. None of this can happen to the wise
man: he stands up straight under any weight. No situation diminishes
him; none of the things which are bearable upsets him. For he does not
complain that whatever can befall a person has befallen him. He knows
his strength; he knows that he is built for carrying burdens.
:y. I do not deny that the wise person is a human being nor do I
exempt him from pain like some rock which has no feeling. I remem-
ber that he is made up of two parts, one irrational this is bitten,
burned, painedand the other rational this has unshaken convictions,
is fearless and unconquered. The highest good of a human being is
located in the latter. Before it is lled out, there is an unstable rest-
lessness in the mind; but when it has been completed its stability is
immovable.
:8. And so the beginner and he who makes maximal progress and
cultivates virtue, even if he approaches the complete good but has not
yet put the nishing touches on it, will sometimes backslide and slacken
somewhat his mental concentration; for he has not yet gotten past the
uncertain territory and even nowis on slippery ground. But he who is truly
happy and whose virtue is fully developed loves himself most when he has
made the bravest efforts, not only bears but even embraces things which
others would fear, if they are the price to be paid for some honourable and
appropriate action; he greatly prefers to hear how much better you are
than how much luckier you are.
:. Now I come to the point to which your anticipation summons me.
So that our virtue should not seem to roam beyond the nature of things,
[we admit that] the wise person will tremble and feel pain and grow pale.
For these are all bodily feelings. So where is misfortune, where is the true
badness? Obviously, it will be there if these feelings drag down the mind,
if they bring it to an admission that it is enslaved, if they inict on it regret
for being what it is.
o. The wise person indeed conquers fortune with his virtue, but many
who claim to have wisdom have often been terried by the most trivial
threats. Here the fault is our own, since we demand the same thing
of a wise person and of a progressor. I am still urging on myself the
things which I praise, but I dont yet convince myself about them. Even
rr++ra y+ +
if I had convinced myself, I would not yet have things in readiness or
so thoroughly practiced that they could successfully confront all chance
events.
+. Just as wool accepts some colours on one dipping but cannot
absorb others unless it has been repeatedly steeped and boiled, so too our
temperament immediately shows the results of some studies as soon as
it has been exposed to them, but this one shows none of the results it
promises unless it penetrates deeply and settles for a long time, unless it
doesnt just colour the mind but dyes it.
:. The point can be communicated quickly and in a very few words:
the only good is virtue (certainly there is no good without virtue), and
virtue itself is located in our better part, that is the rational part. So what
will this virtue be? A true and immovable judgement; for from this come
the impulses of the mind, and by this every presentation which stimulates
impulse is made transparent.
. It will be in accordance with this judgement to make the judgement
that all things touched by virtue are both good and equal to each other.
The goods of the body are certainly good for the body, but they are not
good overall. They will have a certain value, but they will not possess
excellence: they will differ from each other by substantial margins, and
some will be smaller, others greater.
. And we must also admit that there are big differences among those
who pursue wisdom. One person has already made so much progress that
he can lift his eyes against fortune, but not with resolute consistency (for
his eyes are downcast when stunned by excessive brightness); another has
progressed so much that he can meet her gazeunless he has already
reached perfection and is full of self-condence.
j. Things which are incomplete must totter and alternate between
making progress and sinking or collapsing. But they will sink, unless they
have made a rm resolution to go forward and press on. If they slacken
their zeal and their rm concentration even a bit, they must backslide. No
one nds moral progress where he last left it.
. So let us press on and persevere; more remains than we have
squandered, but a great part of progress consists in the desire to make
progress. I am fully aware of this, that I want it and want it with my whole
mind. I see that you too are enthusiastic for it and hastening towards the
nest destination with a great impetus. Let us hurry. This is how life at
last becomes a benet; otherwise it is just waiting arounda shameful
kind of stalling by people who pass their time amidst shameful practices.
: +a+sr++ros
Let us strive to make all of our time our own. But it will not be our own
unless we ourselves start to belong to ourselves.
y. When will it come about that we hold both good and bad fortune
in contempt, when will it come about that all our passions are suppressed
and brought under our own control and we can utter this claim, I have
conquered? Whom do you wish to conquer? Not the Persians nor the
remote Medes nor any warlike peoples there may be beyond the Dahae,
but greed, ambition, and the fear of death which has itself conquered those
who conquer foreign races.
Farewell.
LETTER y
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. You threaten me with hostility if I leave you in the dark about any
of my daily activities. Look how straightforwardly I share my life with
you. I will entrust you with this information too. I am studying with a
philosopher, and indeed I have been attending his school for ve days
now and hearing his lectures starting in the early afternoon. You say, Its
a great time of life for that! Well of course its a great time of life. What
could be more foolish than not to learn just because you havent been
learning for a long time?
:. What? ShouldI do the same as the gildedyouthdo? Imingoodshape
if this is the only disgrace that mars my old age. This school accepts people
of all ages. Are we to grow old only to follow the young? Ill go to the the-
atre in my old age and Ill ride to the circus. I wont miss a single gladiatorial
ght. Am I supposed to blush about attending on a philosopher?
. You have to learn as long as youre ignorant; if we believe the maxim,
thats as long as you live. This maxim coheres best with the following: you
have to learn how to live as long as you live. Anyway, I also teach them
something at the school. You ask what I teach? That even an old man has
to learn.
. But every time I go to the school I feel ashamed of the human race.
As you know, while going to the house of Metronax one has to pass
right by the Neapolitan theatre. It certainly is packed and there is hotly
contested debate about who is a good piper. Even a Greek trumpeter and
an announcer draw a crowd. By contrast, in the place where the good man
is the topic of discussion, where the good man is what they learn about,
there is a tiny audience and most people think that the students have no
proper business to conductthey are called useless and lazy. Let their
mockery hit me too. I have to listen to the abuse of the ignorant with
equanimity, and since I am going about honourable business I have to
hold their contempt in contempt.
j. Carry on, Lucilius, and hurry up, so you dont get into my situation
and wind up learning as an old man. Actually, hurry all the more since
+a+sr++ros
youve already started in on a topic which you could scarcely master as
an old man. How much progress will I achieve? Only as much as you
attempt.
. What are you waiting for? Wisdomdoesnt come to anyone by chance.
Money will come on its own; high ofce will be handed to you; maybe
favour and rank will be heaped on youbut virtue will not drop into
your lap. Nor is it learned by just a bit of work or by a small effort; but
the work is worth it for someone aiming to possess every good thing all at
once. For the honourable alone is goodyou wont nd anything true or
reliable in the things that public opinion approves.
y. I will explain to you why only the honourable is good (since you think
I didnt accomplish very much with my earlier letter and believe this point
was approved rather than proven) and I will condense what has been said
on the topic.
8. Everything depends on its own good. Productivity and the avour of
the wine commend a vine, speed commends a stag; you ask how strong a
back draught animals have, for their sole function is to haul a load; in a
dog the most important thing is keen smell if it is supposed to track beasts,
running if it is supposed to catch them, boldness if it is to attack and bite
them. In each thing, that for which it is born and by which it is judged
ought to be its best.
. What is best in a human being? Reason. By this humans surpass the
animals and follow the gods. Therefore perfected reason is our proper
good; humans share all other traits to some degree with animals and
plants. A human being is strongso are lions. He is handsomeso are
peacocks. He is swiftso are horses. I dont say that he is outdone in
all these respects; I am not asking what his greatest feature is, but which
one is his very own. He has a bodyso do trees. He has impulse and
voluntary motionso do beasts and worms. He has a voicebut how
much more ringing is the voice of dogs, how much sharper that of eagles,
how much deeper that of bulls, how much sweeter and more exible that
of nightingales.
+o. What is proper to human beings? Reason. This, when it is straight
and complete, has lled out the happiness of a human being. Therefore if
each thing, when it has perfected its very own good, is praiseworthy and
attains the goal of its own nature, and if reason is a human beings very
own good, then if he has perfected this he is praiseworthy and has reached
the goal of his own nature. This perfected reason is called virtue and this
same thing is what is honourable.
rr++ra y j
++. Thus the unique good in a human being is that which uniquely
belongs to humans. For at this point we are asking not what is good but
what is the good of a human being. If there is no other [unique trait] in
human beings except reason, this will be their sole good, but it should be
treated as offsetting everything else. If someone is bad, he will, I guess,
meet with disapproval; if good then with approval, I guess. Therefore
in human beings this is the primary and only thing by which he is both
approved and disapproved of.
+:. You do not doubt whether this is good; you doubt whether it is
the only good. If someone has everything elsehealth, wealth, many
ancestral busts, a crowded foyerbut is admittedly bad, then you will
disapprove of him. Similarly, if someone has none of the things I have
mentioned, if he is lacking in money, in clients, in the nobility which
derives from a long string of ancestorsbut is admittedly good, then you
will approve of him. Therefore, the sole good of a human being is that
which, by its possession, makes himpraiseworthy even if he is bereft of the
rest and which by its absence causes condemnation and rejection despite
an abundance of everything else.
+. The situation for people is the same as it is for things. A ship is
called good not if it has been painted with expensive colours or if its ram
is covered with silver or gold or if its gurehead is inlaid with ivory or if
it is heavily laden with treasure and regal wealth; but rather if it is stable,
solid, tightly built with seams that keep water out, sturdy enough to resist
the seas attack, easy to steer, swift, and not swayed by the wind.
+. You will say that a sword is good not if it has a gilded belt or its
scabbard is studded with jewels; but rather if it has a ne cutting edge and
a point which can pierce any armour. We dont ask how beautiful a ruler
is, but how straight. Each thing is praised with reference to that against
which it is judged and that which is proper to it.
+j. Therefore in a person too it is quite irrelevant how much land
he tills, how much money he has invested, how many clients greet him,
how expensive a couch he reclines on, how translucent a cup he drinks
from; what matters is how good he is. But he is good if his reason is fully
deployed, straight, and adapted to the inclinations of his nature.
+. This is termed virtue, that is, the honourable and the sole good of a
human being. For since only reason completes a human being, only reason
makes him perfectly happy. But this is the only good thing and the only
thing by which he is made happy. We also say that those things which
originate in virtue or are caused by it are good, i.e., all of its products. But
it alone is good precisely because there is no good without it.
+a+sr++ros
+y. If every good is in the mind, then whatever strengthens, exalts, or
expands it is good. But virtue makes the mind stronger, loftier, and fuller.
For other things which stimulate our desires also degrade the mind and
make it weak; when they seem to raise it up, they are inaming it and
tricking it with their profound emptiness. Therefore the only good thing
is that which makes the mind better.
+8. All our actions throughout our life are regulated by a consideration
of what is honourable and shameful. Our reasoning about doing and not
doing is guided by reference to them. Ill tell you what this is. A good
man will do what he believes would be honourable for him to do, even if
it is hard work; he will do it even if he suffers a loss; he will do it even
if it is dangerous. Conversely, he will not do what is shameful, even if it
gets him money, pleasure, or power. Nothing will keep him from what is
honourable; nothing will entice him to shameful actions.
+. Therefore, if he is going to pursue the honourable unconditionally
and avoid the shameful unconditionally; and if he is going to look to these
two things in every action of his life; and if there is no other good except
the honourable nor anything bad except what is shameful; if only virtue
is uncorrupted and it alone adheres to its course, then virtue is the only
good and it cannot come to pass that it is not a good thing. It is immune
to the risk of change. Folly creeps towards wisdom. Wisdom does not fall
back into folly.
:o. I said, if you happen to recall, that many people impetuously have
scorned the things which are generally desired or feared. A person has
been found who would reject wealth; a person has been found who would
put his hand in the ames, whose laughter the torturer could not stop,
who would shed no tear at his childrens funeral, who would meet his own
death untrembling. It was love, anger, and desire that insisted on courting
dangers. Short-lived stubbornness driven on by some stimulus can do it.
How much more can virtue do! Its strength is not impulsive or sudden,
but consistent; its strength is long-lasting.
:+. It follows that the things which are often despised by the reckless
and always by the wise are neither good nor bad. Therefore virtue itself
is the only good; it walks proudly amidst good and bad fortune with deep
contempt for both.
::. If you do adopt the view that anything is good except what is
honourable, then every virtue will be vulnerable; for no virtue can be
secure if it looks to anything beyond itself. If this is the case, then this view
conicts with reason (the source of the virtues) and truth (which is nothing
without reason). But any opinion which conicts with truth is false.
rr++ra y y
:. You might grant that a good man must have the greatest piety
towards the gods. Therefore he will endure with equanimity whatever
happens to him; for he will know that it happened under the divine law
according to which all things progress. If this is so, his only good will be
what is honourablefor in this lie his obedience to the gods, not aring
up in anger at unexpected events and bewailing his lot in life, but accepting
fate with patience and obeying its commands.
:. If anything except the honourable is good, then greed for life will
dog us, and so will a greed for the things which equip our lifeand that
is unsustainable, limitless, unstable. Therefore the honourable, which has
a limit, is the only good.
:j. We said that human life would turn out to be happier than that of
the gods if things which are of no use to the gods are good, such as money
and public ofce. Now add to that argument the consideration that if souls
do persist when released from the body a condition awaits them which is
happier than what they have while they sojourn in the body. Yet if the
things we use by means of our bodies are good, then liberated souls will be
worse off. But it violates our condent belief if souls which are enclosed
and besieged are happier than those which are free and entrusted to the
universe.
:. I had also said that if those things are good which fall to the lot of
men and brute animals alike, the brute animals will live a happy life. And
that is absolutely impossible. All things are to be endured for the sake of
what is honourable; but one would not have to do so if anything except
the honourable were good.
Although I had gone over these points quite fully in my earlier letter, I
have here condensed them and given them a quick run-through.
:y. But this sort of view will never seem true to you unless you arouse
your mind and ask of yourself: if circumstances should demand that you
die for your country and purchase the well-being of all the citizens at the
cost of your own, would you be ready to extend your neck not just with
endurance but even cheerfully? If you are ready to do this, there is no
other good; for you are giving up everything in order to have it. Consider
how much being honourable commits you to: you will die for the state
even if it means being ready to do so the minute you know it should be
done.
:8. Sometimes one can take great pleasure from a splendid action, even
if it is only for a very short time. Although no enjoyment derived from
the action once done can reach someone who is dead and nished with
human experience, nevertheless mere reection upon the future action
8 +a+sr++ros
gives satisfaction, and when a man who is brave and just sets before
himself as the reward for his death the freedom of his homeland and the
well-being of everyone on whose behalf he sacrices his life, he has the
highest pleasure and gets enjoyment from his own danger.
:. But even someone who is deprived of the joy which comes from
reection upon his last and greatest deed will plunge into death with no
hesitation, content to act correctly and piously. Confront him even now
with the many considerations which might dissuade him, tell him Your
deed will be quickly forgotten and the citizens will be ungrateful to you
when they think of you. He will answer you All of that is beyond my
job, and I only consider that; I know that this is honourable, and so I go
wherever it leads and summons me.
o. So this alone is good and it is not only the perfected mind which is
aware of it but also a mind which is noble and talented. Everything else is
ckle andchangeable, andso one worries evenwhile possessing them. Even
if fortune smiles and they are all heaped together, they weigh heavily on
their masters and always oppress them; sometimes they even crush them.
+. None of those whom you see clad in purple is happy any more than
those who are given a sceptre and robe on stage in order to play their
roles in a tragedy. As soon as they make their entrance, carried along by
the throng and wearing the high boots of tragedy, they immediately exit:
they remove their boots and return to their normal size. None of those
whom wealth and ofce elevate is actually tall. So why does he seem tall?
You measure him together with his pedestal. A dwarf isnt tall though
he stands on a mountaintop; a giant will retain his height even if he is
standing in a well.
:. We suffer from this mistake, this is how we are duped, because we
dont evaluate anyone by what he is but we add to him the things by which
he has been decorated. But when you want to undertake a true valuation
of a person and want to know what he is like, do the inspection when he is
naked. Let him set aside his inheritance, set aside his public ofces and the
other trickeries of fortune, let him shed his very body. Inspect his mind,
what it is like, how great it iswhether it is great by its own resources or
someone elses.
. If he looks at the ashing swords with unswerving eyes and if he
knows that it makes no difference whether his lifes breath exits through
the mouth or the throat, call him happy. If, when he is threatened with
physical tormentsboth those inicted by chance and those inicted by
the injustice of the powerful if he hears about prison, exile, and the
empty fears of human minds calmly and says,
rr++ra y
Maiden,
no prospect of hardship comes to me new or unexpected
I anticipated it all and have rehearsed it in the privacy of my mind.
You make these threats todayI have always threatened myself and prepared my
human self for human possibilities.'
. Gentle comes the blow of misfortune that has been anticipated. But
to fools who trust fortune every prospect seems new and unexpected.
For the inexperienced a great part of the misfortune lies in the novelty. To
understand this, reect that people can endure what they thought were
hardships more bravely when they have gotten used to them.
j. And so a wise person gets used to future misfortunes and what other
people make bearable by long suffering he makes bearable by prolonged
thinking. Sometimes we hear the voices of inexperienced people saying, I
knew this was in store for me. The wise person knows that everything is
in store for him. Whatever happened, he says I knew it.
Farewell.
' Vergil, Aeneid .+oj.
LETTER 8j
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. I had been sparing you and passing over all the knotty problems
which still remained, satised with giving you a taste, as it were, of what
our school says to prove that virtue alone is effective enough to complete
the happy life. You are urging me to include all of the arguments which
have been either devised by our school or thought up in order to ridicule
us. If I can bring myself to do that, this wont be a letter but a whole book.
I swear, over and over again, that I take no pleasure in proofs of this type;
I am ashamed to go into a battle engaged on behalf of gods and humans
armed with nothing but an awl.
:. (a) He who is prudent is also self-controlled; (b) he who is self-
controlled is also steadfast; (c) he who is steadfast is undisturbed; (d) he
who is undisturbed is free of sadness; (e) he who is free of sadness is happy.
(f) Therefore the prudent person is happy and prudence is sufcient for a
happy life.
. CertainPeripatetics respondtothis inference as follows: theyinterpret
undisturbed and steadfast and free of sadness as though we called
undisturbed someone who is disturbed seldom and moderately, not
someone who is never disturbed. Similarly they say that someone is
said to be free of sadness if he is not a prey to sadness and doesnt
suffer from this vice frequently or to excess; for it is a denial of human
nature that someones mind be immune to sadness; the wise person is not
overwhelmed by grief but is touched by it. They also add other points of
this sort, in accordance with their own school.
. With these points they do not eliminate the passions but moderate
them. But how little we grant to the wise person if he is stronger than
the very weak, is more happy than the very sad, is more temperate than
those who are totally uncontrolled and rises above the most lowly. What
if Ladas were to admire his own swiftness by comparing himself to those
who are lame and weak?
She might zoom over the tips of the leaves of a graineld without touching them
And would not harm the tender ears in running,
rr++ra 8j +
Or she might journey across the sea hovering above the swelling waves,
And never taint her swift feet with wetness.'
This is an example of swiftness measured in its own right, rather than
swiftness praised by comparison with those who are very slow. What if
you were to call someone with a mild fever healthy? Moderate sickness
is not good health.
j. The objection is, the wise person is said to be undisturbed in the
same way that some pomegranates are said to be seedlessnot if its seeds
are not hard at all, but if they are less hard. But that is false. For my
meaning is not that a good man has a reduction in bad qualities but an
absence of them. There ought to be none, not small ones. For if there are
any at all, they will grow and at some time get in his way. Just as a large
and complete cataract blinds the eyes, so a limited one impairs them.
. If you allow some passions to the wise person, his reason will be
no match for them and will be swept away as though by a kind of
torrentespecially since you are giving him not just one passion to
struggle against, but all of them. A group of passions, no matter how
modest in power, has more impact than the violence of one big one.
y. He has a desire for money, but limited desire. He has ambition,
but not agitated ambition. He is irascible, but can be pacied; he is not
steadfast, but is not too unstable and ckle. He suffers from lust, but not
insane lust. The situation is better for the person who has one vice in its
entirety than it is for the person who has them all, though they are less
severe.
8. Next, it makes no difference how big the passion is; no matter what
its size, it doesnt know how to obey and cannot take advice. Just as no
animal obeys reason, neither the wild beast nor the domesticated and tame
animal (for their nature is deaf to its persuasion), so too the passions do
not obey and do not listen, no matter how small they are. Tigers and lions
never cast off their ferocity, though sometimes they moderate it, and when
you are least expecting it their tempered savagery ares up. One can never
be condent that vices have been gentled.
. Next, if reason is effective then the passions dont even get started; if
the passions get going despite reason then they will persist despite it. For
it is easier to check their beginnings than to control their attack. Therefore
that so-called moderation is bogus and useless, and should be treated in
the same way as if someone said that one must be moderately insane or
moderately sick.
' Vergil, Aeneid y.8o8++.
: +a+sr++ros
+o. Only virtue possesses mental balance; bad characteristics dont
admit of it, and you could eliminate them more easily than you could
control them. Surely there can be no doubt that the long-standing
and seasoned vices of human intelligence, the ones we call diseases,
are uncontrolledfor example, greed, cruelty, fury. It follows that the
passions too are uncontrolled, since one slides from the passions to the
diseases.
++. Next, if you grant any authority to sadness, fear, desire, and the
other wicked motions, then they will not be in our power. Why? Because
the things which stimulate themare outside us; so they growin accordance
with the size of the causes which stimulate them. The fear will be greater
if the object of our terror is greater or is seen from closer up; desire will be
sharper to the extent that it is summoned up by a hope for greater gain.
+:. If it is not in our power whether or not we have passions, then
certainly their magnitude isnt either. If you have let them get started,
they grow along with their causes and their magnitude will be what it will
be. Add to this the fact that these things, though they start out tiny, grow
bigger. Destructive things do not observe a limit. No matter how minor
the starting point for diseases, they sneak up on you and sometimes a very
small increase overwhelms ailing bodies.
+. How crazy it is to believe that things whose starting points are
beyond our authority can have end points that are within our authority!
How can I be strong enough to put an end to something which I wasnt
strong enough to prevent from starting, considering that it is easier to bar
them than it is to repress them once they have gained entry?
+. Certain people have made a distinction which leads them to say,
The temperate and prudent person is tranquil with regard to the state and
condition of his intellect, but not with regard to what actually happens.
For as far as the condition of his intellect is concerned he is not disturbed
nor is he saddened or afraid, but many external causes impinge from the
outside which inict disturbance on him.
+j. What they want to say adds up to this: he is not irascible but
nevertheless he gets angry sometimes; and he is not fearful, but gets afraid
sometimes, i.e., he is free of the vice of fear but is not free of the passion.
But if it is allowed in, fear will by frequent occurrence turn into the vice
and anger, once admitted into the mind, will undermine that disposition
of a mind which is free of anger.
+. Moreover, if he does not hold in contempt the causes which come
from the outside and if he fears something, when he has to go bravely
against weapons and re on behalf of his fatherland, the laws, and freedom,
rr++ra 8j
then he will go forth hesitantly and with a sinking spirit. But this mental
deviation does not afict the wise person.
+y. Moreover, I think that one ought to watch out that we not confuse
two things which ought to be proven separately. For there are independent
lines of inference which show (a) that the only good is what is honourable
and (b) that virtue is sufcient for a happy life. If the only good is what
is honourable, everyone grants that virtue sufces for living happily. But
the converse is not conceded, that if only virtue makes one happy then the
only good is what is honourable.
+8. Xenocrates and Speusippus think that one can be happy even if
all one has is virtue, but not that the only good is what is honourable.
Epicurus also holds that when one has virtue one is happy, but that virtue
itself is not sufcient for a happy life, because it is the pleasure produced
by virtue that makes one happy and not the virtue itself. This is a clumsy
distinction. For Epicurus also says that one never has virtue without
pleasure. So, if it is always conjoined with it and is inseparable, it is also
sufcient on its own. For it brings along with itself pleasure, and it is
never without pleasure even when it is on its own.
+. But the further point they make, that one will be happy even if all
one has is virtue, but that one will not be perfectly happy, is ridiculous. I
cannot gure out how this could be the case. For the happy life has within
itself a good which is perfect and unsurpassable. And if this is the case,
then the life is perfectly happy. If the life of the gods has nothing greater
or better, and the happy life is divine, then there is no higher state to
which it could be raised.
:o. Moreover, if the happy life is in need of nothing, then every happy
life is perfect and the same life is both happy and most happy. Surely
you do not doubt that the happy life is the highest good. Therefore, if
a life has the highest good it is supremely happy. Just as the highest
good does not admit of an addition (for what is above the highest?)
then neither does the happy life, which cannot exist without the highest
good. But if you introduce someone who is more happy, then you can
also introduce someone who is much more happy. You will generate
countless distinctions within the highest good, when on my understanding
the highest good is that which has no level above it.
:+. If one person is less happy than another, it follows that he will
have a stronger desire for the life of the other person than for his own;
but a happy person prefers nothing to his own life. Either of these two
propositions is unbelievable: (a) that there is something left for the happy
person to prefer to be the case than is already the case; or (b) that he
+a+sr++ros
does not want what is better than he is. For certainly the more prudent a
person is the more he will strive towards what is best and desire to achieve
it in any way possible. But how can someone be happy if he canindeed,
shoulddesire something even now?
::. I will tell you the source of this error. They do not know that there
is only one happy life. It is its quality not its magnitude that puts it in the
position of being best. And so it is in the same state whether it is long
or short, expansive or constrained, spread through many locations and
parts or conned to one. He who assesses the happy life with respect to
its number, measurement, or parts strips it of its excellence. But what is
it that is outstanding in a happy life? The fact that it is full.
:. In my opinion, the goal of eating and of drinking is satiety. One
person eats more, another less. What difference does it make? Both are
now sated. One person drinks more, another less. What difference does
it make? Both are not thirsty. One person lives for many years, another
for fewer. It makes no difference if the many years have made the former
person as happy as the few have made the latter. The man whom you call
less happy is not happy. This predicate cannot be reduced.
:. He who is brave is without fear. He who is without fear is
without sadness. He who is without sadness is happy. This is our [i.e.,
Stoic] argument. Against it, they try this response: we are claiming that
something false and controversial is generally agreed on, that he who is
brave is without fear. What then? is the reply, will a brave person not
be afraid if bad things threaten? That is the mark of a crazy lunatic, not of
a brave person. Rather, they say, he will fear very moderately; but he is
not completely free of fear.
:j. Those who argue thus fall back into the same problem all over
again: for them, smaller vices count as virtues. For the person who fears,
but rarely and less severely, does not lack the vice but is bothered by a
less serious vice. But I think that someone who does not fear when bad
things threaten is a madman. What you say is trueif they really are bad
things. But if he knows that they are not bad and takes the view that only
baseness is bad, then he ought to gaze upon dangers with calmness and
to despise things which are fearsome to others. Or, if it is the mark of a
fool and madman not to fear bad things, then the more prudent one is the
more one will fear.
:. The reply is, On your view the brave person will expose himself to
dangers. Not at all. He will not fear them but he will avoid them. Caution
suits him but fear does not. What, then? is the reply, will he not fear
death, chains, re, and the other weapons of fortune? No. For he knows
rr++ra 8j j
that they are not bad but only seem so; he considers all those things mere
bugbears of human life.
:y. Present him with imprisonment, beatings, chains, starvation, and
bodily torture by means of sickness or injury or whatever else you can
inict on him. He will regard them as delusional fears. They are objects of
fear only for the fearful. Or do you think something which we sometimes
embrace of our own free will is bad?
:8. You ask what is bad? Yielding to the things which are called bad and
surrendering to them ones freedomfor the sake of which all of those
afictions should be borne. Freedom dies unless we despise the things
which place the yoke on our necks. They would not have doubts about
the behaviour which bets a brave man if they knew what bravery is. It is
not unthinking rashness nor a love of danger nor a pursuit of frightening
things. It is the knowledge of how to distinguish between what is bad
and what is not. Bravery is very careful about protecting itself and at the
same time is strong in its endurance of those things which give a false
impression of badness.
:. What then? If a sword is held to the neck of a brave man, if his
body is pierced again and again in one part after another, if he sees his
bowels lying on his own lap, if he is attacked again and again after a rest, so
that he might feel the torment more vividly, and if wounds newly scabbed
over are made to bleed afresh, is he not afraid? Will you say that he is not
feeling pain? Yes, he feels pain (for no virtue strips a human being of his
ability to feel), but he does not fear; he gazes upon his own pains from on
high, unbeaten. You ask what kind of mind he has? Like the mind of those
who comfort an ailing friend.
o. What is bad does harm. What does harm makes one worse. Pain
and poverty do not make one worse. Therefore they are not bad things.
The reply is, Your claim is false. For it is not the case that if something
does harm it makes one worse. A storm or a squall do harm to the
ship-captain, but do not for all that make him worse.
+. Certain Stoics reply to this as follows: a storm or a squall do make
the ship-captain worse because he cannot carry out what he intended to
do and hold his course. They make him worse in his work but not in his
art. To them the Peripatetic replies, Therefore poverty will also make the
wise person worse, as will pain and other things of the sort. For they do
not take away his virtue, but they do hinder his work.
:. This would be well said, if not for the fact that the situation of a
ship-captain and that of a wise person are different. The purpose of the
latter in living his life is not to carry out what he undertakes no matter
+a+sr++ros
what, but to do everything properly. The purpose of the ship-captain is
to bring his ship to port no matter what. The arts serve us and ought to
carry through on their promises; wisdom is a sovereign director; the arts
help with life, wisdom gives the orders.
. I think that one should reply differently to the objection. The art of
the ship-captain is not made worse by any storm nor is the performance
of the art. The ship-captain did not promise you success, but a useful bit
of work and knowledge of how to steer a ship. And this becomes more
apparent as some violent chance event gets in his way. The person who
can say, Neptune, you will never [sink] this ship except when it is well
sailed is doing all his art demands. The storm does not impede the work
of the ship-captain but his success.
. What then? is the reply, does the situation which prevents the
ship-captain fromreaching port, which makes his efforts vain, which either
carries himback out to sea or detains himand unmasts his shipdoes this
not harm him? Not qua ship-captain, but it does harm him qua person
sailing. Otherwise <he isnt a ship-captain at all>. So far from impeding
the art of the ship-captain, it actually demonstrates it. As the saying goes,
anyone can be a ship-captain when the sea is calm. Those things impede
the ship, not its steersman qua steersman.
j. The ship-captain has two roles, the one shared with all those who
boarded the same ship. He too is a passenger. The other role is unique to
him. He is a ship-captain. The storm harms him qua passenger not qua
ship-captain.
. Next: the art of a ship-captain is someone elses good. It relates to
those whom he conveys, just as the good of a doctor relates to those whom
he treats. The good <of the wise person> is shared. It both <belongs>
to those with whom he lives and is proper to himself. And so perhaps
there is harm done to the ship-captain, whose service pledged to others is
hindered by the storm.
y. But the wise person is not harmed by poverty, not harmed by
pain, not harmed by the other storms of life. For not all of his works are
hindered but only those which relate to others. He is himself always in
action and he has the greatest impact when fortune is ranged against him.
For he is then doing the work of wisdom itself which we said is both his
own good and that of others.
8. Moreover, he is not hindered from benetting others when certain
inevitabilities oppress him. He is hindered from teaching how the state
should be managed because of his poverty, but he does teach how poverty
should be managed. His work extends throughout his entire life. And so
rr++ra 8j y
no fortune and no circumstance bar the wise person from acting. For the
obstacle by which he is hindered from doing other things is something
which he is actively engaged with. He is well suited for both kinds of
situation. He manages good situations and vanquishes bad ones.
. He has trained himself, I claim, to display virtue just as much
in favourable situations as in adverse ones and to consider not the raw
material of virtue but virtue itself. And so poverty does not hinder him,
nor does pain nor all the other things which deter the inexperienced and
drive them headlong.
o. Do you think that he is oppressed by bad circumstances? He makes
use of them. Phidias didnt just know how to make statues out of ivory; he
also made them from bronze. If you had offered him marble, if you had
offered him some material still cheaper than that, he would have made
the best statue that could have been made from it. It is thus that the wise
person will, if he has the chance, display his virtue in his wealth; but if he
does not have the chance he will display it in poverty. If he can he will
display it in his homeland; if not, in exile. If he can he will display it as
commander of the army; if not as a foot-soldier. If he can he will display
it while sound of body; if not while crippled. Whatever lot he receives he
will make something of it worth remembering.
+. Wild beast tamers can be counted on; they train the ercest animals,
the ones whose attack is fearful, to obey people. They are not content with
conquering their ferocity; they tame them so thoroughly that they can live
with us. The trainer puts his hand into the lions mouth, the tigers keeper
gives him kisses, the tiny Ethiopian orders his elephant to kneel and to
walk a tight-rope. In this way the wise person is a craftsman at mastering
misfortune: pain, hunger, humiliation, prison, and exile are everywhere
regarded with dread, but when they come up against him they are gentled.
Farewell.
LETTER 8y
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. I suffered shipwreck even before I got on board. I wont add how this
happened for fear that you might think that this too should be counted
among the Stoic paradoxes. When you want I will prove that none
of these paradoxes is false or so amazing as it seems at rst sight to
beactually, I will do so even if you dont want me to. Meanwhile, this
journey has taught me how many superuous possessions we have and
how easily we could choose to put aside those things whose loss we do not
feel if necessity at some point takes them from us.
:. My dear friend Maximus and I are now passing an extremely happy
couple of days with a very few servantsno more than would t in a
single carriageand with no possessions except what we could carry on
our persons. The mattress lies upon the ground and I upon the mattress.
I have two cloaks, one used as a spread, the other as a cover.
. The lunch was minimal. It had been prepared in under an hour. I
go nowhere without dried gs (and am never without writing tablets). If
I have bread, the gs serve as a relish; if I dont have bread, they serve
as bread. They make every day a New Years Day for me, which I make
blessed and fortunate with good thoughts and greatness of mindand
the mind is never greater than when it puts aside what is foreign to it
and makes itself calm by fearing nothing and makes itself rich by desiring
nothing.
. The carriage I travel in is rustic. The only evidence that the mules are
even alive is that they are walking, and the mule driver is shoelessbut
not because of the summer heat. I can scarcely bring myself to want that
the carriage seem to be minemy twisted sense of modesty about what
is right is still hanging on, and whenever we meet some more fashionable
party I blush unwillingly. This is an indication that the views which I prove
and approve of do not yet have a stable and unmovable home. Someone
who blushes at his lowly carriage will take false pride in a costly one.
j. I have made insufcient progress so far. I do not yet dare to go
public with my frugality. I am still concerned about the views of other
travellers.
rr++ra 8y
I should have cried out against the views of the entire human race,
You are mad, you are wrong, you are gawking at superuous things, you
dont value anyone at his true worth. When it comes to personal wealth,
the most careful accountants set the credit of individuals to whom one
might extend a loan or a favour (for favours too are carried on the books
as expenditures) as follows: he has big estates, but owes a lot;
. he has a beautiful house, but it is heavily mortgaged. No one can
quickly put up for sale a more attractive set of house-slaves, but he cannot
meet his debts. If he pays off his creditors, he will have nothing left.
In other matters too you will have to do the same thing and to examine
critically how much of his own each person really has.
y. You think he is rich because he even brings gilded furniture with
him when he travels, because he has estates in every province, because he
reads from a fat account book, because his suburban estate is so big that
it would provoke resentment even if it were located in the wastelands of
Apulia. When you have said all of that, he is still poor. Why? Because he
is in debt. How much does he owe? Everythingunless you happen to
suppose that it makes some difference whether he has borrowed from a
person or from fortune.
8. How is it relevant that ones well-fed mules are all of a uniform
colour? How are those carriages with embossed ornament relevant?
And those fast steeds covered with purple and embroidered cloths:
Golden collars hang down on their chests,
And covered in gold they hold golden bits in their teeth.'
These things improve neither the master nor the mule.
. Cato the Censor, whose existence was as benecial to the state as
Scipios was (for the one waged war on our enemies, the other on our
characters), rode an old nag equipped with saddlebags so he could bring
along what he needed. How I would love him to meet up with one of
these young dandies who travel like rich men, herding his runners, his
Numidian slaves and a cloud of dust before him! No doubt he would seem
to have a better outt and a better retinue than Marcus Cato hadthis
man who amidst all that fancy gear hesitated whether he should take a
position as a gladiator or as a beast-ghter.
+o. What a credit to his time, that a commander, winner of a triumph,
a censor, and (what is greater than all of this) a Cato should be satised
with one old horse, and not even all of that, since part of the horse was
taken up with his saddlebags hanging down on either side. So, wouldnt
' Vergil, Aeneid y.:yy:y.
jo +a+sr++ros
you rank that one lonely horse, rubbed down by Cato himself, ahead of all
those plump ponies, Asturian horses, and high-stepping trotters?
++. I can see that there wont be any end of this subject unless I put an
end to it myself. So here I will be silent with respect to those things which
are called impedimenta no doubt the termwas coined by someone who
foresaw that they would turn out as they have in fact turned out. Now I
want to set out for you the arguments, still just a very few, dealing with
virtuewhich we maintain is sufcient for the happy life.
+:. What is good makes people good (for in music too what is good
makes a person musical); chance things do not make a person good;
therefore they are not good.
The Peripatetics respond to this by claiming that our rst premiss is
false. They say, people do not always become good because of what is
good. In music there are goods (for example a reed-pipe or string or an
organ used to accompany singing); and yet none of these makes a person
musical.
+. Our reply to them will be, You dont understand how we meant
what is good in music. For we are not referring to what equips the
musical person but to what makes him musical. You are turning to the
equipment used by the art, not to the art. However, if there is something
good in the musical art itself, that will certainly make him musical.
+. I want to make that point even clearer. Good in the art of music is
used in two senses, one according to which the musicians performance is
assisted, the other according to which the art is assisted; the instruments
(pipes, organs, strings) bear on the performance but not on the art itself.
For he is an artist even without them, though perhaps he cannot practice
his art. But this dual meaning does not apply to the case of a human being.
For the good of a person and of a life are the same.
+j. Something which the basest and most despicable person can have
is not good; but pimps and gladiators can have riches; therefore riches are
not good.
They reply, Your premiss is false. For both in grammar and in medicine
or navigation we see that the lowliest people can have good things.
+. But those arts never promised greatness of mind, they do not rise
to great heights nor do they turn up their noses at the works of chance.
Virtue elevates a human being and places him above the things which
are dear to mortals. It neither desires nor fears excessively those things
which are called good and those things which are called bad. Swallow,
one of Cleopatras degenerates, had a huge estate. Recently Natalis, whose
tongue was as wicked as it was unclean and whose mouth was used for
rr++ra 8y j+
feminine hygiene, was the heir to lots of people and had lots of heirs
himself. So what? Did the money make him unclean, or did he sully the
money? Money falls to some people the way a penny falls into the sewer.
+y. Virtue takes its stand above all such things. It is assessed at
its own value and judges to be good none of those things which can
turn up just anywhere. Medicine and navigation do not bar them-
selves and their practitioners from admiring such things; someone
who is not a good man can nevertheless be a doctor, can be a nav-
igator, can just as well be a grammarian, by God, as he can be a
cook. Someone who cannot have just anything is not just any sort of
personthe kind of things a person can possess show the kind of
person he is.
+8. A money bag is worth as much as it contains; rather, it counts as an
adjunct to what it contains. Who puts any value on a full purse except the
value of the amount of money it contains? The same thing applies to those
who command great personal fortunes; they are adjuncts and appendages
of their fortunes. So why is a wise person great? Because he has a great
mind. Therefore it is true that what even the most despicable person can
have is not good.
+. So I will never say that freedom from pain is a gooda grasshopper
and a ea have that. I wouldnt even say that calmness and the absence of
trouble are a goodwhat is more at leisure than a worm? You ask what it
is that makes someone wise? The same thing that makes him a god. You
have to give him something divine, heavenly, and splendid. Good does
not come to everyone nor does it allow just anyone to possess it.
:o. Consider
both what each region produces and what each declines to produce.
In one region there are grain crops, in another the grape harvest is richer;
In some place else fruit trees grow and grasses thrive
Without cultivation. Dont you see how the Tmolus produces fragrant saffron,
India produces ivory, the gentle Sabaeans produce their frankincense,
And the unclad Chalybes produce iron?
:+. Those products are allocated by region, so there is reciprocal trade
in the products people need if each group takes its turn in importing
something from the others. But the highest good we are talking about also
has its very own regionit is not produced where ivory or iron come
from. You ask, what is the region of the highest good? The mind. Unless
it is pure and sacred, it cannot receive god.
Vergil, Georgics +.j8.
j: +a+sr++ros
::. Good does not come from bad; but riches come from greed;
therefore riches are not good.
The reply is, It is not true that good is not produced from bad; for
money is produced as a result of temple robbery and theft. And so temple
robbery and theft are certainly bad, but precisely because they produce
more bad things than good. For they produce gain, but along with fear,
worry, and anguish both mental and physical.
:. Whoever says this must accept the proposition that temple robbery
is partly good, since it produces some good, just as it is bad because it
produces many bad outcomes. But what could be more monstrous than
this? And yet we have in fact completely persuaded people that temple
robbery, theft, and adultery should be counted as goods. Think of all
the people who do not blush at theft, who boast of adultery! After all,
small-scale temple robbery is punished, but large-scale temple robbery is
celebrated with a triumphal parade.
:. Add to this the fact that an act of temple robbery, if it is in any
degree good, will also be honourable and will be called a straight deed (for
it is an action of our own). But no human beings thought can accept that
proposition. Therefore good things cannot be produced from something
bad. For if, as you say, temple robbery is only bad because it causes a great
deal of bad, then if you eliminate the punishment for it and guarantee its
safety, then it will be completely good. And yet the greatest punishment
for crimes is in the crimes themselves.
:j. You are wrong, I say, if you postpone punishments until execution
or imprisonment. The deeds are punished as soon as they have been done,
in fact, while they are being done. Therefore good is not produced out
of bad any more than a g is produced from an olive tree: the seedlings
correspond to the seed and good things cannot betray their lineage. Just
as the honourable cannot be produced out of the shameful, so too good
cannot be produced from what is bad; for the good and the honourable
are the same.
:. Certain Stoics reply to this as follows: Let us suppose that money
is a good no matter what its source; still, it does not follow that the money
comes from temple robbery even if its source is temple robbery. Think of it
like this. There is some gold and a viper in the same jar. If you take gold
from the jar, you do not take the gold because there is a snake in there too.
It is not, I say, because it contains a snake that the jar yields me gold, but
it yields gold even though it also contains a snake. In the same way gain
comes from temple robbery not because temple robbery is shameful and
criminal but because it also contains gain. Just as the snake in that jar is
rr++ra 8y j
something bad, while the gold which lies alongside the snake is not, so too
in the case of temple robbery it is the crime which is bad, not the gain.
:y. I <disagree>with these Stoics. For the two cases are very different.
In the one case I can remove the gold without the snake, but in the other I
cannot get the gain without the act of temple robbery; the gain in question
is not lying alongside the crime, but is in fact mixed in with it.
:8. Something which, when we desire to get it, leads us to many bad
outcomes is not a good. But when we desire to get riches we are led to
many bad outcomes. Therefore riches are not good.
The reply is, Your proposition has two meanings. One: when we desire
to get riches we are led to many bad outcomes. But we are also led to many
bad outcomes when we desire to get virtue. One man is shipwrecked while
travelling for the purpose of study, and someone else might be kidnapped.
:. The other meaning is like this: that through which we are led to
bad outcomes is not good. It will not follow from this proposition that we
are led to bad outcomes through riches or pleasures; or if we are led to
many bad outcomes through riches, then not only are riches not good, but
they are bad. But you say only that they are not good. Moreover, goes
the reply, you concede that there is some use in having riches: you count
them among the advantages. But by the same argument they will <not>
even be advantageous, since through them many disadvantageous things
happen to us.
o. Certain people reply to themas follows: You are wrong to blame the
disadvantageous outcomes on the riches. The riches dont hurt anyone.
The harm is done either by each persons own stupidity or by someone
elses wickedness, just as no one is killed by a swordthe sword is merely
the weapon of the killer. Therefore the riches do not harmyou just because
harm is done to you on account of the riches.
+. In my view Posidonius has a better reply. He says that riches are
the cause of the bad outcomes, not because riches themselves do anything
but because they instigate people to action. For there is a difference
between the efcient cause (which must do harm immediately) and the
antecedent cause. Riches have this antecedent causality; they iname our
minds, they breed pride, they attract envy, and they so disturb the intellect
that a reputation for wealth gives us pleasure, even when it is bound to
harm us.
:. But it is appropriate that all good things should be free of blame; they
are pure, they do not corrupt our minds, they do not tempt us. To be sure,
they uplift us andexpandus, but without making us self-important. Things
which are good produce condence; riches produce boldness; things which
j +a+sr++ros
are good give us greatness of mind; riches produce arrogance. However,
arrogance is nothing but a false semblance of greatness.
. The reply is, Looked at that way, riches are also bad, not just not
good. They would be bad if they could themselves do harm, if, as I said,
they had efcient causality. But as it is they have antecedent causality,
which not only stimulates the mind but even attracts it. For riches produce
a plausible appearance of goodness which is credible to the many.
. Virtue too has antecedent causality with regard to envy; for many
people are envied because of their wisdom and many because of their
justice. But it does not have this causality from within itself nor is it a
plausible cause. In fact, the more plausible appearance is presented to
human minds by virtue, which summons them to love and awe.
j. Posidonius thinks one should make the following argument: those
things which do not produce greatness or condence or calmness in
the soul are not good; but riches and good health and things like them
produce none of those results; therefore they are not good. He further
intensies this argument in the following manner: those things which do
not produce greatness or condence or calmness in the soul, but rather
arrogance, self-importance, and presumption, are bad. But we are driven
to these states by chance things. Therefore they are not good.
. The reply is, By this argument, those things are not even advan-
tageous. Advantageous things are of one kind, goods of another. The
advantageous is that which has more usefulness than inconvenience. Good
must be unalloyed and completely free of harm. The good is not what
yields more benet, but rather that which produces nothing but benet.
y. Furthermore, advantage applies to animals, to imperfect humans,
and to fools. And so what is disadvantageous can be mixed in with it, but
it is labelled advantageous because of its greater part. Good only applies
to the wise person and it must be unsullied.
8. Cheer up. Only one knot remains, though it is Herculean. The
good is not made up of what is bad. But riches are made up of many
instances of poverty. Therefore riches are not good. Our school does not
accept this argument, but the Peripatetics both pose the argument and
solve it. However, Posidonius says that this sophism, which circulates in
all the schools of dialectic, is refuted as follows by Antipater.
. Poverty is said not with regard to possession but with regard to
removal (or, as the ancients said, privation; the Greeks say kata ster
esin);
it states not what it has but what it does not have. And so nothing can
be lled up by many instances of emptiness; many things create riches,
not many instances of want. Your understanding of poverty, he says,
rr++ra 8y jj
is inappropriate. For poverty is not the state which possesses just a few
things, but the state which does not possess many things. So it is not called
poverty because of what it has but because of what it lacks.
o. I could express my meaning more easily if there were a Latin word by
which one could express anhuparxia. This is the word Antipater reserves
for poverty. I do not see what poverty could be except the possession
of just a little. When we have lots of free time we will consider what
is the essence of riches and of poverty. But then we will also reect on
whether it might not be better to assuage poverty and to strip wealth of its
haughtiness than to go to court over the wordsas though a judgement
had already been reached about the things.
+. Let us suppose that we have been summoned to an assembly. A law
is proposed to abolish riches. Will we convince people for or against by
using these arguments? Will we, by using these arguments, bring it about
that the Roman people should seek out and praise poverty, the foundation
and basis of its empire, but stand in fear of its own wealth; that it should
reect that it has discovered riches among the vanquished, that riches are
the source of the bribery, corruption, and civil strife which have invaded a
city of surpassing piety and self-control, that the spoils of foreign peoples
are displayed with excessive luxury, and that what one people has taken
from everyone else can even more easily be taken away by everyone from
that one? It is better to argue in favour of this law, and to conquer the
passions rather than to limit them. If we can, let us speak more bravely; if
we cannot, let us at least speak more plainly.
Farewell.
LETTER +o
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. I am rather slow in replying to your letter, not because I am
bogged down with business. Dont listen to that excuseI am at leisure,
and so is everyone who wants to be. Activities do not pursue people,
people embrace activities and suppose that being busy is a proof that
one is happy. So why is it, then, that I did not write back right away?
Your query t right into the framework of the project on which I am
labouring.
:. For you know that I am eager to write a comprehensive work on
ethics and to articulate all the questions which pertain to it. And so I
hesitated about whether I should put you off until the appropriate time
came along for your topic or whether I should give you my judgement out
of sequence. It seemed more civilized not to keep waiting someone who
has come so far.
. And so I shall pluck this too out of the established sequence of
connected issues and if there are any others of the same sort I shall send
themalong to you on my own, even if you dont ask. What are these issues,
you ask? Things which it is more pleasant than benecial to know, like the
one you are asking about: is the good a body?
. The good does something, since it provides benet. What does
something is a body. The good stimulates the mind and, in a way, gives
it shape and cohesion; and these are characteristics of body. The goods
of the body are bodies, and so, therefore, are those of the mind. For the
mind too is a body.
j. The good of a human being must be a body, since he is himself
bodily. And I miss my mark if the things which nourish him and either
preserve or restore his health are not also bodies. Therefore his good is
also a body.
I dont suppose that you will doubt that the emotions are bodies (to
stick in a new point which you arent asking about)for example anger,
love, sadnessunless you doubt that they change our expression, furrow
our brow, relax our face, summon a blush, or induce pallor. Well, then?
rr++ra +o jy
Do you think that such obvious marks on the body can be inicted by
anything other than a body?
. If the emotions are bodies, so too are the ailments of our souls, such
as greed and cruelty, defects which have hardened and reached the state
of incorrigibility. So too, then, are vice and all its species, malice, envy,
and pride.
y. So too, then, are the good traitsrst because they are their
contraries, and second because they will produce in you the same signs.
Or do you not see how much energy is given to the eyes by courage?
How steady a gaze is given by practical wisdom? How much mildness and
calmness is given by reverence? Howtranquil a demeanour is given by joy?
Howmuch rmness is given by strict self-discipline? Howmuch relaxation
by gentleness? So, the things which alter the colour and disposition of
bodies and exercise their dominion in bodies are themselves bodies. But
all the virtues which I have mentioned are goods, and so is whatever comes
from them.
8. Surely it is not in doubt that that by which something can be
touched is a body? For no thing can touch or be touched except a
body, as Lucretius says.' But all those things which I have mentioned
would not alter the body unless they touched it. Therefore they are
bodies.
. Moreover, whatever has enough power to set something in motion
and drive it, or to hold it back and restrain it, is a body. Well, then? Does
fear not hold us back? Does boldness not set us in motion? Does courage
not send us forward and give us drive? Does temperance not restrain us
and call us back? Does joy not lift us up and does sadness not depress
us?
+o. Finally, whatever we do we carry out at the command either of vice
or of virtue. What commands the body is a body, what brings force to
bear on a body is a body. The good of the body is bodily and the good of a
human being is the good of a body. And so it is bodily.
++. Since I have indulged you as you wished me to, I shall now
say to myself what I can see you are going to say to me: were play-
ing checkers here. Technical precision is being worn away in pointless
superuities. These things do not produce good people, merely learned
ones.
+:. Being wise is a more accessible matter, rather, a more straightforward
matter. To produce a good mind it <sufces> to use just a bit of
' Lucretius, De Rerum Natura +.o.
j8 +a+sr++ros
scholarship, but we squander philosophy itself on superuities, as we
do everything else. We suffer from a lack of self-control when it comes
to scholarship, just as we do in everything. We are learning for the
schoolroom, but not for real life.
Farewell.
LETTER ++
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. You want me to write and tell you what I think about this question
which is bandied about within our school, whether justice, courage,
practical wisdom, and the rest of the virtues are animals. My dear
Lucilius, it is this technicality which has made us seem to be giving our
wits a workout on pointless topics and frittering away our leisure on
debates which will do no one any good. I will do as you wish and explicate
the views of our school; but I confess that I am myself of another opinion.
I think that there are some topics which are appropriate to those who wear
Greek-style shoes and cloaks. So anyway, I will tell you what the topics
were which stirred up the ancientsor rather what topics the ancients
stirred up.
:. It is agreed that the mind is an animal, since the mind itself makes
us animals, and since they have derived the term animal from it; virtue,
however, is nothing but the mind in a certain disposition; therefore it is
an animal. Next, virtue does something; but nothing can be done without
an impulse; and only animals have impulse, so if it has an impulse it is an
animal.
. He objects, If virtue is an animal, then virtue itself has virtue. Why
shouldnt it have itself? Just as the wise person does everything through
his virtue, so virtue does everything through itself. So, he says, all the
skills are animals too and all of our thoughts and mental conceptions. It
follows that many thousands of animals dwell within this narrow breast
and that each of us is or has many animals. You ask what response can
be given to this objection? Each and every one of those things will be an
animal, but there will not be many animals. Why is that? I will tell you, if
you give me your focussed attention.
. Individual animals should have individual substances; all of them
have one mind; and so they can be individuals but they cannot be many
individuals. I am both an animal and a man, but for all that you will not
say that we are two. Why is that? Because we would have to be separated
from each other. My claim is this: in order to be two, one thing must be
o +a+sr++ros
distanced from the other. Whatever is multiple within a single object falls
under one nature and so is one.
j. My mind is an animal and so am I, but we are not two. Why? Because
my mind is part of me. Something will be counted by itself only when it
stands by itself. But when it is a component of something else, it cannot
seem to be other than it. Why is that? I will tell you: because what is other
ought to be distinctly its own, entire and complete within itself.
. I have declared that I hold a different view; for if this is accepted not
only will the virtues be animals but the vices which are their opposites will
be too and so will the passions, such as anger, fear, grief, and suspicion.
The matter will keep on going: all opinions and all thoughts will be
animals. And this can in no way be acceptable; for it is not the case that
everything which comes from a person is a person.
y. He asks, What is justice? The mind in a certain disposition. And
so if the mind is an animal, justice is too. No, not at all. For justice is a
disposition and a kind of property of the mind. The same mind takes on
different congurations and it is not the case that it becomes a different
animal every time it does something different, nor is what is done by the
mind an animal either.
8. <If> justice is an animal, <if> courage is, if the other virtues are
animals, do they intermittently cease to be animals and then start up
again, or are they always animals? Virtues cannot cease. Therefore many
animalsinnumerable animals, in factroam around in this mind.
. They are not many, he says, because they are linked to one thing
and they are parts and limbs of one thing. So we are supposing that our
mind has an appearance like that of the hydra, which has many heads,
each one of which ghts on its own and inicts its own harm. But yet
none of those heads is an animal, rather it is the head of an animal,
while the hydra itself is one animal. No one has said that in a chimaera
the lion or the dragon is an animal; they are its parts and parts are not
animals.
+o. How do you conclude that justice is an animal? He says, It does
something and is benecial; but what does something and is benecial has
an impulse, <and what has an impulse> is an animal. This is true if it
has its own impulse; <but it does not have its own impulse> but rather
that of the mind.
++. Until it dies, every animal is what it started out as. A human being
is a human being until it dies, a horse is a horse, a dog is a dog; it cannot
become something different. Justice, i.e., the mind in a certain disposition,
is an animal. Let us believe that; then courage is an animal, i.e., the mind in
rr++ra ++ +
a certain disposition. Which mind? The one which was justice a moment
ago? It is retained in the previous animal and it cannot become a different
animal. It must remain in the animal in which it rst began.
+:. Furthermore, there cannot be one mind for two animals, let alone for
several. If justice, courage, self-control, and the other virtues are animals,
how can they have one mind? They ought to have individual minds of
their own or they wont be animals.
+. There cannot be one body for several animals. Even they will admit
that. What body belongs to justice? The mind. Well, what body belongs
to courage? The same mind. But there cannot be one body for two
animals.
+. But the same mind acquires the disposition of justice and that of
courage and self-control. This could happen if at the time when it was
justice it was not courage, and at the time when it was courage it was
not self-control. But now, all the virtues are together. So, how will the
individual virtues be animals, when there is but one mind, which cannot
produce more than one animal?
+j. Finally, no animal is a part of another animal; but justice is a part of
a mind; therefore it is not an animal.
But I think I am wasting my efforts on a pretty obvious point. The
issue is a better subject for outrage than for debate. No animal is equal to
another. Look at the bodies of every thing. Each has its very own colour
and shape and size.
+. This, I think, is yet another of the reasons for holding that the
intellect of the divine craftsman is awesome: that it never repeats itself
throughout the vast multitude of things that exist. Even things which look
similar are, when you compare them, quite different. He has created so
many kinds of leaves, each marked out with its own distinctive features; so
many animals, each of a different size from the otherscertainly there is
some difference. He demanded of himself that things which were distinct
must also be dissimilar and unequal. All the virtues, as you say, are equal.
Therefore they are not animals.
+y. Every animal acts on its own; virtue, however, does nothing on
its own, but in conjunction with a human being. All animals are either
rational, like human beings and gods, <or non-rational, like beasts and
cattle>; the virtues are certainly rational; but they are neither human nor
gods; therefore they are not animals.
+8. No rational animal acts unless it is rst stimulated by the appearance
of something, then has an impulse, and then assent conrms this impulse.
I will tell you what assent is. It is tting that I walk; I do not walk until I
: +a+sr++ros
have said this to myself and given my approval to this opinion. It is tting
that I sit; then alone do I sit. This assent does not occur in a virtue.
+. Suppose that the virtue is practical wisdom. How can it assent that
it is appropriate for me to walk? Nature does not allow this. For practical
wisdom looks out for the person to whom it belongs, not for itself; for it
can neither walk nor sit. Therefore it does not have assent, and what does
not have assent is not a rational animal. And virtue, if it is an animal, is
rational. But it is not rational, therefore it is not an animal.
:o. If virtue is an animal, and every good is virtue, then every good
is an animal. Our school concedes this. Saving your father is a good and
giving a wise opinion in the Senate is a good, and coming to a just verdict
is a good. Therefore saving your father is an animal and giving a wise
opinion in the Senate is an animal. They take the point so far that one can
scarcely stop from laughing: being prudently silent is a good < dining
is a good>; so being silent and dining are animals.
:+. My Lord, I wont stop tickling and amusing myself with this techni-
cal silliness. Justice andcourage, if theyare animals, are certainlyterrestrial.
Every terrestrial animal gets cold, hungry, and thirsty. Therefore justice
gets cold, courage gets hungry, and clemency gets thirsty.
::. More? Shouldnt I ask them what shape those animals have, that of
a human or of a horse or a beast? If they give them a round shape like the
one god has, I will ask whether greed and luxury and madness are just as
round. For they too are animals. If they make them round too I will carry
on and ask whether wise walking is an animal. They have to agree that it
is and then to say that walking is an animal, and a round animal at that.
:. You shouldnt think that <I> am the rst of our school to speak
independently of established doctrine and to form my own opinion;
Cleanthes and his student Chrysippus did not agree on what walking
is. Cleanthes says that it is the pneuma extended from the leading part
of the soul all the way to the feet, while Chrysippus says that it is the
leading part of the soul itself. So why shouldnt one follow the example of
Chrysippus himself and speak for oneself, ridiculing the view that those
goods are animals, and so many of them that the cosmos itself cannot
contain them?
:. He says, The virtues are not many animals, but for all that they are
animals. For just as someone is both a poet and an orator and is for all
that one person, so too those virtues are animals but they are not many
animals. The mind and the mind which is just and wise and brave are the
same thing, being in a certain disposition with respect to the individual
virtues.
rr++ra ++
:j. That eliminates the <controversy> and we can agree. For I too
concede for the time being that the mind is an animal; I can leave to a later
time the question of what settled judgement I come to on that issue, but
I deny that its actions are animals. Otherwise every word and every line
of poetry will also be an animal. For if wise conversation is a good and
every good is an animal, then <conversation> is an animal. A wise line
of poetry is a good and every good is an animal; therefore a line of poetry
is an animal. Thus I sing of arms and the man is an animal but they
cannot get away with saying that it is round since it has six feet!
:. You say, The whole business that is at issue right this minute is a
tangled web. I split my sides with laughter when I entertain the notion
that a solecism, a barbarism, and a syllogismare animals, and I put suitable
faces on them as a painter would. Is this what we debate with furrowed
brows and creased foreheads? Here I cannot even use that quotation from
Caelius, what solemn silliness! The silliness is just ridiculous.
So why dont we rather deal with something which is useful and
productive for us and investigate how we can attain the virtues and what
road will guide us to them?
:y. Teach me not whether courage is an animal, but that no animal
is happy without courage, unless he has fortied himself against chance
events and through mental training has mastered every accident before
it hits him. What is courage? An unassailable fortication for human
weakness which, when one surrounds oneself with it, enables a person to
live safely in this lifes siege. For he makes use of his own strength and his
own weapons.
:8. At this point I want to cite for you the view of the Stoic Posidonius:
You can never think yourself safe with the weapons given to you by
fortune; ght with your own. Fortune does not arm a man against herself;
and so they stand in battle array against the enemy but are unarmed in the
face of fortune.
:. Certainly Alexander laid waste to and routed the Persians, the
Hyrcanians, the Indians and all the peoples between the rising sun and
the shores of Ocean, but he himself lay in darkness because he killed one
friend and lost another, lamenting in alternation his crime and his loss;
the conqueror of so many kings and peoples caved in to anger and sorrow,
since he brought it to pass that he could control everything but his own
passions.
o. What massive error grips those men who want to project their
right of conquest across the seas and judge themselves most happy if
they control many provinces by military might and add new provinces to
+a+sr++ros
the oldunaware of that grand kingdom which is equal to the gods: the
greatest empire is to command oneself.
+. Let him teach me how sacred a thing justice is, justice which looks
to the good of others and seeks nothing from itself but the use of itself.
Let it have nothing to do with ambition and glory; let it be satised with
itself. Let each person convince himself of this above all: I should be just
without reward. Thats not enough. Let himalso convince himself of this:
let me even enjoy spending freely on this most splendid virtue; let all my
thoughts be as remote as possible from matters of personal convenience.
You shouldnt consider what the reward is for a just action; there is a
greater reward in justice itself.
:. Hold before your eyes what I was saying a short while back, that
it makes no difference how many people are aware of your fairness. The
person who wants to advertise his virtue is working for glory rather than
virtue. Are you unwilling to be just without glory? My Lord! you will
often have to be just even if it means suffering disgrace and then, if you
are wise, you would derive satisfaction from that bad reputation as long as
it has been honourably earned.
Farewell.
LETTER ++y
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. Youre going to stir up a lot of trouble for me and, though you dont
realize it, youll get me into a huge and bothersome quarrel by posing for
me the kind of minor questions on which I can neither disagree with my
own school without jeopardizing my good relations nor agree with them
in clear conscience. You ask whether it is true, as the Stoics hold, that
wisdom is a good but that being wise is not a good. First I will set out the
Stoic view; then I shall make bold to announce my judgement.
:. My school holds that what is good is a body, since what is good does
something and whatever does something is a body. What is good benets;
but something should do something in order to confer benet; if it does
something, it is a body. They say that wisdom is a good. It follows that it
is necessary that they also say that wisdom is bodily.
. But they do not think that being wise is of the same kind. For it is
incorporeal and an attribute of the other, i.e., wisdom. And so it neither
does anything nor does it confer benet. What, then? he says, Do we not
say it is good to be wise? We do, but only by reference to that on which it
depends, i.e., by reference to wisdom itself.
. Before I begin to withdraw from them and take up a distinct position,
listen to the rejoinder delivered to them by others. They say, Looked at
that way, it is not even good to live happily! Like it or not, they have to reply
that the happy life is something good but that living happily is not good.
j. Furthermore, my school also faces this objection: you want to be
wise; therefore being wise is something worth choosing; if it is a thing
worth choosing, it is a good thing. My school is forced to twist words
and to insert an extra syllable into choose which our language does
not recognize. If you permit, I will add it. They say, what is good is
worth choosing, and what we get when we have achieved the good is
choiceworthy. It is not pursued as being good, but it is an adjunct of the
good pursued.
. I do not hold the same view and I think that our school resorts to
this position because they are still impeded by their initial commitment
and they are not permitted to change their formula. We are accustomed to
+a+sr++ros
give considerable weight to the preconception of all people and our view
is that it is an argument that something is true if all people believe it; for
example, we conclude that there are gods for this reason among others,
that there is implanted in everyone an opinion about gods and there is no
culture anywhere so far beyond laws and customs that it does not believe
in some gods. When we debate the eternity of souls, it has considerable
weight with us that there is a consensus among people who either fear
the gods of the underworld or worship them. I use this public mode of
persuasion: you wont nd anyone who does not think that both wisdom
and being wise are good.
y. I am not going to do what defeated [gladiators] do, appeal to the
people. Lets start to ght with our own weapons. Is the attribute of
something outside that of which it is the attribute or is it within that of
which it is the attribute? If it is within that of which it is the attribute,
then it is every bit as much a body as that of which it is the attribute. For
nothing can be an attribute without touch, and what touches is a body.
Nothing can be an attribute without an action, and what acts is a body.
If it is outside, then its withdrawal comes after its arrival as an attribute.
What withdraws has motion and what has motion is a body.
8. You expect me to deny that a run is one thing and running something
different, or that heat is one thing and being hot something different, or
that light is one thing and being light is something different. I concede that
they are different, but not that they are in different categories. If health is
an indifferent, then being healthy is <also> an indifferent; if beauty is an
indifferent, then being beautiful is also an indifferent. If justice is good,
then so is being just; if disgrace is bad, then so is being in disgracejust
as much, in fact, as having a diseased eye is bad if eye disease is bad. To
see this point, [reect that] neither can exist without the other: he who is
wise is a wise person; he who is a wise person is wise. It is beyond doubt
that the quality of one correlates with the quality of the other, so much so
that some people even think that the two are one and the same.
. But I would like to ask, since everything is either bad or good or
indifferent, which group do you put being wise in? They say that it is not
good; it is certainly not bad; it follows that it is in-between. But we call
in-between or indifferent those things which can occur to a bad person
just as well as to a good person, such as money, beauty, and high birth.
But this being wise cannot occur except to a good person; therefore it is
not indifferent. And yet it is not bad, certainly, since it cannot occur to a
bad person; therefore it is good. That which only a good person can have
is good; only a good person can have being wise; therefore it is good.
rr++ra ++y y
+o. He says, It is an attribute of wisdom. So, this thing you call being
wise, does it bring about wisdom or does it suffer wisdom? Whether it
brings it about or suffers it, either way it is a body; for both what suffers
and what acts are body. If it is a body it is good, since the only thing
lacking, which prevented it from being good, was its incorporeality.
++. The Peripatetics hold that there is no difference between wisdom
and being wise, since in each of them the other is also present. For surely
you dont think that anyone is wise except him who has wisdom and surely
you dont think that anyone who is wise lacks wisdom.
+:. The early dialecticians distinguished these things, and the division
was inherited from them by the Stoics. I will tell you what this division
is. A eld is one thing, and possessing a eld is something different, isnt
it? since possessing a eld pertains to the person who possesses the eld,
not to the eld itself. In this way wisdom is one thing and being wise is
something different. You will, I think, concede that these are two distinct
things, what is possessed and he who possesses it. Wisdom is possessed,
and he who is wise possesses it. Wisdom is a mind made complete, that
is, brought to its highest and best condition. For it is the art of life. What
is being wise? I cannot say a mind made complete, but rather it is that
which is a feature of someone who possesses a mind made complete; in
this sense a good mind is one thing and it is something distinct to, as it
were, possess a good mind.
+. He says, There are bodily natures, such as this human being is and
this horse is; they are then accompanied by motions of the mind which
express the bodies. These motions have something about them which is
distinctive and is abstracted from the bodies. For example, I see Cato
walking; sense perception showed this and the mind believed it. What I
see is a body and I directed my eyes and my mind to the body. Then I
say: Cato walks. He says, What I am now saying is not a body but
something expressible about the body and some people call this an effatum,
others call it an enuntiatum, still others call it a dictum. Thus when we
say wisdom we understand something which is bodily; when we say
is wise we are talking about a body. It makes an enormous difference
whether you mention the person or talk about the person.
+. Let us suppose for the present that those are two distinct things (for
I am not yet announcing my own opinion); what is to prevent there from
being something which is distinct but nevertheless good? I was saying just
a moment ago that a eld is one thing and that it is something else to
possess a eld. Well, of coursefor the possessor is of a different nature
than the thing possessed. The one is land and the other is a human being.
8 +a+sr++ros
But in the case we are discussing, both wisdom itself and he who possesses
it are of the same nature.
+j. Moreover, in that case what is possessed is something different
from the possessor; in this case the possessor and the possessed are in
the same object. A eld is possessed in accordance with legality, wisdom
in accordance with nature. The former can be alienated and given over
to another person, but the latter never leaves its master. So you have no
reason to compare things which are so different from each other.
I had begun to say that the things in question could be two and yet both
could be good; for example, wisdom and the wise person are two and you
agree that both are good. Just as there is nothing to prevent both wisdom
and he who possesses wisdom from being good, in the same way there
is nothing to prevent both wisdom and having wisdom (i.e., being wise)
from being good.
+. I want to be a wise person for this reason, in order to be wise. What
then? Is the thing without which the other thing is not good, not itself
good? You people certainly say that wisdom is not worth accepting if it is
not exercised. What is the exercise of wisdom? Being wise! That is what is
most valuable in wisdom; without it wisdom is empty. If tortures are bad,
being tortured is also bad, so much so that the former wouldnt be bad
if you eliminated the consequences. Wisdom is the condition of a mind
brought to completion; being wise is the exercise of a mind brought to
completion; how can the exercise of something not be good, when that
thing is itself not good unless it is exercised?
+y. I ask you whether wisdom is worth choosing and you say yes. I ask
whether the exercise of wisdom is worth choosing and you say yes. For
you say that you would not accept wisdom if you were prevented from
exercising it. What is worth choosing is good. Being wise is the exercise
of wisdom, just as speaking is the exercise of eloquence and seeing is the
exercise of the eyes. Therefore being wise is the exercise of wisdom; but
the exercise of wisdom is worth choosing. Therefore being wise is worth
choosing; if it is worth choosing it is good.
+8. For some time now I have been condemning myself and behaving
like those whom I criticize, wasting words on an obvious issue. Who could
be in any doubt that if heat is bad then being hot is bad? If cold is bad then
being cold is bad? If life is good then living is good? All of that concerns
wisdom but is not in wisdom. But we must spend our time in wisdom.
+. Even if we want to digress a bit, wisdom has lots of room for
quiet retreats. Let us investigate the nature of the gods, the nourishment
of the heavenly bodies, the various paths of the stars, whether our
rr++ra ++y
affairs are moved in accordance with their motions, whether they are the
source of movement for the bodies and souls of all things, whether even
the things which are called fortuitous are actually bound by a denite
law and nothing in this cosmos unfolds without warning or without
order. These issues are already somewhat removed from the education
of our characters, but they do uplift the mind and draw it towards the
grandeur of the very things which it is considering. But the issues which
I was discussing just a moment ago reduce the mind and degrade it.
They do not, as you people think, sharpen the mind; they just make it
thinner.
:o. I implore you, do we exhaust the concern, which is so vital, that we
owe to topics which are greater and better by dealing with an issue which
may well be false and is certainly useless? What good will it do me to know
whether wisdom is one thing and being wise something else? What good
will it do me to know that the former is good <and the latter is not>? Ill
take my chances and leave it to the dice whether the following wish comes
true: that I get wisdom and you get being wise. We will be even.
:+. Better yet, get going and show me how to attain them. Tell me
what I should avoid, what I should pursue, what I should focus on in
order to strengthen a failing mind, how I might drive away and ward off
things which make a surprise attack on me and afict me, how I might be
equal to so many misfortunes, how I might eliminate the disasters which
have burst in on me, how I might eliminate the ones which I myself have
burst in on. Teach me how to sustain grief without groaning myself, good
fortune without groaning from others, how not to wait around for the nal
and inevitable moment, but to take refuge there myself when the time
seems right.
::. Nothing seems more shameful to me than to wish for death. For if
you want to live, why wish to die? Or if you do not want to live, why ask
the gods for something which they gave you at your birth? For they have
arranged it so that you will die someday, even if you dont want to, and
so that when you do want to the matter is in your own hands; the one is
necessary for you, the other permitted.
:. I have read an opening statement by a very eloquent man indeed,
one which is extremely shameful in these days. He said, So, let me die as
soon as possible! Madman, you are asking for what is already yours. So,
let me die as soon as possible! Perhaps you have grown old while saying
such things; otherwise, what point is there in delay? No one is holding
you back. Escape as you think t; choose any part of nature and tell it to
give you a way out. Certainly these things are also the elements through
yo +a+sr++ros
which the world is governed: water, earth, air; all those things are just as
much reasons for living as they are paths to death.
:. So, let me die as soon as possible? Just what do you mean by as
soon as possible? What day have you got planned for it? It can be carried
out faster than you might like. Those are the words of a weak mind,
angling for pity with that piece of self-loathing. Someone who wishes for
death doesnt really want it. Ask the gods for life and health; if youve
decided to die, there is this benet in death, that one ceases to wish for it.
:j. Lucilius my friend, let us mull over these thoughts, let us shape our
minds with these reections. This is wisdom and this is being wise, not
stirring up utterly pointless technicality in empty little debates. Fortune
has put so many questions to you which you have not yet resolved. Are
you still joking around with sophisms? How foolish it is to swish your
weapons in the air when you have been given the signal to ght! Get rid
of those toy weapons; you need the kind of weapons which settle things.
Tell me how my soul can be free of the upsets of sadness and fear, by
what means I might purge this burden of hidden desires. Let something be
accomplished.
:. Wisdomis good, but being wise is not good. This is the way to have
people say that we arent wise, so that this entire practice gets ridiculed
for busying itself with frivolities.
What if you heard that there are also debates about whether a future
wisdom is something good? What doubt can there be, I ask you, that
the granaries do not yet perceive that the harvest is coming nor does
childhood yet understand through any strength or power that maturity
is approaching. Health which is still to come is, in the meantime, of no
benet to the patient any more than a rest many months after the fact
refreshes a runner or a wrestler.
:y. Who does not know that something in the future is not good
precisely because it is in the future? For what is good certainly brings
benet; but only present things can bring benet. If it does not benet, it
is not a good; if it does benet, it is automatically a good. I am a future wise
man. This will be a good when I am wise; meanwhile it is not. Something
must exist before it can have a quality.
:8. So how, I beg of you, can what is still nothing already be good?
What clearer proof could you want that something does not exist than if I
say of it it is in the future? For it is obvious that what is going to come has
not arrived. Spring will be along so I know that it is winter. Summer
will be along so I know that it is not summer. I think the best argument
that something is not present is the fact that it is future.
rr++ra ++y y+
:. I will be wise, I hope, but in the meantime I am not wise. If I had
that good, I would already be free of my present bad state. It lies in the
future that I might be wise; on this basis you may gather that I am not
yet wise. Those two things, good and bad, do not converge nor do they
coexist in the same person.
o. Let us pass over all these excessively clever trivialities and hurry on
to things which will bring us some help. No one who is running, worried,
to summon a midwife for his daughter in labour stops to read carefully
through the proclamation and schedule for the games. No one who is
running home to a house on re scans the checkers board to see how he
can free his trapped piece.
+. But, good Lord, all these things are trumpeted for you from all
sides: your house on re, your children in danger, your homeland under
siege, your possessions pillaged. Add to that shipwrecks, earthquakes, and
anything else one might fear. While preoccupied by such things, do you
have the leisure for things which do no more than amuse the mind? Are
you asking what the difference is between wisdom and being wise? Are
you tying knots and then untying them, while such a massive threat hangs
over your head?
:. Nature did not give us such a generous supply of free time that we
have the luxury of letting any of it go to waste. And consider how much
is lost even to those who are most careful; some is taken from each of us
by our own health, some by the health of our friends and family; some is
taken up by unavoidable business, some by public affairs; sleep takes its
share of our lives. With such a limited and fast-moving supply of time,
time which sweeps us away, what good does it do to squander pointlessly
the majority of it?
. And add to this the fact that the mind is in the habit of amusing itself
rather than healing itself and turning philosophy into a leisure activity
when it is really a cure. I do not know what the difference is between
wisdom and being wise. But I do know that it makes no difference to me
whether I know or not. Tell me, when I have learned what the difference
is between wisdom and being wise, will I be wise? Why, then, do you
tie me down with the words of wisdom instead of with its deeds? Make
me braver, make me more condent, make me equal to fortune, make me
superior to it. But I can be superior if I direct all of my learning to that end.
Farewell.
LETTER ++8
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. You demand fromme more frequent letters. Lets compare accounts:
youll be in no position to pay your debt. Our agreement was that your
contributions would come rst, that you would write and I would reply.
But I wont be intransigent; I know you are a good credit risk. So I will
give in advance and will not do what Cicero, an extremely eloquent man,
asks Atticus to do, that is to jot down whatever came into his head, even
if he had nothing to say.
:. There can never be a lack of things for me to write about, even
though I pass over all those things which ll Ciceros letters: who is having
trouble with his election campaign, who is campaigning with someone
elses resources and who with his own, who relies on Caesar in seeking
the consulship, who relies on Pompey, and who relies on money, what a
heartless loan shark Caecilius isthose near and dear to him cannot get
a penny out of him at less than one percent a month! It is better to deal
with ones own faults than those of other people, to examine oneself and
to see how many things one is campaigning for, and not to canvass for
someone else.
. Lucilius, it is a splendid thing, a source of tranquillity and inde-
pendence, to seek nothing and to ignore completely fortunes political
campaigns. Dont you think it delightful to stand by at your leisure and
to watch the electoral marketplace without having to buy or sell any-
thingwhile the candidates wait anxiously in their precincts and one
promises money, another works through an agent, someone else smothers
with kisses the hands of people whose hands he will refuse even to touch
once he is elected, all of themwaiting open-mouthed for the announcement
of the results?
. How much greater the pleasure enjoyed by the man who watches
in tranquillity not the praetorian or consular elections but those greater
contests in which some people seek annually recurring honours, or seek
permanent political power, or successful outcomes for their military
campaigns and triumphal parades, or wealth, or marriage and children, or
rr++ra ++8 y
health for themselves and their families! It takes a truly great character just
to seek nothing, to ask for no ones support, and to say I have no business
with you, fortune; I am not letting you get at me. I know that you permit
people like Cato to lose at the polls and people like Vatinius to be elected.
I ask for nothing. This is what it means to reduce fortune to the ranks.
j. So one can write about these things back and forth and set out
this material it is always fresh and newsince we look around and
see so many thousands of people who are troubled. In order to achieve
a disastrous result, they struggle to overcome hardships on their way to
misery and pursue things which they will soon have to ee fromor sneer at.
. Who has ever been satised by getting something which was too
much to hope for? Prosperity is not insatiable, as people think; it is puny.
So it doesnt satisfy anyone. You think those things are lofty because you
are situated far below them. The person who has reached them thinks
they are small. I guarantee you that he will try to climb higher still. What
you think of as the top is a mere step to him.
y. But ignorance of the truth puts everyone in a bad way. They are
misled by false report and so rush off towards what they think are good
things; then, when they have suffered so much to get them, they see that
they are actually bad or empty or less important than they had hoped. The
majority of people admire things which deceive from a distance; what the
crowd thinks good is the standard of importance for them.
8. Lets enquire what the good is, so that this doesnt happen to
us. There are several accounts of it, and different people articulate it
differently. Some dene it thus: the good is what entices our mind, what
draws it to itself. Right away there is an objection to this account: what if
it entices our mind, but entices it into ruination? You know how many bad
things are alluring. What is true and what is merely similar to the truth
are different. So, what is good is linked to what is true; for it isnt good
unless it is true. But what entices us to itself and lures us is merely like the
truth. It insinuates, it pesters, it leads us on.
. Some people have dened it thus: the good is what stimulates desire
for itself; or, what stimulates an impulse of the mind which strives towards
it. The same objection is made to this formulation. For many things which
stimulate a mental impulse are pursued to the detriment of those pursuing
them. Those who dened the good as follows did a better job: the good is
that which stimulates a mental impulse towards itself in accordance with
nature and is worth pursuing only when it begins to be worth choosing.
Right away this is something honourable, for the honourable is what is
completely worth pursuing.
y +a+sr++ros
+o. This point reminds me to mention the difference between the good
and the honourable. They do share something with each other which is
inseparable from them. Only what has something honourable in it can
be good, and the honourable is certainly good. So what is the difference
between them? The honourable is the perfected good, by which the happy
life is made complete and by contact with which other things are also made
good.
++. Here is the kind of thing I mean. There are certain things which are
neither good nor bad, like military service, diplomatic service, and service
as a judge. When they are conducted honourably, they start to be good
and make the transition from being uncertain to being good. Alliance with
the honourable makes something good, but the honourable is good all on
its own. Good ows from the honourable; the honourable depends only
on itself. What is good could have been bad. What is honourable couldnt
have been otherwise than good.
+:. Certain people have advanced this denition: the good is what is
according to nature. Note what I am saying: what is good is according
to nature, but it is not automatic that what is according to nature is also
good. Indeed, many things agree with nature but are so petty that the
label good is not appropriate to them; they are trivial, even contemptible.
There is no such thing as a miniscule and contemptible good, since as long
as it is small it is not good. When it starts to be good, it is not small. How
is the good recognized then? If it is completely according to nature.
+. You say, You admit that what is good is according to nature.
This is its characteristic feature. You admit that other things are certainly
according to nature but not good. So how can that be good when these are
not? How does it attain a different characteristic feature when both have
that one outstanding feature in common, being according to nature?
+. Because of the magnitude itself, of course. And this is nothing new.
Certain things change by growing. He was an infant and became an adult.
He has a different characteristic feature. For the infant lacked reason and
the adult is rational. Certain things dont just become bigger by growing;
they become different.
+j. He says, It doesnt become different because it becomes bigger.
Whether you ll a bottle or a barrel with wine makes no difference; in each
there exists the characteristic feature of wine. A small and a large amount
of honey both taste the same. The examples you adduce are not of the
same kind; for in those cases they do have the same quality; however much
they increase, it persists.
rr++ra ++8 yj
+. Certain things when made bigger do retain their own type and
characteristic feature. But certain things, after many increases, are nally
converted by the nal addition, which imposes on them a condition
different from the one they were in before. One stone makes an arch,
the one which wedges against the sloping sides and binds them by being
placed between them. Why does the nal addition, even if it is miniscule,
make such a big difference? Because it does not increase something but
lls it up.
+y. Certain things slough off their previous shape as they advance and
make the transition to a new shape. When the mind extends something
for a long time and has become worn out by tracking its magnitude,
then it starts to be called innite. It becomes very different from what
it was when it looked big, but nite. In the same way we got the idea
that something was difcult to cut; as this difculty grew, in the end the
uncuttable was discovered. This is how we progressed from what could
barely be moved with great effort to that which is unmovable. In the same
way something was according to nature; it was its own magnitude that
gave it a new characteristic feature and made it good.
Farewell.
LETTER ++
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. Whenever Ive found something, I dont wait for you to tell me
share it!; I say it to myself. What is it that Ive found, you ask? Open
your wallet: it is pure prot. Ill teach you how you can get rich very
quickly. You are really eager to hear this, and rightly soIm going to
take you on a short cut to enormous riches. Still, you will need a nancial
backer; to do business you need to take out a loan, but I dont want you
to borrow through an agent nor do I want the brokers to be tossing your
name around.
:. Ill give you a ready-made backer; in the famous phrase of Cato, bor-
rowfromyourself. No matter howsmall the loan, itll be enough if we seek
from ourselves whatever we lack. Lucilius, my friend, it makes no differ-
ence whether you feel no need of something or you have it already. In either
case the upshot is the same: you will not be in anguish. Nor do I instruct
you to deny something to natureshe is unyielding, she is unbeatable,
she demands her duebut rather I instruct you to be aware that whatever
goes beyond nature is at the whim of others and not necessary.
. I am hungry; I must eat. It makes no difference to nature whether this
bread is coarse or ne; she wants the stomach to be lled, not pleasured. I
am thirsty. It makes no difference to nature whether this water is some I
have drawn froma nearby cistern or water I have kept on snowto be chilled
with a coolness not its own. All she asks is that thirst be extinguished; it
makes no difference whether the cup is made of gold or crystal or agate or
whether it is a travertine goblet or a cupped hand.
. Look to the goal of all things and you will eliminate the superuous.
Hunger summons me; my hand reaches out for whatever is closest; hunger
itself will recommend whatever I take hold of. Someone who is hungry
despises nothing.
j. You ask, then, what it is which has caught my fancy? I think it a splen-
did maxim, that a wise person is the keenest pursuer of natural wealth.
You reply, You are presenting me with an empty platter. What is this? I
already had my account book ready and was considering what sea I might
sail to do business, what public contract I might take on, what merchandise
rr++ra ++ yy
I should be acquiring. It is deceit to preach poverty after promising pros-
perity. So do you think someone poor if he lacks nothing? You reply,
No, but that is due to himself and his endurance, not due to fortune. So
do you think that he isnt rich just because his riches can never cease?
. Would you rather have a great deal or enough? Someone who has a
great deal desires more and that is an indication that he does not yet have
enough; someone who has enough has acquired what no rich person has
attained, his goal. Or maybe you think that this isnt real wealth because
no one was proscribed for it? Because no one was poisoned by his son
or his wife on account of it? Because it is safe in wartime? Because it is
unused in peacetime? Because it is neither dangerous to possess it nor
burdensome to spend it?
y. But the person who merely avoids cold, hunger, and thirst just
has too little! Jupiter has no more. What is sufcient is never too little,
and what is not enough is never a great deal. Alexander is poor after
[conquering] Darius and the Indians. Am I wrong? He seeks something
to make his own, he scours unknown seas, sends new eets out into the
ocean and, as I might put it, bursts the very ramparts of the world.
8. What is enough for nature is not enough for a human being. Here
we have someone who would lust for something after he has everything.
Mental blindness is so profound and each person so thoroughly forgets
his own origins once he has made some progress. Having begun as the
master of an obscure patch of land (and not even its undisputed master),
he reaches the ends of the earth and is on the point of returning home
through a world he has made his own, but Alexander is grief-stricken.
. Money never made anyone rich. On the contrary, it has made
everyone long for yet more money. You ask what causes this? A person
whos got more starts to be able to get more. To sum up the point: you
can name anyone you like of those who are ranked alongside Crassus and
Licinus; let him state his wealth and add together all that he has and all
that he expects to get. If you accept my view, he is poor, but even on your
own view he can be poor.
+o. The person, however, who has set himself up in accordance with the
demands of nature is not just free of the feeling of poverty, he is free of the
fear of it. But to let you know how hard it is to conne ones possessions to
the limits of nature, this very person whom we are so constraining, whom
you call poor, he not only has something, he even has something to spare.
++. Riches blind people, though, and attract them if a great deal of
money is paraded out of some house, if all its ceilings are richly gilded,
if the house-slaves have been chosen for their physical attributes or are
y8 +a+sr++ros
dressed in splendid livery. The prosperity of all those people has an eye to
public display. The person whom we have insulated from the public and
from fortune is happy on the inside.
+:. For as far as concerns those for whom a frantic poverty has usurped
the name wealth: they have wealth in just the same way that we are
said to have a fever, when in fact the fever has us. We are accustomed to
put it the other way around: a fever grips him, and in the same way we
ought to say wealth grips him. The advice I would most like to leave you
with is the advice that no one hears enough: to measure all things by ones
natural desires, which can be satised for free or for very little. Just dont
mix vices with your desires.
+. You ask what sort of table your food is served on, on what sort of
silver plates, how uniform and elegant the servants who bring it? Nature
desires nothing beyond the food.
Surely you dont ask for a golden cup when your throat is burning with thirst.
Surely when you are starving you dont reject everything
except peacock and turbot.'
+. Hunger has no ambitions. It is content if it stops. It doesnt much
care what makes it stop. Those things are the torments inicted by
wretched luxury. Luxury looks for a way to be hungry even after it is
full, for a way not to ll the stomach but to stuff it, for a way to revive
the thirst which has been slaked by the rst drink. So Horace made an
excellent claim, that it doesnt matter to thirst what sort of cup the drink
is served in or by how sophisticated a hand. If you think it matters to you
how nicely curled the boys hair is and how translucent the cup he offers
to you is, then you arent really thirsty.
+j. Along with everything else, nature has given us this one most impor-
tant gift: she has purged necessity of any fussiness. What is superuous
leaves room for choice. This isnt stylish enough, thats not fancy enough,
that offends my eyes. The great builder of the cosmos, who set forth the
laws of living for us, has made it possible for us to attain well-being, not to
be pampered. Everything neededfor our well-being is ready andwaiting; to
be pampered, everything has to be acquired with wretched care and worry.
+. So let us take advantage of this gift of nature, which is t to be
numbered among her greatest blessings, and let us reect that she has
done us no better service than this: whatever one desires out of necessity
one accepts without fussiness.
Farewell.
' Horace, Satires +.:.+++.
LETTER +:o
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. Your letter rambled through many minor questions, but settled on
one and asks that it be dealt with: how we have acquired the concept of the
good and the honourable. These two are, in the view of others, different;
in our view they are merely distinct.
:. I will explain. Some think that the good is that which is useful.
Therefore they apply this term to wealth, to a horse, to wine, and to a
shoe. That is how cheap they think the good is and how utterly they think
it descends into vulgarity. They think that the honourable is that which
is characterized by a reasoning out of ones correct responsibility; e.g.,
the faithful care of ones father in old age, relief of a friends poverty,
courageous behaviour on campaign, the utterance of sensible and moderate
views [in the Senate].
. We contend that these are indeed two things, but that they are rooted
in one. Nothing is good except what is honourable; what is honourable
is certainly good. I think it unnecessary to add what distinguishes them,
since I have said it often. I will say just this one thing, that we believe that
nothing is <good> which someone can also use badly; however, you see
how many people make bad use of wealth, high birth, and strength.
So now I return to what you want me to discuss, how we have acquired
our initial concept of the good and the honourable.
. Nature could not have taught us this; she has given us the seeds of
knowledge but has not given us knowledge. Certain people say that we
just happened on the concept; but it is implausible that anyone should
have come upon the form of virtue by chance. We believe that it has been
inferred by the observation and comparison of actions done repeatedly.
Our school holds that the honourable and the good are understood
by analogy. (Since this term [analogia] has been naturalized by Latin
grammarians, I think it need not be condemned; rather, it should be
promoted to full citizenship. So I will use it not just as an acceptable word,
but as a common one.) Let me explain what this analogy is.
8o +a+sr++ros
j. We had a familiarity with bodily health; from this we realized that
there is also a certain health of the mind. We had a familiarity with bodily
strength; from this we inferred that there is also mental power. Certain
generous deeds, certain kindly deeds, certain brave deeds had amazed us;
we began to admire them as though they were perfect. There were hidden
in them many failings which were concealed by the form and splendour of
some outstanding deed; these failings we pretended not to notice. Nature
orders us to exaggerate what is praiseworthy, and there is no one who
hasnt elevated glory beyond the truth. Hence it is from these actions that
we have derived the form of some great good.
. Fabricius rejected the gold of King Pyrrhus and thought that being
able to depise royal riches was more important than a kingdom. When
Pyrrhus physician promised to administer poison to the king, Fabricius
warned Pyrrhus to beware the treachery. It was a mark of the same
character that he was not won over by gold and would not win by poison.
We admired the great man who was swayed neither by the promises of a
king nor by promises to harm the king, a man with a rm grip on sound
precedent and (something very hard to achieve) blameless during war, a
man who still thought that there was such a thing as an outrage committed
against an enemy, a man who in the midst of the poverty which his honour
had inicted on him avoided riches just as he avoided poison. He said,
Pyrrhus, live thanks to me, and rejoice at the fact which used to cause
you griefthat Fabricius cannot be corrupted.
y. Horatius Cocles stood alone blocking the narrow part of the bridge
and ordered that his line of retreat be cut off behind his back, provided that
the enemy be deprived of their route; he stood against his attackers until
the timbers were torn apart and thundered massively as they collapsed. He
looked behind himself and saw that his own danger had put his country
out of danger and then he said, Come on, if any of you wants to pursue
me on this escape route! Then he threw himself headlong into the river;
in the raging current of the river he was just as concerned to get out with
his armour as he was to get out safe, and with the honour of his victorious
armour intact he got back to his camp as safely as if he had crossed the
bridge.
8. These deeds and ones like them have shown us the likeness of virtue.
I shall add a point which might perhaps seem remarkable: that sometimes
bad deeds have presented us with the appearance of the honourable, and
that what is best has shone forth from its opposite. As you know, there
are vices which are similar to virtues and a resemblance between what
is right and what is corrupt and shameful. Thus a spendthrift falsely
rr++ra +:o 8+
resembles a generous person, though there is an enormous difference
between knowing how to give and not knowing how to save. Lucilius, I
say, there are many people who do not give money but toss it around; I
dont call a person who is angry at his own money generous. Carelessness
imitates easy-goingness, recklessness imitates bravery.
. This resemblance forced us to pay attention and to distinguish
things which are similar, in appearance at any rate, but which in fact
differ enormously from each other. While watching those whom some
outstanding act made famous we began to notice who did some action
with a noble spirit and great elan, but only once. Here we saw a man
brave in war but fearful in political life, taking poverty with courage and
disgrace with humility. We praised what he did but held the man himself
in contempt.
+o. We saw another man who was kind to his friends and self-controlled
towards his enemies, managing public and private affairs with piety and
faithfulness; he did not lack endurance in situations which called for
putting up with things, nor good sense in situations which called for
action. We saw him providing generously where giving was called for and
where struggle was called for we saw him determined, striving, and
supporting his weary body with his courageous mind. Moreover, he was
always the same and consistent with himself in every act; not good by
design, but so thoroughly habituated that he not only could act rightly but
could not act other than rightly.
++. We understood that in him virtue was complete. We divided it into
parts: it was appropriate to curb desires, suppress fears, show good sense
in action, distribute what ought to be allotted; we grasped self-control,
bravery, good sense, and justice, and assigned to each its own sphere.
On the basis of what, then, did we come to understand virtue? It was
shown to us by this mans orderliness and ttingness and consistency, the
mutual agreement of all his actions and the greatness which rises above
everything. This is the source of our understanding of the happy life,
which ows smoothly and is completely autonomous.
+:. How, then, did this very thing become clear to us? I will tell you.
That man, the one who is complete and has attained to virtue, never
cursed fortune, was never gloomy in his acceptance of what happened;
believing that he is a citizen and soldier of the cosmos, he took on difcult
tasks as though commanded to do so. He did not reject what happened to
him as though it were something bad which fell to his lot by chance, but
[accepted it] as though it had been assigned to him. He said, No matter
8: +a+sr++ros
what this is like, it is mine; it is harsh, it is tough, but lets get to work on
it.
+. And so someone who never moaned over his misfortune and never
complained about his fate necessarily appeared to be great. He provided
an understanding of himself to many people and shone forth like a light
in the darkness, turning the minds of all to himself, since he was calm and
gentle, equally at ease with divine and human things.
+. He had a mind which was complete and brought to its own best
conditionthere is nothing higher than this except the mind of god, from
which some part has owed down even into this mortal breast, which is
never more divine than when it reects on its own mortality and knows
that human beings were born in order to live and be done with life, that
the body is not a home but a guest-houseand a short-stay guest-house
at that, which you must leave when you notice that you are a bother to
your host.
+j. Lucilius my friend, the most powerful indication that a mind comes
from some loftier place is if it judges the things it deals with to be base and
narrow, if it is not afraid to take its leave. For the mind which remembers
where it came from knows where it is going to go. Dont we see how many
troubles plague us and how badly this body suits us?
+. We complain about headache sometimes, stomach ache other times,
and again about chest troubles or a sore throat. Now our muscles trouble
us, now our feet, then diarrhoea, then a runny nose. Sometimes our blood
is too thick, sometimes too thin. We are besieged from all sides and then
driven out. This is normally the experience only of those living in a foreign
environment.
+y. But even though we are stuck with such a crumbling body we
nevertheless aim at the eternal and with our ambition we seize the full
extent of what the length of a human life can accommodate, not content
with money or power in any amount. What could be more outrageous or
more stupid than this? Nothing satises those who are about to die, indeed
who are dying already. Every day we stand closer to the end and each day
pushes us towards the place from which we must fall.
+8. See what blindness aficts our minds! What I refer to as future
occurs at this very moment and most of it is already in the past. For the
time that we have lived is in the same place as it was before we lived. So we
are wrong to fear our nal day, since each and every day contributes just
as much to our death. The step during which we collapse is not the one
which makes us tired; it just announces our fatigue. The nal day reaches
death; each day approaches it. Death plucks at us; it does not grab us all at
rr++ra +:o 8
once. So a great mind, one aware of its better nature, certainly takes care
to comport itself honourably and industriously in the post to which it is
stationed, but it does not judge that any of its surroundings are its own. A
traveller hurrying by, it uses them as though they are on loan.
+. Whenwe see someone withthis degree of consistency, why shouldnt
we get the impression of an exceptional talent? especially, as I said, if this
greatness is shown to be genuine by its uniformity. Continuity is a stable
companion of what is genuine; what is not genuine does not last. Some
people take turns being Vatinius and Cato: one moment Curius isnt strict
enough for them, Fabricius not poor enough, Tubero not parsimonious
enough, not sufciently satised with simple things; the next minute they
rival Licinus for his wealth, Apicius for his dinner parties, and Maecenas
for his luxuries.
:o. The clearest proof of a bad character is restlessness and constantly
bouncing back and forth between pretending at virtue and loving vice.
Often he had two hundred slaves
but often he had only ten; sometimes he spoke of kings and tetrarchs,
and all manner of greatness, but sometimes he said All I want
is a small table, a pinch of plain salt, and a cloak, no matter how coarse,
to ward off the cold. If you had given this parsimonious man,
content with little, the sum of +,ooo,ooo sesterces, in ve days
hed have had nothing.'
:+. Many people are like the one Horace describes here, never the same
as himself, not even similar; thats how far off course he goes. Many, did
I say? Virtually everybody. There isnt anybody who doesnt change his
advice and his wishes every day. First he wants a wife, then a mistress;
rst he wants to be king; then he behaves in such a way that no slave could
be more fawning; rst he puffs himself up in order to attract envy, and
then backs down and sinks below the level of the genuinely humble; at
one moment he scatters money around, and the next minute he steals it.
::. This is the most powerful proof that a mind is unwise. It goes
around as one person after another and is inconsistent with itself, and I
think nothing is more shameful than that. Consider it a great thing to play
the role of one person. But except for the wise person, no one plays a single
role; the rest of us are multiple. At one point we will seem prudent and
serious to you, at another nancially reckless and frivolous. We change
roles frequently and put on a mask opposite to the one we just removed.
So demand this of yourself. You undertook to present yourself in a certain
' Horace, Satires +..+++y.
8 +a+sr++ros
way; keep yourself in that condition right through to the end. Make it
possible that you can be praised, or at least that you can be identied. It
could fairly be said of the person you saw yesterday, Who is he? That is
how much he has changed.
Farewell.
LETTER +:+
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. I can see that you will haul me into court when I set out for you
todays little question, one that has engaged us for quite a while now.
Once again you will shout, What does this have to do with ethics? Shout
away, then, while I, rst of all, give you other opponents to prosecute,
Posidonius and Archedemus (theyll accept the courts jurisdiction), and
then say to you, It is not the case that everything which is ethical makes
our character ethically good.
:. Some things bear on human nutrition, some on exercise, some on
clothing, some on teaching, some on pleasure. But they all bear on human
beings even if not all of them make humans better. Different things have
different impacts on our character. Some things improve our character
and make it orderly, while others investigate the nature and origin of our
characters.
. When <I ask>why nature made humans, why she made us superior
to the rest of the animals, do you think I have left character far behind?
Not so. For how will you know what character you should have unless you
nd out what is best for a human being, unless you look into its nature.
You wont really understand what you should do and what you should
avoid until you have learned what you owe to your own nature.
. You reply, I want to learn how to reduce my desires and to reduce
my fears. Rid me of superstition; teach me that what is called happiness is
frivolous and empty, that it can very easily have one syllable prexed to
it [viz. un-]. I will satisfy your desire; I will both encourage the virtues
and beat down the vices. Though someone might judge me excessive
and immoderate in this area, I will not give up attacking wickedness,
restraining the wild passions, reining in pleasures which are bound to end
in pain, and railing against wishes and prayers. Why not? We have wished
for the greatest evils and the source of all that demands consolation is what
we give thanks to the gods for.
j. Meanwhile, allow me to scrutinize some matters which seem a little
more removed from our concerns. We were investigating whether all
8 +a+sr++ros
animals have an awareness of their own constitution. The main reason
why it seems that they do have such an awareness is that they move their
limbs easily and effectively just as if they had been trained for doing so.
Each of them is nimble with regard to its own parts. An artisan handles his
tools with ease, the helmsman of a ship directs the rudder with skill, the
painter arranges many different pigments to help him make a likeness and
applies them with great rapidity, cheerfully and efciently moving back
and forth between the palette and his canvas. An animal is comparably
agile in all the ways it makes use of itself.
. We are regularly amazed at skilled dancers because their hands are
able to represent all kinds of subjects and emotions and because their
gestures are as quick as the words. What technique provides for them,
nature provides for animals. No one has trouble moving its limbs; no one
hesitates in making use of its parts. And they do so just as soon as they are
born. They arrive with this knowledge. They are born fully trained.
y. The reason, he replies, that animals move their parts appropriately
is because if they moved them otherwise they would feel pain. So, as you
yourselves say, they are compelled and it is fear rather than their wish
which puts them on the right path. But that is false. For things which are
driven by necessity move slowly and what moves on its own has a certain
nimbleness. Anyway, animals are so far frombeing driven to this action by
painthat they strive for their natural motionevenwhenpainimpedes them.
8. Thus a baby who practices standing and getting used to moving
around falls as soon as it begins to tax its strength. Over and over again it
cries as it gets up again until despite the pain it works its way through to
what nature asks of it. When certain animals which have a hard shell get
turned upside down they twist themselves around and wave their legs and
wrench them until they are again in an upright position. An upside-down
turtle feels no pain, yet it is disturbed by a desire for its natural position
and will not give up struggling and ailing itself until it gets onto its feet.
. Therefore all animals have an awareness of their own constitution
and that is the reason why they are so ready at managing their limbs;
we have no better evidence that they come into life equipped with this
knowledge than the fact that no animal is clumsy at using itself.
+o. He objects, According to you, the constitution is the leading part
of the soul in a certain disposition relative to the body. How can a baby
comprehend this, which is so complicated and sophisticated that even you
can scarcely explain it? All animals would have to be born dialecticians
to understand that denitionwhich the majority of adult Romans nd
obscure.
rr++ra +:+ 8y
++. Your objection would be sound if I were saying that all animals
understand the denition of their constitution rather than the constitution
itself. Nature is more easily understood than explained. And so that baby
does not know what a constitution is yet knows its constitution; and it
does not know what an animal is yet is aware of being an animal.
+:. Moreover, it does have a crude, schematic, and vague understanding
of the constitution itself. We too know that we have a mind. But we do
not know what the mind is, where it is, what it is like or where it comes
from. Although we do not know its nature and its location, our awareness
of our mind stands in the same relation to us as the awareness of their own
constitution stands to all animals. For they must be aware of that through
which they are aware of other things. They must be aware of that which
they obey and by which they are governed.
+. Every one of us understands that there is something which sets in
motion his own impulses, but does not know what this is. And he knows
that he has a tendency to strive, though he does not know what it is or
where it comes from. In this way too babies and animals have an awareness
of their own leading part, though it is not adequately clear and distinct.
+. He objects, You say that every animal has a primary attachment
to its own constitution, but that a human beings constitution is rational
and so that a human being is attached to himself not qua animal but qua
rational. For a human is dear to himself with respect to that aspect of
himself which makes him human. So how can a baby be attached to a
rational constitution when it is not yet rational?
+j. There is a constitution for every stage of life, one for a baby, another
for a boy, <another for a teenager>, another for an old man. Everyone is
attached to the constitution he is in. A baby has no teethit is attached
to this constitution, which is its own. Teeth emergeit is attached to this
constitution. For even the plant which will one day grow and ripen into
grain has one constitution when it is a tender shoot just barely emerging
fromthe furrow, another when it has gotten stronger and has a stemwhich
though tender is able to carry its own weight, and yet another when it
is ripening, getting ready for harvest and has a rm head: but whatever
constitution it has reached, it protects it and settles into it.
+. A baby, a boy, a teenager, an old man: these are different stages of
life. Yet I am the same human as was also a baby and a boy and a teenager.
Thus, although everyone has one different constitution after another, the
attachment to ones own constitution is the same. For nature does not
commend me to the boy or the youth or the old man, but to myself.
Therefore the baby is attached to that constitution which is its own and
88 +a+sr++ros
which the baby then has, not to that constitution which the youth will
one day have. For though there remains something greater to grow into,
it does not follow that the condition it is born into is not natural.
+y. An animal has a primary attachment to itself; for there must be
something to which other things can be referred. I seek pleasure. For
whom? For myself. Therefore I am taking care of myself. I avoid pain.
For whom? For myself. Therefore I am taking care of myself. If I do
everything because I am taking care of myself, then care of myself is prior
to everything. This care is a feature of all other animals; it is not grafted
onto them but born in them.
+8. Nature brings forth her offspring, she does not toss them aside.
And because the most reliable form of protection comes from what is
closest, each one is entrusted to itself. And so, as I said in earlier letters,
young animals, even those just born from their mother or freshly hatched,
immediately recognize what is threatening to them and avoid deadly
dangers. Animals which are vulnerable to raptors tremble at the shadows
of birds which y overhead. No animal comes into life without a fear of
death.
+. He objects, How can a newborn animal have an understanding of
things which protect it or threaten death? First, the question at issue is
whether it understands, not how it understands. And that they actually do
have this understanding is obvious from the fact that they would not do
anything more if they did understand. Why is it that a hen does not ee
from a peacock or a goose, but does ee from a hawk, though it is so much
smaller and not even familiar to them? Why do chicks fear a cat but not
a dog? It is obvious that there is within them a knowledge of what will
cause harm which has not been derived from experience, for they display
caution before they get the experience.
:o. Next, so that you dont conclude that this happens by chance, they
do not in fact fear anything other than what they should nor do they ever
forget this form of responsible guardianship. Flight from danger is their
lifelong companion. Further, they dont become more fearful as they live,
which makes it obvious that they dont acquire this trait by experience but
by a natural love of their own safety. What experience teaches is both slow
and varied; what nature gives is uniform for all and immediate.
:+. If, however, you demand it of me, I will tell you how it is that
every animal is compelled to understand what is dangerous. It is aware
that it is constituted of esh, and so it is aware what can cut esh, what
can burn it, what can crush it, which animals are equipped to do it harm;
it regards their appearance as hostile and threatening. These things are
rr++ra +:+ 8
interconnected; for as soon as each animal is attached to its own safety it
also pursues what will help it and fears what will harm it. Its impulses
towards what is useful are natural, as are its avoidances of the opposite.
Whatever nature taught occurs without any thinking to prescribe it and
without any deliberation.
::. Do you not see how technically sophisticated bees are at making
their hives, how harmoniously they share the labour of the whole task?
Dont you see how far beyond any human rivalry the spiders web is,
how much work is involved in organizing the threads, some positioned in
straight lines as stabilizers, others arranged in circles which become less
closely spaced as one goes further from the centre, all in order to catch
smaller animals (the intended victims of the web) as though in a net?
:. That skill is born, not learned. And so no animal is more learn` ed
than any other. You will notice that all spiders webs are the same, that
the cells of honeycombs are the same in every corner. What art teaches
is variable and inconsistent. What nature hands out is uniform. She has
given out nothing more than protection of oneself and skill at that, and
that is why they also start life and learning simultaneously.
:. And it isnt surprising that the things without which an animals
birth would be pointless are born along with the animal. Nature has
bestowed on animals this primary tool for survival, attachment to and
love for oneself. They could not have been kept safe unless they wanted
to benot that this alone would have done them any good, but rather
without it nothing else would have done them any good either. You wont
nd contempt for itself in any animal, <nor> even neglect of itself. Even
mute and stupid beasts, sluggish in every other respect, are skilled at
staying alive. You will notice that those which are useless to others do not
let themselves down.
Farewell.
LETTER +::
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. Already the day is getting shorter. It has diminished a bit, but even so
there is still a generous amount left if one arises with the day, so to speak.
But you are more responsible and even better if you get ahead of the day
and catch the rst light. The person who lies in bed half asleep while the
sun is high and whose day doesnt start till noon is shameful. And still this
counts as pre-dawn for many people.
:. Some people have reversed the functions of day and night and dont
pry open their eyes, heavy with yesterdays hangover, before night begins
to fall. The situation of those whom nature, as Vergil says, located beneath
our feet on the other side of the world:
when rst the rising sun breathes on us with his gasping horses
for them rosy sundown kindles his lagging lights'
that is what life (rather than their location) is like for these people; they
are opposite to everyone else.
. There are some antipodeans, [living] in the same city [as we do],
who, as Marcus Cato said, have never seen the sun either rising or setting.
Do you suppose that those people know how one ought to live, when they
dont even know when? And do these people fear death, when they have
buried themselves alive in it? They are as ill-omened as night birds. Let
them pass their dark periods amidst wine and perfume, let them drag
out this whole period of perverted wakefulness with feastseven feasts
cooked separately in several courseseven so they arent banqueting,
they are conducting their funeral rites. The Feast of the Dead, at least, is
held in the daytime.
But, my Lord, no day is long when one is doing something. Let us
lengthen our lifeaction is both our responsibility in life and an indication
that we are alive. Lets put a limit to night and shift part of it into the
daytime.
. Birds which are being readied for the feast are caged in darkness so
that they can easily fatten up when they arent moving. In the same way
' Vergil, Georgics +.:jo+.
rr++ra +:: +
the lazy bodies of those who lie about without any exercise puff up a
slothful stufng sets in. But the bodies of people who dedicate themselves
to darkness appear revolting. Their skin colour is more disturbing than
that of pasty invalids. They are pale, lazy, and feeble. Their esh is
cadaverous although they are still among the living. But this, I would say,
is the least of their failings. There is far more darkness in their minds!
One of them is stunned, anothers eyes go dark and he envies the blind.
Who has ever had eyes for the sake of darkness?
j. Do you ask about the cause of this mental depravity, avoiding day
and shifting ones whole life into the night? All vices rebel against nature;
all of them abandon the proper order of things. This is the purpose that
luxury aims at, to rejoice in what is twisted and not just to deviate from
what is straight but to get as far away fromit as possible, and stand directly
opposed to it.
. Dont you think that people are living contrary to nature if they
drink on an empty stomach, take wine when they are hungry and then
move on to eating when they are drunk? And yet this is a common failing
of young peoplethey build up their strength <so that> they can do
their drinking amidst the naked bathers pretty much on the threshold
of the bathhouseworse, so that they can steep themselves and then
immediately clean off the sweat stimulated by their constant and feverish
drinking. Drinking after lunch or dinner is just banal that is what old
farmers do, people who just dont understand real pleasure. Straight wine
is enjoyed when it isnt awash in food, when it can get straight to the brain.
Drunkenness is really fun when it occupies a vacuum.
y. Dont you think that men who wear womens clothes are living
contrary to nature? Arent men living contrary to nature when they aim to
gleam with youthful good looks when they are well past it? What could be
more cruel or more wretched? Will he never be taken for a man, though
he can be taken by a man for a good long time? And when his sex ought to
have exempted him from abuse, will not even his age liberate him from it?
8. Dont people who long for roses in winter live contrary to nature,
and those who force lilies in mid-winter with baths of warm water and
careful changes of location? Dont people who plant apple trees at the
top of towers live contrary to nature, people whose groves wave in the
wind up on the rooftops, with roots planted where it would have been
presumptuous for treetops to have reached? Do they not live contrary to
nature when they build foundations for baths in the sea and when they
dont think they can have a sophisticated swim unless their warm pools
are rocked by wind and waves?
: +a+sr++ros
. When they have made up their minds to want everything contrary to
natures custom, at last they totally defect from nature. It is daytime
for sleep! It is night-timelets get some exercise, lets go for a drive, lets
have lunch. Its nearly daylighttime for dinner. It wont do to do what
ordinary people doliving in a hackneyed and vulgar style is revolting.
Daytime can be for ordinary peoplelets do something unique and
special today.
+o. In my view, those people are as good as dead. How far are they,
really, from their own genuinely untimely funeralsafter all, they live by
torchlight and candlelight! I recall that many people lived this lifestyle all
at the same time, among them Acilius Buta, the praetorian; he is the one
to whom Tiberius said, after he had squandered his enormous inheritance
and was pleading poverty, You have woken up a bit late.
++. Julius Montanus was giving a poetic recitation, an acceptable poet
and one known both for his friendship with Tiberius and for the chill in
their relationship. He used to ll his poems with sunrises and sunsets;
so, when some people complained that his recitations lasted all day and
said that one should not attend them, Pinarius Natta said Surely I
cannot be more generousI am ready to listen to him from sunrise to
sunset.
+:. When Montanus had recited these verses:
Phoebus begins to send forth his burning ames,
Rosy day begins to spread, and already the sad swallow
Returning to her nest begins to feed her shrill nestlings
And shares it out with gentle beak
Then Varus, a Roman knight, a friend of Marcus Vinicius, and a
devotee of high-class feasts (a privilege earned by his cutting wit) shouted
out Buta is ready for sleep!
+. Then, when Montanus had later recited:
Already the shepherds had bedded down their ocks in the fold
Already slow night begins to grant quiet to the sleepy lands
the same Varus said What are you saying? Is it night already? I must go
to make my daily visit to Buta! Nothing was more famous than this mans
inverted lifestyleone which, as I said, many people lived at that same
time.
+. Now the reason why some people live this way is not that they think
that night itself has something particularly pleasant about it, but that they
arent satised by anything ordinary; and that daylight is burdensome to
rr++ra +::
a guilty conscience; and that daylight, because it costs nothing, is a bore
for someone who desires or despises everything depending on how much
or how little it costs. Moreover, extravagant people want their life to be
talked about as long as they live. For if they arent talked about they think
they are wasting their effort. And so from time to time they do something
to stir up rumour. Many gobble up their fortunes, many keep mistresses.
To earn a reputation among people like that you need not just something
extravagant but something notorious. In a city preoccupied with this sort
of thing, run-of-the-mill bad behaviour does not get you a scandal.
+j. I had once heard Albinovanus Pedo (and he really was a very
sophisticated storyteller) relate that he used to live above the house of
Sextus Papiniushe was one of these daylight avoiders. He said At the
third hour of the night I hear the sound of whips, so I ask what he is doing.
The answer is that he is reviewing the household accounts. At the sixth
hour of the night I hear an excited uproar, so I ask what is going on. The
answer is that he is doing his voice exercises. At the eighth hour of the
night I ask what the noise of wheels is supposed to mean. The answer is
that he is going for a drive.
+. At dawn there is a lot of scurrying about, slaves are summoned,
the storekeepers and cooks are in an uproar. I ask what is going on. The
answer is that he has asked for a sweet drink and some porridge, since
he has just nished his bath. The comment was made, his feast took up
more than a day! Not at all. For he lived very frugally and consumed
nothing except the night. And so when some people said that Sextus was
a stingy miser, Pedo rejoined You would even say that he lives on lamp
oil.
+y. You should not be surprised if you nd so many distinct kinds of
vice. They are quite varied and have many manifestations; one cannot
grasp all their types. Concern for what is straight is a simple matter;
concern for what is crooked is complex and admits of as many new
deviations as you could want. The same thing applies to character. The
character of those who follow nature is easy and unrestricted, with few
variations. The perverted are in great conict with everyone else and with
themselves.
+8. But I think that the chief cause of this disorder is a fussiness
about the ordinary lifestyle. Just as they mark themselves off from other
people by their dress, by the sophistication of their dinner parties, by the
splendour of their vehicles, they also want to be marked off by the way
they use their time. People who regard notoriety as the reward for going
astray do not want to commit ordinary mistakes.
+a+sr++ros
+. All those who live backwards, if I can put it that way, are looking for
notoriety. And so, Lucilius, we must cling to the life which nature has laid
down for us and not deviate from it. If we follow nature everything is easy
and unimpeded, but if we struggle against it then our life is no different
than that of men who are trying to row against the current.
Farewell.
This is an allusion to Vergil, Georgics +.+:o:. Compare at 1zz.z above. My thanks
to James Ker for pointing this out.
LETTER +:
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+. I have arrived late at night at my Alban estate, worn out by a journey
that was uncomfortable rather than lengthy. I nd nothing prepared
except myself. And so I repose my weariness on a small couch and am in
fact content with the fact that the cook and the baker are delayed. For I
can discuss with myself this very matter: that what you take lightly is not
burdensome, that nothing is worth being upset about, <as long as you
dont> make it worse by getting upset all on your own.
:. My baker has no bread; but my house-manager does, and so do my
steward and the tenant-farmer. You say, But its poor-quality bread. Just
waitit will turn into good bread. Hunger will make even this into soft,
white bread. That just shows that one should not eat until hunger says to
do so. Therefore I will wait and wont eat until I either start to have some
good bread or cease to be fussy about the bad bread.
. It is essential to get used to modest food; even people who are wealthy
and well equipped meet with many difculties due to the circumstances
of time and place No one can have whatever he wants, but one can have
this: not to want what one does not have and to make cheerful use of what
is on offer. A well-behaved stomach which is tolerant of insult makes a
major contribution to freedom.
. You could not imagine how much pleasure I derive from the fact
that my weariness is content with itself. I dont go looking for masseurs, a
bath, or any other remedy but time. For rest relieves what hard work has
accumulated. The meal before me, such as it is, is more satisfying than an
inaugural banquet.
j. You see, I have undertaken a kind of impromptu trial of my mind;
this kind of test is more candid and revealing. For when the mind has
prepared itself and commanded itself to endure, then it is not so obvious
how much real rmness it has. The most reliable proofs are those which
the mind gives without warning, if it contemplates troubles not just with
equanimity but with contentment; if it does not are up in anger, does not
quarrel; if it makes up for the lack of something which it ought to have
+a+sr++ros
been given by not wanting it and if it reects that although there might
be something missing from what it is accustomed to, the mind itself lacks
nothing.
. With many things we dont realize how superuous they are until we
begin to lack them. We made use of them not because we were supposed
to have them but because we did have them. And how many things do
we acquire just because others have done so, because most people have
them! One cause for our troubles is that we live by the example of others;
we do not settle ourselves by reason but get swept away by custom. If
just a few people did something we would not want to imitate it, but
when many people start to do it then we pursue itas though it were
more honourable because it is more common. Once a mistake becomes
widespread we treat it as being right.
y. Nowadays everyone travels with a guard of Numidian horsemen or a
phalanx of runners ahead of them; it is shameful to have no one to shove
passers-by out of the way and to indicate by big clouds of dust that a
high-ranking man is approaching. Nowadays everyone has mules to carry
their glassware, their agate, and their collection of vessels engraved by
famous artists; it is shameful for people to see that the only baggage you
have is what can be knocked around with impunity. Everybodys retinue
rides along with faces covered in creams so that the sun and the cold
dont harm their tender skins; it is shameful that among the boys who
accompany you there should be not one whose healthy face is free of
cosmetic ointments.
8. You must avoid conversation with all these people. These are people
who pass on their vices and transfer them from one place to another. We
used to think that the worst people were those who bandy words, but
there are some now who bandy vices. Their conversation does a lot of
harm, for even if it has no immediate effect it leaves seeds in our mind and
pursues us even when we have left them behind, a bad inuence which
will re-awaken later on.
. Just as those who have heard a concert carry away with them in their
ears that tone and the pleasure of the songswhich hinders their thoughts
and wont let them focus on serious mattersso too the conversation of
atterers and those who praise their vices lingers long after the talking has
stopped. Nor is it a simple matter to drive the pleasant sound from ones
mind; it presses on, it endures, and it comes back after a break. So one
must close ones ears against harmful voices, especially at rst. For once
they have started and been allowed in they become bolder.
rr++ra +: y
+o. This is how one arrives at this kind of speech: Virtue, philosophy,
and justice are just the babble of empty words. The only happiness is doing
well by your life. Eating, drinking, spending ones inheritancethis is
living, this is what it means to remember that you are mortal. The days
pass by and life which cannot be reclaimed slips away. Are we hesitating?
What good does it do to be wise and to heap frugality onto a lifespan
which will not always be able to absorb pleasures[do so] now, anyway,
while it can, while it must. Get ahead of death and for yourself whatever
death will take away. You dont have a mistress, nor a boy who can make
your mistress jealous.You go around sober each and every day. You dine
as though you had to have your account-book approved by your father.
This isnt living; its helping out with someone elses life.
++. It is madness to take care of your heirs estate and deny yourself
everything, so that your huge inheritance might turn your friend into your
enemy; for the more he inherits, the more he will rejoice at your death.
Dont give a damn for those grim and censorious critics of other peoples
lives who hate their own and act like public school-marms. Dont hesitate
to put a good life ahead of good reputation.
+:. You must ee from these voices as from those which Ulysses
did not dare to sail by unless lashed to the mast. They have the same
powerthey draw you away from your country, from your parents, from
your friends, fromthe virtues, and entice you into a life which is shameful,
and if shameful then wretched. How much better it is to pursue the right
path and to bring yourself to the point where only what is honourable is
satisfying to you.
+. We will be able to accomplish this if we are aware that there are two
kinds of things which can either entice us or repel us. The enticements
come from wealth, pleasure, beauty, ambition, and everything else which
is attractive and appealing. The repulsions come from effort, death, pain,
public shame, and a restricted lifestyle. Hence we ought to train ourselves
not to fear the latter and not to desire the former. Let us work against our
inclinations, withdraw from what is attractive and rouse ourselves against
what assails us.
+. Do you not see the difference in posture of those going downhill
and those going uphill? Those who descend lean their bodies back; those
who are climbing lean forward. For if you are going downhill, Lucilius,
then throwing your weight forward is going along with vice, and if you are
going uphill then leaning back is doing the same. It is downhill towards
pleasure, but one must go uphill towards what is harsh and tough. When
8 +a+sr++ros
climbing we must drive our bodies onwards, when descending we must
hold them back.
+j. Do you now think that I am saying that the only people who are
dangerous to hear are those who praise pleasure and stimulate the fear of
painwhich is daunting enough on its own? I also think that we can be
harmed by those who, in the guise of the Stoic school, urge us on to vices.
For they claim that only the wise and learned man is a lover. He alone
is suited for this art. Similarly, the wise man is most skilled at drinking
and banqueting. So let us explore the question, up to what age youths are
proper objects of love.
+. These are concessions to Greek custom, and we would do better to
pay attention to the following: No one is good by accident; virtue must
be learned. Pleasure is a lowly and weak thing, worthless, shared with
brute beasts; the most paltry and contemptible animals ock to it. Glory
is something empty and unstable, more ckle than the wind. Poverty is
only bad for you if you resist it. Death is not evil do you ask what <it
is>? Death alone is the even-handed law which governs the human race.
Superstition is an insane mistake; it fears those it should love and offends
those it reveres. For what difference does it make whether you deny that
the gods exist or slander them?
+y. This is what you must learnno, learn by heart. Philosophy should
not provide excuses for vice. The sick man has no prospect of health if his
doctor exhorts him to dissipation.
Farewell.
LETTER +:
Seneca to Lucilius, greetings:
+.
I can recount for you many precepts from earlier generations
If you dont recoil and it isnt repellent to learn such trivial matters.'
But you do not recoil and no amount of technicality drives you away. Your
technical sophistication does not limit you to pursuing the big questions;
similarly, I approve of the fact that you judge everything by whether it
makes any contribution to moral progress and only get annoyed when the
extremes of technicality accomplish nothing. I will try to make sure that
doesnt happen even now.
The question is whether the good is grasped by sense perception or by
reasoning. Connected with this is the fact that the good is not present in
dumb animals and in infants.
:. All those who treat pleasure as the most important thing take the view
that the good is perceptible; but we, who locate what is most important
in the mind, think it is intelligible. If the senses passed judgement on the
good then we would never reject a pleasure, for every pleasure entices
us and all of them please us. And conversely we would never willingly
undergo any pain, for every pain hurts our senses.
. Moreover, people who get excessive satisfaction from pleasure and
those whose fear of pain is extreme would not deserve our condemnation.
But in fact we do disapprove of those who are enslaved to gluttony and
lust and we hold in contempt those whose fear of pain prevents them from
ever undertaking a manly endeavour. Yet what is their offence if they are
just listening to their senses, that is, to the judges of what is good and bad?
For you have surrendered to the senses the power to decide about what to
pursue and what to avoid.
. But of course it is reason which is in charge of that business. Just as
reason decides about the happy life and about virtue and about what is
honourable, so too reason decides about what is good and what is bad. For
on their view jurisdiction over the better part is granted to the part that
' Vergil, Georgics +.+yy.
+oo +a+sr++ros
is least worthy: sense perception, a dull and blunt sort of thing, and even
more sluggish in humans than in the other animals, passes judgement on
the good.
j. What if someone wanted to distinguish among very small objects not
with his eyes but with the touch. For this task no discrimination is keener
and more focussed than that of the eyes, to distinguish good and bad.
You see that someone whose sense of touch makes the judgements about
what is good and bad in the most important area of life is wallowing in the
depths of ignorance about the truth and has tossed to the ground what is
lofty and divine.
. He replies, Just as every science and art ought to have something
self-evident and grasped by the senses from which it may arise and grow,
so the happy life derives its foundation and starting point from what
is self-evident and subject to sense-perception. Surely you say that the
happy life takes its starting point from what is self-evident.
y. We say that what is according to nature is happy, and that it is obvious
and immediately apparent what is in fact according to nature, just as it is
evident what is unimpaired. I do not claimthat what is natural and is imme-
diately present to a newborn is good, but rather the starting point for the
good. You grant to infancy the highest good, pleasure, and the result is that
the newborn starts out in the situation which the fully developed human
being eventually attains; you put the treetop down where the roots belong.
8. If someone were to say that the foetus lurking in its mothers womb
with its sex still undened, soft, incomplete, and unformed, was already
in possession of something good, then he would be blatantly in error. But
there is an awfully small difference between the one who is just receiving
the gift of life and the one who is lurking like a lump in its mothers
innards. As far as understanding what is good and bad is concerned, both
are equally mature, and an infant is no more capable of the good than is a
tree or some speechless animal. But why is the good not present in a tree
and in a speechless animal? Because reason is not there either. This is why
it is also not present in the infant, since it too lacks reason. It gets to the
good when it gets to reason.
. Some animals are non-rational; some are not yet rational; some are
rational but still incomplete. The good is in none of these; reason brings
the good along with itself. So what is the difference between the things I
have listed? The good will never be in an animal which is non-rational;
the good cannot now exist in an animal which is not yet rational; the good
can now exist in an animal which is rational but still incomplete, but it is
not actually present.
rr++ra +: +o+
+o. This is my point, Lucilius. The good is not to be found in just any
body nor in just any age, and it is as far removed from infancy as the last is
from the rst, as what is complete is from its starting point. Therefore it
is not present in a body which is soft and just starting to become unied.
Of course it is not present, any more than it is present in the seed.
++. You might put it this way. We are familiar with a kind of good for
a tree and for a plant. But it is not present in the seedling at the moment
when it rst breaks through the soil. There is a kind of good for wheat.
But it is not yet present in the young green shoot nor when the tender
head of grain rst pokes out from the husk, but when the summer sun
and the appropriate passage of time have brought the grain to ripeness.
Every nature only produces its own good when it is fully developed, and
so likewise the good of a human being is not present in a human being
except when his reason has been completed.
+:. But what is this good? I will tell you: an independent mind, upright,
subordinating other things to itself and itself to nothing. Infancy is so far
from having this kind of good that even childhood cannot aspire to it, and
adolescence can only aspire to it with impudence; things are going well in
old age if it is achieved after prolonged and focussed attention. If this is
good, then it is intelligible too.
+. He says, You said that there was a kind of good for a tree, a kind
of good for a plant; so there can be a kind of good for an infant too. The
genuine good is not present in trees, nor in dumb animals. What is good
in them is called good by courtesy. You say, What is it? That which is
in accordance with the nature of each thing. Certainly the good cannot in
any way occur in a dumb animal; it belongs to a better and more fortunate
nature. There is no good except where there is room for reason.
+. Here are four natures: tree, animal, human, god. The latter two,
which are rational, have the same nature, different only in that the one
is immortal and the other is mortal. So of these two, nature completes
the good of one (god, that is), and effort that of the other (human). The
others, the ones which lack reason, are only complete in their own nature,
not genuinely complete. In the end the only complete thing is that which
is complete in accordance with the nature of the cosmos; but the nature of
the cosmos is rational; the rest can be complete in their own kind.
+j. In natures where there cannot exist the happy life, there also cannot
exist that which produces the happy life. But the happy life is produced
by good things. The happy life does not exist in dumb animals <nor does
that which>produces <the happy life>: the good cannot exist in a dumb
animal.
+o: +a+sr++ros
+. A dumb animal grasps things which are present by means of sense
perception; it recalls past events when it encounters something that can
remind sense perception, just as a horse recalls the road when it is brought
to the starting point of the road. Certainly when it is in the stable it has no
recollection of the road, no matter how often it has travelled it. The third
part of time, the future, is utterly irrelevant to dumb animals.
+y. So how can we think that the nature of animals is complete when
they do not have access to the complete range of time? For time consists of
three parts, past, present, and future. Animals have only the part which is
shortest and most transitory, the present. They rarely remember the past
and even it is never recalled except by the stimulus of things which are
present.
+8. So the good of a complete nature cannot exist in an incomplete
nature. Alternatively, if that sort of nature has the good, then so do
plants. I do not deny that there are in dumb animals powerful and
energetic impulses towards what seems to be according to nature, but
those impulses are disorderly and confused. The good, however, is never
disorderly or confused.
+. What, then? you say, are dumb animals moved in a disturbed
and disorganized manner? I would say that they move in a disturbed and
disorganized manner if their nature were capable of order. But as it is,
they move in accordance with their own nature. For something can be
disturbed if it can sometimes be undisturbed; something can be worried
if it can sometimes be free of worry. Vice is only present in what can
have a virtue. Dumb animals have this sort of movement by their own
natures.
:o. But to avoid detaining you too long: there will be a kind of
good in a dumb animal, there will be a kind of virtue, there will be
something complete, but not the good or virtue or something complete in
an unrestricted sense. For these attributes only inhere in rational things,
who are granted the ability to know why, to what extent, and how. So, the
good is in nothing which does not have reason.
:+. What, you ask, is the relevance now of this debate, and how will
it benet your own mind? Ill tell you. It exercises and sharpens the
mind and, at the least, since the mind is bound to be doing something in
any case, keeps it busy with an honourable employment. And it is also
benecial in that it slows down people who are rushing into moral error.
But I will <also> say this: I can in no way be of greater benet to you
than if I show you what your good is, if I distinguish you from the dumb
animals, if I place you alongside god.
rr++ra +: +o
::. Why, I say, do you nourish and exercise the strength of your
body? Nature has given greater strength to cattle and beasts. Why do
you cultivate physical beauty? Whatever you do, you will be outdone in
attractiveness by dumb animals. Why do you pour enormous effort into
doing your hair? Whether you have it owing in the Parthian style or
bound up in the German mode or in disarray as the Scythians wear it,
still, any horses mane will be thicker and the mane on a lions neck will
be more beautiful. Though you train yourself for speed, you wont be as
fast as a hare.
:. You ought to give up on competitions you are bound to lose, since
you are striving for goals that are not yours, and turn back to your own
good. What is it? Obviously, it is a mind improved and pure, rivalling god,
rising above human limitations, regarding nothing that is beyond itself as
its own. You are a rational animal. So what is the good in you? Reason
brought to completion. Challenge reason to go from where it is now to its
own nal goal, <allow> it to grow as great as it can.
:. Decide that you are happy when all of your joy comes from within
you, when you gaze upon the things which people seize, wish for, protect
and yet nd nothing which you wouldI dont say prefer, but nothing
you would want. Ill give you a brief guideline by which you can measure
yourself, by which you can tell that you have become complete: you will
only have what is yours when you come to understand that the least
fortunate are fortunate.
Farewell.
COMMENTARY
GROUP +
(LETTERS j8, j, )
The commentary on Letters 8 and 6 benetted especially from remarks
by Nick Denyer, David Sedley, and Robert Wardy. I am also grateful for
advice and encouragement from John Magee.
The three letters in this group share a focus on themes in Platonic and
to a lesser extent Aristotelian philosophy. 8 and 6 have commonly been
treatedtogether, not just because of this intrinsic similarity but also because
they have been regarded as a valuable source for information about the
early development of middle Platonism. The focus on the possible roles
of Posidonius, Antiochus of Ascalon, Eudorus of Alexandria, and others as
source (direct or indirect) for Senecas views on Platonic and Aristotelian
doctrine has sometimes drawn attention away from careful analysis of the
letters themselves. It has been unusual for each letter to be analyzed in its
entirety and in its own right. When this is done it becomes less plausible to
separate out the intractable problems of source criticismfromother aspects
of the letters. Scholarship on 66 has been less enmeshed in source-critical
debates but is in other respects similar to 8 and 6. Although each letter
is discussed separately in the commentaries which follow, a few general
remarks about method and current literature may be helpful.
The basic literature includes Bickel +o; Dillon +; Donini +y;
D orrie and Baltes +y:oo:: vol. ., esp. :+ ff. and +o ff.; Mans-
feld +:; Rist +8; Sch onegg +; Sedley :ooj; Theiler +; and
Whittaker +yj.
The best sustained account of 8s contribution to the understanding
of earlier Stoic theory is provided in Brunschwig + (with useful
elaboration in Barnes :oo: +++8); Brunschwig :oo; Caston +; and
Long and Sedley +8y: ch. :y.
For discussion of the place of 8 and 6 in the Platonic and Aristotelian
school traditions see Mansfeld +:: 8+o; Sedley :ooj: n. + gives a
resum e of other pertinent literature. See also D orrie andBaltes +8y:oo::
vol. , commentary on +oj.+, +o.+, ++.+, and ++8.+. Barnes :oo is the
+o8 cor++av
current last word on the later ancient method of collection and division
for which this letter is often the earliest source; concern with collection
and division in general goes back to Plato.
In this commentary I shall be more concerned with giving an account
of Senecas letter in its own right rather than in terms of its usefulness as a
source for earlier Stoicism or (possibly later) Platonism. This is closest to
the general intent of D. Sedley (:ooj) who employs 8 and 6 to shed light
on the character of Senecas relationship with the reinvigorated Platonism
of his day.
The starting point for recent discussion of the letter is (as Mansfeld
says) Donini +y. Donini tends to see Seneca as being absorbed (in
part for personal and emotional reasons) by the attractions of an already
highly developed scholastic form of middle Platonism, a philosophical
model which stands in strong opposition to the Stoicism to which Seneca
normally adheres. The result of this general interpretation is that he
detects commitments to scholastic middle Platonism in much of 8 and
6 where one might just as easily see no more than Senecas interest in
aspects of Platos dialogues. Donini (+y: +j+ and +y, n. +) regards it
as beyond question that Seneca can have done no more than turn a few
pages of a few Platonic dialogues and begins his entire exposition from
the belief that the Platonism which Seneca presents in these two letters
is that which was current in the handbooks and philosophical schools
of his time, the era of middle Platonism. (A more open-minded view
about Senecas possible use of Platonic dialogues is articulated by Currie
+: 8.) Similarly, Whittaker (+yj: +) rests his condence that
the key parts of 8 are directly dependent on written middle Platonic
doctrines on the hypothesis, no longer widely accepted, that there existed
a full Greek commentary on Platos Timaeus, esp. :yd-:8a, in the century
before Seneca. Bickels argument that the key sections of these letters are
a mere translation of a source text (like his argument that the friend of
8.8 is Annaeus Amicus, a freedman working in Senecas own library),
has not carried much conviction, though Whittaker (+yj: +j) is
supportive of the claim. Given the state of our knowledge about organized
schools of Platonism before Senecas day, these are unprovable claims
which should not be used preemptively to control the interpretation of
these two letters. That said, it is certainly true that similarities between
the content of the Platonic portions of these letters and later Platonist
treatises can tell us a good deal about the development of Platonism in
the rst century +n. D orrie-Baltes provides a discussion of some aspects
of these letters from this point of view; while not fully convincing, they
oaotr + (rr++ras j8, j, ) +o
at least avoid the excesses of Bickels approach. For a balanced view of
how Seneca proceeded, see Sch onegg (+: 8y), who argues that in 8
Seneca drew on Platos work directly and took advantage of the existing
Platonist commentaries and excerpts (such as they may have been) and
also on actual discussions with friends. Considerable weight is given to
the independence of mind which Sch onegg (soundly in my view) suggests
was a source of pride for Seneca.
Letter 8 purports to be a report to Lucilius about a discussion among
Seneca and some friends about Platonic themes. At least one friend (amicus
noster 8.8) is an expert in Platonic metaphysics and seems also to be well
versed in the corresponding theories of Aristotle. Seneca is silent about
the identity of these philosophical companions, though he is prepared to
name the Romans Fabianus and Cicero (8.6), also philosophical writers,
as authorities for the use of essentia as a translation for the Greek term
ousia. Since Seneca is elsewhere ready to name Greek philosophers and
to discuss their views, his silence about the identity of the Platonist(s) he
reports here is intriguing. (The closest parallel for Senecas practice here
which comes readily to mind is Ciceros designation of the possibly Stoic
sources for De Legibus I as learned men rather than as Stoics, let alone
named individual Stoics.)
Sedley (:ooj; see below on 6) suggests that Senecas connections with
the contemporary Stoic philosopher Lucius Annaeus Cornutus might be
relevant; he also argues for the possibility that a Platonist (whose date is
otherwise hard to determine) named Severus is part of the Stoic-Platonic
syncretistic atmosphere which inuences the letter. Cornutus wrote in
Greek and seems to have published on Aristotles Categories as well as
on Stoic theology. But it is worth recalling that he is never mentioned
by Seneca in any work. Rist (+8: :o+o++) reviews the wide range
of earlier suggestions about the sources for the Platonic themes in these
letters and himself thinks there is a single Platonizing source for both
letters and that Arius Didymus is most likely, though Eudorus not to be
ruled out. Dillon (+: +jy) also sees substantial Platonic inuence
here and considers Philo before settling on Eudorus as the likeliest source
for 8, 6, and other Platonizing doctrines in Seneca. Theiler + devotes
a lengthy discussion to showing the relationship of Senecas views in 8
and 6 to various Greek sources for Platonism and argues that Antiochus
is the source (yjj); Donini +y also argues at length (appendice A) for
Antiochus on different grounds from Theilers.
But no matter who (if anyone) is to be thought of as the Platonic friend,
Seneca did not need to have a single source (and certainly not necessarily
++o cor++av
a written source: see the sensible remarks of Sedley :ooj: +j) for the
views he reports. Awidely read and discerning man like Seneca could have
derived these views on the basis of diffuse reading of Plato and Platonists
over a long period of time; lectures by philosophers are another obvious
source; and it is always possible that the truth about the sources for 8 and
6 is exactly what Seneca says it is: conversations with friends. In y6 Seneca
reports that he was still attending a school, no doubt Stoic, but there is
no reason to doubt that he also heard Platonists lecture from time to time;
in yy.6 a Stoic friend is given a signicant role. 8, 6 and many other
letters establish that Seneca was comfortably familiar with an atmosphere
of Stoic-Platonic debate and discussion. Source-critical reconstructions
and arguments about the identity of the philosophers will inevitably be
speculative; it is most clear that Seneca as the author of these letters
wants his readers to see him as operating in an atmosphere of friendly and
collegial philosophical exchange. Unlike Victor Caston (+: +j+, n. +o),
who follows Mansfeld (+:: 8j, n. ::), I can see no reason to doubt
that when Seneca says I he is speaking for himself. Our primary interest
should be in Senecas own interests and commitments and that will be the
primary focus in this commentary; see Sedley :ooj: +:j and n. +.
The themes of 8 suggest that Seneca was interested in the Apology
(though it seems to contribute only the reference to the gady, but see also
6.z and note) as well as the Timaeus, the Phaedrus, the Phaedo, and quite
possibly the Sophist. Seneca knows a great deal about Platonism (there
is certainly abundant indication of his interest in the Phaedo and other
dialogues) and chooses to portray himself as part of a group which can
productively (but not professionally) discuss Platonic as well as Stoic ideas.
Whether he (as opposed to those who inuenced him) held strong views
about the relationship of Plato to Stoic thought is less clear, though (as
Robert Wardy has observed) at 1o8.8 Plato is invoked in close connection
with leaders of the Stoic school. Such signs of a deep interest in Platonism
should not be taken as decisive in an assessment of Senecas afliation
to other schools, for in many places Epicureanism attracts an equally
sympathetic attention from Seneca. If any school is most commonly
opposed by Seneca it is the Peripateticarguably the most plausible and
therefore threatening opponent of Stoic moral theorybut that does not
deter Seneca from a serious discussion of Aristotles causal theory in 6 or
from recounting a version of Platonism inuenced by Aristotle in 8.
Perhaps the best general view about Seneca and his relations with other
schools is this: that he knew a great deal about many schools and was
interested in them; that he consistently preferred the central doctrines
rr++ra j8 +++
of Stoicism and regarded it as his own school; that he had no reason
to assume that Stoics were right about all the important questions or
free of serious limitations, any more than he thought that other schools
had nothing to contribute to the intellectual and moral growth at which
philosophy aims. Seneca chooses to emphasize relations with different
schools in different connections and may even have had a general plan to
display for his readers the relationship of Stoicism to the main schools of
his day. In Natural Questions y.: Seneca offers general reections on the
state of philosophy at Rome, an indication of his interest in the subject
generally rather than just his own school.
Commentary on j8
Thematic division
+: A discussion of Plato leads to reections on Latin as a
language for philosophy and the wastefulness of turning up
ones nose at archaic terms which might be useful.
jy: Even the use of articial terms can be justied if the meaning
requires it. The topic is being in Plato (to on) and Seneca
renders it what is.
8+:: Understanding Platos six senses of what is requires
an explanation of hierarchical classication by genus and
species. What is is the highest and most general classica-
tion.
++j: The competing Stoic theory that the highest genus is
something.
+::: Platos six senses of what is.
::: The impermanence of all material being.
:j+: The benet to be had from such technical discussion.
:y: Death and the mind-body relation.
Sevensections (nearlya fthof the letter) are devotedtothe introductory
discussion about language; eighteen sections (about half of the letter) are
devoted to the ostensible main theme, the six modes of being according to
Plato; the balance of the letter is devoted to reections (mostly on the value
of external goods) provoked by the metaphysical discussion. Perhaps the
most striking feature of the letters general strategy is the way it draws
an essentially Stoic conclusion on the basis of a fundamentally Platonic
metaphysical discussion. As Seneca says with regard to Epicureanism,
what is true is ones own (1z.11).
++: cor++av
8.1 For the familiar theme of lexical limitations of Latin as a vehicle
for philosophical discussion and the difculty of nding the appropriate
translation for Greek philosophical terms, see, for example, Lucretius,
DRN +.+j, +.8+, .:o; Quint. Inst. :.+; Seneca, De Ira ..:,
Ben. :.., Tranq. An. :., q.z, 11y.. At y.1y Seneca discusses preferred
indifferents, Greek pro
est
orimon h
emin) and
what more knowable in itself (gn
orimon hapl
osanei, used to
indicate a diminished sense in which a term applies (cf. h
osanei ti, h
osanei
poion at D.L. y.+ and Stobaeus Ecl. +.+.:++.+y. (= SVF +.j and
LS oA,C), though no Stoic source applies it to being as is apparently
done here.
D orrie-Baltes (vol. , :y) deny that as it were being is a Stoic concept
and so suggest that here we see evidence of a Platonist exploiting a Stoic
concept against them.
Donini (+y: +8, n. ) regards the entire classication as being
ontological and treats Senecas talk of ways in which Plato speaks of
being as a result of confusion. D orrie-Baltes also take the classication as
being solely ontological, agreeing with Dillon that this passage is a coherent
scheme drawn directly from a middle Platonic handbook and suggesting
further that it was preoccupied with interpretation of Platos Timaeus.
This approach seems insufciently sensitive to the details of Senecas text
and to be motivated in part by the desire to nd early evidence for both this
preoccupation with the Timaeus and for fully worked-out handbooks of
doctrinal Platonism. In both respects this may be anachronistic; it certainly
does not strengthen the case for this view of the history of Platonism to
invoke this letter in favour of it.
On balance the catalogue of modi given here seems to be heterogeneous
rather than fully systematized on any one set of principles. The classica-
tion given here is a mixture of an account of the ways Plato talks and of an
independently grounded ontological classication. Numbers + and j are
clearly quomodo dicitur (these really are ways that Plato talks) and the others
seem more like bins in an ontological classication scheme. It remains
contentious how those two ways of classifying are related. A mixed set
of considerations is at work, but then perhaps this is not surprising if we
regard the entire classication as a preparation for the question what is
the use? in 8.z ff.
8.zz This is an important transitional passage. Having rst outlined
(in his own voice) an ontological classication to support the Platonic list
of the senses of what is (reported from the account of his philosophical
friend), Seneca now (unambiguously in his own voice) reects on what
+:8 cor++av
Plato and Heraclitus say about the transience of ordinary things, including
persons. The fth sense of what is included individual human beings,
who were explicitly denied being in the rst sense (8.16) and are
evidently excluded from senses two, three, and four. Perhaps, then, the
central purpose of the account of the six senses of being is to locate
human individuals in a larger ontological scheme. Despite the differences
between Stoic ontology (in either the mainstream version or the version
Seneca apparently advocates), Platonic and Stoic philosophers agree on
the position of human individuals within nature: we are among the uid
and transient things of the world. If this is so, then the philosophical
looseness of the exposition may be the result of Senecas own strategy
of presentation rather than direct evidence for some lost early middle
Platonic source.
The extension of the term whatever (quaecumque) in 8.zz is clearly
the items mentioned in mode j, things which exist in the ordinary sense of
the word. The observations here about the ux and instability of ordinary
things introduce the theme of the concluding phase of the dialogue which
is its moral lesson. (See also 8.zy; compare also what Seneca says in
1zo.1y18.) If that is so, then an effort is being made to suggest shared
ground between Stoic and Platonic theories precisely on the point of
metaphysics which motivates a sense of detachment from the importance
of the physical world to ones moral situation. It is worth noting that it
is tied fairly closely to the Cratylean themes in Plato and also integrated
very closely to the not necessarily Platonic conclusion of the letter.
8.zz in the ordinarily accepted sense. For this relatively unusual use
of communiter compare Cicero, De Ofciis .+y. On the meaning of in
the strict sense ( proprie) see 8.18 proprie sunt, propria supellex (and 8.11
proprium nomen).
Things which are in the strict sense seem to be in senses one, two,
and three of the Platonic ontology. Things which are in the fourth
sense are probably not included, though Seneca does not emphasize their
instability but rather their relationship to the Forms. Seneca attributes to
Plato views about the instability of everything tangible and visible, but
seems himself exclusively interested in the status of humans. (In 8.z he
compares the mutability of human beings to that of the entire physical
cosmos.) His focus here is on the constancy of corporeal change (physical
objects lose and add material stuff constantly). Though he says that it is
our bodies which are swept along like rivers, he includes our whole selves
in the impermanence of things: ego ipse, nemo nostrum. Mainstream Stoics
rr++ra j8 +:
certainly take the view that our souls are corporeal and fused intimately
with our bodies (see Body and Soul in Stoicism, ch. +o of Long +)
and there is no sign here that Seneca believes in souls that are our true
selves in that they outlast the body. The I is not saved from instability
by being identied with a soul which is separate from its bodyin this
respect the view taken here is unlike the Platonism of the Phaedo. See also
z.1qz1 for the theme we die day by day (cotidie morimur).
The mention of constant loss and replacement of the material compo-
nents of things suggests the inuence of the so-called growing argument,
on which see Sedley +8:. Platonic interest in this form of material ux is
also manifest in the Theaetetus +j:o, Symposium :oy,' Sophist :: (the
Ionian and Sicilian muses), and in Aristotles account of Platonic ontology
(Metaphysics 8yab). See also Theiler +: +, Epicharmus fr. :.
8.z Heraclitus plays animportant role inthe story of Platonic emphasis
on material instability. He is also widely regarded as an important inuence
on Stoic physics and metaphysics (and on Cleanthes version of Stoic
theology). Hence this passage, which appears as Heraclitus B a in
Diels-Kranz +, suggests strongly that Heraclitus was at some point a
focus of dialogue or debate between Stoics and Platonists. It is not obvious
that this dialogue was at all extensive or explicit before Seneca wrote this
passage. For a full but highly speculative source-critical account of the
history of the river fragment, see Marcovich +y: :o+; he suggests,
not implausibly, that Platos version of the fragment lies ultimately behind
this passage. But at best Seneca gives us here an indirect reection of a
long tradition of attempts to interpret and criticize Heraclitus fragment.
In assessing how much of Senecas discussion here might be owed to
earlier sources, we should recall that at this point he has nished his
report of what his Platonic friend said and is himself making a transition
to the moral application of the doctrines which occupy the last third of the
letter. Admittedly, it would be surprising if Stoics and Platonists had not
debated Heraclitean themes earlier; but it is hardly necessary that Seneca
be drawing on some specic source reporting a particular debate. Nothing
is said here that could not be Senecas own work.
8.z There is a large literature on the Heraclitean doctrine about
rivers. In addition to Marcovich +y: +:+, see Kahn +y, on his
fragments L and LI, and Hussey +, ch. j in Long +. For Seneca,
' Thanks to Gur Zak for suggesting the relevance of the Symposium here and for other
stimulating discussion.
+o cor++av
the stability of the river is found in its name we call it the same river
despite the passage of constantly different waters. When Seneca says that
this phenomenon is merely more apparent in the case of a river than in
that of a person, this raises an interesting question about his views on
the constancy of a human individual. What is there which grounds our
unity over time beyond our mere name? Is it merely the fact that we
keep referring to John Doe by the same name that constitutes his unity?
This would be a much weaker view of human unity over time than the
one suggested in 1z1 and even weaker than the view expressed in this
section. For here there is a we (no doubt our rational soul) that adopts
a particular view about its relationship to the body: loving it excessively
and fearing death (i.e., the separation of soul and body) as some major
event in life when in a very important sense it is a constant feature of our
existence. (Every moment is the death of a prior state can be compared
to 1zo.1y18.) Nevertheless, Seneca describes the views we take about
the body as erroneous (dementiam nostram). Thus we cannot assume that
Seneca adopts a Platonic view identifying the self with an immortal soul
(a view which would conict with 8.zz); it is left an open question what
we truly are, where the locus of our diachronic unity is to be found. It
is surely more than the mere name which constitutes the unity over time
of a river, but something less than a Platonic immortal soul as assumed in
the Phaedo. 1z1 is perhaps the fullest account of Senecas metaphysics of
personal identity, but apparently he does not think it essential to provide
full clarication in this context.
8.z Here Seneca emphasizes again that he is speaking primarily of the
uidity of individual human beings; the vulnerability and changeability
of the entire cosmos are also mentioned. However, he seems not to be
asserting that they form a microcosm and macrocosm with the same kind
of instability. For a human being is perishable (caduca) while the cosmos is
eternal and invincible. The cosmos changes its conguration (ordo) but
cannot perishafter all, it contains within itself all that it ever had. The
position taken here on the mutability of the cosmos is phrased in such a way
that there could be agreement between a mainstreamStoic (whose belief in
the eventual conagration and reconstitution of the cosmos is rm) and a
Platonist who thinks that according to the Timaeus the world is eternal but
changing in its conguration and details; Senecas view is frankly incom-
patible with belief in the perishability of the cosmos (but see 8.zq below).
Comparable reections are aired by Seneca in less clearly Platonic
contexts: o.11, 6.1o; see also Marcus Aurelius :.+y ff. where themes of
rr++ra j8 ++
a vaguely Platonic and Heraclitean character are harnessed to a broadly
Stoic message.
Although 8.z is clearly far more accessible than the classications
discussed earlier in this letter, it is still technical and so the abrupt change
in theme at 8.z sweeps it into the category of subtilitas.
8.z As often in the letters, Seneca self-consciously marks a major
break in the themes and point of view taken. As also happens frequently,
the motivation here for the break is a concern for the practical or
moral utility of the discussion. Despite the apparent naturalness of such a
pragmatic break it is important to recall that this is a deliberate structural
and thematic feature of the letter. We need to ask not just about its
signicance within the framework of the letter-writing persona (Seneca the
correspondent) but also from the point of view of Seneca as an author. To
do otherwise would be akin to neglecting the difference between Socrates
as a character and Plato as an author. Hence the self-conscious general
statement about his practice (8.z6) has a programmatic force: This,
Lucilius, is what I normally do: from every notion, even if it is quite
remote from philosophy, I try to dig out something and make it useful.
Seneca writes, it seems, for an audience aware that philosophy is a fully
developed professional calling, even aware of a fair bit of philosophical
doctrine; yet the audience he seems to envisage is rightly sceptical about
the utility of philosophy. By portraying himself as struggling with the same
issues he guides his readers towards seeing how philosophy (if properly
employed) can be an appropriate and productive part of their lives.
8.z This marks the beginning of phase : of the letter. The question
(8.z6) as to how the Platonic ideae can make one better is perhaps meant
to recall Aristotle in EN + (esp. +ob:+oya) on the Form of the
Good. But now there is an answer to the challenge to nd utility in Platos
Forms. Beyond the recreational benets of such philosophical activity
(8.z), Seneca points to the value of becoming more aware of the low
ontological status of physical objects. Why is that so useful? Such things
are the focus of morally unstable desires, so that regarding themas to some
extent unreal will, he thinks, make it easier to resist desire for them. Since
Stoicism itself does not regard any physical object as less real because it
is corporeal (indeed, just the opposite), this would appear to be a case of
intellectual opportunism: the reason for valuing a view is independent of
its perceived truth. In the previous section Seneca clearly preferred to
apply the doctrine that the less permanent is less real to human bodies
+: cor++av
rather than to the full range of physical objects, so this application of the
doctrine is more of a Platonic intrusion.
The idea that ones intellectual activity should be useful to the conduct
of ones life in general is ultimately Socratic and it naturally pervades
Senecas own works. The reader of 8 will recall .; the theme is also
important in 6 and will emerge again later in the collection of letters (e.g.,
1oq.1y).
8.zy Here Seneca juxtaposes the unreality of the objects of desire with
the character of our desire for them. We desire them as though they were
permanent and so our achievement of them could be a long-lasting benet
to us. But in fact our desire to possess them in this way is tainted not
just because of the defect in the objects of our desire, but because we
ourselves are impermanent; even if we got them, we would not enjoy them
for long. Despite our unstable nature (we are weak and uid beings) we
sense the appeal of nding satisfaction among things which are, in fact,
permanent: god and the heavenly bodies (see 8.z: aeterna res et invicta).
The underlying notion is that true fullment of desire can only be found
with an object which has permanence. Note that the resort to cosmological
perfection envisaged in 8.zy8 is Stoic in its cosmology and theology.
The demiurge here is as Stoic as it is Platonic, as is the idea that the
divine creator is limited in what he can achieve by the defects of the raw
material he works with. However, at the end of 8.z8 Seneca reverts to
the markedly Platonic notion that impermanent things are less than real.
8.zy soar aloft. volitantes could be taken with we or with the shapes
( formas). I prefer the image of the human mind soaring aloft to see the
shapes or forms (as in the myth of the Phaedrus), but one could also
suppose that Seneca imagines the forms or shapes as what is aloft for us
to contemplate. Donini (+y: +8) suggests that the reference here is to
the theory that the forms are the ideas in gods mind, but god circulating
among them is ill phrased to express that notion.
8.zy taking care translates providentem and a suggestion of divine
foresight or providence would not be out of place.
For comparable cosmologically inspired ights of the imagination, see
Cons. Polyb. , NQ + pref. esp. +y, Cons. Helv. :o, and 6.16zz.
8.z8 rulers concern renders cura regentis. The inuence of the Timaeus
is obvious, but there is a hint also of monarchical responsibilities for the
rr++ra j8 +
well-being of his people. See Clem. +.: (in terris deorum vice fungerer), +.j
(omnia quae in dem tutelamque tuam venerunt), +.y.
8.zqz Rational care and its relation to longevitythe biographical
example of Plato reveals another reward to be derived fromPlatonic reec-
tions. This argument involves an explicit comparison of the microcosm
of the human body with the macrocosm of the cosmos. Our intelligence
stands to the body as the intelligence which is god stands to the cosmos.
Rational care and foresight always need to be exercised to extend the life
of something which is intrinsically weak and perishable. Plato showed this
in his own case, extending his life to an ideal age by curbing his desires.
Compare NQ .o.j for the parallel of the world to the human body
and for the importance of diligentia.
8.zq By saying that the cosmos itself is no less mortal than we are,
Seneca appears to be in conict with his own account of the cosmos in
8.z where it is said to be eternal and invincible, merely changing its
conguration. Two solutions suggest themselves. If cosmos (mundus) here
designates not the physical world as a bodily object but the particular
conguration that it has, then the two passages can be compatible.
Alternatively, Senecas point may be that the world, if considered without
the intelligent planning power of god ( providentia), is as mortal as we are
but that god and matter (the two Stoic archai) are inseparably fused so
that the eternity of the world proclaimed in 8.z is guaranteed. Human
intelligence is, by contrast, less integrated with our bodily nature. Sedley
(:ooj: +:) interprets 8.z8q as being about the Platonic cosmology of
the Timaeus on the literal creationist interpretation and implicitly takes
8.z to refer to a different cosmological theory. But Seneca does not
indicate that his remarks belong to different cosmological perspectives,
which perhaps counts for more in the interpretation of this letter than a
desire to map its doctrine onto the spectrum of known Platonist views.
8.o The ancient legend (D.L. .+, .) was that Plato was a nickname
given to Aristocles on account of his sturdy physique ( platus is Greek for
broad or wide). See also Theiler +: +j.
8.1 The manuscripts are corrupt here; with hesitation I follow
Reynolds in his acceptance of Madvigs emendation ( paratus sis et).
On this reading, Seneca is making the sly suggestion that, in return for not
having to restrain his desires as fully as did Plato, Lucilius would settle for a
+ cor++av
life shorter and less perfect than Platos and the cult recognition merited
by such perfection. Perhaps to feel otherwise would be little short of
hybristic, but Senecas main point seems to be that the choice about length
of life lies to a great extent with the agent.
For Platos death at the age of 8+ cf. D.L. .:. For Platos voyages, see
for example D.L. .:, Cicero Rep. +.+, Fin. j.8y.
8.z Reection on the trade-offs which might be made between the
length of life and the way it is led brings Seneca to the general theme of
the value of prolonging life into old age. A long old age is certainly not to
be grasped at (concupiscendam), since that would be to aim ones desires
at something inherently unstable and unachievable (see 8.zy), but it is
not to be rejected. A grasping attachment to life is as much a matter of
excessive desire as is an excessive dedication to wine.
Hence the key thing is to come to an explicit judgement about the
quality of life when dealing with the issue of how long one wishes to hold
on. If the quality of life (which is the determining factor in such matters)
is low, then the decision not to wait for death but to take matters into ones
own hands is reasonable. Since living can be thought of as keeping oneself
company (secum esse) or spending time with oneself, the decisive factor
here (as in ordinary social relations) is the quality of ones companionship.
Compare 6.y on becoming a friend to oneself.
pleasant to be with oneself . Cf. z.1, 6.y, 1o.1, NQ a pref. +:. The
maxim of Antisthenes the Cynic may be behind such reections: D.L. ..
bring it about directly. On self-inicted death see, e.g., D.L. y.+o,
1z.1o, z6.1o, yo.y, yo.zo, yy.1, q8.118. For an autobiographical reec-
tion on the factors which might contribute to such a decision see y8.z,
a text which also supports the conclusion in 8.6 that to choose death
solely because of pain is a form of defeat. Also Seneca on Freedom and
Autonomy, chapter ++ in Inwood :ooj.
8.y Hence it is a question worth debating whether the nal stretch
of life is worth living or notthis will surely vary from case to case. The
contrast of body and mind in 8. might seem to suggest that the mind
survives without the body, but a close reading shows that this is not the
case. See also z6.z, y8.z.
On the image of the failing body as a collapsing building, see De Ira
:.:8., 1zo.1y.
no crueller loss. The integrity of the text has been challenged here, as
by Shackleton-Bailey +yo: j, and there is no doubt that the phrasing of
rr++ra j8 +j
the Latin seems slightly awkward. But if interpreted sensitively the force
of the rhetorical question gives excellent sense: literally, by how much
do you judge it crueller to have lost anything from life than the right
to end it.
Seneca recommends a calculation of risk and the reward: a bit of extra
time is worth little (though not nothing) while the penalty of losing the
ability to choose the time of ones death is great. Hence the idea that
one might consider suicide before the quality of life declines below the
tolerable level is not an unreasonable or morbid desire. It is, rather, a
reection of the relative values placed on self-determination and on being
alive. It is evident that in this passage Seneca is outlining a framework
for making choices about when and how to die rather than establishing a
doctrine about the right time to die which could be applied to all cases.
needs to be. Both occurrences of this phrase render the Latin word
debere. ought to be might be a more conservative translation, but
misleading if taken to indicate a moral obligation. debere indicates being
under an obligation or having to do something either for legal/moral
reasons or for reasons of efciency, convenience, etc. (OLD s.v. c).
(The obligation can also be logical, but that is not to the point here.)
Here it would be absurd to think that Seneca is claiming that one should
commit suicide before the time when one is morally obliged to do so; as
the context indicates, his concern is with our inability to carry out the
suicide when the appropriate time comes, that is, when one can no longer
live an appropriately human life. Seneca doesnt think we are morally
obliged to kill ourselves then, only that it is permissible and sensible to do
so. Anticipating that nal moment is worth doing for practical rather than
moral reasons.
make use of themselves, i.e., deal with oneself and ones situation with
a normal form of agency. See B enatoul :oo at n. j. See also 6o. for a
similar turn of phrase. This phrase is rather more what we would expect
of Epictetus.
8.6 Having offered this general recommendation about how to
decide when life is worth giving up, Seneca turns to his own case and
that of Lucilius. It is appropriate in the epistolary context to anticipate
the unease his correspondent might be feeling at this discussion of how
and when to die. It is reassuring for Lucilius to be told that Seneca is not
applying this view pointedly to Lucilius, and Seneca gives his personal
assessment of his own situation and the views he will bring to bear on his
own decision when the time comes. It is clearly very important that the
+ cor++av
decision about death is to be taken by the individual. At the same time, it
is important to note here that Senecas view on suicide and the value of
living long into old age is compatible with the general Stoic view about
suicide. The prospect of a life containing nothing but pain is grounds for
suicide not because of the pain itself but rather because the entire goal of
life, the whole point of living, ones propositum, is impaired by such pain.
Pain in itself should not be decisiveit is, after all, an indifferent (see
Cicero Fin. .j+)in ones decision. The decision to live or die is made
in accordance with ones ability or inability to carry out the function and
goal of a human being.
8.y digress too long (in longum exeo). Sch onegg +: +oj suggests
a double entendre: I am taking a long time to die is the other suggested
sense (exploiting two senses of exire, to go out).
Commentary on j
For the relation of this letter to contemporary Platonism, see the intro-
duction to 8 and Inwood forthcoming (:). Once again Senecas letter to
Lucilius is an account of a days intellectual activity (though this time it
is a debate rather than an exposition by a friend). This kind of setting will
appear again in 66. Sedley (:ooj, see on 8) argues that the friends in 6
are supposed to be Platonists, since the theory is eventually illustrated by
reference to the Timaeus (6.1o). But the views of Aristotle and those of
Plato are clearly distinguished by Seneca in 6.1o, so perhaps it is better
to say that the group of friends included Platonists open to integration with
Aristotelian theory and also some who spoke for Aristotle alone. Sedleys
consolidation of the friend of 8 and all of the friends in 6 yields an unnec-
essarily narrow picture of the circles in which Seneca presents himself as
moving. The fact that this is a three-way debate or case at law(triplex causa
6.z) among Stoics, Plato, and Aristotle also suggests that Seneca wants
to mark a difference among his friendsthe atmosphere is one of debate
rather than mere exposition. This aspect of Senecas letter is needlessly
deemphasized if one treats it (following D orrie-Baltes) as being funda-
mentally dependent on the use (by Seneca or his allegedly unique source)
of doctrinal summaries rather than original works or actual conversation.
Additional literature in this vein includes Scarpat +yo; Donini +y: :y8; Maurach
+yo: +:y; Timpanaro +y: :oj and response by Guida +8+: 8+; Sch onegg
+: +oo.
rr++ra j +y
In general, we may note (following Sedley) the emphasis here and in
8 on ascertaining the correct number of something in the discussions
of physics, although the thing counted in 8 was entities rather than
causes. In the doxographical tradition this is common, perhaps only
because doxographies provide summary lists as an organizational device.
But the play with numbers has a clear precedent in fourth-century
philosophy. NB Platos Philebus : ff., the role of divisions in Academic
philosophy, and Aristotles concern with how many senses there are of
various things.
The metaphor of legal debate is persistent through the letter. This is
a natural enough metaphor in any philosopher, especially a Roman one,
and Seneca is very prone to its use. Note also the use of the metaphor
of litigation in Ciceros De Legibus +.j (where Cicero the character
says (+.j), But I would like to have been assigned as arbitrator (arbiter)
between the Old Academy and Zeno, trans. Zetzel). Here, Lucilius is
cast in the role of arbitrator (6.z), but is pointedly encouraged (6.1o)
not to hold out for a true verdict but one which is most like the truth
(verisimilethis is the language of Academic scepticism in Ciceros
formulation); he is even invited (6.1) to avoid coming to a judgement
and to ask for further arguments. The progression is towards avoidance
of judgement and maintenance of ongoing debate on the issue. Normally
Seneca is impatient with programmatic scepticism (actually holding that
nothing can be known), but here the scepticism seems procedural rather
than dogmatic. The process of investigation seems to be the source of
much of the benet to the enquirer, a benet which comes ultimately
in the form of a view which the mind takes with regard to the body,
a view which frees it from fear (see the helpful remarks of Maurach
+yo: +).
Thematic division
+:: Setting the scene. A group of friends debated causation and
left the issues unresolved.
:: The Stoic position is that there is only one cause, the active
principle = reason.
: Aristotles four causes.
y+o: Plato adds a fth (and sixth) cause to Aristotles.
+o+j: Lucilius invited to adjudicate the debate; Seneca argues the
Stoic case again.
I discuss other uses of legal metaphors in my Natural Law in Seneca, ch. 8 of Inwood
:ooj.
+8 cor++av
+j::: Seneca defends such discussion about issues in physics.
:: Application of this discussion to ones whole life.
6.1z On Senecas illness, see also .1. Here Seneca portrays a
continuous progression of intensity in his activity the day before the
letter is written. First bed rest, then reading, then writing. We are then
told that the writing was of unusual intensity because of the difculty
of the material and his own determination to master it (vinci nolo). The
interruption (donec intervenerunt) comes as a climax to this process, and
we are to think of his friends as extracting him for their debate when
he was already at the peak of his own labours. What was Seneca writing
about? The only clue is in 6.1, though the remark there may reect
general habits rather than the present event: I investigate myself rst and
then this cosmos. We are perhaps to suppose that Seneca had willed his
mind (note imperare) to address a serious question about himself, found
himself so drawn in that an overt act of will power was no longer needed
( permittere). His concentration was at its height, so that force and coercion
were needed to impose on himthe less demanding activity of philosophical
conversation. It is not clear whether Seneca still was a patient or whether
he had recovered from his illness (note as though I were an obstreperous
patient). The fact that Seneca reports only the controversial part of the
conversation suggests that even on the next day Seneca is focussing on
contentious matters (the areas of agreement and any small talk among
friends are not reported, only the unresolved disagreements); the warning
that the role of arbitrator will be unexpectedly demanding is another
indication of the seriousness of the conversation.
obstreperous renders the Latin intemperans. I owe the translation to
Doug Hutchinson.
6.z The debate among Senecas friends was about causes in nature
as a whole (in rerum natura, de universo). Seneca expounds his own schools
position rst and presumes upon Lucilius familiarity with it (ut scis).
Although the explicit topic is causation and it turns out that only god is a
cause, Seneca outlines both principles of Stoic physics. (For a suggestion
about why, see below on 6.z). The two basic principles of Stoic
physics are the active and the passive, god and matter, the cause and that
on which it acts (LS , jGH, D.L. y.+jo; also SVF +.8, :.++o8). Taken
in isolation matter (hul
ekon)
which has all the numbers or is a perfect appropriate action. For
discussion see The harmonics of Stoic virtue, ch. (esp. p. :++) of
Long +. The term is also employed in the Antiochean critique of
the Stoic view that all wrong actions are equal at Fin. .j (quasi numeros
ofcii the apologetic quasi marks Ciceros self-consciousness about the
borrowing and/or the metaphor). It is noteworthy that this text of Seneca
is seldom mentioned in discussions of the topic. No doubt it should
be, for the aspects or numbers here are of every thing which is to be
done (numeros universorum quae agenda sunt). The mention of agenda
recalls the ordo et concordia rerum agendarum in Ciceros account of how
one learns to be good (Fin. .:+); compare below on 1zo.11. D orrie-
Baltes (vol. : +8), however, hold that the numbers here guarantee a
reference to Timaeus jb and interpret modes (modi) as a translation of
metra (not mentioned at that point in the Timaeus). It is certain that the
Timaeus is in Senecas mind here, but D orrie-Baltess determination to
see Senecas text exclusively in the context of systematic middle-Platonic
doctrine and as focussed on the Timaeus narrows their interpretive options
unnecessarily.
For the question of the prepositional labels for the causes, see my discussion in Inwood
forthcoming (:), esp. the text at nn. o+.
Aristotle is in quotation marks here because the full statue example nowhere occurs
in his works, although it is used by Alexander, De Fato +y.:+:, and Clem. Al. Strom.
VIII .:.:. See Todd +y: +::. There is also, of course, good reason to doubt
that the examples given of an Aristotelian nal cause are, or could be made, acceptable to
Aristotle.
+ cor++av
So when Seneca here attributes to Plato the view that god has in his
mind not only the exemplary forms to which he will look in creating the
world but also the aspects and modes of every thing which is to be done
it is tempting to suppose that this is a periphrasis for the Forms of moral
virtues. Although this letter deals primarily with themes from physics, it
is worth noticing that the Forms of virtue are just as much in gods mind
as they are in the mind of the sage.
It is also worth noting that the form of human is chosen to exemplify
the contrast of permanent forms and transient particulars (for which
compare 8.zz). This suggests a Platonist tradition about the third
man argument based, of course, on an argument in Platos Parmenides but
developed most fully in Aristotles On Forms, esp. fr. +8 R.
6.8 The ve-cause theory is labelled with the prepositional catalogue so
familiar from doxographical or scholastic texts (see D orrie-Baltes, vol. :
+ for the Platonic evidence, but see also S. E. M. +o.+o) and illustrated
with the statue example that runs through all three theories. A sixth cause
is added (novissime) in 6.8: the product of the other causes. This bafing
suggestion is summarily dismissed at the end of 6.1. Sedley :ooj: n.
considers reasons why it may have been included here by Seneca and
suggests that this is meant to be the sufcient condition (the others are
merely necessary conditions). But this is unconvincing and it may be more
economical and truer to Senecas literary character to suppose that he adds
the sixth cause in a virtually satirical spirit to underpin the resounding
conclusion of his refutation in 6.1. But see below ad loc.
6.q1o The causal theory is applied to the world, with the Timaeus
as the main reference. Note that the purpose, which is presented as an
Aristotelian contribution to the inclusive Platonic theory, plays the critical
role of providing the Demiurges motivation (his propositum is goodness;
cf. Timaeus :de). On gods natural goodness, see, e.g., q.6. Compare
also D orrie-Baltes, vol. : :o+ and Sch onegg +: ++.
Sedley :ooj: +j notes that all ve causes are to be thought of as
being implicit in the Timaeus but wonders (n. 8) at the absence of the
Phaedo from Senecas thoughts here. Given the importance of the Phaedo
in the latter half of the letter, it is worth suggesting that the immanent
cause attributed here to Aristotle (the idos) may be regarded as part of the
legacy of the Phaedo.
Given the way the Platonic theory subsumes Aristotles and Aristotles
avoids the cosmic level on which the Stoic theory works, it is natural
rr++ra j +j
to agree with Sedley :ooj and others that the Platonic and Aristotelian
theories are meant to function as a single unit. The only incompatibility
between the theories is Aristotles omission of the exemplar as a cause (that
is, the difference between the formimposed and the separate formto which
the artisan looks in creating his work). Hence, when in 6.1o Lucilius is
challenged to be a judge and decide on the three-part case before him,
his choice is among three theories, but they are not equally distinct from
each other. The choice whether to include a transcendent formal exemplar
might well matter to a Peripatetic (a point which Sedley downplays),
but from a Stoic point of view there is really only one comprehensive
alternative theory to refute. Hence in the refutation 6.111 there is no
distinction between the Peripatetics and Platonists.
6.1o We should note the Ciceronian Academic avour of the way the
question is put to Lucilius here. This ts well with the legal language
about coming to a verdict and with the Timaean associations of the eikos
muthos. In his translation of the Timaeus, however, Cicero renders the
likelihood with the term probabile rather than the term veri simile used
by Seneca in this letter and normally by Cicero, whether his intent is
to invoke Academic scepticism or the notion of plausibility (eikos) of the
rhetorical tradition.
6.11 The Stoic critique treats the Platonic and Aristotelian theories as
one: they are jointly responsible for the swarmof causes (turba causarum).
The Stoic counter-argument is dilemmatic in form. If by cause they mean
primarily the necessary condition (that which if it is removed eliminates
the effect or that which if it had not been present the effect would not
now be present), then several other things should count as causes (time,
place, motion) and the opponents have not named enough causes. On the
other hand, there is a strong intuition articulated by the Stoics (and also in
Hippias Major :ya) that the cause is some one thing that acts to produce
an effect, and by that standard the opponents have produced too many
causes. (For 6.111 see D orrie-Baltes, vol. : :j.)
For basic texts on the Stoic theory of causation, see LS jjA-I with
commentary and Frede +8o, The Original Notion of Cause. It is clear
that behind their basic notion of cause as something because of which and
through whose activity something else occurs, the Stoics also developed
a rich and complex theory of causal factors which left them open to the
rejoinder that they too posited too many causes. But here Seneca focusses
on the central Stoic insight about causation (that a single active cause does
+ cor++av
the work) and applies it primarily to causation at the cosmological level.
This sharpens the contrast with Peripatetic and Platonist theories.
There is an irony in Senecas use of the swarm criticism against
the Peripatetics and Platonists. For Alexander of Aphrodisias directs the
same kind of attack against the Stoics (sm
enos aiti
on at +:.+8 of De
Fato). Similarly in his Metaphysics commentary j:.+ Alexander uses
the phrase a swarm of substances (sm
enos ousi
enos aret
e; see
Comm. Not. +oe = SVF .+ = LS jA. Seneca again invokes the
conceptual argument: as a perfection virtue cannot vary in degree.
66.161y Argument based on the agreed characteristics of the hon-
ourable (honestum, to kalon).
contentment renders sibi placere (see OLD placeo + c). In the Bud e this
is translated la satisfaction intime. Maurach (+yo: ++) thinks that the
phrase refers to doing something with pleasure as a mark of its being
done freely. But the description just given of the accompaniments of
action (mixed with foot-dragging, complaint, hesitation, fear) shows
by itself that there is no pleasure in it and so seems to capture the
affective dimension. The resultant lack of contentment, then, seems to be
something more reective. At Med. + Ovid says that placuisse sibi can yield
a kind of pleasure, thus marking the difference between the fact of being
satised with oneself and the pleasure one takes at it. Further, sibi placere
canhave a stronglynegative sense of self-satisfaction; see 88.ywhere self-
satisfaction with ones own erudition discourages the learning of necessary
things. It seems fair, then, to conclude that contentment here is a second-
order state of mind about the conditions accompanying ones actions.
Fear is a mark of slavery because it is a concern about externals and
puts one at the mercy of others or of Fortune. Fear is a passion and absence
of it is apatheia which is the only true freedom (Bobzien +8: esp. ch.
y). Compare Cicero, Paradoxa Stoicorum j.. I discuss various aspects of
Senecas conception of freedom in Seneca on Freedom and Autonomy,
ch. ++ of Inwood :ooj.
66.1y This description of the honourable captures what Zeno meant
by the smooth ow of life (eurhoia biou, at Stobaeus, Ecl. :.yy = SVF
+.+8) and reects the universal Stoic position about the internal harmony
(homologia) of a virtuous life. Strictly speaking the honourable here
refers primarily to an individual honourable action, but since possession
+ cor++av
of virtue is a necessary condition for such an action and virtue is an
all-or-nothing state which characterizes a whole life, the characterization
of the honourable in these terms is readily understandable.
The attitude urged for the person contemplating an honourable action
is consonant with Stoic theory. The obstacles to such an action should
not be thought of as bad because they cannot in fact be bad. The only
bad things are vice and its associated states and objects, and vice (except
ones own) cannot be an obstacle to the choice of an honourable action.
On a strict version of Stoic theory, ones own vice prevents honourable
action in a decisive waya vicious person cannot act honourably. But
if Seneca is here considering an agent who falls short of virtue, and this
agent is choosing an action under the description honourable (because
he or she recognizes it as the kind of thing a virtuous agent would do in
the circumstances), then his or her own vice cannot be an obstacle taken
into account by the agent.
Rather, the obstacles considered here are (as Seneca says) dispreferred
things (pain, disease, poverty, ignominy, etc.). To interpret them as being
bad rather than merely dispreferred is the basic mistake which (as Stoics
think) characterizes unphilosophical people. See Inwood +8j: +jyj.
The preference for not suffering dispreferred things is of course quite
strong (see, e.g., 6y.). But if one regards as bad (rather than merely
dispreferred) the obstacles which must be passed through on the way to
achieving a good, then a serious problem arises. For if (as the Stoics claim)
bad is as much to be avoided as good is to be pursued, and if we have to
accept bad to attain good, then we would never rationally pursue the good.
Hence it is necessary for a happy life to become clear about the value of
indifferents; seeing that they are, in fact, indifferent makes an internally
consistent (and so a satisfying) life possible.
66.18 The Epicurean claim about torture: a number of pertinent texts
are collected as fr. o+ Usener. See esp. D.L. +o.++8, Tusc. :.+y, Fin.
:.88. Similar views were expressed by Epicurus in letters to Hermarchus
(fr. +:: Usener = Fin. :. etc.) and Idomeneus (fr. +8 Usener = D.L.
+o.::, alluded to by Seneca also at 66.y and qz.z). At Fin. j.8j the
doctrine plays a role in the debate about the tria genera bonorum envisaged
between Peripatetics and Stoics.
Here Seneca forestalls anobjectionby means of a praeteritio. Renouncing
a mere ad hominem rejoinder strengthens Senecas claim to be offering a
respectable argument. Here he also foreshadows the anti-sensualist move
at the end of the letter.
rr++ra +y
66.1qzo A nearly explicit assertion of axiological dualism; as in 66.1,
the natural preferability of some states of affairs provides a good reason for
selecting them over others which are dispreferred. Yet this does not mean
that such values are determinative of happiness (and so evaluable as good
or bad). Here too the equality of virtue is contrasted with the variability
of circumstances. Ciceros term for dispreferred (incommodum) is used
here. The examples of the light and rain in the ocean here are also
drawn from Cicero (Fin. .j, cf. j.y+; also qz., qz.1y), who illustrates
differences in kind with examples that accentuate the importance of
extreme differences in quantity. Although one might think it a confusion
to illustrate fundamental differences in quality with examples that appear
to rest on extreme differences in quantity, Seneca defends the legitimacy of
the practice in 118.1 ff. For a modern attempt to defend the conceptual
viability of the point, see S. J. Goulds Darwins Cultural Degree in
Gould :oo:: :+: A sufcient difference in quantity translates to what we
call difference in quality ipso facto.
ask me for my selection, electio is the Latin term for selection here.
66.z1 situation renders the Latin res. The argument here is based on
moral prejudice, that is, our image of what the good man will do (the basis
of which is an unargued set of popular assumptions; note that in Latin the
gendered termvir is used). One might ask why one set of unargued popular
assumptions gets preferential treatment over the so-called common sense
which is rejected (assuming that at least some peoples common sense, then
as now, would question the advisability of a suicidal devotion to carrying
out a noble deed). Perhaps the thought is that although the common-
sense intuition and the Stoic intuition disagree, Seneca and other Stoics
think that only their side is supported by arguments of independent merit.
The assumption might be thought to have some argumentative weight
when conjoined with a real argument, but the weakness displayed here
cannot be denied.
benet to himself . The good is dened as benet (D.L. y.; Sextus
M. ++.::; Stobaeus, Ecl. :., etc.); cf. y1.6, 11y.zy.
The comparison of the honourable situation to a good man is important.
We are familiar with the idea that a good person is someone to whom
ones safety can be entrusted, and Seneca invites the reader to think
of a situation as being comparable. Since the good is virtue and what
participates in virtue, and since a good person and an honourable situation
+8 cor++av
both participate in virtue, the invitation should be accepted by anyone
committed to Stoic value theory. In both cases the agent is entrusting
him- or herself to virtue in some manifestation, and it is precisely that
commitment to the good which assures the agent that he or she is doing
the right thing and so will be happy.
For the idea that virtue canassure our genuine safety, if not our physical
survival, see Gorgias j+++:. That virtue can be a source of prosperity
and other conventional goods is claimed by Socrates at Apology ob.
66.zz6 Here Seneca advances an argument which amounts to a thought
experiment based on moral sentiment.
66.zz We are asked to imagine rst how we would regard two good
men one of whomis rich and the other poor. It is uncontroversial that their
goodness will be assessed independently of their prosperity, whether one
is using a Stoic understanding of goodness or a more mundane one. Seneca
is relying on the assumption that most people (even non-Stoics) would,
no doubt, recoil from regarding a less wealthy individual as less good just
because they are less wealthy (though perhaps in doing so many would
nevertheless display the confusion of their moral concepts). Situations
that one might be in are, then, treated analogously to wealth: if wealth does
not affect goodness then neither should other situations which are extra-
neous to ones state of character. The situations adduced here are bodily
health and civic freedom. At this point in the letter an objector would have
to nd some reason for saying that these external states should be treated
differently than wealth. In 66.z Seneca directs the point to Lucilius (or
the readers) own self-assessment. We should recall that the force of this
argument rests primarily on acceptance of the sharp distinction drawn
between the value of virtue (the good) and the value of the indifferents.
66.z Another appeal to a moral intuition, coupled with a reliance
on Stoic axiology. Situations are possible objects of pursuit or avoidance,
just as friends are objects of affection. Both situations and people can
participate in virtue or fail to do so (the good is virtue or what participates
in virtue). So ones affective state with regard to friends is analogous to
ones pursuit or avoidance of a situation. Senecas argument relies on this
analogy: if one would not love a friend less on the grounds that he or she
has fewer preferred indifferents or more dispreferred indifferents, but only
on the basis of his or her virtue, then one should not choose a situation
less readily if it has fewer preferred indifferents or more dispreferred
rr++ra +
indifferents. To the extent that the analogy holds the argument is sound.
It is assumed, of course, that the agent considering the situations and
the friends is acting on the basis of Stoic values and so considers the
indifferents in a separate calculus from the one used with regard to good
and bad things. A Stoic might think that a Peripatetic agent would be
liable to fail to keep these considerations distinct.
In 66.z a soritical (little by little, kata mikron) argument is exploited
rhetorically. Consideration of extrinsic factors such as bodily or social
condition could, at the limit, lead to a preference for one friend over
another on the basis of a hair style. Again, however, the legitimacy of
the argument rests upon acceptance of the fundamental dualism of Stoic
value theory. Hence at the end of 66.z a distinction is drawn between
things which are parts of a good state of affairs and those which are mere
adjuncts to it (the indifferents). (At y.1y such things are called mancipia,
possessions, rather than parts of us.)
The claim that the inequality of extrinsic factors disappears (non
comparet) or has no weight on decisions once virtue-considerations have
been equalized needs clarication. Seneca claims, in effect, that when
choosing between two equally virtuous situations one has no reason to
prefer the one endowed with more preferred indifferentsbut on Stoic
theory that is precisely where one does exercise the preference for things
according to nature. If a life of virtue plus health is set beside a life of
virtue plus sickness, then it accords with nature to choose the package
that contains health. But it is a mistake to choose the healthy package on
the understanding that it is better than the alternative, and this is Senecas
point here. His central goal in this letter is to drive home the difference
between the two kinds of value (good and bad vs. the indifferents) and not
to explicate the ways one would in fact make practical choices between
situations that differ only with regard to their indifferent adjuncts. Yet
in this section he has certainly overstated the conclusion of his soritical
line of argument in a way that might easily mislead the reader.
This passage is highly reminiscent of De Finibus j.y+, where ne cer-
nantur quidem corresponds to non comparet here and the term accessiones
(adjuncts) is also found, used in the same sense as in this passage of
Seneca (for all these other things are not parts but adjuncts). Ciceros
Peripatetic spokesman is arguing that although external goods count
towards the happiest life, their signicance is vanishingly small compared
to that of virtue. If one compares De Finibus .j it seems that Cicero
brings the Stoic and Peripatetic/Antiochean positions astonishingly close
togethera move which suits Ciceros agenda, as it does also in the
+yo cor++av
De Ofciis. Senecas interest as a Stoic is in emphasizing more aggressively
the distance between his position and Ciceros.
everything within himself . This is reminiscent of the anecdote about
Stilpo (q.181q, Const. Sap. j. and fragment +j+ D oring) who, when
deprived of all external goods, said I have lost nothing; all my goods are
with me. Compare also z.1o, .q.
66.z6 Our attachment to virtue has been compared to our attachment to
friends; the comparison is extended to children. External factors would
not affect our equal attachment to our children; the claim (whether
plausible or not) that animals behave this way as well is intended to show
that this is a completely natural inclination, not a product of contestable
cultural forces. In fact, the example of our attitude to our children is
itself intended to strengthen the analogy with friends against a possible
reply that we do not or should not treat friends equally regardless of their
external characteristics. Whatever view one might take of friends, the
Stoics claimed that parental attachment to ones children as such is a basic
and ineradicable afliation (oikei
osis;
Homeric precedent secures the claim about love for ones homeland.
Claranus case works the same waythe admirable quality of his life is
rr++ra +y+
certainly not due to his external bodily condition. Hence his suitability as
a focus for the discussion of externals in relation to virtue.
66.zy What is the relevance of this? As often, a rhetorical question
about the purpose of the discussion articulates the letter and guides the
reader to focus on the main issue. At 8.z and 6.1 the call to return
to relevance articulates the letter in a similar way, but here there is no
change of topic, since the discussion has been of relevance to choices and
behaviour throughout. (I thank Gur Zak for rst making this point.) The
articulation, then, draws attention to the thematic difference between 66
and (at the least) its immediate predecessor 6.
Here Seneca raises a crucial question about the attitudes one should
have towards unfortunate situations. Virtue is compared to a parent and
in both cases there is a tension between the strict equality of evaluation
(children in the literal case; actions, people, and situations in the case of
virtue) and the inequality of the affective relationship to the dependents.
The unfortunate evoke a greater warmth and care, perhaps, than do the
fortunatedespite their equal value. (Seneca uses different words for the
equal and the unequal responses to ones children: cherishing (diligere) in
66.z6 and love (amor) in 66.zy. Although Senecas intention is clear, these
terms do not seem sufciently distinct to express his meaning properly.)
This raises a more general issue about Senecas treatment of the indiffer-
ents. He is often thought to have an inappropriately or unjustiably strong
attraction for unfortunate circumstances, especially death. His apparently
positive valuation of dispreferred things seems to betray inuences from
Platonist or Pythagorean thought that are in conict with earlier and
mainstream Stoicism, or to indicate features of Senecas personality which
inuence his philosophical views without rational warrant. But often the
motivation for the positive valuation is in fact articulated and reasonable:
negative circumstances are more valuable for training ones character and
reection on them helps one to discern core Stoic values (such as the
commitment to axiological dualism) more clearly. Here there is a further
consideration. Having used the analogy with parental love to support his
claims about virtue (or the virtuous agent) Seneca deals forthrightly with
a relevant feature of the analogue. Parents, even those who value their
children equally, often do experience a difference in their affective and
motivational relationships to their children. Given the Stoic commitment
to a cognitive account of affective states, there should be a statable reason
for such a discrepancy and Seneca here proposes one: there is a kind of
compensatory pity for the weaker offspring. In addition to being a frank
+y: cor++av
and plausible account of a signicant affective phenomenon, this both
blocks a possible objection based on the analogy (someone might say that it
is false that parents value their children equally if they did not distinguish
between the equal valuation and the affective discrepancy) and contributes
to an account of the occasional and otherwise puzzling sense that tough
circumstances are somehow better.
66.z8 A return to the argument based on the absolute nature of the
concept. Fitting (aptum), at (in a geometrical sense), and equal are all
predicates which apply absolutely or not at all. Hence they establish that
such concepts exist. Honourable is asserted to be a concept of this type.
66.zq The equality of all the virtues (that is, of all forms of the
honourable) entails that the tria genera bonorum (see above on 66.6)
are on an equal footing (in aequo). This does not mean that one has
to have a relationship identical in all respects to goods bundled with
preferred things and goods bundled with dispreferred things; there is
room for differences in our evaluation of the bundle, differences based on
the selective value of the indifferences in the bundle. Being on an equal
footing does mean that one would not make choices or value judgements
on the basis of the circumstances in which virtue is exercised. The goods
which are choiceworthy are the ones in favourable circumstances; the
admirable ones are in unfavourable circumstances (the goods of the rst
two types distinguished in 66.).
Again the Ciceronian term incommodum is used for dispreferred things
and as above the language of quantity intrudes (see on 66.1qzo). Oblit-
erated is perhaps an overtranslation for tegitur, which could literally be
rendered covered over or concealed. I take it, though, that Seneca
means to emphasize that the dispreferred aspects of a situation cease to
affect ones assessment of it or decision about itthey become invisible
to the decision context without actually becoming non-existent.
66.o Seneca explains how people come to the mistaken view about the
importance of indifferents. It is a matter of which aspect of a situation
they direct their gaze to. The unimportance of externals for our decisions
about right action is illustrated with a metaphor based on physical objects.
Weight counts, volume does not. And volume can, by its supercial
appearance, mislead us about weight. The idea that good decisions about
values and actions are based on a kind of accurate measurement goes
back at least to Platos Protagoras. But volume is not being dismissed as
rr++ra +y
an unreal property of objects; it is merely irrelevant to the assessment
of their weight, and in that sense it misleads if it is misused. For the
metaphor, cf. q..
66.1 The valuations of reason in contrast to the reckless judgements
of popular opinion. The latter are misevaluations of externals as though
they were good or bad and so are the cause of passions (cf. q1.1qz1).
Thinking that a dispreferred indifferent is bad will generate the passion
fear (see Inwood +8j: ch. j). Valuations made by reason are stable and so
form a proper basis for long-term decisions. The equation of misguided
and passionate humans to animals is a common oversimplication (see also
y., for example). Strictly speaking, non-rational animals cannot make
such evaluations and so do not have real passions. Their fear is not the real
thing. See Tusc. .+ and Inwood +8j: y:, +oo; also Seneca, De Ira +..
66.z Moral misevaluations are connected to passions: excites renders
diffundit, which corresponds roughly to the Greek term eparsis (irrational
elevation is a description of the passion pleasure); depresses renders
mordet, which might more literally be translated bites. Bite (the Greek
term is d
e) or similar psychological
states. See Tusc. .8 and Inwood +8j: +y8 with notes; also Graver :oo::
+:y. Such passions are transient as opposed to permanent. Senecas views
here about the relationship between passions and axiology are standard
Stoic doctrine.
66.z Two themes emerge here: the relationship between reason and
the senses (commanding and obedience) and the claim that reason is
an invariant limiting concept like virtue itself (see above). The identity
between virtue and straight reason (recta ratio, more often translated
right reason) is asserted. Seneca seems to be saying that what is truly,
i.e., normatively, reason is straight reason. But straight is an invariant
concept. So reason is also like thatbut only in its proper (normative)
form. What this approach implicitly leaves out of consideration is an
empirical or descriptive account of how reason operates which would
leave room for a state of the soul which is treated as genuine reason but
which admits of variation of competence and defect. The omission is
perhaps justiable because Seneca is only considering cases of virtuous
action (the honourable) and virtue is by denition perfected reason.
rm in its judgement. See esp. y1.z, q.y. I comment further on this
in Moral Judgement in Seneca, ch. y of Inwood :ooj.
+y cor++av
66. This is a theoretically crucial move. What an action is is
determined by the reasoning and state of mind which generates it. (This
is a feature of earlier Stoic theory of action as well: see Inwood +8j:
+o+, :++.) The raw material and other extrinsic factors do not
determine the essential evaluative characteristics of an action. See above
on materia. Note the care taken by Seneca to restrict his claims about the
sameness of actions to a precisely relevant aspect. It is qua honourable and
virtuous that the actions are equal; it is only what is best in actions which
is equal. The same point is made in 66. in the analogy with good men:
it is only with regard to that in virtue of which they are good that they are
equal. (This is a close analogy, since actions and agents are participants
in virtuegood is virtue and what participates in itand the argument
for equality rests entirely on the features of the virtue they participate in.)
See above on 66.zz6.
66. Here Seneca focusses on the defects of the senses when considered
as makers of value judgements and the ability of reason to do the job well.
It is noteworthy that Seneca provides a justication for putting reason in
charge of signicant value judgements. The general eudaimonist project
in ethics involves making plans for a whole life and the Stoic version
of it puts a high value on internal consistency within that whole-life
plan. It is in this context that one judges what is useful and (since good
is understood Socratically as genuine utility) good. The faculty which
makes such judgements must, then, be able not only to discern utility
but also to handle past and present in conjunction with the present and
the relationships of consequence and causation that obtain among them.
Seneca claims (cf. 1z.z, 1z.161y) that sense perception cannot
do that and that reason can. Hence it is the arbiter of what is good
and bad and can recognize, on the basis of a diachronic understanding
of what is useful over a whole life, that the good is within the mind
and that things outside the mind are at best marginal adjuncts to a
successful life.
66.6y It being established that reason is in charge of making such
judgements, Seneca repeats the judgements that reason reaches. The
goods considered here are actions and situations engaged in by virtuous
agents (otherwise we would not be considering goodsgood is virtue or
what participates in virtue). All three genera are invoked here, but the
main contrast is between the primary and secondary types as outlined
above. The third kind of goods, actions (such as walking and sitting in
rr++ra +yj
the virtuous way), undertaken by a virtuous person, are also mentioned.
At 66. it was not emphasized that the actions considered (walking
and sitting) are in themselves completely indifferent. But here Seneca
asserts pointedly that such conventional actions are no more natural
than unnatural. The contrast between sitting and orderly sitting and
between walking and prudent walking draws attention to the fact
that they are goods only because they are done in a virtuous manner.
In contrast to the absolute indifference of the third type of goods, the
rst type is preferred (the underlying action is according to nature)
and the second type is dispreferred (contrary to nature). Hence the
innovative threefold classication of goods introduced in this letter is
here mapped precisely onto the threefold classication of indifferents:
preferred, dispreferrred, absolute.
For further discussion see Rules and Reasoning in Stoic Ethics,
ch. of Inwood :ooj. For the contrast between preferred/dispreferred
indifferents and absolute indifferents, see D.L. y.+o and CHHP oy.
66.8 By way of objection and response, Seneca explicates the
contrast between what is according to nature in the strong sense (virtue)
and indifferents which can be according to nature or in conict with
nature in a weaker sense. The contrast here is built on the distinction
drawn earlier in the letter between the material or circumstances of a good
and the good itself. In 66.8 the contrast is made between the good itself
(which cannot be contrary to nature) and the circumstances in which the
good arises. Several themes here are found also in ..
In 66.q the impossibility of conict between a good and nature is
explained with reference to reason. A genuine good involves reason and
reason cannot conict with nature. The reason why reason cannot conict
with nature is that human reason is an imitation of nature, in the sense
that when it is functioning properly our reason tracks or is responsive
to nature (literally, follows it). This view is tenable because nature is
equated with perfected reason operating in the world and because human
reason and cosmic reason are held to be qualitatively identical. Hence the
greatest human good (summum bonum, the topic of Ciceros De Finibus),
which is the perfection of his characteristic attribute, reason, can properly
be glossed as comporting oneself in accordance with the will of nature.
For the idea of the will of nature see Inwood +8j: :y, y+, ++:o,
+o, :oj, :o8, :+:.
In 66.o the objector (who need not be an Epicureanany support-
er of common sense against Stoic revisionism would make the same
+y cor++av
point) attempts an inference from the uncontroversial claim that pre-
ferred indifferents such as stable peace and unthreatened good health
are happier states of affairs to the conclusion that they are the occasion
for greater goods. By using the term felicior for happier the objector
perhaps appeals to eudaimonistic intuitions, but Seneca is careful to
put in the objectors mouth a term not usually applied to happiness
in the eudaimonistic sense; normally Seneca uses beatitudo for this con-
cept, though in 1z.z he plays with the terms when he advances the
paradox that only the most unhappy are truly happy (infelicissimos esse
felices).
The rebuttal in 66.1 rests on the distinction between states of affairs
that are subject to chance and those that are not. Fortuita admit of wide
variation in character; what they are like depends on how they are used by
agents who embrace them (note that sumere is the usual Latin term for
selection). A good agent can use externals well and a bad agent will use
them badly. See D.L. y.+o on the Socratic use argument (comparing
Meno 8yc-88e, Euthydemus :8oc-:8:a) and Annas +b, esp. p. jj. But
goods (that is, states of affairs shaped by virtue) have a single point or
goal, agreement with Nature.
Agreement is then shown to be another concept, like straight, at,
true and so forth, that is absolute and does not admit of degree. In the
Senate one does not vote for a proposal partially (Roman senators voted
by indicating agreement with a proposal); every yes vote counts the same
despite the circumstances which might have inuenced it (one can imagine
that some votes are cast reluctantly, half-heartedly, under compulsion,
etc., but they still count). Since that is the character of agreement, it is
also true that all virtues agree with nature in the same univocal way; and
so too all goods (that is, agents and situations characterized by virtue)
agree with nature equally.
66.z The example of death is offered as a parallel for the uniformity
of goodsa deliberately piquant analogy. There is enormous variation in
the manner and circumstances of death. But the outcome is undeniably
uniform. Here Seneca allows himself and his readers the pleasure of a
certain expatiation on the theme of deaths equality. Compare NQ .:.
When Seneca raises the prospect of dying amidst physical pain and
deformity (note the arthritic torture of 66.) we are meant to recall
Claranus misfortune, the very dispreferred circumstance which inspired
the discussion of the letter. For the prospect of intended humour in this
passage, see Mark Grant :ooo: :.
rr++ra +yy
66. In a concluding paragraph Seneca summarizes the similarities
between death and the good. The image of the path helps to make the
point that the circumstances are distinct from the virtuous state of the
agent (path: traveller :: circumstances: agent).
66.8 Having concluded his main argument, Seneca turns to out-
anking the Epicureans. The key move is to argue that the Epicurean
conception of the good (see, e.g., D.L. +o.:8) has the same structure as
does the Stoic conception of the good. The Epicurean theory posits an
absolute limit to pleasure (removal of all pain) in contrast to the possibility
of variation which does not, however, increase ones happiness. This is
meant to be comparable to the Stoic good in contrast to the variable
circumstances of the indifferents. This argument for the essential simi-
larity of Epicurean and Stoic axiology is important, since it captures what
many critics have sensed about the theories and shows how a sense of the
similarity between the theories might be strengthened misleadingly by
its emergence from a dialectical situation rather than from a similarity of
underlying theoretical motivation.
66.y Again Seneca invokes the Letter to Idomeneus (cf. above at 66.18)
to undermine an Epicureans ability to object to the counter-intuitive
aspects of the Stoic position. Compare Ciceros translation of this part of
the Letter to Idomeneus at Fin. :.. Senecas use of the Epicurean letter is
far more sympathetic than Ciceros and his paraphrase may be compared
with Ciceros translation in direct discourse. I thank Austin Busch for the
observations on this point.
But we should not forget that there are crucial differences between
Stoic and Epicurean theory (as the hyperbolic conclusion of this letter
will emphasize, 66.q). These derive from divergent views about
nature and from the deprecation of the senses which Seneca builds on
throughout the letter. Further, in 66.y which deals with Epicurus
death-bed pain, Seneca makes it clear that Epicurus does no more than
passively endure pain, while Mucius Scaevola (66.1) actively pursues
pain in the service of his country. Seneca does not fully develop the
differences here in 66.8, since his argument is aimed at neutralizing
possible Epicurean objections by co-opting them though concentration
on similiarites (above Seneca pointedly refrained from using the bull of
Phalaris against Epicurus).
But in 66.q the point is different. Here Seneca goes on the
offensive to say that he can imagine a case in which he would prefer
+y8 cor++av
hardship. No Epicurean argument could yield this conclusion since it
undermines the basic premises of Epicurean moral argument and also
rejects the ultimate foundation of his theory of virtue (pleasure as the
basic value). But the Stoic theory is different since there at least can be
an argument in favour of embracing and valuing physical pain. Perhaps,
then, this conclusion can be explained in part as a product of temporary
argumentative zeal rather than as a considered departure from earlier
Stoic value theory. For an approximation of this view in earlier Stoicism,
see Musonius Rufus, Discourse + section j; Musonius tells the story of
a Spartan boy who asked Cleanthes whether pain might not be a good
rather than a mere indifferent. (Cf. D.L. y.+y:, SVF +.++. Compare
8z.1z where Seneca himself expresses a preference for having things go
badly (male) in a conventional sense than softly (molliter); also Prov. ,
Const. Sap. j..)
66.q The nal argument of the letter, which turns on the anecdote
of Mucius Scaevola. Seneca had already dealt with this at z., where it is
characterized as one of the stock narratives of the rhetorical schools (z.6);
the story is told in Livy :.+:+. This section is just as much an appendix
as is 66.8. Seneca proposes to offer a justication for having a personal
preference for virtuous actions (goods) in difcult situations like that of
Claranus over virtuous actions in favourable situations. He is thinking,
no doubt, of his own situation: a comfortable old age amidst wealth and
leisure. See also I. Hadot +: ++8+.
Several points need to be emphasized. First, the role of Claranus in
the letter is important to understanding this conclusion. This letter is
presented to us as an account of discussion with a person whose physical
torments coexist with good character. Claranus torments have been
brought back to the readers mind at 66.; and in fact 66.z on death
also returns our thoughts to the two old men whose discussion is being
related to Lucilius. It is highly appropriate for Seneca to conclude this
letter with a line of thought which would have consoled Claranus. Seneca,
himself not aficted as Claranus is, obviously concluded his conversation
with an argument and an example which would remind him of his own
heroism and the moral value of brave endurance. If there is rhetorical
excess here, excess which almost violates Stoic doctrine, it is the excess
characteristic of the consolatory genre. And if there is rhetorical excess,
we should also bear in mind Senecas life-long weakness for bold and
dramatic overstatement.
rr++ra +y
Second, Seneca offers this conclusiontentatively. He asks for permission
from Lucilius; he marks this as a somewhat bold line of argument; and he
makes it clear that the point he advances is personal rather than part of
the inter-school debate he has just concluded.
Third, the entire line of argument is explicitly counter-factual. The
verb tenses in 66.q make that clear and Seneca is emphatic that what he
is about to say is what he would have said and would have preferred if
there could be any difference among the goods.
Nevertheless, although Seneca has been careful to bracket out this
conclusion so as to maintain orthodoxy on the main point of the letter, it
remains to be asked whether there is a philosophical (rather than a literary)
motivation for this undeniably dramatic and excessive conclusion. I think
there is a philosophical point to be made, and it is meant to be Senecas
own (this too is the effect of the bracketing at 66.q).
His claim is that demolishing hardships is something grander than
merely managing good fortune, despite the fact that the reason used in
the two situations is identical, as is the resultant courage of the two
hypothetical soldiers he considers (66.o). But of the two soldiers, only
one is hailed by his fellow soldiers for his accomplishments. Seneca says
that this is why he personally would praise the one more than the other. No
doubt he has in mind a point with which Aristotle would agree, that there
ought to be something to be learned from the moral intuitions of ones
fellow human beings, even if those intuitions are in need of renement
and cannot be criterial in ethical debate. So there is some merit in what
soldiers do when they congratulate the wounded hero. In 66.1 the more
dramatic (and uncontroversial, for Roman society) example of Mucius
Scaevola is adduced as one which Seneca cannot help but praise despite
its gruesome and self-destructive character.
In 66.z Seneca goes so far as to say that he might want to reclassify
Mucius case (which ought to be a good of the second category) into
the rst category, the ones which one would want even in unconstrained
circumstances. (This would not, of course, make it a greater good, but
would make it more choiceworthywhich is the main point of the claim
at 66.q that he would have preferred the harsher option. Perhaps the
references to greater goods mean no more than this in the end.) The
objector (Lucilius, rather than the anonymous of 66.o) is naturally
incredulous that such a painful good would be chosen. In reply Seneca
asks which he should choose if he had to choose between Mucius
circumstances and the pampered situation of a wealthy noble getting a
+8o cor++av
manicure in his boudoir (the corruption of an aristocratic lifestyle is nicely
elaborated).
Such a deed cannot be done by anyone who cannot also wish for it. It
is not clear whether this is hyperbole or a principle of moral psychology
which Seneca would maintain consistently. If the latter, then it seems
dubious or vacuous. If Seneca claims that someone who will do x in
given circumstances must be such as to be able to wish to do it in those
same circumstances, then it is vacuous. But if his claim is that someone
who will do x in given circumstances must be such as to wish to do it
regardless of circumstances or such as to wish for the circumstances in
which the doing of this action is what he would wish, then his claim is both
implausible (no reason being offered in support of it) and unnecessary
to the larger case he wishes to argue. I am inclined, then, to take this as
hyperbole.
To see how this passage is meant to address the issue at hand, we
must assume that the hypothetical Seneca choosing between the two
situations is a good man (otherwise we would not be discussing the
issue at hand, goodness in the context of favourable or unfavourable
circumstances). In the manicure situation, several signs point to an
unnatural context: sexually dissolute adult males (sex toys) or eunuchs
are imagined as manipulating the noblemans hands and there is no
social function for the activity. In the Mucius scenario there is such a
functionthe salvation of the homeland, one of the primary goods
at 66.and language which suggests restitution of natural order
(he restored to integrity everything which had gone astray). Senecas
point, then, is that if forced to choose between these two scenarios
he would not hesitate to choose the Mucius scenario. The philosoph-
ical reason for this seems to rest primarily on the positive valuation
of social intuitions (66.o above), but also to rely on features of the
two scenarios which characterize the one as natural and the other as
unnatural. Despite the assumed equal merit of the agent, there would
be (if possible) a greater good in aligning oneself with nature; certain-
ly the unpleasant situation would be one more worth choosing in the
circumstances.
The conclusion to the letter is consistent with mainstream Stoic theory
and with the rest of the letter. But it is nevertheless an extravagance
provoked and justied primarily by the situation of the letter as a report
of the discussion with the unfortunate Claranus.
rr++ra +8+
66. previous errors. Among other things, an allusion to the fact that
Mucius was captured only after he had failed to assassinate the enemy
king because he couldnt recognize him and killed the wrong man.
conquered two kings. One was the Etruscan king Lars Porsenna, so
impressed by Scaevolas courage that he left Rome in peace, and the other
(probably) Tarquin the Proud, the expelled Etruscan king of Rome whom
Porsenna supported.
GROUP :
(LETTERS y+ AND y)
Following on the themes of 66, y1 is the rst of a trio of letters dealing
explicitly with Stoic value theory (y1, y, y6). Several themes dominate:
the difference between good and bad on the one hand and indifferents
on the other; the equality of all goods; and the sufciency of virtue for
happiness. Due to limitations of space, y is not translated or discussed
in detail in this collection. Where relevant, y will be invoked in the
discussion of y1 and y6. On the grouping of letters y1 through y6 see
Cancik +y: +j, esp. :y, and Maurach +yo: +yj, esp. +j: (where
he emphasizes the close linkage of y1 to 66), +j, and +o+ which conrm
the interconnections of y1, y, and y6. On y1 itself see also Hengelbrock
:ooo: jyy. Despite a number of useful observations, Hengelbrocks
analysis is limited by his narrow focus on the problem of prokop
e and
his readiness to conclude that the letter is not grounded in theory and
persuasive primarily due to its steadfast repetition and rhetorical slickness
(yj). A philosophically charitable reading, however, reveals arguments of
considerable interest.
One interesting feature of y is its uncharacteristic emphasis on the
value of believing in the central axiological theses rather than proving them
(though there is a signicant amount of argument in the letter, exhortation
is commoner); this is signalled in y.1, the most important means to the
attainment of the happy life is the conviction ( persuasio) that the only good
is what is honourable. Taken on its own this might suggest that Seneca
is interested primarily in the benets of coming to hold Stoic beliefs and
less in the proofs for those beliefs. y6 will provide a corrective for this;
at y6.y Seneca registers Lucilius dissatisfaction with earlier treatments of
the claim that only the honourable is good (the claim is merely approved
and not properly proven) and this refers primarily to y; at y6.z6 Seneca
refers back to a single letter, which must be y. y1 focusses more on the
equality of all goods (following very closely on 66), but Seneca may also
have it in mind to some extent in his complaint at y6.y.
rr++ra y+ +8
Commentary on y+
Thematic division
+: Advice and the value of having a goal of life.
j: The Stoic goal (highest good): the honourable.
y: Defence of the Stoic position against the criticism of being
unrealistic.
8++: The example of Cato when the Civil War was lost.
+:+: Cosmological considerations and transience.
+j+: Implications of this for whole-life planning.
+y:o: The equality of all goods.
:+: Raising the anteon the offensive against common sense.
:y8: The natural limitations of human beings.
:j: Progress towards wisdom.
y: Closing exhortation.
y1.1 An apparently casual opening (Lucilius is in Sicily) disguises an
important point about practical reasoning and moral deliberation. Advice
on matters of moral or practical signicance (not sharply separable for
most ancient philosophers) is focussed on particular situations, delimited
by time and place. Together these make up the circumstances Seneca
refers to, but his main emphasis here is on temporal specicity. This is
linked to Senecas recurrent emphasis on the mutability of human affairs
(cf. the Heraclitean remarks in 6); here the words for ux are feruntur,
volvuntur. Cosmological perspectives are invoked again at y1.1z16 below.
See also Senecas remarks on the specicity of practical advice at yo.11;
compare also zz.1.
But practical advice, though highly specic, will not be unstructured.
y1.z balances the emphasis on particularity with a statement of a central
claim of ancient eudaimonism, that having a single goal for ones life is
a necessary condition for success. Stoics put particular emphasis on the
claim that the goal (telos) is that by reference to which or for the sake of
which we decide what to do and what to choose (Stobaeus, Ecl. :..j+o;
:.y.:+; :.yy.++). Seneca takes up this theme again quite forcefully
at q.6. The examples used here in y1.z are interesting. The painter
example suggests that the telos to which we refer all choices and decisions
is rather like the Platonic paradigmto which an artisan looks (8.1qz1; cf.
6.yq, 6.1). In fact, practical reason is understood as a techn
e tou biou.
The example of sailing is a clich e in the tradition as well (it is repeated
at q.). Finally, the language of targets and archery is traditional. For
+8 cor++av
just one example of the idea in Plato, see skopos at Gorgias joyd. In a text
central to the eudaimonistic tradition in ancient moral theory, EN +.+,
Aristotle argued that there is a single goal (telos) in practical affairs and
that knowing that goal has a major impact on our ability to live our lives
successfully, like archers with a target (skopos) to aim at (see esp. +oa
::). The image was also exploited by Panaetius (fr. +o van Straaten
= Stobaeus, Ecl. :..:.+:); see also Ecl. :.y.8+o and Cicero, De
Finibus .::. A general account of the idea of a target in Stoicism can be
found in Alpers-G olz +y; see also Inwood +8. The use of the archer
image here is not identical to any of the others.
Whether or not Seneca was thinking directly of the Platonic or Aris-
totelian passages, he will certainly have had in mind Cicero, De Finibus
.::, where the example of an archer or spear-thrower is used to explain
how Stoic eudaimonism is meant to work: our ultimate goal in life is to
be a virtuous person, which involves a series of immediate aims to achieve
preferred indifferents in the manner appropriate to a virtuous person;
that means that one may achieve the overall goal even while failing with
respect to the immediate aim, yet the immediate aim would be mean-
ingless except in the context of the larger project of living a successful
life.
There is a rich literature on this aspect of Stoic ethics; the best starting
point is Striker +8, although Long +y is still indispensable. Basic texts
and discussion at LS .
purpose translates propositum, behind which lies the Greek term
prokeimenon. See also 6.1o, 66.6, 66.1, 8.z, q.6, 1zz..
Similarly, note at the end of y1.z the part/whole distinction as fun-
damental to the eudaimonistic critique of normal human failingsmost
people fail to think about their lives as a whole, concentrating instead
on various partial perspectives. This idea is highlighted by Annas +a:
chapter +, Making Sense of My Life as a Whole.
y1. emphasizes howchance gains power in human life through our own
failure to have a single point of reference. It is the failure of our planning
which leaves us open to variability and the blows of fortune. Hence the
focus on chance and fortune in Seneca is readily connected to some
central themes of eudaimonism. His constant emphasis on fortune as an
external and disruptive force, an enemy to reason, follows plausibly from
the fact that contingencies only gain power over our lives if we fail to take
control of them by planning with an eye to our overall goal in life.
rr++ra y+ +8j
y1. many words or a roundabout path. At Republic jode Socrates
declines to give a direct account of the good, saying that it would be too
lengthy a job to give even a statement of his own view (
). That an explication of the good is a long and roundabout path is a
reminiscence of Socrates remarks at Republic jocd. Senecas Stoic view
is that the idea of the good requires no transcendent metaphysical claims
of a Platonic sort. Nevertheless, as other letters indicate (see especially
1zo), Seneca is well aware that the full Stoic theory of the good is far from
straightforward.
y1. After situating his views within a general eudaimonistic frame-
work, Seneca turns to the distinctively Stoic view. The telos is identied
as the honourable and nothing else, but rst an epistemological question
is addressed. We have within us the idea of the honourable as the (highest
and only) good, but we often do not knowit. This does not commit Seneca
to the existence of innate concepts, but it does remind us of the central
importance of prol
e, materia) for
virtue, attributable to Chrysippus (Plutarch, Comm. Not. +oe = LS
jA). This is an assertion of Stoic value theory. The value of any situation
is determined by the presence or absence of virtue in the agent, not by the
circumstances which are the raw material for the agents action.
rr++ra y+ +j
y1.zz The reply to the aggressive common-sense objection is an ad
hominemchallenge: they are projecting fromtheir ownconditionanddo not
have an objective basis for their assessment of what is reasonable. Above,
however, Seneca has argued for a conceptual point. If we admit that virtue
is a measure then it must have the characteristics of a measure. That kind
of argument has a broader reach than the inevitably subjective procedure
of judging values by ones own current inclinations and intuitions. The
fact that people are affected by the inspiration of exemplary characters
(inspired by the beauty of an honourable deed at y1.1q; cf. 1zo.) is
of interest here. The fact that historical exempla have this motivational
impact is evidence that even non-philosophers have implicit commitments
to values which conict with other values we hold explicitly. This
suggests that the proper role of historical exempla might be to provide a
counterweight to ones own short-sighted assessments and to expand the
range of experience that goes into ones thinking about values.
y1.z The fact that peoples failings and limitations are so variable is
meant to reveal the need for a kan
esis is
accompanied by s
ophrosun
e: phron
ophrosun
e.
b. Broad: self-control is the disposition of managing ones feelings
and reactions in such a manner that they are obedient to the
deliberations and commands of practical reason. Given that reasons
output is maximally consistent and that self-control rules out failures
of obedience to reasons consistent commands, it is reasonable to
conclude that steadfastness results from it.
c. Narrow, d. narrow: Stoicism presupposes that affective responses
are completely determined by ones rational evaluations, so that a
wise person would never be sad about his own all-things-considered
assessment of what to do or how to react to things. Hence on a
narrow Stoic view this inference goes through. But on a broad
understanding of what is involved in disturbance or sadness, it is
perfectly reasonable to be disturbed or sad about even the best
::: cor++av
possible set of circumstances and actions. Undisturbed alludes to
the Epicurean perspective (see below). Disturbance also forms a
useful bridge to the issue of sadness.
e. Narrow, possibly equivocal. The sense of sadness is narrow (see
above), but in addition the inference from freedom from sadness
to happiness relies on a narrow understanding of the nature of a
happy life, since it would be open to reasonable people to hold that
a life which is happy as a whole might nevertheless be marred by
a drop of sadness here or there. If the inference is meant to work
primarily because of the opposition between sad and happy, then
equivocation underlies it, since the meaning of happy involved in
a eudaimonistic assessment of a good life is wider than and perhaps
independent of the affective notion of happiness to which sadness
is the natural contrary.
Hence, as stated, the Stoic chain syllogism is highly vulnerable to Peri-
patetic criticism, principally on the grounds that some terms are being
used in an idiosyncratic Stoic sense.
8. The Peripatetic response turns on taking the Stoic negations (e.g.,
undisturbed) in a weaker sense than is intended in the Stoic syllogism;
undisturbed means not very disturbed and not very often. The reason
given for taking the terms in this sense is that human nature cannot achieve
the Stoic standard of complete absence of disturbance (for the denial of
human nature cf. y1.6.) Dialectically this amounts to insisting on a broad
understanding of all the terms in the chain syllogism and objecting to the
Stoics use of their own stipulated meanings for the terms. This would
certainly keep the argument closer to common sense. Equivocation and
question-begging would be avoided, but the cost to the Stoics would be
high: the Stoics would not get their argument for the thesis that virtue is
sufcient for happiness unless happiness were understood as a condition
that admits of variation of degree. The view that happiness admits of
variations in degree is advanced against the Stoics in Fin. j by a
Peripatetic spokesman.
8. Ladas. A famous runner: Paus. :.+.y, 8.+:.j.
She might zoom. Camillathe quotation is from Vergil, Aeneid
y.8o8++.
Seneca argues against the broad (and weak) Peripatetic interpretation,
saying that it leaves us with an ideal of moderated passions rather than
rr++ra 8j ::
freedom from passions. There seem to be two main points in Senecas
response: (+) that it is possible to assess properties like health, swiftness,
and moral stability on a non-comparative basis ( per se aestimata) even
though there are apparently degrees in such properties; (:) the Peripatetics
set their ideal of human happiness too low. The rst point echoes Ciceros
Cato at Fin. . and coheres with the central thesis of Stoic value theory,
that there is a kind of value which must be measured in its own right and
not by comparison with indifferents. This thesis is meant to hold even
where there appears to be a continuity between the two kinds of value.
Ciceros example of light reects this ambiguity well: the suns brightness
is incommensurable with the brightness of a candle and in fact is meant to
be different in kind, yet both are forms of light. Similarly, the goodness of
virtue and the goodness of preferred indifferents are incommensurable,
yet both are positive values in human life. In each case the Stoics maintain
that one important feature of the difference in values is that no amount
of the latter can add up to the former. See Fin. .j. At . Ciceros
Cato says that the honourable is worth more ( pluris) than the preferred
indifferentsanother example of comparative language used to indicate
what is meant to be a difference inkind. See further discussionat 66.1qzo.
The charge that Peripatetics set their ideal for happiness too low is
reected in the charge that the superiority of a wise person (the only happy
person) becomes trivial if it is merely superior on a common scale and
not categorically different from other positive values. Hence the appeal
of the comparison to sickness (the example here is fever, any degree of
which counts as illness). For the Stoics (as for Plato in the Republic) the
comparisons of virtue to health and vice to sickness are taken seriously.
Cicero translates pathos as morbus (sickness) at Fin. .j and elsewhere
and at least fromChrysippus onwards the health/sickness model had been
taken for granted in Stoic moral psychology (e.g., Tusc. .o, Stobaeus, Ecl.
:.:.:o.j; for its Chrysippean origin see Galen, On Hippocrates and
Platos Doctrines j.:.y =LS jR=SVF .y+, y+a). It was, of course,
highly reminiscent of Platos comparison of justice in the soul and health
in the Republic, though Chrysippus had reinterpreted the comparison to
cohere with Stoic conceptions of the souls structure. Health, as a state
of balance (summetria), is a perfection or completion, an all-or-nothing
condition of the body. Any other bodily state is some degree of sickness
and so unsuitable as an ideal.
8. The language usedfor disturbance inthe soul is alsofoundinCicero:
compare inperturbatus here and perturbatio at Fin. .j and elsewhere.
:: cor++av
The Peripatetic objection is restated. It turns on offering the Stoics
their own understanding of undisturbed and supporting it with an
example of a negation in natural language which indicates not complete
but relative absence of somethingseedless fruit is an example we
can still appreciate (though grapes or oranges would be more familiar
instances today). Senecas reply is to reassert and then to justify the strong
and narrow understanding of such terms. The counterexample here is
derived from vision (like fever, cataracts conveniently illustrate a form
of impairment which is variable in degree but dispreferred in even the
smallest degree).
The availability of analogies shows that there is no conceptual barrier to
taking the strong Stoic position on value dualism (which relies on narrow
interpretations of the key terms). The fact that it is not inconceivable does
not by itself indicate that the strong Stoic ideal is in fact possible, and so
Seneca might be accused of question-begging when he assumes it. But
he does not just assume that a complete freedom from passions and vice
is possible for humansCato and Socrates, among others, are alleged to
establish the possibility. Hence the question becomes: why, in the case
of passions etc., would we want to accept the narrow understanding of
the terms? Why insist on apatheia rather than metriopatheia as our ideal?
Even if it is possible to build ones ethics on such a strong ideal, is it also
desirable to do so?
In 8. the rst reason for adopting the strong Stoic position is given.
Even a small failing will, he claims, eventually grow to become a major
impairment to our moral life (the comparison is with cataracts or malignant
tumours rather than with low-level but stable nuisances like bunions or
psoriasis). Hence, on this view, to allow that a minor moral failing is
compatible with a happy life is to leave the happy life in a highly unstable
condition. Not only is it not perfect (which might be acceptable to a
Peripatetic who holds that the happy life need not be the happiest life
since happiness can admit of degrees), but it is also liable to degeneration,
an internal vulnerability which is not compatible with the conception of
happiness as a stable feature of ones whole life.
The second reason offered (8.6y) for preferring the strong Stoic
position rests on the claim that having one passion would lead to having
them all. This Stoic claim parallels the thesis of the unity of virtues and
follows from the analysis of what a passion is. If a passion is essentially a
mistaken opinion about fundamental values (what is good and bad in life),
then such error about the fundamentals can be counted on to produce
inappropriate responses to a wide range of situations, potentially to all. It
rr++ra 8j ::j
is clear that Seneca holds that a vice is the state of soul which underlies and
so generates the occurrent passion when the relevant stimulus is present.
Counterfactually Seneca considers the condition of someone with only one
vice or passion, but in a highly developed form, and someone with many,
but in a moderate form. The former person would be better off, Seneca
claims. The reason for this lies in the rst reason given: any passion is
liable to develop into something much larger and more dangerous, so that
if one has many moderate passions one has to count on eventually (since
one is considering ones whole life) having many major passions rather
than just one major passion (assuming that one could have just one).
Senecas Peripatetic opponents are credited with the view that a mod-
erate degree of passion is compatible with a happy life. Dialectically, then,
8.y is doing the most important work by emphasizing the unacceptable
consequences of allowing moderate passions; but the central support for
this position comes from the Stoic view of the dynamic instability of the
passions (8.) and the constant focus on the fact that a whole life is always
under consideration. For if, contrary to the eudaimonist assumptions
shared by Peripatetics and Stoics, one only considered the present moment
or a relatively short stretchof life thenone might plausibly rely onmoderate
passions not getting out of control within the relevant planning horizon.
8.8 Further support for the claim that the magnitude of a passion is
not relevant. What underlies the instability of a passion is its failure to
respond to reason. To have within ones moral personality elements which
are recalcitrant to reason allegedly introduces an ineradicable instability.
This recalcitrance is indicated by the phrase deaf to its persuasion,
where the persuasion is perhaps of the sort envisaged by Aristotle in
EN +.+, ++o:b:j++oa. Here the Stoic view taken by Seneca is at
odds with Peripatetic assumptions about the structure of the human soul.
For Aristotle claims that there is a part of the human soul which is not
rational but is capable of obedience and disobedience to reason. The fully
unied rational soul of Stoic theory (the mind, that is) has no such part.
Hence, on the Stoic view, when the mind is in an irrational state it is
corrupted and so immune to rational considerations. See Inwood +8j:
chs. and j.
Seneca does not, however, merely rely on having his opponent accept
Stoic moral psychologysince his opponents would presumably not do
so without argument. He backs it up with the comparison of passions and
passion-producing dispositions (vices) to wild animals; in so doing he is
drawing on the Platonic image of the desires as wild beasts. One could
:: cor++av
never be condent of having tamed such beasts. (They are not tamed in
good faith, i.e., so that one could rely on them; for this sense bona de see
Tranq. An. +.:. Given their lack of reason, ones reason could not rely on
the passionate wild animals in ones soul keeping their covenants.) But if
ones plan for life is to have long-term stability one would have to be able
to rely on their keeping their word for the rest of ones life. On Senecas
use of such vivid psychological metaphors, see Seneca and Psychological
Dualism (ch. : of Inwood :ooj).
The comparison to the domesticability of tigers and lions is echoed in
the conclusion (8.1), where the idea seems to be that the wise man can
handle such beasts not because they are utterly reliable but because he is
without fear of the consequence of their disobedience. We cannot be so
tranquil before the prospect of internal savagery.
8.q1o get started persist despite it. See e.g., De Ira .+o.:. Com-
pare also the psychodynamics sketched at De Ira :.+ ff. A crucial part of
Senecas case for the feasibility of extirpating passions rather than merely
moderating them is the claim made here that preemptive eradication of
passions is possible when reason is functioning at full effectiveness. The
model of insanity or sickness supports this in that both are conditions
which we all think it better to prevent than to contain. It is an empirical
psychological claim that it is easier to forestall a passion than to regulate
it once it gets established; hence it ultimately requires support from our
experience. The Peripatetics and Stoics share a conception of the happy
life as a stable long-term condition but disagree about the psychological
underpinnings required to achieve that goal. This suggests that if the two
schools could agree about the facts of human psychology their ethical
disagreements might largely disappear.
Balance is the only thing which guarantees us control over our minds.
This temperamentumis also a technical termin medicine, where the optimal
balance of the humours is the key to stable good health. Senecas claim that
balance is required for long-term mental stability is grounded in orthodox
Stoicism.
At Stobaeus, Ecl. :.:.+j.j (=SVF .:y8) the balanced symmetry
of the souls parts (that is, its health, soundness, strength, and beauty)
constitutes the analogue to the good state of the body (cf. Tusc. .:o),
and for Chrysippus such parts would be the contents of our minds
(on the parts of soul being our prol
esis).
It is signicant for our understanding of the Hellenistic Peripatos that
Antipater was engaged in solving a Peripatetic sophism in Peripatetic-
sounding terms in the second century uc. This may suggest that we should
:j8 cor++av
think of Critolaus as the author of the sophism. Antipater denies premiss
(:) of the sophism by insisting that poverty is a privative term, indicating
an absence, negation, or lack; since no positive sum can be generated by
adding up any number of absences, any amount of poverty cannot add up
to riches. But if we dened poverty as, e.g., a small amount of money
then one could eventually add up lots of poverty to produce wealth.
8y.q removal. The Latin word is detractio, which might also be
rendered omission though that is not the usual sense in Seneca. However
it is translated here, it is clear that the ancient term orbatio (privation)
is the preferable translation for the Greek term.
8y.o Seneca concludes the letter by pulling back from his engagement
with the dialectic. He claims that Antipaters solution of the sophism
would be easier to present if he had a Latin term for non-existence.
Just as in 8y.q a Greek term had to be invoked to report the sophism
(and Seneca offers both an up-to-date and an obsolete Latin term for the
Greek ster
egemonikon p
os echon).
In 11y. Seneca insists that only a body is good, a view which is more
strict than what we see expressed in most of the standard doxographical
accounts and which rests heavily on the metaphysical distinction between
an action (which is a predicate and so an incorporeal) and a disposition
(which is a body). This metaphysical distinction plays an important role
in the doxographical account of ethics in Stobaeus, especially at Ecl.
:.y8, where the doxographer distinguishes sharply between happiness
(a bodily state of the soul) and being happy (a predicate). At Ecl. :.y8.y+:
a sharp metaphysical distinction is drawn between what is worth choosing
(haireton) and what is to be chosen (haireteon): the virtue, i.e., bodily
disposition of the soul, prudence is worth choosing and the predicate
being prudent is to be chosen. Yet even here it is made clear that the
predicate being prudent obtains with respect to the soul in virtue of the
the disposition of the soul, which is a corporeal feature of it. In this context
the term good seems to be used more restrictivelyproperly speaking
only the bodily disposition is good and the predicates which ow from
it (labelled
ophel
egemonikon p
os echon pros to s
egemonikon p
os
echon), that is, a disposition, the third of the so-called Stoic categories, and
in 1z1 of the view that the constitution is a relative disposition, the fourth
category, shows that his knowledge of serious metaphysical disputes in
the early school (among the antiqui) is quite detailed.
disposition. Compare Ciceros use of habitus (e.g., Inv. :.+o, Tusc. .:,
Fin. .:, j.).
On the Stoic categories, see LS :y, Menn + and Brunschwig
:oo: ::y:. Menn, followed by Brunschwig, argues that while the
virtues are pros ti p
egemonikon p
os
echonta (dispositions) of a single excellent state of the material mind. By
contrast Aristo took the view that virtue was radically unied and that
the differences among justice, courage, etc. were merely situational, pros
ti p
enos aret
os echon in order
to avoid having to make walking a distinct body within the person, a
dedicated stream of pneuma identiable as walking. Instead, Chrysippus
identies the walking with a denite but not independent disposition of
psychic pneuma, a feature of the person rather than a part. In Inwood
+8j: jo I made less of this passage than now seems appropriate; see Long
:oo:: :+, n. +o.
11.z The substantial disagreement is brought to focus and then
resolved with a casual ease that suggests once more that Seneca has been
deliberately exaggerating the dispute to make a point about the need to
maintain an appropriate balance between detailed physical speculation and
ethics. Despite Senecas aggressive and sometimes irresponsible polemic,
the spokesman for the Stoic thesis restates it in a form which both
conrms its reliance on Chrysippean p
epsis
(prae = pro and sumptio = l
or
e
and apeklog
e Stoichei
e Stoichei
egemonikon p
os echon pros to s
oma).
As the objector suggests, this is a relatively arcane feature of Stoic theory.
The objection is that this bit of theory cannot be pertinent to the question
of how animals function since such technical philosophical concepts are
not graspable by themnot even by ordinary Roman citizens, in fact.
It is worth noting that the ability which the objector supposes would be
needed to grasp this concept is dialectical skill; the concept does rely on the
Stoic theory of categories, which plays a role in both dialectic and physics.
The result of locating such knowledge in dialectic rather than physics is
to make it seem even more remote, arcane, and apparently useless than
it would appear if treated as part of physics. Seneca typically has more
patience for the contributions to ethics of physics than of dialectic. Thus
the objectors decision to regard it as merely dialectical should be seen as
a polemical move.
adult Romans (togati). Seneca does not mean to suggest that Greeks
would in fact be any better at dialectic, but his intended audience is Roman
and he assumes this.
1z1.11 The distinction between understanding and articulation is very
important, not just for this problem but for Stoic epistemology more
generally. What sort of innatism (if any) is Seneca committing himself
to? What does it mean to claim that an animal knows that it is an
animal but does not know what an animal is? This, presumably, is at
least the difference between irrational perception (in this case, of oneself)
and perception articulated in propositional form; and also the difference
between a perceptual grasp of something (even as a prol
e Stoichei
edon
os
logikou). All aspects of this denition are reected in Senecas account
here. Rational animals have non-rational aspects and characteristics, but
the phrase qua rational denies their relevance to the understanding of the
good. And non-rational animals and plants certainly have characteristics
that accord with nature, but the restriction to what is natural for a rational
rr++ra +: y
animal rules out this kind of naturalness. And even a rational animal qua
rational can be defective in its accordance with nature, but the requirement
that the naturalness in question be perfected excludes the relevance of
such traits to the denition of the good.
At 66.111z Seneca gives a similar account of the different and incom-
mensurable standard of value that applies to non-rational animals. There
the distinctive status of human rationality (and so human goodness) is
connected to a divine mind; here (in 1z.1) it is connected to the com-
pleteness of the cosmos, which is identied with god. What seems a mark
of Platonic inuence in 66.1z and elsewhere is here connected more closely
to Stoic cosmology, which, of course, was partly inspired by the Timaeus.
1z.1 The foundation for the claim that only what has reason can
have the good is the notion of completeness. Senecas case depends on
supporting the claim that there is a notion of completeness which goes
beyond completeness in ones kind.
The all-inclusiveness of the cosmos is the basis for the claim that its
good is the true, non-relative good. And in Stoicism (as in Platonism) it is
agreed that the cosmos is rational. Compare 66. and below for the role
of all-inclusiveness in making something dominant or rational.
in accordance with the nature of each. See y6.811, 1z1. and compare
De Finibus j.+.
1z.1 tree. The Stoic scala naturae normally includes rocks and plants
and here tree represents the plant kingdom. Cf. y6.q and (noting the
presence of pneuma in all of nature) NQ .+.+.
On the difference between man and animal see also Cicero, Off. +.++.
1z.1 A further argument. The happy life requires speech. Goods are
only found in conjunction with the happy life. So only speech-capable
animals can have the good. The premiss that happiness requires speech
would not be challenged, least of all by Epicureans who held that even the
gods speakand indeed, that they speak Greek (CHHP, j; Philode-
mus, On Gods col. ). As Seneca argues in 1z.16zo, the lack of speech
entails other deciencies, so that dumb animals cannot have all possible
benets. Speech is not only the cause of these other benets (see below),
but in itself it is one of the benecial abilities given to humans (by the gods,
nature, or providence: see Cicero, Leg. +.:y, N.D. :.+8, just following
y cor++av
the mention of reason in :.+y) which other animals lack. The close
connection of speech and reason is a commonplace both in Greek (logos)
and in Latin (ratio/oratio, for which see Cicero, Off. +.jo).
1z.1618 Seneca elaborates on the incompleteness from which dumb
animals suffer. They do not have a complete sense of time (and so cannot
be complete in their natures). There is no account here of what it is about
a sense of time that is indispensable to a complete nature, but the trope
in 1z.18 is reasonably convincing (in contrast to the reductio in the same
place: if that sort of nature has the good then so do plants).
For a sense of time as a key difference between non-rational and rational
animals, see Cicero, Off. +.++. Cf. on time Brev. Vit. +o.
1z.18 disorderly and confused. The concession that animals have a
drive towards the natural is used as a foil to suggest what is lacking:
orderliness and clarity. Those two traits are built into our notion of the
good and are allegedly found only with reason. Confused represents
turbidum, an adjective which Cicero uses for passions: see Tusc. .:, ..
But animals do not have the rationality which makes genuine passions
possible. The Stoic point is that a misuse or failure of reason produces
behaviours not unlike those produced by the absence of reason. Here
Seneca is describing the state of non-rational creatures; see 1z.1q.
1z.1q An animals lack of order is not a aw with respect to their
kindthis point is needed in order to avoid taking the contradictory
position that an animal whose specic nature is in ideal shape has a defect.
There is a thin line between asserting, as Seneca does, that human nature
is objectively good while no other animal nature is and asserting, as Seneca
does not, that there is something defective about other species. Dumb
animals have this sort of movement bytheir ownnatures andthose natures,
as far as they go, are not defective. As indicated in 1z.1, there is no good
except where there is room for reason. Dumb animals, then, cannot have
genuine vices or defects any more than they can have the genuine good.
1z.zo The optimal state of a non-rational animal has a kind of good a
kind of virtue something complete but not in an unrestricted
sense. These are the goods by courtesy of 1z.1. The unrestrictedness
comes with the ability to understand the set of adverbial qualications on
actions which are associated with the assessment of actions by Aristotle:
why, to what extent, how; compare Ben. .. and see Rules and Reasoning
rr++ra +: yj
ch. , Inwood :ooj: ++:. This is particularly interesting, as these are the
qualications about actions that are needed for successful deliberation.
They seemto come out of nowhere here, but this, inmy view, simply shows
how important they are for Senecas conception of practical rationality
and how natural it is to take them for granted as a component of practical
reasoning. It is just these situational qualications and their application
which are the chief mark of rationality in any decision or action. Cf. q.
and 1oq..
For the quasi-virtues of non-rational animals in contrast with human
virtue, see 66.111z.
1z.z1 There are three ways in which this kind of quaestio is useful.
First, it is good exercise and sharpens the wits. Second, it slows down the
process of deliberation and so provides an opportunity for the avoidance
of error. But most important, this line of argument or, rather, the doctrine
developed here shows that man is to be grouped with god rather than
non-rational animals. 1z.zz purport to show how this is so.
alongside god See 66.1z et al. In 66 the linkage of man to god was
merely asserted as a theological premiss, but in 1z Seneca has argued
non-theologically for mans special status as a complete animal rst (above)
and then argues that this aligns him with the divine.
1z.zz The idea in the background must be that our true good (and
so happiness) is something in which we excel (our function is what we
alone do or do best, as in Republic +, j:e). Among mortal animals, there
is no physical activity or trait at which we are best. So the competition at
which we are bound to win, the competition of reason, points to the trait
which alone is truly ours. And it groups us with god (the rational cosmos)
rather than with any other species.
1z.zz Superior animal capabilities; see y.1, y6.q, Ben. :.:.+. The
great myth of Platos Protagoras explores the theme. Also Plin. Nat. y.+j.
fast as a hare. See y6.8q.
1z.z reason brought to perfection. See also qz.zy, q.11.
bound to lose. See above on 1z.y and y6.q; compare 1.y on praising
various animals for their proper good: no one should boast or be praised
except for what is their own.
y cor++av
1z.z joy comes from within. Joy (gaudium) is a rational reaction to
the presence of genuine good, that is, virtue or what participates in virtue.
Since virtue is a state of ones soul, joy is an affective response to an inner
state of ones own character. 1 and y6 also emphasize the importance of
limiting praise to states which are truly ones own ( proprium), that is, the
mind and perfected reason within the mind (1.8). See above on 1z.y.
The idea that the truly happy person is above other men and a rival to
god because self-sufcient bears comparison with the god within concept
(e.g. 66.1z and 1.1z).
when you can gaze upon . Compare 118. with its echoes of Lucretius.
The sense of the claim that the unstable objects of human striving are
things which one would not want turns on the use of the verb want (velle)
to indicate an unconditional desire for something as being good (as such
things cannot be); velle sometimes represents the Greek verb boulesthai, a
desire for the good as such. Seneca does not deny, though, that one might
prefer such things (malle), that is, that one might choose to have them in
specic circumstances rather than their opposites.
seize, wish for, protect. These ways of handling the external objects
which people overvalue are listed in declining order of aggressiveness. We
take some things away from other people (eripere); other things we might
wish for but do not take action to acquire; nally, there are things which
we already possess but feel we must endeavour to retain. None of these
attitudes is correct according to Seneca.
Seneca concludes the letter and the book with a guideline (formula) or
rule of thumb to be used in self-assessment. Becoming complete involves
not just possession of what is truly ones own, self-sufciency. It also
requires that one understand something, just having the good is not
enough (indeed it is not really possible) without an internal grasp of it.
The guideline to use in determining whether one has this understanding
lies in ones ability to understand a puzzle or paradox: if one can see
how it is that the least fortunate are in fact fortunate. The puzzle is
solved by noting an ambiguity. Fortunate indicates both the possession
of many preferred indifferents and the attainment of happiness. Those
deprived of such external advantages (the most unfortunate) can be
happy: this is a basic thesis of Stoicism. But the claim here is stronger,
that they are most fortunate. How is this to be understood? It may
be simple hyperbole, but more likely it also reects Senecas persistent
rr++ra +: yy
interest in the value of misfortune in moral education, as a corrective
to the misguided values of ones culture. We see this training function
in both 66 (esp. 66.q) and in 1z (we are to welcome misfortune).
For the reassessment of good fortune, cf. 8o.6, qo., q8.1, 1z1..
In q.y it is clear that the key to this paradox is the doctrine of the
indifferents.
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goods :,
Letter to Idomeneus +yy
Letters xiv
On the Goal :
epistemologyy +++y, ++:o, +:,
+8, +88, +, :+y, +:, +,
Stoic view +::, :8, y8
epistolary genre, see genre
ethics :6, ,6, S,, +:, +y, +y, +,
:o, :+8, ::o, ::, :o, :,
, ,
ethics and metaphysics :+, :yo,
::, :j, o+
ethics and physics +:8, +8, ++,
:y+:, ::, o
practicality ++:, +j, +y+, +8,
o
eudaimonism, see happiness
Eudorus of Alexandria +oy, +o
exempla .,, :6,, 6, Sc, +j8, +o,
+, +8y, +8, +, +j, :oo, :+o,
:8, :, +j, +, ::,
:j, +
externals :c., +j, +j, +yo,
+y, +8j, +88, +, :oo+, :+o,
:+j, ::o, ::y8, :j, :o, ::,
:j, :y, o, :+, :,
jj, j8, y, see also goods,
external and indifferents
Fabianus ,, +o, ++, jo
fear ., .S, :c:., c, S, ,:, ,,,,
,S, ,:, 66, ,c, ,,, , S,6,
SS,, ,,,, +, +j, +j, +y,
::o, ::8, ::, :o, :8, :o
fear of death .,, :, ,,, SS, ,c, +o,
, see also passions
ux, see change
fortune S, ., .6, :,, :6, :,, .:,
6, S,, ,,, ,6,, ,,, 6,
6,,, ,6,, S., .c., .c, +j,
+y8, +8, +88, ++, +8,
:++j, :8, ::, :8y, o, oj,
o8, +j, :o, ::, :, y
misfortune ,, .,, :,, :,, c, ,, 6,,
S:, +j, +jy, +o, +j, +y+,
+y, +88, +8, :+j+,
:, :j, o, ::, j, yy
freedom (libertas) ..,, .,, ,,, ,,,
+jo, +j:, +jj, +j, +8, +,
:+:, ::+:, ::, ::8, :, j8
o orra+r rnrx
freedom (libertas) (cont.)
from pain ,., +
slavery +j, +j, see also passions,
apatheia
function argument :o8
genre, consolatory +y8, oy8
epistolary xii xiv, xvii xviii, xx,
++, +j, +o, +j8, :+, :,
:yy, oy, ::
literary form :+, o
satire +
goal (nis, telos) ,6,, .c, +, +y,
+jo, +y, +8j, :o, :+,
::, :j, :8, :, ::, :, o,
o, ++, +, +8, , :,
, , :j+, j, j, y+
god/gods ,, ...:, .,, :6, :,S, ,,
,c, ,:, ,., 6.,, 66, 6S, ,c, ,S,
.c., +:j, +:, +:,
+j+, +jj, +8, ++:, :o+,
:oj, :+++, ::+, ::, :y,
:8j, :88, :, :8, , :,
, y, y
active principle .,, +8, ++
artisan/craftsman S, .:, :,, 6., ,S,
+, ++, +y, +
Demiurge +:, +, +:, +,
+j
divine, the ., .,, :S, S:, .cc,
+, +o, :+, :8, :y, :,
8, y, yj
good/goods .., .,, :,, ., ,S, ,,
,6, ,c,,, ,,, 6:, 6,S, ,., ,,
,,, ,,S., S,, +++, +, +y,
+yo, +y:, +y, +y, +y88o,
+8:, +8j, +88, +, +8,
:oo, :o8+:, :+, :+8, ::,
:o, :, :8, :jo+, :jy,
:+:, :j, :y, :8, :8j,
:8+, :j, :oo, +,
:o, :, o+
absolute :o, +, :,
bad, the +, +8, ::, :,
:joj, :jy, :j, o
broad and narrow senses :,
:8, :j+, :jy, ::, :
cosmic :y
equality of goods .S:c, :,, :6,
:S, +jj, +o, +8:, +8y,
++, +, :8
external +j8, +yo, :o+:, :oy,
:
good, the ,6, ,,, .cc, +jj,
+, +yj, +yy, +8y, ++, :o:,
:o, :oy8, ::8, :, :,
:, oy, o+,
:+j, :8, 8, :,
y+, y
highest ::6, :S, c, ,, ,., .cc,
+yj, +8, +8j, +, :o, :+,
:+:
intermediate :.
primary .,.6, :.::, +jo,
+yj, +y8o
secondary .,.6, :.::, +jo,
+yj, +y, +88
species-relative :oy, :y, +,
, y:
tertiary .6, +j, +yj
three kinds of good .,, :c, +j8,
+, +yj, :o+, :oj
happiness .,, ::,, :6, :S, c, ,,,
,S, ,c, ,,, ,S, ,c, ,6, 6,
6,, ,,, ,,, S., S,, ,,.c., .c,
+jo, +jj, +j, +8, +yy,
+8:, +8, +y, +:o+,
:oj, :o8, :+:+, :+j+,
:+8, ::o:, :8, :o, :, :j:,
:, :+, +, +, :y, :,
jy, , yj
eudaimonism +:, +y, +y, +8j,
++, +, :o, :o, :+:, :::,
::j
Heraclitus, change ,, +:8:, ++,
+8
honourable, the (honestum, to
kalon) .6, .S, :c:., :,6,
:S,, ,S, ,, ,:, 6,, ,,,
orra+r rnrx oj
,,Sc, 8, ,6,, ,,, .c:, +jy,
+yo, +y:, +8:, +8j, +8y8,
++, +j, :oo:, :oy,
:o+j, ::8, :8, oy,
+++, :, :8, j
Horace ,S, S, ++, j
genre (satire) xiv, +, y
wealth :+
hyperbole +yy8, +8o, :+, oj, :,
, y
indifferents 66, +, +j, +,
+8, +y+:, +yj, +yy8, +8:,
+8, +, +:oo, :+o, :+j, :+8,
::, ::8, :, ::, :jo, :j:, :jy,
:j, +++:, +y+8, :+,
jj, yy
absolute +yj
dispreferred .S, :c, +y, +y,
+yj, +8, +:, +, :+o, ::,
::, :, :, :8, :j+, :j,
jy
preferred :,, ++:, +j, +jo,
+yj, +y, +8j, +8y, +:,
:o+, :o8, :++, :, :8,
:o, :, :j, :+, +:+,
:o, o, j, y:, y
judgement (iudicium) :., :, ., ,6,
6, ,,.cc, +, +, +jjy,
+j, +y:, +j, :o:, :+
Latin philosophical vocabulary, see
philosophical vocabulary
letters, see genre, epistolary
literary form, see genre
Lucretius ,,, +jy, :y, +, 8, y
dualism :
corporealism :
On the Nature of Things o,
++y
matter, see raw material
metaphysics +o, +++, ++j+,
++:o, +o, +jo, +o, +:, +8j,
:+8+, :+, :, :, :8, :yo,
:8:, :8y, :8o, ::8, o+:
technicality in ::
mind ,,, .:.6, :c:, :6, :S.,
6, S,, ,:, ,,, ,., ,,, ,6,
,,6, 6,,., ,, Sc, S:, S,,
,.:, ,,6, ,,, .c., +:o, +,
+, +:j, +jj, +jy, +o,
+j, +y, +8, +o+, +:oo,
:o+o, :++j, ::j, ::8,
:y8, :jy, :yo, :y8:, :8,
:y, :, :8, 8, +,
y, , y, y
mind-body relationship ..,, ,,
+++, +:8o, +, +j+j, +jy8,
+8, +o, +y, :+:, :+j, :y,
+:, see also dualism
misfortune, see fortune
moral progress xvxviii, xxi, c.,
,, ,S, ,,, +88, +y:oo, :++y,
::, :jj, :yo, ,
mortality, see death
mutability, see change
nature 6, .c, ., .,.6, :.::,
:,c, ,,, ,., 6:, 6,,, ,.,
,Sc, S:, S,,., ,, .cc,
+:8, +8, +, +, +jo,
+jj, +j+, +, +y, +,
+y:, +yjy, +8j, :oo, :o:,
:oy, :+, :o, :8, ::, :8,
oy, +o++, +:+, :, :,
:y, o:, 8, jo+,
jj8, +, j, 8yj
human nature :, :6, ,c, +:,
+8, +8y, +jy, +, :o8,
:::, , j, 8, ,
y
natural, the .S, +j, +j, +yo, +8o,
:o, :, o, ++, j, :
Nero xi xii, :o:, ::, :, jo+
oikei
osis +yo, :, , o
Old Academics +y, +8, +, ::o
happiness :S, +, ::+
o orra+r rnrx
Old Academics (cont.)
three kinds of good :o+, see also
Academy
old age ,,, .,, ::, ,, .c., +,
+, +y8, :oo+, ::
ontology ,S, +++, ++j:, +:jy,
++, +, :yy, :8o, :8, :o+,
:
pain, see pleasure
Panaetius +8, o
theory of personae :j,
paradoxes ,S, +y, :+y, :+, :o+,
++j, +8, 8
passions (path
causation :j:j
courage :8y
fortune 6
good :j
sophisms :jy
wealth ,,, :o, :j+, :+
poverty, see wealth, of Latin language,
see philosophical vocabulary
praise, .,:c, :,, c, ,,, ,,, Sc,
S,, ,S, +y, :oj8
blame ,
raw material (hul
e, materia) .,,
:.::, :,, ,,, +:, +, +jj, +j,
+, +j, +y, +, :, :8, :j,
, 8
passive principle +8:, see also
corporealism
reason S, .:, .,, :c:,, ,6, ,., ,,,
,6, ,,.c, +y, +j, +,
+yj, +y, +8, +8, +,
+:o+, :o8, :++, ::j,
:+, :8, :8, , :, yo,
y:j
irrational part +y, ::j
practical reason +8, ::+
rational part c.
rationality 6.:, S,, .cc., .c,
+o, +, +jo, +o, +,
+, +o, ::+, :y, :8j,
++, yo, :, j:,
j, j8, 8, y, see
also mind
rhetoric +j, +8, +j+, +, +y8, :j,
:, o, o8, :, :, j8
rhetorical schools +y8
sage, see wisdom, wise person
self S,S, +o, j, +
self-awareness 8o, ,
self-determination +j
self-knowledge +8j, j
self-motion +:o
self-control .,, :c, :, ,c, ,:, ,,,
,,S, ,S, 6, S., +8, ::o+,
::y, :o, :yo, :88, j:
self-perception S,, ,,, :, ,
+
sensation, see sense perception
sense perception :., 6,, .cc, .c:, +j,
+y, +yy, +, y, ,
y8
sense-perceptible +:
slavery, see freedom
Socrates :6, +, +jo, +, +8,
+8j, +8y, +, :o+, :o, :++,
:+, ::, :, :y, :j, :o, ::,
o:, o8, :, jy, o
ethics +8y, ++:, :+
Socratic tradition xxi, ::+
Socratic use argument +:, +y,
o+, :, :
o8 orra+r rnrx
sophisms ,,, ,c, :jy, :, o,
::, see also philosophical
vocabulary, syllogisms and
technicality
soul-body relationship, see mind-body
relationship
Stobaeus, doxography :, :+, :j
soul ::
virtue +:, :j, :y
wealth +
Stoics/Stoicism xix, ,,, ,:, 6,, ,S,
+oy++, ++j, ++y, +:y, ++,
+, +, +j+:, +o, +j,
+yo+, +y8, +8, +8, +, +,
:oj, ::o:, ::j, ::, :, ::,
:j, :jj, :y, :8, :+, oo+,
o, +, +y, :, :y, y,
:, j:, j, jy, o+, ,
, y+, y, y
axiology +8, +y+, +y, +yy, +88
bad, the :, :
categories ,, ,,, 6:, 6,, :yj, :y,
y
causation .c, +y8, ++:,
++, :o8, :j, :
corporealism +::, +:y, +:, ++,
:, :y:, :88, ::, :
cosmology +:, +, +:, +,
+jj, :8, y
dualism +jj, +, +y+, :+j
epistemology +::, :8, y8
ethics +:8, +8, +8, :+, :+, :,
:y, :8y, ::, :y, o,
+:+, :, :
fear ,,, :o
goal +8+
goods, the good +jo, +:,
+, +yy, +8, +8, :o:, :o,
:oy, :o+o, :, :y, :j,
:j, o, +++, ::, :j,
:, yo
happiness +, ::, :o:
metaphysics +:o:, +:8, +jo, :+,
:yj, :8o, :
mind :8o, :8:, :8
moral psychology :o, ::j
nature +, o
ontology +:8, +, :o
paradoxes ,S, :+y, :o+, +j, +8
passions ,,, ::, ::8, :jo,
:8, jj
physics +8, +jo, +j, :, y
technicality :+, :
theology +:, :, :8
theory of action +y, :yo, :y, :8,
+o,
value theory +, +8, +8:, +,
+8, :+, :+j, :::, :,
:jo, :j, see also
indifferents
vice :, :jo, :8, o
virtue ++:, +y8, +:, :o, ::,
:j, :jo, :j, :8, :y,
:yy8, :88, :
wealth :o, :j+:, :j, +8, :o+
suicide S,, .,, .,, 6,,c, +,
+jo, +j, +o, +, :++, ::,
:
syllogisms :oy, :+:+, ::, :j,
:y, :jo, :jj, :j
Peripatetic :
Stoic :::, :, :jy, see also
philosophical vocabulary,
sophisms and technicality
technicality 6,, .:, ,,,, 6:, ,c.,
,,, +++, ++, +, +j:, +j,
+8y, :+8+, ::+, :j, :+,
:yo:, :o, o, +o++, ::,
, y,, see also
philosophical vocabulary and
sophisms
telos, see goal
time xxxxi, ,, 6,, .:., .,
,,6, 6S, ,., ,,, .c:, +:+, +:,
+:y, +o, +j, +, ::, :+, :,
:y+, o
future S:, .c:, o
past S:, .c:
present ,., S:, .c:, +y, ::j, o
orra+r rnrx o
tranquillity .,, :, c, ,c:, ,S, ,,,
,:, ,,, .c:, +:, :++, :::, ::,
::8, see also freedom
transience, see change
Vergil , .,, ,, ,c., ,,, ,., 6, ,c,
,,, ,,, ++:+, +jy, :8y, 8,
:, y+
vice, see virtue
virtue .,.6, :, :S., ,S, ,c,
,:,, ,,, ,c., ,,, ,,, ,,6,,
,,S., S, S,, ,,,, .c:, +,
+jo, +jj:, +y+, +y8,
+8:, +8, +8, +88, ++j,
+y:o+, :o, :o, :o8+o,
:++, :+y+8, ::o, ::8,
:j8, :o, :, :jy, :j,
:+, :j, :8, :y:88, :,
o+, +, :o, :y, o, j,
y, j, j8, +, ,
yo+, y
equality of virtue .,:., 6.,
+:, +y, +y:, :8
unity of virtue ++, +8j, +8, ::,
:y:, :yy, :8:, :88, :y
vice ,c:, ,,, ,,, 6c, Sc, S, S,, ,.,
,, ,6S, +o:, +, +8,
::j, :jo, :, :y,
:y8, :
wealth xxi, .,, :., :S, ,6, ,S,,,
,:, ,6Sc, ,, ,,, ,,, +8,
+yo, +y8, :o8, :+o, :j,
::, :jjj, :jy, +y:+,
:j, +, , j:, jy8
natural wealth +8, :o
poverty .,, :., ,,S, ,,,, ,6S,
Sc., ,S, +, +8, +o, +8,
:++, :, :y, :jy, :o+
will and the voluntary .S.,, :,, :S,
,, ,, +8, +, +y+:, +yj, :oo,
:oj, j
wisdom ., :6, :S, ., 6, ,6, ,,,
6,., +8, +8y, +8, +, +8,
:o+, :++y, :o, :, :, :+,
:y, :88+, :oj
being wise ,,, 6,,., ,,, :+,
:88+, :o+, +y
practical wisdom ,,, 6:, :8, o:,
+
wise person .S, c, ,,., ,,
,,,, ,., ,,, ,,, 66, 6S, ,c, ,6,
S, ,S, +j+, ++, ++, +,
+j, :o+, :+, :+, ::o+,
::, ::, :o, :, :j, :y,
:j, :j, :j, :, :8, o8,
+j, +8, :o, :y, +:,
o+
Zeno of Citium xix, +y, +j:, +j,
+88, :+, ::, :y, o8
metaphysics +:+, o+
paradoxes :+
reason :o