Welcome to Sundays with Seneca on the Perennial Meditations podcast. Join the search for ancient lessons for modern life in the writing and Stoic philosophy of Lucius Annaeus Seneca.
In a letter known today as On Practicing What You Preach, Seneca wrote,
I am glad if you are in good health and if you think yourself worthy of becoming your master at last. The credit will be mine if I can drag you from the floods you are being buffeted without hope of emerging. This, however, my dear Lucilius, I ask and beg of you, on your part, that you let wisdom sink into your soul and test your progress, not by mere speech or writings, but by stoutness of heart and decrease of desire. Prove your words by your deeds.
Far different is the purpose of those who are speech-making and trying to win the approbation of a throng of hearers, far different from that of those who allure the ears of young men and idlers by many-sided or fluent argumentation; philosophy teaches us to act, not to speak; it exacts of every man that he should live according to his own standards, that his life should not be out of harmony with his words, and that, further, his inner life should be of one hue and not out of harmony with all his activities. I say this is the highest duty and the highest proof of wisdom—that deed and word should be in accord, that a man should be equal to himself under all conditions and always the same.
“But,” you reply, “who can maintain this standard?” Very few, to be sure, but there are some. It is indeed a hard undertaking, and I do not say that the philosopher can always keep the same pace. But he can always travel the same path.
You should lay hold, once for all, upon a single norm to live by and should regulate your whole life according to this norm. Some men restrict themselves at home but strut with swelling port before the public; such discordance is a fault and indicates a wavering mind that cannot yet keep its balance.
Therefore, to omit the ancient definitions of wisdom and to include the whole manner of human life, I can be satisfied with the following:
“What is wisdom? Always desiring the same things and always refusing the same things.”
For this reason, men do not know what they wish except at the actual moment of wishing; no man ever decided once and for all to desire or to refuse. Judgment varies from day to day, and changes to the opposite, making many a man pass his life in a kind of game.
Although you may look with suspicion, Epicurus will once again be glad to settle my indebtedness:
“Believe me, your words will be more imposing if you sleep on a cot and wear rags. For in that case you will not be merely saying them; you will be demonstrating their truth.”
I hold it essential, therefore, to do as I have told you in a letter that great men have often done: to reserve a few days in which we may prepare ourselves for real poverty by means of fancied poverty. There is all the more reason for doing this because we have been steeped in luxury and regard all duties as hard and onerous. Rather let the soul be roused from its sleep and be prodded, and let it be reminded that nature has prescribed very little for us. No man is born rich. Every man, when he first sees light, is commanded to be content with milk and rags. Such is our beginning, yet kingdoms are too small for us! Farewell.”
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Until next time, be wise and be well,
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On Practicing What You Preach