Beware the crowd again. Seneca, Epistles 2.14.7-11
What
is philosophy for? Seneca thinks it offers an alternative to
politics, a discourse that is not founded upon adversarial
confrontation (which was normal in Roman oratory, in situations where
private and public goods were debated). But that does not mean that
philosophers cease to be human, for him. They must still deal with
fear—their own, and that of others (especially the mob of strangers
so prominent in Rome). And as they do, they find themselves
negotiating with three things: hatred, envy, and contempt.
Demus
itaque operam, abstineamus offensis. Interdum populus est quem timere
debeamus; interdum, si ea civitatis disciplina est ut plurima per
senatum transigantur, gratiosi in eo viri; interdum singuli quibus
potestas populi et in populum data est. Hos omnes amicos habere
operosum est, satis est inimicos non habere. Itaque sapiens numquam
potentium iras provocabit, immo declinabit
(†),
non aliter quam in navigando procellam.
Cum
peteres Siciliam, traiecisti fretum.
Temerarius gubernator contempsit austri minas,
ille
est enim qui Siculum pelagus exasperet et in vertices cogat;
non
sinistrum petit litus sed id a quo (*) propior Charybdis maria convolvit.
At
ille cautior peritos locorum rogat quis aestus sit, quae signa dent
nubes; longe ab illa regione verticibus infami cursum tenet.
Idem
facit sapiens: nocituram potentiam vitat, hoc primum cavens, ne
vitare videatur; pars enim securitatis et in hoc est, non ex professo
eam petere, quia quae quis fugit damnat.
Circumspiciendum
ergo nobis est quomodo a vulgo tuti esse possimus. Primum nihil idem
concupiscamus: rixa est inter competitores. Deinde nihil habeamus
quod cum magno emolumento insidiantis eripi possit; quam minimum sit
in corpore tuo spoliorum.
Nemo
ad humanum sanguinem propter ipsum venit, aut admodum pauci; plures
computant quam oderunt. Nudum latro transmittit; etiam in obsessa via
pauperi pax est. Tria deinde ex praecepto veteri praestanda sunt ut
vitentur: odium, invidia, contemptus.
Quomodo
hoc fiat sapientia sola monstrabit; difficile enim temperamentum est,
verendumque ne in contemptum nos invidiae timor transferat, ne dum
calcare nolumus videamur posse calcari. Multis timendi attulit causas
timeri posse.
Undique
nos reducamus: non minus contemni quam suspici nocet.
Ad
philosophiam ergo confugiendum est; hae litterae, non dico apud bonos
sed apud mediocriter malos infularum loco sunt. Nam forensis
eloquentia et quaecumque alia populum movet adversarios habet: haec
quieta et sui negotii contemni non potest, cui ab omnibus artibus
etiam apud pessimos honor est. Numquam in tantum convalescet
nequitia, numquam sic contra virtutes coniurabitur, ut non
philosophiae nomen venerabile et sacrum maneat.
Let
us go to work, then, and avoid occasions for injury. Sometimes, we
must fear conquest by the people. Other times, when the discipline of
the state is such that most matters are conducted in the senate, men
with favor in that assembly become objects of fear. And there are
other moments yet, when we must fear certain singular individuals, to
whom the people grant whatever power they have. It is too much work
to have all these folk as friends; we are content not to have them as
enemies. Thus the wise man will never provoke anger in the powerful,
preferring to steer away from conflicts,
just as a seasoned ship's captain would do when navigating through a
storm.
When
you sailed for Sicily, you crossed the strait separating
her from Italy. Your
careless pilot despised the threat posed by the south wind, the one
that blows
hard over the open sea,
driving
ships into whirlpools.
He did not seek the left-hand shore, preferring to take his chances
on the
one that puts vessels closer to the swirling tides of Charybdis (‡).
A more cautious operator asks those with experience of the place
where the tides lie, what signals the clouds give; he holds his
course far from the zone infamous for whirlpools.
The
wise man behaves exactly the same way: he avoids opportunity for
injury, taking care first
that his avoidance not be obvious. Part of his security lies in this:
the fact that he does not openly chase safety,
since
she damns any who flee.
We
must consider, then, how we can protect ourselves from the mob. In
the first place, we should not desire anything it wants: strife
arises between rivals who seek the same prize. Let us also avoid
having anything which could be seized with great advantage by
ambushers.
Keep only minimal valuables about your person. Nobody sheds human
blood for its own sake, or at any rate only
a
few are so savage; more murders arise from calculation than hatred. A
thief passes by folk
with
nothing; thus, even in a crowded road the poor have peace. An ancient
precept marks three things for us to avoid: hatred,
envy, contempt.
Only wisdom will show us how. The right approach is hard, requiring
caution, lest our fear of envy make us objects of contempt: we may
seem ready for trampling if we are not willing to trample;
and on the other hand, many
find that becoming frightful to others makes them fear more for
themselves. We
should plot our course everywhere between extremes: being despised is
as harmful to us as being feared. Our refuge here must be philosophy:
literature like this letter, shared with company I call only
moderately bad, not good.
Such literature offers bandages
to heal us.
For
public speaking, and whatever else moves the people, necessarily
confronts us with adversaries, but philosophy cannot be condemned
when she proves quiet,
as she holds honor from all the arts, even in the worst company.
Never shall villainy be so strong, nor the virtues so weak, that
philosophy lose her good and holy name.
---
(†)
Some MSS insert a negative
into this phrase: immo
nec declinabit.
I prefer the reading without it.
(*) I have taken id a quo from Hense & Thomas, but I am tempted to follow the MSS: ita quo.
(‡)
Even today, sailors in the straits of Messina who do not hug the
Italian bank (left as you enter from the north) will find their
vessels tugged by a sucking whirlpool, which their ancient
predecessors identified as evidence of a large monster eager to feed
upon them.