Roman Stoicism / being lectures on the history of the Stoic philosophy with special reference to its development within the Roman Empire

by Edward Vernon Arnold

‘When he was visited by one of the magistrates, Epictetus inquired of him about several particulars, and asked if he had children and a wife. The man replied that he had; and Epictetus inquired further, how he felt under the circumstances. ‘Miserable,’ the man said. Then Epictetus asked ‘In what respect? For men do not marry and beget children in order to be wretched, but rather to be happy.’ ‘But I,’ the man replied, ‘am so wretched about my children that lately, when my little daughter was sick and was supposed to be in danger, I could not endure to stay with her, but I left home till a person sent me news that she had recovered.’ ‘Well then,’ said Epictetus, ‘do you think that you acted right?’ ‘I acted naturally,’ the man replied; ‘this is the case with all or at least most fathers.’ ‘Let us be careful,’ said Epictetus, ‘to learn rightly the criterion of things according to nature. Does affection to those of your family appear to you to be according to nature and to be good?’ Certainly.’ ‘Is then that which is consistent with reason in contradiction with affection?’ ‘I think not.’ ‘Well then, to leave your sick child and to go away is not reasonable, and I suppose that you will not say that it is; but it remains to inquire if it is consistent with affection.’ ‘Yes, let us consider.’ ‘Has the mother no affection for her child?’ ‘Certainly she has.’ ‘Ought then the mother to have left her, or ought she not?’ ‘She ought not.’ ‘And the nurse, does she love her?’ ‘She does.’ ‘Ought then she also to have left her?’ ‘By no means.’ ‘But if this is so, it results that your behaviour was not at all an affectionate act[69].’

Seneca draws for us the same picture of sentimental neglect of duty. ‘Of our luxurious rich,’ he says, ‘no one sits by the side of his dying friend, no one watches the death of his own father, or joins in the last act of respect to the remains of any member of his family[70].’

Sensitiveness.

376. Another form of the evil of Grief is that of undue sensitiveness to criticism and abuse. This mental weakness is illustrated by the case of Fidus Cornelius, who burst into tears because some one in the senate called him a ‘plucked ostrich’; and in an earlier period Chrysippus had been acquainted with a man who lost his temper merely because he was called a ‘sea-calf[71].’ Others are annoyed by seeing their eccentricities imitated, or by reference to their poverty or old age. The remedy for all these things is humour; no one can be laughed at who turns the laugh against himself[72]. Another is to cease thinking about oneself[73].

Mourning.

377. The hardest to bear of all distresses is the loss of friends by death, and most particularly, the loss by parents of their children. To meet this trouble a special class of literature, called consolationes, grew up, not confined to any one school of philosophers. The treatise of Crantor the Academic was famous in Cicero’s time[74]; and in the letter of Servius Sulpicius to Cicero upon his daughter’s death we have an admirable example of the ‘consolation’ in private correspondence[75]. Sulpicius bids Cicero think of all the grief and trouble in the world, the loss of political liberty at Rome, the destruction of so many famous cities of antiquity, until he feels that man is born to sorrow, and that his own loss is but a drop in the ocean of the world’s suffering. He also calls on the mourner to think of his own character, and to set an example of firmness to his household[76]. Cicero found his real comfort in none of these things, but in industrious authorship. We have unfortunately no example of a ‘Consolation’ by Musonius. Seneca has left us two treatises in this style, one a formal document addressed to the minister Polybius on the death of his brother, the other a more personal appeal to Marcia, a lady of an ‘old Roman’ family, on the death of a son. Besides the arguments already used by Sulpicius[77], he recommends to Polybius attention to the public service and the reading of Homer and Virgil[78]. Both to him and to Marcia he pictures the happiness of the soul now admitted to the company of the blest[79], or at any rate at peace and freed from all the pains of life[80]. In writing to Marcia he recalls with effect the examples of Octavia the sister, and Livia the wife of Augustus, each of whom lost a promising son in early manhood. Octavia gave herself up to her grief, never allowed her dead son to be mentioned in her presence, and wore mourning to the day of her death, though she was surrounded by her children and grandchildren. Livia, after paying the last tokens of respect, laid aside her grief, recalled with pleasure her son’s achievements, and (advised so to act by her philosopher Areius) devoted herself to her social duties, refusing to make all Rome sad because one mother had lost a son[81].

Resignation.

378. The consolations of Epictetus include less philosophical speculation, and more religious resignation. To begin with, preparation should be made for the loss of children. Parental affection should not pass the bounds of reason; every time that a father embraces his child, he should reflect ‘this child is only lent to me,’ ‘this child is mortal[82].’ If the child dies, his first thought should be ‘he who has given takes away[83].’ To others he will say ‘I have restored the child[84].’ His abiding mood will be that of resignation to the divine will. He will realize that in the course of a long life many and various things must happen; and that it is impossible to live to old age, without seeing the death of many whom we love[85].

Comfort.