Seneca,

It’s easier to accept that all the virtues are equal, probably because we’re less familiar with them.  When we hear that a white lie we make casually is akin to murder, we shy away.  Probably because we’re far more familiar with the “little evil.”  But there’s no such case, because that lie in fact murders our character.

Worse yet, we have trained our moral will, or προαίρεσις, to make such choices in the future.

“Any man who believes them to be unequal is turning away from the virtues themselves and is surveying mere externals; true goods have the same weight and the same width.”

This small selection is worth of pointing out, and contemplating frequently.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

“Reason, however, is nothing else than a portion of the divine spirit set in a human body.  If reason is divine, and the good in no case lacks reason, then the good in every case is divine. And furthermore, there is no distinction between things divine; hence there is none between goods, either.”

Every once in a while, I think I’m starting to get a handle on what Stoic virtue is.  Of course, I know the pat definitions… but really understanding it?  No, not yet.

I was thinking the other day on progress, and how if we Stoics had a conception of heretical doctrines, I subscribe to two of them.  The one is essay-fodder for a later date, but the other is the idea of progress.

I wrote about it yesterday, making a case for progress in Stoicism.  but this morning I was thinking about it, and I realized that this is not a position I can reasonably disagree with yet.  I might not like it, but I don’t have grounds to disagree with it.

I’ve read that’s probable that the folks of the Early Stoa (Zeno, Cleanthes, Chryssipus) likely believed themselves to be Sages, but sometime between then and the Late, Roman Stoa, the idea of of the Sage had changed somewhat, and our sources seem to no longer believe themselves (and probably not the Early Stoa as well) to be Sages.  We see that in the comments that say we have not yet seen a Sage.

My suspicion i that the Early Stoa, still being heavily influenced by Zeno’s Cynicism, saw a more practical virtue.  Cynic virtue seems easier to attain than the Stoic conception of it.

Which brings me back  to my disagreement on progress.  I don’t like the idea of no progress, the true binary and “road to Damascus”-style conversion to wisdom.

But I haven’t been there.  Without having been there, how can I saw the path looks different than others have said it does?  I’ll have to suspend judgment on the issue of progress for the time being.

Maybe sometime in the few weeks we’ll look at the other “Stoic heresy” that I favor.  (;

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

The discussion of virtue is one which is interesting.  It’s difficult sometimes to grok the concept.  Like your example of a household or person being dyed in the quality of virtue, our modern conception of virtue is dyed in the Abrahamic context of the previous two millennia.

The Stoic position of a hard binary between virtue and vice, with no admission of progress is a tough hurdle.  It also seems to belie the experience of most folks.  We can see changes in our thinking, our actions, our intent.  We can see how we handle impressions differently.  Yet, this is no progress?

We can see ourselves renouncing the apparent goods of the world, with our attentions focused on what’s “up to us.”  Yet, this is no progress?

I see your point that what is perfect cannot be made better, and if better occurs, it’s because some defect was present — but here eve we see a change towards the good.  Why not call this progress?

The lack of progress produces a sense of urgency, but the non-Sage sometimes likes gold stars for good work, and a pat on the end.  Of course, the Sage would not need these things…

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

Ah, well it seems you and I have come to the same conclusion regarding Plato’s causes.  The fact that theology, since this is what we’re discussing in this letter, is a core part of our school’s philosophy is an unpleasant truth for some.

Whether it can be dispensed with entirely, or replaced, is not as important to me as whether it ought to be.  I have a paper I’ve been writing as an aid to my study of Stoic theology, and I’ve taken liberally from your Letters and Essays, Seneca, in documenting the Stoic position.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

I quite like the Stoic position of a unitary material with two aspects:  πνεῦμα and matter.  The enlivening Logos, the organizing principle of the universe is a beautiful idea.  I do not as much like Plato’s five-part division of causes, as you’ve presented it.  Certainly, it is true that without the various things which he labels causes, the existent things … wouldn’t.  But, that doesn’t make them causes per se.

I may be re-inventing the wheel, here.  But…

From a Stoic perspective, I would challenge the Platonic doctrine and make this change:  There is one cause:  ὁ λόγος.  Full stop. 

But the observations of Plato as to the nature of things which exist is worthy of note.  I would propose to call those “constituents,”  not causes.  The existence of things which depend on constituent bodies would then be co-fated in a Chrysippean sense.  Without the timely presence of the co-fated things, existing bodies, simply put, wouldn’t.

This incorporates a keen observation of nature of behalf of Plato, and incorporates it in a Stoic appropriate way.

I’m looking forward to the rest of your letter tomorrow.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

This is an interesting section:

“The cures for the spirit also have been discovered by the ancients; but it is our task to learn the method and the time of treatment. 9 Our predecessors have worked much improvement, but have not worked out the problem. They deserve respect, however, and should be worshipped with a divine ritual. Why should I not keep statues of great men to kindle my enthusiasm, and celebrate their birthdays? Why should I not continually greet them with respect and honour? The reverence which I owe to my own teachers I owe in like measure to those teachers of the human race, the source from which the beginnings of such great blessings have flowed.”

It’s not always clear to me when you are engaging in figurative language versus telling us what you actually do.  I suspect, however, that here at least, you mean what you say and say what you mean.

I also suspect that the apotheosis of teachers which is intimated here would be distasteful to many these days.  The god-like nature of Sages seem well established, if only because most folks believe it to be an unattainable state.

Did Zeno and the folks of the early Stoa believe themselves to be Sages?  I think that answer is yes, despite the middle and late Stoa’s stepping away from that title.

It seems, though, that you, Seneca, are harkening back to that early Stoic doctrine of the pseudo-apotheosis of the Sage in treating your teachers in this way.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

Grief is a funny thing, I’ve paraphrased the sentiments in your letter as “Grieve as long as you need to, and not a moment longer.”

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

Today’s letter touches on a tough subject for most folks.  Grief is a hard thing.  I’m not sure that I entirely agree that our greiving is for others, but I do entirely agree that our watching over ourselves contributes to the extended suffering.

It’s a funny thing, our intuition, whether natural or acculturated, is such that after a great loss, if we find ourselves enjoying some small thing or laughing, we reprimand ourselves severely.  As if our every waking moment is to build a monument of grief.  The extent of our pain is not a measure of our love, and that’s a strangely bitter pill to swallow.

My reading today was just the first part of the letter, and I look forward to finishing it.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.

Seneca,

I find it interesting that you would Demetrius in high regard.  There seems to be a trend of Stoics looking to the Cynics admirably.  Epictetus speaks so highly of Diogenes as to whisper Sage in the same breath, for instance.

You often get short shrift, Seneca, for an opulent lifestyle.  I find it especially interesting as we’ve gotten to known each other better over these past four months (!), that the letters which make it into the abridged versions generally exclude your focus on training and simple living.  Of course, there’s the “take a few days of the month” bit, but this is generally viewed as mere lip service.

The ‘rich inner life’ of the Stoic philosopher is sometimes hard to see when first learning about the school, and I think that letters like these may help clarify the point.

See you next week.

Farewell.

Part of Michel Daw’s Reading Plan of Seneca’s Letters.