EPICTETUS — THE PROPER CHARACTER. . .

It is a cold and rainy morning here.  I am savoring a cup of coffee and I am savoring Epictetus’ words.  Epictetus writes:

. . .standards of reasonableness and unreasonableness vary from one person to the next — just as we consider different things good or bad, harmful or beneficial. . .

. . .this not only weighing the value of externals, it also means considering what agrees with our own, individual nature.  For one person it is reasonable to be a bathroom attendant. . .Someone else not only finds such a job intolerable for him personally, but finds it intolerable that anyone should have to perform it.  But ask me, ‘Shall I be a bathroom attendant or not?’ and I will tell you that earning a living is better than starving to death; so that if you measure your interests by these criteria, go ahead and do it.  ‘But it would be beneath my dignity.’  Well, that is an additional factor that you bring to the question, not me.  You are the one who knows yourself — which is to say, you know how much you are worth in your own estimation, and therefore at what price you will sell yourself; because people sell themselves at different rates.

So, for instance, Agrippinus told Florus to ‘Go ahead’ when he was debating whether to attend Nero’s festival, maybe even participate.  But when Florus asked him why he was not going himself, Agrippinus answered, ‘I don’t even consider the possibility.’  Taking account of the value of externals, you see, comes at some cost to the value of one’s own character.

. . .’But if I refuse to participate in Nero’s festival, he will kill me.’  Go ahead and participate, then — but I still refuse.  ‘Why?’

Because you think of yourself as no more than a single thread in the robe, whose duty it is to conform to the mass of people — just as a single white thread seemingly has no wish to clash with the remainder of the garment.  But I aspire to be the purple stripe, that is, the garment’s brilliant hem.  However small a part it may be, it can still manage to make the garment as a whole attractive.  Don’t tell me, then, ‘Be like the rest,’ because in that case I cannot be the purple stripe. 

In his actions Priscus showed his awareness of this principle.  When Emperor Vespasian sent him word barring him from the Senate, his response was, ‘You can disqualify me as a senator. But as long as I do remain a member I must join the assembly.’  ‘Well join, then, but don’t say anything.’  ‘Don’t call on me for my vote and I won’t say anything.’  ‘But I must call on you for your vote.’  ‘And I have to give whatever answer I think is right.’  ‘Answer, and I will kill you.’  ‘Did I ever say I was immortal?  You do your part, and I will do mine.  It is your part to kill me, mine to die without flinching; your part to exile me, mine to leave without protest.’ 

. . .That’s what I mean by having consideration for one’s character.  And it shows how weighty a factor it can be when it is allowed a regular role in one’s deliberations.

. . .’But how do we know what is in keeping with our character?’

Well how does a bull realize its own strength, rushing out to protect the whole herd when a lion attacks?  The possession of a particular talent is instinctively sensed by its owner; so if any of you are so blessed you will be the first to know it.  It is true, however, that no bull reaches maturity in an instant, nor do men become heroes overnight.  We must endure a winter training, and can’t be dashing into situations for which we aren’t yet prepared. 

Consider at what price you sell your integrity; but please for God’s sake, don’t sell it cheap.  The grand gesture, the ultimate sacrifice — that, perhaps, belongs to others to people of Socrates’ class.  ‘But if we are endowed by nature with the potential for greatness, why do only some of us achieve it?’  Well, do all horses become stallions?  Are all dogs greyhounds?  Even if I lack the talent, I will not abandon the effort on that account.  Epictetus will not be better than Socrates.  But if I am no worse, I am satisfied. . . In short, we do not abandon any discipline for despair of ever being the best in it.