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Seneca to Lucilius, 27: on the source of real joy
Seneca was one of the great Roman Stoics (together with Marcus Aurelius and Epictetus) of which we have substantial writings surviving. Near the end of his life he famously wrote a series of philosophical letters to his friend Lucilius, which the classic scholar Liz Gloyn has interpreted as a sort of informal curriculum to study Stoic theory and practice. I have been writing an occasional series commenting on most of the letters, highlighting the crucial passages and exploring their value — almost two thousand years later — for contemporary life. This next installment of the series concerns letter 27, where Seneca talks about the source of real joy and satisfaction.
It begins with a profession of humility that I find endearing:
“‘How is it that you are advising me?’ you say. ‘Have you already advised yourself? Have you got yourself straightened out? Is that why you have the time to correct others?’ I am not such a hypocrite as to offer cures while I am sick myself. No, I am lying in the same ward, as it were, conversing with you about our common ailment and sharing remedies. So listen to me as if I were talking to myself: I am letting you into my private room and giving myself instructions while you are standing by. (27.1)
Seneca here is exploiting the recurring Stoic metaphor that philosophy is akin to medicine: our soul (so to speak) is sick, and philosophy is the remedy. But he is not posing as a doctor, but rather presenting himself as a fellow patient, perhaps a bit more advanced in the treatment, but ailing nonetheless. This established the same kind of rapport with Lucilius (and, more broadly, with readers of the Letters) that I strive for with fellow practitioners: we are all in this together, and we can help each other.
He then shifts to a reminder that for the Stoics virtue is the highest good:
“Just as the worry over criminal acts does not depart, even if they are…
