Category: Stoicism

Comparing the Lyrics of Imagine to Zeno’s Republic

Comparing the Lyrics of Imagine to Zeno’s Republic

People often tell me that they’ve heard a song the lyrics of which seem “kind of Stoic” to them. Usually they’re referring to songs about enduring hardship heroically, and so on. However, there’s a very different type of song that strikes me as uncannily reminiscent of ancient Stoicism. It happens to contain some of the most famous lyrics ever written by one of the most celebrated songwriters in recent history.

Imagine by John Lennon describes a shamelessly Utopian vision of society. I’m going to discuss the lyrics below, comparing them to the Utopian dream described in Zeno’s Republic, the most influential early Stoic text. The Republic was, in part, a scathing critique of Plato’s book of the same name, written while Zeno was aligned with the Cynic philosophy. Unfortunately, it has long been lost but we do have several fragments and commentaries, which allow us to make a comparison, as you’ll see.

Imagine there’s no heaven
It’s easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky

Most of the Stoics did believe in Zeus. However, their conception of the gods was radically different from the anthropomorphic one found in traditional Greek mythology. Indeed, later generations of philosophers, and Christians, sometimes attacked the Stoics for being atheists. The Stoics were pantheists, however, who believed that the Greek myths were metaphors for different aspects of universal Nature. Theirs was a more materialist conception of the divine — Zeus is imminent in Nature not transcendent.

Marcus Aurelius goes so far as to say that although as emperor his “city and fatherland is Rome” as a human being, nevertheless, “it is the universe”.

Although they did believe in a god, of sorts, for the Stoics therefore, like Lennon, there’s no Heaven or Hell, just the physical world around us. For instance, here the Stoic Seneca says that it’s unnecessary to argue at length, like Epicureans did, against the traditional myths of the underworld or Hades, because only a child would take such old wives’ tales seriously.

I am not so foolish as to go through at this juncture the arguments which Epicurus harps upon, and say that the terrors of the world below are idle — that Ixion does not whirl round on his wheel, that Sisyphus does not shoulder his stone uphill, that a man’s entrails cannot be restored and devoured every day; no one is so childish as to fear Cerberus, or the shadows, or the spectral garb of those who are held together by naught but their unfleshed bones. — Seneca, Letters, 24

Imagine all the people living for today

Without the concept of an afterlife, Lennon is saying, people focus their attention more fully on living in the here and now. This is a major recurring theme in Stoic philosophy, especially in The Meditations of Marcus Aurelius.

Even if you were to live for three thousand years or ten times as long, you should still remember this, that no one loses any life other than the one that he is living, nor does he live any life other than the one that he loses… for it is solely of the present moment that each will be deprived, if it is really the case that this is all he has and a person cannot lose what he does not have. — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 2.14

Stoics are therefore urged to live with wisdom and virtue now, before it is too late. “No more of all this talk about what a good man should be,” says Marcus, “but simply be one!” (Meditations, 10.16).

Imagine there’s no countries
It isn’t hard to do

One of the central concepts of Stoic ethics is “cosmopolitanism”, the notion that we should see ourselves first and foremost as citizens of the worldwide community of the human race, and only second to that as citizens of a particular country. Marcus Aurelius goes so far as to say that although as emperor his “city and fatherland is Rome” as a human being, nevertheless, “it is the universe” (Meditations, 6.44).

Indeed, Stoic ethics and theory of justice is based on a concept of universal “natural law”, which is more fundamental than the laws written by legislators for any particular nation. It’s the precursor of the tradition, via Cicero, that leads to the concept of “universal human rights” in modern politics and international law.

Nothing to kill or die for

The Stoics believed that, ultimately, all human conflict is the consequence of excessive attachment to external goods of one sort or another.

Well then, did you never see little dogs caressing and playing with one another, so that you might say, there is nothing more friendly? but that you may know what friendship is, throw a bit of flesh among them, and you will learn. Throw between yourself and your son a little estate, and you will know how soon he will wish to bury you and how soon you wish your son to die. — Epictetus, Discourses, 2.22

Lennon implies that without nations there would be no wars and the Stoics have the same idealistic vision: that if we treated every living human being as our kin and shared our resources in common there would, in theory at least, no longer be any reason to fight one another.

And no religion too

We’re told one controversial feature of Zeno’s ideal Republic was that temples would be completely abolished, which perhaps implies no priesthood. That appears to mean that there would be no room for organized religion as we normally understand it, although presumably ancient Stoic citizens could still worship Zeus in private, as that was typically part of their philosophy.

Why do we seek gods any further? Whatever you see, whatever you experience, is Jupiter.

For instance, Seneca’s nephew, Lucan, was also a Stoic. He wrote an epic poem about the Great Roman Civil War called The Pharsalia, in which the Stoic hero, Cato of Utica is portrayed leading the shattered remnants of the Republican army to make a final stand against Julius Caesar. While marching through the deserts of North Africa, an officer suggests that Cato should, as would be expected, consult a nearby shrine in order to obtain from the priests a prophecy about the outcome of the war. Cato, however, refuses to do so, giving his Stoic beliefs as a reason:

We are all connected with the gods above, and even if the shrine is silent
we do nothing without God’s will; no need has deity of any
utterances: the Creator told us at our birth once and always
whatever we can know. Did he select the barren sands
to prophesy to a few and in this dust submerge the truth
and is there any house of God except the earth and sea and air
and sky and excellence? Why do we seek gods any further?
Whatever you see, whatever you experience, is Jupiter. — Lucan, Pharsalia

Though written three centuries after Zeno’s Republic, that seems to echo the idea that Stoics, being sincere pantheists, would see no need for temples or such religious trappings. Zeus is present everywhere, not just in temples, and he resides in everyone — the clergy don’t have any privileged status in that regard. Indeed, to a large extent, traditional Greek and Roman religious practices may have appeared to the philosophers as little more than superstition.

Imagine all the people living life in peace…

Zeno said that the goal of Stoicism was “living in agreement”, which implied living harmoniously with oneself, with universal Nature, and with the rest of mankind. He also describes this as the goal of having a “smoothly flowing” life. This comes from a kind of friendship or love:

Zeno of Citium thought that Love was the God of Friendship and Liberty and the author of concord among people, but nothing else. Hence, he says in his Republic, that “Love is a God, who cooperates in securing the safety of the city.” — Athenaeus of Naucratis, Deipnosophistae

To quote another song Lennon helped write: “All you need is love.” The love of the philosophers, though, is non-possessive and universal. It’s a bond of brotherly love that unites all the citizens of the ideal society in friendship.

You may say I’m a dreamer
But I’m not the only one

As we’ll see below, Plutarch tells us that Zeno’s book The Republic, was presented as though in a dream, i.e., like Imagine it’s intended as a Utopian vision of society.

I hope some day you’ll join us
And the world will be as one

This notion of the unity or brotherhood of mankind arguably comes, via Christianity, from the Stoics. It’s certainly characteristically Stoic. We can see it as closely-related, once again, to their pantheism — the belief that Zeus or God is synonymous with Nature. If the universe considered as a whole is sacred then we should strive to think of life in terms of the big picture and ourselves as parts of that whole. Marcus compares individual humans to the limbs of an organism, whereas today we could speak of individual people as be comparable to cells in the body of the universe as a whole.

From that vision of individuals as parts of a greater whole, though, it follows that we should also try to view ourselves as part of mankind as a whole rather than as atomistic individuals, fragmented and alienated from one another.

It is impossible to cut a branch from the branch to which it is attached unless you cut it from the tree as a whole; and likewise, a human being cut off from a single one of his fellows has dropped out of the community as a whole. Now in the case of the branch, someone else cuts it off, but a human being cuts himself off from his neighbour of his own accord, when he comes to hate him and turns his back on him; and he fails to see that by doing this, he has cut himself off from society as a whole. — Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 11.8

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people sharing all the world…

The much-admired Republic of Zeno, the founder of the Stoic sect, may be summed up in this one main principle: that all the inhabitants of this world of ours should not live differentiated by their respective rules of justice into separate cities and communities…

In the final verse, Lennon makes it fairly explicit that he’s describing a sort of socialist Utopian state, in which property is held in common.

“‘Imagine’, which says: ‘Imagine that there was no more religion, no more country, no more politics,’ is virtually the Communist Manifesto, even though I’m not particularly a Communist and I do not belong to any movement. — John Lennon

He reputedly said that he didn’t mean Chinese or Russian communism but something more “British”. Diogenes Laertius and other sources imply that in Zeno’s Republic property would be held in common and money deemed unnecessary. For instance, in a seldom-quoted passage, the satirist Lucian describes the Stoic vision of an ideal society:

All sorts of things that go on here, such as robbery, assault, unfair gain, you will never find attempted there, I believe; their relations are all peace and unity; and this is quite natural, seeing that none of the things which elsewhere occasion strife and rivalry, and prompt men to plot against their neighbours, so much as come in their way at all. Gold, pleasures, distinctions, they never regard as objects of dispute; they have banished them long ago as undesirable elements. Their life is serene and blissful, in the enjoyment of legality, equality, liberty, and all other good things. — Lucian, Hermotimus, or the Rival Philosophies

However, the original expression of these basic Stoic themes is perhaps captured in the brief description given by Plutarch:

Moreover, the much-admired Republic of Zeno, the founder of the Stoic sect, may be summed up in this one main principle: that all the inhabitants of this world of ours should not live differentiated by their respective rules of justice into separate cities and communities, but that we should consider all men to be of one community and one polity, and that we should have a common life and an order common to us all, even as a herd that feeds together and shares the pasturage of a common field. This Zeno wrote, giving shape to a dream or, as it were, shadowy picture of a well-ordered and philosophic commonwealth. — Plutarch, On the fortune or the virtue of Alexander

Although perhaps at first the comparison may have sounded far-fetched, I hope that by now it will be more apparent that the dream of a philosophical commonwealth in Zeno’s Republic really does sound remarkably like the Utopia of Lennon’s Imagine

Interview with Kasey Pierce of Source Point Press

Interview with Kasey Pierce of Source Point Press

I recently had the pleasure to talk to Kasey about her passion for Stoicism and how it helped her both personally and in her career as a comic book writer and editor.

Q: Can you tell us a little bit about yourself and your work?

Absolutely! First I would like to thank you for this interview. This is truly an honor. I’m a writer from the Metro Detroit area and my prose horror novella, Pieces of Madness (Rocket ink Studios), gave me residency on the comic convention circuit in 2015. This book of short horror stories (about the insane, cultist, and paranormal) picked up a bit of a subterranean following.

Shortly after, I joined the ranks of Source Point Press and created the Norah comic series (illustrated by Sean Seal). I’m so grateful to say this hand-painted sci-fi noir was met with great reception, became film-optioned, and made me one of flagship creators of the company. Pieces of Madness saw a deluxe rerelease in 2018 and my Viking witch one-shot series, Seeress, was released in 2019 (illustrated by Jay Jacot). This year, we introduced the next four-issue arch to the Norah series, illustrated by Kelly O’Hara.

Up until this book, I was only familiar with the term “stoic” with a lowercase “s”; an adjective to describe someone as strong and silent. As I listened, I realized what was being said was reinforcing an overall perspective I’ve exercised in my own life.

However, a large part of my brand was built on inspiring fellow comic creators. I’ve presented my panel on direct selling in indie comics, Good Luck with That, at many shows in the US, Canada, and overseas. This talk gives insight into not only how to sell your work, but how to summarize and pitch it to both the con-goer and potential publisher. Part memoir, it also sheds light on many misconceptions new creators have coming into the industry.

Currently, I run editing company, Red Pen Media; offering editing, copywriting, and creative advising.

Q: How did you first become interested in Stoicism?

From your book, How to Think Like a Roman Emperor. That’s the honest to God truth.

I’m an Audible fanatic and if you go through my library, you’ll see that I’m also a fan of books that promote personal empowerment. I had just finished Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth and How to Think… was suggested by the app.

Q: How has Stoicism benefitted you in your personal life?

Up until this book, I was only familiar with the term “stoic” with a lowercase “s”; an adjective to describe someone as strong and silent. As I listened, I realized what was being said was reinforcing an overall perspective I’ve exercised in my own life. Only I always referred to it as “being a mercenary”. My describing myself that way might surprise some of my followers. They know me as being an upbeat, warm, and loving person. Well, that’s because I am. “Being a mercenary” to me never meant being cold. It was a perspective that dismantled things and events and kept me from unnecessarily exalting them. In other words, I saw things in black and white.

Keeping myself from spending time in hurt and grief gave me more time to spend on things that would propel my success. I would tell myself “I just don’t have time for this”, because really, I didn’t. For example, social media has provided a podium for users to consistently self-aggrandize, whine, or vaguely speak ill of another person. I would always remind myself that by acknowledging and getting wrapped up in these meaningless posts, I was giving power to the one who posted it; power over me, my time, and my emotions. I-DON’T-HAVE-TIME-FOR-THAT. Period.

Years ago, I practiced dismantling the pleasure of junk food to lose 115 lbs. I looked at nutrition facts just to read the list of chemicals that I couldn’t believe were fit for human consumption. Now, as I maintain my weight through intermittent fasting, whenever I feel a slight hunger pang and the temptation to break my fast early, I remind myself that hunger goes away — that it’s a temporary feeling. In terms of relationships, I’ve left men for the sake of the bigger picture. I’d remind myself that I was doing what was necessary and in our best interests in the long run. That heartbreak was also temporary.

This book helped me look at death for what it is: natural and inevitable. It’s normal to mourn but it’s the value-judgments we place on death that makes it more terrible than it needs to be.

Although this book gave a name to my existing perspective, I know I found this book at the perfect time in my life. Not only did it give me a name for my outlook, but it changed my perspective on death. My mother has had Alzheimer’s for some time now. However, considering she’s the survivor of two rounds of brain cancer and a stroke, her being alive today is a miracle I gladly embrace. Recently, I’ve been trying to mentally prepare myself for the inevitable.

This book helped me look at death for what it is: natural and inevitable. It’s normal to mourn but it’s the value-judgments we place on death that makes it more terrible than it needs to be. I would rather focus on the wonderful time I had with my mother instead of getting swept up in my loss. I know that grief will cripple me if I let it, keeping me from doing what’s necessary for my loved ones that are still living. I find the cognitive rehearsal of the event to be like grabbing a snake at the head instead of its middle. It gives me much more control and in turn, makes me all the more calm and rational.

Q: How has learning about Stoicism influenced your career?

Looking back on my early writing career, the mentors I picked up also had similar viewpoints. Source Point Press’ editor-n-chief, Travis McIntire, made no bones about pointing out if arguments I was making came from a rational place, or a precious creator’s ego. Thanks to him, and fellow creators like David Hayes, I learned to spot the difference.

Since I started in comics, the most tiresome question I get asked pertains to what it feels like to be a woman in the industry and if I suffer backlash from misogyny. I get ahead of this question by answering it in my panel with “always question the intent”. This is to say that where I’m expected to get angry about a prejudice a con-goer might have, I instead see it as an opportunity. I consider that some men may just be misguided without realizing it.

In the grand scheme, mankind wants to think and do the right thing. That’s why sometimes I pitch the book without saying I’m the writer. Once I get them genuinely engrossed in a pitch, one that mentions biowarfare and the works of Heinlein, it’s fun to watch their surprise when I ask if I can sign it for them because I’m the writer. Their response becomes a rewarding feeling because in that moment, I became an educator. Hopefully I also started the ball rolling in changing their perspective on women and what we’re expected to create (without relentlessly mentioning that I’m a female).

Q: What’s your favorite Stoic quote and why?

“It can only ruin your life if it ruins your character. Otherwise it cannot harm you — inside or out.” — Marcus Aurelius

I always say “nine times out of ten, worst case scenario is never anything we can’t bounce back from”. I think Marcus’ words here really enforce that. This quote also reveals the difference between what really matters and what doesn’t. It forces us to take a good look at what we may be giving power over us without realizing it. Truly an empowering quote if there ever was one.

Q: What are you working on at the moment?

A paranormal space opera about Alzheimer’s called The Other People Who Live Here (comic series).

You can find Kasey on Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook, and find her work online in comics stores. Her consultancy business Red Pen Media is also on Facebook.

Hi everyone,

Hi everyone,

Just a quick message to let you know that the Modern Stoicism organization has just launched a new podcast.

Adam Piercey is recording the show, and you can find the introductory episode at the link below:

Listen to the First Modern Stoicism Podcast

Modern Stoicism is a nonprofit organization, based in the UK, and run by a multi-disciplinary team of volunteers. It was founded in 2012 by Christopher Gill, Professor Emeritus of Ancient Thought at Exeter University in England. (I’m also one of the founding members.)

Please feel free to get in touch if you have any suggestions for new topics or guests. Hope you enjoy!

Donald Robertson

What the Stoic Philosophers Learned from Combat Sports

What the Stoic Philosophers Learned from Combat Sports

The art of living is more like the wrestler’s art than the dancer’s in this regard, that it must stand ready and firm to meet whatever happens to it, even when unforeseen. — Marcus Aurelius

Greek and Roman youths often engaged in combat sports, including wrestling, boxing, and also the pankration, which combined elements of both. It is no surprise that we find many references to these sports in the writings of ancient philosophers, many of whom participated in their youth, and later watched others compete.

The Historia Augusta says that in his youth the Stoic philosopher, and Roman emperor, Marcus Aurelius was “fond of boxing and wrestling”, and that he had been trained to fight in armour. However, we’re told that over time he became more physically frail, suffering from chronic health problems, and his interest in philosophy came to distract him from these physical pursuits.

The Stoic philosopher must be psychologically resilient, he’s saying, and prepared in advance to meet the blows of fortune, like a wrestler facing his opponent.

Nevertheless, Marcus’ early enthusiasm for these sports inspired him to write of boxing, wrestling and pankration in The Meditations. In the quote above, he describes the whole “art of living” as resembling the art of wrestling. The Stoic philosopher must be psychologically resilient, he’s saying, and ready in advance to defend himself against the blows of fortune. Life is not like a being dancer with a co-operative partner, but more like being a wrestler facing an adversary — if we’re not prepared for misfortune it may overthrow us.

As well as wrestling in his youth, Marcus led a dance troupe called the College of the Salii. They performed ritual dances dedicated to Mars, the god of war, while dressed in arcane armour, carrying shields and weapons. For Roman youths, martial dance was a stylized way of rehearsing fighting moves, perhaps a little bit like the “patterns” or kata of east Asian martial arts.

When Marcus says that the basic Stoic attitude toward life is more like that of a wrestler than a dancer, he’s speaking from years of personal experience in both disciplines. As we’ll see, the idea that the mind-set of a philosopher should resemble a fighting stance had already been stressed centuries earlier by one of the leaders of the Stoic school.

Elsewhere, Marcus elaborates on different aspects of this analogy, such as in the following passage. His point here is that we should view misfortune in daily life as if it were training in the gymnasium, and our opponents, as if they were sparring partners. We should focus on how we grow stronger and more skilled by learning how to respond actively to misfortune, rather than allowing ourselves to respond passively, by becoming resentful.

In the gymnasium, someone may have scratched us with his nails or have collided with us and struck us a blow with his head, but, for all that, we do not mark him down as a bad character, or take offence, or view him with suspicion afterwards as one who wishes us ill. To be sure, we remain on our guard, but not in a hostile spirit or with undue suspicion; we simply try to avoid him in a friendly manner. So let us behave in much the same way in other areas of life: let us make many allowances for those who are, so to speak, the companions of our exercises. For it is possible, as I have said, to avoid them, and yet to view them neither with suspicion nor hatred. — Meditations, 6.20

Everyone who poses a challenge for us in life, in other words, is a “companion of our exercises” or potential sparring partner — friends, family, colleagues, etc. They all give us an opportunity to exercise wisdom and temperance.

In another well-known passage, Marcus compares the principles of Stoic philosophy to weapons.

In the application of one’s principles, one should resemble a pankratiast, and not a gladiator. For the gladiator lays aside the sword which he uses and then takes it up again, but the pankratiast always has his fist and simply needs to clench it. — Meditations, 12.9

Indeed, Marcus describes the ultimate goal of Stoicism, as becoming:

…a wrestler in the greatest contest of all, never to be overthrown by any [toxic] passion, deeply steeped in justice, welcoming with his whole heart all that comes about and is allotted to him, and never, except under some great necessity and for the good of his fellows, giving thought to [i.e., worrying about] what another is saying or doing or thinking.— Meditations, 3.4

If we can view life as a wrestling match, and people who bother us as sparring partners, who can help us improve our skills, he thinks we become like wrestlers in the greatest of all contests. As he says here, these skills involve learning to not be overthrown by unhealthy “passions” such as fear or anger, practising contentment with our lives, and not allowing ourselves to worry much about what other people think of us (unless it can somehow helps us do good in life).

Stoicism as Wrestling in Epictetus

The philosopher whom Marcus Aurelius quotes most often is the Stoic teacher Epictetus, who liked to compare training in philosophy to the instructions given by ancient wrestling coaches: if you fall get back up again, and keep fighting, if you want to become stronger.

But see what the trainers of boys do. Has the boy fallen? Rise, they say, wrestle again till you are made strong. Do you also do something of the same kind: for be well assured that nothing is more adaptable than the human soul. — Discourses, 4.9

Like Marcus, Epictetus portrays philosophy as the greatest fight of all, for the prize of good fortune and happiness.

For we must not shrink when we are engaged in the greatest combat, but we must even take blows. For the combat before us is not in wrestling and the pankration, in which both the successful and the unsuccessful may have the greatest merit, or may have little, and in truth may be very fortunate or very unfortunate; but the combat is for good fortune and happiness themselves. — Discourses, 3.25

However, this metaphor was probably already common in Stoicism before the time of Epictetus.

“…opposing judgment and forethought like arms and hands to the strokes of fortune and the snares of the wicked, lest in any way a hostile and sudden onslaught be made upon us when we are unprepared and unprotected.”

Stoicism as Wrestling in Panaetius

In a less well-known passage, from the Roman grammarian Aulus Gellius, we find the same analogy being attributed to Panaetius, the last head or “scholarch” of the Athenian Stoic school. The chapter in Aulus Gellius’ Attic Nights is titled:

Of an opinion of the philosopher Panaetius, which he expressed in his second book On Duties, where he urges men to be alert and prepared to guard against injuries on all occasions.

He notes that Panaetius’ On Duties had particularly influenced Cicero, generations earlier. In it, says Gellius, was to be found an “incentive to virtue”, which ought especially to be kept fixed in the mind. Almost three centuries before Marcus Aurelius, Panaetius states very clearly that the Stoic wise man must adopt a mental attitude, of constant mindfulness and vigilance, resembling the fighting stance of a pankratiast:

The life of men who pass their time in the midst of affairs, and who wish to be helpful to themselves and to others, is exposed to constant and almost daily troubles and sudden dangers. To guard against and avoid these one needs a mind that is always ready and alert, such as the athletes have who are called ‘pankratiasts.’

Panaetius continues, by describing the fighting stance of an ancient pankratiast:

For just as they, when called to the contest, stand with their arms raised and stretched out, and protect their head and face by opposing their hands as a rampart; and as all their limbs, before the battle has begun, are ready to avoid or to deal blows — so the spirit and mind of the wise man, on the watch everywhere and at all times against violence and wanton injuries, ought to be alert, ready, strongly protected, prepared in time of trouble, never flagging in attention, never relaxing its watchfulness, opposing judgment and forethought like arms and hands to the strokes of fortune and the snares of the wicked, lest in any way a hostile and sudden onslaught be made upon us when we are unprepared and unprotected.— Aulus Gellius, Attic Nights

I think these older passages from the Middle Stoa, centuries before Marcus was writing, help to provide some more context for his remarks. They give us a more complete idea of what the Stoics meant by saying that the art of living is like the art of wrestling. It means being constantly mindful, alert, and prepared in advance to meet life’s challenges. The wise man, in other words, is never to be caught off guard by the blows of fortune.

Typo. Fixed.

What can ancient Greece tell us about pandemic?

What can ancient Greece tell us about pandemic?

[Socrates] was so well-disciplined in his way of life that on several occasions when plague broke out in Athens he was the only man who escaped infection. — Diogenes Laertius

In 430 BC, Athens was devastated by plague. We don’t know exactly what caused it but it’s been speculated that it was a form of typhus, typhoid, or possibly smallpox. What happened during the Athenian Plague seems to foreshadow aspects of the current COVID-19 pandemic. Our own experiences probably also help us to better understand what the ancient Athenians must have been going through. I won’t labour the obvious parallels but rather I’ll just tell the story and mention some comparisons briefly along the way…

The epidemic spread throughout the Mediterranean but Athens, the largest and most cosmopolitan city in the region, was hit hardest of all. Attica, the area encompassing Athens, had a total population of roughly a quarter of a million, including thousands of foreign residents and maybe a hundred thousand slaves. The disease was apparently brought into the Greek port of Piraeus by travellers and merchants, from whence it quickly escalated into an epidemic, tearing through the population of neighbouring Athens.

After the first outbreak began to relent, the Athenians must have breathed a collective sigh of relief. Unfortunately, though, there were two further major outbreaks of the plague in Athens, occurring in 429 and 427 BC. Altogether, it killed approximately one third of the population, including Pericles himself, their most senior statesman and general. Even worse, the plague struck at the outset of the lengthy Peloponnesian War (431–404 BC), in which Athens and her allies, known as the Delian League, faced Sparta at the head of the rival Peloponnesian League.

The Spartans and their allies had just invaded Attica, the area surrounding Athens, when the plague struck the city, but it didn’t really affect the Peloponnese region, where Sparta is located. The Spartans occupied Attica for 40 days, we’re told, before departing, possibly frightened off by the plague affecting Athens. So the plague’s effect on the war was very one-sided. As we’ll see, the philosopher Socrates, was caught right in the middle of all this.

The Plague in Homer’s Iliad

To understand fifth century Athens you have to turn to the eighth century writings of Homer, which formed part of the foundation of Greek culture. Every educated Athenian knew very well that The Iliad opens with the tale of a terrible plague that afflicted the Greek army besieging Troy. Particularly from a religious perspective, this story loomed large in their minds when faced with their own plague.

Homer says that the Greek king Agamemnon seized the daughter of one of Apollo’s Trojan priests and refused to return her in exchange for a ransom. In desperation, the girl’s father prayed to Apollo, “god of the silver bow,” asking him:

If I have ever decked your temple with garlands, or burned your thigh-bones in fat of bulls or goats, grant my prayer, and let your arrows avenge these my tears upon the Greeks. — The Iliad

Apollo was indeed angry and sent a plague to punish Agamemnon and the Greek army camped on the beaches of Troy.

He came down furious from the summits of Olympus, with his bow and his quiver upon his shoulder, and the arrows rattled on his back with the rage that trembled within him. He sat himself down away from the ships with a face as dark as night, and his silver bow rang death as he shot his arrow in the midst of them. First he smote their mules and their hounds, but presently he aimed his shafts at the people themselves, and all day long the pyres of the dead were burning. — The Iliad

Homer says this continued for ten days before the hero Achilles, complaining “we are being cut down by war and pestilence at once”, consulted a seer to learn why Apollo was angry, and how the Greeks could appease him. The plague was finally lifted when they dedicated a day to praying, singing hymns to the gods, and making sacrifices, and returned the captured girl to her father, the priest of Apollo.

The Iliad was as important to fifth century Athenians as The Bible is to Christians. This story comes in the very opening lines — it was extremely well-known. The Plague of Athens was therefore inevitably attributed to having angered the god Apollo, through hubris. Although this famous tale from The Iliad still loomed large in their minds, nevertheless, the Athenians soon discovered that no amount of sacrifice to the gods would offer them protection from the plague that now ravaged their home.

Thucydides

Our main source for information about the Athenian Plague is the History of the Peloponnesian War written by the Athenian general Thucydides. He echoes Homer’s words when he says of his countrymen that both “war and pestilence at once pressed heavy upon them.”

Thucydides was in an extraordinary position to provide an account as he actually contracted the plague and survived to tell the tale.

I shall simply set down its nature, and explain the symptoms by which perhaps it may be recognized by the student, if it should ever break out again. This I can the better do, as I had the disease myself, and watched its operation in the case of others. — Thucydides

He claims the disease was first reported in Africa, passing from Ethiopia into Egypt and Libya. It then crossed the Mediterranean Sea, and appeared in the port of Piraeus, before spreading to neighbouring Athens. Thucydides describes it as the worst plague anyone could recall: “a pestilence of such extent and mortality was nowhere remembered.”

The Symptoms

Thucydides says physicians could not identify the cause of the disease, in order to agree upon a diagnosis. He describes the symptoms in detail, although not always in a way that would help us retrospectively diagnose the condition. Symptoms began suddenly when people, even those in good health, were afflicted by overwhelming sensations of heat in their head, and reddening and inflammation in their eyes. The throat and tongue also typically became bloody and emitted an unusual and extremely unpleasant odour.

These initial symptoms were followed by by sneezing and hoarseness. Pain then spread to the chest, and a hard cough would develop. The illness would sometimes affect the stomach, causing upset, and “discharges of bile of every kind named by physicians ensued, accompanied by very great distress.” In most of these cases an ineffectual retching followed, accompanied by violent spasms. Sometimes this lasted only a short while, sometimes longer.

The skin would become reddish and livid, breaking out into small pustules and ulcers. However, the body was neither very hot to the touch nor pale in appearance. Internally, though, sufferers reported a burning sensation and often expressed a desire to strip naked as they could not bear clothing or even the very lightest linen to touch their skin. What they said they craved most was to throw themselves into cold water. Some of the untended, Thucydides claims, actually plunged themselves into the city’s rainwater tanks to quench their agonizing thirst. However, it made no difference how much they drank.

Moreover, those afflicted by the disease were continually tormented by an inability to sleep or even rest. The body did not actually waste away while the fever was still at its height. This meant that victims typically survived to be tortured by these and other unpleasant symptoms. When they finally succumbed, usually around the seventh or eighth day, due to internal inflammation, they still had some strength in their limbs. If they survived this stage, and the disease descended further into the bowels, it induced violent ulceration there leading to severe diarrhea, which would weaken and finally kill them.

In other words, Thucydides says, symptoms began in the head, and spread through the whole of the body. Indeed, even when the victims survived they would still be left with permanent damage to their extremities. The disease could reach the genitals, fingers and the toes, and many survived but lost these. Some also lost their sight. Some had complete amnesia at first, on recovering, and did not recognize either themselves or their friends. Thucydides also claims that birds and other animals that feed on corpses disappeared and that domestic dogs were infected by the plague and showed broadly similar symptoms to humans.

Depression

However, Thucydides claims that by far the worst symptom was the profound depression into which many sufferers were cast by discovering they had the illness, leaving them feeling helpless and without the will to fight for their lives. (Some people have reported feeling profoundly depressed after developing COVID-19 symptoms, there have been suicides, and others have experienced mental health problems simply due to the social impact of the pandemic.)

Effect of Overpopulation

At the outset of the Peloponnesian War, Pericles had withdrawn his troops behind the safety of Athens’ city walls. His strategy involved relying on Athens’ superior navy against Sparta and her allies. However, this led to the sudden migration of many families from rural Attica, seeking protection in Athens. With the city straining to accommodate the influx of refugees, and public hygiene suffering, Athens now provided a perfect breeding ground for infectious disease.

An aggravation of the existing calamity was the influx from the country into the city, and this was especially felt by the new arrivals. As there were no houses to receive them, they had to be lodged at the hot season of the year in stifling cabins, where the mortality raged without restraint. The bodies of dying men lay one upon another, and half-dead creatures reeled about the streets and gathered round all the fountains in their longing for water. — Thucydides

Many sought refuge in the temples but these ended up full of the corpses of others who had died there. (COVID-19 has spread particularly quickly through care homes, and other residences where vulnerable individuals live in close proximity to one another — it has also spread rapidly through some densely populated modern cities, such as London and NYC.)

Treatment

Thucydides tells us that physicians, at first, had no idea what to do in response to the plague and were therefore of little help to anyone. Diets and other treatments they tried had no consistent benefits. Both the strong and weak alike were struck down and died.

Religion/Superstition

Ancient Greeks typically assumed that plagues were sent as a punishment from the gods, as in The Iliad. Thucydides says that as the physicians failed to treat the initial outbreak, the people quickly turned to temples for divine guidance. This proved to be no help either. The people tried offering ritual sacrifices to the gods, he says, until “the overwhelming nature of the disaster at last put a stop to them altogether.” Sufferers crowded in temples, seeking help, along with homeless refugees from the Attic countryside, but the disease spread quickly among those living in cramped conditions, in close proximity to one another.

During wars, a catastrophe such as a plague was naturally viewed as a sign that the gods favoured the opposing side, in this case the Spartans and their Peloponnesian allies. Apollo, the god of healing, was also the god of plagues, as we’ve seen. Perhaps this had implications for Socrates’ claim that he was serving the god Apollo by pursuing the study of philosophy. The plague added greatly to the fear of angering the gods. Impiety, was of course, one of the charges that ultimately led to Socrates’ execution, albeit three decades after the plague. (During the modern pandemic conspiracy theories and pseudoscience flourish — we don’t blame the god Apollo but look for other scapegoats.)

Deaths of Carers and Physicians

As they were in frequent close contact with the infected, physicians and carers became infected themselves. The greatest number of deaths, Thucydides says, came from people who caught the disease while nursing others. Either victims perished alone, through neglect, because others were afraid to visit their homes, or those tending them risked their own lives in doing so, and many died in this way. Athenians were therefore thrown into abject despair by what Thucydides calls the “the awful spectacle of men dying like sheep”.

This had the baleful consequence that many of the best, and most honourable, citizens were the first to die. Some brave souls tried to do good and selflessly attended sick friends, “where even the members of the family were at last worn out by the moans of the dying, and succumbed to the force of the disaster.” However, they risked their own lives and were often lost as a result. Over time, though, those who had recovered from the disease themselves found that they could attend to the sick without becoming reinfected.

These knew what it was from experience, and had now no fear for themselves; for the same man was never attacked twice — never at least fatally. And such persons not only received the congratulations of others, but themselves also, in the elation of the moment, half entertained the vain hope that they were for the future safe from any disease whatsoever. — Thucydides

(Today, doctors and nurses have been particularly exposed to the novel coronavirus, and many have died while trying to administer care to others. Perhaps if some people do acquire lasting immunity, they could find themselves in a position to help sufferers.)

Multiple Outbreaks

The Athenians were relieved when the initial outbreak of the plague was over. Unfortunately, their troubles were just beginning. They had to face another two major outbreaks, the second of which claimed Pericles, their leader. (We’ve yet to see whether the coronavirus will return in waves after the initial outbreaks, although epidemiologists warn this is likely, so society should prepare in advance.)

Moral Panic / Law and Order

According to Thucydides, the impact of the plague on Athenian society led to a breakdown in law and order. We’re told that as people realized their lives were in serious peril, they began to disregard the law, and started committing more crimes. The response was a clamp-down with more draconian laws being passed to try to tighten control.

As the disaster passed all bounds, men, not knowing what was to become of them, became utterly careless of everything, whether sacred or profane. — Thucydides

Established burial rites were abandoned and bodies had to be disposed of with less care, e.g., tossed on an existing funeral pyre. Thucydides may also be alluding to the use of mass graves, one of which, a shaft containing 240 bodies, was uncovered by archaeologists in Athens in the 1990s.

Thucydides says that “Men now coolly ventured on what they had formerly done in a corner”, acting dishonourably and without regard to the future. Many suddenly came into money when the wealthy died unexpectedly. They began squandering their wealth because they felt that their own lives could end at any moment. He writes: “Fear of gods or law of man there was none to restrain them.” People became disillusioned with religion as they readily saw that others suffered and died whether or not they sacrificed to the gods. Nobody respected the law because nobody expected to live long enough to be brought to trial and punished for his offences and they were, in any case, more afraid of the plague than of the courts. So they began to live for the moment and behaved recklessly. (We’ve not seen a major breakdown of law and order yet but there are some signs that the pandemic has affected policing and the criminal justice system.)

Socrates and the Plague

During the initial outbreak of the Athenian Plague, Socrates, aged around 38, was apparently serving as a hoplite, or heavy infantryman, in the Battle of Potidaea. In 432 BC, the Athenians had sent a force to attack the rebellious city of Potidaea, a former tribute-paying ally. They ended up laying siege to its defences for about three years, one of the events that triggered the ensuing Peloponnesian War.

Once the initial outbreak of plague hit Athens, it quickly spread to the soldiers who were now two years into their their siege of Potidaea. According to Thucydides, the troops camped at Potidaea were infected with the plague by reinforcements arriving from Athens. By this time, the Athenians camped by the enemy city had been cut off from their supplies and were suffering considerable hardship as a result. Socrates, however, is remembered for his self-discipline and resilience during the siege and epidemic.

During one intense battle, the Athenian lines broke, and their troops began to scatter in retreat. Alcibiades was wounded but Socrates single-handedly rescued him, saving his comrade’s life. Plato set The Charmides the day after Socrates returned from Potidaea. It says little about the events except for mentioning Socrates’ long absence from Athens on military service and the fact that on the journey home some of his friends had been slain in skirmishes. It perhaps comes across as though Socrates doesn’t want to dwell on the experience.

In Plato’s Symposium, however, Alcibiades is portrayed describing how, when they served together during the Potidaea campaign, Socrates would enter meditative trances to the amazement of his fellow soldiers. After recounting tales of Socrates’ bravery, Alcibiades quotes from Homer’s Odyssey, comparing him to the Ithacan king, adventurer, and general Odysseus.

You should hear what else he did during that same campaign, ‘The exploit our strong-hearted hero dared to do.’ One day, at dawn, he started thinking about some problem or other; he just stood outside, trying to figure it out. He couldn’t resolve it, but he wouldn’t give up. He simply stood there, glued to the same spot. By midday, many soldiers had seen him, and, quite mystified, they told everyone that Socrates had been standing there all day, thinking about something. He was still there when evening came, and after dinner some Ionians moved their bedding outside, where it was cooler and more comfortable (all this took place in the summer), but mainly in order to watch if Socrates was going to stay out there all night. And so he did; he stood in the very same spot until dawn! He only left next morning, when the Sun came out, and he made his prayers to the new day. — Plato, The Symposium

Socrates seems to have gotten on with life relatively untroubled while serving at Potidaea, despite the fact the Athenian camp was badly affected both by the disease and by having their supplies cut off. Whereas others panicked and struggled to cope with the food shortages, he seems to have remained more composed.

Xenophon, an accomplished Athenian general and close friend of Socrates, portrays him describing how he trained himself to endure hardship and deprivation.

Don’t you think that I, who am always training myself to put up with the things that happen to my body, find everything easier to bear than you do with your neglect of training? — Memorabilia

He adds:

Which could more readily go on military service — the man who can’t live without an expensive diet, or the one who is content with whatever is to hand? And which would be sooner reduced to surrender in a siege — the one whose requirements are most difficult to obtain, or the one who is satisfied with whatever he comes across? — Memorabilia

Today, lockdown and the other social consequences of the impact are a challenge for many people who struggle to put up with the change to their lifestyle. Socrates was a minimalist, though, untroubled by deprivation.

I have always thought that to need nothing is divine, and to need as little as possible is the nearest approach to the divine; and that what is divine is best, and what is nearest to the divine is the next best. — Memorabilia

During the siege of Potidaea, when the Athenians were dying from plague and starving for food, Socrates was apparently quite content, using the time to practice meditation and contemplate philosophy.

Below are links to two new articles that I wrote for The Guardian newspaper and the Institute of Art and Ideas (IAI). They were both shared by thousands of people online. I wanted to try to explain very simply why Marcus Aurelius and Stoicism might be relevant to people struggling with the psychological challenges of the pandemic.

• Stoicism in a time of pandemic: how Marcus Aurelius can help –– The Guardian
• Stoicism amid pandemic panic – The Institute of Art and Ideas

Thanks. Yes, of course, you can have my permission.

Marcus Aurelius and American Transcendentalism

Marcus Aurelius and American Transcendentalism

Let a Stoic open the resources of man, and tell men they are not leaning willows, but can and must detach themselves; that with the exercise of self-trust, new powers shall appear… and that teacher shall restore the life of man to splendor, and make his name dear to all history. — Emerson, Self-Reliance

The American poet and essayist Ralph Waldo Emerson was one of the leading figures of the Transcendentalist movement in the mid 19th century. There is some basic theoretical common ground between Stoic philosophy and Emerson’s writings, most notably that Emerson appears to believe that virtue is its own reward, a fundamental doctrine of Stoicism. For instance, he wrote:

The heroic soul does not sell its justice and its nobleness. It does not ask to dine nicely and to sleep warm. The essence of greatness is the perception that virtue is enough. — Heroism

That “virtue is enough” is something an ancient Stoic could easily have written. For the Stoics, virtue is the only true good and the belief, which they inherited from Socrates, that it is sufficient in itself for the good life is a cornerstone of their distinctive ethical position.

The quote above from Self-Reliance makes it clear that Emerson admires the Stoics. He also says in the same excerpt that Stoicism teaches “that a man is the word made flesh, born to shed healing to the nations, that he should be ashamed of our compassion, and that the moment he acts from himself, tossing the laws, the books, idolatries and customs out of the window, we pity him no more, but thank and revere him.”

Rather than carry out a detailed analysis of the parallels between Emerson’s thought and Stoic philosophy, though, I want to begin by accomplishing the more modest task of summarizing what he explicitly says about them. There are probably more references to the Stoics in his writings than most people realize. Emerson frequently mentions important precursors of Stoicism such as Socrates, Xenophon, and Diogenes the Cynic, as well as Academic philosophers influenced by them such as Cicero and Plutarch. He mentions the Stoics Epictetus and Seneca. However, the one he says most about is Marcus Aurelius, or as he sometimes calls him, using the cognomen of his imperial dynasty, Marcus Antoninus.

Emerson on the Stoics

Character, is the essay in which Emerson perhaps says most about the Stoics. There he argues that although they influenced many later authors, “with every repeater something of the creative force is lost”, and so we should “go back to each original moralist”, including the Stoics, in order to read such wisdom from those who “speak originally”.

However, Emerson believed that Stoicism expressed a kind of perennial wisdom such that when the mind attains enlightenment by its own means,

It converses with truths that have always been spoken in the world, and becomes conscious of a closer sympathy with Zeno [the founder of Stoicism] and Arrian [who wrote down the Discourses of Epictetus] than with persons in the house. — The Over-Soul

Emerson’s admiration for the Stoics is clear across many of his writings. He typically lists the Stoics alongside other great moralists, from Moses to Buddha, such as in the following passage:

In strictness, the vital refinements are the moral and intellectual steps. The appearance of the Hebrew Moses, of the Indian Buddha; in Greece, of the Seven Wise Masters, of the acute and upright Socrates, and of the stoic Zeno; in Judaea, the advent of Jesus, and, in modern Christendom, of the realists Huss, Savonarola and Luther, — are casual facts which carry forward races to new convictions and elevate the rule of life. — Civilization

For the sake of readability and brevity, I’ve omitted these lists from some of the quotes in this article, allowing us to focus more clearly on what Emerson is saying about the Stoics, although he’s often speaking more generally at the same time.

How much more are men than nations! the wise and good souls, the stoics in Greece and Rome, Socrates in Athens… than the foolish and sensual millions around them! so that, wherever a true man appears, everything usually reckoned great dwarfs itself; he is the only great event, and it is easy to lift him into a mythological personage. — Progress of Culture

In Society and Solitude, he lists the “The Sentences of Epictetus” and of Marcus Antoninus, i.e., The Encheiridion and The Meditations, respectively, as books that “acquired a semi-canonical authority in the world, as expressing the highest sentiment and hope of nations”. It’s perhaps telling that Emerson likes to refer to the Stoics as moral aphorists rather than systematizers of a complete philosophical worldview.

In an article titled The Sovereignty of Ethics, Emerson poses the question “How is the new generation to be edified?” He replies that “A new Socrates, or Zeno”, the founder of Stoicism, may be born into the modern world “and bring asceticism, duty, and magnanimity into vogue again.”

It is true that Stoicism, always attractive to the intellectual and cultivated, has now no temples, no academy, no commanding Zeno or [Marcus Aurelius] Antoninus. It accuses us that it has none… — The Sovereignty of Ethics

Emerson says that the ethics of Stoicism has not been formulated into concrete “scientific scriptures to become its Vulgate for millions” because it inspires us in the form of “joyful sparkles”, recorded for their beauty and the delight they give us; their priceless good to mankind is that “they charm and uplift, not that they are imposed.”

[Stoicism] has not yet its first hymn. But, that every line and word may be coals of true fire, ages must roll, ere these casual wide-falling cinders can be gathered into broad and steady altar-flame. — The Sovereignty of Ethics

Emerson on Marcus Aurelius Antoninus

Emerson holds Marcus Aurelius in especially high regard, such as in his essay titled Character, where he refers to “ a certain secular progress of opinion”, which makes the life and wisdom of ancient authors accessible to everyone, such that “Socrates and Marcus Aurelius are allowed to be saints”. Emerson says that his aunt, Mary Moody Emerson, an exceptionally well-read woman, was known to him as a fan of Marcus Antoninus. Perhaps it was to her that he owed his own interest in Marcus’ book, The Meditations.

In Culture, Emerson is apparently arguing that great men must be willing to be disliked by some.

He who aims high, must dread an easy home and popular manners.” Heaven sometimes hedges a rare character about with ungainliness and odium, as the burr that protects the fruit. If there is any great and good thing in store for you, it will not come at the first or the second call, nor in the shape of fashion, ease, and city drawing-rooms. Popularity is for dolls. “Steep and craggy,” said Porphyry, “is the path of the gods.”

However, this leads him immediately into the example of Marcus Aurelius:

Open your Marcus [Aurelius] Antoninus. In the opinion of the ancients, he was the great man who scorned to shine, and who contested the frowns of fortune. They preferred the noble vessel too late for the tide, contending with winds and waves, dismantled and unrigged, to her companion borne into harbor with colors flying and guns firing. There is none of the social goods that may not be purchased too dear, and mere amiableness must not take rank with high aims and self-subsistency. — Culture

In Character, Emerson claims that morality consists precisely in the direction of the will toward universal ends whereas vice focuses on securing our private ends. “He is moral, — we say it with Marcus Aurelius and with Kant, — whose aim or motive may become a universal rule, binding on all intelligent beings”, whereas the sacrifice of public good to a private interest is always the stamp of vice.

All the virtues are special directions of this motive; justice is the application of this good of the whole to the affairs of each one; courage is contempt of danger in the determination to see this good of the whole enacted; love is delight in the preference of that benefit redounding to another over the securing of our own share; humility is a sentiment of our insignificance when the benefit of the universe is considered. – Character

In the same essay, Emerson makes the intriguing claim that the “Maxims of Antoninus”, The Meditations, like The Upanishads, do not invade one’s freedom in the form of an external command, like the Bible does, but merely offer moral suggestions. He says this is “the secret of the mischievous result that, in every period of intellectual expansion, the Church ceases to draw into its clergy those who best belong there, the largest and freest minds”, and they find themselves coldly received and out of place whenever they do join the clergy. Whereas with the Stoics:

This charm in the Pagan moralists, of suggestion, the charm of poetry, of mere truth, (easily disengaged from their historical accidents which nobody wishes to force on us,) the New Testament loses by its connection with a church. — Character

In Character, Emerson also says that sufficiency of character leads us to ask, with Marcus Aurelius, “What matter by whom the good is done?”, in an expression of humility. He quotes this passage again in Greatness, in order to argue that a great man cares more about real learning than about the appearance of learning.

Say with Antoninus, “If the picture is good, who cares who made it? What matters it by whom the good is done, by yourself or an other?” If it is the truth, what matters who said it? If it was right, what signifies who did it? — Greatness

In the final analysis, though, although Emerson shares some fundamental beliefs in common with the Stoics, he tends to refer to them in a somewhat haphazard way. That’s his style, of course, but it makes it more difficult to compare his philosophy with theirs.

For example, in one place he quotes Marcus on the lack of affection found among the elite:

Marcus Antoninus says, that Fronto told him, “that the so-called high-born are for the most part heartless;” whilst nothing is so indicative of deepest culture as a tender consideration of the ignorant. — Considerations by the Way

Elsewhere he employs a saying from Marcus concerning belief in the gods:

The weight of the Universe is pressed down on the shoulders of each moral agent to hold him to his task. The only path of escape known in all the worlds of God is performance. You must do your work, before you shall be released. And as far as it is a question of fact respecting the government of the Universe, Marcus Antoninus summed the whole in a word, “It is pleasant to die, if there be gods; and sad to live, if there be none.” — Worship

In another essay, he quotes Marcus’ views on the relationship between morality and aesthetics:

All high beauty has a moral element in it, and I find the antique sculpture as ethical as Marcus Antoninus: and the beauty ever in proportion to the depth of thought. Gross and obscure natures, however decorated, seem impure shambles; but character gives splendor to youth, and awe to wrinkled skin and gray hairs. An adorer of truth we cannot choose but obey, and the woman who has shared with us the moral sentiment, — her locks must appear to us sublime. — Beauty

Emerson is more interested, in other words, in mining the Stoic literature for memorable sayings than in studying their main ideas or comparing them to his own. Perhaps that’s just like saying that he engages with them more as a poet than as a philosopher.

Emerson On Seneca

Emerson also says some interesting things about the Stoic philosopher Seneca in his essay on Plutarch.

Plutarch is genial, with an endless interest in all human and divine things; Seneca, a professional philosopher, a writer of sentences, and, though he keep a sublime path, is less interesting, because less humane; and when we have shut his book, we forget to open it again. There is a certain violence in his opinions, and want of sweetness. He lacks the sympathy of Plutarch. He is tiresome through perpetual didactics. He is not happily living. — Plutarch

Emerson does admire Seneca’s worldliness, in a sense, though.

Seneca was still more a man of the world than Plutarch; and, by his conversation with the Court of Nero, and his own skill, like Voltaire’s, of living with men of business and emulating their address in affairs by great accumulation of his own property, learned to temper his philosophy with facts. He ventured far, — apparently too far, — for so keen a conscience as he inly had. Yet we owe to that wonderful moralist illustrious maxims ; as if the scarlet vices of the times of Nero had the natural effect of driving virtue to its loftiest antagonisms. — Plutarch

Emerson quotes another author who refers to Seneca as a “pagan Christian” who would be good reading for “our Christian pagans”. Emerson himself goes on to describe Seneca as “Buddhist in his cold abstract virtue, with a certain impassibility beyond humanity.”

Emerson quotes Seneca as having called pity “that fault of narrow souls.” However, he contrasts that remark with Seneca’s saying “God divided man into men, that they might help each other” and “The good man differs from God in nothing but duration.” Like many commentators on Seneca, Emerson senses a contradiction between his life and morals: “His thoughts are excellent, if only be had the right to say them.”

Conclusion

Emerson perhaps didn’t embrace Stoicism more completely because he believed the perennial wisdom it contains can be found everywhere and is sometimes better exemplified in other sources.

Nature is upheld by antagonism. Passions, resistance, danger, are educators. We acquire the strength we have overcome. Without war, no soldier; without enemies, no hero. The sun were insipid, if the universe were not opaque. And the glory of character is in affronting the horrors of depravity, to draw thence new nobilities of power: as Art lives and thrills in new use and combining of contrasts, and mining into the dark evermore for blacker pits of night. What would painter do, or what would poet or saint, but for crucifixions and hells? And evermore in the world is this marvellous balance of beauty and disgust, magnificence and rats. Not Antoninus, but a poor washer-woman said, “The more trouble, the more lion; that’s my principle.” — Considerations by the Way

One thing certainly lacking in Emerson, which he nevertheless admires is the Stoic praise of “laconic” (concise, like a Spartan) speech.

Spartans, stoics, heroes, saints and gods use a short and positive speech. They are never off their centres. — The Superlative

However, Emerson’s flamboyant turn of phrase sometimes lends powerful expression to Stoic ideas. For instance, one of the major themes of his writings is, of course, self-reliance and he finds himself repeatedly turning to the Stoics when describing this ideal.

But what does the scholar represent? The organ of ideas, the subtle force which creates Nature and men and states; consoler, upholder, imparting pulses of light and shocks of electricity, guidance and courage. So let his habits be formed, and all his economies heroic; no spoiled child, no drone, no epicure, but a stoic, formidable, athletic, knowing how to be poor, loving labor, and not flogging his youthful wit with tobacco and wine; treasuring his youth. I wish the youth to be an armed and complete man; no helpless angel to be slapped in the face, but a man dipped in the Styx of human experience, and made invulnerable so, — self-helping. — The Man of Letters

Like the Stoic, and unlike the epicure, the ideal scholar, and indeed the ideal man in general, is both self-reliant and self-helping.