Musonius Rufus

Lectures · Lecture 16

translated by A Stoic Mind (from the Greek)

16.1

A certain young man, whom his father was preventing from studying philosophy, though he wished to do so, asked him something like this: "Tell me, Musonius, must one obey one's parents in all things, or are there some matters in which one may disregard them?" And Musonius said: "That each person should obey his own mother or father seems admirable, and I for my part commend it. But let us consider what obeying is; or rather, let us first examine what sort of thing disobeying is, and who the disobedient man is, and then in that way we shall better see what sort of thing obedience is. Come then: if a father who is not a physician, and has no experience of what is healthful and what is harmful, should command something to his sick son as beneficial, but the thing should be harmful and disadvantageous, and its being such should not escape the notice of the sick son, does that son, by not doing what was commanded, disobey and become disobedient? Surely not. And what if a father, being himself sick, should ask for wine or food at the wrong time, when, if he took it, it would make his illness worse, and the son, knowing this, should not give it — does he in that case disobey his father? One cannot say so. And much less, I think, would anyone say that man is disobedient who, having a greedy father and being ordered by him to steal or to defraud someone of a deposit, does not comply with the command. Or do you not think there are some fathers who give such orders to their own sons? For I myself know a man so wicked that, having a son in the bloom of youth, he sold his beauty. If, then, that youth who had been sold, when he was sent by his father into disgrace, refused and did not go, should we say the youth was disobedient, or that he was exercising self-control? Or is this not even worth asking? For indeed disobeying and the disobedient man are matters of reproach and disgrace; but not doing what one ought not to do is no disgrace, but rather praiseworthy. So that whether it be a father, or a magistrate, or, by Zeus, even a master whose command a man does not carry out, when that person commands things evil or unjust or shameful, he is by no means disobedient, just as he neither does wrong nor errs; rather, that man alone is disobedient who takes no thought for and disregards things commanded rightly and honorably and advantageously. Such, then, is the disobedient man; but the obedient man is his opposite and stands opposed to him: he would be the one who listens to and willingly follows the person who advises what is fitting — this man is obedient. Hence a person obeys his own parents when, they advising good things, he does these willingly. Yet I say that even if a person does what he ought and what is advantageous for himself when his parents are not advising it, this man too obeys his parents; and that I say this rightly, consider as follows.

16.2

For the man who does what his father wishes and follows his father's wish obeys, I think, his father; but the man who does what he ought and what is better also follows his father's wish. In what way? Because all parents surely have goodwill toward their own children, and having goodwill they wish that whatever is necessary and advantageous should be done by them. Whoever, then, does what is fitting and advantageous does what his parents wish. And so, by doing these things, he obeys his parents, even if his parents do not order him in words to do them. This alone, then, is what the man who wishes to obey his parents ought to consider in each of his actions: whether what he is about to do is honorable and advantageous, and nothing else; for as soon as it is of such a kind, the very person who does it thereby obeys his parents. Do not, therefore, young man, be afraid that you will disobey your father, if, when your father commands things that are not fitting to do, you refrain from doing them, or, when he forbids things that are fitting, you refrain from not doing them. And do not let your father serve you as an excuse for going wrong, whether he commands something among the things that are not honorable to be done, or forbids something among the honorable things. For there is no necessity for you to carry out what is not well commanded; and this, I think, you yourself are not unaware of. Surely you would not put up with your father in matters of music, if he, having no understanding of music, should order you to strike the lyre unmusically; or if, though you know your letters, he who does not know them should order you to write and read not as you learned, but otherwise; nor indeed, if, though you know how to steer, he who is no pilot should order you to move the rudder as is not proper, would you heed him. What then? These things are so; but if your father should prevent you from studying philosophy, when you know and have heard what sort of thing philosophy is, while he himself is ignorant of it, ought you to heed him, or rather to teach him better, on the ground that he does not advise you well? To me it seems the latter. Now perhaps someone, using argument alone, might persuade his own father to think about philosophy as is fitting, provided the father is not utterly harsh in his nature. But if he should not be persuaded by argument nor follow it, still the very deeds of the son will altogether win him over, if the son truly practices philosophy. For one who practices philosophy will be most eager to serve his father with every kind of service, and most orderly and gentle, in his company least contentious or self-loving, and neither rash nor turbulent nor prone to anger; furthermore, he would be in control of his tongue, his belly, and sexual desires, and steadfast in the face of dangers and hardships; and most capable of understanding what is honorable, while not overstepping what appears honorable.

16.3

Hence he will yield to his father, willingly, in all pleasant things; but painful things he will take upon himself in preference to his father. Who, then, would not pray to the gods to have such a son? And who, having one, would not cherish him, through whom it would fall to him to be an enviable and blessed father in the eyes of all right-minded people? But if, young man, even being such as you will certainly be if you truly practice philosophy, you should not bring your father round, nor persuade him to permit you and allow you to do these things, consider this: your father forbids you to study philosophy; but the common father of all, of men and of gods alike, Zeus, commands and urges you to do so. For it is his command and his law that a man be just, kind, beneficent, self-controlled, high-minded, superior to hardships, superior to pleasures, free of all envy and all treachery; or, to put it briefly, the law of Zeus commands that a man be good. And being good is the same as being a philosopher. If, then, by obeying your father you are going to follow a man, but by practicing philosophy you are going to follow Zeus, it is clear that you ought rather to practice philosophy, and not the reverse. But, by Zeus, your father will confine you and keep you shut up, so that you may not practice philosophy. Perhaps he will do this; yet he will not keep you from practicing philosophy against your will. For we do not practice philosophy with the hand or the foot or with the rest of the body, but with the soul, and with a small part of it, which indeed we call the mind. And this the god has established in the most secure place, so that it is invisible and cannot be seized, and beyond all necessity, free and its own master. And besides, if it happens to be good, your father will not be able to prevent you either from using your mind, or from thinking what you ought, or from being pleased by honorable things and not pleased by shameful ones; nor, again, from choosing the one and avoiding the other. And by doing these things you would at once be practicing philosophy, and it will not be necessary for you either to wear a rough cloak by all means, or to go about without a tunic, or to let your hair grow long, or to depart from the common practice of the many. For though these things too befit philosophers, it is not in these that practicing philosophy consists, but in thinking what one ought and in reasoning rightly.