After a dinner with friends, someone reads aloud from the philosopher Quintus Sextius, and Seneca comes away on fire. Some philosophers leave you cold; Sextius makes you want to take on the world. That leads Seneca to a beautiful idea of what philosophy is: an inheritance we’re meant to grow, not just guard. The ancients found the remedies for the soul; our job is to learn when and how to use them, and to honor the great teachers of humanity as we’d honor our own.
From Seneca to Lucilius
Yesterday you were with us. You might complain if I’d said only “yesterday,” which is why I added “with us.” For as far as I’m concerned, you’re always with me. Some friends had dropped in, and on their account a slightly brighter fire was laid. Not the kind that usually bursts from the kitchen chimneys of the rich and alarms the night watch, but the modest blaze that tells you guests have arrived.
Our conversation wandered over various subjects, as it naturally does at dinner; it didn’t follow any line of thought to the end, but jumped from one topic to another. Then we had a book by Quintus Sextius the Elder read to us. He is a great man, if you trust my judgment at all, and a true Stoic, though he denies it himself.
A Writer Who Is Alive
Good gods, what strength and spirit you find in him! That isn’t true of all philosophers. Some with famous names write books that are dry as dust. They lay down rules, they argue, they quibble; they don’t put spirit into you, because they have none themselves. But when you read Sextius, you’ll say: “He’s alive; he’s strong; he’s free; he’s more than a man; he fills me with tremendous confidence before I even close the book.“
I’ll confess to you the state of mind I’m in when I read his work. I want to challenge every danger; I want to shout: “Why keep me waiting, Fortune? Come into the arena! Look, I’m ready for you!” I take on the spirit of someone looking for a place to test himself, a place to show what he’s worth:
And chafing among the gentle flocks, he prays
a foaming boar might cross his path, or else
a tawny lion come down from the hills.
I want something to overcome, something to test my endurance on. For this is another remarkable quality Sextius has: he’ll show you the grandeur of the happy life without making you despair of reaching it. You’ll understand that it is high, but within reach of anyone who has the will to seek it.
Gazing at Wisdom Like the Sky
And virtue herself will have the same effect on you: you’ll admire her and still hope to reach her. In my own case, at least, simply contemplating wisdom takes up much of my time. I gaze at her in wonder, the way I sometimes gaze at the sky itself, which I often look at as if I were seeing it for the first time.
An Inheritance to Grow
That’s why I revere the discoveries of wisdom and the people who made them. It’s a delight to come into the inheritance of so many who went before. It was for me that they stored up this treasure; it was for me that they worked. But we should act like a careful head of a household and increase what we’ve inherited. This inheritance will pass from me to those who come after me larger than before. Much remains to be done, and much always will, and someone born a thousand generations from now will still have the chance to add something more.
The Old Remedies, Newly Applied
But even if the old masters have discovered everything, one thing will always be new: the application, careful study, and organization of what others have discovered. Suppose prescriptions for healing the eyes have been handed down to us. I don’t need to search for new ones; still, these prescriptions have to be fitted to the particular disease and to its particular stage. Use this remedy to relieve roughness of the eyelids, that one to reduce swelling of the lids, this one to prevent sudden pain or a rush of tears, that one to sharpen the sight. Then combine these remedies, watch for the right time to use them, and apply the right treatment in each case.
The cures for the spirit, too, were discovered by the ancients; but it’s our task to learn how and when to apply them. Those who came before us accomplished a great deal, but they didn’t finish the work.
Honoring the Teachers of Humanity
Still, they deserve respect, and should be honored almost as gods. Why shouldn’t I keep statues of great people to fire my enthusiasm, and celebrate their birthdays? Why shouldn’t I always greet them with respect and honor? The reverence I owe my own teachers I owe equally to those teachers of the human race, the source from which the beginnings of such great blessings have flowed.
If I meet a consul or a praetor, I’ll pay him every honor his office usually receives: I’ll get off my horse, uncover my head, and step aside from the road. So then, shall I welcome into my soul with anything less than the highest respect Marcus Cato, the Elder and the Younger, Laelius the Wise, Socrates and Plato, Zeno and Cleanthes? I truly revere them, and I always rise to honor such noble names.
Farewell.
Breaking It Down: A Modern Take on Letter 64
Letter 64 is about what it feels like when philosophy comes alive. Quintus Sextius ran a school in Rome that blended Stoic and Pythagorean ideas, and Seneca found his writing electrifying. From that spark Seneca draws a lasting picture of learning: we inherit the wisdom of the past, and our duty is to apply it wisely and add to it. As a medical comparison, it fits well. Doctors don’t reinvent every treatment, but they must fit the right one to the right patient at the right time. Seneca’s list of heroes is all Greek and Roman men, the canon of his day; today the circle of “teachers of the human race” is happily much wider.
1. Friends stay with us
“You’re always with me.” Real friendship isn’t measured by the calendar. The people we love travel with us in thought.
2. Modest hospitality is enough
Seneca’s dinner had “the modest blaze that tells you guests have arrived,” not a showy feast. Warm company doesn’t need extravagance.
3. Seek writers with spirit
Some thinkers “don’t put spirit into you, because they have none themselves.” Read people whose words leave you braver and more alive.
4. Good reading builds courage
Sextius “fills me with tremendous confidence before I even close the book.” The right book at the right time can change how we face the week.
5. Want a worthy challenge
“I want something to overcome.” Growth needs resistance. Instead of dreading every difficulty, we can treat some as chances to test ourselves.
6. The good life is within reach
The happy life is “high, but within reach of anyone who has the will to seek it.” Great ideals shouldn’t discourage us; they should invite us.
7. Keep your sense of wonder
“I gaze at her in wonder, the way I sometimes gaze at the sky itself.” Wisdom, like the night sky, rewards us when we look at it as if for the first time.
8. We are heirs
Seneca feels the great thinkers worked for him. Every library, every tradition of learning, is an inheritance left for us by people we’ll never meet.
9. Grow what you inherit
We should “increase what we’ve inherited.” Whether it’s knowledge, a profession, or a community, our task is to leave it richer than we found it.
10. The work is never finished
“Much remains to be done, and much always will.” That’s not discouraging; it means each generation has something real to contribute.
11. Wisdom is in the application
“It’s our task to learn how and when to apply them.” Knowing the right principle isn’t enough; we have to fit it to the moment, like a good clinician fitting treatment to the patient.
12. Honor the teachers of humanity
“The reverence I owe my own teachers I owe equally to those teachers of the human race.” Gratitude to the great minds of the past keeps us humble and eager to learn.
Key Takeaways from Letter 64
- Carry your friends with you. Love isn’t limited by distance.
- Keep hospitality simple. Warmth matters more than show.
- Read books with spirit. Look for writers who make you braver.
- Welcome a good challenge. It’s how we find our strength.
- Believe the good life is reachable. It’s high but open to all who seek it.
- Look at wisdom with wonder. As if seeing the sky for the first time.
- Treat learning as an inheritance. Others worked so we could know.
- Add to what you’ve been given. Leave it larger than before.
- Apply wisdom wisely. The right remedy at the right time.
- Honor your teachers. Including the teachers of all humanity.
“Much remains to be done, and much always will.”
— Seneca, Letter 64
Keep Seneca With You
If this letter spoke to you
Pierre Hadot on philosophy as a daily practice, not just a theory.
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Next up: Letter 65 — On the First Cause
