Lettera 5: On the Philosopher's Mean

I commend you and rejoice in the fact that you are persistent in your studies, and that, putting all else aside, you make it each day your endeavour to become a better man. I do not merely exhort you to keep at it; I actually beg you to do so.

I warn you, however, not to act after the fashion of those who desire to be conspicuous rather than to improve, and to make your philosophy remarkable by what you wear or how you look.

Avoid rough clothing, long hair, a slovenly beard, open scorn of silver dishes, sleeping on the ground, and whatever else of this kind seeks praise through perversity. The very name 'philosophy' is disliked enough as it is, even when practised with modesty.

What would happen if we began to separate ourselves from the customs of our fellow-men? Inwardly, we ought to be different in all respects, but our exterior should conform to society.

Let our clothes not be gaudy, yet not dirty either. Let us avoid silver vessels with gold inlay, but let us not imagine that to do without gold and silver is proof of a simple life.

Let our aim be a life that is neither like theirs nor contrary to theirs. The goal of our ideal wise man is to be admired for his character rather than his clothes.

Let us try to maintain a higher standard of life than that of the multitude, but not a contrary standard; otherwise, we shall frighten away and repel the very persons whom we are trying to improve.

We also bring it about that they are unwilling to imitate us in anything, because they are afraid lest they might be compelled to imitate us in everything. Philosophy requires frugality, not punishment; and the frugal life need not be uncouth.

This is the mean of which I approve: our life should observe a happy medium between good morals and the morals of the world; all men should admire it, but they should also understand it.

Farewell.

I commend and rejoice with you, that you persist in your studies; and that, setting everything else aside, you make it your daily care to become a better man. I do not only exhort, but beg you to continue.

I advise you, however, not to act like those who desire rather to be talked of, than to improve; and to render your philosophy remarkable by the habit of your body, or any singularity in your way of living.

Avoid a rough dress, long hair, a neglected beard, a declared aversion to silver plate, a couch on the ground, and everything else that affects praise by a perverse way. The very name of philosophy, even when managed with modesty, is offensive enough.

What would become of us, if we should begin to separate ourselves from the custom of the public? Within, let us be quite different; but our outside should conform to the people.

Let not our garment be showy, nor sordid. Let us not have our plate of silver embossed with gold, but neither let us think that to be without gold and silver is any proof of frugality.

Let us endeavour to lead a life better than the common people, but not contrary to them. The end of our wise man is to be admired for his conduct, not for his dress.

Let us endeavour to maintain a more sublime way of life than the vulgar, but not a contrary one; lest we should repel and drive away those whom we would reform.

We shall also bring about that they will be unwilling to imitate us in anything, for fear they should be obliged to imitate us in all things. Philosophy requires frugality, not punishment; and frugality need not be nasty.

This is the mean I approve of: let our life be a mean between good manners, and those of the world; all men should admire our life, and yet know what to make of it.

Farewell.