Cleanthes of Assos was the second head of the Stoic school in Athens, taking up the position following the death of the philosophy’s founder, Zeno, in 262 BC.
He was known to support his study of philosophy by working nights as a water carrier, a job he continued to do even after becoming the leader of the Stoic school.
Only fragments of Cleanthes’ work survive, but we have enough of a couple of his poems to be able to draw some Stoic lessons that we can take forward with us today.
The largest fragment we have is from his Hymn to Zeus, a few lines of which is quoted in Epictetus’s Enchiridion:
Lead me on, O Zeus, and thou Destiny,
To that goal long ago to me assigned.
I’ll follow readily but if my will prove weak;
Wretched as I am, I must follow still.
Fate guides the willing, but drags the unwilling.
In fuller reproductions of the poem we find the following:
But thou, O Zeus, giver of all, thou of the cloud,
guide of the thunder, deliver men from baleful ignorance!Scatter it, fathers, from our souls;
grant us to win that wisdom on which
thou thyself relying suitably guidest all;that thus being honored, we may return to thee our honor,
singing thy works unceasingly; because there is no higher office
for a man, nor a god — than ever rightly singing of universal law.
True to Stoic form, Cleanthes was very much aware of the workings of Fate. His Hymn to Zeus is essentially an exercise in mental preparation for what Fate may bring.
Having no control over Fate (or Zeus or Fortune or whatever we want to call it) ourselves, the Stoic guidance is to first accept the events that befall us before deciding how best to respond to them.
The events will happen either way, after all, so, as Cleanthes put it, it’s up to us to be either guided or dragged by them.
So today it might help to give a little nod to Zeus as a means of mentally preparing for the unexpected events of the day ahead. You can then resolve to meet them with acceptance rather than struggling against them and creating difficulty for yourself.
From this grounding, we can continue to strive toward the good that Cleanthes talked about in another of his poems:
If you ask what is the nature of the good, listen—
Clement of Alexandria (quoting Cleanthes), The Stromata 5.14
That which is regular, just, holy, pious,
Self-governing, useful, fair, fitting,
Grave, independent, always beneficial,
That feels no fear or grief, profitable, painless,
Helpful, pleasant, safe, friendly,
Held in esteem, agreeing with itself: honourable,
Humble, careful, meek, zealous,
Perennial, blameless, ever-during.
At the beginning of his Discourses, Epictetus shares two vivid examples that also help to show how one might focus on what is within their control when circumstances outside their control are forced upon them.
The first example presents that common outside-our-control occurrence when unwelcome weather disrupts our plans:
If the weather stops us from setting sail, we sit and fume, constantly peering outside: ‘Which direction is the wind from?’
‘The north.’
‘Damn! When is it going to blow from the west?’
In its own good time, my friend, or when Aeolus decides. After all, it was Aeolus, not you, whom God made the steward of the winds.
So what must we do? Make the best of what’s up to us and take everything else as it comes. And how does it come? As God wishes.
The second example is a bit more jarring than the first as it references Plautus Lateranus, who was executed in 65 CE as an accomplice of Gaius Calpernius Piso in his conspiracy against the emperor Nero.
‘So am I the only one who’s going to be decapitated today?’
What are you saying? Would you want everyone to have their heads cut off? Would that make you feel better? Shouldn’t you stretch out your neck as Lateranus did when Nero ordered his head removed?
He stretched out his neck and was struck, but the blow was feeble and he reacted to it by shrinking back a little—but then he stretched it out again. And before that, when Epaphroditus went up to him and asked him about his conflict with Nero, he said, ‘If I have anything to say, I’ll speak to your master.’
Epictetus’s two examples are miles apart in terms of severity but the underlying lesson of both is the same: even if it’s only our chosen attitude to a situation, there is always something about our response that depends on us.
In the weather example, the traveler has a choice over whether they curse the uncontrollable conditions and get frustrated, or make the best of the present time and accept that the wind will be in their favor in due course.
In the example of Lateranus, he has no choice over whether he is punished, but he is still able to choose to accept his punishment with dignity and with his will intact.
So today, when it’s tempting to get frustrated about which way the wind is blowing or when we feel angry that we’re the only one facing a difficult assignment, it may help to stop, reset, and remind ourselves to make the best of what’s up to us and take everything else as it comes.
Fate guides the willing, but drags the unwilling.
