Employ your time in improving yourself by other men's writings

Hear, O children of wisdom, the voice of Socrates, who though he wrote no book, left us treasures through the memories of others: “Employ your time in improving yourself by other men’s writings, so that you shall gain easily what others have labored hard for.” In this saying, the philosopher reveals the sacred art of learning—the art of standing upon the shoulders of giants, of inheriting not only their triumphs but their struggles, so that we may climb further than they did without retracing every painful step.

To employ your time wisely is the first command of this teaching. For time is the one wealth that once spent cannot be regained. Many squander it in idle chatter, in vain pursuits, in pleasures that leave the soul empty. But Socrates calls us to invest our fleeting hours in the pursuit of self-improvement, to make of every day a stone laid in the edifice of wisdom. To waste time is to diminish the soul; to use it well is to ascend toward truth.

The key he offers is the study of writings—the preserved labors of those who came before us. Each book, each scroll, each word set down in ink is the crystallized experience of another soul’s journey. Why should we stumble blindly in ignorance when we may be guided by those who endured hardship to discover knowledge? By reading, we harvest in a single season what others sowed across lifetimes. Their pain becomes our ease; their struggle becomes our strength.

Consider the great library of Alexandria, where once scholars gathered to preserve the wisdom of all nations. Within those walls, a man could learn the mathematics of Egypt, the astronomy of Babylon, the philosophy of Greece. To enter such a place was to enter into communion with countless lives, to receive the distilled labor of generations. Though the library was lost to flames, its spirit survives in every written page that endures. To read is to enter into that eternal conversation, to claim an inheritance greater than gold.

History shows us, too, the power of such inheritance. Marcus Aurelius, emperor of Rome, ruled with the burdens of empire heavy upon him. Yet in the stillness of night, he turned to the writings of Epictetus and other Stoics, finding in their words the strength to govern with patience and justice. He did not need to rediscover the path of virtue; it was handed to him by those who had walked it before. By employing his time thus, he gained easily what others had labored hard for, and in turn, he passed that wisdom to us.

The lesson is clear: do not neglect the gifts of the past. Do not imagine that greatness requires you to invent every truth anew. Rather, drink deeply from the well of writings, and let the voices of ages guide your journey. But do not stop at mere reading—apply what you learn. For knowledge unpracticed is like a weapon left sheathed, or a seed never planted.

Therefore, O listener, make this your practice: each day, give a portion of your time to the improvement of your soul through study. Read not only for amusement, but for growth. Seek out the writings that challenge you, that refine your mind, that speak to the depths of the human condition. Carry them into your actions, into your speech, into your very way of living. In this way, you will honor the labors of the past, and you will forge yourself into a vessel of wisdom for the generations to come.