The Death of Marcus Aurelius

The Death of Marcus Aurelius

Thursday, February 13, 2020

Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy 4.21

“To what good end do men their passions raise,
even to drag from fate their deaths by their own hands?
If you seek death, she is surely nigh of her own will;
And her winged horses she will not delay.
Serpents and lions, bears, tigers and boars,
All seek your lives with their fangs,
yet do you seek them with swords?
Is it because your manners are so wide in variance
that men raise up unjust battles and savage wars,
and seek to perish by each other's darts?
Such is no just reason for this cruelty.
Would you apportion merit to merit fitly?
Then love good men as is their due,
and for the evil show your pity.”

—from Book 4, Poem 4

It is so easy to act poorly, because it is so easy not to understand; it requires no effort.

It is so easy to condemn, because it so easy not to love; it requires no effort.

I recall an old episode of Gunsmoke, the sort of show that is not in fashion at the moment, called “The Deadly Innocent.” Festus has befriended an orphaned young man, Billy, who has lived his whole life out in an isolated valley.

The boy has no family, no home, no profession, and absolutely no awareness of how the “real world” is supposed to operate. He won’t take charity, but will gladly do odd jobs for food, and he finds his happiness in telling fantastical stories and riddles to anyone who will listen.

People are slowly leaving his valley, and so Billy decides he will come to Dodge City. Festus, who has always been a kind soul, takes the boy in, trying to give him work, and trying to help him adapt to a world that can often be harsh and unforgiving.

One day, when Billy sees a rough and drunken cowboy attempting to drown a helpless cat, he fights to save the cat. He almost kills the cowboy in his rage, and he now finds himself subject to the law. He has a strong body joined to the mind of a child. He does what he thinks is right, but he violates all the customs of what we might call civilization.

One day, when Billy sees Festus shoot a deer for dinner, Billy lashes out in violence once again. He cannot bear to see what he thinks of as brutality.

Clearly something must be done with this boy. He is dangerous, a threat to the town, and not at all the sort of person we can allow in the midst of decent folk. Perhaps we should lock him up, or hide him away, where he can no longer do any harm?

I will not spoil the rest of the episode, but I heartily recommend it to anyone who is interested in the struggle between morality and social conformity. I do believe it was one of the first Gunsmoke episodes I ever saw, even if it was from one of the later seasons. It has stuck with me through all the years. It has imprinted something on my soul.

Perhaps I have related to Billy more than I would like to admit. Unlike Billy, I have an education, but I am still not all that bright. Unlike, Billy, I don’t have the strength to beat the crap out of a drunken cowboy, as much as I would often like to. I’m not sure where that puts me in the order of things.

The assumption is that Billy is “retarded”, or “special”, or “challenged”, or whatever words we are now expected to use. Yet notice that Billy has no worries about being anyone at all but a person who loves, who shows compassion, who defends the weak against the strong. He may not always understand the circumstances, but he has a better heart that most anyone else around him.

Festus sees this in him, because Festus also has a better heart than most anyone else around him.

There is a difference between innocence and ignorance: an innocent man can’t possibly know any better, but an ignorant man certainly should know better.

Look at how we hate, look at how we fight, look at how we dwell upon all the things that make us different, only as an excuse to abuse, to take advantage of the enemy, to kill whatever we do not prefer. Is this civilization? Am I sure I need that?

Nature will give us death in any event; why do we speed our demise with this false righteousness?

If they called me a Billy, I’d gladly take the name. It isn’t an insult at all, but a compliment in the eyes of Nature: love those who love you, and love those who hate you just as much.

Written in 11/2015
 

No comments:

Post a Comment