No, say not so, but rather, “Should I not destroy this man who is in error and delusion about the greatest matters, and is blinded not merely in the vision which distinguishes white and black, but in the judgement which distinguishes good and evil?”
If you put it this way, you will recognize how inhuman your words are; that it is like saying, “Should I not kill this blind man, or this deaf one?”
For if the greatest harm that can befall one is the loss of what is greatest, and a right will is the greatest thing in everyone, is it not enough for him to lose this, without incurring your anger besides?
I have shared this story, which I first came across in the fragments of Musonius Rufus, many times, and I believe it deserves to be repeated here once again:
Who of us does not marvel at the action of Lycurgus the Lacedaemonian? For when he had been blinded in one eye by one of his fellow citizens, and had received the young man at the hands of the people to punish as he saw fit, he did not choose to do this, but trained him instead and made a good man of him, and afterward escorted him to the public theater.
And when the Lacedaemonians regarded him with amazement, he said: "This man I received from you an insolent and violent creature; I return him to you a reasonable man and a good citizen."
If a crime so offends me that I would go to the ends of the earth seeking retribution, do I not also have the option of going to the ends of the earth seeking rehabilitation? The effort involved might be the same, though the motive would be radically different. It is one thing to revere the dictates of the law, and another to remember the beneficent ends the law is intended to serve.
Everything centers on the attitude, and my willingness to focus on the welfare of each and every individual who crosses my path, however he might choose to treat me. Sweeping generalities are cheap, while personal commitments are priceless.
Lycurgus could, after all, have had the man killed, but instead decided to educate him. I am deeply moved by the example of someone who makes it his own responsibility to help a lost soul acquire responsibility.
When I begin by insulting a man, that says far more about my shortcomings than it does about his. When I continue by wishing to see him suffer, whether through shame, deprivation, torture, or death, I have revealed the weakness of my principles. When I finally glorify in his demise, I have only condemned myself.
The poor fellow has already suffered the worst possible fate by being ensnared in the wickedness of ignorance. Will I now do the same to myself? Indeed, if I must be consumed by passion, pity is here more fitting than anger. Even if the disability followed from a voluntary choice, it still calls for healing.
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