Epicurus remarks that certain men have worked their way to the truth without anyone's assistance, carving out their own passage. And he gives special praise to these, for their impulse has come from within, and they have forged to the front by themselves.
Again, he says, there are others who need outside help, who will not proceed unless someone leads the way, but who will follow faithfully. Of these, he says, Metrodorus was one; this type of man is also excellent, but belongs to the second grade.
We ourselves are not of that first class, either; we shall be well treated if we are admitted into the second. Nor need you despise a man who can gain salvation only with the assistance of another; the will to be saved means a great deal, too.
You will find still another class of man—and a class not to be despised—who can be forced and driven into righteousness, who do not need a guide as much as they require someone to encourage and, as it were, to force them along. This is the third variety.
If you ask me for a man of this pattern also, Epicurus tells us that Hermarchus was such. And of the two last-named classes, he is more ready to congratulate the one, but he feels more respect for the other; for although both reached the same goal, it is a greater credit to have brought about the same result with the more difficult material upon which to work.
Again, he says, there are others who need outside help, who will not proceed unless someone leads the way, but who will follow faithfully. Of these, he says, Metrodorus was one; this type of man is also excellent, but belongs to the second grade.
We ourselves are not of that first class, either; we shall be well treated if we are admitted into the second. Nor need you despise a man who can gain salvation only with the assistance of another; the will to be saved means a great deal, too.
You will find still another class of man—and a class not to be despised—who can be forced and driven into righteousness, who do not need a guide as much as they require someone to encourage and, as it were, to force them along. This is the third variety.
If you ask me for a man of this pattern also, Epicurus tells us that Hermarchus was such. And of the two last-named classes, he is more ready to congratulate the one, but he feels more respect for the other; for although both reached the same goal, it is a greater credit to have brought about the same result with the more difficult material upon which to work.
—from Seneca, Moral Letters 52
Knowing full well that I, much like the stubborn donkey, must ultimately make my own move, there are still so many ways for others to give me a nudge in the right direction.
Furthermore, we all learn our own lessons with different degrees of assistance, so a helping hand need not be taken as an offense to my self-sufficiency. I may require more opportunities to become my own master, but at least I am making progress.
I wish, of course, that I could go it entirely on my own, and yet I suspect that is just a result of false pride. As rational animals, we are also social animals, and so we do our best work in cooperation with our fellows. A man does not exist in a vacuum, and every judgment or action must proceed from the context of what he has first been given.
Of the three types of learners discussed by Epicurus, I imagine the first to be incredibly rare, and therefore deserving of the greatest respect. Operating only from his innate capacities and the range of his own experience, he would seem closer to the divine than the human. I have yet to meet one, though I’m always keeping an eye out.
Might I claim a membership in the second group? It is true that I have needed many teachers to even make me presentable, and yet I’m not sure I have always participated willingly. My skeptical and obstinate streak means I have, more often than not, been dragged kicking and screaming into any awareness.
No, I’m afraid I am, at least for the moment, a member of the third class, a fellow who usually requires the motivation of a swift kick in the rear. While I eventually become grateful for the inspiration, I am not an obedient pupil, probably because I am frantically trying to think for myself before I have been properly trained in the art of thinking.
The Stoic, however, always finds the good in the bad, and so, together with Epicurus, he recognizes how there is a certain benefit to overcoming the hurdle of obstinacy. The heroic figure rises to lofty heights, and the devoted student does himself credit by his commitment, and yes, even the pigheaded iconoclast can show his worth by defeating his own worst enemy, by finally conquering himself.
Knowing full well that I, much like the stubborn donkey, must ultimately make my own move, there are still so many ways for others to give me a nudge in the right direction.
Furthermore, we all learn our own lessons with different degrees of assistance, so a helping hand need not be taken as an offense to my self-sufficiency. I may require more opportunities to become my own master, but at least I am making progress.
I wish, of course, that I could go it entirely on my own, and yet I suspect that is just a result of false pride. As rational animals, we are also social animals, and so we do our best work in cooperation with our fellows. A man does not exist in a vacuum, and every judgment or action must proceed from the context of what he has first been given.
Of the three types of learners discussed by Epicurus, I imagine the first to be incredibly rare, and therefore deserving of the greatest respect. Operating only from his innate capacities and the range of his own experience, he would seem closer to the divine than the human. I have yet to meet one, though I’m always keeping an eye out.
Might I claim a membership in the second group? It is true that I have needed many teachers to even make me presentable, and yet I’m not sure I have always participated willingly. My skeptical and obstinate streak means I have, more often than not, been dragged kicking and screaming into any awareness.
No, I’m afraid I am, at least for the moment, a member of the third class, a fellow who usually requires the motivation of a swift kick in the rear. While I eventually become grateful for the inspiration, I am not an obedient pupil, probably because I am frantically trying to think for myself before I have been properly trained in the art of thinking.
The Stoic, however, always finds the good in the bad, and so, together with Epicurus, he recognizes how there is a certain benefit to overcoming the hurdle of obstinacy. The heroic figure rises to lofty heights, and the devoted student does himself credit by his commitment, and yes, even the pigheaded iconoclast can show his worth by defeating his own worst enemy, by finally conquering himself.
If I possess a crippling flaw, it is also within my power to defeat this flaw, and to turn it into my greatest victory. Nature does nothing in vain.
—Reflection written in 4/2013
IMAGE: "Contrast a child that's good, with one / Who hates his book and school; / What picture does the blockhead give, / But that he is a fool?" (1828)
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