M. For this reason Carneades, as I see our friend Antiochus writes, used to blame Chrysippus for commending these verses of Euripides:
“Man, doom’d to care, to pain, disease, and strife,
Walks his short journey thro’ the vale of life:
Watchful attends the cradle and the grave,
And passing generations longs to save:
Last, dies himself: yet wherefore should we mourn?
For man must to his kindred dust return;
Submit to the destroying hand of fate,
As ripen’d ears the harvest-sickle wait.”
He would not allow a speech of this kind to avail at all to the cure of our grief, for he said it was a lamentable case itself that we were fallen into the hands of such a cruel fate; and that a speech like that, preaching up comfort from the misfortunes of another, was a comfort adapted only to those of a malevolent disposition.
But to me it appears far otherwise; for the necessity of bearing what is the common condition of humanity forbids your resisting the will of the Gods, and reminds you that you are a man, which reflection greatly alleviates grief; and the enumeration of these examples is not produced with a view to please those of a malevolent disposition, but in order that any one in affliction may be induced to bear what he observes many others have previously borne with tranquility and moderation.
For they who are falling to pieces, and cannot hold together through the greatness of their grief, should be supported by all kinds of assistance.
From whence Chrysippus thinks that grief is called λύπη, as it were λύσις, that is to say, a dissolution of the whole man—the whole of which I think may be pulled up by the roots by explaining, as I said at the beginning, the cause of grief; for it is nothing else but an opinion and judgment formed of a present acute evil.
And thus any bodily pain, let it be ever so grievous, may be endurable where any hopes are proposed of some considerable good; and we receive such consolation from a virtuous and illustrious life that they who lead such lives are seldom attacked by grief, or but slightly affected by it.
“Man, doom’d to care, to pain, disease, and strife,
Walks his short journey thro’ the vale of life:
Watchful attends the cradle and the grave,
And passing generations longs to save:
Last, dies himself: yet wherefore should we mourn?
For man must to his kindred dust return;
Submit to the destroying hand of fate,
As ripen’d ears the harvest-sickle wait.”
He would not allow a speech of this kind to avail at all to the cure of our grief, for he said it was a lamentable case itself that we were fallen into the hands of such a cruel fate; and that a speech like that, preaching up comfort from the misfortunes of another, was a comfort adapted only to those of a malevolent disposition.
But to me it appears far otherwise; for the necessity of bearing what is the common condition of humanity forbids your resisting the will of the Gods, and reminds you that you are a man, which reflection greatly alleviates grief; and the enumeration of these examples is not produced with a view to please those of a malevolent disposition, but in order that any one in affliction may be induced to bear what he observes many others have previously borne with tranquility and moderation.
For they who are falling to pieces, and cannot hold together through the greatness of their grief, should be supported by all kinds of assistance.
From whence Chrysippus thinks that grief is called λύπη, as it were λύσις, that is to say, a dissolution of the whole man—the whole of which I think may be pulled up by the roots by explaining, as I said at the beginning, the cause of grief; for it is nothing else but an opinion and judgment formed of a present acute evil.
And thus any bodily pain, let it be ever so grievous, may be endurable where any hopes are proposed of some considerable good; and we receive such consolation from a virtuous and illustrious life that they who lead such lives are seldom attacked by grief, or but slightly affected by it.
—from Cicero, Tusculan Disputations 3.25
In our time when hypersensitivity is at the height of fashion, I have a long list of topics where I know to tread lightly. Most of these are matters of political grandstanding, yet behind many of them lie a number of philosophical assumptions, and one of them is an insistence on always casting blame for evil.
Not only must another be at fault, but the rage must be seething and incessant. In a manner oddly reminiscent of the religious zealot, the entire world appears to be infected with the sins of the infidels, and our bitter hatred for their offenses can give us a twisted sense of identity. It is almost as if we crave something to protest against in order to make our lives worth living.
The attitude of a Chrysippus, or of anyone who looks to wisdom over histrionics, stands in such a sharp contrast. Instead of wishing to find fault on the outside, I could work to find a remedy from the inside, or as Chesterton would put it, there is no point to condemning what is wrong before I understand what is right. Now there is no doubt that the world will bring pain, though I should not overlook the tools of my own nature, ready at hand to provide a solution.
When a philosopher says that life is nasty, brutish, and short, this need not be a taken as a grievance, for it can just as easily be a reminder of how we all share in this same human condition, and we don’t need to go it alone. Others have also overcome the same obstacles, and they have done so by tapping into the power of their virtues.
Why compound the conflict, when it is possible to transcend it? If life presents ignorance, we have an anchor in prudence. If life breeds fear, we are equipped with fortitude. If life is riddled with longing, we can draw upon temperance. If life seems to treat us unfairly, we have the option of responding with justice.
Why hack away at the grief, when it can be pulled out by the roots? The despair is in the thinking about the circumstances, and not in the circumstances themselves, so whatever pain may come is not only bearable, but can also be employed as a means to discovering a deeper meaning and purpose. Yes, the burden becomes an opportunity to judge, speak, and act with increased integrity.
If I still scoff at such a claim, it’s then about my own pessimism, and not about the wicked state of the world. I am mistaking the accidents of my condition for the substance of my character; the error is in a confusion about the true source of the human good.
Any man will gladly suffer a lesser evil for the sake of achieving what he knows to be a greater good, which means the trick is in understanding how the excellence of the soul is far more important than the conveniences of the body. Let me be inspired to do better, rather than wallowing in resentment.
In our time when hypersensitivity is at the height of fashion, I have a long list of topics where I know to tread lightly. Most of these are matters of political grandstanding, yet behind many of them lie a number of philosophical assumptions, and one of them is an insistence on always casting blame for evil.
Not only must another be at fault, but the rage must be seething and incessant. In a manner oddly reminiscent of the religious zealot, the entire world appears to be infected with the sins of the infidels, and our bitter hatred for their offenses can give us a twisted sense of identity. It is almost as if we crave something to protest against in order to make our lives worth living.
The attitude of a Chrysippus, or of anyone who looks to wisdom over histrionics, stands in such a sharp contrast. Instead of wishing to find fault on the outside, I could work to find a remedy from the inside, or as Chesterton would put it, there is no point to condemning what is wrong before I understand what is right. Now there is no doubt that the world will bring pain, though I should not overlook the tools of my own nature, ready at hand to provide a solution.
When a philosopher says that life is nasty, brutish, and short, this need not be a taken as a grievance, for it can just as easily be a reminder of how we all share in this same human condition, and we don’t need to go it alone. Others have also overcome the same obstacles, and they have done so by tapping into the power of their virtues.
Why compound the conflict, when it is possible to transcend it? If life presents ignorance, we have an anchor in prudence. If life breeds fear, we are equipped with fortitude. If life is riddled with longing, we can draw upon temperance. If life seems to treat us unfairly, we have the option of responding with justice.
Why hack away at the grief, when it can be pulled out by the roots? The despair is in the thinking about the circumstances, and not in the circumstances themselves, so whatever pain may come is not only bearable, but can also be employed as a means to discovering a deeper meaning and purpose. Yes, the burden becomes an opportunity to judge, speak, and act with increased integrity.
If I still scoff at such a claim, it’s then about my own pessimism, and not about the wicked state of the world. I am mistaking the accidents of my condition for the substance of my character; the error is in a confusion about the true source of the human good.
Any man will gladly suffer a lesser evil for the sake of achieving what he knows to be a greater good, which means the trick is in understanding how the excellence of the soul is far more important than the conveniences of the body. Let me be inspired to do better, rather than wallowing in resentment.
—Reflection written in 12/1998
IMAGE: Charles Cottet, Grief, A Victim of the Sea (1909)
No comments:
Post a Comment