Xenophon, Memorabilia of Socrates 25

Socrates: ". . . So Hesiod somewhere says:

Wickedness may a man take wholesale with ease, smooth is the way and her dwelling-place is very nigh; but in front of virtue the immortal gods have placed toil and sweat, long is the path and steep that leads to her, and rugged at the first, but when the summit of the pass is reached, then for all its roughness the path grows easy.

"And Ephicharmus bears his testimony when he says:

The gods sell us all good things in return for our labors.

"And again in another passage he exclaims: 

Set not thine heart on soft things, thou knave, lest thou light upon the hard. 

"And that wise man Prodicus delivers himself in a like strain concerning virtue in that composition of his about Heracles, which crowds have listened to. This, as far as I can recollect it, is the substance at least of what he says:

When Heracles was emerging from boyhood into the bloom of youth, having reached that season in which the young man, now standing upon the verge of independence, shows plainly whether he will enter upon the path of virtue or of vice, he went forth into a quiet place, and sat debating with himself which of those two paths he should pursue; and as he there sat musing, there appeared to him two women of great stature which drew nigh to him. 

The one was fair to look upon, frank and free by gift of nature, her limbs adorned with purity and her eyes with bashfulness; sobriety set the rhythm of her gait, and she was clad in white apparel. 

The other was of a different type; the fleshy softness of her limbs betrayed her nurture, while the complexion of her skin was embellished that she might appear whiter and rosier than she really was, and her figure that she might seem taller than nature made her; she stared with wide-open eyes, and the raiment wherewith she was clad served but to reveal the ripeness of her bloom. With frequent glances she surveyed her person, or looked to see if others noticed her; while ever and anon she fixed her gaze upon the shadow of herself intently. 

Now when these two had drawn near to Heracles, she who was first named advanced at an even pace towards him, but the other, in her eagerness to outstrip her, ran forward to the youth, exclaiming:

"I see you, Heracles, in doubt and difficulty what path of life to choose; make me your friend, and I will lead you to the pleasantest road and easiest. This I promise you: you shall taste all of life's sweets and escape all bitters. 

"In the first place, you shall not trouble your brain with war or business; other topics shall engage your mind; your only speculation, what meat or drink you shall find agreeable to your palate; what delight of ear or eye; what pleasure of smell or touch; what darling lover's intercourse shall most enrapture you; how you shall pillow your limbs in softest slumber; how cull each individual pleasure without alloy of pain; and if ever the suspicion steal upon you that the stream of joys will one day dwindle, trust me I will not lead you where you shall replenish the store by toil of body and trouble of soul. 

"No! Others shall labor, but you shall reap the fruit of their labors; you shall withhold your hand from nought which shall bring you gain. For to all my followers I give authority and power to help themselves freely from every side." 

Heracles hearing these words made answer: 

"What, O lady, is the name you bear?"

 To which she: 

"Know that my friends call be Happiness, but they that hate me have their own nicknames for me, Vice and Naughtiness." 

But just then the other of those fair women approached and spoke: 

"Heracles, I too am come to you, seeing that your parents are well known to me, and in your nurture I have gauged your nature; wherefore I entertain good hope that if you choose the path which leads to me, you shall greatly bestir yourself to be the doer of many a doughty deed of noble emprise; and that I too shall be held in even higher honor for your sake, lit with the luster shed by valorous deeds. 

"I will not cheat you with preludings of pleasure, but I will relate to you the things that are according to the ordinances of God in very truth. Know then that among things that are lovely and of good report, not one have the gods bestowed upon mortal men apart from toil and pains. 

"Would you obtain the favor of the gods, then must you pay these same gods service; would you be loved by your friends, you must benefit these friends; do you desire to be honored by the state, you must give the state your aid; do you claim admiration for your virtue from all Hellas, you must strive to do some good to Hellas; do you wish earth to yield her fruits to you abundantly, to earth must you pay your court; do you seek to amass riches from your flocks and herds, on them must you bestow your labor; or is it your ambition to be potent as a warrior, able to save your friends and to subdue your foes, then must you learn the arts of war from those who have the knowledge, and practise their application in the field when learned; or would you e'en be powerful of limb and body, then must you habituate limbs and body to obey the mind, and exercise yourself with toil and sweat." 

At this point, as Prodicus relates, Vice broke in exclaiming: 

"See you, Heracles, how hard and long the road is by which yonder woman would escort you to her festal joys. But I will guide you by a short and easy road to happiness." 

Then spoke Virtue: 

"Nay, wretched one, what good thing hast thou? or what sweet thing art thou acquainted with—that wilt stir neither hand nor foot to gain it? Thou, that mayest not even await the desire of pleasure, but, or ever that desire springs up, art already satiated; eating before thou hungerest, and drinking before thou thirsteth; who to eke out an appetite must invent an army of cooks and confectioners; and to whet thy thirst must lay down costliest wines, and run up and down in search of ice in summer-time; to help thy slumbers soft coverlets suffice not, but couches and feather-beds must be prepared thee and rockers to rock thee to rest; since desire for sleep in thy case springs not from toil but from vacuity and nothing in the world to do. Even the natural appetite of love thou forcest prematurely by every means thou mayest devise, confounding the sexes in thy service. Thus thou educatest thy friends: with insult in the night season and drowse of slumber during the precious hours of the day. 

"Immortal, thou art cast forth from the company of gods, and by good men art dishonored: that sweetest sound of all, the voice of praise, has never thrilled thine ears; and the fairest of all fair visions is hidden from thine eyes that have never beheld one bounteous deed wrought by thine own hand. If thou openest thy lips in speech, who will believe thy word? If thou hast need of aught, none shall satisfy thee. What sane man will venture to join thy rablle rout? Ill indeed are thy revellers to look upon, young men impotent of body, and old men witless in mind: in the heyday of life they batten in sleek idleness, and wearily do they drag through an age of wrinkled wretchedness: and why? They blush with shame at the thought of deeds done in the past, and groan for weariness at what is left to do. During their youth they ran riot through their sweet things, and laid up for themselves large store of bitterness against the time of eld. 

"But my companionship is with the gods; and with the good among men my conversation; no bounteous deed, divine or human, is wrought without my aid. Therefore am I honored in Heaven pre-eminently, and upon earth among men whose right it is to honor me; as a beloved fellow-worker of all craftsmen; a faithful guardian of house and lands, whom the owners bless; a kindly helpmeet of servants; a brave assistant in the labors of peace; an unflinching ally in the deeds of war; a sharer in all friendships indispensable. 

"To my friends is given an enjoyment of meats and drinks, which is sweet in itself and devoid of trouble, in that they can endure until desire ripens, and sleep more delicious visits them than those who toil not. Yet they are not pained to part with it; nor for the sake of slumber do they let slip the performance of their duties. Among my followers the youth delights in the praises of his elders, and the old man glories in the honor of the young; with joy they call to memory their deeds of old, and in today's well-doing are well pleased. For my sake they are dear in the sight of God, beloved of their friends and honored by the country of their birth. When the appointed goal is reached they lie not down in oblivion with dishonor, but bloom afresh—their praise resounded on the lips of men for ever. 

"Toils like these, O son of noble parents, Heracles, it is yours to meet with, and having endured, to enter into the heritage assured you of transcendent happiness."

"This, Aristippus, in rough sketch is the theme which Prodicus pursues in his Education of Heracles by Virtue, only he decked out his sentiments, I admit, in far more magnificent phrases than I have ventured on. 

"Were it not well, Aristippus, to lay to heart these sayings, and to strive to bethink you somewhat of that which touches the future of our life?" 

—from Xenophon, Memorabilia 2.1 

IMAGE: Albrecht Dürer, Hercules at the Crossroads (1498) 

Seneca, Moral Letters 54.3

I have never ceased to encourage myself with cheering counsels of this kind, silently, of course, since I had not the power to speak; then little by little this shortness of breath, already reduced to a sort of panting, came on at greater intervals, and then slowed down and finally stopped. 
 
Even by this time, although the gasping has ceased, the breath does not come and go normally; I still feel a sort of hesitation and delay in breathing. Let it be as it pleases, provided there be no sigh from the soul. 
 
Accept this assurance from me: I shall never be frightened when the last hour comes; I am already prepared and do not plan a whole day ahead. 
 
But do you praise and imitate the man whom it does not irk to die, though he takes pleasure in living? For what virtue is there in going away when you are thrust out? 
 
And yet there is virtue even in this: I am indeed thrust out, but it is as if I were going away willingly. For that reason, the wise man can never be thrust out, because that would mean removal from a place which he was unwilling to leave; and the wise man does nothing unwillingly. 
 
He escapes necessity, because he wills to do what necessity is about to force upon him. Farewell. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 54 
 
I could take the many reminders of my vulnerability, and ultimately of my mortality, as threats to my happiness, or I could instead employ them as opportunities to focus on what is authentic and essential. 
 
Am I weak in body? Is fortune giving me more pain than she does pleasure? I may, therefore, find comfort in what is truly mine, the exercise of my character, with no distress over the state of my circumstances or the limitations to my time. 
 
I often come back to Seneca’s advice about sighing. My body will protest ever so strongly, and I must rest assured that it is doing its job, but my soul has no need to complain, because I can understand quite clearly where my fulfillment lies. The only hindrance is in my hesitation to take control over my passions, to take responsibility for my very humanity. 
 
I would like to think that the griping will release some pressure, though the struggling merely ends up tightening my bonds. The bellyaching, which is little more than an aggressive form of casting blame, brings me no liberation whatsoever. 
 
It may seem silly to praise an acceptance of what is inevitable, yet the merit lies in freely embracing Nature, and thereby what at first felt like a coercion is rebuilt as a cooperation. Once I recognize how there is no evil inherent in bearing pain or facing death, I am no longer enslaved by chasing pleasure or clinging to life. You cannot deny me something I no longer have any compulsion to possess. 
 
After so many “last gasps” from his asthma, Seneca eventually died on his own terms, willing to surrender his flesh before he surrendered his principles. Only a grasping man would believe this to be either foolish or even impossible. 

—Reflection written in 4/2013 

IMAGE: Noël Hallé, The Death of Seneca (1750) 

Xenophon, Memorabilia of Socrates 24

Now, if the effect of such discourses was, as I imagine, to deter his hearers from the paths of quackery and false-seeming, so I am sure that language like the following was calculated to stimulate his followers to practice self-control and endurance: self-control in the matters of eating, drinking, sleeping, and the cravings of lust; endurance of cold and heat and toil and pain. He had noticed the undue license which one of his acquaintances allowed himself in all such matters. Accordingly he thus addressed him: 

"Tell me, Aristippus," Socrates said, "supposing you had two children entrusted to you to educate, one of them must be brought up with an aptitude for government, and the other without the faintest propensity to rule—how would you educate them? What do you say? Shall we begin our inquiry from the beginning, as it were, with the bare elements of food and nutriment?" 

Aristippus: "Yes, food to begin with, by all means, being a first principle, without which there is no man living but would perish."

Socrates: "Well, then, we may expect, may we not, that a desire to grasp food at certain seasons will exhibit itself in both the children?" 

Aristippus: "It is to be expected." 

Socrates: "Which, then, of the two must be trained, of his own free will, to prosecute a pressing business rather than gratify the belly?" 

Aristippus: "No doubt the one who is being trained to govern, if we would not have affairs of state neglected during his government." 

Socrates: "And the same pupil must be furnished with a power of holding out against thirst also when the craving to quench it comes upon him?" 

Aristippus: "Certainly he must." 

Socrates: "And on which of the two shall we confer such self-control in regard to sleep as shall enable him to rest late and rise early, or keep vigil, if the need arise?" 

Aristippus: "To the same one of the two must be given that endurance also." 

Socrates: "Well, and a continence in regard to matters sexual so great that nothing of the sort shall prevent him from doing his duty? Which of them claims that?" 

Aristippus: "The same one of the pair again." 

Socrates: "Well, and on which of the two shall be bestowed, as a further gift, the voluntary resolution to face toils rather than turn and flee from them?" 

Aristippus: "This, too, belongs of right to him who is being trained for government." 

Socrates: "Well, and to which of them will it better accord to be taught all knowledge necessary towards the mastery of antagonists?" 

Aristippus: "To our future ruler certainly, for without these parts of learning all his other capacities will be merely waste." 

Socrates: "Will not a man so educated be less liable to be entrapped by rival powers, and so escape a common fate of living creatures, some of which, as we all know, are hooked through their own greediness, and often even in spite of a native shyness; but through appetite for food they are drawn towards the bait, and are caught; while others are similarly ensnared by drink?" 

Aristippus: "Undoubtedly." 

Socrates: "And others again are victims of amorous heat, as quails, for instance, or partridges, which, at the cry of the hen-bird, with lust and expectation of such joys grow wild, and lose their power of computing dangers: on they rush, and fall into the snare of the hunter?" 

Aristippus assented. 

Socrates: "And would it not seem to be a base thing for a man to be affected like the silliest bird or beast? As when the adulterer invades the innermost sanctum of the house, though he is well aware of the risks which his crime involves, the formidable penalties of the law, the danger of being caught in the toils, and then suffering the direst contumely. Considering all the hideous penalties which hang over the adulterer's head, considering also the many means at hand to release him from the thraldom of his passion, that a man should so drive headlong on to the quicksands of perdition —what are we to say of such frenzy? The wretch who can so behave must surely be tormented by an evil spirit?" 

Aristippus: "So it strikes me." 

Socrates: "And does it not strike you as a sign of strange indifference that, whereas the greater number of the indispensable affairs of men, as for instance, those of war and agriculture, and more than half the rest, need to be conducted under the broad canopy of heaven, yet the majority of men are quite untrained to wrestle with cold and heat?" 

Aristippus again assented. 

Socrates: "And do you not agree that he who is destined to rule must train himself to bear these things lightly?" 

Aristippus: "Most certainly." 

Socrates: "And while we rank those who are self-disciplined in all these matters among persons fit to rule, we are bound to place those incapable of such conduct in the category of persons without any pretension whatsoever to be rulers?" 

Aristippus: "I assent." 

Socrates: "Well, then, since you know the rank peculiar to either section of mankind, did it ever strike you to consider to which of the two you are best entitled to belong?" 

"Yes I have," replied Aristippus. "I do not dream for a moment of ranking myself in the class of those who wish to rule. In fact, considering how serious a business it is to cater for one's own private needs, I look upon it as the mark of a fool not to be content with that, but to further saddle oneself with the duty of providing the rest of the community with whatever they may be pleased to want. That, at the cost of much personal enjoyment, a man should put himself at the head of a state, and then, if he fail to carry through every jot and tittle of that state's desire, be held to criminal account, does seem to me the very extravagance of folly. 

"Why, bless me! States claim to treat their rulers precisely as I treat my domestic slaves. I expect my attendants to furnish me with an abundance of necessaries, but not to lay a finger on one of them themselves. So these states regard it as the duty of a ruler to provide them with all the good things imaginable, but to keep his own hands off them all the while. So then, for my part, if anybody desires to have a heap of pother himself, and be a nuisance to the rest of the world, I will educate him in the manner suggested, and he shall take his place among those who are fit to rule; but for myself, I beg to be enrolled amongst those who wish to spend their days as easily and pleasantly as possible." 

Socrates: "Shall we then at this point turn and inquire which of the two are likely to lead the pleasanter life, the rulers or the ruled?" 

Aristippus: "By all means let us do so." 

Socrates: "To begin then with the nations and races known to ourselves. In Asia the Persians are the rulers, while the Syrians, Phrygians, Lydians are ruled; and in Europe we find the Scythians ruling, and the Maeotians being ruled. In Africa the Carthaginians are rulers, the Libyans ruled. Which of these two sets respectively leads the happier life, in your opinion? Or, to come nearer home—you are yourself a Hellene—which among Hellenes enjoy the happier existence, think you, the dominant or the subject states?" 

"No, I would have you to understand," exclaimed Aristippus, "that I am just as far from placing myself in the ranks of slavery; there is, I take it, a middle path between the two which it is my ambition to tread, avoiding rule and slavery alike; it lies through freedom—the high road which leads to happiness." 

Socrates: "True, if only your path could avoid human beings, as it avoids rule and slavery, there would be something in what you say. But being placed as you are amidst human beings, if you purpose neither to rule nor to be ruled, and do not mean to dance attendance, if you can help it, on those who rule, you must surely see that the stronger have an art to seat the weaker on the stool of repentance both in public and in private, and to treat them as slaves. 

"I daresay you have not failed to note this common case: a set of people has sown and planted, whereupon in comes another set and cuts their corn and fells their fruit-trees, and in every way lays siege to them because, though weaker, they refuse to pay them proper court, until at length they are persuaded to accept slavery rather than war against their betters. And in private life also, you will bear me out, the brave and powerful are known to reduce the helpless and cowardly to bondage, and to make no small profit out of their victims." 

Aristippus: "Yes, but I must tell you I have a simple remedy against all such misadventures. I do not confine myself to any single civil community. I roam the wide world a foreigner." 

Socrates: "Well, now, that is a masterly stroke, upon my word! Of course, ever since the decease of Sinis, and Sciron, and Procrustes, foreign travelers have had an easy time of it. But still, if I bethink me, even in these modern days the members of free communities do pass laws in their respective countries for self-protection against wrong-doing. Over and above their personal connections, they provide themselves with a host of friends; they gird their cities about with walls and battlements; they collect armaments to ward off evil-doers; and to make security doubly sure, they furnish themselves with allies from foreign states. In spite of all which defensive machinery these same free citizens do occasionally fall victims to injustice. 

"But you, who are without any of these aids; you, who pass half your days on the high roads where iniquity is rife; you, who, into whatever city you enter, are less than the least of its free members, and moreover are just the sort of person whom any one bent on mischief would single out for attack—yet you, with your foreigner's passport, are to be exempt from injury?  

"So you flatter yourself. And why? Will the state authorities cause proclamation to be made on your behalf: 'The person of this man Aristippus is secure; let his going out and his coming in be free from danger'? Is that the ground of your confidence? Or do you rather rest secure in the consciousness that you would prove such a slave as no master would care to keep? For who would care to have in his house a fellow with so slight a disposition to work and so strong a propensity to extravagance? 

"Suppose we stop and consider that very point: how do masters deal with that sort of domestic? If I am not mistaken, they chastise his wantonness by starvation; they balk his thieving tendencies by bars and bolts where there is anything to steal; they hinder him from running away by bonds and imprisonment; they drive the sluggishness out of him with the lash. Is it not so? Or how do you proceed when you discover the like tendency in one of your domestics?" 

Aristippus: "I correct them with all the plagues, until I force them to serve me properly. But, Socrates, to return to your pupil educated in the royal art, which, if I mistake not, you hold to be happiness: how, may I ask, will he be better off than others who lie in evil case, in spite of themselves, simply because they suffer perforce, but in his case the hunger and the thirst, the cold shivers and the lying awake at nights, with all the changes he will ring on pain, are of his own choosing? 

"For my part I cannot see what difference it makes, provided it is one and the same bare back which receives the stripes, whether the whipping be self-appointed or unasked for; nor indeed does it concern my body in general, provided it be my body, whether I am beleaguered by a whole armament of such evils of my own will or against my will—except only for the folly which attaches to self-appointed suffering." 

Socrates: "What, Aristippus, does it not seem to you that, as regards such matters, there is all the difference between voluntary and involuntary suffering, in that he who starves of his own accord can eat when he chooses, and he who thirsts of his own free will can drink, and so for the rest; but he who suffers in these ways perforce cannot desist from the suffering when the humor takes him? 

"Again, he who suffers hardship voluntarily, gaily confronts his troubles, being buoyed on hope—just as a hunter in pursuit of wild beasts, through hope of capturing his quarry, finds toil a pleasure—and these are but prizes of little worth in return for their labors; but what shall we say of their reward who toil to obtain to themselves good friends, or to subdue their enemies, or that through strength of body and soul they may administer their households well, befriend their friends, and benefit the land which gave them birth? Must we not suppose that these too will take their sorrows lightly, looking to these high ends? Must we not suppose that they too will gaily confront existence, who have to support them not only their conscious virtue, but the praise and admiration of the world? 

And once more, habits of indolence, along with the fleeting pleasures of the moment, are incapable, as gymnastic trainers say, of setting up a good habit of body, or of implanting in the soul any knowledge worthy of account; whereas by painstaking endeavor in the pursuit of high and noble deeds, as good men tell us, through endurance we shall in the end attain the goal. . . . "

—from Xenophon, Memorabilia 2.1 

 

Maxims of Goethe 18

The significance of the most harmless words and actions grows with the years, and if I see anyone about me for any length of time, I always try to show him the difference there is between sincerity, confidence, and indiscretion; nay, that in truth there is no difference at all, but a gentle transition from what is most innocent to what is most hurtful; a transition which must be perceived or rather felt. . . . 

Herein we must exercise our tact; otherwise in the very way in which we have won the favor of mankind, we run the risk of trifling it away again unawares. 

This is a lesson which a man learns quite well for himself in the course of life, but only after having paid a dear price for it; nor can he, unhappily, spare his posterity a like expenditure. 

Seneca, Moral Letters 54.2

"What?" I say to myself; "does death so often test me? Let it do so; I myself have for a long time tested death." 
 
"When?" you ask. 
 
Before I was born. Death is non-existence, and I know already what that means. What was before me will happen again after me. If there is any suffering in this state, there must have been such suffering also in the past, before we entered the light of day. As a matter of fact, however, we felt no discomfort then.
 
And I ask you, would you not say that one was the greatest of fools who believed that a lamp was worse off when it was extinguished than before it was lighted? We mortals also are lighted and extinguished; the period of suffering comes in between, but on either side there is a deep peace. 
 
For, unless I am very much mistaken, my dear Lucilius, we go astray in thinking that death only follows, when in reality it has both preceded us and will in turn follow us. Whatever condition existed before our birth, is death. For what does it matter whether you do not begin at all, or whether you leave off, inasmuch as the result of both these states is non-existence? 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 54 
 
I believe Mark Twain once made a similar argument, reminding us how the most humorous sayings are oftentimes also the wisest sayings. After all, death should hardly worry me, since I have already spent such a vastness of time without existing, so returning back to insensibility would therefore be nothing new. 
 
Broadening my perspective, to include what I had previously overlooked, tends to be momentarily jarring, though it has always done me good in the long run. What once seemed so big and imposing, is now so small and trivial. The intensity of pain or anxiety right here and now will fade as soon as I consider the bigger picture. It not only passes, it passes so very quickly when contrasted to the scale of the whole. 
 
I no longer fret so much over the prospect of any afterlife, not because I arrogantly choose to deny it, but because I do not presume to be the one who will make the call. If Providence has something in store for my future, I will gladly accept it, trusting full well that she knows what is best. I also wish to avoid the temptation of demanding or expecting any further reward for my efforts at living according to Nature. A son should not impose his terms upon the father. 
 
Since all change is ultimately a transformation, I am content with either becoming food for the worms or with some sort of continuation of consciousness, whatever that might be. I certainly should not think that an ending is in any way contrary to existence, or that reverting to nothing means I was never something, or, more properly, someone. In its service to the whole, the part is made to come and to go as it is needed. 
 

In any case, there is a limit to me, at least in this peculiar form, and that is as it was intended to be. Let me make the best use of the now, without any fear about finding myself precisely where I started out, back at the source. 

—Reflection written in 4/2013 

Man's Search for Meaning 1

The reader may ask me why I did not try to escape what was in store for me after Hitler had occupied Austria. Let me answer by recalling the following story. Shortly before the United States entered World War II, I received an invitation to come to the American Consulate in Vienna to pick up my immigration visa. My old parents were overjoyed because they expected that I would soon be allowed to leave Austria. 

I suddenly hesitated, however. The question beset me: could I really afford to leave my parents alone to face their fate, to be sent, sooner or later, to a concentration camp, or even to a so-called extermination camp? Where did my responsibility lie? Should I foster my brain child, logotherapy, by emigrating to fertile soil where I could write my books? Or should I concentrate on my duties as a real child, the child of my parents who had to do whatever he could to protect them? I pondered the problem this way and that but could not arrive at a solution; this was the type of dilemma that made one wish for "a hint from Heaven," as the phrase goes.

It was then that I noticed a piece of marble lying on a table at home. When I asked my father about it, he explained that he had found it on the site where the National Socialists had burned down the largest Viennese synagogue. He had taken the piece home because it was a part of the tablets on which the Ten Commandments were inscribed. One gilded Hebrew letter was engraved on the piece; my father explained that this letter stood for one of the Commandments. Eagerly I asked, "Which one is it?" He answered, "Honor thy father and thy mother that thy days may be long upon the land." At that moment I decided to stay with my father and my mother upon the land, and to let the American visa lapse.

—from Viktor Frankl, Man's Search for Meaning

Howard Jones, Dream into Action 4

It's funny how our own particular perspectives will shape how we read a poem or hear a song,  especially when it turns out the artist was coming from a somewhat different direction. 

"No One Is to Blame" took on a certain meaning for me when I first heard it, since at the time I found myself struggling with resentments about not getting what I wanted, and so I focused in on the chorus to remind me that finding fault and pointing fingers never solve anything. That remains a lifelong battle for me! 

Years later, I heard Jones explaining the origin of the song, and how it actually arose as a sort of homage to fidelity. We may feel certain attractions or urges, for which we shouldn't blame ourselves, which are distinct from acting on those attractions or urges. 

Indeed, emotions are tricky things, and while my struggle to practice Stoic values has taught me a bit about how to manage and direct my passions, they will often act as if they have a mind of their own. An impressions may come or it may go, but what matters is what I am going to choose to do with it. It's a bit like that old Cherokee story about having two wolves inside of you, and deciding which one you're going to feed. 

After this song was released as a single, Jones was at the height of his popularity in the USA. I have mixed feelings about the re-recording, as I prefer the more sparse and haunting sound of the original album version, and I have always felt that the influence of Phil Collins, though it helped the release in the charts, was a bit of a sellout. But that is just a matter of my preference, and I understand how intensely the studios will pressure an artist to sell a product. 

—5/2007 

A few words of commentary from Howard Jones: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PnWmRRL6hsQ&list=OLAK5uy_mN2Ly6tKSy0y1d0klY_kza9FHOfbzzJ5E&index=8

And the song itself. The first is the album version (straight from vinyl!): 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pK0qSSqL2E

The second is the singe version, with Phil Collins on drums and backing vocals, and produced by Hugh Padgham. There is marked difference here from the sound that Rupert Hine contributed to Jones' music: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pekhxxngQ3s&list=OLAK5uy_ksRpFrEL_onEROgkryRFr4rhIUu3vYyZc&index=8 

Howard Jones, "No One Is to Blame" from Dream into Action (1985) 

You can look at the menu, but you just can't eat
You can feel the cushions, but you can't have a seat
You can dip your foot in the pool, but you can't have a swim
You can feel the punishment, but you can't commit the sin

And you want her, and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her, and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame

You can build a mansion, but you just can't live in it
You're the fastest runner but you're not allowed to win
Some break the rules, and let you count the cost
The insecurity is the thing that won't get lost

And you want her, and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame

You can see the summit but you can't reach it
It's the last piece of the puzzle but you just can't make it fit
Doctor says you're cured but you still feel the pain
Aspirations in the clouds but your hopes go down the drain

And you want her, and she wants you
We want everyone
And you want her, and she wants you
No one, no one, no one ever is to blame

No one ever is to blame
No one ever is to blame

Delphic Maxims 29

Ἐχθροὺς ἀμύνου 

Beware of your enemies 

IMAGE: Jean-Leon Gerome, The Death of Caesar (1867) 

The Wisdom of Solomon 18:5-19

[5] When they had resolved to kill the babes of your holy ones, 
and one child had been exposed and rescued, 
you did in punishment take away a multitude 
of their children; 
and you did destroy them all together by a mighty flood. 
[6] That night was made known beforehand to our fathers, 
so that they might rejoice in sure knowledge 
of the oaths in which they trusted. 
[7] The deliverance of the righteous and the destruction
of their enemies 
were expected by your people. 
[8] For by the same means by which you did punish our enemies 
you did call us to yourself and glorify us. 
[9] For in secret the holy children of good men offered sacrifices, 
and with one accord agreed to the divine law, 
that the saints would share alike the same things, 
both blessings and dangers; 
and already they were singing the praises of the fathers. 
[10] But the discordant cry of their enemies echoed back, 
and their piteous lament for their children was spread abroad. 
[11] The slave was punished with the same penalty as the master, 
and the common man suffered the same loss as the king; 
[12] and they all together, by the one form of death, 
had corpses too many to count. 
For the living were not sufficient even to bury them, 
since in one instant their most valued children 
had been destroyed. 
[13] For though they had disbelieved everything 
because of their magic arts, 
yet, when their first-born were destroyed, 
they acknowledged your people to be God's sons. 
[14] For while gentle silence enveloped all things, 
and night in its swift course was now half gone, 
[15] your all-powerful word leaped from heaven, from 
the royal throne, 
into the midst of the land that was doomed, 
a stern warrior 
[16] carrying the sharp sword of your authentic command, and stood and filled all things with death, 
and touched heaven while standing on the earth. 
[17] Then at once apparitions in dreadful dreams 
greatly troubled them, 
and unexpected fears assailed them; 
[18] and one here and another there, hurled down half dead, 
made known why they were dying; 
[19] for the dreams which disturbed them forewarned them of this, 
so that they might not perish without knowing 
why they suffered. 

IMAGE: Charles Sprague Pearce, Lamentations Over the Death of the First-Born of Egypt (1877) 

Sayings of Ramakrishna 217

No man keeps a total fast. Some get food at 9 a.m., others at noon, others at 2 p.m., and others in the evening. 

Similarly, at some time or other, in this life or after many lives, all will see God. 

Seneca, Moral Letters 54.1

Letter 54: On asthma and death 

 
My ill-health had allowed me a long furlough, when suddenly it resumed the attack. 
 
"What kind of ill-health?" you say. 
 
And you surely have a right to ask; for it is true that no kind is unknown to me. But I have been consigned, so to speak, to one special ailment. I do not know why I should call it by its Greek name; for it is well enough described as "shortness of breath." Its attack is of very brief duration, like that of a squall at sea; it usually ends within an hour. Who indeed could breathe his last for long?
 
I have passed through all the ills and dangers of the flesh; but nothing seems to me more troublesome than this. And naturally so; for anything else may be called illness; but this is a sort of continued "last gasp." Hence physicians call it "practicing how to die." For some day the breath will succeed in doing what it has so often essayed.
 
Do you think I am writing this letter in a merry spirit, just because I have escaped? It would be absurd to take delight in such supposed restoration to health, as it would be for a defendant to imagine that he had won his case when he had succeeded in postponing his trial. 
 
Yet in the midst of my difficult breathing, I never ceased to rest secure in cheerful and brave thoughts. 

—from Seneca, Moral Letters 54 
 
The title our translator has attached to this letter makes me feel like I am about to read something closer to Existentialism than to Stoicism, but as soon as Seneca gets going, I see how he is taking something that is terribly painful, and then finding the sort of comfort in it that only a commitment to Nature can provide.
 
I have, thankfully, never had to bear any chronic problems with my breathing, and the best way I can relate to his description is an experience from my childhood, when I panicked in some deep water at the beach, and in my thrashing about swallowed a lungful of ocean. Being denied the power to take in air, even for a brief moment, is the closest I can imagine to how it feels to be dying. 
 
At around the same time, I knew a fellow in elementary school who suffered from severe asthma, and while I was too young to understand the specifics of his plight, I couldn’t help but notice three distinct qualities to his life: he clearly felt intense distress during an attack, he nevertheless bore it with incredible courage and calm, and I am fairly certain this helped him to be one the kindest and most patient people I have ever known. When the usual bullies mocked him about his condition, he would simply smile. 
 
Hardship can destroy a man, if only he so chooses, and hardship can also uplift a man, if only he so chooses. There is something truly noble about a willingness to be of good cheer in the presence of pain. I aspire to it all the more when I see everyday people find such peace in the midst of such agony. 
 
A part about my young friend that especially moved me was how he was quite aware that there would, sooner or later, be further attacks, any one of which might mean the end for him, and yet he always had the inner strength to endure it all with dignity. 
 
I have complained enough about a broken heart, or a throbbing head, or a shattered limb, and I know that I can be a much better man than I have so far been. That this or that has happened is made tolerable, and even redemptive, with a firmness of character, which remains constant in the awareness that every single circumstance is an opportunity for virtue and for joy. 

—Reflection written in 4/2013 

Stoic Snippets 205

Penetrate inwards into men's leading principles, and you will see what judges you are afraid of, and what kind of judges they are of themselves. 

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 9.18 

IMAGE: William Hogarth, The Bench (1758) 

The Art of Peace 100

If you comprehend 

The Art of Peace, 

This difficult path, 

Just as it is, 

Envelops the circle of Heaven. 

Seneca, Moral Letters 53.4

Turn to her, therefore, with all your soul, sit at her feet, cherish her; a great distance will then begin to separate you from other men. You will be far ahead of all mortals, and even the gods will not be far ahead of you. 
 
Do you ask what will be the difference between yourself and the gods? They will live longer. But, by my faith, it is the sign of a great artist to have confined a full likeness to the limits of a miniature. The wise man's life spreads out to him over as large a surface as does all eternity to a god. 
 
There is one point in which the sage has an advantage over the god; for a god is freed from terrors by the bounty of nature, the wise man by his own bounty.
 
What a wonderful privilege, to have the weaknesses of a man and the serenity of a god! The power of Philosophy to blunt the blows of chance is beyond belief. No missile can settle in her body; she is well-protected and impenetrable. She spoils the force of some missiles and wards them off with the loose folds of her gown, as if they had no power to harm; others she dashes aside, and hurls them back with such force that they recoil upon the sender. Farewell. 

—from Seneca. Moral Letters 53 
 
I find great comfort in thinking of Philosophy as feminine, even though I know how it offends the sensibilities of our age. I do so for the same reason a sailor speaks of his ship as a she, since I have the deepest affection, respect, and reverence for her, in that ascending order. Shun me all you like—I commit to chivalry. 
 
I am grateful I was still taught to see male and female as more than a matter of sex, but as the reflection of all the complementarities in Nature, and I still believe a man should express himself as a gentleman, and a woman as a lady. This is not a matter of external formalities, but of internal character. 
 
I know I am always a far better man for loving and honoring a woman, whether she be my mother, my wife, or my daughter, and a far worse man for treating her as a mere object for my gratification. 
 
I immediately think of Lady Philosophy from Boethius’ Consolation, who instills in me a profound sense of awe and deference. If I can manage to follow her with all of my heart and mind, what harm could ever befall me? 
 
She teaches me to rely upon my own virtues, and to rise above my circumstances. She comforts me when the world hurts, by reminding me why I need not be a slave to the world, and that the hurt is only from my own flawed estimation. 
 
The Divine is the perfection of all things, and to be greater in self-sufficiency is to be greater in perfection. By inspiring me to thrive according to the nature within me, Philosophy brings me just so much closer to God. 
 
You say I am weak because I will not live forever? No, I can be strong precisely because I can transform even this very brief moment into a glorious service to the true, the good, and the beautiful. There is no one out there who can stop me from being happy, if I only choose to be happy. 
 
How wonderful that while a god has more power over his surroundings, a decent man develops more power over himself, and thereby fulfills his own distinct brand of perfection. Even the smallest of folks can have the spunk to make Ares or Athena jealous! 
 
I find this passage so moving that I hesitate to say any more about it. Keep your bombs and your guns. Philosophy is the only defense I need. 

—Reflection written in 4/2013 

IMAGE: Giovanni Martinelli, An Allegory of Wisdom (c. 1645) 

Sayings of Heraclitus 73

All things are an exchange for Fire, and Fire for all things, even as wares for gold and gold for wares. 

Circle Limit I-IV

M.C. Escher, Circle Limit I-IV (1958-1960)