Plutarch’s Moralia: Relfection on “On Envy and Hatred”

A mother will try to console her wildly unpopular child by assuring him, “They’re just envious,” fearing to burden him with the truth that he may just be hateful, or annoying, unwilling to see it herself. But a thinking man would not let this comfort him for long, for how often is it, truly that hatred follows from envy? Some may say that is often true, and envy brings light to hatred; they must be at least somewhat related. One might use hatred to justify their envy. But it is clear that they are not one in the same. Plutarch in his Moralia makes clear why a mother telling such things to her son should not be of comfort. In the essay “On Hatred and Envy” he draws distinctions between the two: Hatred is brought on by disgust, feeling that someone or something is a threat, that one has wronged you or has ill will towards you. Envy is brought on by one’s prosperity and goodness, or high reputation. One can envy their friend, one cannot hate their friend. One can simultaneously like someone and envy them, but it is not so with hatred. Envy is aggravated by one’s success, kindness towards you, or virtue. It is soothed by one showing that they are less good; whether a downfall of success or show that they are not virtuous. Hatred is roused by one’s badness, worsened by almost anything that the hated does. But it is pacified by the hated acting well or showing kindness. It is clear that they differ essentially by their causes, therefore they cannot be one in the same. Does this then mean that they cannot overlap?

It seems that the reason why people conflate hatred and envy is because they speak of the material envy. Envy over one’s belongings, success, appearance, talent can certainly bring upon hatred, if the person is not a virtuous individual. If the person is swelling with pride, superiority over the smaller man, unkindness, dishonesty and false persona, then it becomes easier to hate them for their success. We feel that such people are undeserving of such success, or that they abuse it, and we ourselves don’t want them to possess it. We are resentful that others extol them and respect them and like them, for they have not earned it, at least in our eyes. Most of all we are resentful because we feel that we ourselves deserve it more, but we do not have it. This, however, for the sake of consistency with definition, is an entirely different phenomena than envy itself. But may I propose another idea; that this may be a way of coping with envy. When one is envious, he alleviates his envy by finding flaw in the envied, in other words, finding reason to hate him instead of envy him. It is easier to hate than envy, for it puts the other man at fault, whereas envy is entirely self inflicted and is a pain caused not by someone else, but their competence in relation to your own incompetence. It is an affliction on the ego, an assault on the pride. Hatred, like anger, can feel empowering. So it remains that they are not the same. But is the mother still wrong in comforting her child with such a claim? Yes, people do not hate purely out of envy. And if they hate to ease their envy, it should not be comforting, for it only means they were able to find a flaw which brings you down enough to comfort them.

Why do we seek relief from envy but not from hatred? Hatred we build up and work to justify it more and more, but we never wish to justify our envy, in fact, we want it to be proven unnecessary. First, it is that envy is entirely aimed at the self. It is pain at one’s goodness because it shines a light on your faultiness. You are resentful not of the envied, but of yourself and the circumstances responsible for what you are. One’s joy causes your suffering, but one’s suffering causes you to think, “So he is like me.” You do not wish to inflict the envied man’s failure, as you would with one you hate, but it does supply you with comfort if it happens. Hatred is an indulgence of the pride, for in hating and looking down upon someone, you are inclined to see the ways in which you are superior and your pride begins to grow. Envy is a result of pride, for pride which is big is also easily perturbed. It is discontentment and pain associated with another’s success. Both are vices which are a result of pride.

So how do we overcome envy? It is simple: love. In Christianity, the Scriptures gives us these insights, “Love your neighbor as yourself…” “…That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.” “Love does not envy, it does not boast.” In other words, love is not prideful, for pride only comes from the sense that you are your own person, an individual attached to no one or nothing else. And envy is prideful, therefore love, in fact, does not envy. To love your neighbor is to make their suffering your suffering, and their joy your joy. How can one be envious at the goodness of your neighbor if it is also yours?

Athens vs. Jerusalem Christians

Sola Scriptura, Sola Fide, are the ways by which we, as Christians, attain Truth. But simultaneously, there are things that we can see, in ourselves, in the world, in logic, namely in the understanding and philosophy which preceded Christianity, that affirm the truth as we know it through the Scriptures and faith. But in recognizing these things, are we betraying the faith and falling towards weakness? In Tertullian’s “Prescription against Heretics,” he discusses the nature of heresy. He makes the point first, that heresy is always around, for it is a result of weakness, and there is always weakness. Second, that it is self-inflicted, just as sin is. His main point is that it displays a lack of faith, because it more often than not comes out of man’s desire to justify or explain things that don’t make worldly sense, rather than trusting that they are true through faith. Faith is the full submission of the self to God, the Divine, heresy being the lack thereof. “Our instruction comes from ‘the porch of Solomon,’ who had himself taught that ‘the Lord should be sought in simplicity of heart.’” Therefore seeking God through reason as if trying to prove Him is heretical. “The Son of God was crucified; I am not ashamed because men must needs be ashamed of it. And the Son of God died; it is by all means to be believed, because it is absurd. And He was buried, and rose again; the fact is certain, because it is impossible.” To be a Christian means to come to God as a child, an obedient child, thus submitting to Him without question.

So if Faith is full submission to the Divine, and lack of faith constitutes heresy, and man inserting his own contemplation into the faith is a display of lack of faith, then this is heresy. This leaves a bit of a problem for the Athens Christians, those who came out of a pagan world. Tertullian expresses this sentiment in his more well known phrase, “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” In the section where he writes this, he writes about how the pagan ideals, philosophy and dialectic of Athens influence its Christianity. To him this is a prime example of inserting the contemplations of man into the Word of God, or heresy. “Away with all attempts to produce a mottled Christianity of Stoic, Platonic, and dialectic composition! We want no curious disputation after possessing Christ Jesus, no inquisition after enjoying the gospel! With our faith, we desire no further belief. For this is our palmary faith, that there is nothing which we ought to believe besides. “

Clement of Alexandria is an Athens Christian who does these things which Tertullian speaks against. In Clement’s work The Paedagogus, he writes of God as the Divine Instructor. God is the instructor and we are his children, and he transforms our souls for the higher Good. He uses language that suggests similarities to that of the philosophers. He guides us away from the passions of the soul, which are irrational for they are against reason, and creates virtue in us, which is that which is reasonable. This language is identical to that of the Stoics and Platonists; that we should not indulge our passions but look to Reason, for all that is against Reason is irrational, and that which is in alignment with it is Good, and considered “virtue.” Here is a quote from The Paedagogus: “But if human wisdom, as it remains to understand, is the glorying in knowledge, hear the law of Scripture: ‘Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, and let not the mighty man glory in his might; but let him that glories glory in the Lord.’ But we are God-taught, and glory in the name of Christ.” He makes the point that God teaches us, not only through his Word, but through life. He can shape us towards good and virtue and incline our hearts to his Wisdom, therefore the wisdom of the world (foolishness) that Tertullian so speaks of, according to Clement is still also the wisdom of God.

So Tertullian claims that man should need no further belief than his faith in the Word of God. Any contemplations that man makes which are outside of the concreteness of the Word itself are foolish and a show of weakness of faith. Clement, however, as an Athens Christian, uses the wisdom of the stoic and other philosophers to articulate ideas about the Faith. The heart of the conflict lies in the idea of what the meaning of “worldly wisdom” means. To Tertullian, he just cites Proverbs. The wisdom of the world is just foolishness, for it abides not in God or Christ but in man’s own inferior mind. Clement, however claims that some of this “worldly wisdom” is God-taught. Does wisdom become stupid when the thing that it is directed it is not Christ? Or is wisdom still wise, just incomplete, without God? Wisdom is how one should live their life. Tertullian would claim that if their life is not for God, it is not wise, but Clement may assert that how one approaches the Good is a big part of wisdom. His approach to the faith is basically substituting God into the principles of Stoicism, which just happen to coincide with the principles expressed in God’s word.

I am inclined to agree more with Clement. I believe that Christianity did not cancel out every part of Paganism; it did not just tell them, “you’re wrong, only we have the truth,” but rather, “You are on the right track, but here is the truth which completes it.” When Plato talks of the Good, True, and Beautiful, Reason, the gods, as all the other philosophers do, he is only using these terms because he does not know of the God of the Trinity, who fulfills all of these roles. God is the Good, True, and Beautiful, he is the force which drives all things, he is Reason, he is Justice, he is Virtue, and he is Love. Philosophers sought Truth, and when Truth came in the form of a man, all of their contemplations needed not go further. Christ provided an end to their contemplations, and satisfied their hearts. Now, I do also see the value in Tertullian’s argument. It is indeed by Faith alone that we should believe in God, because unlike everything else, God is not a contingent reality, but rather an eternal truth. He is, in spite of all things, what we may call evidence or indication. So if all things which point to Christ, all contemplations that were somewhat in accordance with the Word, were to disappear, a Christian would not stop believing, for it would be by faith that he knows the Truth. But if there are other things which are clearly in front of us that point to Christ in various different ways, then there is no heresy or corruption in acknowledging them, though at the end of all, it is grounded in faith. Just as the beauty of nature and the glory of art proclaims his Creation and divine intelligence, it is not what a Christian would rely on for belief. So, Clement and Tertullian I’m sure can agree that faith is the basis for all belief initially, and the belief does not die until the faith does.

“Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben” Analysis

Bach’s Cantata BWV 147, “Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben,” was played for the Feast of the Visitation of Mary. The readings of that day were Isaiah 11:1-5 and Luke 1:39-56 (The Magnificat). The first reading is a prophesy of Christ (the Branch which stems from Jesse’s tree) who will come as God incarnate and smite evil. The second is the Magnificat of Mary.

The opening chorus of this Cantata begins with the bright and joyous sounds of brass playing in the soprano range, as if reaching towards the heavens. The Sopranos come in first and the Altos join on a beautiful counterpoint. The Soprano part imitates the theme expressed in the brass at the beginning, and is sung gloriously high. The tenor and bass joins this counterpoint, and the theme recurs within the different parts (the theme is introduced within the first measure of the Soprano line and also partially expressed starting in the 4th beat of the first measure of the very beginning played by brass). The words read:

Heart and mouth and deed and living

Must for Christ their witness offer

Without fear and falsity

That he God and Savior is.

The voices sing as though they are making a proclamation, almost a command along the lines of “Fear and serve the Lord your God.” But the joyous sound indicates that there is more to this statement than mere duty, that in fearing God there is great joy and fulfillment.

Next, there is the Tenor Recitative, the Alto Aria, the Bass Recitative, and the Soprano Aria. The Tenor and Bass Recitatives are both sung with more intensity, but the Soprano Aria is sung sweetly, and the soprano range matches the nature of the words:

Make ready, O Jesus, to thee now the way;

My Savior, elect now

My soul ever faithful

And look down with eyes full of grace now on me!

For it is a plea, and the vulnerability of a plea is shown in the Aria.

The first half of the Cantata finishes with the Chorus often recognized as “Jesu Bleibet meine Freude.” The words are:

Blest am I that I have Jesus,

Oh, how firmly I hold him,

That he bring my soul refreshment

When I’m ill and filled with grief.

I have Jesus, who doth love me

And himself to me entrusteth;

Ah, I’ll hence leave Jesus not,

Even though my heart should break.

In the music for this section, the orchestra plays a lovely melody composed of slurred sets of three eighth notes, creating a rhythm one feels they can sway back and forth to. There is a beautiful sense of contentment and fulfillment in the music, the choir sings SATB polyphony, with no complex counterpoint and much less tension and resolution as previous parts. This matches the lyrics!

After another set of Recitatives and Arias, the same chorus repeats, but this time on the words:

Jesus shall remain my gladness,

Essence of my heart, its hope;

Jesus from all grief protecteth,

He is of my life its strength,

Of mine eyes the sun and pleasure,

Of my soul the joy and treasure;

Therefore I will Jesus not

From my heart and sight allow.

The same sense of contentment and fulfillment, and ultimately joy is expressed in these words, and it makes for a beautiful ending. The ending resides in the joy that Christ brings, for he fulfills the desires of every man.

 

Court Opinion Paper-Rhetoric II

The courtroom is home to argumentation. Where there is argumentation there are all sorts of treasures to be found. Rhetoric; moving people’s souls, dialectic; reasoning closer to the core of a question, enthymemes, eloquent speech, and the list goes on. The Supreme Court is the grandest courtroom, and it is home to some grand arguments, in which men grapple with issues and situations that beckon deep insights into the very essence of the laws and Constitution. In such a setting, everyone is working to persuade everyone else towards their position, and in order to do this, the art of Rhetoric is needed. But of course, how does one attain insights into the essential meaning of the laws and Constitution and apply them to the given situations? How does one reason towards them? By dialectic. Dialectic is persuasive in itself, and holds a lot of rhetorical quality. One man who makes great use of dialectic in his arguments is the great Justice Scalia, and I wish to look into his arguments made during the Texas vs. Johnson case in 1989.

In 1989, during a rally for President Reagan, a man was protesting by burning a flag as people chanted around him. There was no violence, though many were offended who saw his actions, but either way, he was charged with disorderly conduct and flag desecration. The main question at stake was whether or not flag burning was protected under the First Amendment. The court eventually concluded that the defendant’s actions were protected, and that freedom of speech did in fact grant him the right to do such things. Justice Scalia was in agreement with the conclusion, and made some very good arguments at the beginning of the case. He did not give any long speeches, but rather pithy questions or arguments, much like our friend Socrates in contrast to the sophist Protagoras. Though it is usually the longer monologues that people praise for being moving and rhetorically excellent, I find the dialectic of Justice Scalia to be very sound and persuasive on its own. Of course there are rhetorical qualities to be discussed, primarily his Ethos, but the effect of his dialectical excellence is where the focus shall be.

His argument was laid out in a series of responses to the prosecutor’s claims. Kathi Alyce Drew was arguing that the prohibition of flag desecration was a valid statute and that the defendant violated it. One of her first claims is that it is important to preserve the flag as a symbol, and make sure that it is not destroyed. Justice Scalia responds, saying: “Now, why did the defendant’s actions here destroy the symbol? His actions would have been useless unless the flag was a very good symbol for what he intended to show contempt for. His action does not make it any less of a symbol.”

Now there is a lot that goes into a short statement like this, which is greatly enthymemic in nature. First, he had to identify the parts of her argument, and follow them to the conclusion, point out where there the problem or inconsistency is and state his disagreement. Her argument was essentially, “If the flag is burned, the symbol is destroyed.” and this implies that a symbol can be physically destroyed. Scalia drew out this implication simply from her words, “We believe that preservation of the flag as a symbol of nationhood and national unity is a compelling state interest…[Congress and the state] should take the steps to prevent the destruction of that symbol, to protect the symbol.”

This embodies the purpose of dialectic, as Aristotle defines it, “a process of criticism wherein lies the path to the principles of all inquiries.” The ability to draw out the implications within an enthymeme is second nature to Scalia, and he articulates it pithily and simply. Moving on, Ms. Drew responds to his retort. “Your Honor, we believe that if a symbol over a period of time is ignored or abused that it can, in fact lose its symbolic effect.” To which Justice Scalia responds,

“I think not at all. I think when somebody does that to the flag, the flag becomes even more a symbol for the country. I mean, it seems to me you’re running quite a different argument, not that he’s destroying its symbolic character, but that he is showing disrespect for it, that you not just want a symbol, but you want a venerated symbol, and you don’t make that argument because then you’re getting into a sort of content preference. But I don’t see how you can argue that he’s making it any less of a symbol than it was.”

So Justice Scalia identified this implication that the symbol is destroyed when the object is destroyed, and he followed it to the core and finished her argument for her; and it ended in a conclusion that wouldn’t hold up well in court; that is that she is demanding the flag be respected. Also, he makes the case that when something is a symbol, the symbolism exists outside of the physical permanence of the object. Also that if someone is burning a flag to show contempt for America, that only strengthens the meaning of the symbol. This is his refutation of her argument, and it is well executed.

She repeats herself again, and says just simply that a manner of flag desecration carried out by the defendant is so clearly a violation. Justice Scalia jumps in again.

“They desecrate the flag indeed, but do they destroy the symbol? Do they make it any less symbolic of the country? That’s the argument I thought you were running, that we have a right to have a national symbol. And if you let the people desecrate the flag, we won’t have a national symbol. I don’t see how that follows.”

It appears that Justice Scalia knows what the lady’s argument is better than she does! He now points out where she changes her argument, and where the premises don’t follow from one another.

Throughout the case, Scalia continues to tear apart the other side’s arguments in quick pithy statements, exposing their ambiguities. But I believe that a great deal of his argument was made in the beginning, since Drew’s main argument was that flag desecration destroys the symbol. If this is not true what does she have left? It’s unconstitutional to force one to respect the flag, so it cannot be about respect. It cannot be about violence, because it does not follow necessarily from flag burning. It cannot be about property, for a flag is not always public property. It cannot be about intention, for that too is unconstitutional. He secretly had her cornered from the very beginning. He was able to so quickly find the heart of the matter without much digging, and pluck it from the chest of the argument to expose it for all of its incoherency. It is clear that he is well versed in dialectic. Like anyone with a fully cultivated skill, they do it cleanly and effortlessly.

Why, you may ask, is Justice Scalia’s argument so great? What is so rhetorically potent about it? It is not exactly what you would call an eloquent, pathos-rich speech. As I said before, his style, at least in this case, is a series of concise responses to the enthymemic claims being made by the other side, mirroring that of our dearest Socrates. My Great Teacher may be dubious of what I am getting at, for he adheres to the teaching of Richard Weaver, who claims that the pure dialectician lacks in human understanding. Now, there are a few things which are very rhetorical about Scalia’s speech, namely, his ethos. He is a man of good humor; he cracks jokes every now and then and must be one of the only justices to arouse laughter from the audience. He speaks simply, and does not indulge in flowery speech; he is able to communicate an idea packed with thought in a few statements, as you saw earlier. In terms of his personality, those who work with him say that they often disagree with him, and he is just so sure of himself, but they can never be angry with him because he is simply too charming. The slight amount of “Are you stupid? How do you not see this?” in his tone of voice when arguing draws a contrast between him and the other more poised judges. With this established, let me return to the point. Dialectic, I believe, can be one of the most moving things there is on its own. I do reckon that when Weaver speaks of pure dialectic in a negative fashion, he is speaking of dialectic devoid of an end or purpose, rather than dialectic devoid of rhetorical style. I do agree, and wish to make the point that dialectic, when robbed of an end, is meaningless. But I must disagree with the latter opinion, for dialectic in itself, I believe is not separate from rhetoric, but rather is intertwined with it. Dialectic is itself, deeply rhetorical, in that it persuades, and appeals to the human mind. People, being creatures who reason, being made in the image of a God who reasons, may find beauty or magic in the structure of an argument or a syllogism, and in some ways man attaches himself to his argument. So when it is destroyed, when a plank is pulled from it and it comes crashing down, one can imagine that it does have an emotional impact. Like an epiphany or realization. Same is the satisfaction in making a claim, and then building around it, until finally the last piece connects to the initial claim, which is then born again as a truth. Dialectic is divine, and connects to the human spirit very deeply. Why are the Platonic dialogues enjoyable? Why is Socrates venerated? Because he was more than the sophists who played with words; he reasoned always with an end, that end being truth; and truth resonates with people.

I would say that in the Texas vs. Johnson case, most of us intuitively side with the prosecutor. We love our flag, and our country, and for that to be treated in such a way may enlighten great fury in us as patriots. Justice Scalia felt the same way, but he had an end in mind, and that was to at all costs protect the Constitution and do whatever was most true to what it means, and preserve all rights protected under it. So he was able to escape this bias, which is a perfectly reasonable bias to have, mind you, and readily defend the document which it is his duty to defend! And this was always the telos of his reasoning. With this in mind, he was able to identify the implications in a given statement and evaluate its soundness. It may very well be just another reason why Antonin Scalia was the greatest.

Weaver’s “The Unsentimental Sentiment”- Reflection

After reading Richard Weaver’s essay, “The Unsentimental Sentiment,” I found that much of what he discusses has a very current relevance. I can see very clearly what he is speaking of and can quickly see the relation of it to various things in the modern situation. Alongside that, it also gives an insight into the role of Rhetoric and its significance and importance.

In this essay, Weaver discusses the cultural importance of what he calls “the metaphysical dream.” It is the most important element of man’s thinking. The metaphysical dream is essential to good will. It is the goal that all of man’s faculties work for, and gives them all meaning and purpose. This gives man something to be driven towards, to strive for. When men live among one another sharing a familiar dream, this is a good culture. The dream rests in the human intuition, and is reinforced by Reason, and brought into light by realities and sentiments. Weaver stresses the importance of forms and ideals, and criticizes the barbarism which cares to know only the physical realities of any given thing. This then leads to relativism, something which is dangerous to a person and to a culture. If one only cares to see things for their material value, they stop making distinctions, and they stop classifying things as their proper forms. Logic then just gets twisted up in its own knot always circling back on itself, going to no end, fulfilling no purpose. This can lead to twisted demagoguery and confusion. Since these metaphysical sentiments reside in the conscience of every man, he must rid himself of them to think in a relativist, or materialist way, which of course leads ultimately to insanity. All of these things rely on each other for a cultured mind: Logic and reason, sentiments and metaphysical realities, the moral imagination, and the telos of it all; the metaphysical dream. We see, however, that in an age of secularism and progressive thinking, this way of thinking is flourishing.

At one point in his essay, Weaver states:

“In any case, it has been left to the world of science and rationalism to make a business of purveying of the private and the offensive. Picture magazines and tabloid newspapers place before the millions scenes and facts which violate every definition of humanity. How common is it today to see upon the front page of some organ destined for a hundred thousand homes the agonized face of a child run over in the street, the dying expression of a woman crushed by a subway train, tableaux of execution, scenes of intense private grief. These are the obscenities… The extremes of passion and suffering are served up to enliven the breakfast table or to lighten the boredom of an evening at home. The area of privacy has been abandoned because the definition of person has been lost; there is no longer a standard by which to judge what belongs to the individual man.”

I find this to be true. Now, by this I’m not saying that everything that’s disturbing should be censored necessarily, I’m just stating the effect that these things have on a society. It is true that there are images which should be seen and thought disturbing, or cause one to look away, which are looked on in fascination, in an entertaining fashion. Men have become desensitized to such things, because of the narrative that we should see things ‘as they are.’It’s just the human body, it’s just some blood, it’s just a meat suit run by a brain. These kind of notions, which follow from materialism, pose a threat to our humanity and our morals. I find that this resonates most in the case of abortion and euthanasia. In these cases, ‘death’ turns into ‘termination,’ and ‘killing’ turns into ‘removing’ or ‘putting down.’ What all the new terms have in common is that they are used in referring not to a person, but a thing. In the case of abortion, it is not just a distressed mother who cannot raise her child throwing herself down a flight of stairs. Though this be a tragedy, it is a human tragedy; the violent angst and insanity of a woman driving her to do crazy and terrible things, not caring in that moment that that is her child. Abortion as we know it, however is not the same. A mother’s distress becomes a deliberate appointment, giving her plenty of time to think about it. The doctors assure her that she will be okay, then they sterilize themselves and their tools, and get to work. Without their faces wavering in their expression, they carefully pull apart this mass inside the woman. What this is goes beyond human tragedy as we know it. This is a certain corruption, a true evil. For it is not the passions taking reign and pushing one over the edge, it is pure reason, deprived of the sentiments in the human conscience. The child is a cluster of cells, and this cluster of cells is an inconvenience, so why keep it? Euthanasia bears the same corruption. It is not the tragedy of a man so deeply wrought by pain and hopelessness that he takes a gun to his head, but rather the gentle shutting down of a machine that doesn’t work as well anymore. Likewise, it goes beyond human tragedy into the realm of inhuman corruption.

Materialism then teaches us to value things based on their convenience to us, or how they make us feel, for what other value is there without the forms which Weaver exemplifies? Of course these forms must be supported by a final destination, which is sought in religion and philosophy. In our case it is God and Christ. He is the beginning and the end, all things return to him for he created them. Because of the victory won on the cross, Christians can live understanding that there is a life beyond this one. This is the “metaphysical dream” which drives us and dictates our actions and principles. With that, I feel that I should also address why secularism will always have trouble standing. One can reject God, reject and end and purpose, and logically live by materialist standards. One can say “I am only a brain in a meat suit,” or “intelligence and genetics is what makes the superior man,” for if you hold secularist views, these are the propositions which follow. But the problem is this: the sentiments which drive us towards a familiar vision, forms and ideals, the value of life, rest in the human intuition. One can say “There is no right or wrong, but only thinking makes it so,” but they don’t actually believe it. They aren’t only insane, but like Hamlet was, they are pretending to be. The notions which follow from secularism go against the notions in the human conscience. This is why they try to present “secular morality” as a thing at all, even though it obviously has no basis. Ultimately, a society run by secularism will not stand, for the people will always be seeing that something is wrong.

Now, all of this has a very important place in Rhetoric. Rhetoric, as defined by Aristotle, is “the faculty of discovering in any particular case the available means of persuasion.” First we must establish that by “available means” we are speaking of any means which are real and true. Second, we must know that in the process of persuasion, one must appeal to the audience in such a way as to move them. As the great and ingenious professor, Dr. James Tallmon states, “We use words… to pique the imagination, which stirs the emotions, which moves the will.” In order to do such things, one must appeal to more than pure reason, they must touch the conscience; appeal to the intuition. Rhetoric, then, cannot properly exist in a society where notions of the conscience are destroyed to be replaced by pure logic. But how can one reason if there are no propositions? The propositions are limited to material truths. Because of this, rhetoric can no longer have a proper place. It is replaced by the tool; the tool which now serves no function but to twist around on itself, never to reach any end. Persuasion can only be executed with twisted dialectical reasoning which has nothing to rest on, which is demagoguery. Rhetoric is not the only art that is defiled and destroyed. All of the arts; the expression of these metaphysical dreams and formal realities which unite a culture, are nothing. The art scene would be reduced to abstract art, and the music would be tonal chaos, there wouldn’t be any more stories; it would all be experimentation. Using the theory of color, of tone, of words, to no real purpose. Using logical reasoning, but having no truths to rest it on.

Weaver stresses in his essay the importance of these things for a culture. A true culture is united by a similar metaphysical vision. Something which I’ve always liked to refer to as “a distant memory of Eden.” If the human intuition is not destroyed by, but rather supported by reason, rhetoric and the other arts can properly be, and can be aimed to a proper end; and end shared by all. In this is a magnificent unity and harmony, in spite of every small difference that the individual man may have. The conscience and intuition remains, and art brings light upon those things.

Rhetorical Criticism on Winston Churchill

  During the second World War, in 1940, the Dunkirk evacuation took place. It was also named “The miracle of Dunkirk” for many soldiers were saved from great disaster that day. The Germans were attacking the French shores, and the allied troops on the shores managed to be evacuated and re-embarked, in the face of hopelessness. Still then, there were many soldiers who were left to face the situation. The people rejoiced and considered this a victory, and in their euphoria, Sir Winston Churchill delivered one of his great speeches to the House of Commons at the Parliament of the UK. Known as “We shall fight on the beaches,” this oration made known the great military disaster, assured that victory was not found in evacuation, and urged the British people to fight for their country.

This speech is often remembered as one of the great speeches in history, for it was effective and properly suited the occasion, and persuaded toward an end which all know is best. Churchill did indeed use Aristotle’s three modes of artistic proof beautifully, and his words flowed with eloquent prose and overall coherency. One may see nobility in his character and in his ideas expressed through his words. He appeals to the principles deep in the minds of the British people, which moves them, and really, this speech would move anyone, even one who doesn’t know what it’s like to be fighting a war. There is a noble patriotism embedded in his speech, and it is resounding with courage and fortitude.

First, his ethos is good. In his deliverance, he speaks with authority, but with calmness. He does not speak with much expression in his voice, nor is it monotone. He speaks as one who will handle the war with tact, vigor, and prudence; an intelligent and authoritative man. If I just insert a small part from the speech, you may see how this comes across in his words alone: “I feared it would be my hard lot to announce the greatest military disaster in our long history…These were the hard and heavy tidings for which I called upon the ouse and the nation to prepare themselves a week ago. The whole root and core and brain of the British Armies in the later years of the war, seemed about to perish upon the field or to be led into an ignominious and starving captivity.”  

Not getting too far into the real heart of his speech, already, his ethos already comes across. His words are graceful yet effortless. Effortlessness gives the audience trust in the speaker, for one who has to strain for the right words may very well be pushing towards an unrightful goal. His poetic way of speaking, that is being able to make a point and say much in few words, shows a degree of straightforwardness, a venerable characteristic in a leader and a man. He says in response to the thankfulness of the people for Dunkirk: “We must be very careful not to assign to this deliverance the attributes of victory. Wars are not won by evacuations. But there was a victory inside this deliverance, which should be noted.” Also at the end, “Nevertheless, our thankfulness at the escape of our Army and so many men, whose loved ones have passed through an agonizing week, must not blind us to the fact that what has happened in France and Belgium is a colossal military disaster.”

These statements are somewhat of wake-up calls to the people, and such words show a man of good sense and judgment.

Churchill also has a solid structure and coherency throughout his speech. He is making one point, very clearly and has a clear purpose: to urge the people to fight for their country, and giving them the will to. He starts by giving an in-depth description of the recent disaster, which engages people’s sympathies, or more appropriately, concern and need to take action. He then praises the efforts and the persistence of the British Army, not just in this instance but throughout history. This supports his reason for them to go and fight. So, his structure goes as so: There was a military disaster. This is how the British handled it. Now that there are to be attacks in the future, this is how we must handle it.

It is a simple structure, which goes to say that the effectiveness of his speech doesn’t lie as much in the logos as it does in the pathos.

I would say that the strongest mode that Churchill uses in this speech is pathos. His prose and poetic wording, alongside his appeal to principles, all play a role in good persuasion. His use of poetry in this passage appeals to a great patriotic passion in every man.

“There never has been, I suppose in all the world, in all the history of war, such an opportunity for youth. The Knights of the Round Table, the Crusaders, all fall back into the past- not only distant but prosaic; these young men, going forth every morn to guard their native land and all that we stand for, holding in their hands these instruments of colossal and shattering power, of whom it may be said that

Every morn brought forth noble chance

And every chance brought forth a noble knight,

Deserve our gratitude, as do all the brave men who, in so many ways and on so many occasions, are ready, and continue ready to give life and all for their native land.”

A man has a love for his fatherland embedded in his mind. It is an impulse to protect and love his own country and homeland. This is what patriotism is. This is the impulse which made Rome great, which made America great. All war and violence was inspired by a passionate love for one’s own country, her people, and most of all the ideals which uphold her. Churchill’s words move this part of the soul and ignite a fire inside every man, reminding him that the lengths of his love go to his willingness to die for her. It is a particularly masculine desire as well, that for Honor and nobility. He brings light to these passions, and that is what truly makes his speech persuasive. I quote the ending words of his speech to further demonstrate how he communicates these things:

“Even though large tracts of Europe and many old and famous States have fallen or may fall into the grip of the Gestapo and all the odious apparatus of Nazi rule, we shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence, and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be, we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender, and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this Island or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our Empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British Fleet, would carry on the struggle, until, in God’s good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old”

His instruction to endure the struggle until the end is an important part of the speech, for it comes with an understanding that they are at a disadvantage, and they are on the defensive. He does not shirk the possibility of defeat and desolation, but rather considers it a case of desperation and necessity.

“I have, myself, full confidence that if all do their duty, if nothing is neglected, and if the best arrangements are made, as they are being made, we shall prove ourselves once again able to defend our Island home, to ride out the storm of war, and to outlive the menace of tyranny, if necessary for years, if necessary alone. At any rate, that is what we are going to try to do.”

More specifically, in his examples of how the British army has been before, persistent, he raises the impulse in the British people. Like in George S. Patton’s great speech: “Americans were born to fight.” It is an appeal to the mental state and nature of the group being addressed. In this case he addresses the British people, and shows how they have fended off tyranny and malice before. How they were not ones to surrender or retreat. That is why he was careful to remind that the evacuation may have been fortunate, but was not a victory. This made the speech very suitable for the occasion.

Churchill was an eloquent speaker in his words. Not much can be said on his diction, for he was a chain smoker with a speech impediment, maybe a short tongue. Thus he is hard to understand at times. Nevertheless, his words resound and inspire. This speech, like all great speeches, is considered great because it was truly persuasive, and also honest and good-willed. And like most of the great speeches, the aftermath of the speech was the action which it was persuading towards. With his clear stated structure and coherency, beautiful English, inspiring pathos and appeal to beautiful ideals, his calm and leader-like ethos, he made a masterpiece. Like a great edifice, carefully and properly embellished, with nothing unnecessary to say what is being said, Churchill left quite the legacy with his orations alone.

 

The Burden of Sin: Confessions of Saint Augustine Reflection

After reading Saint Augustine’s Confessions, I would find many parts sticking with me, as they would with most, since his writing is an honest expression of the human soul. Thoughts that had previously crossed my mind I found were written here in perfect poetry. Profound insights into the self and man were stated truly and clearly. Never in the whole book does one once doubt a word Augustine is saying, because the entire thing is just an honest confession, and the confessions of his own nature are perfectly coherent with the confessions of the faith. When reading, one feels that his confessions could very well be one’s own. Any intellectual claims he makes are always backed by this perfect dialectic. This is all to say, the Confessions is art. It is poetic and very rhetorical, it is true to the human soul, and it is passionate yet rational. I was moved.

In Book VIII, there was a section which struck me, and stayed with me, more than any others. Augustine speaks about the burden of sin, and likens it to the burden of a deep sleep. He is confessing the part of his life where he realized two things: the intellectual truth of Christianity, and the truth of sin; that the impulses of the flesh and the spirit are at odds. Having been living a base life and engaging in many pleasures of the body, he was not willing to give this up, though he knew rationally that the truth was better. He says:

Instead of fearing, as I ought, to be held back by all that encumbered me, I was frightened to be free of it. In fact I bore the heavy burden of the world as contentedly as one sometimes bears a heavy load of sleep. My thoughts, as I meditated upon you, were like the efforts of a man who tries to wake but cannot and sinks back into the depths of slumber. No one wants to sleep forever, for everyone rightly agrees that it is better to be awake. Yet a man often staves off the effort to rouse himself when his body is leaden with inertia. He is glad to settle down once more, although it is against his better judgement and it is already time he were up and about. In the same way I was quite sure that it was better for me to give myself up to your love than to surrender my own lust. But while I wanted to follow the first course and was convinced that it was right, I was still a slave to the pleasures of the second.

This is true; it is certainly difficult to surrender the pleasures of the body, especially since indulging in them is enjoyable. Satisfying any appetite is always at least temporarily enjoyable. Not only is there pleasure in this indulgence, but pain in leaving it unquenched; the pain of longing. Naturally, we are slaves to these desires, our first inclination being to serve them. We therefore are hesitant to give them up, even in spite of knowing better.

It does not stop here, though. This deep sleep which Augustine speaks of does not stop at the pleasures of the body; it is not mere will power against the impulses. Man can often be found afflicted with fear and anxiety, rage and anger, delusion, and things of the like. All of these things come with pain and anguish, constant discontentment, and clearly cause one pain. So why, then, does man hold onto these things with the same stubbornness with which he holds onto the pleasures? What a burden it is to feel frightened of the world in anticipation for the bad, especially if the object of your fear is not anything terrifying! What a burden it is to carry the load of revenge on your back, even knowing that vengeance will reap no benefits. What sorrow in delusion, a feigned happiness! Why indulge in false happiness if true happiness and joy is there? Why be full of worry and fear if you could be calm and content? Why be consumed in the rage of vengeance if you can rather forgive? Why be a slave if freedom has offered her hand to you? These things are destructive to the soul; they turn one’s eyes from the good and force them upon the earthly and the irrational, with great intensity and passion. Man’s conscience speaks in opposition, and then starts the war inside of him, which is the crux of human suffering. Yet, man will hold onto these sins. Even if knows his soul is being consumed, and that his spirit is dying, he does not allow the burden to be lifted. These burdens are similar to the pleasures of the body, for they are passions, and man often feels that he doesn’t even have any control over them. But they differ in the sense that they are not pleasures, and are in fact torturous to bear. The truth is, whether the master is giving or cruel, the slave will always be a slave.

A man seeking revenge can be told to let it go, for it will leave him empty and full of sorrow. He can know this but still not give it up, and he will grant you with one simple reason: “I cannot.” One who is afraid will answer likewise to being told to face his fears. “I cannot, for my impulses won’t allow it.” This is the slavery of sin. Even as we know in our minds what is good, we feel that we have no choice but to remain with our current disposition. For one, we feel that we have no control over it, and for another, we almost don’t want to be freed. There is a small part that is afraid to have the burden lifted, as if we will be lacking a part of ourselves after. One could compare it to having been bound by chains for a long time; one cannot really move freely after their body has been worn away by the weight of the chains. Feeling light is euphoric, feeling empty is disconcerting. When your burden has been part of you, emptiness may follow after it is lifted. This is the rationalization of what one may think when refusing to surrender their passions to the will; the second part of this slavery, which causes even greater strife between the flesh and spirit.

What is this vicious entrapment? What is it in us which causes us to cling to sin as if we need it, while all it does for us is cause pain and kill the spirit? What is it which causes one to say “I cannot,” as if he has no control over his own will? A man will not give up his burden for two reasons: cowardice and pride. A man may be afraid to surrender his sin, in fear of losing it or a part of himself, in facing reality, or in the pain of the process. This is the weak “I cannot,” that comes from a child who is afraid to jump off of the diving board. On the other hand, a man may refuse to surrender his sin because it is simply too difficult to give up, and because of that it is not worth it. This is the “I cannot” which comes from someone who is livid and being told to calm himself. This pride lies in the contentedness with the self while in a state of vice, the pride so rooted in our nature that it feels out of our control. Pride is not just conceit, it is rather any notion of independence from God, and it has plagued man since the Fall. All sin springs from pride. So, this is what causes man to cling to his burden. Though there is pain, clear destruction of the soul, and the alternative is beautiful, there is pride in it. Augustine writes of bearing his sin “with contentedness.” We bear our sins with enough contentedness that even if the pain is crippling we still hold on to them. And this is the nature with which we were born.

In one beautiful passage, Augustine talks about sin:

But how can sins of vice be against you, since you cannot be marred by perversion? How can sins of violence be against you, since nothing can injure you? Your punishments are for the sins which men commit against themselves, because although they sin against you, they do wrong to their own souls and their malice is self-betrayed. They corrupt and pervert their own nature, which you made and for which you shaped the rules, either by making wrong use of the things which you allow, or by becoming inflamed with passion to make unnatural use of things which you do not allow.

It is too often that I find myself contemplating my own vice, wallowing in guilt and feeling as if I am self-destructing, and then the next moment I turn around losing my temper and repeating these bad habits. How is it that we can know that our sin destroys our soul, feel the pain of it, and know living the Christian life is the highly preferable option, yet still fall back yet again? It is because we love our sin, and it is our natural disposition to do so.

A problem that I see in many modern teachings is that this whole idea of the flesh versus the spirit is taught in a very crude fashion. Often in the Evangelical church, you will hear things like “but with the strength of God, you can say no to weakness and say no to sin!” They will stress this notion concerning sexual immorality. The way it is said, it seems as if it’s reduced to triviality of avoiding the temptation of that second slice of cake. They make it seem like one must just have willpower in order to avoid sin. What does this lead to? I am inclined to say it leads to a sort of facade. It leads to an idea that one can be a good person simply by not feasting upon their sinful appetites. The problem is that sin is not this ‘thing’ floating around the aether making people do bad things. It is an inclination rooted deep in our nature, which one cannot simply “fend off”. For your entire life, your impulses will be at war with one another. Augustine understood this and writes of it:

In this warfare I was on both sides, but I took the part of that which I approved in myself rather than the part of that which I disapproved. For my true self was no longer on the side of which I disapproved, since to a great extent I was now its reluctant victim rather than its willing tool. Yet it was by my own will that I had reached the state in which I no longer wished to stay.

This is the burden that we ultimately bear, and it is an ongoing battle. Fortunately, though our sin lingers with us and we cling to it, our repentance is never in vain. The pride which drove Lucifer from Heaven and drove man to the Fall will always be in us, but it does not have to have reign over us. The burden of sin is great, but it shall not stay with us.

Studying History

Some students learning history may grow weary, as they delve into these studies that to them seems of no good use. It is the classic feeling of “When am I ever going to need this?”. If I wish to be a musician or an artist, an engineer or a doctor, why must I learn history now, O Magistre Magne? Really, history is a humanity which one learns not to assist them at their profession, but like literature, art and philosophy, to benefit the person learning. Not to mention that it is relevant, since you are living in it!

So, why do we study history?  Well, I would say, first, that we study history for the same reason we read stories. History is primarily that, a grand anthology of epic tales. Epic tales incite fantastic imagery and force one to comprehend things which are foreign to what he knows. He cannot go back in time, so he must imagine this world. In this way, history helps to cultivate the imagination. But it is not just the vivid imagery that gives purpose to our studies, but also the people which the stories are about. When we hear the great story of Cincinnatus, who defeated the Aequians while the Romans were disadvantaged in one day, and then declined the power offered to him so that he may return to his humble farm, we form a vision of this man as one of virtue, dignity, patriotism, and humility. When we read of what he did, there is something within us which says, “Yes, this is a good man.” It is the same when we read about heroes like Aeneas and Achilles, and even Samwise Gamgee from The Lord of the Rings. Seeing those who model virtue is enlightening to the soul, and cultivates the moral imagination. This can go in the other direction too, of course. You have figures in history who seem like pure evil, and they are usually described as decadent and self-indulgent. The vision of the evil is just as important as the vision of the good.

The nurturing of the moral imagination is the main part which I wish to emphasize. Aside from that, there is also great use in understanding the systems which were prevalent in the time. These may be social systems, political systems,  or relations between governments (war and diplomacy).  It is good to have an understanding of the institutions and interactions between men. History does repeat itself, and it is nice to know when it is happening.  Lastly, history will give you trivia. It is nice to have a knowledge of the little things, for the joy of conversation, and for the sake of making connections to other things. For example, with knowledge of Cincinnatus, one can know the origin of the name of Cincinnati, Ohio.

When we are learning history, we must be aware of the important elements. The stories come close to the top of the list, as discussed earlier. The people too, for the same reasons. The place gives a visual understanding and creates a setting for these stories. Observing the time periods allows one to study many different histories at once, as they are occurring at the same time. The place and time provide perspective. The interactions and big events which influence the rest of time are also important. The social dynamic of the sexes, the classes, and the religion of the time also give perspective and insight to these stories and people. After all, history is centered around man and his interactions over the course of many eras, so the time and place and the surroundings of the stories of the man are there mostly for context.

How does one study history? There are writings from or close to the time being studies, like histories, literature, plays, philosophy, and mythology which give one learning good insight into the times. There are the archeological things; artifacts of things people used every day, like bowls and shovels. The art and architecture, and also the biological findings, such as mummies, bones, and other remains. Much can be discovered through linguistic observance too. Relations between various peoples can be analysed based on the language, and other deductions may be made. Now, though there are many tools by which one may study, there are difficulties in doing so as well. There are many things within an old society which are destroyed and lost, hindering research. Different people may interpret the evidence differently, so you always face the problem of accuracy, and also, many writers of history have an agenda! In spite of this, the tall tales of history still stand their own.

The Story of Cincinnatus

This is the story of Lucius Quinctius Cincinnatus, a man who led the Roman victory over the Aequians, and was from then on upheld as a model for civic virtue.

Long ago, when Rome was young, and its conquests were not yet great, there was a people in the mountains of Latium, east of Rome. A primitive people called the Aequians, who the Romans had been fighting for a while, in effort to expand their territory. But at this time, about four hundred and fifty years before Christ, they had been in a time of peace. This was broken, however, when the Aequians started attacking the Roman farms. Messengers were sent to the Aequian king to complain of this injustice, but the king brushed them off. This incited anger for the Romans, so they engaged in battle.

This battle, which happened about four hundred and fifty-eight years before Christ, was fought on Algidus Mons, a place between the Roman Republic and Aequi. The Battle of Mons Algidus was the battle in which Cincinnatus would win for Rome, and gain his legacy.
At the beginning of this battle, Rome was led by consul Minucius, and was easily pulling ahead. So the Aequians retreated. The Roman’s followed them not realizing their deceit, and ended up in a valley, barricaded on all sides and trapped by the Aequian armies. It was only a matter of time until all of their resources would be spent, as would be they. But very fortunately, a few men managed to escape and ride as fast as they could back to Rome to inform of the emergency. They then proposed to the Senate that the man Cincinnatus be made dictator. In the republic, dictators were elected in times of emergency.

Cincinnatus was a man who lived on a small, humble farm, but was also born into a noble family. He was known for being a great warrior since he had won many battles for Rome. He served as consul for a time, and was made dictator in this emergency. On top of that he was also famous for his beautiful curly tresses, which did give him his name.

When he was called to this duty, he gathered a new army, of all of the capable men and boys he could get and warned them to be armed and ready to help Minucius and his army. He then led the army into the place of battle. They reached it at the time of dawn, to the Alban Hills, where the army was trapped, and formed a line around the Aequians. They fought and gained the Aequians’ surrender. Cincinnatus did grant mercy to the Aequians and spared them, but instead had them walk under the yolk. He set up the two spears with a third resting on the top, and had each and every man of the Aequian army surrender their arms, and bend under the yolk as the Romans jeered at them and humiliated them. This was a great violation of the Aequians’ honor, and many preferred to die rather than be so humiliated. By these means, Cincinnatus conquered the Aequians, and they were made humble in front of Rome.

When the victory was won, he was praised by his army and by the Roman people, and they wished to grant him the crown. But he humbly declined the throne and did not accept the glory, and after all things went back to his home on the little farm and resided there. Cincinnatus was lauded for his civic virtue; his loyalty to his country, his readiness to do anything for Rome, but also his humility, not lusting for power or even accepting it.

The End.

“A History of Rome”Outline

Here they are if you wish to view them.

Part I

Part II