Yes; and I almost think those posts should be moved out of this thread into their own, but I'll leave that up to you.
Ok Will do. I did already set up a separate thread on John Tyndall.
EDIT: Rather than move to a new thread I just deleted most of my comments, which were the ones that were really over the line. It's highly unlikely we need to discuss the War Between The States here any further than we already have, or might in the future, other than as Frances Wright's pre-war comments might be of interest. Too little to be gained and too much danger to go into that unless we find some figure who specifically discusses Epicurus.
As for Caldwell let's just focus on Caldwell's philosophical views and if we find enough there to talk about we can create a separate thread just on him.
The point of this thread is to "identify Epicurean figures of the past," and that's another limitation as to Caldwell -- if he was just commenting briefly he probably merits more the "general discussion" group anyway.
This strikes me as hugely important—is there something about the Epicurean conception of justice (as not morally absolute) that appeals to the slaveholder, but repulses the abolitionist?
I think that comment deserves a reply, just not the one I gave it before I moderated myself
I think that regardless of the specifics of the context in which Caldwell was involved, the American Civil War, it is widely true is that the Epicurean concept of justice is always going to appeal to the minority, to the dissenter, to the rebel --- to basically everyone who finds himself or herself in a minority position.
If we happen to find ourselves part of the majority and the establishment, then we like to think that such is the natural order of things, and we tend toward Platonism or Stoicism.
People who find themselves "on the outs" from society are always going to be searching for answers to questions about whether the views of the majority are "right" and "just" for some cosmic reason, or simply because the majority is numerically stronger.
Every time we get tempted to let our emotions pull us in the direction of thinking that one moral position or another is so compelling that it "ought" to be universally received, we've got to remember - I think - that the nature of the cosmos in the Epicurean worldview is that such absolute standards of authority don't exist. We can and we should act as vigorously as possible to see that we surround ourselves with things and relationships that please us, and we separate ourselves from things and relationships that cause us pain, so we get involved where it is reasonable to do so and we fight to defend what we think is just. But we shouldn't make the mistake of thinking that there is any absolute universal law or absolute justice that is behind our decision. Presumably across the species pain and pleasure does spring from a common background and we can expect that we aren't the only ones who measure pain and pleasure as we do, but I think it's fair to say that human experience is very wide on that score, and we have to expect that there are lots of people who disagree with us in most facets of life.
I think the bottom line is that no matter how much we may want there to be some cosmic force that writes our conception of justice and enforces it, Epicurus would say that such a cosmic force doesn't exist. That's true in the case of your question for both the slaveholders who thought god was on their side and the abolitionists who thought god was on their side. But we could also pick any other age and context and dispute, no matter how hotly contested, and analyze it in the same way.
I think something like that is the ultimate philosophic lesson. Whether we are part of the "in crowd" or the "out crowd" is not the determining factor - there's no fate and no human necessity. But that circumstance likely influences who it is who finds themselves motivated to study Epicurus and other views that justify "outsiders" and non-conformists, and who it is who stays closer to home and to "establishment" views like for example the Stoics.
The Epicurean view of justice is still something I wrestle with (and I mean to get back to our previous thread... at some point in the future). Probably because we are inculcated from culture, tradition, etc., that there IS some over-arching, absolute authority from which our "rights" come - whether that be from a conservative/right view or a liberal/left view. Even the UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights - lofty as it is - one has to ask by what authority these rights are imposed, protected, and enforced. Grappling with Epicurus's contractual nature of justice is not easy. Intellectually, it makes sense. Accepting it... that's another kettle of fish.
Grappling with Epicurus's contractual nature of justice is not easy. Intellectually, it makes sense.
And I am not even sure that "contractual nature of justice" really conveys his views accurately either. I can see how it can be interpreted that way, and he does talk about agreement being involved. But when a particular agreement can at one moment be just but another moment become unjust (due to a change in circumstances) then it isn't just a simple question of "Did you make the agreement?" And "Did you break it?" (which I think is the way we tend to think of contract law.)
Justice is definitely one of the more difficult doctrines for us to understand, but I agree with Don that the problem is that our cultural attachment to contract and the idea of absolute right and wrong is so great today. Quite possibly if we looked at this from the perspective of a "family," (or at least friends) where we don't view agreements so formally and we release people from agreements easily, we might find it easier to understand Epicurus.
Because remembering PD39 he is saying that we try to make people into one family (or friends? Depending on the Greek) and for those who can't be made that successfully we to an extent separate from them. Maybe this is another situation like gods where he is stating that the common definition of the word needs to be understood differently.
So maybe we ought to be thinking about PD39 when we discuss the justice doctrines.
Because remembering PD39 he is saying that we try to make people into one family (or friends? Depending on the Greek)
It doesn't appear PD39 is even that clear cut. Several translators have taken the "things" approach and talk more about circumstances:
“The man who has made the best arrangements for the confdence about external
threats is he who has made the manageable things akin to himself, and has at least
made the unmanageable things not alien to himself. But he avoided all contact with
things for which not even this could be managed and he drove out of his life everything
which it profted him to drive out.” Inwood & Gerson (1994)
“The person who has put together the best means for confdence about external
threats is one who has become familiar with what is possible and at least not unfamiliar
with what is not possible, but who has not mixed with things where even this could not
be managed and who has driven away anything that is not advantageous.” Saint-Andre
“The person who is the most successful in controlling the disturbing elements that
come from the outside world has assimilated to himself what he could, and what he
could not assimilate he has at least not alienated. Where he could not do even this, he
has dissociated himself or eliminated all that it was expedient to treat in this way.”
Thanks again to Nathan for his list!!
Very interesting - I was not aware of those takes. This is probably going to be one of those situations then where I think it is best to read everything together as if the doctrine numbers did not exist. A "things" approach would make sense too but I am going to bet that the closing paragraphs of the document were probably directed at relationships to other "people" for lots of reasons.
HA -- I want to say this for the record. Lately I am getting worried about saying "I was not aware." I am mostly joking and I don't think there is really anything wrong with my memory but with the forum software available I am getting to think I need to do a search here every time I get ready to write "I am not aware" or anything like that, because I bet in a good number of cases i I did the search I would find myself talking about the very subject a few years ago! I am sure no one else has that problem but we're going to need to be tolerant of each other on that score.
It happens at any age but more often the older we get. Upon discussing a specific topic with a fellow student in 1989, we noticed only at the end of the discussion that we already had a similar discussion a year before.
Charles Lamb; Motes in the Sunbeams; 1775-1834; a poem referencing a well-known passage in Lucretius.
I am doggedly pursuing a poem that I remember from college but cannot find; during the chase I stumbled on this, which is mildly interesting:Quote
The motes up and down in the sun
Ever restlessly moving we see;
Whereas the great mountains stand still,
Unless terrible earthquakes there be.
If these atoms that move up and down
Were as useful as restless they are,
Than a mountain I rather would be
A mote in the sunbeam so fair.
There's a long-standing tradition in British literature on the comparison of value between 'use' and 'beauty'. This seems to me a very muddled take on the matter.
Now, back into the salt mine!
Maybe! The problem is I remember so little--only the rough outline of a passing vignette...
-That it was a poem (rough start, I know!)
-The poem was written by a British man.
-And was written in the Victorian period or earlier.
-The speaker of the poem is intoxicated, possibly by opium or laudanum, or maybe by absinthe or wine. In any case, there's delirium.
-The speaker meets an 'exotic' man, and tries to speak to him.
-When English fails, the speaker switches to ancient Greek, possibly by recitating a few lines from Homer.
That's all I've got! I thought it was Thomas de Quincey (1785-1859), who wrote Confessions of an English Opium Eater, but he was an essayist. His Greek, however, was very good.Quote
[I] was very early distinguished for my classical attainments, especially for my knowledge of Greek. At thirteen, I wrote Greek with ease; and at fifteen my command of that language was so great, that I not only composed Greek verses in lyric metres, but could converse in Greek fluently, and without embarrassment-- an accomplishment which I have not since met with in any scholar of my times, and which, in my case, was owing to the practice of daily reading off the newspapers into the best Greek I could furnish extempore: for the necessity of ransacking my memory and invention, for all sorts and combinations of periphrastic expressions, as equivalents for modern ideas, images, relations of thing, &c. gave me a compass of diction which would never have been called out by a dull translation of moral essays, &c. "That boy," said one of my masters*, pointing the attention of a stranger to me, "that boy could harangue an Athenian mob, better than you or I could address an English one."