Austin Hall Library

Slow the Pace

One of the most significant shortcomings of modern life is anxiety created by feverish activity that does little to improve one's quality of life and much to ruin it. When life is feverishly lived, virtually everything we do is badly done, our mind is cluttered, and there is no leisure to reflect upon anything.

Often, those who sincerely long for a reflective and well-ordered life are at the same time deeply entrenched in a feverish life and strangely satisfied with their lot. They are intoxicated. They love the fever and they are concerned that to live in quietness would be akin to no longer living. Whether it is true or not that to live quietly would be like death to some, it is certain that a feverish life is disordered. It is bad for the health of the body, which simply wears out with overuse; it is bad for the health of the mind, which becomes incapable of deep reflection; it is bad for the soul, which no longer maintains its composure.

So, if you are anxious, uneasy, restless, nervous, apprehensive, or suffer from any other such modern  malady, don't seek to suppress such feelings with more feverish activity. Rather, slow the pace, learn to to say no, work on the discipline of small things, relish the gift of monotony, build a fire, pick up a book and reflect. 

Beware the Uncritical Adulation of Youth

Spurred on by a recent conversation and reading Richard Weaver, I have concluded that it is important these days to warn against the uncritical adulation of youth so prevalent in modern American culture. It must be seen as an abnormality that a culture of long history and significant complexity would defer to youth rather than to wisdom that only age can bring. Yet, it seems that American culture defers increasingly to the ideas, judgments, and whims of youth--often in the name of "identifying" with the modern young person, the objective value of which is often not readily identifiable.

As Weaver notes, "the virtues of youth are the virtues of freshness and vitality," which, as the years roll by, I more readily concede have a certain occasional attraction about them. But, it must be remembered that these "are not the virtues that fit one to be the custodian of the culture that society has produced." Deferring to youth is another way of weakening the continuity critically necessary to a stable civilization.

Young people see a great deal these days, in the sense of understanding what is present to their vision, but they perceive little, in the sense of correctly interpreting what they see. This is so because, as Weaver points out, young people lack the "memory traces" that lead to ideas and concepts, not to mention the fundamental maturity necessary to wisely select between alternative interpretations of reality. And, "the memoryless part of mankind cannot be the teachers of culture."

In short, the uncritical adulation of youth, in whatever form, has essentially nothing to commend it. Young people are just that--young. Their ideas, customs, judgments, and interpretations of the reality around them are most often wrong. If, on occasion, they should be right, it is not due to youth itself. Rather it is due to the fact that their ideas, customs, judgments, or interpretations--for one reason or another--happen to correspond to the ideas, customs, judgments, or interpretations of conceptual memory and mature age. Accidents do happen, but one ought not seek to preserve and perpetuate culture upon the accidents of youth, the error of which is akin to a mature person's attempting to preserve his/her youth through extraordinary means--ugly in the process and fruitless in the end.

Refusing to Look at Serious Things

As is often the case, I have been reflecting recently on the writings of Richard Weaver. It was Weaver who introduced me to a persuasive argument that Western culture is in decline. While one hears arguments on both sides these days; that is, that Western culture is seriously declining and Western culture is flourishing and improving, as Weaver notes, both arguments cannot be equally valid.

Weaver contends that the difference in the two opinions relate to the depth of implication drawn from large-scale tendencies of Western civilization that are being examined. He is of the mind that those who contend that things are going well enough or are improving are "found to be nonserious, in the sense of refusing to look at serious things."

Writing in the 1960s, Weaver said:

They (those who see the culture as improving) glean their data from the novel, or flashy, or transitory sort of development, which often indicates a sort of vitality, but shows at the same time a lack of direction and a purposelessness. Their data is likely to be the kind that can be quantified in the style of the social scientists or at least of the publicist--so many more people owning record players, so many more books circulating from public libraries, and the like. They ignore the deep sources of tendency which can very easily render nugatory any gains of the above kind. In short, their fact finding is superficial and simplistic, and their claims are made sometimes in strident tone which is itself a demerit to their cause.

According to Weaver, there can be no implication at all to draw from tendencies in Western culture unless one is willing to contemplate an order of human values. "The nature and proper end of man are central to any discussion not only of whether a certain culture is weakening, but also of whether such a culture is worth preserving."

I previously commented on Weaver's insights and sought to illustrate and highlight the modern nonserious approach here and here.

A Thought on the Relationship Between Intellect and Will

Reading Jacques Leclercq this morning I came upon the following quote: "It is one of the miseries of our human state that the intelligence sees good more easily than the will embraces it."

It is very often overlooked that the health of the mind depends upon seeing things as they really are. Seeing things as they really are depends, in some measure, on the health of the will. The health of the will depends upon the object of its love.

Intrinsic Evil in Time of War

A good friend forwarded this link yesterday. It is a recent short but thoughtful opinion piece from the Wall Street Journal. The author raises a few good questions and ultimately infers a sort of utilitarian ethic in the final paragraph of the article.

The use of arms in time of war and, particularly, the treatment of non-combatants, wounded soldiers, and prisoners must not produce evils and disorders graver than the evil to be eliminated. Rigorous conditions of moral legitimacy for acts done in wartime are necessary for any people to remain civilized and undeserving of condemnation.

Developing and Nurturing Intellectual Life

I have touched a bit on this before here and here. But, it is much on my mind these days when I have a moment to reflect, that most of our actions are inspired by motives or impulses of which we are unaware at the time of acting. Our conscious life is immersed in an intellectual and moral atmosphere which, unknown to us, makes up our frame of mind or way of thinking.

Thus, the conscious and directed growth of intellectual life calls for an intellectual atmosphere that develops intellectual affections. If one has no intellectual atmosphere that develops intellectual affections, one will still take action but it will be inspired by motives and impulses virtually unknown to, and consciously unformed by, the actor at the time of acting. In other words, who knows what guides the thinking of such a person? One can be sure that motives and impulses lead to action, but can never be sure that action will be the result of reason.

It is similar with religious life. To grow rightly, it calls for an atmosphere that develops religious  affections. Religiously motivated architecture with its stained glass, statues, beautifully ornate side chapels, high vaulted arches, stunning frescoes and mosaics, stations of the cross, and high altars are eloquent expressions of spiritual life, zeal, and religious affection. The absence of these, while not always the case, can be a reflection of the soul turned in on itself.