We gritted our teeth and got on with it. That was the way to behave. No giving way to tears in public. No flinching at the prospect of mind-numbing duties. No self-indulgent avoidance of distasteful routines. And now? We are sensitive souls, aware of our weaknesses, aware too that medication may be the answer. We have found better things to do with our teeth than gritting them.
There is a name for what we have rejected: Stoicism. There is a name for what has taken its place: Epicureanism. The exchange has not been a matter of calculation; a drift has taken place without anybody voting for it.
Stoicism is not of course an English invention, though it was taken to heart by the Victorians and added a particular emphasis to the 19th century English version of Christianity. In the class-room boys learned their Greek and Latin. In the open air they learned to practise restraint rather than gloating exultation when they did well in a ball-game.
When under pressure a stiff upper-lip was the rule. When grief came, it was to be met with dignity and firmness of purpose. However crumpled and inadequate we might feel, we had to brace ourselves and, for the sake of others as much as for our own well-being, do what needed to be done. That was how an English gentleman (and with even more reticence a lady) behaved.
There is of course a swirl of emotions in this, beautifully captured in Edward Lucie-Smith’s poem ‘The Lesson’: ‘I still remember how the noise was stilled In school-assembly when my grief came in…’
Ever since Zeno put Stoicism on the map it has never quite disappeared. It has found favour with some generations more than others. It has attracted men and women of integrity who find metaphysical belief hard to come by. Steadfast and reasonable, persevering and indomitable, Zeno’s followers have benefited from an input of steel into character. Stoicism continues to shape our view of responsible human behaviour even if we never mention its name.
However, Stoicism does not have a monopoly of available virtues. There are other beliefs that favour perseverance, grim or gritty as it may be. Christians believe it is necessarily linked with the grace of God. See Philippians 3.13,14. And, going by the name of fortitude it is one of the traditional seven virtues by which we Christians measure our behaviour.
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