Démocrite et Héraclite
The Philosophers' Divergent Views
Democritus and Heraclitus introduce their opposing temperaments of laughter and tears regarding the state of the world.
A comparison between Democritus and Heraclitus, in which the latter is favored as being more human. Democritus. I couldn't put up with a gloomy philosophy. Heraclitus. — Nor I for a cheerful one.1 When you're wise, you see nothing in the world that doesn't look crooked and displeasing.2 Democritus. You're taking things way too seriously; that's going to hurt you. Heraclitus. — You take them with too much playfulness; your mocking look is more a satyr's than a philosopher's. Aren't you at all moved to see the human race so blind, so corrupt, and so lost? Democritus. — I'm far more moved to see it so impertinent and so ridiculous.3
The Ethics of Compassion
Heraclitus challenges Democritus to see the human race as a part of himself, arguing that mockery is a failure of love and mercy.
Heraclitus. But after all, the human race you're laughing at is the entire world you live in; it's the company of your friends, your family, and you yourself. Democritus. I don't care much about all the fools I see, and I consider myself wise by mocking them. Heraclitus. — If they're fools, you're hardly wise or good for not pitying them and for insulting their folly. Besides, who can guarantee that you aren't just as extravagant as they are? Democritus. — I can't be, thinking in everything the opposite of what they think.4 Heraclitus. There are different kinds of foolishness. Perhaps by always contradicting other people's foolishness, you throw yourself into the opposite extreme, which is just as foolish. Democritus. Believe whatever you like; and keep weeping over me too, if you have any tears left. As for me, I’m content to laugh at fools. Aren't all people fools?5 Answer me. Heraclitus. — Alas! They’re only too much so; that’s what grieves me. You and I agree on this: people don’t follow reason. But I, who don’t want to act as they do, want to follow reason, which compels me to love them; and that love fills me with compassion for their wanderings. Am I wrong to pity my fellow human beings, my brothers—what is, so to speak, a part of myself? If you walked into a hospital for the wounded, would you laugh at the sight of their injuries? Physical wounds are nothing compared with those of the soul. You’d be ashamed of your cruelty if you laughed at some wretched man with a leg cut off, and yet you have the inhumanity to mock the whole world for having lost its reason. Democritus. Someone who has lost a leg deserves pity, because they didn't cut the limb off themselves; but someone who loses their reason loses it through their own fault. Heraclitus. Ah! That's exactly why he's more to be pitied. A madman in a frenzy who tore his own eyes out would be even more deserving of compassion than another blind man.
The Final Synthesis
The philosophers agree that the world is fundamentally flawed, but Heraclitus maintains that true wisdom requires love rather than detached mockery.
Democritus. Let's meet halfway; there's enough reason to justify both of us. Everywhere, there's something to laugh at and something to cry over. The world is ridiculous, and I laugh at it. It's deplorable, and you weep over it. Everyone looks at it in their own way, and according to their temperament. What's certain is that the world is all wrong.6 To act well and think well, you have to act and think differently from the great majority; taking your rule from the authority and example of ordinary people is the lot of fools. Heraclitus. That’s all true; but you don’t love anything, and you take delight in other people’s misfortune. That isn't loving people, nor is it loving the virtue they’ve abandoned.
Read the original Latin
Comparaison de Démocrite et d’Héraclite, où l’on donne l’avantage au dernier comme plus humain.
Démocrite. — Je ne saurais m’accommoder d’une philosophie triste.
Héraclite. — Ni moi d’une gaie. Quand on est sage, on ne voit rien dans le monde qui ne paraisse de travers et qui ne déplaise.
Démocrite. — Vous prenez les choses d’un trop grand sérieux : cela vous fera mal.
Héraclite. — Vous les prenez avec trop d’enjouement ; votre air moqueur est plutôt celui d’un satyre que d’un philosophe. N’êtes-vous point touché de voir le genre humain si aveugle, si corrompu, si égaré ?
Démocrite. — Je suis bien plus touché de le voir si impertinent et si ridicule.
Héraclite. — Mais enfin ce genre humain dont vous riez, c’est le monde entier avec qui vous vivez, c’est la société de vos amis, c’est votre famille, c’est vous-même.
Démocrite. — Je ne me soucie guère de tous les fous que je vois, et je me crois sage en me moquant d’eux.
Héraclite. — S’ils sont fous, vous n’êtes guère sage ni bon, de ne les plaindre pas et d’insulter à leur folie. D’ailleurs qui vous répond que vous ne soyez pas aussi extravagant qu’eux ?
Démocrite. — Je ne puis l’être, pensant en toutes choses le contraire de ce qu’ils pensent.
Héraclite. — Il y a des folies de diverse espèce. Peut-être qu’à force de contredire les folies des autres vous vous jetez dans une extrémité contraire, qui n’est pas moins folle.
Démocrite. — Croyez-en ce qu’il vous plaira ; et pleurez encore sur moi, si vous avez des larmes de reste : pour moi, je suis content de rire des fous. Tous les hommes ne le sont-ils pas ? Répondez.
Héraclite. — Hélas ! ils ne le sont que trop ; c’est ce qui m’afflige ; nous convenons vous et moi en ce point, que les hommes ne suivent point la raison. Mais moi, qui ne veux pas faire comme eux, je veux suivre la raison qui m’oblige de les aimer ; et cette amitié me remplit de compassion pour leurs égarements. Ai-je tort d’avoir pitié de mes semblables, de mes frères, de ce qui est, pour ainsi dire, une partie de moi-même ? Si vous entriez dans un hôpital de blessés, ririez-vous de voir leurs blessures ? Les plaies du corps ne sont rien en comparaison de celles de l’âme : vous auriez honte de votre cruauté, si vous aviez ri d’un malheureux qui a la jambe coupée ; et vous avez l’inhumanité de vous moquer du monde entier qui a perdu la raison.
Démocrite. — Celui qui a perdu une jambe est à plaindre, en ce qu’il ne s’est point ôté lui-même ce membre ; mais celui qui perd la raison la perd par sa faute.
Héraclite. — Hé ! c’est en quoi il est plus à plaindre. Un insensé furieux, qui s’arracherait lui-même les yeux, serait encore plus digne de compassion qu’un autre aveugle.
Démocrite. — Accommodons-nous ; il y a de quoi nous justifier tous deux. Il y a partout de quoi rire et de quoi pleurer. Le monde est ridicule, et j’en ris. Il est déplorable, et vous en pleurez. Chacun le regarde à sa mode, et suivant son tempérament. Ce qui est certain, c’est que le monde est de travers. Pour bien faire, pour bien penser, il faut faire, il faut penser autrement que le grand nombre : se régler par l’autorité et par l’exemple du commun des hommes, c’est le partage des sots.
Héraclite. — Tout cela est vrai ; mais vous n’aimez rien, et le mal d’autrui vous réjouit. C’est n’aimer ni les hommes ni la vertu qu’ils abandonnent.
Notes
- 1 ↩Elliptical reply to Democritus’s ‘Je ne saurais m’accommoder d’une philosophie triste’: supply ‘philosophy’ and the verb of accommodation; ‘gaie’ = cheerful/merry, not frivolous.
- 2 ↩‘de travers’ = askew/crooked/awry; kept as ‘crooked’ for the sense that nothing appears upright to the wise.
- 3 ↩French impertinent here carries classical-period force of insolent/presumptuous rather than mere irrelevance; kept as impertinent to preserve the satirical edge of Democritus's reply to Heraclitus on le genre humain.
- 4 ↩« l'être » points back to Héraclite's charge that Democritus may be as extravagant as those he mocks; rendered as 'be' (that way) without restating the antecedent.
- 5 ↩French 'le' is anaphoric to 'fous' in the previous sentence; rendered as 'fools' for clarity rather than bare 'Aren't all men that?'
- 6 ↩French 'de travers' means askew/awry/crooked; rendered as 'all wrong' for natural contemporary force while keeping the judgment that the world is misaligned.
Dialogues des morts, composés pour l'éducation de Mgr le Duc de Bourgogne companion
Rule yourself daily, not just on retreat
Chosen Portion turns the mirror into a daily practice — a short reading and examining question each morning before you lead anyone.
Chosen Portion makes the mirror daily: the ruler-formation questions this collection preserves become a two-minute morning examination in the app.
- A daily formation reading drawn from centuries of counsel to those in authority
- One pointed examination question a day — two minutes, before the meetings start
- Track your practice over weeks and watch the examined life become a habit