More on the Virtues and the Elements
Aug. 31st, 2023 07:15 amYesterday I shared a particular assignment of the classical virtues to the Four Elements, viz:
Wisdom-- Water Element-- Winter-- Kidneys-- Salty-- Blue-- Vice:Fear Mercury
This system of correspondences allows a Taoist adept, or a TCM practitioner, both to cultivate particular states of consciousness in themselves and even to treat disease in their patients. For example, a client suffering from a lung condition might be found to have been attacked by an excess of grief. This can be treated by a qigong exercise which at once opens the chest and activates the muscles along the lung meridian, while the patient visualizes inhaling healing white light into the lungs and exhaling smoky gray light containing grief and sorrow. This can be combined with acupuncture and massage focusing on the lung points, and regularly taking pungent herbs in soup and tea.
Such systems of correspondences are not arbitrary, but they also aren't universal. It's neither one right way, nor anything goes. To give an example, the season of Winter may be plausibly assigned to the element of Water or Earth, as both are slow, heavy, and cold. It makes rather less sense to assign Winter to Air-- unless, perhaps, you live in a part of the world in which Winter is marked by wind storms. It makes very little sense at all to assign the element of Fire to the Winter season-- unless you're using the elements in a different way, which I'll discuss in a moment.
Personal Elements
The arrangement of the elements that I provided yesterday is personal to me, as I said, but I want to talk a little about why this is so.
The virtue of Courage is defined by Plato in the Laws as a knowledge of divine goodness that sustains us through every danger, and also through every pleasure. He is also at pains in the Laws to point out that Courage is the first and lowest of the virtues-- although it holds together cities like Sparta and Crete, it is insufficient to elevate the soul to the higher worlds. Aristotle, meanwhile, points out in Nichomachaean Ethics that Courage is not the opposite of cowardice, but a mean between cowardice and rashness. For Aristotle as for Plato, all of the virtues are means, with vices of excess and deficiency on either side.
Now, when I consider the virtue of Courage, I find that I am not lacking in the ability to face danger. Not that I throw myself into dangerous situations on purpose-- not these days, anyway-- but I have on a number of occasions had the opportunity to face physical danger and death, and acted in a way that I felt was appropriate.
On the other hand, one of my greatest vices is my inability to see projects all the way through. My harddrive is full of half-written novels, but no finished ones. I can read Spanish and Latin at a child's level (Iulia puella parva est); I can identify 1 or 200 words in Chinese and write the corresponding characters. I know the guitar well enough to play in a punk band, provided none of my bandmates is older than 16. I have a similar degree of proficiency in the dao or Chinese broadsword, and less in the jian, the Chinese straight sword. I recently acquired a bata, or Irish fighting stick, and if my pattern holds, in a year I'll know it well enough to fight an unarmed civilian.
What's the point of all this self-effacement?
Only the following: When it comes to assigning an element to Courage, I ask myself: "What is it that I need in order to cultivate the virtue?" For me, the answer is stability and endurance. Of all the elements, Earth represents this most strongly-- to my mind at any rate. And so I assign the virtue of Courage to the element of Earth, which is to say, I ask the powers of Earth for help in developing Courage.
But that doesn't mean this is a universal assignment. If I had no problem with stick-to-it-iveness, but I was terrified of physical danger, I might invoke Fire for Courage, as I might find its burning strength a great help in facing my fears. If, on the other hand, my issue was one of rashness-- that is, an excessive love of danger for its own sake-- I might invoke the calming power of Water. Finally, if I simply needed help getting started on my projects or adventures, I might invoke Air.
And I repeat the process with the remaining virtues.
Justice is defined as a right relationship between things. Plato describes it in the Republic as every part of the soul performing its own correct task; Aristotle defines it in the Ethics as giving everything what is due to it. I personally, usually, invoke Water to cultivate Justice. The reason for this is that Water is binding, unifying, and giving. I have a tendency toward selfishness and an equal tendency to be temperamental; these things stand in the way of giving to others what is due to them, whether a tip at a restaurant or a kind word on the street, and in the way of proper relationships with the people in my life, who often need my love rather than irritation or sarcasm.
Wisdom is described by Plato in the Phaedo as a separation of the soul from the body, and contact with the higher reality of the spiritual world. To my mind Air perfectly symbolizes this idea, as Air is the element of the sky (which is the symbol of the Noetic world), the mind, and Form.
Temperance, finally, means self-control, and for me this is symbolized by Fire, which is above all the element of power. Real power is power over the self, especially the lower self and its cravings.
In order to cultivate these virtues, I often say the following prayer, especially in the morning:
May I take up my hammer to work,
May I take up my cup to give,
May I take up my book to learn,
May I take up my sword and live.
The hammer symbolizes the gnomes who labor in the north; the cup is the cauldron of life; the book is the wisdom of philosophy and nature; the sword is my personal symbol of success and self-mastery.
External Elements, and Other Arrangements
In a sense, this way of working with the elements is a form of medicine, taylored to the individual. When designing a system of magic or initiation, it seems that it is often more important to choose a more universal arrangement.
It seems to me that a more universal Druidic arrangement might look like this:
Earth: Courage
Water: Wisdom
Air: Justice
Fire: Temperance
This again draws on Plato's Laws, which describes Courage as the first and lowest of the virtues, and Justice as a mean between Wisdom and Temperance. Water has straightforward associations with wisdom in Celtic lore, in the form of the Salmon of Wisdom who dwells in the sacred well. The animal associated with Justice is the Hawk of May, whose name, "Gwalchmai," is the Welsh form of Gawain, who was in the oldest tales one of the most important of Arthur's knights; his encounter with the Green Knight is itself a lesson in Justice. Temperance, finally, is assigned to Fire. In ordinary American English the word "temperance," if it's used at all, means something like "Not getting drunk," and maybe also "...and keep it in your pants, too." Its original meaning in Greek, dikaiosune, means "self-mastery." This is the final virtue, as Fire is the highest of the elements.
The following arrangement works equally well:
Earth: Justice
Water: Temperance
Fire: Courage
Air: Wisdom
This arrangement follows the assignment of the virtues to the parts of the human soul, and the parts of the soul to energy centers in the body, in Plato's Republic. To the abdomen, which is called the "lower dantien" in Chinese internal alchemy and the lower cauldron in the Dolmen Arch system, corresponds the Epithymia, which is the lowest part of the soul, the appetites for food and reproduction that we share in common with every animal. To this center corresponds the element of Water. The proper virtue here is Temperance, as Temperance is control over the appetites and the re-direction of the generative power of the lower cauldron toward productive ends. To the heart, which is called the middle dantien or middle cauldron, corresponds the Thymos, and the element of Fire. The Thymos is the seat of the social emotions, and here the proper virtue is Courage, which compels a warrior to stand with his comrades on the battle-field. The head, which is the upper dantien or cauldron, is the seat of the Nous, and the element of Air. The Nous is the reasoning mind, and also the part of the mind that extends beyond ordinary reason and is capable of direct contact with the higher worlds. Only the Nous can attain the virtue of Wisdom.
Finally, Justice is the unity of all three parts of the soul, and their performance of their proper function, under the command of the Nous. United, the soul functions as a microcosm of the whole world, and thus the element of Earth is associated with the body as a united whole, and also has special reference to the lower body as it conveys the upper body through the material world.
Ladders of Virtue
The later Neoplatonists assigned multiple definitions to each of the four virtues. These definitions then corresponded to the highest form of that virtue a person could achieve, depending upon their particular station in life. The virtues were arranged into hierarchies. In the writings of Plotinus, the virtues exist at two levels, the political and the purificatory. The political virtues are given the definitions of Plato's Republic and Laws; their cultivation allows us to exist together in society. But having established himself in the political virtues, the philosopher then cultivates the purificatory virtues, based on Plato's Phaedo, which aim at the union of the soul with God. This simple twofold hierarchy of virtue was then elaborated into four by Porphyry and seven by Iamblichus.
It seems to me that a Druidical take on this system would work by assigning the elements to the virtues in different ways at different degrees of initiation. Perhaps one assignment exists at the first degree, another at the second, but at the third, the initiate must discover his own set of correspondences. There is much to think about here.
Earth: Courage
Water: Justice
Air: Wisdom
Water: Justice
Air: Wisdom
Fire: Temperance
In the comments section, JPRussel mentioned that this differs from the assignment given to the elements in the Dolmen Arch system.
I wanted to share, first, why I assign the elements in this fashion, and, second, some alternatives.
Systems of Correspondence
Structures like this one are called "systems of correspondence." They are universal in magical systems, and, in fact, in traditional systems of learning in general. The Cabala itelf is little more than one vast system of correspondences-- I believe it was Israel Regardie that referred to the whole system as a "filing cabinet." The point of such systems is to allow one to immediately contact particular states of consciousness, and thereby to produce particular modes of change.
Again, these systems are not limited to magic, but occur in pre- and non-modern modes of thinking in general. For example, as Western culture has its seven traditional virtues, and Helleniuc culture its four, traditional Chinese culture has five. It's actually not very easy to translate these into English, but, roughly speaking, they amount to: Benevolence, Righteousness, Propriety, Wisdom, and Faithfulness. (Notice, as an aside, that these are different from the four virtues of Plato, and that cultivating these five, rather than our four or seven, produces a different sort of virtuous person. This is a clue to the deeper meaning of cultural difference.)
In Taoist philosophy and Traditional Chinese Medicine, these five virtues have the following correspondences:
I wanted to share, first, why I assign the elements in this fashion, and, second, some alternatives.
Systems of Correspondence
Structures like this one are called "systems of correspondence." They are universal in magical systems, and, in fact, in traditional systems of learning in general. The Cabala itelf is little more than one vast system of correspondences-- I believe it was Israel Regardie that referred to the whole system as a "filing cabinet." The point of such systems is to allow one to immediately contact particular states of consciousness, and thereby to produce particular modes of change.
Again, these systems are not limited to magic, but occur in pre- and non-modern modes of thinking in general. For example, as Western culture has its seven traditional virtues, and Helleniuc culture its four, traditional Chinese culture has five. It's actually not very easy to translate these into English, but, roughly speaking, they amount to: Benevolence, Righteousness, Propriety, Wisdom, and Faithfulness. (Notice, as an aside, that these are different from the four virtues of Plato, and that cultivating these five, rather than our four or seven, produces a different sort of virtuous person. This is a clue to the deeper meaning of cultural difference.)
In Taoist philosophy and Traditional Chinese Medicine, these five virtues have the following correspondences:
Benevolence-- Wood Element-- Liver-- Sour-- Springtime-- Green-- Vice:Anger Jupiter
Propriety-- Fire Element-- Heart-- Summer-- Bitter-- Red-- Vice:Excitement Mars
Faithfulness-- Earth Element-- Spleen-- Present or Late Summer-- Yellow-- Vice:Anxiety Sweet-- Saturn
Righteousness-- Metal Element-- Lungs-- Autumn-- Pungent-- White-- Vice:Grief Venus
Propriety-- Fire Element-- Heart-- Summer-- Bitter-- Red-- Vice:Excitement Mars
Faithfulness-- Earth Element-- Spleen-- Present or Late Summer-- Yellow-- Vice:Anxiety Sweet-- Saturn
Righteousness-- Metal Element-- Lungs-- Autumn-- Pungent-- White-- Vice:Grief Venus
Wisdom-- Water Element-- Winter-- Kidneys-- Salty-- Blue-- Vice:Fear Mercury
Such systems of correspondences are not arbitrary, but they also aren't universal. It's neither one right way, nor anything goes. To give an example, the season of Winter may be plausibly assigned to the element of Water or Earth, as both are slow, heavy, and cold. It makes rather less sense to assign Winter to Air-- unless, perhaps, you live in a part of the world in which Winter is marked by wind storms. It makes very little sense at all to assign the element of Fire to the Winter season-- unless you're using the elements in a different way, which I'll discuss in a moment.
Personal Elements
The arrangement of the elements that I provided yesterday is personal to me, as I said, but I want to talk a little about why this is so.
The virtue of Courage is defined by Plato in the Laws as a knowledge of divine goodness that sustains us through every danger, and also through every pleasure. He is also at pains in the Laws to point out that Courage is the first and lowest of the virtues-- although it holds together cities like Sparta and Crete, it is insufficient to elevate the soul to the higher worlds. Aristotle, meanwhile, points out in Nichomachaean Ethics that Courage is not the opposite of cowardice, but a mean between cowardice and rashness. For Aristotle as for Plato, all of the virtues are means, with vices of excess and deficiency on either side.
Now, when I consider the virtue of Courage, I find that I am not lacking in the ability to face danger. Not that I throw myself into dangerous situations on purpose-- not these days, anyway-- but I have on a number of occasions had the opportunity to face physical danger and death, and acted in a way that I felt was appropriate.
On the other hand, one of my greatest vices is my inability to see projects all the way through. My harddrive is full of half-written novels, but no finished ones. I can read Spanish and Latin at a child's level (Iulia puella parva est); I can identify 1 or 200 words in Chinese and write the corresponding characters. I know the guitar well enough to play in a punk band, provided none of my bandmates is older than 16. I have a similar degree of proficiency in the dao or Chinese broadsword, and less in the jian, the Chinese straight sword. I recently acquired a bata, or Irish fighting stick, and if my pattern holds, in a year I'll know it well enough to fight an unarmed civilian.
What's the point of all this self-effacement?
Only the following: When it comes to assigning an element to Courage, I ask myself: "What is it that I need in order to cultivate the virtue?" For me, the answer is stability and endurance. Of all the elements, Earth represents this most strongly-- to my mind at any rate. And so I assign the virtue of Courage to the element of Earth, which is to say, I ask the powers of Earth for help in developing Courage.
But that doesn't mean this is a universal assignment. If I had no problem with stick-to-it-iveness, but I was terrified of physical danger, I might invoke Fire for Courage, as I might find its burning strength a great help in facing my fears. If, on the other hand, my issue was one of rashness-- that is, an excessive love of danger for its own sake-- I might invoke the calming power of Water. Finally, if I simply needed help getting started on my projects or adventures, I might invoke Air.
And I repeat the process with the remaining virtues.
Justice is defined as a right relationship between things. Plato describes it in the Republic as every part of the soul performing its own correct task; Aristotle defines it in the Ethics as giving everything what is due to it. I personally, usually, invoke Water to cultivate Justice. The reason for this is that Water is binding, unifying, and giving. I have a tendency toward selfishness and an equal tendency to be temperamental; these things stand in the way of giving to others what is due to them, whether a tip at a restaurant or a kind word on the street, and in the way of proper relationships with the people in my life, who often need my love rather than irritation or sarcasm.
Wisdom is described by Plato in the Phaedo as a separation of the soul from the body, and contact with the higher reality of the spiritual world. To my mind Air perfectly symbolizes this idea, as Air is the element of the sky (which is the symbol of the Noetic world), the mind, and Form.
Temperance, finally, means self-control, and for me this is symbolized by Fire, which is above all the element of power. Real power is power over the self, especially the lower self and its cravings.
In order to cultivate these virtues, I often say the following prayer, especially in the morning:
May I take up my hammer to work,
May I take up my cup to give,
May I take up my book to learn,
May I take up my sword and live.
The hammer symbolizes the gnomes who labor in the north; the cup is the cauldron of life; the book is the wisdom of philosophy and nature; the sword is my personal symbol of success and self-mastery.
External Elements, and Other Arrangements
In a sense, this way of working with the elements is a form of medicine, taylored to the individual. When designing a system of magic or initiation, it seems that it is often more important to choose a more universal arrangement.
It seems to me that a more universal Druidic arrangement might look like this:
Earth: Courage
Water: Wisdom
Air: Justice
Fire: Temperance
This again draws on Plato's Laws, which describes Courage as the first and lowest of the virtues, and Justice as a mean between Wisdom and Temperance. Water has straightforward associations with wisdom in Celtic lore, in the form of the Salmon of Wisdom who dwells in the sacred well. The animal associated with Justice is the Hawk of May, whose name, "Gwalchmai," is the Welsh form of Gawain, who was in the oldest tales one of the most important of Arthur's knights; his encounter with the Green Knight is itself a lesson in Justice. Temperance, finally, is assigned to Fire. In ordinary American English the word "temperance," if it's used at all, means something like "Not getting drunk," and maybe also "...and keep it in your pants, too." Its original meaning in Greek, dikaiosune, means "self-mastery." This is the final virtue, as Fire is the highest of the elements.
The following arrangement works equally well:
Earth: Justice
Water: Temperance
Fire: Courage
Air: Wisdom
This arrangement follows the assignment of the virtues to the parts of the human soul, and the parts of the soul to energy centers in the body, in Plato's Republic. To the abdomen, which is called the "lower dantien" in Chinese internal alchemy and the lower cauldron in the Dolmen Arch system, corresponds the Epithymia, which is the lowest part of the soul, the appetites for food and reproduction that we share in common with every animal. To this center corresponds the element of Water. The proper virtue here is Temperance, as Temperance is control over the appetites and the re-direction of the generative power of the lower cauldron toward productive ends. To the heart, which is called the middle dantien or middle cauldron, corresponds the Thymos, and the element of Fire. The Thymos is the seat of the social emotions, and here the proper virtue is Courage, which compels a warrior to stand with his comrades on the battle-field. The head, which is the upper dantien or cauldron, is the seat of the Nous, and the element of Air. The Nous is the reasoning mind, and also the part of the mind that extends beyond ordinary reason and is capable of direct contact with the higher worlds. Only the Nous can attain the virtue of Wisdom.
Finally, Justice is the unity of all three parts of the soul, and their performance of their proper function, under the command of the Nous. United, the soul functions as a microcosm of the whole world, and thus the element of Earth is associated with the body as a united whole, and also has special reference to the lower body as it conveys the upper body through the material world.
Ladders of Virtue
The later Neoplatonists assigned multiple definitions to each of the four virtues. These definitions then corresponded to the highest form of that virtue a person could achieve, depending upon their particular station in life. The virtues were arranged into hierarchies. In the writings of Plotinus, the virtues exist at two levels, the political and the purificatory. The political virtues are given the definitions of Plato's Republic and Laws; their cultivation allows us to exist together in society. But having established himself in the political virtues, the philosopher then cultivates the purificatory virtues, based on Plato's Phaedo, which aim at the union of the soul with God. This simple twofold hierarchy of virtue was then elaborated into four by Porphyry and seven by Iamblichus.
It seems to me that a Druidical take on this system would work by assigning the elements to the virtues in different ways at different degrees of initiation. Perhaps one assignment exists at the first degree, another at the second, but at the third, the initiate must discover his own set of correspondences. There is much to think about here.