that wisdom consists in the knowledge of things divine and human; that
philosophy is such an exercise of the mind as produces wisdom; that
in this exercise consists the nature of virtue; and consequently,
that virtue is a term of extensive meaning, comprehending the right
employment of the mind in reasoning, in the study of nature, and in
morals. The wisdom of the Stoics is either progressive, through several
stages; or perfect, when every weakness if subdued, and every error
corrected, without the possibility of a relapse into folly, or vice, or
of being again enslaved by any passion, or afflicted by any calamity.
With Socrates and the Cynics, Zeno represented virtue as the only true
wisdom; but being disposed to extend the pursuits of his wise man into
the regions of speculation and science, he gave, after his usual manner,
a new signification to an old term, and comprehended the exercise of the
understanding in the search of truth, as well as the government of
the appetites and passions, under the general term, virtue. The great
importance of the united exercise of the intellectual and active
powers of the mind, are thus beautifully asserted by the philosophical
emperor:--"Let every one endeavor so to think and act, that his
contemplative and active faculties may at the same time be going on
towards perfection. His clear conceptions, and certain knowledge, will
then produce within him an entire confidence in himself, unperceived
perhaps by others, though not affectedly concealed, which will give a
simplicity and dignity to his character; for he will at all times be
able to judge, concerning the several objects which come before him,
what is their real nature, what place they hold in the universe, how
long they are by nature fitted to last, of what materials they are
composed, by whom they may be possessed, and who is able to bestow them,
or take them away." The sum of the definitions and rules given by
the Stoics concerning logic is this:--Logic is either rhetorical or
dialectic. Rhetorical logic is the art of reasoning and discoursing on
those subjects which require a diffuse kind of declamation. Dialectic is
the art of close argumentation in the form of disputation or dialogue.
The former resembles an open, the latter, a closed hand.--Rhetoric is
of three kinds, deliberative, judicial, and demonstrative. The dialectic
art is the instrument of knowledge, as it enables a man to distinguish
truth from error, and certainty from bare probability. This art
considers things as expressed by words, and words themselves. External
things are perceived by a certain impression, made either upon some
parts of the brain, or upon the percipient faculty, which may be called
an image, since it is impressed upon the mind, like the image of a seal
upon wax.
This image is commonly accompanied with a belief of the reality of the
thing perceived; but not necessarily, since it does not accompany
every image, but those only which are not attended with any evidence
of deception. Where only the image is perceived by itself, the thing
is apprehensible; where it is acknowledged and approved as the image
of some real thing, the impression is called apprehension, because the
object is apprehended by the mind as a body is grasped by the hand. Such
apprehension, if it will bear the examination of reason, is knowledge;
if it is not examined, it is mere opinion; if it will not bear this
examination, it is misapprehension. The senses, corrected by reason,
give a faithful report; not by affording a perfect apprehension of
the entire nature of things, but by leaving no room to doubt of their
reality. Nature has furnished us with these apprehensions, as the
elements of knowledge, whence further conceptions are raised in the
mind, and a way is opened for the investigations of reason. Some
images are sensible, or received immediately through the senses; others
rational, which are perceived only in the mind. These latter are called
notions, or ideas. Some images are probable, to which the mind assents
without hesitation; others improbable, to which it does not readily
assent; and others doubtful, where it is not entirely perceived, whether
they are true or false. True images are those which arise from things
really existing, and agree with them. False images, or phantasms, are
immediately derived from no real object. Images are apprehended
by immediate perception, through the senses, as when we see a man;
consequentially, by likeness, as when from a portrait we apprehend the
original; by composition, as when, by compounding a horse and man, we
acquire the image of a Centaur; by augmentation, as in the image of a
Cyclops; or by diminution, as in that of a pigmy. Judgment is employed
either in determining, concerning particular things, or concerning
general propositions. In judging of things we make use of some one of
our senses, as a common criterion or measure of apprehension, by which
we judge whether a thing is, or is not; or whether or not it exists
with certain properties; or we apply to the thing, concerning which a
judgment is to be formed, some artificial measure, as a balance, a rule,
etc., or we call in other peculiar measures to determine things not
perceptible by the senses. In judging of general propositions, we make
use of our pre-conceptions, or universal principles, as _criteria_, or
measures of judgment. The first impressions from the senses produce in
the mind an involuntary emotion; but a wise man afterwards deliberately
examines them, that he may know whether they be true or false, and
assents to, or rejects them, as the evidence which offers itself to
his understanding appears sufficient or insufficient. This assent, or
approbation, will indeed be as necessarily given, or withheld, according
to the ultimate state of the proofs which are adduced, as the scales of
a balance will sink or rise, according to the weights which are placed
upon them; but while the vulgar give immediate credit to the reports of
the senses, wise men suspend their assent, till they have deliberately
examined the nature of things, and carefully estimated the weight
of evidence. The mind of man is originally like a blank leaf, wholly
without characters, but capable of receiving any. The impressions which
are made upon it, by means of the senses, remain in the memory, after
the objects which occasioned them are removed; a succession of these
continued impressions, made by similar, objects, produces experience;
and hence arises permanent notions, opinions, and knowledge. Even
universal principles are originally formed by experience from sensible
images. All men agree in their common notions or preconceptions;
disputes only arise concerning the application of these to particular
cases.
Let us pass on to the Stoical doctrine concerning nature. According to
Zeno and his followers, there existed from eternity a dark and confused
chaos, in which was contained the first principles of all future beings.
This chaos being at length arranged, and emerging into variable forms,
became the world, as it now subsists. The world, or nature, is that
whole which comprehends all things, and of which all thing are parts
and members. The universe, though one whole, contains two principles,
distinct from elements, one passive, the other active. The passive
principle is pure matter without qualities; the active principle
is reason, or God. This is the fundamental doctrine of the Stoics
concerning nature....The Stoical system teaches, that both the active
and passive principles in nature are corporeal, since whatever acts or
suffers must be so. The efficient cause, or God, is pure ether, or fire,
inhabiting the exterior surface of the heavens, where every thing
which is divine is placed. This ethereal substance, of divine fire,
comprehends all the vital principles by which individual beings are
necessarily produced, and contains the forms of things, which from the
highest regions of the universe, are diffused through every other part
of nature. Seneca, indeed, calls God incorporeal reason; but by this
term he can only mean to distinguish the divine ethereal substance from
gross bodies; for, according to the Stoics, whatever has a substantial
existence is corporeal; nothing is incorporeal, except that infinite
vacuum which surrounds the universe; even mind and voice are corporeal,
and, in like manner, Deity. Matter, or the passive principle, in the
Stoical system, is destitute of all qualities, but ready to receive any
form, inactive, and without motion, unless moved by some external cause.
The con =trary principle, or the ethereal operative fire, being active,
and capable of producing all things from matter, with consummate
skill, according to the forms which it contains, although in its nature
corporeal, considered in opposition to gross and sluggish matter, or
to the elements, is said to be immaterial and spiritual. For want of
carefully attending to the preceding distinction, some writers have been
so far imposed upon, by the bold innovations of the Stoics in the use of
terms, as to inter from the appellations which they sometimes apply
to the Deity, that they conceived him to be strictly and properly
incorporeal. The truth appears to be, that, as they sometimes spoke of
the soul of man, a portion of the Divinity, as an exceedingly rare and
subtle body, and sometimes as a warm or fiery spirit,* so they spoke
of the Deity as corporeal, considered as distinct from the incorporeal
vacuum, or infinite space; but as spiritual, considered in opposition to
gross and inactive matter. They taught, indeed, that God is underived,
incorruptible, and eternal, possessed of intelligence, good and perfect,
the efficient cause of all the peculiar qualities or forms of things;
and the constant preserver and governor of the world; and they described
the Deity under many noble images, and in the most elevated language.
The hymn of Cleanthes, in particular, is justly admired for the grandeur
of its sentiments, and the sublimity of its diction. But if in reading
these descriptions, we hastily associate with them modern conceptions
of Deity, and neglect to recur to the leading principles of the sect, we
shall be led into fundamental misapprehensions of the true doctrine of
Stoicism. For according to this sect. God and matter are alike underived
and eternal, and God is the former of the universe in no other sense
than as he has been the necessary efficient cause, by which motion and
form have been impressed upon matter.
What notions the Stoics entertained of God sufficiently appears from
the single opinion of his finite nature; an opinion which necessarily
followed from the notion that he is only a part of a spherical, and
therefore a finite universe. On the doctrine of divine providence, which
was one of the chief points upon which the Stoics disputed with the
Epicureans, much is written, and with great strength and elegance, by
Seneca, Epictetus, and other later Stoics. But we are not to judge of
the genuine and original doctrine of this sect from the discourses of
writers who had probably corrupted their language on this subject, by
visiting the Christian school. The only way to form an accurate judgment
of their opinions concerning Providence, is to compare their popular
language upon this head with their general system, and explain the
former consistently with the fundamental principles of the latter.
If this be fairly done, it will appear that the agency of Deity is,
according to the Stoics, nothing more than the active motion of a
celestial ether, or fire, possessed of intelligence, which at first gave
form to the shapeless mass of gross matter, and being always essentially
united to the visible world by the same necessary agency, preserves its
order and harmony.
The Stoic idea of Providence is, not that of a being, wholly independent
of matter, freely directing and governing all things, but that of a
necessary chain of causes and effects, arising from the action of a
power, which is itself a part of the existence which it regulates, and
which equally with that existence is subject to the immutable law of
necessity. Providence, in the Stoic creed, is only another name for
absolute necessity, or fate, to which God and matter, or the universe,
which consists of both, is immutably subject. The rational, efficient,
and active principle in nature, the Stoics called by various names:
Nature, fate, Jupiter, God.
"What is nature," says Seneca, "but God; the divine reason, inherent in
the whole universe, and in all its parts? or you may call him, if you
please, the author of all things."
And again: "Whatever appellations imply celestial power and energy, may
be justly applied to God; his names may properly be as numerous as his
offices," The term nature, when it is at all distinguished in the Stoic
system from God, denotes not a separate agent, but that order of things
which is necessarily produced by his perpetual agency. Since the active
principle of nature is comprehended within the world, and with matter
makes one whole, it necessarily follows that God penetrates, pervades,
and animates matter, and the things which are formed from it; or, in
other words, that he is the soul of the universe.
The universe is, according to Zeno and his followers, "a sentient
and animated being." Nor was this a new tenet, but, in some sort, the
doctrine of all antiquity. Pythagoras, Heraclitus, and after these,
Zeno, taking it for granted that there is no real existence which is
not corporeal, conceived nature to be one whole, consisting of a subtle
ether and gross matter, the former the active, the latter the passive
principle, as essentially united as the soul and body of man that is,
they supposed God, with respect to nature, to be, not a co-existing, but
an informing principle.
Concerning the second principle in the universe, matter, and concerning
the visible world, the doctrine of the Stoics is briefly this:--Matter
is the first essence of all things, destitute of, but capable of
receiving, qualities. Considered universally, it is an eternal whole,
which neither increases nor decreases. Considérée! with respect to
its parts, it is capable of increase or diminution, of collision and
separation, and is perpetually changing. Bodies are continually tending
towards dissolution; matter always remains the same. Matter is not
infinite, but finite, being circumscribed by the limits of the world;
but its parts are infinitely divisible. The world is spherical in its
form; and is surrounded by an infinite vacuum. The action of the divine
nature upon matter first produced the element of moisture, and then the
other elements, fire, air, and earth, of which all bodies are composed.
Air and fire have essential levity, or tend towards the exterior surface
of the world; earth and water have essential gravity, or tend towards
the centre. All the elements are capable of reciprocal conversion; air
passing into fire, or into water; earth into air and water; but there
is this essential difference among the elements, that fire and air
have within themselves a principle of motion, while water and earth are
merely passive.... The world, including the whole of nature,
God and matter, subsisted from eternity, and will for ever subsist; but
the present regular frame of nature had a beginning, and will have
an end. The parts tend towards a dissolution, but the whole remains
immutably the same. The world is liable to destruction from the
prevalence of moisture, or of dryness; the former producing a universal
inundation, the latter a universal conflagration. These succeed each
other in nature as regularly as winter and summer. When the universal
inundation takes place, the whole surface of the earth is covered with
water, and all animal life is destroyed; after which, nature is renewed
and subsists as before, till the element of fire, becoming prevalent in
its turn, dries up all the moisture, converts every substance into its
own nature, and at last, by a universal conflagration, reduces the world
to its pristine state. At this period, all material forms are lost in
one chaotic mass: all animated nature is re-united to the Deity, and
nature again exists in its original form, as one whole, consisting of
God and matter. From this chaotic state, however, it again emerges, by
the energy of the efficient principle, and gods, and men, and all the
forms of regulated nature, are renewed, and to be dissolved and renewed
in endless succession. The above is collated from Ritter, Enfield,
and Lewes, as a specimen of one of the earlier phases of Freethought.
Freethought as then expressed had many faults and flaws, but it has
grown better every day, extending and widening its circle of utterance,
and we hope that it will continue to do so.
"I."
MATTHEW TINDAL.
It is easy to mark the progress of the age by recurring to the history
of past Freethinkers. Bishops, established and dissenting, are now
repeating the parts the old Deiste played. _They_ were sadly treated for
setting the example, modern divines follow with applause.
Matthew Tindal was an example of this. He labored to establish religion
on the foundation of Reason and Nature. It was to be expected that
Christians would be pleased at efforts which would have no effect but
to strengthen its foundations. The effort was met by reprobation, and
resented as an injury. It is but a just retaliation that believers
should now have to establish in vain that evidence they once denounced.
Matthew Tindal was an English Deistical writer, who was born at
Beer-Terres, in Devonshire, 1656.--His father, it appears, was a
clergyman, who held the living of Beer-Terres, presented to him by the
University of Cambridge, in the time of the Civil Wars.--Young Matthew
was educated at Oxford, where at twenty-eight he took the degree of
LL.D. Matthew Tindal, LL. D., was early tossed about by the winds of
doctrine. First he embraced Romanism: afterwards he became a Protestant.
Then politics interested him, and he engaged in controversy on the side
of William III. He was appointed Commissioner of a Court for Trying
Foreigners. In 1693 he published an essay on the Law of Nations
When fifty-four, in 1710, he entered so vigorously into theological
controversy, arising out of Trinitarian criticism, that his marked
satire led to his books being condemned by the House of Commons, and
burnt by the hangman. He resented this indignity by a spirited attack on
the dominant priestly party in his "High Church Catechism," and he also
wrote in defence of philosophical necessity. But his most notable work
was the performance of his old age, his "Christianity as Old as the
Creation: or, the Gospel, a Republication of the Religion of Nature."
This was produced in his seventy-third year. He was attacked in Reply
by Bishop Waterland. It is generally agreed that in point of good spirit
and good temper the Bishop was far inferior to the Deist. Dr. Conyers
Middleton, says Thomas Cooper, in his brief sketch of Tindal, appeared
in defence of Tindal in a "Letter to Dr. Waterland," whom he condemned
for the shallowness of his answer to Tindal, and boldly and frankly
admitted that the Freethinker was right in asserting that the Jews
borrowed some of their ceremonies and customs from Egypt; that allegory
was, in some cases, employed in the Scriptures, where common readers
took the relation for fact; and, that the Scriptures are _not_ of
"absolute and universal inspiration." The following sentence, which will
be found in this "Letter" of Dr. Conyers Middleton, does honor to his
name:--"If religion consists in depreciating moral duties and depressing
natural reason; if the duty of it be to hate and persecute for
a different way of thinking where the best and wisest have never
agreed--then. I declare myself an Infidel, and to have no share in that
religion." Matthew Tindal died at his house in Coldbath Fields, of the
stone, 1773, aged seventy-seven. * Rysbrach, the famous statuary, took a
model of him.
* Julian Hibbert gives 1656-7: Dr. Beard, 1556; Thomas
Cooper, 1657, as the year of Tindal's birth. All agree that
he died 1733--he was therefore seventy-six or seventy-seven
at the time of his death.
Tindal opens his great work thus:--"The author makes no apology for
writing on a subject of the last importance; and which, as far as I can
find, has no where been so fully treated: he builds nothing on a thing
so uncertain as tradition, which differs in most countries; and of
which, in all countries, the bulk of mankind are incapable of judging;
but thinks he has laid down such plain and evident rules, as may
enable men of the meanest capacity, to distinguish between religion and
superstition; and has represented the former in every part so beautiful,
so amiable, and so strongly affecting, that they, who in the least
reflect, must be highly in love with it; and easily perceive, that their
duty and happiness are inseparable."
The character of the performance will be seen from a few of the
propositions he maintains:--
"That God, at all times, has given mankind sufficient means of knowing
whatever he requires of them.
"That the religion of nature consists in observing those things, which
our reason, by considering the nature of God and man, and the relation
we stand in to him, and one another, demonstrates to be our duty; and
that those things are plain; and likewise what they are.
"That the perfection and happiness of all rational beings, supreme
as well as subordinate, consist in living up to the dictates of their
nature.
"That God requires nothing for his own sake; no, not the worship we are
to render him, nor the faith we are to have in him.
"That the not adhering to those notions reason dictates, concerning
the nature of God, has been the occasion of all superstition, and those
innumerable mischiefs, that mankind, on the account of religion, have
done either to themselves, or one another.
"The bulk of mankind, by their reason, must be able to distinguish
between religion and superstition; otherwise they can never extricate
themselves from that superstition they chance to be educated in."
Tindal deals with the question of the obscurity of Revelation in these
terms, sufficiently salient to alarm the very proper divines of that
day:--