CHAPTER XV

THE STOICS

Zeno of Cyprus, the founder of the Stoic School, a Greek of Phoenician

descent, was born about 342 B.C., and died in 270. He is said to have

followed philosophy; because he lost all his property in a

ship-wreck--a motive characteristic of the age. He came to Athens, and

learned philosophy under Crates the Cynic, Stilpo the Megaric, and

Polemo the Academic. About 300 B.C. he founded his school at the Stoa

Poecile (many-coloured portico) whence the name Stoic. He died by his

own hand. He was followed by Cleanthes, and then by Chrysippus, as

leaders of the school. Chrysippus was a man of immense productivity

and laborious scholarship. He composed over seven hundred books, but

all are lost. Though not the founder, he was the chief pillar of

Stoicism. The school attracted many adherents, and flourished for many

centuries, not only in Greece, but later in Rome, where the most

thoughtful writers, such as Marcus Aurelius, Seneca, and Epictetus,

counted themselves among its followers.

We know little for certain as to what share particular Stoics, Zeno,

Cleanthes, or Chrysippus, had in the formation of the doctrines of the

school. But after Chrysippus the main lines of the doctrine were

complete. {345} We shall deal, therefore, with Stoicism as a whole,

and not with the special teaching of particular Stoics. The system is

divided into three parts, Logic, Physics, and Ethics, of which the

first two are entirely subservient to the last. Stoicism is

essentially a system of ethics which, however, is guided by a logic as

theory of method, and rests upon physics as foundation.

Logic.

We may pass over the formal logic of the Stoics, which is, in all

essentials, the logic of Aristotle. To this, however, they added a

theory, peculiar to themselves, of the origin of knowledge and the

criterion of truth. All knowledge, they said, enters the mind through

the senses. The mind is a _tabula rasa_, upon which sense-impressions

are inscribed. It may have a certain activity of its own, but this

activity is confined exclusively to materials supplied by the physical

organs of sense. This theory stands, of course, in sheer opposition to

the idealism of Plato, for whom the mind alone was the source of

knowledge, the senses being the sources of all illusion and error. The

Stoics denied the metaphysical reality of concepts. Concepts are

merely ideas in the mind, abstracted from particulars, and have no

reality outside consciousness.

Since all knowledge is a knowledge of sense-objects, truth is simply

the correspondence of our impressions to things. How are we to know

whether our ideas are correct copies of things? How distinguish

between reality and imagination, dreams, or illusions? What is the

criterion of truth? It cannot lie in concepts, since these are of our

own making. Nothing is true save {346} sense-impressions, and

therefore the criterion of truth must lie in sensation itself. It

cannot be in thought, but must be in feeling. Real objects, said the

Stoics, produce in us an intense feeling, or conviction, of their

reality. The strength and vividness of the image distinguish these

real perceptions from a dream or fancy. Hence the sole criterion of

truth is this striking conviction, whereby the real forces itself upon

our consciousness, and will not be denied. The relapse into complete

subjectivity will here be noted. There is no universally grounded

criterion of truth. It is based, not on reason, but on feeling. All

depends on the subjective convictions of the individual.

Physics.

The fundamental proposition of the Stoic physics is that "nothing

incorporeal exists." This materialism coheres with the sensationalism

of their doctrine of knowledge. Plato placed knowledge in thought, and

reality, therefore, in the Idea. The Stoics, however, place knowledge

in physical sensation, and reality, therefore, in what is known by the

senses, matter. All things, they said, even the soul, even God

himself, are material and nothing more than material. This belief they

based upon two main considerations. Firstly, the unity of the world

demands it. The world is one, and must issue from one principle. We

must have a monism. The idealism of Plato and Aristotle had resolved

itself into a futile struggle against the dualism of matter and

thought. Since the gulf cannot be bridged from the side of the Idea,

we must take our stand on matter, and reduce mind to it. Secondly,

body and soul, God and {347} the world, are pairs which act and react

upon one another. The body, for example, produces thoughts

(sense-impressions) in the soul, the soul produces movements in the

body. This would be impossible if both were not of the same substance.

The corporeal cannot act on the incorporeal, nor the incorporeal on

the corporeal. There is no point of contact. Hence all must be equally

corporeal.

All things being material, what is the original kind of matter, or

stuff, out of which the world is made? The Stoics turned to

Heracleitus for an answer. Fire is the primordial kind of being, and

all things are composed of fire. With this materialism the Stoics

combined pantheism. The primal fire is God. God is related to the

world exactly as the soul to the body. The human soul is likewise

fire, and comes from the divine fire. It permeates and penetrates the

entire body, and, in order that its interpenetration might be regarded

as complete, the Stoics denied the impenetrability of matter. Just as

the soul-fire permeates the whole body, so God, the primal fire,

pervades the entire world. He is the soul of the world. The world is

His body.

But in spite of this materialism, the Stoics averred that God is

absolute reason. This is not a return to idealism. It does not imply

the incorporeality of God. For reason, like all else, is material. It

means simply that the divine fire is a rational element. Since God is

reason, it follows that the world is governed by reason, and this

means two things. It means, firstly, that there is purpose in the

world, and therefore, order, harmony, beauty, and design. Secondly,

since reason is law as opposed to the lawless, it means that the

universe is {348} subject to the absolute sway of law, is governed by

the rigorous necessity of cause and effect.

Hence the individual is not free. There can be no true freedom of the

will in a world governed by necessity. We may, without harm, say that

we choose to do this or that, that our acts are voluntary. But such

phrases merely mean that we assent to what we do. What we do is none

the less governed by causes, and therefore by necessity.

The world-process is circular. God changes the fiery substance of

himself first into air, then water, then earth. So the world arises.

But it will be ended by a conflagration in which all things will

return into the primal fire. Thereafter, at a pre-ordained time, God

will again transmute himself into a world. It follows from the law of

necessity that the course taken by this second, and every subsequent,

world, will be identical in every way with the course taken by the

first world. The process goes on for ever, and nothing new ever

happens. The history of each successive world is the same as that of

all the others down to the minutest details.

The human soul is part of the divine fire, and proceeds into man from

God. Hence it is a rational soul, and this is a point of cardinal

importance in connexion with the Stoic ethics. But the soul of each

individual does not come direct from God. The divine fire was breathed

into the first man, and thereafter passes from parent to child in the

act of procreation. After death, all souls, according to some, but

only the souls of the good, according to others, continue in

individual existence until the general conflagration in which they,

and all else, return to God.

{349}

Ethics.

The Stoic ethical teaching is based upon two principles already

developed in their physics; first, that the universe is governed by

absolute law, which admits of no exceptions; and second, that the

essential nature of man is reason. Both are summed up in the famous

Stoic maxim, "Live according to nature." For this maxim has two

aspects. It means, in the first place, that men should conform

themselves to nature in the wider sense, that is, to the laws of the

universe, and secondly, that they should conform their actions to

nature in the narrower sense, to their own essential nature, reason.

These two expressions mean, for the Stoics, the same thing. For the

universe is governed not only by law, but by the law of reason, and

man in following his own rational nature is _ipso facto_ conforming

himself to the laws of the larger world. In a sense, of course, there

is no possibility of man's disobeying the laws of nature, for he, like

all else in the world, acts of necessity. And it might be asked, what

is the use of exhorting a man to obey the laws of the universe, when,

as part of the great mechanism of the world, he cannot by any

possibility do anything else? It is not to be supposed that a genuine

solution of this difficulty is to be found in Stoic philosophy. They

urged, however, that, though man will in any case do as the necessity

of the world compels him, it is given to him alone, not merely to obey

the law, but to assent to his own obedience, to follow the law

consciously and deliberately, as only a rational being can.

Virtue, then, is the life according to reason. Morality is simply

rational action. It is the universal reason which is to govern our

lives, not the caprice and self-will {350} of the individual. The wise

man consciously subordinates his life to the life of the whole

universe, and recognises himself as merely a cog in the great machine.

Now the definition of morality as the life according to reason is not

a principle peculiar to the Stoics. Both Plato and Aristotle taught

the same. In fact, as we have already seen, to found morality upon

reason, and not upon the particular foibles, feelings, or intuitions,

of the individual self, is the basis of every genuine ethic. But what

was peculiar to the Stoics was the narrow and one-sided interpretation

which they gave to this principle. Aristotle had taught that the

essential nature of man is reason, and that morality consists in

following this, his essential nature. But he recognized that the

passions and appetites have their place in the human organism. He did

not demand their suppression, but merely their control by reason. But

the Stoics looked upon the passions as essentially irrational, and

demanded their complete extirpation. They envisaged life as a battle

against the passions, in which the latter had to be completely

annihilated. Hence their ethical views end in a rigorous and

unbalanced asceticism.

Aristotle, in his broad and moderate way, though he believed virtue

alone to possess intrinsic value, yet allowed to external goods and

circumstances a place in the scheme of life. The Stoics asserted that

virtue alone is good, vice alone evil, and that all else is absolutely

indifferent. Poverty, sickness, pain, and death, are not evils.

Riches, health, pleasure, and life, are not goods. A man may commit

suicide, for in destroying his life he destroys nothing of value.

Above all, pleasure is not a good. One ought not to seek pleasure.

Virtue is {351} the only happiness. And man must be virtuous, not for

the sake of pleasure, but for the sake of duty. And since virtue alone

is good, vice alone evil, there followed the further paradox that all

virtues are equally good, and all vices equally evil. There are no

degrees.

Virtue is founded upon reason, and so upon knowledge. Hence the

importance of science, physics, logic, which are valued not for

themselves, but because they are the foundations of morality. The

prime virtue, and the root of all other virtues, is therefore wisdom.

The wise man is synonymous with the good man. From the root-virtue,

wisdom, spring the four cardinal virtues, insight, bravery,

self-control, justice. But since all virtues have one root, he who

possesses wisdom possesses all virtue, he who lacks it lacks all. A

man is either wholly virtuous, or wholly vicious. The world is divided

into wise men and fools, the former perfectly good, the latter

absolutely evil. There is nothing between the two. There is no such

thing as a gradual transition from one to the other. Conversion must

be instantaneous. The wise man is perfect, has all happiness, freedom,

riches, beauty. He alone is the perfect king, statesman, poet,

prophet, orator, critic, physician. The fool has all vice, all misery,

all ugliness, all poverty. And every man is one or the other. Asked

where such a wise man was to be found, the Stoics pointed doubtfully

at Socrates and Diogenes the Cynic. The number of the wise, they

thought, is small, and is continually growing smaller. The world,

which they painted in the blackest colours as a sea of vice and

misery, grows steadily worse.

In all this we easily recognize the features of a resuscitated

Cynicism. But the Stoics modified and softened {352} the harsh

outlines of Cynicism, and rounded off its angles. To do this meant

inconsistency. It meant that they first laid down harsh principles,

and then proceeded to tone them down, to explain them away, to admit

exceptions. Such inconsistency the Stoics accepted with their habitual

cheerfulness. This process of toning down their first harsh utterances

took place mainly in three ways. In the first place, they modified

their principle of the complete extirpation of the passions. Since

this is impossible, and, if possible, could only lead to immovable

inactivity, they admitted that the wise man might exhibit certain mild

and rational emotions, and that the roots of the passions might be

found in him, though he never allowed them to grow. In the second

place, they modified their principle that all else, save virtue and

vice, is indifferent. Such a view is unreal, and out of accord with

life. Hence the Stoics, with a masterly disregard of consistency,

stuck to the principle, and yet declared that among things indifferent

some are preferable to others. If the wise man has the choice between

health and sickness, he will choose the former. Indifferent things

were divided into three classes, those to be preferred, those to be

avoided, and those which are absolutely indifferent. In the third

place, the Stoics toned down the principle that men are either wholly

good, or wholly evil. The famous heroes and statesmen of history,

though fools, are yet polluted with the common vices of mankind less

than others. Moreover, what were the Stoics to say about themselves?

Were they wise men or fools? They hesitated to claim perfection, to

put themselves on a level with Socrates and Diogenes. Yet they could

not bring themselves to admit that there was {353} no difference

between themselves and the common herd. They were "proficients," and,

if not absolutely wise, approximated to wisdom.

If the Stoics were thus merely less consistent Cynics, and originated

nothing in the doctrines of physics and ethics so far considered, yet

of one idea at least they can claim to be the inventors. This was the

idea of cosmopolitanism. This they deduced from two grounds. Firstly,

the universe is one, proceeds from one God, is ordered by one law, and

forms one system. Secondly, however much men may differ in

unessentials, they share their essential nature, their reason, in

common. Hence all men are of one stock, as rational beings, and should

form one State. The division of mankind into warring States is

irrational and absurd. The wise man is not a citizen of this or that

State. He is a citizen of the world.

This is, however, only an application of principles already asserted.

The Stoics produced no essentially new thought, in physics, or in

ethics. Their entire stock of ideas is but a new combination of ideas

already developed by their predecessors. They were narrow, extreme,

over-rigorous, and one-sided. Their truths are all half-truths. And

they regarded philosophy too subjectively. What alone interested them

was the question, how am I to live? Yet in spite of these defects,

there is undoubtedly something grand and noble about their zeal for

duty, their exaltation above all that is petty and paltry, their

uncompromising contempt for all lower ends. Their merit, says

Schwegler, was that "in an age of ruin they held fast by the moral

idea."

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A critical history of Greek philosophy · 第 17 / 21 章