The Mutual Influence of Christianity and the Stoic School
THE MUTUAL INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY AND THE STOIC SCHOOL.
BY
JAMES HENRY BRYANT, B.D.
ST JOHN’S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE,
INCUMBENT OF ASTLEY, WARWICKSHIRE.
μάντις εἴμ’ ἐσθλῶν ἀγώνων.
SOPH. _Œd. Col. 1080._
London and Cambridge:
MACMILLAN AND CO.
1866.
Cambridge:
PRINTED BY C. J. CLAY M.A.
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.
TO HIS GRACE,
WILLIAM, DUKE OF DEVONSHIRE, K.G., LL.D.
CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE,
THE FOLLOWING ESSAY, BEING
THE HULSEAN DISSERTATION
IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE, FOR THE YEAR 1865, IS
BY HIS GRACE’S KIND PERMISSION,
RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED.
CONTENTS.
Introduction . . . 1
CHAPTER I.
The Stoic School of Philosophy . . . 13
CHAPTER II.
Stoicism in comparison with Christianity . . . 27
CHAPTER III.
The Influence of Christianity on Stoicism . . . 48
CHAPTER IV.
The Influence of Stoicism on the Christian Church . . . 74
Conclusion . . . 91
CLAUSES _directed by the_ FOUNDER _to be always prefixed to the_ HULSEAN
DISSERTATION.
CLAUSES from the WILL of the Rev. JOHN HULSE, late of Elworth, in
the County of Chester, clerk, deceased: dated the twenty-first day
of July, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and
seventy-seven; expressed in the words of the Testator, as he, in
order to prevent mistakes, thought proper to draw and write the same
himself, and directed that such clauses should every year be
printed, to the intent that the several persons, whom it might
concern and be of service to, might know that there were such
special donations or endowments left for the encouragement of Piety
and Learning, in an age so unfortunately addicted to Infidelity and
Luxury, and that others might be invited to the like charitable,
and, as he humbly hoped, seasonable and useful Benefactions.
He directs that certain rents and profits (now amounting to about a
hundred pounds yearly) be paid to such learned and ingenious person, in
the University of Cambridge, under the degree of Master of Arts, as
shall compose, for that year, the best Dissertation, in the English
language, on the Evidences in general, or on the Prophecies or Miracles
in particular, or any other particular Argument, whether the same be
direct or collateral proofs of the Christian Religion, in order to
evince its truth and excellence; the subject of which Dissertation shall
be given out by the Vice-Chancellor, and the Masters of Trinity and
Saint John’s, his Trustees, or by some of them, on New Year’s Day
annually; and that such Dissertation as shall be by them[1], or any two
of them, on Christmas Day annually, the best approved, be also printed,
and the expense defrayed out of the Author’s income under his Will, and
the remainder given to him on Saint John the Evangelist’s Day following;
and he who shall be so rewarded, shall not be admitted at any future
time as a Candidate again in the same way, to the intent that others may
be invited and encouraged to write on so sacred and sublime a subject.
He also desires, that immediately following the last of the clauses
relating to the prize Dissertation, this invocation may be added: “May
the Divine Blessing for ever go along with all my benefactions; and may
the Greatest and the Best of Beings, by his all-wise Providence and
gracious influence, make the same effectual to His own glory, and the
good of my fellow-creatures!”
Subject proposed by the TRUSTEES for the Year 1865:
_The mutual Influence of Christianity and the Stoic School._
Footnote 1:
By the new Regulations, the four Divinity Professors were appointed as
additional Adjudicators.
INTRODUCTION.
It was at Athens, “the school of the world,” that the first and only
contact of Christianity with Gentile Philosophy, recorded in the New
Testament, took place. In “the learned city” the mightiest efforts of
the human mind had been made to grasp eternal truth. But the
contradictions in the teachings of the master-minds of Greece and the
consequent doubt and unbelief so prevalent, at the same time, with the
most abject superstition, proved that the effort had been vain to arrive
at a full comprehension of the Infinite from a consideration of the
finite—to rise from man to GOD. In this same city, about half a century
after the birth of the Redeemer, there was unveiled to human souls which
had been longing for the knowledge of the unseen, “the mystery of
Godliness,” that “GOD” had been “manifest in the flesh.” The eyes which
had been long looking for the day might now behold the day-star from on
high who had visited and blessed the world with light and salvation. Now
there could be found repose of soul and certainty of belief, because the
Truth had come down from heaven, from GOD to man, that He might raise
man to GOD. Heavenly wisdom at length encountered human wisdom and pride
of intellect in their stronghold.
By this I do not mean that before St Paul came to Athens there had been
no contest of the religion of Christ with mere human conceits.
Philosophy is only the endeavor to reduce the thoughts of men to a
system, to find a grammar for the language of the mind, or rather,
perhaps, to find a language as well as a grammar. Wherever there is mind
there will be thought, either with, or without a system. So that
Christianity, in winning its way, had met with opposition of human
thought before the great Apostle of Jesus reached the metropolis of
thought. Indeed the very sects of philosophy, which sneered at the
revelation of heavenly truth on its introduction into Athens, had their
counterparts in Judæa, and especially at Jerusalem. We have the
testimony of a Pharisee, that the “sect of the Pharisees bore a strong
affinity to that called Stoic among the Greeks[2].” We are led to
perceive, also, from the accounts we have of the free-living Sadducees,
who claimed absolute freedom for the human will, that the Epicureans
were represented in some degree by them. They were sceptics as to the
providence of GOD, “believed in neither angel, nor spirit[3];” “they
took away all fate, and would not allow it to be anything at all, nor to
have any power over human affairs, but put all things entirely into the
power of our own free will[4].” Both Pharisees and Sadducees, though
disagreeing in other respects, yet were united in their efforts against
the spread of the truth. From the earliest preaching of the doctrines of
the Gospel, the same spirit of self-seeking and pride of human nature
which animated the Epicureans and Stoics, showed themselves adverse to
the humbling views which Jesus set forth. And we cannot forget that St
Paul, immediately after his conversion, having been in great danger at
Damascus and at Jerusalem from the rage of the Jews because of his
becoming a Christian, dwelt some time in quiet at Tarsus, his native
city. We have no record of how he spent his time there on that occasion.
But doubtless, as at other places so there, he would proclaim the
conviction which he so strongly felt of the excellence and truth of the
Gospel. If so, it is probable that he met with the same kind of coldness
and contempt for his message from the philosophers of Tarsus, as
afterwards from those of Athens. The native city of St Paul was noted
for the eagerness for learning displayed by its people. Strabo tells us
“the men of this place are so zealous in the study of philosophy and all
other subjects of education that they surpass the inhabitants of Athens
and Alexandria, and every place that one could mention where schools of
philosophy are found. The difference is in this respect. Here they are
all natives who are eager after learning, and strangers do not choose a
residence here. They themselves (the Tarsians) do not stay, but finish
their course of training abroad. Few return home again. Whereas, in the
other cities which I have named, except Alexandria, there is a contrary
practice; for many come to them and live willingly there: but you will
see few of those born there either going to other places for the sake of
philosophy, or caring to study it at home. The Alexandrians combine both
descriptions, for they receive many strangers, and send abroad not a few
of their own people.” We learn also from other sources that from
Cilicia, and especially from Tarsus, a great many of the most celebrated
Stoics came, and it appears therefore extremely probable that St Paul
would meet with such in his visit to that city. If he met with them,
they would hear the truth from his lips. His heart would prompt him, as
it did afterwards at Athens, to proclaim glad tidings of salvation to
all; and to those who professed to seek the knowledge of deeper
mysteries than the ignorant mass cared to inquire about, he would
declare “the mystery which” had “been hid for ages,” but was now
“revealed to the sons of men by Jesus Christ.”
Of these meetings between the Apostle and the philosophers of his native
city, if they took place, we have no record. The first account we have
of the contact of the religion of Christ and the wisdom of men is given
us by the writer of the Acts of the Apostles, in the seventeenth chapter
of the history. We are told that, while St Paul waited at Athens for
Silas and Timotheus, “his spirit was stirred within him when he saw the
city wholly given to idolatry. Therefore disputed he in the synagogue
with the Jews and with the devout persons; and in the market (τῇ ἀγορᾷ)
daily with them that met him. Then certain of the Epicureans and of the
Stoics encountered him. And some said, ‘What will this babbler say?’
Other some, ‘He seemeth to be a setter forth of strange gods;’ because
he preached unto them Jesus and the resurrection.” It seems necessary in
passing, to notice here the two sects of philosophers who encountered
the Apostle. They were then the two most prominent in Greece; one might
say they divided between them the adherence of all thoughtful minds. The
Epicureans were advocates of the doctrine of the absolute freedom of the
human will to choose what is agreeable to it. They denied the providence
of GOD, or that he concerns himself at all about human affairs.
According to them, the universe was neither formed, nor created, by an
intelligent being; but was merely the fortuitous concourse of infinite
atoms. They taught that happiness consisted in the pursuit of pleasure,
and, as all wish to be happy, all should seek after the greatest amount
of pleasure to be obtained. Although Epicurus was fiercely assailed by
the disciples of the opposite school, and “the garden,” where he taught,
was held to be a hot-bed of sensuality, there was probably much
exaggeration in the reports that were spread. Epicurus meant by his
teaching, perhaps, not that men should seek after every momentary
gratification, but for the greatest enjoyment of a whole life. Yet as
this doctrine left man to be his own judge, it is not to be wondered at
if the moderation of the founder of the sect was little imitated by his
disciples. Men took pleasures as they came, not knowing what pleasure
might be in the future, and not caring for the morrow; so vice and
profligacy were the result, instead of virtue and contentment and true
enjoyment.
The Stoics, on the other hand, were absolute fatalists, and taught that
virtue consists in following the decrees of nature and acting according
to the dictates which ruled all things. We shall not now enter fully
into their doctrines, as these will require careful attention and full
development in accordance with the purpose of this essay. We shall see,
bye and bye, that the principles of their school were of such a nature
as to produce in some respects the strongest, in others, the weakest of
men. Stoicism and Epicureanism both left man practically to himself.
They agreed in looking at self-cultivation and self-interest as the
chief good. The controversy between the two systems was what it has
continued to be since among ethical philosophers, a controversy as to
the sources of moral rules. Epicurus was an advocate of what has been
called “the selfish system of morals.” Zeno and the Stoics advocated the
contrary system. It seems, however, that though the conflict between
them has been so long, and often so fierce, the two systems are not
incompatible one with the other. Indeed in the word of GOD both motives
are set before us to urge us to right conduct, the loveliness of virtue
in itself, and the combined happiness and blessedness to be gained from
a certain course of life. This view has been put in a few forcible words
by an eminent writer of the present day, who says, “Some moralists
employ themselves mainly in deducing the rules of action from
considering the tendencies of actions to produce pleasure or pain, as
Paley and Bentham. Others take pains to show that man has a faculty by
which he apprehends a higher Rule of action than the mere tendency to
produce pleasure, as Butler. But though these two sources of morality
are thus separate, they are not really independent; and it is, as I
conceive, important to present them in a mode which shows their
connexion and relation[5].” One of these springs of action does not
necessarily counteract the other. Doubtless, there is in man an innate
appreciation of the beauty of virtue. Though the temple of the human
soul has been laid in ruins by the touch of sin, yet does it still
retain marks of its primeval glory. It was not created for anything but
the abode of purity. Hence we perceive naturally the excellence of
virtue. When I say naturally, I mean as man is at all times enabled to
see by GOD’s help. We must remember that, by virtue of the Redeemer’s
merits, all men are blessed with a certain degree of enlightenment.
Speaking of the Eternal Logos, St John says[6], “That was the true light
which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.” Only because men
in their obstinacy close their eyes, the light which is given them often
becomes darkness. So St Paul, speaking of those without Revelation,
says[7], “They are a law to themselves, which show the work of the law
written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, and
their thoughts between themselves accusing, or else excusing one
another.” In order to this they must appreciate the beauty and
excellence of virtue. So Justin Martyr declares[8], “Every race of men
participated in the Logos.” When we speak of man by nature then, we mean
man with the aid of this light given to him by Christ. And we must
perceive great force in the statement of Berkeley, that “There is an
idea of beauty natural to the mind of man. This all men desire. This
they are pleased and delighted with for its own sake, purely from an
instinct of nature. A man needs no argument to make him discern and
approve what is beautiful; it strikes at first sight and attracts
without a reason. And as this beauty is found in the shape and form of
corporeal things, so also is there analogous to it a beauty of another
kind, an order, a symmetry and comeliness in the moral world. And as the
eye perceives the one, so the mind doth by a certain interior sense
perceive the other: which sense, talent, or faculty, is even quickest
and purest in the noblest minds. Thus, as by sight I discern the beauty
of a plant, or an animal, even so the mind approves moral excellence,
the beauty and decorum of justice and temperance. And as we readily
pronounce a dress becoming, or an attitude graceful, we can, with the
same free, untutored judgment, at once declare whether this or that
conduct or action, be comely or beautiful.”
We cannot deny, on the other hand, that men act from a feeling of
self-interest. To obtain pleasure or escape pain is motive enough to
make men pursue a certain course instinctively, without weighing
accurately, or even caring at all for the motives which prompt them.
When men see that virtue brings in its train present blessing and
eternal hopes, shall we deny that this is a strong reason why they
should pursue it? Doubtless such a reason weighs with many and draws
them to a right course, without a question arising in their minds as to
the motives by which they are actuated.
Then the enquiry naturally occurs, since virtue commends itself to us as
both lovely and beneficial, shall we reject the loveliness as a motive,
because our self-interest moves us also? On the other hand, shall we
reject hope of benefit, because the innate loveliness of the object
commends itself to us? May we not be moved by the double influence?
Certainly the word of GOD seems to sanction such a double motive to
religion and virtue.
Yet here we are brought to the humbling conviction of the weakness of
man without Christianity. Men had this combined motive for ages. What
was the result on the heart and the life? What effect had even the
teaching of the wisest? The masses were still sunk in superstition and
sin. The farthest advanced were only looking at a height which they
could not hope to reach. The most acute thinkers were often in doubt. We
see the extremes meeting. Superstition, in its most debased and
enthralling forms, stands boldly in the front of the most exalted
teachings of philosophy. What could mere philosophy do? She could
perhaps find employment for the minds of a few of the most gifted. But
what had she to give as food for the hungry souls of the multitude? The
starving spirits asked for bread, and she gave them the stone of an
unattainable moral excellence. They asked for fish, and she gave them
the stinging serpent of pleasure and self-enjoyment[9]. In Athens the
human mind reached its zenith, yet could not rise to happiness or peace.
How unspeakably was the world blessed, therefore, when the cross of
Christ was raised as the means whereby man might reach heaven. Never
before was such life-giving truth offered to the Athenians, as the good
news which was now brought by the Apostle who “preached unto them Jesus
and the resurrection.” This was the subject of St Paul’s daily
discourses in the Agora. Instead of blind theories and abstract ideas,
he placed before them a person;—a divine person, who had left an example
of how to act and how to suffer;—a Saviour, who had died to open the way
to happiness for others; who had risen again to show that his sacrifice
was complete and sufficient. The Epicureans wondered and yet were
unbelieving, while they heard of one who was Lord of all, that he
thought of men’s lives and cared for their needs. It was strange and
unwelcome to them, who held that happiness was enjoyment and freedom
from pain, to hear one proclaimed as worthy of their admiration and
trust, who was “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief,” who even
gloried in His sufferings and death; and who had bid those that would be
his disciples, take up their cross and follow him, by resisting and
subduing self and pride. The Stoics heard the tidings (for “the porch”
was in the Agora), and they, stern and self-reliant, were surprised, yet
not pleased, to hear of one who led a life of self-sacrifice for others’
sake; who was meek and lowly; and who had sent his messenger to declare
to those very self-satisfied philosophers, that the only way to real
virtue for them, as for the rest of mankind, was by trusting in the
merits of another, and by a change of heart through His divine power.
“The resurrection” was also equally strange and equally contrary to the
ideas of the one sect, who regarded death as annihilation; and of the
other, who looked on it as the absorption of men into universal nature
of which they were component parts. To some the preacher seemed a mere
babbler, a picker up of trifles, and therefore contemptible. To others,
he was a setter forth of strange gods. But because they are all desirous
of hearing anything newer than what they already are acquainted with,
they bring the Apostle to Mars’ Hill, and desire him more fully to
expound to them the strange things which he had brought to their ears.
The locality chosen was more suitable than the busy market-place. The
associations of the place were solemn and deeply interesting. The
subject then brought before the people in the Areopagus was worthy of
those associations,—far more important and of more momentous
consequences than had ever been deliberated on there in times that were
gone by. The place, the speaker, the hearers, the subject, all appeal to
our sympathies and interest us most deeply. The discourse of the Apostle
was admirably suited to the place and the hearers. He appealed to their
deepest convictions, while at the same time the message which he brought
thwarted many of their cherished ideas, St Luke has given us a report of
this speech, so eloquent, so worthy of the admiration of all time, so
well calculated to show how far Christianity coincided with Gentile, and
especially Stoic, philosophy, and how it excelled. This was what St Paul
said, “Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all respects you are
extremely devout[10]. For as I passed through your city and beheld the
objects of your worship, I found among them an altar on which was this
inscription, ‘To the unknown GOD.’ Him, therefore, whom you worship
though you know him not, I set before you. GOD, who made the world and
all things therein, being Lord of heaven and earth, dwelleth not in
temples made with hands; neither is he served by men’s hands as being in
need of any, seeing he giveth to all life and breath and all things. And
hath made of one blood every nation of men to dwell on the face of the
whole earth; having ordained (to all) their appointed seasons and the
bounds of their habitations, that they might seek GOD, if haply they
would feel after him and find him, though he be not far from every one
of us. For in Him we live and move and have our being; as certain also
of your own poets have said, ‘For we are also his offspring.’ We,
therefore, being the offspring of GOD, ought not to think the Godhead to
be like gold, or silver, or stone graven by art or man’s device. Howbeit
those (past) times of ignorance GOD hath overlooked; but now he
commandeth all men everywhere to repent. Because he hath appointed a day
in which he will judge the world in righteousness by that man whom he
hath ordained, whereof he hath given assurance unto all, in that he
raised him from the dead[11].”
There is much, in connexion with the purpose of our essay, that requires
careful consideration in this discourse. If we want to understand the
influence which Christianity and Stoicism exercised, one on the other,
and on the souls of men, we must notice them side by side at this their
first public encounter. When we have observed how far the Christian
teacher agreed with the Stoic philosopher, and in what he differed and
excelled, we shall have a fair starting-place for investigating the
mutual consequences which resulted. In order properly to grasp our
subject, it will be necessary to place before our minds what Stoicism
was as it came from its founder, and how far it was modified at this
time. I purpose therefore in another chapter to give a sketch of the
life and teaching of Zeno of Cittium, and of the modifications of his
system by Cleanthes and Chrysippus. The way will then be clear to
compare the Apostle’s teaching with theirs, and to appreciate the
peculiar excellence of the good news preached by St Paul on Mars’ Hill.
Footnote 2:
Ἢ Φαρισαίων αἵρεσις παραπλήσιος ἐστὶ τῇ παρ’ Ἕλλησι Στωϊκῇ
λεγομέvyῃ.—Jos. _in vita suâ_.
Footnote 3:
Acts xxiii. 8.
Footnote 4:
Τἠν μἐv εἱμαρμένην ἀναιροῦσιν, οὐδὲν εἶναι ταύτην ἀξιοῦντες, οὔτε κατ’
αὐτὴν τὰ ἀνθρώπινα τέλος λαμβάνειν, ἄπαντα δὲ ἐφ’ ἡμῖν αὐτοῖς
τιθέντες.—Jos. _Ant. Jud._ XIII. 5.
Footnote 5:
Whewell’s _Elements of Morality_, Preface to the 4th Edition.
Footnote 6:
Chap. i. 9.
Footnote 7:
Rom. ii. 15.
Footnote 8:
_Apol._ 1. 46.
Footnote 9:
See our Lord’s words, Matt. vii. 9, 10.
Footnote 10:
There can be no doubt that δεισιδαιμονεστέρους = valde religiosos.
Footnote 11:
Acts xvii. 22-31.
CHAPTER I.
THE STOIC SCHOOL OF PHILOSOPHY.
Ἀνακάμπτων δὲ ἐν τῇ ποικίλῃ στοᾷ τῇ καὶ Πεισιανακτείᾳ καλουμένῃ, ἀπὸ
δὲ τῆς γραφῆς τῆς Πολυγνώτου, ποικίλῃ, διέθετο τοὺς λόγους...
Προσῄεσαν δὴ λοιπὸν ἀκούοντες αὐτοῦ καὶ διὰ τοῦτο Στωϊκοὶ ἐκλήθησαν,
καὶ οἱ ἀπ’ αὐτοῦ ὁμοίως, πρότερον Ζηνώνειοι καλούμενοι.
Diog. Laert. _vit. Phil._ Lib. VII. 6, 7.
Zeno was born at Cittium, a small city in the island of Cyprus, founded
by Phœnicians, but inhabited by Greeks. His father, who was a merchant,
finding his son attracted to the study of philosophy, allowed him to
follow his bent. From Athens, whither he had often occasion to go for
commercial purposes, the father frequently brought home for his son many
writings of the Socratic school of philosophers. Zeno read these with
great eagerness and was enchanted with the views which they unfolded.
When he was about thirty years of age he made a voyage, probably of
business and pleasure combined, to the city which was at once the home
of the philosophers who had so delighted him by their works, and a great
centre of trade. The story goes that he was shipwrecked on the coast and
lost a valuable cargo of Phœnician purple which he had brought with him.
Others say he did not lose his property when he first came to Athens,
but was, on the contrary, abounding with wealth. The former version of
the story would account to those who questioned the disinterestedness of
his conduct, for his having attached himself to a sect that professed to
despise riches. On his first arrival, having read, at a bookseller’s
stall, a few pages of Xenophon’s _Memorabilia_, he formed a high opinion
of the author of a work which so pleased him, and asked the bookseller
where such men were to be found. Crates, the Cynic, happened to pass at
the time, and the bookseller replied, “Follow that man.” Zeno acted on
the advice, placed himself under the Cynic philosopher’s instruction,
and enrolled himself among his disciples; but he did not long remain so.
He became disgusted with the manner of the sect, which he found too
gross and unrefined for his taste; though at the same time he highly
admired their general principles and spirit. Besides, the activity of
his mind forbad him to abstain from all scientific enquiry, and
indifference to science was a marked characteristic of the Cynics. He
became a disciple of the Megaric doctrine, and thought to learn the
nature and causes of things. He attended the school of Stilpo, the chief
teacher of practical philosophy among the Megaric succession, who
declared that the sovereign good was impassivity (ἀπάθεια). Zeno was
pleased with the teaching of this school. To Crates, his former master,
who, being angry at his desertion, endeavoured to draw him by force from
his new teacher, he exclaimed, “You may seize my body, but Stilpo has
laid hold of my soul.” Becoming tired of this teacher after some years,
he turned to Diodorus Cronus, who taught him Dialectics, and to Philo;
both of these being contemporary Megarics with Stilpo. He also studied
under Xenocrates and Polemo, who were expositors of Platonic philosophy;
and from the Academics he learnt much, for we can perceive a germ of
Stoicism in the Platonic philosophy. But he found much in their teaching
also contradictory to his own theories. When he came to Polemo, that
teacher, with an insight into his disposition, said to him, “I am no
stranger to your Phœnician arts, Zeno; I see that you intend slily to
creep into my garden and steal my fruit.”
Being now, after twenty years’ study, well informed as to what others
could teach him, as he was either dissatisfied with all, or moved by
ambition, he determined to found a new school. The place chosen for his
teaching was a public portico, adorned with the paintings of Polygnotus
and other masters. Hence it was called ποικίλη στοά (the painted porch);
more commonly, as it was the most famous in Athens, it was simply called
στοά. From this arose the name of the Stoics. As a teacher, Zeno was
celebrated for subtle reasoning and for enjoining strict morality of
conduct. As a man, his conduct corresponded with his teaching. His
doctrines and manner of life teach us that he gathered much from various
systems. He gathered from Pythagoras and Plato and Aristotle by the
teaching of Xenocrates and Polemo, from the Megaric school by the
teaching of Stilpo, Diodorus Cronus, and Philo. Cicero, in his _Academic
Questions_, tells us that the doctrines of the old Academy were changed
by Zeno only in name. He adhered too to the Cynic doctrines, slightly
tinged by subsequent training perhaps, especially by Stilpo’s teaching
that the perfection of wisdom consisted in impassivity. But he did not
share in Cynic grossness, insolence, and affectation. He obtained the
applause and love of numerous disciples, among whom was Antigonus
Gonatas, king of Macedon, Cleanthes, and perhaps Chrysippus; though the
last may have been the disciple of Cleanthes only. To these two we must
refer again. The Athenians are said so to have respected Zeno that they
trusted to his keeping the keys of the citadel. This may be questioned;
but there is no reason to doubt that they honoured him with a golden
crown, that they gave him a public burial in the Ceramicus when he died,
and erected to his memory a statue of brass. By Cyprians and Sidonians,
to whom he was allied by descent, he was also held in reverence. He is
described as having been a thin withered man, of dark complexion, and
with his neck bent. He preserved his health, though naturally feeble, by
abstemious living. His diet, even when honoured by noble guests, as he
often was, consisted only of figs, bread, and honey. His brow, furrowed
with thought, and his look stern and hard, showed his Cynic education;
but, in contrast to his first teachers, he was neat and careful in his
dress and person. Frugal in his expenses, he was without avarice. He
conversed freely, with poor as with rich. He had only one servant;
Seneca says, none at all.
Though he was proverbially sober and chaste, he was assailed by various
enemies in his lifetime. Arcesilaus and Carneades of the New Academy,
and in his latter years, Epicurus, who disliked the philosophy and pride
of Zeno, were his powerful antagonists. Little credit is due, however,
to the abuse which passed on both sides. He lived to old age. When he
died is matter of doubt. He is said to have been alive in the 130th
Olympiad. In his 98th year, as he was leaving his school, he stumbled
and fell, and broke one of his fingers in the fall. Pain so affected him
that he exclaimed, striking the earth, Ἔρχομαι, τί μ’ ἀΰεις; “I come,
why dost thou call me?” He went home and strangled himself, about the
year B.C. 260.
In trying, at the present day, to estimate the teaching of Zeno, it is
necessary for us to consider the circumstances of the age in which he
lived and taught, and to remember also that it is difficult to find out
how much of the later Stoic philosophy really came from him. His
writings were numerous[12], but they are lost. His teaching seems to
have been modified, and sometimes even changed altogether, by
Chrysippus. Indeed the later professed disciples of the school seldom
went back to the works of the first Stoic. Let us, as well as we can,
however, lay hold of the circumstances in which he was placed as a
philosopher, and the alterations he introduced.
He began his course at a time of decay in Greece, and when the mind of
men was become sceptical as to all things in heaven and earth.
Philosophers had so quarrelled with one another’s dogmas, and proved one
another wrong so often, that men began to doubt if there were any
foundation on which to rest. GOD was educating the world for the
reception of the great truths of revelation. He did this by showing men
how helpless they were in divine things by their own unaided nature, how
contradictory their speculations, how far short of the truth the highest
attainments of human intellects, how uncertain it was which was truth of
the various theories proposed, so that men doubted about all truth. Zeno
under these circumstances did a great work in educating the world still
further, and preparing it for the great Truth. He was to the people of
his day in some degree what Socrates was to the men of his age. He
brought back the influence of reason and common sense, rescuing them
from the Pyrrhonists, as Socrates did from the Sophists. Like the son of
Sophroniscus, also, the founder of the Stoics turned men from mere
speculation to action. Socrates taught men to look within themselves,
and created a desire to live as became them. He was an ethical reformer,
and so turned men away from the guesses of a so-called philosophy, and
from the scepticism consequent on failure. Victor Cousin has well said,
“La philosophie Grecque avait été d’abord une philosophie de la nature;
arrivée à sa maturité elle change de caractère et de direction et elle
devient une philosophie morale, sociale, humaine. C’est Socrate qui
ouvre cette nouvelle ère et qui en représente le caractère en sa
personne.” Plato followed him in this. His fundamental problem was how
man might live like GOD. Aristotle turned men’s thoughts back again to
physics and metaphysics; and then came a period of systematic
scepticism, by which the vanity of the guesses of philosophy was exposed
and derided. Zeno and Epicurus, so different in other respects, yet both
brought men back to a better mind by teaching them that philosophy was
the art of living aright rather than merely thinking aright; the former,
because living aright was in accordance with nature,—the latter, because
it made men happy, and happiness was the great end to be sought by
all[13]. Zeno and Epicurus both had thus their share in training men to
receive the great Truth of GOD; for they both proved that man of himself
can do nothing but conceive of perfections that human nature alone
cannot reach: while the believer in divine love and mercy learns to say
with St Paul, “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth
me.”
I have before intimated that Zeno has been said to have borrowed much of
his philosophy from former masters, giving the truths new names. The
various schools which at different times prevailed in Greece, amidst
much contradiction, yet contained some germs of truth, and therefore so
far had some agreement one with the other. But the truth was cumbered
with so much rubbish that it was overpowered and hidden. These various
schools of thought endeavoured to grasp the same object from different
standpoints, and opposed all others. The Ionics looked around them, and
from external objects tried to make one natural law for all subjects and
combinations. They wished to reduce all things to accord with a settled
physical law. They aimed at discovering a principle, a substance, of
which every thing that exists is a combination. The Mathematical school
reasoned from within themselves. As Thales looked on the external
universe and thence turned within, so Pythagoras reasoned on external
objects from within himself, from mental harmonies to physical. Then
came the Eleatics, contradicting even reason itself. Zeno, the Eleatic,
argued against motion and sensible unity. Parmenides declared that
“thought and being are the same;” that “thought and that for which
thought exists are one.” Indeed the great maxim of the school was τὰ
πάντα ἕν. They taught that the sensible universe was purely phenomenal
and accidental: that it was apparent, not real. The Megaric school,
which Zeno Citticus attended soon after he came to Athens, taught
somewhat similar doctrines, but in a dialectic form. Their tenets, Pliny
tells us, produced in daily life, “rigorem quendam torvitatemque naturæ
duram et inflexibilem.” I have already said that Stilpo placed the
height of wisdom in impassivity. These doctrines, so various, so
contradictory to reason oftentimes, made many men professedly sceptics.
Pyrrho and his followers, having proved the impossibility of a science
superhuman in its height being reached by unaided man, supposed they had
destroyed all knowledge and certainty whatever. The state of Athens then
was particularly unsatisfactory. Old creeds were tottering. The
spiritual life of Greece was decaying, as was its national. Men wanted
some refuge from the distractions of their minds. Their spiritual
nature, their soul, began to exert its power, to speak in tones that
would be heard. The mind had been trying to still its craving with the
noble but unsatisfying theories of Plato, or the subtleties of
Aristotle. But the soul, the inner life, had been uncared for. Now it
claimed its share of attention and new schools arose to satisfy, as far
as they could, the newly felt longings.
At such a time, Zeno founded his system. When Greece was tottering and
falling into ruin, out of materials which I have shown to be so
contradictory, he built up a structure which outlasted Greece, and was
removed (altered a little, but in the main the same), to the new centre
of the civilization and power of the world. His system lasted from his
day to the time of Marcus Aurelius. It was embraced by the Romans with
eagerness, as being congenial with their nature, before they became
corrupted by their unrivalled prosperity. When at length it had done its
destined work in the world, it yielded to a mightier and holier
influence; leaving, however, its impress on the souls of men, even as,
before its own decay, it received some of the rays of divine light which
came from heaven with the Son of GOD, though it did not acknowledge the
boon.
It would be beside the purpose of the present essay to enter into all
the specialities of the Zenonic doctrines; or to enquire at large, how
far Zeno differed from Plato, or how nearly he agreed with Aristotle, in
defining the manner of perception by the mind. We need not discuss τὴν
καταληπτικὴν φαντασίαν, which Sextus Empiricus alleges to have been held
by Zeno and his successors as the one means of judging true from false;
respecting which even Cleanthes and Chrysippus differed[14]. An outline
of the main features of the system will be sufficient. As I have before
said, the first Stoic fixed his thoughts chiefly on moral conduct. His
philosophy was eminently practical. It referred to the daily life. In
order to stem the torrent of scepticism and sensuality, he taught men
the value, the absolute necessity, of virtue. They were to apply his
dogmas to their daily experience. They were not to speculate, but to
act; not to doubt, but to dare. He taught them also that what Socrates
had said was true, that the knowledge and practice of good was virtue
and wisdom, that vice was therefore error in its worst form. In order to
induce men to conform to this knowledge in their way of life, he
unfolded to them how they were related to the universe.
Every rational theory respecting the universe admits of an Absolute
Being of some sort. The difference begins, when the relation of the
universe with the Absolute Infinite is explained and unfolded. One
theory would distinguish the Infinite from the universe, but make him
act from a kind of necessity. A second theory would allow him to act
with perfect freedom of will. A third theory would make the universe
itself to be the Absolute Infinite; and a fourth would insist that the
Infinite Being is matter, of which the universe is only a modification.
Zeno seems to have taught the third of these theories; though in after
writers we see traces of the first. According to him, there existed from
all eternity a chaos, a confused mass, ὕλη πρώτη, which contained the
germ of all future things. Gradually, order supervened and creation
assumed forms of various kinds, resulting in the universe as it is now.
The universe is one whole, which comprises all things; yet contains a
passive principle, matter, τὸ πάσχον, and an active principle, τὸ
ποιοῦν, which is reason, or GOD. The soul of man is part of this divine
nature, and will be reabsorbed into it and lose its individual
existence. The Deity in action, if we may so speak, is a certain active
æther, or fire, possessed of intelligence. This first gave form to the
original chaos, and, being an essential part of the universe, sustains
it in order. The overruling power, which seems sometimes in idea to have
been separated from the Absolute Being, was εἱμαρμένη, fate, or absolute
necessity. To this the universe is subject, both in its material and
divine nature. Men return to life totally oblivious of the past, and by
the decrees of fate are possessed of a renovated existence, but still in
imperfection and subject to sorrow as before. The tenets of the later
Stoics may have been tinged with Christian truth on this point, as on
others; but they had none of the noble hope of the Christian ἀνάστασις.
Indeed, respecting their dogma, Seneca said, “This renewal of life many
would reject, were it not that their restored existence is accompanied
with utter forgetfulness of the past.”
On their physical principles, the moral principles of the Stoics
depended. Conceiving themselves to be part of universal nature, that
their souls were part of the divinity which actuated matter, they held
themselves in some measure to be gods. In human life therefore they must
follow nature, of which they formed part. But then this _nature_ was not
this or that man’s natural leaning, but the laws of fate and the
universal course of things, from which resulted the unsuitableness of
certain courses, and the excellence of others. To be conformed to the
laws of the universe, of which they formed an essential part, was the
ultimate end of life. Every man conforming to these laws is happy,
notwithstanding external evils. Every man’s happiness, then, is in his
own power; he is a god to himself in some measure. To live according to
his true nature is to live godly; godly life is virtue. This is itself
true happiness, independently of pleasure in the common acceptation of
the term; because the supreme good is to follow what the law of nature
points out as being good. Virtue having its seat in the soul, outward
circumstances cannot reach the good man. As he can distinguish good from
evil, he is wise; and this suffices for him. External things, forasmuch
as they cannot reach him, can neither increase his happiness or cause
him misery. Even torture cannot move him, because it cannot reach his
inner, true nature. There is no distinction between different virtues as
to degree, because they owe their existence to their accordance with
nature. All vices are equal in degree, because they run counter to the
one law of virtue. These seem to have been the principal features of
Zeno’s teaching. His morality partook of the evil of its origin. It was
essentially artificial. Little regard was paid to real nature in the
pursuit of what was called natural law: there was little common sense,
oftentimes, in the ideas set forth under pretence of philosophy.
We cannot lose sight of the fact, however, that Stoicism, as it came in
contact with Christianity, was a system that owed much to Cleanthes, and
still more to Chrysippus. Indeed, regarding the latter, we are told[15]
that it was said, Εἰ μὴ γὰρ ἦν Χρύσιππος, οὐκ ἂν ἦν στοά. The former was
the earnest Stoic; the latter the philosophical and dialectic setter
forth of the system. Under his hands, in his various and most copious
writings, the system was probably not merely developed, but materially
modified in some respects, and systematized. Cleanthes has left few
records of his opinions behind him: but his Hymn to Jupiter will ever
stand as a marvellous memorial of his worth and intellect. It bears
strong evidence to the Monotheism of the system which he espoused. It
has been a matter of controversy whether the Stoics were monotheists, or
polytheists. The hymn to which I have just referred, and to which I
shall refer again in another chapter, bears strong evidence, on the face
of it, to the belief in one absolute supreme being. Yet other passages
in many Stoic writers would seem to convey a different idea. But it will
be well for us not to forget that the system was founded on a notion of
the divine nature totally different from our conception of a divine
being. The monotheism of some of the Stoic writers may have been the
result of previous education. The fact may be that one, or two, rose to
higher conceptions of the Eternal, than others were privileged with.
This may have resulted from their having come of a different stock[16],
and having had a different early bent—a deeper intuition, as it were, by
nature—a purer speculation as to the unseen—than those with which others
of the sect were endowed. Those who were of a stock which deified almost
all things, might carry their phantasies into the system itself. And
indeed it is possible that the same persons, under different influences,
may have had rather varied views of the hidden world. The system was one
of ethics and not of speculative philosophy. And if Christianity, with
all its divine testimonials and influences, does not bring all minds
into one accord about all things—even those who are of one school of
theology varying in opinion on certain points—how very probable it is
that men of the same school of philosophy, with merely the authority of
one man, neither possessing, nor claiming a divine mission as founder,
should have somewhat different shades of thought. How possible it is
that they should, while viewing things from different points of view, be
almost inconsistent with themselves. This kind of inconsistency was
urged again and again against Chrysippus, the most voluminous writer and
chief dialectician of the Stoics. Cleanthes has left few memorials
behind him, but his earnest pursuit of knowledge, his struggles to
obtain the time and means of study, show the pre-eminent zeal of the
man. This zeal was the great motive of his life. Possessed of a strong
frame, of great powers of endurance, we are told that he earned by night
what enabled him to live in study by day. His determination was so
strong that he even made use of potsherds and bones as his note-tablets.
Such a man would impress his earnestness on the system he espoused. His
disciple, Chrysippus, does not seem to have possessed his earnestness of
purpose to find out the truth, so much as to establish the system and
wage war in its favour against all adversaries. We have remarked that
some inconsistencies of doctrine were alleged against him. These appear
to have been owing to his desire to reconcile irreconcilable things; as,
divine sovereignty with human freedom in any respect:—universal goodness
in the ordering of nature with the presence of moral evil in the world.
Such subjects must always remain mysteries. He who will explain them
will be inconsistent either with himself or with truth.
I shall proceed, in another chapter, to place the system of Zeno,
Cleanthes, and Chrysippus (that is, Stoicism as it came, in its
perfected condition, into contact with divine truth) side by side with
the doctrines and precepts taught us in the religion of Christ. We shall
see much to admire, much to lament in the sect that wished to raise the
individual almost to the level of the deity, and yet showed, by the
suicides of the first two of its founders, and by other proofs of human
error, the fallacy on which the system was built, that man himself is
part of the divinity, and so has only to act on his own influence to
rise to perfection.
Footnote 12:
Diog. Laert. enumerates and quotes many of his writings.
Footnote 13:
“Le caractère commun de Stoïcisme et de l’Epicuréisme est de réduire
presque entièrement la philosophie à la morale.”—V. COUSIN.
Footnote 14:
Cleanthes said that it was τύπωσις ἐν ψυχῇ, an impression made on the
soul, similar to that of a stamp on molten wax, τοῦ κηροῦ τύπωσιν:
while Chrysippus said it was a ἑτερείωσις, or modification of the soul
itself.
Footnote 15:
By Diog. Laert. Lib. VII. c. VII. § V.
Footnote 16:
I cannot refrain from quoting here the following excellent remarks on
the origin of many Stoic philosophers who had great influence on the
system, from the article, “The Ancient Stoics,” in the _Oxford Essays_
of 1858, by Sir Alexander Grant, Bart.: “If we cast our eyes on a list
of the early Stoics and their native places, we cannot avoid noticing
how many of this school appear to have come of an Eastern and often of
a Semitic stock. Zeno, their founder, was from Cittium, in Cyprus, by
all accounts of a Phœnician family. Of his disciples Persæus came also
from Cittium; Herillus was from Carthage; Athenodorus from Tarsus;
Cleanthes from Assos, in the Troad. The chief disciples of Cleanthes
were Iphœrus of the Bosphorus, and Chrysippus from Soli in Cilicia.
Chrysippus was succeeded by Zeno of Sidon, and Diogenes of Babylon.
The latter taught Antipater of Tarsus; who taught Panælius of Rhodus;
who taught Posidonius of Apamea in Syria. There was another
Athenodorus, from Cana, in Cilicia; and the early Stoic Archedemus is
mentioned by Cicero as belonging to Tarsus. When we notice the
frequent connexion of Cilicia with this list of names, we may well be
reminded of one who was born at Tarsus, in Cilicia, a citizen of no
mean city; and we may be led to ask, is there not something in the
mental characteristics of the early Stoics analogous to his?”