STOICISM IN COMPARISON WITH CHRISTIANITY.
Ἐν τῇ σοφίᾳ τοῦ Θεοῦ, οὐκ ἔγνω ὁ κόσμος διὰ τῆς σοφίᾳς τὸν Θεόν.
1 _Ep. ad Cor._ 1. 21.
Our way is now plain to compare this system of philosophy, which has
thus been sketched, with the teaching of Christianity. We shall see, if
we place the address of St Paul on Mars’ Hill as the foundation of our
thought, how much the Christian Apostle had in common with the Stoic
teachers. As we go further and ask ourselves the foundations on which
the tenets of the religion of Jesus, and those of the philosophy of
Zeno, rest, we shall see that herein they widely differ. It will be our
work, in order to distinguish the two things to be compared, again to
refer to the address to the Athenians: and although an exhaustive
commentary on that address would be out of place here; yet the subject
seems to claim that we refer to certain parts somewhat minutely.
We cannot fail to be struck with the fact that, first of all, the
Apostle wished to draw the minds of his hearers, from themselves and all
surrounding objects, to one great and supreme Creator and Governor of
the world. This infinite Being he shows to be a distinct personal
existence, separate from and superior to all things; yet one who
concerns Himself intimately with the affairs of men. He is not a
something vivifying and permeating all things, and forming part of the
essence of all things. He is the great first cause of all, and existed
before and independently of all. The Apostle implies that none of the
guesses of the wisest among his hearers had reached the truth. Yet they
had been feeling after Him, as men in the dark try to feel their way to
light. They had shown their conviction that there was a great GOD, to
the knowledge of whom they were strangers. To Him they had erected an
altar calling him by his title of Unknown. Thus St Paul appeals to deep
convictions impressed on their minds. At the same time, he does not
shrink from showing that GOD does not require men’s help, nor love the
worship of idolators; though the announcement ran counter to strong
prejudices, deeply seated in the minds of his hearers. Men, he told
them, are the offspring of GOD. They should therefore render him the
intelligent and loving service due from children to a wise and
beneficent parent. Now in this great view of truth there was presented
to the Stoic much that he could agree with, and yet a great deal opposed
to, or in advance of, his preconceived notions. The idea of the
philosopher had been of a supreme power which was a principle rather
than a person. Looking at himself, in connexion with the universe, he
had not thought it impious to consider himself a very part of this
divine essence, rather than a creature made by the divine power. Hence
he had not a humbling sense of his nothingness in comparison with the
Eternal. His philosophy rather gave him a feeling of pride, from the
conviction of his individual worth and greatness, as an essential part
of the great supreme. He did not see that there was a mighty Being, a
self-existent _Person_, infinitely removed in power and nature from all
that he has made; and that by Him men are cared for and loved, as the
members of a vast family, of which he is the Creator and Father. And in
saying this, I do not lose sight of the fact that some of the Stoics, at
times, seem to have risen superior to their own doctrines, and to have
listened to the inner voice which whispered to them of the everlasting
Father. Whether it was from Aratus, or Cleanthes, that St Paul quoted,
in his address to the Athenians, yet we are forcibly reminded, by his
words, of the noble hymn of the second in the Stoic succession, a song
of praise almost unparalleled among the writings of heathen antiquity
for nobility of utterance and purity of thought. Addressing the chief of
the gods, who, he says, has many names and is the omnipotent prince of
nature, he sings:
“We are Thy offspring; and of living things we alone have the gift of
speech, the image of reason. Therefore I will for ever sing thee and
celebrate thy power. All this universe revolving round the earth obeys
thee, and willingly pursues its course at thy command. In thine
unconquerable hands thou holdest such a minister as the two-edged,
flaming, vivid thunderbolt. O King, most high, nothing is done without
thee, either in heaven, or on the earth, or in the sea, except what the
wicked do in their foolishness. Thou makest order out of confusion, and
what is worthless becomes precious in thy sight; for thou hast fitted
together good and evil into one, and hast set up one law that is
everlasting. But the wicked, unhappy ones, fly from thy law, and though
they desire to possess what is good, yet do they not see, nor do they
hear the universal law of GOD. If they would follow it with
understanding they might have a good life. But they go astray, each
after his own devices, some vainly ambitious of fame, others turning
aside after gain avariciously, others after riotous living and
wantonness. Nay, but, O Zeus, giver of all things, who dwellest in dark
clouds and rulest over the thunder, deliver men from their foolishness;
scatter it from their souls. Grant them also to obtain wisdom, for by
wisdom thou dost rightly govern all things; that being honoured we may
repay thee with honour, singing thy works without ceasing, as is right
for us to do. For there is no greater thing than this, either for mortal
men, or for the gods, to sing aright the universal law.”
One cannot fail to be struck with the marvellous insight into the
holiest truths revealed in these lines. A candid mind must acknowledge
with thankfulness how graciously GOD was training the mind of man for
the reception of the mystery of godliness unfolded in the Gospel. This
fact St Paul acknowledged. He told the Athenians that he was come to
bring them further intelligence of a Being, whom they, as the words of
some of their poets proved, acknowledged as the Lord and Father of all;
whom they were desirous of knowing more fully. Yet if we read the
writings of the Stoics we cannot but be saddened by the reflection that
such views of God were exceptional; that such desires to know more of
him were evanescent, if they existed at all in the minds of some. These
feelings were the work of some inner power, not the result of their
system of philosophy. The theory of the universe which this system
taught was one that did not bow down the human soul in humble obedience
and in abasement before the Almighty; but rather caused a sense of pride
and self-dependence at variance with this feeling. Hence we meet with
such expressions as we find urged against the sect by Plutarch[17], who
informs us that Chrysippus said that “the sage is not less useful to
Zeus than Zeus is to the sage.” Similarly, how often are there recurring
in various forms such a sentiment as we find, for instance, in Marcus
Antoninus[18], ὅτι ὁ ἑκάστου νοῦς Θεὸς, καὶ ἐκεῖθεν ἐρρύηκε. While this
was a cause of pride, it was also one of sadness. Each man felt, in a
great measure, left to himself. He was an atom broken off from a vast
whole, and would, bye and bye, be restored to his former union. But he
did not feel in this life that there was an intimate personal loving
union with a wise and holy being, who was his personal friend and
father.
This brings us to another point in which Christianity and Stoicism were
a contrast, yet at first sight not very far removed one from the other.
Both allowed and taught an universal law, by which all nature and all
events are regulated; but while the one teaches that this universal law
is the wisdom of an infallible Lord constantly superintending and
ordering all things well, the other held that all things were arranged
according to the decrees of a blind and unalterable fate. The Apostle of
Christ taught the Athenians that there was no truth in the wild
speculation of the Epicurean, who held that all things happened by
chance: but he brought before them, as a ruler, a being full of
intelligence and constantly superintending the course of events; not
some inexorable fate. He told them of one who, having created of one
blood all nations that dwell on the face of the earth, arranged the
period of their existence and fixed the bounds of their habitation. And
He did this all in wisdom, with the intention that all men might seek
Him, and find their happiness in the knowledge of His goodness and by
participating in His love. Contrasted with this was the doctrine of
fatalism which the Stoics taught. All things proceeded, they said, from
destiny, which was omnipotent. To its decrees both gods and men must
bow. From its power not the highest even were exempt. This destiny was
“the law according to which what has been, has been; what is, is; and
what shall be, shall be[19].” Instead of an overruling Providence
constantly superintending the affairs of the universe, there was a law
binding the highest God, as well as the lowest in creation. So we read
in Seneca (_De Providentia_, cap. VI.): “Eadem necessitas et Deos
alligat. Irrevocabilis divina pariter atque humana cursus vehit. Ille
ipse omnium conditor ac rector scripsit quidem Fata, sed sequitur.
Semper paret, semel jussit.” The Stoical doctrine then was that GOD
himself is a servant to the necessity of the material scheme; that He is
bound by eternal decrees; that he could not have created an atom
different from what it is, and cannot change anything merely according
to what He may will in the future. So Cicero quotes a Greek poet, and
puts these words as his meaning, “Quod fore paratum est, id summum
exuperat Jovem.” Indeed the first Stoics adopted this fatalism as their
belief, and seem to have held firmly as a truth, what Herodotus states,
δοῦλος Θεὸς ἀνάγκης. We shall see that this necessitarian scheme had an
influence, of no small extent, on certain parts of the Church of Christ
in after ages.
I must proceed here, however, to point out another aspect in which,
though they seem to have had the same end before them, namely, the
raising man to moral excellence, yet Christianity and Stoicism differed
entirely—the means whereby human perfection is to be attained.
Christianity pointed men to the way of humility and self-renunciation.
Stoicism pointed them to the perfectibility of man by his own exertion,
without trusting on divine aid. St Paul preached Jesus to the enquiring
minds of Greece; Jesus, as a Saviour—Jesus, as an Example to those who
would attain holiness of life—as a pattern of a perfect man. Now no
lesson is more plainly taught in the Gospel of Christ, than the truth
that penitence and humility are the necessary precursors of holiness and
true glory. The Stoic would look on repentance as a confession that he
had failed in his philosophy. It was no part of his scheme to lower
himself in order to rise. Much less had he any idea of trusting in
another’s merits, and in another’s self-sacrifice, in order to have any
chance at all of becoming perfect for ever. But then, his idea of
perfection was perfection as a philosopher in this life. The glorious
hope of an eternal future, in which he would take part as a purified
being, freed from all sin and defilement by the power of the omnipotent
Father, and by the furnace through which he had to pass in struggling
during a lifetime with temptation and with affliction, was no part of
his creed. Like the Christian, he had a lofty purpose, but his purpose
was confined to this life; to be conformed to the course of nature; to
rise by his philosophy to a region of indifference about outward things.
His end was attained, he thought, if he subdued his own nature; if he
learnt to bear, without flinching, whatever might cause him pain or
inconvenience; if what men commonly call natural feelings and affections
were done violence to, without compunction, that he might thus attain to
conformity with the rule of universal nature. All this he did, or
professed to do, of his own power. He did not require a power from on
high, to forgive his errors, and to give him strength to be virtuous.
Rather, he was to be virtuous as a means of making GOD propitious. Just
as Seneca says[20], “Inter bonos viros ac Deum amicitia est, conciliante
virtute.” So that between this system and the Christian doctrine, though
they both professedly inculcate a life of virtue and self-denial, there
is an impassable gulph. Stoicism raised pride in human excellence into a
part of its teaching. Indeed, the Stoic was, as has been justly
observed, a Pharisee among heathens. He prided himself upon being not as
others around him; upon being better and more exalted in virtue than
they; and therefore upon being nearer GOD, and more worthy of the love
of the Most High. Now Christianity goes on exactly the opposite
principle to this. She teaches men that they must obtain the divine
favour and aid, not by means of their innate superiority, but as the
means of rising to holiness and virtue. We cannot take any steps at all
in true moral excellence, till we are possessed of the love of GOD. This
is the foundation of Christian truth. The divine life must have its
beginning in repentance and renunciation of self, in deep humility and
consequent trust in divine aid, given to all who ask it for Christ’s
sake; because GOD is love. We shall see, nevertheless, that the views of
many Christians have been tinged with the Stoic belief, that by
self-mortification, and even by trying to uproot natural affections and
feelings, planted in man by GOD himself for wise ends, the human soul
renders herself worthier of the friendship of heaven. We hear St Paul,
however, setting before the Athenians this great duty, first of all,
that they feel and acknowledge themselves in error, in order to
amendment of life; and that they trust in the merits of another, in
order to atone for their own demerits. “He commandeth all men everywhere
to repent.” This was the testimony of the messenger of the true GOD.
From the mention of the resurrection of Jesus, immediately after this,
and the manner in which that resurrection is spoken of, it would seem
that St Paul gave the Athenians some particulars of the Redeemer’s life
and death either on Mars’ Hill or in the Agora. Now the life of Christ
would teach the Stoic, that true philosophy is not trying to eradicate
human feelings and instincts, but controlling them. Nothing is so
striking and so lovely in the divine life of the Son of GOD, as its
_humanity_. He is a “man with men,” in every sense of the word. He is
not ashamed to show ordinary human feelings. He was truly noble, yet not
the less meek and lowly. He was truly brave, yet did not think it
unworthy of himself to show how intensely he suffered. He was truly
resigned to the will of Heaven, yet thought it not contrary to right to
express his sorrow when he was bereaved. He dignified human sympathy by
even weeping with those that wept. How incomparably does this true
nobility rise above the Stoic apathy, which condemned such feelings, and
led Seneca, in an Epistle to Lucilius, to deprecate the indulgence of
grief for a friend’s loss. “I myself,” says he, “wept so immoderately
for Annæus Serenus, ... that I must, against my will, be reckoned among
the examples of those whom grief has overcome. Nevertheless, to-day I
condemn my error[21].” The last days of our Saviour’s life gave the
world a perfect example of true dignity; yet, we can see, he counted it
only fit, as a man, to show that he felt keenly reproach and pain. But
it was the Saviour’s death, and the reason for which his death was
deemed necessary by eternal justice, that took away for ever any
foundation for Stoic pride and self-dependence. Nothing less than this
was sufficient to atone for human error, and make it possible for man to
obtain pardon, and be restored to the divine image which he had lost. It
is thus he can become truly wise and lead a life worthy of himself as a
man. And by the divine aid he will be able to rise to greater heights of
self-control, than any to which pride of philosophy could raise him. The
Stoics claimed for the wise man that he is infallible and impassive,
that he is unmoved by outward events, with his mind ever in an even
state[22]. That which the Stoic dreamed of, the Christian may become,
but in a spiritual and far higher sense. There were those in the early
Church, and there have been many since, who showed themselves
philosophers indeed, “in honour and dishonour, in evil report and good
report: as deceivers, and yet true; as unknown, and yet well known; as
dying, and, behold, they lived; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as
poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing all
things[23].” The great Christian Apostle was able to say, “I have
learned, in whatever state I am, therewith to be content. I know both
how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all
things, I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound
and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ which
strengtheneth me[24].” In this last sentence is the real secret of all
true heroism. Christ is the source of true philosophy. He alone gives
true strength of mind: He can render the believer omnipotent for good.
“I can do all things,” says the Apostle; the power is from above,
however. Without GOD, the strongest becomes a child. This fact, that GOD
prepares the heart for virtue, and gives us strength to resist evil and
do good, takes away all cause for boasting from even the most advanced
in moral excellence. Whereas, the Stoic system, beginning and ending in
self, with nothing else to trust to, caused man to become proud of his
supposed advances. He thought even to become equal to the Most High.
Indeed, so far was this feeling carried, that we have from a disciple of
the system, such a boastful and (to our feeling) profane assertion as
the following. Seneca, writing to Lucilius, after persuading him to
diligently cultivate philosophy, says, then “Thou wilt excel all men,
nor will the gods much excel thee.... To the wise man his own age lies
open, as much as every age to GOD. There is one respect in which the
wise man may be said to excel GOD; the latter is fearless by the gift of
nature, the wise man by his own merits[25].”
We have one other point that requires attention in connexion with St
Paul’s speech, and that is the future state. He laid before the Stoics,
who heard him, the great fact of the existence of men, as individuals,
after death; and not merely their existence, but their having to appear
at the judgment seat of Christ, after being raised from the dead. The
whole of this was foreign to the Stoic system. They had nothing, in
their wisest speculations, approaching to these grand ideas, which the
Apostle unfolded to them as divine mysteries. The early Stoics held that
they would, after death, return to union with the universe. Their plan
for getting rid of evil and regenerating all things, was one of
periodical conflagrations. The Christian _anastasis_ was something which
unaided human intellects could not reach. Moreover, the future judgment
of men, if it could have been received by the Stoics, would have
modified their system in many respects. They would have had different
views of the deity, if they had felt that, after all, they were to stand
at his bar, to give an account of their words and works. They would have
had a different view of life and of death, if they had known that when
they ceased to live on earth, they would begin a new existence, in which
they would be happy, or miserable, according as they submitted to, or
rejected the will of GOD here. For the want of this great truth, their
system was shortsighted and, in some respects, evil. If death were the
end of man, as a separate person, why should it not be also held to be
under the control of each? In fact the great lesson to learn was to
become master in the last act, as well as in others. The system was not
a training for immortality. This life was the scene of battle and of
victory, to the Stoic. To the Christian, this life is the battle-field.
He is contented to wait till another state of existence, for victory and
peace. He can understand the meaning of the words of St Paul, “If in
this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most
miserable[26].” With the hope of the future before him, however, he is
content to suffer. He can bear suffering with fortitude, and can even
triumph over it. For him, “this light affliction, which is but for a
moment, worketh out a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory,
while he looks not at the things which are seen, but at the things which
are not seen.” The restoration of the body and soul to a state of
perfection opens before the mind a treasure in future, for which present
poverty is lightly borne. But to this glorious hope the Stoic was a
stranger. He lived for this world. His sufferings, his trials, must all
be borne unflinchingly, because only here would he bear them; only here
would he, an offshoot of the deity, dwell as such. Therefore it was
beneath him to say he suffered. He lived for himself, to raise himself
above others. He must despise what lowered his existence. He must
trample on pain. When the conflict was too severe, then the end also was
at his command, and he might leave a scene which he could adorn no
longer. Then there was an end to the whole matter[27]. The sublime
doctrines of the Gospel, however, which open a splendid future to the
virtuous soul, teach men a far different lesson. Moreover, the certainty
of a just judgment leads them to be careful, how they pass through a
scene, which is to them the only state of probation. They know that the
future will be pregnant with evil to them, if they neglect, or abuse the
time given to them for preparation. They look forward with no less
certainty to a reward for well doing. They are sure there will be no
mistake in the final adjudication. All these thoughts tend one way; to
the promotion of holiness of life, and to those acts of kindness and
charity, which are evidences of the love of GOD in the heart. These acts
the great Judge has promised to reward, as though they were done to
Himself. He says that, in that day, he will declare respecting each of
these deeds of love, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least
of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me[28].”
I have thus endeavoured to point out the distinctive features of the two
systems, where they came in contact. In the Christian religion, there is
presented to the mind a God of holiness and purity and almighty power, a
being who rules over all and works in man’s heart. In the Stoic
philosophy, the Supreme Being is rather an idea than a person; a part of
the universe, just as the soul is part of man. In the Christian system,
the Lord of all is represented as constantly exercising a wise and
judicious superintendence over all creation, blessing His works, and
with unerring foresight, arranging all things by His providence. In the
Stoic system, all things in heaven and earth were the subjects of an
unalterable fate. Christianity teaches men that moral excellence is to
be attained only by divine aid, and this aid is given to those who are
penitent and humble; who seek GOD first, and show their love to Him in
their lives. Stoicism taught that moral excellence was attainable by man
alone, and that he might, unaided, raise himself to perfection, and make
himself worthy of GOD. In the religion of Jesus, men are furnished with
glorious views of a future life. The world to come is presented to the
faithful, as a reward for virtue and piety. The resurrection of man, and
the final setting in order of the universe at the great day of
regeneration, when just judgment will be passed on good and evil angels
and men, are held out as the great facts of future ages. In the Stoic
philosophy, there is no future personal existence promised; and the
regeneration is to be by fire consuming, at certain cycles, the works of
the universe. Christianity had an influence on the later Stoics.
Where-ever we see, in the works of these philosophers, clearer views of
GOD, His providence, His work in the spirit; wherever we see clearer
perceptions of human depravity and need for divine aid; where we
perceive dawnings of hope of a future life for the soul; there we see,
if not the direct influence, yet at least the spirit of Christianity
making itself felt. On the other hand, if, in the Christian church, we
see the necessitarian theory taking possession of men’s belief; if we
perceive human pride asserting itself in raising moral virtues, or works
of self-denial, or self-imposed austerities, into the place of Christ’s
sacrifice, as the means of obtaining the divine favour; we shall not be
mistaken, if we say that, in these respects, the Church has borrowed
from the Porch, and departed from the simplicity of the Gospel.
Before I proceed to investigate the influence which the two systems have
exerted one on the other, I purpose to devote a few pages to the
consideration of the relative influence they have exerted on the world
at large. Let us compare what Stoic philosophy did for those nations
among whom it exerted an influence, with the effect which Christianity
has wrought on those who have embraced its tenets and acknowledged its
power. If we look at Athens, and ask ourselves what result the doctrines
of the Stoic school had there, we shall find that, after centuries of
effort, very little was effected for the benefit of our race. Doubtless
a strong impression was made on certain minds; but, as far as the masses
were concerned, the influence of the sect seems to have been small, and
the beneficial result very insignificant indeed. With regard to the
adherents of the system, we have little trustworthy information as to
whether, in private life, their practice corresponded with their public
professions. One is almost led, from their declarations that their
philosophy raised them above the law of conduct binding the common herd,
to suppose that, for some, the profession of being a Stoic was only a
cloak. There seem to have been among them, men of similar feelings to
the Antinomians of the Christian church. If a man were a philosopher, he
was out of the ordinary pale, and might be almost what else he liked.
The early Stoics were doubtless men of purer life than the masses around
them, yet, from the remarks of those who have written very favourably of
them, one is led to perceive that they were looked on more as professors
of a system of excellent ethical philosophy, than as strict adherents to
its precepts. Their principles were considered rather as intellectual,
than heartfelt. As an instance, we may notice what Diogenes Laertes
reports concerning Zeno. He says[29], “Παιδαρίοις τε ἐχρῆτο σπανίως,
ἅπαξ ἢ δίς που παιδισκαρίω τινὶ, ἵνα μὴ δοκοίη μισογύνης εἶναι.” Now one
must see that, if the record be true, then the purity of the Stoic was
not thorough, though he was better than others perhaps. If the report be
a myth, we perceive that in the writer’s opinion, gathered probably from
observation, the precepts of philosophy were not so very binding, but
that a professor of it might be none the less esteemed as a philosopher,
for acting, now and then, as an ordinary man. He evidently thought that
Zeno was not to be blamed, but rather commended, for showing,
occasionally, that he did not wish to be thought too austere. The dogmas
of this philosophy were public professions, but did not alter the heart,
and control the whole life. It was powerless, as a moral lever, to raise
the people. The masses remained idolatrous and deeply superstitious.
Indeed the philosophers themselves conformed to the prevailing worship,
and were not free from the prevailing superstitions. As ethical
reformers, they seemed to have despaired of raising men, except in small
numbers, to a better state. We look in vain for evidences of a
wide-spread philanthropy. In fact, the system was one of egoïsm; and
beginning in self, inculcating trust on self, it had no wide grasp of
the duty and love, which men owe one to another, as children of a common
Father.
If from Athens we go to Rome, and notice the effect produced when Stoic
influence was at its highest point and most wide-spread, we are saddened
by a similar absence of evidence that it effected any great
amelioration. We are led to see the truth of Niebuhr’s remarks[30]
respecting the state of the community, upon which Stoicism had exerted
all its power. “Viewed as a national, or political history, the history
of the Roman Empire is sad and discouraging in the last degree. We see
that things had come to a point, at which no earthly power could afford
any help: we now have the development of dead powers instead of that of
a vital energy.” The age of the greatest fame of Rome, when Augustus
ruled her destinies, and her power and wealth and wide-spread influence
were so vast, was not a happy one for the people. There was no
fellowship between men, uniting them in feeling and for mutual benefit.
Perhaps half the people were slaves and degraded, in the midst of
surrounding splendour. Arnold[31] has well described the moral
deficiency; “There were no public hospitals, no institutions for the
relief of the infirm and poor, no societies for the improvement of the
condition of mankind, from motives of charity. Nothing was done to
promote the instruction of the lower classes, nothing to mitigate the
evils of domestic slavery. Charity and general philanthropy were so
little regarded as duties, that it requires a very extensive
acquaintance with the literature of the time to find any allusion to
them.” As long as it had an influence, Stoicism taught men rather to
bear the evils of life with indifference, than to get rid of the evils
that were in the world, by schemes for the social happiness and moral
elevation of the people. So that superstition and grossest idolatry were
rampant, and vices of the most lamentable kind were indulged in, almost
without producing any shame.
In proportion as Christianity won its way, these things disappeared; and
in proportion to the purity of the Christian religion, and its freedom
from admixture of extraneous principles and influences, has been its
success in raising a fallen world. Whatever power Stoicism possessed for
good, the religion of Jesus also possessed, and in a higher degree. In
addition, it brought into play enormous and superhuman resources; high
and holy motives; and doctrines which originated in heaven, and partook
of the purity of their origin. The consequence has been marvellous. The
progress of this religion in face of opposition was such as to afford
ample proof of its divinity. And as it progressed, it proved its mission
by raising the fallen, blessing the wretched, despising not even the
most lowly, seeking the most sinful; that by miracles wrought in the
souls of men, it might show that it was fitted for the high mission
which it claimed. Men were no longer left to grovel in idolatry, and
consequent imitation in their lives of the conduct of the unholy beings
whom they worshipped. Like St Paul on Mars’ Hill, every true herald of
the cross has set before men a holy GOD, as the sole object of the
reverence and obedience of their hearts. They have been taught love to
GOD, as the highest duty of the creature; and as a consequence, love to
their fellow-men. Mutual kindness and charity have done marvels, in
removing the various calamities of this life; and where these have been
irremoveable, the efforts of the disciples of the Crucified One have
been put forth, to make them weigh less heavily on the sons of
affliction. The poor have been cared and provided for. To them the
gospel of mercy has been preached, and they have been taught to have
faith in a future life, in which the wrongs of this will be set right.
Christianity has brought civilization in its train. The marvellous
progress of men in these latter days may be traced to the exalting
influence of this noble creed, which builds again the ruins of the human
soul; and has nothing less for its object than man’s restoration to the
image of GOD. No one that reflects on the wonders it has produced; on
the efforts it has put forth for the regeneration of our race; on the
energy it still displays, in trying to give blessing and help to those
who sit in darkness, and are in need; on the success that has crowned
the efforts of the past, inciting to fresh ones for the future; can fail
to see the finger of GOD. We gratefully acknowledge that all praise is
due to Him for the gift of such grand means for raising a fallen world;
for a system, which “has the promise of the life which now is, as well
as of that which is to come.”
By these remarks, I am far from wishing to imply that there is not much
to lament in Christian countries, or that since Christianity has been
acknowledged and professed by a great part of the world, she has
succeeded in making even the noblest of her sons faultless and sinless.
Only one such man has ever trod our earth, and He was more than man, and
shewed His divinity in the midst of human weakness and pain. All others
are liable to error. And we must confess that, when we see the evils
still remaining in Christendom, there is room for sadness; but there is
none for despair.
Moreover, no one would depreciate the Stoic system, because its
disciples did not act up to its precepts, in every respect. Epictetus
declared[32], there were many who were philosophers in name, far from
being so in deed; and Seneca assures us[33], that Stoic philosophers
“did not say how they themselves lived, but how men ought to live.” Yet
I quite agree with Gataker[34], that there were well-attested instances,
in almost every age, of adherents to the system, who, by their faithful
observance of their principles in the conduct of their lives, might put
to shame many professors of Christianity, and cause them to blush.
But I have been speaking of the effect of each system, as a whole, on
nations and masses of men, and on individuals. And we see that Stoicism,
after centuries of effort, proved itself unequal to the regeneration of
men, and as completely failed as any other merely human scheme, in this
respect. We should keep in mind, that systems are not relatively
superior in proportion to the adherence of their disciples. Unwavering
obedience, on the part of certain of its followers, does not necessarily
imply the excellence of a system; it simply proves that some of its
disciples are faithful. On the contrary, the excellence of a system is
seen, when it does a great work and raises a fallen world, in spite of
the apparent inadequacy of its means; in spite of the luke-warm
attachment and want of consistency, often displayed by its followers. In
this way, the more than human perfection of Christianity has been shown.
If her children had been as faithful to her, as many of the Stoics were
to their school, she had, ere this, made our earth a paradise. Even as
things are, notwithstanding the introduction, into her midst, of
doctrines and practices, foreign to her in origin, and opposed to her
principles; notwithstanding the many shortcomings of her friends, and
the unceasing opposition of her foes, and the resistance ever offered by
the pride of man’s heart to her humbling doctrines; she carries on her
glorious work successfully, and proves herself equal to her destined
purpose.
Footnote 17:
_Adversus Stoicos_, 33.
Footnote 18:
Lib. XII. Cap. 26, collat. quoq. v. 10.
Footnote 19:
Plutarch, _De Placitis Philosophorum_, I. 28.
Footnote 20:
_De Providentia_, Cap. 1.
Footnote 21:
“Hæc tibi scribo, is qui Annæum Serenum, carissimum mihi, tam immodice
flevi, ut quod minime velim, inter exempla sim eorum quos dolor vicit:
hodie tamen factum meum damno,” &c.—_Ep._ LXIII. 12.
Footnote 22:
φασὶ δὲ καὶ ἀπαθῆ εἶναι τὸν σοφὸν, κ.τ.λ.—Diog. Laert. VI. 1. 64.
Footnote 23:
2 Cor. vi. 8-10.
Footnote 24:
Phil. iv. 11-13.
Footnote 25:
“Omnes mortales multo antecedes, non multo te dii antecedent....
Tantum sapienti sua, quantum Deo, omnis ætas patet. Est aliquid, quo
sapiens antecedat Deum: ille naturæ beneficio non timet, suo
sapiens.”—_Ep._ LIII.
Footnote 26:
1 Cor. xv. 19.
Footnote 27:
On this part the following words of Cousin are worthy of attention:
“Le Stoïcisme est essentiellement solitaire: c’est le soin exclusif de
son âme, sans regard à celles des autres; et comme la seule chose
importante est la pureté de l’âme, quand cette pureté est trop en
péril, quand on désespère d’être victorieux dans la lutte, on peut la
terminer, comme l’a terminée Caton. Ainsi la philosophie n’est plus
qu’un apprentissage de la mort, et non de la vie; elle tend à la mort
par son image, l’apathie et l’ataraxie, et se résout définitivement en
son egoïsme sublime.”
Footnote 28:
St Matt. xxv. 40.
Footnote 29:
Lib. VII. c. 1. §. XIII.
Footnote 30:
Lect. v. 194.
Footnote 31:
_Later Roman Commonwealth_, II. 398.
Footnote 32:
Ἄνευ τοῦ πράττειν, μέχρι τοῦ λέγειν. Quoted by Gataker from Gellius,
_Noct. Attic._ 17, 19.
Footnote 33:
“Non dicebant, quemadmodum ipsi viverent, sed quemadmodum vivendum
esset.”—Seneca, _de Vit. Beat._ c. 18.
Footnote 34:
The words of Gataker, in the Preface to his _Marc. Anton._, are:
“Veruntamen ex eis qui sectæ hujus in disciplinam serio seduloque sese
dederunt, per singulas quasque fere ætates reperti sunt, qui fide
dignorum scriptorum suffragiis consensu consono attestantibus, ita
dogmata sua factis consentaneis consignata, decretaque vitæ instituto
æquabili fere comprobata exhibuerint, ut nominis etiam Christiani
professoribus plerisque pudorem incutere, ruborem suffundere merito
queant.”