All sins are equal.
392. That ‘the affections must be extirpated[149]’ ceases to be a paradox, as soon as we have defined affections as states of mind contrary to reason, and have made room for the ‘reasonable affections’ of caution, good will, and joy[150]. That ‘all sins are equal[151]’ remains still, as of old, a stumbling block[152]. Yet this Socratic paradox has a simple interpretation; it is a protest against the light-heartedness which tolerates ‘petty’ acts of wrongdoing, and is indifferent to the evil habits of mind thus acquired[153]. Two of the Stoic teachers of the transition period, Heraclides of Tarsus and Athenodorus, are said to have abandoned the paradox[154], and all Stoics were ready to admit that sins are ‘unlike’[155]. But, as usual, the main body held firmly to a doctrine in which they had discovered a real practical value. Just the same principle is expressed by other paradoxes, as that ‘he who has one vice has all, though he may not be equally inclined to all[156]’; and again that ‘he who is not wise is a fool and a madman[157].’
Sin is curable.
393. In spite of the parallelism of virtue and vice the latter is destined to subordination, not only in the history of the universe, but also in the individual man. Even if sins are equal, vice as ill health of the soul has degrees. The first ‘rufflings’ of the soul are, as we have seen, not to be reckoned as real evils; its ‘perturbations’ give the hope of a coming calm; and grievous though its ‘diseases’ are, we have no suggestion of incurable sin, or of the hopeless offender. Even he who has most fallen retains the germs of virtue, and these may again ripen under a proper discipline[158].
Stoic austerity.
394. The attitude of the Stoic school towards sin and weakness exposed it, as we have seen, to constant criticism and ridicule. To some extent this was due to the profession of philosophy in itself: for every such profession implied some claim to clearer knowledge and more consistent action than that of the crowd[159]. But the Stoics also sought to be ‘austere’ with regard to social pleasures, and thus it seemed that they neither offered others a share in their own happiness nor sympathetically partook in that of others[160]; whilst at the same time they claimed exemption from the weaknesses and failings of their neighbours. We have seen both Seneca and Epictetus anxious to meet criticism on these points by laying stress on those touches of natural feeling in which wise and foolish alike share. But in addressing the members of the sect their tone is very different; they hold out, as a prize worth the winning, the prospect of attaining to that calm and unchanging disposition of mind which has for ever left behind the flutterings of fear and greed, of grief and hilarity, and which is attuned to reason alone[161]. Epictetus indeed often expresses elation and pride upon this theme:
‘I will show the sinews of a philosopher. What are these? A desire (ὄρεξις) never disappointed, an aversion (ἔκκλισις) which never meets with that which it would avoid, a proper pursuit (ὁρμή), a diligent purpose (πρόθεσις), an assent which is not rash. These you shall see[162].’
‘Men, if you will attend to me, wherever you are, whatever you are doing, you will not feel sorrow, nor anger, nor compulsion, nor hindrance, but you will pass your time without perturbations and free from everything. When a man has this peace (not proclaimed by Caesar, for how should he be able to proclaim it?) but by God through reason, is he not content when he reflects—Now no evil can happen to me[163]?’