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.
CHAPTER II.
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.”