Chapter X: Part II: The Ethical Systems (3)

The subject deserves a place in an Ethical treatise, because of its connexion with virtue and with happiness. Several questions have been debated concerning Friendship,--Is it based on likeness or unlikeness? Can bad men be friends? Is there but one species of Friendship, or more than one? (I.) Some progress towards a solution of these questions may be made by considering what are the objects of liking; these are the good, the pleasant, the useful. By the good is not meant the absolute good of Plato, but the apparent good. Inanimate things must be excluded, as wanting reciprocation (II.). The varieties of friendship follow these three modes of the likeable. The friendships for the useful and the pleasant, are not disinterested, but self-seeking; they are therefore accidental and transitory; they do not involve intimate and frequent association. Friendship for the good, and between the virtuous, is alone perfect; it is formed slowly, and has the requisites of permanence. It occurs rarely (III.). As regards the useful and the pleasant, the bad may be friends. It may happen that two persons are mutually pleasant to each other, as lover and beloved; while this lasts, there is friendship. It is only as respects the good, that there exists a permanent liking for the person. Such friendship is of an absolute nature; the others are accidental (IV.). Friendship is in full exercise only during actual intercourse; it may exist potentially at a distance; but in long absence, there is danger of its being dissolved. Friendship is a settled state or habit, while fondness is a mere passion, which does not imply our wishing to do good to the object of it, as friendship does (V.). The perfect kind of friendship, from its intensity, cannot be exercised towards more than a small number. In regard to the useful and the pleasant, on the other hand, there may be friendship with many; as the friendship towards tradesmen and between the young. The happy desire pleasant friends. Men in power have two classes of friends; one for the useful, the other for the pleasant. Both qualities are found in the good man; but he will not be the friend of a superior, unless he be surpassed (by that superior) in virtue also. In all the kinds of friendship now specified there is equality (VI.). There are friendships where one party is superior, as father and son, older and younger, husband and wife, governor and governed. In such cases there should be a proportionably greater love on the part of the inferior. When the love on each side is proportioned to the merit of the party beloved, then we have a certain species of equality, which is an ingredient in friendship. But equality in matters of friendship, is not quite the same as equality in matters of justice. In matters of justice, equality proportioned to merit stands first--equality between man and man (no account being taken of comparative merit) stands only second. In friendship, the case is the reverse; the perfection of friendship is equal love between the friends towards each other; to have greater love on one side, by reason of and proportioned to superior merit, is friendship only of the second grade. This will be evident if we reflect that extreme inequality renders friendship impossible--as between private men and kings or gods. Hence the friend can scarcely wish for his friend the maximum of good, to become a god; such extreme elevation would terminate the friendship. Nor will he wish his friend to possess all the good; for every one wishes most for good to self (VII.). The essence of friendship is to love rather than to be loved, as seen in mothers; but the generality of persons desire rather to be loved, which is akin to being honoured (although honour is partly sought as a sign of future favours). By means of love, as already said, unequal friendships may be equalized. Friendship with the good, is based on equality and similarity, neither party ever desiring base services. Friendships for the useful are based on the contrariety of fulness and defect, as poor and rich, ignorant and knowing (VIII.). Friendship is an incident of political society; men associating together for common ends, become friends. Political justice becomes more binding when men are related by friendship. The state itself is a community for the sake of advantage; the expedient to all is the just. In the large society of the state, there are many inferior societies for business, and for pleasure: friendship starts up in all (IX.). There are three forms of Civil Government, with a characteristic declension or perversion of each:--Monarchy passing into Despotism; Aristocracy into Oligarchy; Timocracy (based on wealth) into Democracy; parent and child typifies the first; husband and wife the second; brothers the third (X.). The monarchial or paternal type has superiority on one side, and demands honour as well as love on the other. In aristocracy, the relation is one of merit, and the greater love is given to the better. In timocracy, and among brothers, there is equality; and hence the most frequent friendships. There is no friendship towards a slave, as a slave, for, as such he is a mere animate tool (XL.). In the relations of the family, friendship varies with the different situations. Parents love their children as a part of themselves, and from the first; children grow to love their parents. Brothers are affected by their community of origin, as well as by common education and habits of intimacy. Husband and wife come together by a natural bond, and as mutual helps; their friendship contains the useful and the pleasant, and, with virtue, the good. Their offspring strengthens the bond (XII.). The friendships that give rise to complaints are confined to the Useful. Such friendships involve a legal element of strict and measured reciprocity [mere trade], and a moral or unwritten understanding, which is properly friendship. Each party is apt to give less and expect more than he gets; and the rule must be for each to reciprocate liberally and fully, in such manner and kind as they are able (XIII.). In unequal friendships, between a superior and inferior, the inferior has the greater share of material assistance, the superior should receive the greater honour (XIV.).

Book Ninth proceeds without any real break. It may not be always easy to fix the return to be made for services received. Protagoras, the sophist, left it to his pupils to settle the amount of fee that he should receive. When there is no agreement, we must render what is in our power, for example, to the gods and to our parents (I.). Cases may arise of conflicting obligation; as, shall we prefer a friend to a deserving man? shall a person robbed reciprocate to robbers? and others. [We have here the germs of Casuistry.] (II.) As to the termination of Friendship; in the case of the useful and the pleasant, the connexion ceases with the motives. In the case of the good, it may happen that one party counterfeits the good, but is really acting the useful or the pleasant; or one party may turn out wicked, and the only question is, how far hopes of his improvement shall be entertained. Again, one may continue the same, while the other makes large advances in mental training; how far shall present disparity operate against old associations? (III.). There is a sort of illustrative parallelism between the feelings and acts of friendship, and the feelings and acts of self-love, or of a good man to himself. The virtuous man wishes what is good for himself, especially for his highest part--the intellect or thinking part; he desires to pass his life in the company of his own thoughts; he sympathizes with his own sorrows. On the other hand, the bad choose the pleasant, although it be hurtful; they fly from themselves; their own thoughts are unpleasant companions; they are full of repentance (IV.). Good-will is different from friendship; it is a sudden impulse of feeling towards some distinguished or likeable quality, as in an antagonist. It has not the test of longing in absence. It may be the prelude to friendship (V.). Unanimity, or agreement of opinion, is a part of friendship. Not as regards mere speculation, as about the heavenly bodies; but in practical matters, where interests are at stake, such as the politics of the day. This unanimity cannot occur in the bad, from their selfish and grasping disposition (VI.).

The position is next examined--that the love felt by benefactors is stronger than the love felt by those benefitted. It is not a sufficient explanation to say, the benefactor is a creditor, who wishes the prosperity of his debtor. Benefactors are like workmen, who love their own work, and the exercise of their own powers. They also have the feeling of nobleness on their side; while the recipient has the less lovable idea of profit. Finally, activity is more akin to love than recipiency (VII.). Another question raised for discussion is--'Ought a man to love himself most, or another?' On the one hand, selfishness is usually condemned as the feature of bad men; on the other hand, the feelings towards self are made the standard of the feelings towards friends. The solution is given thus. There is a lower self (predominant with most men) that gratifies the appetites, seeking wealth, power, &c. With the select few, there is a higher self that seeks the honourable, the noble, intellectual excellence, at any cost of pleasure, wealth, honour, &c. These noble-minded men procure for themselves the greater good by sacrificing the less: and their self-sacrifice is thus a mode of self. It is the duty of the good man to love himself: for his noble life is profitable, both to himself, and to others; but the bad man ought not to love himself. [Self-sacrifice, formerly brought under Courage, is here depicted from another point of view] (VIII.).

By way of bringing out the advantages of friendship, it is next asked, Does the happy man need friends? To this, it is answered, (1) That happiness, being the sum of all human good, must suppose the possession of the greatest of external goods, which is friendship. (2) The happy man will require friends as recipients, of his overflow of kindness. (3) He cannot be expected either to be solitary, or to live with strangers. (4) The highest play of existence is to see the acts of another in harmony with self. (5) Sympathy supports and prolongs the glow of one's own emotions. (6) A friend confirms us in the practice of virtue. (7) The sense of existence in ourselves is enlarged by the consciousness of another's existence (IX.). The number of friends is again considered, and the same barriers stated--the impossibility of sharing among many the highest kind of affection, or of keeping up close and harmonious intimacy. The most renowned friendships are between pairs (X.). As to whether friends are most needed in adversity or in prosperity--in the one, friendship is more necessary, in the other more glorious (XI.). The essential support and manifestation of friendship is Intercourse. Whatever people's tastes are, they desire the society of others in exercising them (XII.).

Book Tenth discusses Pleasure, and lays down as the highest and perfect pleasure, the exercise of the Intellect in Philosophy.

Pleasure is deserving of consideration, from its close intimacy with the constitution of our race; on which account, in our training of youth, we steer them by pleasure and pain; and it is of the first importance that they should feel pleasure in what they ought, and displeasure in what they ought, as the groundwork (or _principium_) of good ethical dispositions. Such a topic can never be left unnoticed, especially when we look at the great difference of opinion thereupon. Some affirm pleasure to be the chief good [Eudoxus]. Others call it altogether vile and worthless [party of Speusippus]. Of these last, some perhaps really think so; but the rest are actuated by the necessity of checking men's too great proneness to it, and disparage it on that account. This policy Aristotle strongly censures, and contends for the superior efficacy of truth (I.).

The arguments urged by Eudoxus as proving pleasure to be the chief good, are, (1) That all beings seek pleasure; (2) and avoid its opposite, pain; (3) that they seek pleasure as an end-in-itself, and not as a means to any farther end; (4) that pleasure, added to any other good, such as justice or temperance, increases the amount of good; which could not be the case, unless pleasure were itself good. Yet this last argument (Aristotle urges) proves pleasure to be _a_ good, but not to be _the_ Good; indeed, Plato urged the same argument, to show that pleasure could _not_ be The Good: since The Good (the Chief Good) must be something that does not admit of being enhanced or made more good. The objection of Speusippus,--that irrational creatures are not to be admitted as witnesses,--Aristotle disallows, seeing that rational and irrational agree on the point; and the thing that seems to all, must be true. Another objection, That the opposite of pain is not pleasure, but a neutral state--is set aside as contradicted by the fact of human desire and aversion, the two opposite states of feeling (II.).

The arguments of the Platonists, to prove that pleasure is not good, are next examined. (1) Pleasure, they say, is not a quality; but neither (replies Aristotle) are the exercises or actual manifestations of virtue or happiness. (2) Pleasure is not definite, but unlimited, or admitting of degrees, while The Good is a something definite, and does not admit of degrees. But if these reasoners speak about the pure pleasures, they might take objection on similar grounds against virtue and justice also; for these too admit of degrees, and one man is more virtuous than another. And if they speak of the mixed pleasures (alloyed with pain), their reasoning will not apply to the unmixed. Good health is acknowledged to be a good, and to be a definite something; yet there are nevertheless some men more healthy, some less. (3) The Good is perfect or complete; but objectors urge that no motion or generation is complete, and pleasure is in one of these two categories. This last assertion Aristotle denies. Pleasure is _not_ a motion; for the attribute of velocity, greater or less, which is essential to all motion, does not attach to pleasure. A man may be quick in becoming pleased, or in becoming angry; but in the act of being pleased or angry, he can neither be quick nor slow. Nor is it true that pleasure is a generation. In all generation, there is something assignable out of which generation takes place (not any one thing out of any other), and into which it reverts by destruction. If pleasure be a generation, pain must be the destruction of what is generated; but this is not correct, for pain does not re-establish the state antecedent to the pleasure. Accordingly, it is not true that pleasure is a generation. Some talk of pain as a want of something required by nature, and of pleasure as a filling up of that want. But these are corporeal, not mental facts, and are applicable only to eating and drinking; not applicable to many other pleasures, such as those of sight, hearing, or learning. (4) There are some disgraceful pleasures. Aristotle replies that these are not absolutely and properly pleasures, but only to the depraved man; just as things are not yellow, which appear so to men in a jaundice. Pleasures differ from each other in species: there are good pleasures, _i.e._, those arising from good sources; and bad pleasures, _i.e._, from bad sources. The pleasure _per se_ is always desirable; but not when it comes from objectionable acts. The pleasures of each man will vary according to his character; none but a musical man can enjoy the pleasures of music. No one would consent to remain a child for life, even though he were to have his fill of childish pleasure.

Aristotle sums up the result thus. Pleasure is not The Good. Not every mode of pleasure is to be chosen. Some pleasures, distinguished from the rest specifically or according to their sources, are to be chosen _per se_ (III.).

He then attempts to define pleasure. It is something perfect and complete in itself, at each successive moment of time; hence it is not motion, which is at every moment incomplete. Pleasure is like the act of vision, or a point, or a monad, always complete in itself. It accompanies every variety of sensible perception, intelligence, and theorizing contemplation. In each of these faculties, the act is more perfect, according as the subjective element is most perfect, and the object most grand and dignified. When the act is most perfect, the pleasure accompanying it is also the most perfect; and this pleasure puts the finishing consummation to the act. The pleasure is not a pre-existing acquirement now brought into exercise, but an accessory end implicated with the act, like the fresh look which belongs to the organism just matured. It is a sure adjunct, so long as subject and object are in good condition. But continuity of pleasure, as well as of the other exercises, is impossible. Life is itself an exercise much diversified, and each man follows the diversity that is suitable to his own inclination--music, study, &c. Each has its accessory and consummating mode of pleasure; and to say that all men desire pleasure, is the same as saying that all men desire life. It is no real question to ask--Do we choose life for the sake of pleasure, or pleasure for the sake of life? The truth is, that the two are implicated and inseparable (IV.).

As our acts or exercises differ from each other specifically, so also the pleasures that are accessory to them differ specifically. Exercises intellectual differ from exercises perceptive, and under each head there are varieties differing from each other. The pleasures accessory and consummating to each, are diversified accordingly. Each pleasure contributes to invigorate and intensify the particular exercise that it is attached to; the geometer who studies his science with pleasure becomes more acute and successful in prosecuting it. On the other hand, the pleasures attached to one exercise impede the mind in regard to other exercises; thus men fond of the flute cannot listen to a speaker with attention, if any one is playing the flute near them. What we delight in doing, we are more likely to do well; what we feel pain in doing, we are not likely to do well. And thus each variety of exercise is alike impeded by the pains attached to itself, and by the pleasures attached to other varieties.

Among these exercises or acts, some are morally good, others morally bad; the desires of the good are also praise-worthy, the desires of the bad are blameable; but if so, much more are the pleasures attached to the good exercises, good pleasures--and the pleasures attached to the bad exercises, bad pleasures. For the pleasures attached to an exercise are more intimately identified with that exercise than the desire of it can be. The pleasure of the exercise, and the exercise itself, are indeed so closely identified one with the other, that to many they appear the same. Sight, hearing, and smell, differ in purity from touch and taste; and the pleasures attached to each differ in like manner. The pleasures of intellect differ from those of sense, as these two exercises differ from one another. Every animal has its own peculiar pleasures, as it has also its own peculiar manifestation and exercises. Among the human race, the same things give pleasure to one individual and pain to another. The things that appear sweet to the strong and healthy man, do not appear sweet to one suffering from fever, or weakly. Now, amidst this discrepancy, what _appears_ to the virtuous and intelligent man, really _is_. His pleasures are the true and real pleasures. Excellence, and the good man _quâtenus_ good, are to be taken as the standard. If what he abhors appears pleasurable to some persons, we must not be surprised, since there are many depravations of individuals, in one way or another; but these things are not pleasures really, they are only pleasures to these depraved mortals (V.).

So far the theory of Pleasure. Aristotle now goes back to his starting point--the nature of the Good, and Happiness. He re-states his positions: That Happiness is an exercise or actuality [Greek: energeia], and not an acquirement or state (hexis), That it belongs to such exercises as are worthy of choice for their own sake, and not to such as are worthy of choice for the sake of something else; That it is perfect and self-sufficing, seeking nothing beyond itself, and leaving no wants unsupplied. Hence he had concluded that it consisted in acting according to virtue; for the honourable and good are chosen for their own sake. But amusements are also sought for their own sake; Are these also to be called happiness? No. It is true that they are much pursued by those whom the vulgar envy--men of wealth and despots--who patronize and reward the practitioners of amusement. But this proves nothing, for we cannot adopt the choice of these despots, who have little virtue or intellect, and have never known the taste of refined and liberal pleasure. Children and mature men, bad men and virtuous, have each their different pleasures; the virtuous and intelligent man finds a life of excellence and the pleasures attached thereunto most worthy of his choice, and such a man (Aristotle has declared more than once) is our standard. It would indeed be childish to treat amusements as the main end of life; they are the relaxation of the virtuous man, who derives from them fresh vigour for the prosecution of the serious business of life, which he cannot prosecute continuously. The serious exercises of life are better than the comic, because they proceed from the better part of man. The slave may enjoy bodily pleasures to the full, but a slave is not called happy (VI.).

We have thus shown that Happiness consists in exercise or actual living according to excellence; naturally, therefore, according to the highest excellence, or the excellence of the best part of man. This best part is the Intellect (_Nous_), our most divine and commanding element; in its exercise, which is theoretical or speculative, having respect to matters honourable, divine, and most worthy of study. Such philosophical exercise, besides being the highest function of our nature, is at the same time more susceptible than any mode of active effort, of being prosecuted for a long continuance. It affords the purest and most lasting pleasure; it approaches most nearly to being self-sufficing, since it postulates little more than the necessaries of life, and is even independent of society, though better _with_ society. Perfect happiness would thus be the exercise of the theorizing intellect, continued through a full period of life. But this is more than we can expect. Still, we ought to make every effort to live according to this best element of our nature; for, though small in bulk, it stands exalted above the rest in power and dignity, and, being the sovereign element in man, is really The Man himself (VII.).

Next, yet only second, come the other branches of excellence: the active social life of a good citizen. Exercises according to this branch of virtue are the natural business of man, for it is bound up with our whole nature, including body as well as mind, our appetites, and our passions, whereas the happiness of intellect is separate. Active social virtue postulates conditions of society and external aids in considerable measure; but the life of intellect requires only the minimum of these, and is even impeded by much of them.

That perfect happiness is to be found in the philosophical life only, will appear farther when we recollect that the gods are blest and happy in the highest degree, and that this is the only mode of life suitable to them. With the gods there can be no scope for active social virtues; for in what way can they be just, courageous, or temperate? Neither virtuous practice nor constructive art can be predicated of the gods; what then remains, since we all assume them to live, and therefore to be in act or exercise of some kind; for no one believes them to live in a state of sleep, like Endymion. There remains nothing except philosophical contemplation. This, then, must be the life of the gods, the most blest of all; and that mode of human life which approaches nearest to it will be the happiest. No other animal can take part in this, and therefore none can be happy. In so far as the gods pay attention to human affairs, they are likely to take pleasure in the philosopher, who is most allied to themselves. A moderate supply of good health, food, and social position, must undoubtedly be ensured to the philosopher; for, without these, human nature will not suffice for the business of contemplation. But he will demand nothing more than a moderate supply, and when thus equipped, he will approach nearer to happiness than any one else. Aristotle declares this confidently, citing Solon, Anaxagoras, and other sages, as having said much the same before him (VIII.).

In the concluding chapter, Aristotle gives the transition from Ethics to Politics. Treatises on virtue may inspire a few liberal minds; but, for the mass of men, laws, institutions, and education are necessary. The young ought to be trained, not merely by paternal guidance directing in the earliest years their love and hatred, but also by a scheme of public education, prescribed and enforced by authority throughout the city. Right conduct will thus be rendered easier by habit; but still, throughout life, the mature citizen must continue under the discipline of law, which has force adequate to correction, and, being impersonal, does not excite aversion and hatred. Hence the need for a system of good public training. Nowhere is this now established and enforced; hardly anywhere, except in Sparta, is it even attempted. Amid such public neglect, it becomes the duty of an individual to contribute what he can to the improvement of those that he is concerned in, and for that purpose to acquire the capacities qualifying him for becoming a lawgiver. Private admonition will compensate to a certain extent for the neglect of public interference, and in particular cases may be even more discriminating. Bat how are such capacities to be acquired? Not from the Sophists, whose method is too empirical; nor from practical politicians, for they seem to have no power of imparting their skill. Perhaps it would be useful to make a collection of existing laws and constitutions. Aristotle concludes with sketching the plan of his own work on Politics.

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The Aristotelian doctrines are generally summed up in such points as these:--The theory of Good; Pleasure; the theory of Virtue; the doctrine of the Will, distinguishing voluntary from involuntary; Virtue a Habit; the doctrine of the MEAN; the distinction between the Moral Virtues and the Intellectual Virtues; Justice, distributive, and commutative; Friendship; the Contemplative Life.

The following are the indications of his views, according to the six leading subjects of Ethics.

I. and II.--It is characteristic of Aristotle (as is fully stated in Appendix B.) to make the judgment of the wisest and most cultivated minds, the standard of appeal in moral questions. He lays down certain general principles, such as the doctrine of the Mean, but in the application of these (which is everything), he trusts to the most experienced and skilled advisers that the community can furnish.

III.--On the theory of Happiness, or the Summum Bonum, it is needless to repeat the abstract of the tenth book.

IV.--In laying down the Moral Code, he was encumbered with the too wide view of Virtue; but made an advance in distinguishing virtue proper from excellence in general.

V.--He made Society tutelary to the individual in an excessive degree. He had no clear conception of the province of authority or law; and did not separate the morality of obligation from the morality of reward and nobleness.

VI.--His exclusion of Theology from morality was total.

THE STOICS.

The Stoics were one of the four sects of philosophy, recognized and conspicuous at Athens during the three centuries preceding the Christian era, and during the century or more following. Among these four sects, the most marked antithesis of ethical dogma was between the Stoics and the Epicureans. The Stoical system dates from about 300 B.C.; it was derived from the system of the Cynics.

The founder of the system was ZENO, from Citium in Cyprus (he lived from 340--260 B.C.), who derived his first impulse from Krates the Cynic. He opened his school in a building or porch, called the _Stoa Poecile_ ('Painted Portico') at Athens, whence the origin of the name of the sect. Zeno had for his disciple CLEANTHES, from Assos in the Troad (300--220 B.C.), whose _Hymn to Jupiter_ is the only fragment of any length that has come down to us from the early Stoics, and is a remarkable production, setting forth the unity of God, his omnipotence, and his moral government. CHRYSIPPUS, from Soli in Cilicia (290--207 B.C.), followed Cleanthes, and, in his voluminous writings, both defended and modified the Stoical creed. These three represent the _first_ period of the system. The _second_ period (200--50 B.C.) embraces its general promulgation, and its introduction to the Romans. Chrysippus was succeeded by ZENO of Sidon, and DIOGENES of Babylon; then followed ANTIPATER, of Tarsus, who taught PANAETIUS of Rhodes (d. 112 B.C.), who, again, taught POSIDONIUS of Apamea, in Syria. (Two philosophers are mentioned from the native province of St. Paul, besides Chrysippus--ATHEKODOEUS, from Cana in Cilicia; and ARCHEDEMUS, from Tarsus, the apostle's birthplace. It is remarked by Sir A. Grant, that almost all the first Stoics were of Asiatic birth; and the system itself is undeniably more akin to the oriental mind than to the Greek.) Posidonius was acquainted with Marius and Pompey, and gave lessons to Cicero, but the moral treatise of Cicero, _De Officiis_, is derived from a work of Panaetius. The _third_ period of Stoicism is Roman. In this period, we have Cato the Younger, who invited to his house the philosopher Athenodorus; and, under the Empire, the three Stoic philosophers, whose writings have come down to us--SENECA (6 B.C.-65 A.D.), EPICTETUS (60-140 A.D.), who began life as a slave, and the Emperor MARCUS AURELIUS ANTONINUS (121-180 A.D.). Stoicism prevailed widely in the Roman world, although not to the exclusion of Epicurean views.

The leading Stoical doctrines are given in certain phrases or expressions, as 'Life according to Nature' (although this phrase belongs also to the Epicureans), the ideal 'Wise Man,' 'Apathy,' or equanimity of mind (also an Epicurean ideal), the power of the 'Will,' the worship of 'Duty,' the constant 'Advance' in virtue, &c. But perspicuity will be best gained by considering the _Moral_ system under four heads--the Theology; the Psychology or theory of mind; the theory of the Good or human happiness; and the scheme of Virtue or Duty.

I.--The THEOLOGICAL doctrines of the Stoics comprehended their system of the Universe, and of man's position in it. They held that the Universe is governed by one good and wise God, together with inferior or subordinate deities. God exercises a moral government; under it the good are happy, while misfortunes happen to the wicked. According to Epictetus, God is the father of men; Antoninus exults in the beautiful arrangement of all things. The earlier Stoics, Zeno and Chrysippus, entertained high reverence for the divination, prophecy, and omens that were generally current in the ancient world. They considered that these were the methods whereby the gods were graciously pleased to make known beforehand revelations of their foreordained purposes. (Herein lay one among the marked points of contrast between Stoics and Epicureans.) They held this foreordination even to the length of fatalism, and made the same replies, as have been given in modern times, to the difficulty of reconciling it with the existence of evil, and with the apparent condition of the better and the worse individuals among mankind. They offered explanations such as the following: (1) God is the author of all things except wickedness; (2) the very nature of good supposes its contrast evil, and the two are inseparable, like light and dark, (which may be called the argument from Relativity); (3) in the enormous extent of the Universe, some things must be neglected; (4) when evil happens to the good, it is not as a punishment, but as connected with a different dispensation; (5) parts of the world may be presided over by evil demons; (6) what we call evil may not be evil.

Like most other ancient schools, the Stoics held God to be corporeal like man:--Body is the only substance; nothing incorporeal could act on what is corporeal; the First Cause of all, God or Zeus, is the primeval fire, emanating from which is the soul of man in the form of a warm ether.

It is for human beings to recognize the Universe as governed by universal Law, and not only to raise their minds to the comprehension of it, but to enter into the views of the administering Zeus or Fate, who must regard all interests equally; we are to be, as it were, in harmony with him, to merge self in universal Order, to think only of that and its welfare. As two is greater than one, the interests of the whole world are infinitely greater than the interests of any single being, and no one should be satisfied with a regard to anything less than the whole. By this elevation of view, we are necessarily raised far above the consideration of the petty events befalling ourselves. The grand effort of human reason is thus to rise to the abstraction or totality of entire Nature; 'no ethical subject,' says Chrysippus, 'could be rightly approached except from the pre-consideration of entire Nature, and the ordering of the whole.'

As to Immortality, the Stoics precluded themselves, by holding the theory of the _absorption_ of the individual soul at death into the divine essence; but, on the other hand, their doctrine of advance and aspiration is what has in all times been the main natural argument for the immortality of the soul. For the most part, they kept themselves undecided as to this doctrine, giving it as an alternative, reasoning as to our conduct on either supposition, and submitting to the pleasure of God in this as in all other things.

In arguing for the existence of Divine power and government, they employed what has been called the argument from Design, which is as old as Sokrates. Man is conscious that he is in himself an intellectual or spiritual power, from which, by analogy, he is led to believe that a greater power pervades the universe, as intellect pervades the human system.

II.--In the PSYCHOLOGY of the Stoics, two questions, are of interest, their theory of Pleasure and Pain, and their views upon the Freedom of the Will.

1. _The theory of Pleasure and Pain_. The Stoics agreed with the Peripatetics (anterior to Epicurus, not specially against _him_) that the first principle of nature is (not pleasure or relief from pain, but) _self-preservation_ or _self-love_; in other words, the natural appetite or tendency of all creatures is, to preserve their existing condition with its inherent capacities, and to keep clear of destruction or disablement. This appetite (they said) manifests itself in little children before any pleasure or pain is felt, and is moreover a fundamental postulate, pre-supposed in all desires of particular pleasures, as well as in all aversions to particular pains. We begin by loving our own vitality; and we come, by association, to love what promotes or strengthens our vitality; we hate destruction or disablement, and come (by secondary association) to hate whatever produces that effect.[8] The doctrine here laid down associated, and brought under one view, what was common to man, not merely with the animal, but also with the vegetable world; a plant was declared to have an impulse or tendency to maintain itself, even without feeling pain or pleasure. Aristotle (in the tenth Book of the Ethics) says, that he will not determine whether we love life for the sake of pleasure, or pleasure for the sake of life; for he affirms the two to be essentially yoked together and inseparable; pleasure is the consummation of our vital manifestations. The Peripatetics, after him, put pleasure down to a lower level, as derivative and accidental; the Stoics went farther in the same direction--possibly from antithesis against the growing school of Epicurus.

The primary _officium_ (in a larger sense than our word Duty) of man is (they said) to keep himself in the state of nature; the second or derivative _officium_ is to keep to such things as are _according to nature_, and to avert those that are _contrary to nature_; our gradually increasing experience enabled us to discriminate the two. The youth learns, as he grows up, to value bodily accomplishments, mental cognitions and judgments, good conduct towards those around him,--as powerful aids towards keeping up the state of nature. When his experience is so far enlarged as to make him aware of the order and harmony of nature and human society, and to impress upon him the comprehension of this great _ideal_, his emotions as well as his reason become absorbed by it. He recognizes this as the only true Bonum or Honestum, to which all other desirable things are referable,--as the only thing desirable for itself and in its own nature. He drops or dismisses all those _prima naturae_ that he had begun by desiring. He no longer considers any of them as worthy of being desired in itself, or for its own sake.

While therefore (according to Peripatetics as well as Stoics) the love of self and of preserving one's own vitality and activity, is the primary element, intuitive and connate, to which all rational preference (_officium_) was at first referred,--they thought it not the less true, that in process of time, by experience, association, and reflection, there grows up in the mind a grand acquired sentiment or notion, a new and later light, which extinguishes and puts out of sight the early beginning. It was important to distinguish the feeble and obscure elements from the powerful and brilliant aftergrowth; which indeed was fully realized only in chosen minds, and in them, hardly before old age. This idea, when once formed in the mind, was _The Good_--the only thing worthy of desire for its own sake. The Stoics called it the only Good, being sufficient in itself for happiness; other things being not good, nor necessary to happiness, but simply preferable or advantageous when they could be had: the Peripatetics recognized it as the first and greatest good, but said also that it was not sufficient in itself; there were two other inferior varieties of good, of which something must be had as complementary (what the Stoics called _praeposita_ or _sumenda_). Thus the Stoics said, about the origin of the Idea of Bonum or Honestum, much the same as what Aristotle says about ethical virtue. It is not implanted in us by nature; but we have at birth certain initial tendencies and capacities, which, if aided by association and training, enable us (and that not in all cases) to acquire it.

2. _The Freedom of the Will_. A distinction was taken by Epictetus and other Stoics between things in our power and things not in our power. The things in our power are our opinions and notions about objects, and all our affections, desires, and aversions; the things not in our power are our bodies, wealth, honour, rank, authority, &c., and their opposites. The practical application is this: wealth and high rank may not be in our power, but we have the power to form an _idea_ of these--namely, that they are unimportant, whence the want of them will not grieve us. A still more pointed application is to death, whose force is entirely in the idea.

With this distinction between things in our power and things not in our power, we may connect the arguments between the Stoics and their opponents as to what is now called the Freedom of the Will. But we must first begin by distinguishing the two questions. By things _in our power_, the Stoics meant, things that we could do or acquire, _if we willed_: by things _not in_ our power, they meant, things that we could not do or acquire if we willed. In both cases, the volition was assumed as a fact: the question, what determined it--or whether it was non-determined, _i.e._ self-determining--was not raised in the abovementioned antithesis. But it was raised in other discussions between the Stoic theorist Chrysippus, and various opponents. These opponents denied that volition was determined by motives, and cited the cases of equal conflicting motives (what is known as the ass of Buridan) as proving that the soul includes in itself, and exerts, a special supervenient power of deciding action in one way or the other: a power not determined by any causal antecedent, but self-originating, and belonging to the class of agency that Aristotle recognizes under the denomination of automatic, spontaneous (or essentially irregular and unpredictable). Chrysippus replied by denying not only the reality of this supervenient force said to be inherent in the soul, but also the reality of all that Aristotle called automatic or spontaneous agency generally. Chrysippus said that every movement was determined by antecedent motives; that, in cases of equal conflict, the exact equality did not long continue, because some new but slight motive slipped in unperceived and turned the scale on one side or the other. (See Plutarch De Stoicorum Repugnantiis, c. 23, p. 1045.) Here, we see, the question now known as the Freedom of the Will is discussed: and Chrysippus declares against it, affirming that volition is always determined by motives.

But we also see that, while declaring this opinion, Chrysippus does not employ the terms Necessity or Freedom of the Will: neither did his opponents, so far as we can see: they had a different and less misleading phrase. By Freedom, Chrysippus and the Stoics meant the freedom of doing what a man willed, if he willed it. A man is free, as to the thing that is in his power, when he wills it: he is not free, as to what is not in his power, under the same supposition. The Stoics laid great stress on this distinction. They pointed out how much it is really in a man's power to transform or discipline his own mind: in the way of controlling or suppressing some emotions, generating or encouraging others, forming new intellectual associations, &c., how much a man could do in these ways, _if he willed it_, and if he went through the lessons, habits of conduct, meditations, suitable to produce such an effect. The Stoics strove to create in a man's mind the volitions appropriate for such mental discipline, by depicting the beneficial consequences resulting from it, and the misfortune and shame inevitable, if the mind were not so disciplined. Their purpose was to strengthen the governing reason of his mind, and to enthrone it as a fixed habit and character, which would control by counter suggestions the impulse arising at each special moment--particularly all disturbing terrors or allurements. This, in their view, is a _free mind_; not one wherein volition is independent of all motive, but one wherein the susceptibility to different motives is tempered by an ascendant reason, so as to give predominance to the better motive against the worse. One of the strongest motives that they endeavoured to enforce, was the prudence and dignity of bringing our volitions into harmony with the schemes of Providence: which (they said) were always arranged with a view to the happiness of the kosmos on the whole. The bad man, whose volitions conflict with these schemes, is always baulked of his expectations, and brought at last against his will to see things carried by an overruling force, with aggravated pain and humiliation to himself: while the good man, who resigns himself to them from the first, always escapes with less pain, and often without any at all. _Ducunt volentem fata, nolentem trahunt_.

We have thus seen that in regard to the doctrine called in modern times the Freedom of the Will (_i.e._, that volitions are self-originating and unpredictable), the Stoic theorists not only denied it, but framed all their Ethics upon the assumption of the contrary. This same assumption of the contrary, indeed, was made also by Sokrates, Plato, Aristotle, and Epicurus: in short, by all the ethical teachers of antiquity. All of them believed that volitions depended on causes: that under the ordinary conditions of men's minds, the causes that volitions generally depended upon are often misleading and sometimes ruinous: but that by proper stimulation from without and meditation within, the rational causes of volition might be made to overrule the impulsive. Plato, Aristotle, Epicurus, not less than the Stoics, wished to create new fixed habits and a new type of character. They differed, indeed, on the question what the proper type of character was: but each of them aimed at the same general end--a new type of character, regulating the grades of susceptibility to different motives. And the purpose of all and each of these moralists precludes the theory of free-will--_i.e._, the theory that our volitions are self-originating and unpredictable.

III.--We must consider next the Stoical theory of Happiness, or rather of the _Good_, which with them was proclaimed to be the sole, indispensable, and self-sufficing condition of Happiness. They declared that Pleasure was no part of Good, and Pain no part of Evil; therefore, that even relief from pain was not necessary to Good or Happiness. This, however, if followed out consistently, would dispense with all morality and all human endeavour. Accordingly, the Stoics were obliged to let in some pleasures as an object of pursuit, and some pains as an object of avoidance, though not under the title of Good and Evil, but with the inferior name of _Sumenda_ and _Rejicienda_.[9] Substantially, therefore, they held that pains are an evil, but, by a proper discipline, may be triumphed over. They disallowed the direct and ostensible pursuit of pleasure as an end (the point of view of Epicurus), but allured their followers partly by promising them the victory over pain, and partly by certain enjoyments of an elevated cast that grew out of their plan of life.

Pain of every kind, whether from the casualties of existence, or from, the severity of the Stoical virtues, was to be met by a discipline of endurance, a hardening process, which, if persisted in, would succeed in reducing the mind to a state of _Apathy_ or indifference. A great many reflections were suggested in aid of this education. The influence of exercise and repetition in adapting the system to any new function, was illustrated by the Olympian combatants, and by the Lacedaemonian youth, who endured scourging without complaint. Great stress was laid on the instability of pleasure, and the constant liability to accidents; whence we should always be anticipating and adapting ourselves to the worst that could happen, so as never to be in a state where anything could ruffle the mind. It was pointed out how much might still be made of the worst circumstances--poverty, banishment, public odium, sickness, old age--and every consideration was advanced that could 'arm the obdurate breast with stubborn patience, as with triple steel.' It has often been remarked that such a discipline of endurance was peculiarly suited to the unsettled condition of the world at the time, when any man, in addition to the ordinary evils of life, might in a moment be sent into exile, or sold into slavery.

Next to the discipline of endurance, we must rank the complacent sentiment of _Pride_, which the Stoic might justly feel in his conquest of himself, and in his lofty independence and superiority to the casualties of life.[10] The pride of the Cynic, the Stoic's predecessor, was prominent and offensive, showing itself in scurrility and contempt towards everybody else; the Stoical pride was a refinement upon this, but was still a grateful sentiment of superiority, which helped to make up for the surrender of indulgences. It was usual to bestow the most extravagant laudation on the 'Wise Man,' and every Stoic could take this home to the extent that he considered himself as approaching that great ideal.

The last and most elevated form of Stoical happiness was the satisfaction of contemplating the Universe and God. Epictetus says, that we can accommodate ourselves cheerfully to the providence that rules the world, if we possess two things--the power of seeing all that happens in the proper relation to its own purpose--and a grateful disposition. The work of Antoninus is full of studies of Nature in the devout spirit of 'passing from Nature up to Nature's God;' he is never weary of expressing his thorough contentment with the course of natural events, and his sense of the beauties and fitness of everything. Old age has its grace, and death is the becoming termination. This high strain of exulting contemplation reconciled him to that complete submission to whatever might befall, which was the essential feature of the 'Life according to Nature,' as he conceived it.

IV.--The Stoical theory of Virtue is implicated in the ideas of the Good, now described.

The fountain of all virtue is manifestly the life according to nature; as being the life of subordination of self to more general interests--to family, country, mankind, the whole universe. If a man is prepared to consider himself absolutely nothing in comparison with the universal interest, and to regard it as the sole end of life, he has embraced an ideal of virtue of the loftiest order. Accordingly, the Stoics were the first to preach what is called 'Cosmopolitanism;' for although, in their reference to the good of the whole, they confounded together sentient life and inanimate objects--rocks, plants, &c., solicitude for which was misspent labour--yet they were thus enabled to reach the conception of the universal kindship of mankind, and could not but include in their regards the brute creation. They said: 'There is no difference between the Greeks and Barbarians; the world is our city.' Seneca urges kindness to slaves, for 'are they not men like ourselves, breathing the same air, living and dying like ourselves?'

The Epicureans declined, as much as possible, interference in public affairs, but the Stoic philosophers urged men to the duties of active citizenship. Chrysippus even said that the life of philosophical contemplation (such as Aristotle preferred, and accounted godlike) was to be placed on the same level with the life of pleasure; though Plutarch observes that neither Chrysippus nor Zeno ever meddled personally with any public duty; both of them passed their lives in lecturing and writing. The truth is that both of them were foreigners residing at Athens; and at a time when Athens was dependent on foreign princes. Accordingly, neither Zeno nor Chrysippus had any sphere of political action open to them; they were, in this respect, like Epictetus afterwards--but in a position quite different from Seneca, the preceptor of Nero, who might hope to influence the great imperial power of Rome, and from Marcus Antoninus, who held that imperial power in his own hands.

Marcus Antoninus--not only a powerful Emperor, but also the most gentle and amiable man of his day--talks of active beneficence both as a duty and a satisfaction. But in the creed of the Stoics generally, active Beneficence did not occupy a prominent place. They adopted the four Cardinal Virtues--Wisdom, or the Knowledge of Good and Evil; Justice; Fortitude; Temperance--as part of their plan of the virtuous life, the life according to Nature. Justice, as the social virtue, was placed above all the rest. But the Stoics were not strenuous in requiring more than Justice, for the benefit of others beside the agent. They even reckoned compassion for the sufferings of others as a weakness, analogous to envy for the good fortune of others.

The Stoic recognized the gods (or Universal Nature, equivalent expressions in his creed) as managing the affairs of the world, with a view to producing as much happiness as was attainable on the whole. Towards this end the gods did not want any positive assistance from him; but it was his duty and his strongest interest, to resign himself to their plans, and to abstain from all conduct tending to frustrate them. Such refractory tendencies were perpetually suggested to him by the unreasonable appetites, emotions, fears, antipathies, &c., of daily life; all claiming satisfaction at the expense of future mischief to himself and others. To countervail these misleading forces, by means of a fixed rational character built up through meditation and philosophical teaching, was the grand purpose of the Stoic ethical creed. The emotional or appetitive self was to be starved or curbed, and retained only as an appendage to the rational self; an idea proclaimed before in general terms by Plato, but carried out into a system by the Stoics, and to a great extent even by the Epicureans.