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Title: Roman Stoicism

Author: Edward Vernon Arnold

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROMAN
STOICISM ***

ROMAN STOICISM

CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS
London: FETTER LANE, E.C.
C. F. CLAY, Manager

Edinburgh: 100, PRINCES STREET
Berlin: A. ASHER AND CO.
Leipzig: F. A. BROCKHAUS
New York: G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS
Bombay and Calcutta: MACMILLAN AND CO., Ltd

All rights reserved

ROMAN STOICISM

BEING LECTURES ON THE HISTORY OF THE
STOIC PHILOSOPHY WITH SPECIAL
REFERENCE TO ITS DEVELOPMENT
WITHIN THE ROMAN EMPIRE

BY
E. VERNON ARNOLD, Litt.D.
PROFESSOR OF LATIN IN THE UNIVERSITY COLLEGE OF NORTH WALES
AND FORMERLY FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE

Cambridge:
at the University Press
1911

Cambridge:
PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A.
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.

HENRICO JACKSON, Litt.D.
DILECTISSIMO PRAECEPTORI

PREFACE
This book is the outcome of a course of lectures delivered by me in
successive years to Latin Honours students in accordance with the
regulations of the University of Wales. It is therefore primarily intended for
the assistance of classical students; but it may perhaps appeal in its present
form to a somewhat wider circle.
At the time that the book was begun the best systematic exposition of the
Stoic philosophy available for English readers was to be found in Prof. E.
Zeller’s Stoics Epicureans and Sceptics, translated by O. J. Reichel
(Longmans, 1892). This work, admirable in detail, is nevertheless
somewhat inadequate to the subject, which appeared to its learned author as
a mere sequel to the much more important philosophical systems of Plato
and Aristotle. Since its first appearance many qualified writers have been
inclined to assign a higher rank to Stoicism, amongst whom L. Stein, A.
Schmekel, and Hans von Arnim in the German-speaking countries, and A.
C. Pearson, G. H. Rendall, and R. D. Hicks in our own, are perhaps most
conspicuous.
The view taken in this book corresponds generally to that taken by the
writers named. Shortly expressed, it regards Stoicism as the bridge between
ancient and modern philosophical thought; a position which appears to be
accepted by W. L. Davidson writing on behalf of students of modern
philosophy. Mr Hicks and Mr Davidson have recently published works
dealing with the Stoic philosophy as a whole; but as neither of these quite
covers the ground marked out for this book, I believe that room will be
found for a further presentation of the subject.
To the writers named and to many others, my obligations are great, and
their extent is generally indicated in the Index. I owe a more intimate debt
to Mr A. C. Pearson and Prof. Alfred Caldecott, who have given me
ungrudgingly of their knowledge and counsel during the whole period of
the preparation of this book.
The appearance of H. von Arnim’s ‘Stoicorum veterum fragmenta’ made
available to me a mass of material from Greek sources, and has (I hope)

made this book less imperfect on the side of Greek than it would otherwise
have been. For the quotations in the notes from the Greek and the less-
known Latin authors I have generally given references to von Arnim’s
collections, which will doubtless be more accessible to most of my readers
than the original writers. These references include those to the fragments of
Zeno and Cleanthes, for which von Arnim is in the main indebted to the
earlier work of Pearson.
So general a treatment of the subject as is here presented must
necessarily leave room for correction and amplification in its various
branches, and I trust that I am pointing out to younger students a field in
which a rich harvest may yet be gleaned. To such students the appended
Bibliography, though necessarily incomplete, may be of use as an
introduction to the considerable literature which is available to them.
The concluding chapter makes its appeal not so much to classical
students, as such, as to those who are interested in the problem of Christian
origins; the further problems of the influence of Stoicism on modern
literature and philosophy, though at first included in my programme, I have
not ventured to enter upon. But I hope that at least I have been able to show
that the interest of classical studies, even as regards Hellenistic philosophy,
does not lie wholly in the past.
My sincere thanks are due to the Council of the University College of
North Wales for granting me special assistance in my College duties during
the Spring term of 1910, in order that I might give more time to this book;
to the Syndics of the Cambridge University Press for undertaking its
publication; and to Mr Clay and his expert staff for the admirable execution
of the printing.
E. VERNON ARNOLD
25 January 1911

CORRIGENDA ET NOTANDA
In the text the accentuation of Greek words should be corrected as
follows:

P. 117, l. 10, χρεῖαι. P. 239, l. 6, μέρων. P. 423, l. 16,
ἀγάπη.

(Transcriber’s Note: These have been corrected.)

For the quotations in the notes from Greek writers, more precise
references will usually be found in the sections named of von Arnim’s
Stoicorum veterum fragmenta. In addition the following amplifications or
corrections are needed:

P. 105, n. 44; Clem. Strom. ii 21, 129. P. 133, n. 38; Nem.
nat. hom. vi 13. P. 142, n. 86; Sext. math. vii 184. P. 158, n.
17; Simp. Arist. cat. p. 269, 14 K; Cens. fr. 1, 1. P. 159, n.
20; Simp. Arist. cat. p. 350, 16 K. P. 160, n. 30; for τόνος the
word λόγος is now read, making the quotation inapplicable.
P. 161, n. 133; add the words τοὺς ἐν ἑαυτῷ λόγους. The
reference is to Simpl. Arist. cat. p. 306, 23 K. P. 164, n. 45;
Simp. Arist. cat. p. 66, 32 K; n. 47, ib. p. 165, 32 K. P. 166,
n. 60; ib. p. 269, 14 K. P. 168, n. 75; ib. p. 165, 32 K. P. 173,
n. 110; Galen const. art. med. p. 253 K; n. 111, meth. med. i
2 p. 16 K. P. 185, n. 79; for ἀπὸ read ὑπὸ. P. 187, n. 86; Sext.
math. viii 271. P. 193, n. 130; Nemes. nat. hom. xxxviii 95.
P. 196, n. 145; Galen de temp. p. 617 K. P. 222, n. 33; Corn.
N. D. ii. P. 224, n. 47; Sext. math. vii 93. P. 251, n. 76; Galen
plac. Hipp. et Plat. p. 242 K. P. 255, n. 86; for μῖγμα read
μίγμα. P. 264, n. 139; to the quotation from Comm. in Luc.
ix 6 add ‘et esse sic immortales ut non moriantur sed
resolvantur.’ P. 298, n. 184; Alex. Aph. de fato 28, p. 199, 18
B.

CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. The World-Religions 1
II. Heraclitus and Socrates 29
III. The Academy and the Porch 53
IV. The Preaching of Stoicism 78
V. The Stoic Sect in Rome 99
VI. Of Reason and Speech 128
VII. The Foundations of Physics 155
VIII. The Universe 175
IX. The Supreme Problems 198
X. Religion 216
XI. The Kingdom of the Soul 238
XII. The Law for Humanity 273
XIII. Daily Duties 301
XIV. Sin and Weakness 330
XV. Counsels of Perfection 357
XVI. Stoicism in Roman History and Literature 380
XVII. The Stoic Strain in Christianity 408
Bibliography:
I. Ancient Writers and Philosophers 437
II. Modern Writers 445
General Index 451
Greek Index 466

CHAPTER I.
THE WORLD-RELIGIONS.

Roman literature. 1. The present work treats of a subject of outstanding
interest in the literature which is associated with the
history of the Roman State, and which is expressed partly in Hellenistic
Greek, partly in Latin. In the generations preceding our own, classical study
has, to a large extent, attended to form rather than to matter, to expression
rather than to content. To-day it is beginning to take a wider outlook. We are
learning to look on literature as an unveiling of the human mind in its
various stages of development, and as a key to the true meaning of history.
The literature of Greece proper does not cease to attract us by its originality,
charm, and variety; but the new interest may yet find its fullest satisfaction
in Roman literature; for of all ancient peoples the Romans achieved most,
and their achievements have been the most enduring. It was the Roman who
joined the ends of the world by his roads and his bridges, poured into
crowded towns unfailing supplies of corn and perennial streams of pure
water, cleared the countryside of highwaymen, converted enemies into
neighbours, created ideals of brotherhood under which the nations were
united by common laws and unfettered marriage relations, and so shaped a
new religion that if it shattered an empire it yet became the mother of many
nations. We are the inheritors of Roman civilization; and if we have far
surpassed it in scientific knowledge and material plenty, we are not equally
confident that we possess better mental balance, or more complete social
harmony. In this direction the problems of Roman life are the problems of
Western life to-day; and the methods by which they were approached in the
Roman world deserve more than ever to be studied by us. Such a study, if it
is to be in any true sense historical, must break through the convention by
which ancient Greece and Rome have come to be treated as a world apart; it
must seek its starting point in the distant past, and count that of chief
importance which will bear fruit in the ages that follow.
Beliefs of the 2. Great achievements are born of strong convictions;
Romans. and Roman statesmen, jurists, soldiers, and engineers

did not learn to ‘scorn delights and live laborious days’ without some strong
impulse from within. These inner convictions do not come to the surface
everywhere in the Latin literature with which we are most familiar. The
Roman orator or poet is generally content to express a conventional view of
religion and morals, whilst he conceals his real thoughts in a spirit of
reticence and almost of shame. Yet here and there every attentive reader
will catch the accent of sincerity, sometimes in the less restrained
conversation of the lower classes, sometimes in flights of poetic
imagination, or again in instruction designed for the young. In this way we
learn that the Romans of the last century of the republic and of the first
century of the principate were profoundly concerned, not so much with
questions connected with the safety of their empire or the justice of their
form of government, as with problems in which all mankind has a common
interest. What is truth, and how can it be ascertained? What is this universe
in which we dwell, and by whom and how was it made? What are the
beings called gods, and do they concern themselves with the affairs of men?
What is man’s nature, his duty, and his destiny? These the Romans called
the problems of philosophy, and they eagerly sought for definite and
practical solutions to them[1]. Such solutions when embodied in theoretical
systems we still call ‘philosophies’; but when such systems are developed
in a practical form and claim the obedience of large bodies of men they
become religions. Stoicism is in the first instance a philosophy, and
amongst its many competitors that one which appealed most successfully to
the judgment of men who played a leading part in the Roman world; but as
its acceptance becomes more general, it begins to assume all the features of
a religion. All Latin literature is thickly strewn with allusions to Stoicism
and the systems which were its rivals, and thus bears witness to the
widespread interest which they excited.
Origin of 3. The Romans learnt philosophy from Greek
Philosophy. teachers; and they were not free from a sense of shame
in thus sitting at the feet of the children of a conquered
race. But they acknowledged their obligations in a generous spirit; and from
Roman literature an impression has arisen, which is still widespread, that
Greece was the birthplace of philosophy, and that its triumphs must be
placed to the credit of Hellenic culture. But to the Hellenes themselves
philosophy equally appeared as a foreign fashion, assailing their national
beliefs and dangerous to their established morality; and of its teachers many

of the most distinguished were immigrants from Asia Minor. Thus Greece
itself appears only as a halting-place in the movement of philosophy; and
we are carried more and more to the East as we seek to discover its origin.
Yet at the time with which we are concerned it had also spread to the
extreme West. ‘The Magi,’ says Aristotle, ‘taught the Persians philosophy;
the Chaldaeans taught it to the Babylonians and Assyrians; the
Gymnosophists to the Indians; the Druids and Semnothei to the Gauls and
Celts[2].’ It was a world-wide stirring of the human intellect, and we must
attempt to outline its meaning more completely.
National and 4. Philosophy, in the sense in which Aristotle uses the
World-Religions. term, appears to be a general name for a great change in
man’s intellectual attitude towards his environment,
corresponding to a definite era in the history of civilization. Before
philosophy came nationalism, the habit of thinking according to clan and
race; and nationalism remains on record for us in the numerous national
religions in which each people does reverence to the deity which lives
within its borders and goes forth to fight with its armies. Philosophy is at
once broader in its outlook and more intimate in its appeal. It breaks down
the barriers of race, and includes the whole world in its survey; but on the
other hand it justifies the individual in asserting his own thoughts and
choosing his own way of life. Thus philosophy on its arrival appears in each
particular country as a disintegrating force; it strikes at the roots of
patriotism and piety, and challenges equally the authority of king and of
priest. But everywhere in turn philosophy, as it gains ground, begins to
construct a new patriotism and a new piety, and gradually takes concrete
shape as a new religion. To us, as we look backwards to the past, the track
of philosophy is recorded by a series of religions, all alike marked with the
note of world-wide outlook, reverence for reason, and the sentiment of
human sympathy. The era of philosophy is the era of the world-religions. It
belongs to that millennium when from China to Ireland men of good will
and bold spirit realized that they all looked up toward one sky, breathed one
air, and travelled on one all-encircling sea; when they dreamed that before
long all men should be united in one kingdom, converse in one language,
and obey the one unchanging law of reason.
Spread of the 5. The general importance and direction of this
World-Religions. movement will best be seen if we select for

consideration a certain number of the world-religions in which it was from
time to time embodied. Aristotle has already called our attention to the
‘philosophies’ of the Chaldaeans, the Persians, and the Indians; amongst
these last Buddhism at least was a movement which had shaken off
limitations of race and class. To these he has added the Druids, whom we
may well keep in mind if only because they are representatives of Western
Europe. Stoicism best represents the part played by the Greco-Roman
world, and Judaism and Christianity come under consideration as forces
with which Stoicism in the course of its history came into close contact. The
Greeks little realized that they were being carried along in so mighty a
stream. Regarding themselves as isolated and elevated, the sole pioneers of
civilization in a ‘barbarian’ world, the beliefs of neighbouring peoples
seemed to them beneath their notice. To this prejudice they clung in spite of
the protests of their own men of learning[3]; the Romans inherited it from
them; and though the Europe of the Middle Ages and of to-day professes an
Oriental faith, its religious survey is still limited and its critical power
impaired by the same assumption of superior wisdom. Our information is
however wider than that of the ancient world, and our sympathies are
beginning to be quickened; and we are thus in a position to trace generally
the history of these seven religions. In this work we shall use, as far as
possible, the classical authorities, supplementing them (where deficient)
from other sources.
Chaldaism. 6. The oldest of these philosophical or religious
systems is that of the Chaldaeans, as the Romans termed
a pastoral, star-gazing folk[4] presumably identical with the people which, in
or about the year 2800 b.c.[5], mapped out the constellations as we now
know them, traced the orbits of the planets[6], and predicted their future
movements. This work was not carried out entirely in the spirit of modern
science; it was further stimulated by the belief that the skies displayed a
written message to mankind. But the nature of that message, of which
fragments are possibly embodied in the names of the constellations, was not
preserved to the Romans by any tradition. Two principles seem to have
survived, those of the inexorable tie between cause and effect called
‘fate[7],’ and of the interdependence of events in heaven and on earth[8].
Hence arose the hope of prophetic insight into the future; and the people of
Babylon, under Chaldaean influence, are said to have spent four hundred

and seventy years in collecting observations of the history of boys born
under particular combinations of the heavenly bodies[9]. We are not
acquainted with the results of these observations; but undoubtedly they
established a profession of astrologers, whose craft it was to observe the
position of sun, moon and stars at a man’s birth or at some other critical
hour, and thence to deduce his future character or career. These wanderers,
called by the Romans ‘Chaldaei’ or ‘Mathematici,’ spread over all Europe,
and founded a lucrative trade on men’s fears and ambitions. Philosophers
studied their methods, and did not always entirely deny their validity[10]. In
society the astrologer is a common figure[11]; he found his way to the
chambers of princes[12], and was regularly consulted by conspirators. The
dramatic scene in Walter Scott’s Betrothed is as true in character to Roman
times as to the Middle Ages. Roman literature is full of allusions to the
horoscope[13]. But whether we attribute these practices to fraud or to self-
deception, there is every reason to believe that they only form a diseased
outgrowth from a system which at an earlier time was of much wider
import.
Persism. 7. The popular expression ‘magic’ still recalls to us
the system of which the Magi of Persia were the
professed exponents, and of which the Romans had a knowledge which is to
a large extent confirmed from other sources. This system we shall here call
‘Persism,’ in order to free ourselves of the popular associations still
connected with such terms as Magism, Parsee-ism, and so forth; meaning
by ‘Persism’ the teaching of Zarathustra (the Latin Zoroastres) as it affected
the Greek and Latin world. Persism has its roots in the older nationalism,
inasmuch as its deity is one who takes sides with his believer and brings
him victory in war; but on the other hand it grows into a world-religion
because that which begins as a conflict between races gradually changes
into a struggle between right and wrong. It is based also on the Chaldaean
system, in so far as it looks up to the heaven as the object of human
reverence and to the sun, moon and planets as at least the symbols of human
destiny; but here again the outlook is transformed, for in the place of
impersonal and inexorable forces we find a company of celestial beings,
intimately concerned in the affairs of men, and engaged in an ardent
struggle for the victory of the better side. The meaning of Persism and its

immense influence on the Greco-Roman world are still so little realized that
it is necessary here to deal with the subject with some fulness.
Zarathustra. 8. The Greeks and Romans refer to the teachings of
Zarathustra as of immemorial antiquity[14]; whilst on the
other hand the direct Persian tradition (existing in a written form from about
the year 800 a.d.) ascribes them to a date 258 years before the era of
Alexander’s invasion of Persia[15]. The best modern authorities incline to
the Persian view, thus giving the date of about 600 b.c. to Zarathustra, and
making him roughly a contemporary of the Buddha and Confucius[16]. On
the other hand considerations, partly of the general history of religion,
partly of the linguistic and metrical character of such fragments of
Zarathustra’s writings as still remain, indicate a date earlier than this by
many hundred years[17]. Zarathustra belonged to the tribe of the Magi, who
maintained religious practices of which the nature can only be inferred from
such of them as survived the prophet’s reforms[18]; in their general character
they cannot have differed widely from those recorded in the Rigveda. In the
midst of this system Zarathustra came forward as a reformer. He was deeply
learned in the doctrines of the Chaldaeans[19], and was an ardent student of
astronomy[20]. In a period of solitary contemplation in the desert[21], it was
revealed to him that a great and wise being, named Ahura Mazdā, was the
creator and ruler of heaven and earth[22]. Upon him attend Angels who do
him service; whilst the spirit of Mischief and his attendants ceaselessly
work to oppose his purposes. Ahura is the light, his enemy is the
darkness[23]. The struggle between them is that between right and wrong,
and in it every man must take one or the other side. His soul will survive
what men call death, and receive an everlasting reward according to his
deeds. After quitting the mortal body, the soul will pass over the Bridge of
Judgment, and will there be turned aside to the right or to the left; if it has
been virtuous, to enter Paradise, but if vicious, the House of Falsehood. Full
of this doctrine, Zarathustra enters the court of King Vishtāspa, and
converts him and his court. The monarch in turn sets out to convert the
unbelieving world by the sword, and the War of Religion begins.
Spread of Persism. 9. We cannot trace the long history of the War of
Religion through its whole course, but in the end we find
that the Religion has welded together the great kingdom of Persia, and its

warlike zeal is directed towards establishing throughout the world the
worship of the ‘God of heaven,’ and the destruction of all images, whether
in the shape of men or of beasts, as dishonouring to the divine nature. In the
sixth century b.c. Babylon opposed the Religion in the east, and Lydia in
the west; both fell before Cyrus the Great. The fall of Babylon set free the
Jews, who accepted the king’s commission to establish the Religion in
Jerusalem[24], and (at a rather later date) in Egypt[25]; on the other hand that
of Lydia exposed the Hellenes, a people devoted to idol-worship, to the fury
of the image-breakers[26]. The battles of Marathon and Salamis checked the
warlike advance of Persism, and the victories of Alexander suppressed its
outward observance and destroyed its literature and its priesthood. But in
this period of apparent depression some at least of its doctrines were
winning still wider acceptance than before.
Persism invades 10. The departure of the Persians from Europe was the
Greece. signal for an outburst of enthusiasm in Greece for the
old gods and their worship with the aid of images. Yet,
unfavourable as the time might seem, a monotheistic sentiment developed
apace in Hellas, which we shall follow more closely in the next chapter[27].
Even Herodotus, writing as a fair-minded historian, no longer regards the
Persians as impious, but realizes that they are actuated by conviction[28].
Socrates was an outspoken defender of all the main articles of the Religion,
to the horror of nationalists like Aristophanes, who not unjustly accused
him of corrupting the loyalty of the youth of Athens to the institutions of
their mother city. Xenophon, the most intimate of his disciples, translated
this bias into action, and joined with the 10,000 Greeks in a vain effort to
re-establish the strength of Persia: he did not even hesitate to engage in war
against his native land. To him Cyrus the Persian was a greater hero than
any Homeric warrior or Greek sage; and from Cyrus he drew the belief in
the immortality of the soul which from this time on is one of the chief
subjects of philosophic speculation.
Persism welcomed 11. The Romans had not the same national motives as
in Rome. the Greeks to feel an antipathy to Persism. For the
doctrine of monotheism they had probably been
prepared by their Etruscan sovereigns, and the temple of Capitoline Jove
kept before their eyes a symbol of this sentiment. But in the Roman period
Persian sovereignty had receded to the far distance, and the doctrines of

Persism only reached Rome through the Greek language and in Greek form.
Thus of the doctrines of the Evil Spirit, the war between Good and Evil, and
the future punishment of the wicked, only faint echoes ever reached the
Roman ear. On the other hand the doctrines of the divine government of the
world and of the immortality of the soul made a deep impression; and
Cicero in a well-known passage repeats and amplifies the account
Xenophon gives in his Cyropaedia of the dying words of Cyrus, which is
doubtless to some extent coloured by recollections of the death of Socrates:

‘We read in Xenophon that Cyrus the elder on his death-
bed spoke as follows—“Do not think, my very dear children,
that when I quit you I shall no longer be in existence. So
long as I was with you, you never saw my soul, but you
realized from my actions that it dwelt in this my body.
Believe then that it will still exist, even if you see nothing of
it. Honours would not continue to be paid to great men after
death, did not their souls assist us to maintain their memory
in freshness. I have never been able to persuade myself that
souls live whilst they are enclosed in mortal bodies, and die
when they issue from them; nor that the soul becomes dull at
the moment it leaves this dull body; I believe that when it
has freed itself from all contact with the body and has begun
to exist in purity and perfection, then it becomes wise.
Further, when the framework of humanity is broken up in
death, we see clearly whither each of its parts speeds away,
for all go to the elements from which they have sprung; the
soul alone is not seen by us either whilst it is with us or
when it departs. Lastly nothing resembles death so closely as
sleep. But men’s souls, whilst they themselves sleep, most
clearly reveal their divine nature; for then, being set free
from their prison house, they often foresee things to come.
From this we may gather what their properties will be, when
they have utterly freed themselves from the fetters of the
body. If then this is so, do reverence to me as a god; but if
the soul is destined to perish with the body, still do
reverence to the gods, who guard and rule all this beauteous
world, and while so doing keep up the memory of me in

loyal and unalterable affection.” So spoke Cyrus on his
death-bed[29].’

The manifold deity. 12. The Persian doctrine of the ‘Angels’ seems to
have been very little understood either in Greece or at
Rome, but, as we shall see in the course of this book, it profoundly
influenced the course of religious history. The ‘Angels’ or good Spirits of
Persism are, from one point of view, identical with the Creator himself,
forms under which he manifests himself to men. Their names are all those
of abstractions: the Good Mind, the Best Reason, the Desired Kingdom,
Holy Humility, Salvation, and Immortality[30]. On the other hand, they
gradually assume to the worshipper who contemplates them the appearance
of separate personalities, dwelling, like the Creator himself, in an
atmosphere of heavenly Glory. Thus a system which is in principle strictly
monotheistic gradually developes into one in which the deity is sevenfold,
as in the following hymn from the later part of the Avesta:

‘We praise the heavenly Glory.
The mighty, the god-given,
The praiseworthy, the life-giving,
Healing, strengthening, watching
High above the other creatures.

The Glory that belongs to the Immortal Spirits,
The rulers, that act by a look alone,
The lofty, all-powerful ones,
The strong servants of the All-wise,
That live for ever, and work justice.

All seven have the same Thought,
All seven have the same Word,
All seven have the same Deed.
One Thought, one Word, one Deed, one Father and Master
The All-wise, the Creator[31].’

Of these ‘Angels’ one was destined to play a considerable part in several
of the world-religions; namely that which the Persians called the ‘Best
Reason,’ and which the Greeks knew as Wisdom (σοφία) or the Word
(λόγος). Sometimes an aspect of the Deity, sometimes an emanation from
him, and then again a distinguishable personality, this figure is again and
again presented to our consideration. The personification of abstractions
appealed with special force to the Romans, for from the earliest periods of
their history they had raised temples to Faith (fides), Concord (concordia),
and other deified virtues; and its character can perhaps best be appreciated
by reference to the personification of Light in Christian hymnology, both
ancient and modern:

‘Hail, gladdening Light, of his pure glory poured
Who is the immortal Father, heavenly, blest[32]!’

‘Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom
Lead thou me on[33].’

Sanctity of the 13. Amongst the subsidiary, but still important,
elements. doctrines of Persism, is that of the sanctity of the four
elements. Earth, air, fire and water are alike holy. Hence
the dead must not be buried, for that would be to defile the earth; nor
burned, for that would be to defile fire[34]; nor may any impurity be thrown
into the water. This respect for the elements often appeared to strangers as
worship of them[35]. Between the elements they sometimes discriminated,
considering earth and water as more akin to darkness and the evil spirit, but
fire and air to light and the good spirit[36]. The element of fire they held in
special reverence, so that at all times they have been called fire-
worshippers[37]. More careful observers have always recognised them as
monotheists, distinguished by a certain rapturous language in their
description of the deity which they refused to picture in any concrete
shape[38]. They were also zealous that their teaching should find its

expression in a healthy social and political life[39]. In the education of the
young they laid a special stress on speaking the truth[40].
Alexander in the 14. ‘The Gymnosophists taught philosophy to the
East. people of India[41].’ Who are the teachers thus indicated?
An answer may be found, though of a later date, in
Plutarch’s ‘Life of Alexander,’ where he describes the meeting of Alexander
with some eminent gymnosophists, who had stirred up opposition to his
rule:—

‘[Alexander] captured ten of the Indian philosophers
called Gymnosophistae[42]; who had been instrumental in
causing Sabbas to revolt, and had done much mischief to the
Macedonians. These men are renowned for their short, pithy
answers, and Alexander put difficult questions to all of them,
telling them that he would first put to death the man who
answered him worst, and so the rest in order.
The first was asked whether he thought the living or the
dead to be the more numerous. He answered “The living, for
the dead are not.”
The second was asked, “Which breeds the largest animals,
the sea or the land?” He answered “The land, for the sea is
only a part of it.”
The third was asked, “Which is the cleverest of beasts?”
He answered “That which man has not yet discovered.”
The fourth was asked why he made Sabbas rebel. He
answered “Because I wished him either to live or to die with
honour.”
The fifth was asked, which he thought was first, the day
or the night. He answered “The day was first, by one day.”
As he saw that the king was surprised by this answer, he
added “Impossible questions require impossible answers.”
Alexander now asked the sixth how a man could make
himself most beloved. He answered “By being very

powerful, and yet not feared by his subjects.”
Of the remaining three, the first was asked how a man
could become a god. He answered “By doing that which it is
impossible for a man to do.”
The next was asked which was the stronger, life or death.
He answered “Life, because it endures such terrible
suffering.”
The last, being asked how long it was honourable for a
man to live, answered “As long as he thinks it better for him
to live than to die.”
The king loaded them with presents, and dismissed
them[43].’

Were the 15. In these ‘gymnosophists’ it is easy to recognise a
Gymnosophists type familiar to Indian antiquity. These men, who have
Buddhists?
almost dispensed with clothing and know nothing of the
luxuries or even the conveniences of life, are nevertheless influential
leaders of the people. They, like the Persians, have broken away from the
old religions; they talk lightly of the gods, and do not guide their actions by
any decrees supposed divine. The sight of human sorrow fills them with
sympathy for the ills of life, and makes them doubt whether death is not the
better choice. Their ethical standard is high, and includes both courage and
gentleness. That they are Buddhist monks is probable enough, but not
certain, because India contained at this time many sects professing similar
principles. But the teaching of Gautama, the Buddha or ‘enlightened,’
represents to us in the most definite form the nature of this propaganda. It
implies a revolt against national rivalries, ritualist observances, and
polytheistic beliefs; it is severely practical, and inculcates obedience to
reason and universal benevolence; and it is spread from East to West by
devoted bands of ascetic missionaries.
Buddhist teaching. 16. The fundamental teachings of Buddhism appear
clearly in the traditional account of the Sermon of
Benares:

This is the holy truth of Sorrow; birth is Sorrow, age is
Sorrow, disease is Sorrow, death is Sorrow; to be joined with
the unloved is Sorrow, to be parted from the loved is
Sorrow; to lose one’s desire is Sorrow; shortly, the five-fold
clinging to existence is Sorrow.
‘This is the holy truth of the Origin of Sorrow; it is the
thirst to be, leading from birth to birth, finding its pleasure
here and there; the thirst for pleasure, the thirst to be, the
thirst to be prosperous.
This is the holy truth of the Removing of Sorrow; the
removal of the thirst by destroying desire, by letting it go, by
cutting oneself off from it, separating from it, giving it no
place.
This is the holy truth of the Path to the Removing of
Sorrow; it is the holy Path of eight branches, which is called
Right Belief, Right Aspiration, Right Word, Right Act, Right
Life, Right Effort, Right Meditation, Right Annihilation of
Self[44].’

Specially characteristic of Buddhism is that gentleness of temper,
instinctively opposed to all anger and cruelty, which no provocation can
turn aside. We read in the Dhammapada:

‘Hatred does not cease by hatred at any time; hatred
ceases by love; this is an old rule. Let a man overcome anger
by love, let him overcome evil by good; let him overcome
the greedy by liberality, the liar by truth[45].’

Buddhists and 17. The doctrines of Buddhism were not inculcated in
Cynics. India alone. From the first it was a missionary religion;
and its emissaries must often have appeared in the
Hellenistic world, promising ‘to seekers after God eternal communion with
his very essence, to the weary pessimist eternal forgetfulness[46].’ From
contemporary Indian inscriptions we learn of missionaries sent out by
Açoka, the first great Buddhist king of India, ‘with healing herbs and yet

more healing doctrine’[47] to Ptolemy II king of Egypt, Antiochus of Syria,
and others, before the year 250 b.c.; and this mission can have been but one
out of many. It thus appears very remarkable that we have no record of
Buddhist communities established in the Greco-Roman world. But if the
name of Gautama remained unknown to the West, and his community had
no formal adherents, the manner of life of his apostles did not lack
imitators. In the Cynic preacher the Buddhist monk reappears. In Greek
literature he is usually an object of ridicule; his uncouth appearance, his
pitiable poverty, and his unconventional speech give constant opportunity
for the wit of his critics. But the Cynics carried with them not only the
outward garb of the Buddhist monks, but also their lofty ethical standard,
their keen sympathy with human troubles, and their indifference to purely
speculative problems[48]. In spite of the contempt heaped upon them (or
perhaps in consequence of it) they gradually won respect and admiration as
the sincere friends and helpers of the poor. Thus Buddhism at its best is
pictured for us in the sketches drawn by Epictetus of Diogenes and the
Cynic preachers of his own day, of which the following are examples:

‘Did Diogenes love nobody, who was so kind and so
much a lover of all that for mankind in general he willingly
undertook so much labour and bodily suffering? He did love
mankind, but how? As became a minister of God, at the
same time caring for men, and being also subject to God.
For this reason all the earth was his country, and not one
particular place; and when he was taken prisoner he did not
regret Athens nor his associates and friends there, but even
he became familiar with the pirates and tried to improve
them; and being sold afterwards he lived in Corinth as
before at Athens. Thus is freedom acquired[49].’
‘And how is it possible that a man who has nothing, who
is naked, houseless, without a hearth, squalid, without a
slave, without a city, can pass a life that flows easily? See,
God has sent you a man to shew you it is possible. Look at
me, who am without a city, without a house, without
possessions, without a slave; I sleep on the ground; I have
no wife, no children, no praetorium, but only the earth and

heavens, and one poor cloak. And what do I want? Am I not
without sorrow? Am I not without fear? Am I not free?
When did any of you see me failing in the object of my
desire, or ever falling into that which I would avoid? did I
ever blame God or man? did I ever accuse any man? did any
of you ever see me with sorrowful countenance?
This is the language of the Cynics, this their character,
this their purpose[50].’

Except that a simple form of theism has replaced the Buddhist atheism,
there is hardly a word here that we might not expect from a Buddhist monk.
Stoicism. 18. The Stoic philosophy was founded by Zeno of
Citium (350-260 b.c.). Although he lived and taught at
Athens, his youth was spent in a city that was half Phoenician, and many of
his most distinguished followers had a like association with the Eastern
world. The system deals with all the great themes touched upon by
Chaldaism, Persism, and Buddhism. Like the first, it insists that there exists
an unchanging Destiny, according to which events throughout the universe
are predetermined from all eternity. Like the second, it sets up as claiming
the worship and allegiance of men a Supreme Deity, who governs the world
with boundless power and benevolent will, and is manifested to men as the
Logos or ‘divine Word.’ In its interpretation of the physical universe it
accepts as a first principle a living and creative fire, ultimately identical
with the deity, and containing the germs of the whole creation. It sees in the
will of man an independent and divine power, subject to no compulsion
from without, but attaining its highest and best by willing submission to the
Supreme Being. In its practical ethics, though it does not advocate the
suppression of all desires, it so far agrees with Buddhism as to hold that
happiness is only found in the subordination of individual claims to the
voice of universal reason. Finally, its teachers are actively engaged in
propagating its doctrines and guiding its disciples. Stoicism has, in short,
the inward and outward characteristics of the other great movements we
have described, and may claim without presumption to be reckoned
amongst the world-religions[51].

Comprehensiveness 19. If however we reckon Stoicism amongst the
of the Stoic view. world-religions, we must not forget that of all of them it
is the most philosophical, and this in a double sense. In
the first place the founders of Stoicism are conscious of the problems to
which preceding schools of thought have endeavoured to find answers, and
attempt to reconcile or at any rate to bring into relation the answers which
their predecessors have found. Secondly they are greatly occupied with
intellectual problems, and clearness of thought is to them almost equally
important with rightness of thought. The theory of Fate which we have
attributed to the Chaldaeans is to the plain man irreconcileable with the
doctrine of the government of the world by a Supreme Deity; yet the Stoics
hold both dogmas. The theory of the freedom of the human will is a
limitation equally of the dominion of Fate and of that of the Deity: the
Stoics maintain the freedom of the human will and refuse to admit the
limitation of either power. The Persians maintained that the power of the
principle of Good was balanced by that of the principle of Evil; and from
this they drew what seemed to be the legitimate conclusion that man may
choose to obey the one or the other, to do good or to do evil. The Stoics
omitted the principle of Evil altogether from their scheme, and yet
maintained the theory of the moral choice. To understand the Stoic system it
is necessary to know exactly in what balance its different elements were
maintained, and to avoid identifying it with other systems, ancient or
modern, which are more sharply cut. Thus when it is commonly asserted
that Stoicism on its religious side is Pantheism, the very brevity of this
summary must create suspicion. Certainly the Stoics frequently speak of the
universe as divine; but they hold with equal firmness the doctrines that the
universe is governed by Providence, and that human perversity may thwart
the divine purpose, both being doctrines which in ancient as in modern
times are associated with Theism, and held to be inconsistent with
pantheistic views.
God and the 20. A similar difficulty confronts us when we ask
‘Word.’ whether the deity of the Stoics is to be considered as
personal. All the terms commonly used in association
with a personal deity are adopted by the Stoics: their god is Lord and
Father. But then they use with equal freedom terms commonly associated
with materialism: for the Supreme Being is to them body or stuff, a
primitive fire which converts itself by natural laws into every form of being.

For this reason the Stoics are commonly called materialists, and yet the
main body of their teaching is contrary to that usually associated with
materialism[52]. Further, beside the personal and the material conceptions of
the Deity, they adopted and developed a conception which exercised an
extraordinary influence over other systems, when they attributed the
exercise of all the powers of deity to the divine Word, which from one point
of view is the deity himself, and from another is something which emanates
from him and is in some way distinct. Thus the term ‘God,’ which to
children and child-like religions appears so simple, is in the Stoic system
extraordinarily complex; and its full content cannot be grasped without a
willingness to revise the meaning of many conceptions which seem firmly
established, such as those of personality, material, and quality. If we are to
suppose that the Stoic conception of the Word arose ultimately from similar
conceptions in Hebraism or Persism, by which the voice of a personal God
attained to a quasi-independent personality, we must allow that the Stoics
made use of this term with a boldness and consistency which from the time
of their appearance brought it into the forefront of religious and
metaphysical controversy. Through the Stoics the doctrine of the Word
passed into the systems of Judaism and Christianity, to perform in each the
like service by reconciling doctrines apparently contradictory. Of all the
systems we may perhaps say that Stoicism makes the fewest new assertions
or negations, but introduces the most numerous interpretations.
Influence of 21. We have comparatively little means of judging of
Stoicism. the influence of Stoicism in the world of Asia Minor, but
incidentally we may infer that it was very considerable.
In Athens the moral earnestness of its teachers found little response in
public feeling, whilst it laid the exponents of its tenets open to many a sharp
thrust from keen critics whose constructive powers were after all inferior. In
Rome itself Stoicism took root rapidly. The brilliant circle that gathered
round Scipio Africanus the younger was imbued with its ideals; Cato, the
leading republican of the first century b.c., was a living representative of its
principles; and Cicero and Brutus, with many others less known to fame,
were greatly influenced by it. In the first century of the principate Stoicism
imparted a halo of heroism to a political and social opposition which
otherwise would evoke little sympathy[53]; in the second century a.d. its
influence was thrown on the side of the government; the civilized world

was ruled under its flag, and its principles were embodied in successive
codes of law which are not yet extinct. Its direct supremacy was not long-
lived; for at the very time when a Stoic philosopher sits in the seat of the
Caesars its followers seem to be losing their hold on its most important
doctrines. It came into sharp conflict with Christianity on matters of
outward observance; but in the cores of the two systems there was much
likeness[54], and from Stoic homes were drawn the most intelligent
advocates of the newer faith.
Judaism. 22. By Judaism we mean here the way of thinking
which was prevalent in the Jewish world from the date
of the return from Babylon to that of the destruction of Jerusalem. Judaism
was of course by no means restricted to the soil of Palestine; it was carried
by the diffusion of the Jewish race to all the coasts of the Mediterranean;
besides its national centre at Jerusalem, it included a great centre of learning
at Alexandria, and its branches, as we have seen[55], extended to the south
of Egypt. The chief external impulse which affected it was the spread of
Persism. The two systems agreed in their belief in a God of heaven, and in
their dislike to idol-worship; and it can be no matter of wonder if one party
at least among the Jews readily accepted the more strictly Persian doctrines
of the ministry of angels, the struggle between good and evil, the
immortality of the soul, and the reward after death, as well as such
observances as the washing of hands[56]. Strong Persian influence has been
traced in the book of Daniel[57], and as Jewish speculation developed at
Alexandria, it took up the use of the Greek language, and so came into
touch with the influences that were moulding thought throughout Asia
Minor[58]. The most interesting and elevated production of Alexandrine
Judaism is the book known as the Wisdom of Solomon, probably composed
in the first century b.c.[59]
‘The Wisdom of 23. The author of this book, whilst himself a firm
Solomon.’ adherent of monotheism, shews a not altogether
intolerant appreciation of those systems in which either
the heavenly bodies or the elements seem to occupy the most important
place:—

1.
For verily all men by nature were but vain who had no perception of
God,
And from the good things that are seen they gained not power to
know him that is,
Neither by giving heed to the works did they recognise the
artificer;

2.
But either fire, or wind, or swift air,
Or circling stars, or raging water, or the luminaries of heaven,
They thought to be gods that rule the world.

3.
And if it was through delight in their beauty that they took them to be
the gods,
Let them know how much better than these is their sovereign
Lord:
For the first author of beauty created them:

4.
But if it was through astonishment at their power and influence,
Let them understand from them how much more powerful is he
that formed them:

5.
For from the greatness of the beauty even of created things
In like proportion does man form the image of their first maker.

6.
But yet for these men there is but small blame,
For they too peradventure do but go astray
While they are seeking God and desiring to find him.

Wisdom of Solomon, xiii 1-6.

The same author rises to still greater heights when he personifies Wisdom
or Philosophy as a Spirit attendant upon, and almost identified with the
deity. Here his language resembles that of the Avestic hymns, describing the
angels attendant upon Ahura Mazdā[60]:—

22.
For there is in Wisdom a spirit quick of understanding, holy,
Alone in kind, manifold,
Subtil, freely moving,
Clear in utterance, unpolluted,
Distinct, unharmed,
Loving what is good, keen, unhindered,

23.
Beneficent, loving toward man,
Stedfast, sure, free from care.
All-powerful, all-surveying,
And penetrating through all spirits
That are quick of understanding, pure, most subtil:

24.
For wisdom is more mobile than any motion:
Yea, she pervadeth and penetrateth all things by reason of her
pureness.

25.
For she is a breath of the power of God,
And a clear effluence of the glory of the Almighty:
Therefore can nothing defiled find entrance into her.

26.
For she is an effulgence from everlasting light,
And an unspotted mirror of the working of God,
And an image of his goodness.

27.
And she, being one, hath power to do all things:
And remaining in herself, reneweth all things,
And from generation to generation passing into holy souls
She maketh men friends of God, and prophets;

29.
For she is fairer than the sun

For she is fairer than the sun,
And above all the constellations of the stars.

Wisdom of Solomon, vii 22-29.

Philo the Jew. 24. The fusion of Greek and Judaic modes of thought
is most complete in the works of Philo the Jew (c. 20
b.c.-54 a.d.). This writer in commenting upon the books of the Old
Testament, finds himself able by way of interpretation to introduce large
parts of Greek philosophies. The place of Wisdom in the writer last named
is taken in his works by the Logos or ‘Word[61]’; and the ‘Word’ is many
times described as an emanation of the deity, after the Persian fashion[62].
Without anticipating the further discussion of this philosophical conception,
we may well notice here how characteristic it is of an age which paid
boundless homage to reason, and how it supplies a counterpoise to
conceptions of the deity which are rigidly personal. But Philo is of still
more direct service to the study of Stoicism, because he had so completely
absorbed the system that, where other authorities fail us, we may often trust
to his expositions for a knowledge of details of the Stoic system.
Another work of about the same period is the Fourth book of the
Maccabees, in which Stoic ethics, only slightly disguised, are illustrated
from Jewish history. In this fusion of Hebraic and Hellenistic thought,
unfortunately interrupted by political convulsions, eminent modern Jews
have recognised the natural development of the teaching of the Hebrew
prophets[63].
Christianity. 25. The foregoing discussions will already have
suggested that Christianity is bound by intimate ties to
the other world-religions; though it is beyond our present purpose to
examine the precise nature of those ties. It is pre-eminently concerned with
the breaking down of Jewish nationalism, and its constant appeal to ‘the
truth’ is essentially the same as the appeal of kindred systems to ‘wisdom’
or ‘philosophy.’ The Lord’s Prayer, addressed to the ‘Father in heaven,’ and
with its further references to ‘The Name,’ ‘The Kingdom,’ ‘The Will,’
‘temptation,’ and ‘the Evil One,’ reflects the principal conceptions of
Persism, of which we are again reminded in the Apocalypse by the
reference to the ‘seven spirits of God[64].’ The Sermon on the Mount has

been, not without reason, compared to the Buddhist sermon of Benares.
With Stoicism Christianity has special ties, both direct and indirect. Its chief
apostle was Paul of Tarsus, who was brought up in a city from which more
than one eminent Stoic teacher had proceeded[65], and whose ways of
thinking are penetrated by Stoic conceptions. The most profound exponent
of its theology (the author of the Gospel according to John) placed in the
forefront of his system the doctrine of the ‘Word’ which directly or (more
probably) indirectly he derived from Stoic sources. The early church writers
felt the kinship of thought without perceiving the historical relation. To
them Cicero in his Stoic works was ‘anima naturaliter Christiana’; and they
could only explain the lofty teachings of Seneca by the belief that he was a
secret convert of the apostle Paul[66]. Parallelism between Stoic and
Christian phraseology is indeed so frequently traced that it may be well to
emphasize the need of caution. It is not by single phrases, often reflecting
only the general temper of the times, that we can judge the relation of the
two systems; it is necessary also to take into account the general framework
and the fundamental principles of each.
Druidism. 26. Of the systems named by Aristotle far the least
known to us is Druidism. It appeared to Caesar and other
Romans to be the national religion of the Gauls and Britons, exactly as
Magism appeared to the Greeks to be the national religion of the Persians.
But other evidence indicates that Druidism was a reformed religion or
philosophy, not unlike Persism in its principles. The training of Druidical
students was long and arduous; it claimed to introduce them to a knowledge
of heavenly deities denied to the rest of the world, and to reveal to them the
immortality of the soul. Our best authority is the Latin poet Lucan:—

‘To you alone it has been granted to know the gods and
the powers of heaven; or (it may be) to you alone to know
them wrongly. You dwell in deep forests and far-away
groves: according to your teaching the shades do not make
their way to the still regions of Erebus or the grey realm of
Dis below; the same spirit guides a new body in another
world; if you know well what you say, then death is but an
interlude in life. If not, at least the peoples, on whom the
northern star gazes directly, are happy in their illusion; for

the greatest of terrors, the fear of death, is nothing to them.
Hence it comes that their warriors’ hearts are ready to meet
the sword, and their souls have a welcome for death, and
they scorn to be thrifty with life, in which they can claim a
second share[67].’

Druidism, like Stoicism, seems to have prepared its adherents for a
specially ready acceptance of Christianity.
The goal not 27. The story of the world-religions, with their
reached yet. countless prophets, teachers, confessors and martyrs, has
its tragic side. We ask what was attained by so much
study and self-denial, such courageous defiance of custom and prejudice,
such bold strivings after the unattainable, so many hardly spent lives and
premature deaths, and feel puzzled to find a reply. To the problems
proposed the world-religions gave in turn every possible answer. Some
found life sweet, others bitter; some bowed before the inexorable rule of
destiny, others believed in a personal and benevolent government of the
universe; some looked forward to a life after death, others hoped for
annihilation. Their theories crystallized into dogmas, and as such became
the banners under which national hatreds once more sought outlet in
bloodshed. Their adherents sacrificed everything in the hope of reaching
certain and scientific truth, and, at the end of all, religion still appears the
whole world over to be in conflict with science, and the thousand years
during which Wisdom was counted more precious than riches are often
looked back upon as a time of human aberration and childishness. It is not
to be denied that thousands of noble spirits set out during this period for a
goal that they never reached; and those who are inclined to destructive
criticism may plausibly characterise their enterprise as vanity.
The path still 28. It is the task of literary research to pierce through
onward. this limited view, and to trace the real effect of
philosophical effort on the life of individuals and
nations. All over the civilized world it raised a race of heroes, struggling not
for power or splendour as in the epoch of barbarism, but for the good of
their fellow-men. It gave a new value to life, and trampled under foot the
fear of death. It united the nations, and spread the reign of law and justice.
Where its influence has weakened, the world has not changed for the better;

so that the very failures of the world-religions most attest their value. India
has relapsed from Buddhism, its own noblest work, to its earlier creeds, and
they still bar its path against social progress. Europe, no longer united by
the sentiment of a catholic religion, and increasingly indifferent to literary
sympathies, is falling back into the slough of frontier impediments and
racial hatreds. From all this there is no way out except in the old-fashioned
quest of truth and good will.
Estimates of 29. Both in ancient and in modern times the
Stoicism. importance of Stoicism has been very variously
estimated, according as the critic has set up a purely
literary standard, or has taken into account historical influence. To those
who look upon philosophy as it is embodied in books, and forms a subject
for mental contemplation and aesthetic enjoyment, the philosophies of Plato
and Aristotle have always seemed of far higher rank. As contributions to the
progress of humanity, in politics and law, in social order and in the
inventive adaptation of material surroundings, they can hardly claim to
approach any one of the systems discussed in this chapter. But it is with no
wish to depreciate the great masterpieces of Hellenic culture that we now
set against the criticisms of some of its ardent advocates the maturer
judgment of writers who have approached with greater sympathy the study
of the Hellenistic and Roman worlds. ‘In Plato and Aristotle,’ says Zeller,
‘Greek philosophy reached its greatest perfection[68].’ ‘Its bloom was short-
lived[69].’ ‘Greece was brought into contact with the Eastern nations,
whereby it became subject to a back-current of Oriental thought[70].’ ‘With
the decline of political independence the mental powers of the nation were
broken past remedy[71].’ ‘What could be expected in such an age, but that
philosophy would become practical, if indeed it were studied at all[72]?’ To
minds of another temper it does not seem so fatal that ‘philosophy should
become practical.’ ‘It should be insisted,’ says Prof. Mahaffy, ‘that the
greatest practical inheritance the Greeks left in philosophy was not the
splendour of Plato, or the vast erudition of Aristotle, but the practical
systems of Zeno and Epicurus, and the scepticism of Pyrrho. In our own
day every man is either a Stoic, an Epicurean, or a Sceptic[73].’ The
greatness of Stoicism in particular was eloquently recognised by a French
writer of the eighteenth century: ‘elle seule savait faire les citoyens, elle
seule faisait les grands hommes, elle seule faisait les grands empereurs[74]!’

With these tributes may be compared that paid by a writer who approaches
the subject from the standpoint of modern philosophy and theology.
‘[Stoicism] has perennial fascination; and there are not wanting signs that it
appeals with special attractiveness to cultured minds at the present day. It
has both speculative and practical value; its analysis of human nature and
its theory of knowledge, no less than its ethical teaching, giving insight into
the problems of the universe and the right mode of guiding life. As an
important stage in the march of philosophical thought, and as a luminous
chapter in the history of natural theology, it solicits our attention and will
repay our study[75].’
Interpretative 30. Judgments so contradictory reveal the fact that
Stoicism. ancient divergencies of philosophic sympathies have
their counterparts to-day; and perhaps in studying and
judging the systems of antiquity a little more is needed of the sympathy and
interpretative elasticity which every man unconsciously uses in maintaining
the political, philosophic and religious views to which he is attracted by
inheritance or personal conviction. Thus to understand Stoicism fully a man
must himself become for the time being a Stoic. As such he will no longer
bind himself by the letter of the school authorities. In many a phrase they
use he will recognise an obsolete habit of thought, an exaggerated
opposition, a weak compliance in the face of dominant opinions, or a
mistaken reliance upon what once seemed logical conclusions. At other
points he will see difficulties felt to which an answer can now easily be
supplied. At each step he will ask, not so much what the Stoics thought, but
what a Stoic must necessarily think. Whilst constantly referring to the
original authorities, he will allow much to be forgotten, and in other cases
he will draw out more meaning than the writers themselves set in their
words. If he can walk, boldly but not without caution, on this path, he will
assuredly find that Stoicism throws light on all the great questions to which
men still seek answers, and that to some at least it still holds out a
beckoning hand.

FOOTNOTES
[1] See below, § 441.
[2] Diog. L. Prooem. 1.

[3] Gomperz, Greek Thinkers, ii p. 161; and below, § 94.
[4] ‘principes Chaldaei, qui in patentibus campis colebant, stellarum motus et
vias et coetus intuentes, quid ex his efficeretur observaverunt’ Gellius, N. A. xiv
1, 8.
[5] Sir E. Walter Maunder, in the Nineteenth Century for September 1900.
[6] ‘quinque stellarum potestates Chaldaeorum observatio excepit’ Seneca, N.
Q. ii 32, 6.
[7] This is well described by Cicero, translating from a Stoic source: ‘cum
fato omnia fiant, si quis mortalis possit esse, qui colligationem causarum
omnium perspiciat animo, nihil eum profecto fallat. qui enim teneat causas
rerum futurarum, idem necesse est omnia teneat quae futura sint’ Div. i 56, 127.
It seems reasonable to suppose that this general conception of ‘fate’ or ‘destiny’
is deduced from the unchanging movements of the heavenly bodies.
[8] ‘videbis quinque sidera diversas agentia vias; ex horum levissimis motibus
fortunae populorum dependent’ Sen. Dial. vi 18, 3.
[9] ‘aiunt quadringenta septuaginta milia annorum in periclitandis
experiundisque pueris, quicunque essent nati, Babylonios posuisse’ Cic. Div. ii
46, 97. I assume that the original tradition named the smaller number suggested
above.
[10] ‘duo apud Chaldaeos studuisse se dicunt, Epigenes et Apollonius
Myndius’ Sen. N. Q. vii 4, 1; ‘Diogenes Stoicus [Chaldaeis] concedit, aliquid ut
praedicere possint’ Cic. Div. ii 43, 90. Seneca concludes against their authority,
observing (i) that a proper horoscope should include all the stars in the heaven at
the moment of birth, and (ii) that twins should always have the same fortune,
which is obviously untrue; see N. Q. ii 32, 6 to 8, Ben. vii 1, 5.
[11] ‘tu ne quaesieris (scire nefas), quem mihi, quem tibi | finem di dederint,
Leuconoe, nec Babylonios | temptaris numeros’ Hor. C. i 11, 1-3.
[12] See the interesting tale of Thrasyllus and Tiberius in Tac. Ann. vi 21, to
which the author affects to give some credit.
[13] e.g., ‘seu Libra seu me Scorpios adspicit | formidulosus, pars violentior |
natalis horae, seu tyrannus | Hesperiae Capricornus undae, | utrumque nostrum
incredibili modo | consentit astrum’ Hor. C. ii 17, 17-22.
[14] ‘Eudoxus, qui inter sapientiae sectas clarissimam utilissimamque [artem
magicam] intellegi voluit, Zoroastrem hunc sex millibus annorum ante Platonis
mortem fuisse prodidit: sic et Aristoteles’ Pliny, N. H. xxx 2, 1; cf. Diog. L.
Prooem. 2 and 8.
[15] Williams-Jackson, Zoroaster, p. 161.
[16] ib. p. 174.
[17] K. Geldner, Encycl. Brit. ed. x, article ‘Zoroaster.’
[18] Williams-Jackson, p. 7.
[19] ‘Magiam ... cuius scientiae saeculis priscis multa ex Chaldaeorum arcanis
Bactrianus addidit Zoroastres’ Amm. Marc. xxiii 6, 32.

[20] [Zoroastres] ‘primus dicitur mundi principia siderumque motus
diligentissime spectasse’ Justinus, Hist. Phil. i 1, 9 (Williams-Jackson, p. 237):
‘astris multum et frequenter intentus’ Clem. Rom. Recogn. iv 27.
[21] ‘tradunt Zoroastrem in desertis caseo vixisse’ Pliny, N. H. xi 97.
[22] ‘[Ahura Mazdā] created the paths of the sun and the stars; he made the
moon to wax and wane’ (Yasna 43, 3); ‘he made the light and the darkness’ (ib.
5); ‘he is the father of the good’ (ib. 46, 2).
[23] ‘Ζωροάστρης ὁ μάγος ... προσαπεφαίνετο, τὸν μὲν ἑοικέναι φωτὶ
μάλιστα τῶν αἰσθητῶν, τὸν δ’ ἔμπαλιν σκότῳ καὶ ἀγνοίᾳ’ Plut. Isid. et Osir. 46.
[24] ‘Thus saith Cyrus, king of Persia:—all the kingdoms of the earth hath the
Lord, the God of heaven, given me; and he hath charged me to build him an
house in Jerusalem’ Ezra i 2.
[25] See the interesting papyri records recently discovered in Elephantine, and
published by Dr Sachau of Berlin. A general account of them is given by Prof.
Driver in the London Guardian for Nov. 6, 1907.
[26] Cicero rightly appreciated the religious character of the Persian
invasions: ‘delubra humanis consecrata simulacris Persae nefaria putaverunt;
eamque unam ob causam Xerxes inflammari Atheniensium fana iussisse dicitur,
quod deos, quorum domus esset omnis hic mundus, inclusos parietibus contineri
nefas esse duceret’ Rep. iii 9, 14. So Themistocles as represented by Herodotus:
‘the gods and heroes grudged that one man should become king both of Asia and
of Europe, and he a man unholy and presumptuous, one who made no difference
between things sacred and things profane, burning and casting down the images
of the gods’ History viii 109 (Macaulay’s translation).
[27] See below, § 41.
[28] ‘Images and temples and altars they do not account it lawful to erect, nay,
they even charge with folly those who do these things; and this, as it seems to
me, because they do not account the gods to be in the likeness of men, as do the
Hellenes. But it is their wont to perform sacrifices to Zeus, going up to the most
lofty of the mountains, and the whole circle of the heavens they call Zeus: and
they sacrifice to the Sun and the Moon and the Earth, to Fire and to Water and to
the Winds; these are the only gods to whom they have sacrificed ever from the
first’ History i 131 (Macaulay’s translation).
[29] Cic. Sen. 22, 79 to 81, after Xen. Cyr. viii 7.
[30] In the hymns of Zarathustra we can only trace the beginnings of this
system, as in the following: ‘All-wise Lord, all-powerful one, and thou Piety,
and Righteousness, Good Mind and the Kingdom, listen ye to me and prosper
my every beginning’ Yasna 33, 11.
[31] Yasht xix 15, 16. The translation follows Geldner, Drei Yasht aus dem
Zendavesta, p. 15.
[32] Ancient Greek hymn, φῶς ἱλαρὸν ἁγίας δόξης, translated by J. Keble.
[33] J. H. Newman.
[34] ‘Zoroaster taught the Persians neither to burn their dead, nor otherwise to
defile fire.’ Xanthos (b.c. 465-425), as quoted by Nicolaus of Damascus (1st

century b.c.).
[35] See § 10, note 28; Strabo xv 3, 16.
[36] ‘Zarathustra said:—the earthly demon is water derived from earth; the
heavenly demon is fire mixed with air’ Origen, contra haereses, i col. 3025.
[37] ‘The Persians first worshipped fire as a god in heaven’ Clemens
Romanus, Hom. ix 4 f.
[38] ‘Zoroaster the Magian says:—God is the primal, the incorruptible, the
eternal, the unbegotten, the indivisible, the incomparable, the charioteer of all
good, he that cannot be bribed, the best of the good, the wisest of the wise; he is
also the father of good laws and justice, the self-taught, the natural, perfect, and
wise, the only discoverer of the sacred and natural’ Euseb. Praep. ev. i 10.
[39] ‘From the writings of Zoroaster it is inferred that he divided philosophy
into three parts, physics, economics, and politics’ Schol. on First Alcibiades, p.
122 a (Williams-Jackson, p. 231).
[40] ‘They educate their children, beginning at five years old and going on till
twenty, in three things only; in riding, in shooting, and in speaking the truth’
Herod. i 136.
[41] See above, § 3.
[42] Alexander had reached the river Hyphasis, the modern Bias.
[43] Plutarch’s Life of Alexander, ch. lxiv (translation by Aubrey Stewart and
George Long, London, 1892).
[44] Mahāvagga i 6, 19 to 22, after H. Oldenberg, Buddha, p. 139, and the
translation in S. B. E. xiii pp. 95, 96.
[45] Dhammapada i 5 and xvii 123 (S. B. E. x pp. 5, 58).
[46] Mahaffy, Empire of the Ptolemies, p. 164. These alternative
interpretations of the doctrine of Nirvana must not be accepted as
uncontroversial.
[47] Mahaffy, Empire of the Ptolemies, p. 163; V. A. Smith, Açoka, p. 174.
[48] See Gomperz, Greek Thinkers, ii pp. 155-162, and below, § 52.
[49] Epict. Disc. iii 24, 64 to 66 (Long’s translation).
[50] ib. iii 22, 45 to 50.
[51] ‘The system that stood to Pagan Rome more nearly than anything else in
the place of a religion’ Crossley, M. Aurelius, iv Pref. p. xii. ‘Its history
resembles that of a religion rather than a speculative system’ Rendall, M.
Aurelius, Pref. p. xv.
[52] See below, § 173.
[53] ‘Patricians, as we call them, only too often fail in natural affection’ M.
Aurel. To himself, i 12 (Rendall’s translation). See also below, §§ 442, 443.
[54] ‘Dying, [Stoicism] bequeathed no small part of its disciplines, its
dogmas, and its phraseology to the Christianity by which it was ingathered’
Rendall, M. Aurelius, Pref. p. xv. ‘The basis of Christian society is not Christian,
but Roman and Stoical’ Hatch, Hibbert Lectures, p. 170. ‘[The post-Aristotelian

period] supplied the scientific mould into which Christianity in the early years of
its growth was cast, and bearing the shape of which it has come down to us’ O. J.
Reichel in his Preface to the translation of Zeller’s Stoics, etc.
[55] See above, § 9.
[56] It is not admitted by the best authorities that the term ‘Pharisee’ is in any
way connected with the name of ‘Persian’ or its modern equivalent ‘Parsee.’ But
the resemblance in beliefs and habits is very striking, especially if we contrast
the Pharisees with their Sadducee opponents. ‘The Sadducees say that there is no
resurrection, neither angel, nor spirit; but the Pharisees confess both’ Acts xxiii
8.
[57] D. A. Bertholet, ‘The value of the history of religions,’ Homiletic Review,
Nov. 1908.
[58] See Fairweather, Background of the Gospels, ch. vii (on ‘the apocalyptic
movement and literature’).
[59] ib. p. 337.
[60] See above, § 12.
[61] Heinze, Lehre vom Logos, pp. 251, 252.
[62] ‘The Logos is related to God as Wisdom, and is the full expression of the
Divine mind. He is the sheckinah or glory of God, the first-born Son of God, the
second God’ Fairweather, Background of the Gospels, p. 358.
[63] Friedländer, Die religiösen Bewegungen innerhalb des Judaïsmus, 1905.
[64] ‘There were seven lamps of fire burning before the throne, which are the
seven Spirits of God’ Revelation iv 5.
[65] Of these Antipater of Tarsus is the best known, for whom see § 110;
others are Heraclides, Archedemus, Zeno of Tarsus, Nestor, Athenodorus, etc.,
for whom see Index of Proper Names.
[66] Winckler, Der Stoicismus, p. 2; Lightfoot, Philippians, pp. 270, 271.
[67] Lucan, Phars. i 452-462.
[68] Stoics, etc., p. 1.
[69] ib. p. 10.
[70] ib. pp. 13, 14.
[71] ib. p. 15.
[72] ib. p. 16.
[73] Greek Life and Thought, Introd., pp. xxxvii, xxxviii.
[74] Montesquieu, Esprit des lois, ii 24.
[75] W. L. Davidson, The Stoic Creed, p. v.

CHAPTER II.
HERACLITUS AND SOCRATES.

Greek thought. 31. We have seen already that the great problems of
which Stoicism propounds one solution were agitated
during the millennium which preceded the Christian era alike in India,
Persia and Asia Minor on the one hand, and in Greece, Italy and the Celtic
countries on the other. To the beginnings of this movement we are unable to
assign a date; but the current of thought appears on the whole to have
moved from East to West. But just at the same time the influence of Greek
art and literature spreads from West to East; and it is to the crossing and
interweaving of these two movements that we owe almost all the light
thrown on this part of the history of human thought. The early history of
Stoicism has reached us entirely through the Greek language, and is bound
up with the history of Greek literature and philosophy[1]. But long before
Stoicism came into existence other movements similar in kind had reached
Greece; and the whole of early Greek literature, and especially its poetry, is
rich in contributions to the discussion of the physical and ethical problems
to which Stoicism addressed itself. From the storehouse of this earlier
literature the Stoics drew many of their arguments and illustrations; the
speculations of Heraclitus and the life of Socrates were especially rich in
suggestions to them. The study of Greek literature and philosophy as a
whole is therefore indispensable for a full appreciation of Stoicism; and the
way has been made easier of late by excellent treatises, happily available in
the English language, dealing with the general development of philosophic
and religious thought in Greece[2]. Here it is only possible to refer quite
shortly to those writers and teachers to whom Stoicism is most directly
indebted.
Homer. 32. Although the Homeric poems include
representations of gods and men corresponding to the
epoch of national gods and to other still earlier stages of human thought,
nevertheless they are pervaded by at least the dawning light of the period of
the world-religions. Tales of the gods that are bloodthirsty or coarse are

kept in the background; and though heroes like Agamemnon, Achilles, and
Ajax move in an atmosphere of greed, bloodshed, and revenge, yet all of
them are restrained both in word and in act by a strong feeling of self-
respect, the αἰδώς or shamefastness which entirely differentiates them from
the heroes of folk-lore; in particular, the typical vices of gluttony,
drunkenness, and sexual unrestraint are amongst the things of which it is a
shame to speak without reserve. The gods are many, and in human shape;
yet they are somewhat fairer than men, and something of the heavenly
brilliance in which the Persian archangels are wrapped seems to encircle
also the heights where the gods dwell on mount Olympus[3]. Gradually too
there comes to light amidst the picture of the many gods something
resembling a supreme power, sometimes impersonally conceived as Fate
(αἶσα, μοῖρα), sometimes more personally as the Fate of Zeus, most
commonly of all as Zeus himself, elevated in rank above all other gods[4].
Thus Zeus is not only king, but also father of gods and men[5]; he is the
dispenser of happiness to men, ‘to the good and the evil, to each one as he
will[6],’ and the distributor of gracious gifts[7], unbounded in power[8] and in
knowledge[9]. The gods again, in spite of the many tales of violence
attached to their names, exercise a moral governance over the world. ‘They
love not froward deeds, but they reverence justice and the righteous acts of
men[10]’; ‘in the likeness of strangers from far countries, they put on all
manner of shapes, and wander through the cities, beholding the violence
and the righteousness of men[11].’
Whilst therefore the philosophers of later times could rightly object to
Homer that he told of the gods tales neither true nor worthy of their nature,
there was on the other hand much in the Iliad and Odyssey, and particularly
in the latter, which was in harmony with philosophical conceptions. It was
not without reason that the Stoics themselves made of Ulysses, who in
Homer plays but little part in fighting, an example of the man of wisdom
and patience, who knows men and cities, and who through self-restraint and
singleness of purpose at last wins his way to the goal[12]. From this starting-
point the whole of the Odyssey is converted into a ‘Pilgrim’s Progress’; the
enchantress Circe represents the temptations of gluttony, which turns men
into swine[13]; the chant of the Sirens is an allegory of the enticements of
sensual pleasure.

Hesiod. 33. In Hesiod (8th century b.c.) we find the first
attempt to construct a history of the universe; his
Theogony is the forerunner of the Cosmology which later on is a recognised
part of philosophy. Here in the company of the personal gods we find not
only the personified lights of heaven, Sun and Moon, but also such figures
as those of Earth and Ocean, Night and Day, Heaven and Hell, Fate, Sleep,
and Death, all bearing witness to the emergence of the spirit of speculation.
In Hesiod again we first find the description of the ‘watchmen of Jove,’ who
are no longer the gods themselves as in Homer, but an intermediate class of
beings, corresponding to the Persian angels and the δαίμονες of later Greek.

‘Thrice ten thousand are the servants of Zeus, immortal,
watchmen over mortal men; these watch deeds of justice and
of wickedness, walking all ways up and down the earth,
clothed in the mist[14].’

But it is in his ethical standards that Hesiod is more directly a forerunner
of the Stoic school: for neither the warlike valour nor the graceful self-
control of the hero appeals to him, but the stern sense of justice and the
downright hard work of the plain man.

‘Full across the way of Virtue the immortal gods have set
the sweat of the brow; long and steep is the path that reaches
to her, and rough at the beginning; but when you reach the
highest point, hard though it is, in the end it becomes
easy[15].’

The Orphic poems. 34. Between Epic and Attic literature stands the
poetry of the ‘Orphic’ movement, belonging to the sixth
century b.c., and exercising a wide influence over various schools of
philosophy in the succeeding centuries. For an account of this movement
the reader must look elsewhere[16]; here we can only notice that it continued
the cosmological speculations of Hesiod’s Theogony, and in particular
developed a strain of pantheism which is echoed in the Stoic poets.
According to an Orphic poet

‘Zeus is the first and the last, the head and the foot, the
male and the female, Earth and Heaven, Night and Day; he
is the one force, the one great deity, the creator, the alluring
power of love; for all these things are immanent in the
person of Zeus[17].’

Here amidst the fusion of poetry and theology we first see the budding
principle of philosophic monism, the reaching after a unity which will
comprehend all things. To the same school is attributed the doctrine that
‘the human soul is originally and essentially divine[18].’
The Hylozoists. 35. To the sixth century b.c. belong also the earliest
Greek philosophers who are known to us by name. In all
of these the early polytheism is either abandoned or becomes so dim in its
outlines that the origin and governing force of the universe is sought in
quite other directions. The philosophers of Ionia busied themselves with the
problem of the elements. Thales of Miletus was a man of many
attainments; he had travelled both in Egypt and in Babylon, and was an
active political reformer. To him water was the primary substance, from
which all others proceeded and to which they returned[19]. Anaximander of
the same town was the first who undertook to give the Greeks a map of the
whole known world. To him it seemed that the primary matter could not be
the same as any visible substance, but must be a protoplasm of undefined
character (ἄπειρον), capable of assuming in turn all shapes[20]. Anaximenes
(once more of Miletus) assumed air as the first principle, and derived the
other elements from it by processes of condensation (πύκνωσις) and
rarefaction[21]. But on one point all the Ionian philosophers were agreed: the
primary substance was the cause of its own motion; they were ‘hylozoists,’
since they hold that matter (ὕλη) is a living thing (ζῷον). They are from the
standpoint of physics ‘monists,’ as opposed to those who hold matter and
life, or matter and force, to be two things eternally distinct, and are
therefore ‘dualists’ in their theory[22].
Pythagoras. 36. To the same sixth century belong two other
notable philosophers. Pythagoras, born in Samos about
575 b.c., and like Thales, one who had travelled widely, left his native land
rather than submit to the rule of a tyrant, and founded in Croton in Lower

Italy a community half religious and half political, which in its original
form was not long-lived. But a widespread tradition remained as to his
doctrines, in which the theory of Numbers held a leading position.
Pythagoras appears to have been a good mathematician and astronomer, and
followers of his school were at an early date led to the doctrines of the
rotation of the earth on its axis and the central position of the sun in the
planetary system[23]. His name is also connected with the theory of the
transmigration of souls, which we may suppose him to have derived
ultimately from some Indian source; and to the same country we must look
as having suggested to him and his followers the practice of abstaining from
animal food[24].
Xenophanes. 37. If we looked merely to the theories of the
philosophers, it might seem as if the old mythologies
and theogonies were already dead. But in fact the battle was yet to come.
Xenophanes of Colophon (born circ. 580 b.c.) witnessed in his youth the
fall of Ionia before the conquering progress of Cyrus king of Persia. Rather
than submit to the power of the invader he adopted the life of a wandering
minstrel, and finally settled in Elea, in Lower Italy, where he became the
founder of the Eleatic school. But in his religious convictions he was
whole-heartedly on the Persian side. ‘There is one God, greatest amongst
gods[25] and men, not like mortal men in bodily shape or in mind[26].’ Thus
the worship of many gods and that of images of the deity are alike
condemned; and it is probable that in this false worship he found the cause
of his country’s fall. With the lack of historic sense which is characteristic
of the zealous reformer, he condemned Homer and Hesiod as teachers of
immorality, since they ‘ascribed to the gods theft, adultery, and deceit, and
all acts that are counted shame and blame amongst men[27].’ With keen
criticism he pointed out that myths as to the birth of the gods dishonoured
them just as much as if they related their deaths; for on either supposition
there is a time when the gods do not exist[28]. The conception of the deity
formed by Xenophanes seems to approach Pantheism or Nature-worship,
and so far to foreshadow the Stoic deity; but the fragments that survive of
his works are insufficient to make this point clear[29]. The successors of
Xenophanes did not inherit his religious zeal, but they emphasized all the
more the philosophic principle of an ultimate Unity in all things.

Heraclitus. 38. With the opening of the fifth century b.c. we reach
Heraclitus of Ephesus, a philosopher of the highest
importance to us, since the Stoics afterwards accepted his teaching as the
foundation of their own system of physics. The varied speculations of the
sixth century were all examined by Heraclitus, and all found wanting by
him; his own solutions of the problems of the world are set forth in a
prophetic strain, impressive by its dignity, obscure in its form, and lending
itself to much variety of interpretation. For the opinions of the crowd, who
are misled by their senses, he had no respect[30]; but even learning does not
ensure intelligence[31], unless men are willing to be guided by the ‘Word,’
the universal reason[32]. The senses shew us in the universe a perpetual
flowing: fire changes to water (sky to cloud), water to earth (in rainfall),
which is the downward path; earth changes to water (rising mist), and water
to fire, which is the upward path[33]. Behind these changes the Word points
to that which is one and unchanging[34]. Anaximander did well when he
pointed to the unlimited as the primary stuff, but it is better to describe it as
an ‘ever-living fire[35].’ Out of this fire all things come, and into it they shall
all be resolved[36]. Of this ever-living fire a spark is buried in each man’s
body; whilst the body lives, this spark, the soul, may be said to be dead[37];
but when the body dies it escapes from its prison, and enters again on its
proper life. The ‘Word’ is from everlasting[38]; through the Word all things
happen[39]; it is the universal Law which holds good equally in the physical
world and in the soul of man. For man’s soul there is a moral law, which
can be reached only by studying the plan of the world in which we live[40].
But of this law men are continually forgetful; they live as in a dream,
unconscious of it; it calls to them once and again, but they do not hear it[41].
Most of all it is needed in the government of the state; for ‘he who speaks
with understanding must take his foothold on what is common to all; for all
human laws are nourished by the one divine law[42].’
The Word. 39. The general import of the physical teaching of
Heraclitus, and the indebtedness of the Stoics to it, have
long been recognised: the bearing of this teaching upon religion, ethics and
politics is a more disputable matter. Does Heraclitus by the ‘Logos’ which
he so often names mean merely his own reasoning and message? is he
speaking of the common reason of mankind? or does the term suggest to

him a metaphysical abstraction, a divine power through which the world is
created and governed? For the fuller meaning we have analogies in the
beliefs of Persism before Heraclitus, and of Stoics, Judaists, and Christians
afterwards. The latest commentator, adopting this explanation, sums it up in
three propositions: first, the ‘Logos’ is eternal, being both pre-existent and
everlasting, like the world-god of Xenophanes; secondly, all things both in
the material and in the spiritual world happen through the ‘Logos’; it is a
cosmic principle, ‘common’ or ‘universal’; and in the third place, it is the
duty of man to obey this ‘Logos,’ and so to place himself in harmony with
the rest of nature. And accordingly, in agreement with many recent writers,
he adopts the translation ‘the Word’ as on the whole the most adequate[43].
Even the Romans found it impossible to translate λόγος by any single word,
and they therefore adopted the phrase ratio et oratio (reason and speech); in
modern language it seems clearly to include also the broad notion of
‘Universal Law’ or the ‘Laws of Nature.’ If we can rightly attribute to
Heraclitus all that is thus included in the interpretation of this one word, he
certainly stands out as a great creative power in Greek philosophy,
harmonizing by bold generalizations such diverse provinces as those of
physics, religion, and ethics; ‘he was the first [in Greece, we must
understand] to build bridges, which have never since been destroyed,
between the natural and the spiritual life[44].’ It is to the Stoics almost alone
that we owe it that teaching so suggestive and so practical was converted
into a powerful social and intellectual force.
Zarathustra and 40. The prominence given to fire in the system of
Heraclitus. Heraclitus has very naturally suggested that his doctrine
is borrowed from that of Zarathustra[45]. The historical
circumstances are not unfavourable to this suggestion. Ionia was conquered
in turn by Cyrus and Darius, and definitely annexed by Persia about 496
b.c., that is, at the very time at which Heraclitus taught. Moreover the
Persian invasion was akin to a religious crusade, and had for a principal aim
the stamping out of the idle and superstitious habit of worshipping images,
by which (according to the Persians) the true God was dishonoured. The
elevated character of the Persian religion could hardly fail to attract learned
Greeks, already dissatisfied with the crude mythology of their own people.
Further, the resemblance between the teaching of Zarathustra and that of
Heraclitus is not restricted to the language used of the divine fire; the

doctrines of an all-creating, all-pervading Wisdom, the λόγος or Word, and
of the distinction between the immortal soul and the corruptible body, are
common to both. But the differences between the two systems are almost
equally striking. Heraclitus is a monist; according to him all existences are
ultimately one. Zarathustra taught a principle of Evil, everywhere opposed
to the Good Spirit, and almost equally powerful; his system is dualist[45a].
Zarathustra is not free from nationalism, Heraclitus is cosmopolitan. In the
Ephesian system we find no trace of the belief in Judgment after death, in
Heaven, or in Hell. We may in fact well believe that Heraclitus was
acquainted with Zoroastrianism and influenced by it, but we have not the
means to determine what the extent of that influence was. It is related of
him that he received (but declined) an invitation to the court of Darius; and
that his dead body was given up to be torn to pieces by dogs in the Persian
fashion[45b].
The tragedians. 41. The development of philosophic thought at Athens
was, as we have noticed, much complicated by the
political relations of Greece to Persia. Although the Persian empire had
absorbed Asia Minor, it was decisively repulsed in its attacks on Greece
proper. Athens was the centre of the resistance to it, and the chief glory of
the victories of Marathon (490 b.c.) and Salamis (480 b.c.) fell to Athenian
statesmen and warriors. By these successes the Hellenes not only
maintained their political independence, but saved the images of their gods
from imminent destruction. A revival of polytheistic zeal took place, as
might have been expected. The wealth and skill of Greece were
ungrudgingly expended in the achievement of masterpieces of the sculptor’s
art, and their housing in magnificent temples. But even so religious
doctrines strikingly similar to those of the Persians gained ground. The
same Aeschylus who (in his Persae) celebrates the defeat of the national
enemy, a few years later (in his Agamemnon) questions whether the
Supreme Ruler be really pleased with the Greek title of Zeus, and the Greek
method of worshipping him[46]. His more conservative successor Sophocles
was contented, in the spirit of the Homeric bards, to eliminate from the old
myths all that seemed unworthy of the divine nature. Euripides adopts a
bolder tone. Reproducing the old mythology with exact fidelity, he ‘assails
the resulting picture of the gods with scathing censure and flat
contradiction[47].’ With equal vigour he attacks the privileges of noble birth,

and defends the rights of the slave; he has a keen sympathy for all the
misfortunes that dog man’s life; but his ethical teaching in no way derives
its sanction from any theology. The Hellenes have lost confidence in their
inherited outlook on the world.
The Sophists. 42. The same problems which the poets discussed in
the city theatre were during the fifth century b.c. the
themes of a class of men now becoming so numerous as to form the nucleus
of a new profession. These were the ‘sophists,’ who combined the functions
now performed partly by the university professor, partly by the public
journalist[48]. Dependent for their livelihood upon the fees of such pupils as
they could attract, and therefore sensitive enough to the applause of the
moment, they were distinguished from the philosophers by a closer touch
with the public opinion of the day, and a keener desire for immediate
results. Their contribution to philosophic progress was considerable.
Cultivating with particular care the art of words, they created a medium by
which philosophic thought could reach the crowd of men of average
education; eager advocates of virtue and political progress, they gave new
hopes to a people which, in spite of its material successes, was beginning to
despair because of the decay of its old moral and civic principles. In
Prodicus of Ceos we find a forerunner of the popular Stoic teachers of the
period of the principate[49]:

‘A profound emotion shook the ranks of his audience
when they heard his deep voice, that came with so strange a
sound from the frail body that contained it. Now he would
describe the hardships of human existence; now he would
recount all the ages of man, beginning with the new-born
child, who greets his new home with wailing, and tracing his
course to the second childhood and the gray hairs of old age.
Again he would rail at death as a stony-hearted creditor,
wringing his pledges one by one from his tardy debtor, first
his hearing, then his sight, next the free movement of his
limbs. At another time, anticipating Epicurus, he sought to
arm his disciples against the horrors of death by explaining
that death concerned neither the living nor the dead. As long

as we live, death does not exist; as soon as we die, we
ourselves exist no longer[50].’

To Prodicus we owe the well-known tale of Hercules at the parting of the
ways, when Virtue on the one hand, and Pleasure on the other, each invite
him to join company with her[51]. This tale we shall find to be a favourite
with the Roman philosophers. The same Prodicus introduced a doctrine
afterwards taken up by the Cynics and the Stoics in succession, that of the
‘indifference’ of external advantages as distinct from the use to which they
are applied. He also propounded theories as to the origin of the gods of
mythology, explaining some of them as personifications of the powers of
nature, others as deified benefactors of the human race[52]; theories which
later on were adopted with zeal by the Stoic Persaeus[53]. To another
sophist, Hippias of Elis, we owe the doctrine of the ‘self-sufficiency’ of
virtue, again adopted both by Cynics and Stoics[54]. Antiphon was not only
the writer of an ‘Art of Consolation,’ but also of a treatise of extraordinary
eloquence on political concord and the importance of education. ‘If a noble
disposition be planted in a young mind, it will engender a flower that will
endure to the end, and that no rain will destroy, nor will it be withered by
drought[55].’
The Materialists. 43. Amongst the sophists of Athens was counted
Anaxagoras, born at Clazomenae about 500 b.c., and a
diligent student of the Ionic philosophers. But in his explanation of nature
he broke away from ‘hylozoism’ and introduced a dualism of mind and
matter. ‘From eternity all things were together, but Mind stirred and ordered
them[56].’ More famous was his contemporary Empedocles of Agrigentum,
whose name is still held in honour by the citizens of that town. In him we
first find the list of elements reaching to four, earth, air, fire, and water; and
the doctrine that visible objects consist of combinations of the elements in
varying proportions, first brought together by Love, then separated by
Hatred. Just in so far as Empedocles abandoned the quest after a single
origin for all things, his conceptions became fruitful as the basis of the more
limited study now known as Chemistry. His work was carried further by
Leucippus and Democritus, both of Abdera, who for the four elements
substituted invisible atoms, of countless variety, moving by reason of their
own weight in an empty space. This simple and powerful analysis is

capable of dealing effectively with many natural phenomena, and with
comparatively slight alterations is still held to be valid in chemical analysis,
and exercises a wide influence over the neighbouring sciences of physics
and botany. When however (as has frequently been the case both in ancient
and modern times) the attempt is made to build upon it a general
philosophical system, its failure to explain the cohesion of matter in masses,
the growth of plants and animals, and the phenomena of mind, become
painfully apparent. Such attempts roughly correspond to the attitude of
mind now called materialism, because in them the atoms, endowed with the
material properties of solidity, shape, and weight alone, are conceived to be
the only true existences, all others being secondary and derivative. This
materialism (with some significant qualifications) was a century later the
central doctrine of Epicurus, and is of importance to us by reason of its
sharp contrast with the Stoic system of physics.
Socrates. 44. The value of these scientific speculations was not
for the time being fully recognised at Athens. It was in
the atmosphere of sophistic discussion, not free from intellectual mists, but
bracing to the exercise of civic and even of martial virtue that Socrates of
Athens (circ. 469-399 b.c.) grew to maturity. He set to his fellow-citizens an
example of the vigorous performance of duty. As a soldier he was brave
almost to rashness, and took an active part in three campaigns. As a
magistrate he discharged his duty unflinchingly. After the battle of
Arginusae the ten Athenian generals were said to have neglected the duty of
succouring certain disabled ships and the people loudly demanded that all
should be condemned to death by a single vote. Socrates was one of the
presiding senators, and he absolutely refused to concur in any such illegal
procedure[56a]. Again, when Athens was under the rule of the Thirty,
Socrates firmly refused to obey their unjust orders[57]. But when himself
condemned to death, he refused to seize an opportunity for flight which was
given him; for this, he said, would be to disobey the laws of his country[58].
His private life was marked by a firm self-control. Athens was now
wealthy, and its leading citizens frequently gathered together for festive
purposes. Socrates joined them, but showed the greatest moderation in
eating and drinking: such a course, he said, was the better for health and
also produced more real pleasure. Over the grosser temptations of the
senses he had won a complete victory[59]. His temper was calm and even;

he was not put out by the violences of his wife, nor did he allow himself to
break out into rage with his slaves. His personal habits, though simple, were
careful: he did not approve any neglect either of bodily cleanliness or of
neatness in dress.
Thus Socrates gave an example of a life of activity and self-control
(ἰσχὺς καὶ κράτος); and by his character, even more than by his speculation,
exercised an influence which extended widely over many centuries.
His teaching. 45. The teaching of Socrates is not easily reduced to
the set formulae of a philosophic school. But clearly it
was focussed upon the life of men in the city and in the home, and was no
longer chiefly concerned with the phenomena of the sky or the history of
the creation of the universe. So Cicero well says of him that ‘Socrates
called philosophy down from the heavens to earth, and introduced it into the
houses and cities of men, compelling men to enquire concerning life and
morals and things good and evil[60]’; and Seneca that he ‘recalled the whole
of philosophy to moral questions, and said that the supreme wisdom was to
distinguish between good and evil[61].’ He had no higher object than to send
out young men, of whose good disposition he was assured, to take an active
part in the affairs of the community, and to this course he urged them
individually and insistently[62]. But it must not be supposed that he put on
one side problems concerned with the acquirement of truth, or with the
constitution and government of the universe. His views on these points
carried perhaps all the more weight because they were stated by him not as
personal opinions, but as points upon which he desired to share the
convictions of his neighbours, if only they could assure him that reason was
on their side.
Reason the guide. 46. Socrates more than any other man possessed the
art of persuasive reasoning, thereby making his
companions wiser and better men. First he asked that terms should be
carefully defined, so that each man should know what the nature is of each
thing that exists[63], and should examine himself and know well of what he
speaks. Next he introduced the practice of induction (ἐπακτικοὶ λόγοι), by
which men make larger the outlook of their minds, understand one thing by
comparison with another, and arrange the matter of their thought by
classes[64]. By induction we arrive at general truths: not however by any

mechanical or mathematical process, but (at least in the higher matters) by
the use of Divination, that is, by a kind of divine enlightenment[65]. He who
has accustomed himself to think with deliberation, to look on the little in its
relation to the great, and to attune himself to the divine will, goes out into
the world strengthened in self-restraint, in argumentative power, and in
active goodwill to his fellow-men.
Most directly this method appeals to the future statesman. Of those who
seek the society of Socrates many intend to become generals or magistrates.
Let them consider well what these words mean. Is not a pilot one who
knows how to steer a ship? a cook one who knows how to prepare food?
must we not then say that a statesman is one who knows how to guide the
state? And how can he know this but by study and training? Must we not
then say generally that all arts depend on knowledge, and knowledge on
study? Do we not reach the general truths that ‘virtue is knowledge’ and
that ‘virtue can be taught’? We may hesitate as to how to apply these
principles to our individual actions, and Socrates will accuse none on this
point; but for himself he has a divine monitor which never fails to warn him
when his mind is turned towards a course which the gods disapprove.
His dualism in 47. In the speculations of the Ionian philosophers
physics. Socrates could find no satisfaction. But one day he
discovered with pleasure the words of Anaxagoras: ‘it is
mind that orders the world and is cause of all things[66].’ Thus he was
attracted to a dualistic view of the universe, in which matter and mind are in
fundamental contrast. In the beginning there existed a chaos of unordered
dead meaningless matter, and also mind, the principle of life, meaning, and
order. Mind touched matter, and the universe sprang into being. Mind
controls matter, and thus the universe continues to exist. The proof is found
in the providential adaptation of the world for the life and comfort of
mankind: for it is only consistent to suppose that things that exist for use are
the work of mind[67]. He that made man gave him eyes to see with, ears to
hear with, and a mouth conveniently placed near to the organs of sight and
smell; he implanted in him a love of his offspring, and in the offspring a
love of its parents; and lastly endowed him with a soul capable of
understanding and worshipping his maker. For the divine power Socrates
uses quite indifferently the words ‘god’ and ‘gods’: but his belief is
essentially monotheistic. In the gods of the city of Athens he has ceased to

believe, although he still makes sacrifices upon their altars in good-
humoured conformity with the law, and even adopts the popular term
‘divination[68],’ though in a sense very different to that in which the official
priesthood used it.
In the analysis of human nature Socrates adopts a similar dualism. Man
consists of body and soul: the soul is lord and king over the body, and
indeed may rightly be called divine, if anything that has touch with
humanity is such[69].
His pietism. 48. The practical teaching of Socrates was entirely
dominated by his religious principles. The gods, he held,
know all things, our words, our deeds, and the secrets of our hearts: they are
everywhere present and give counsel to men concerning the whole of
life[70]. The first duty of man is therefore to enter into communion with the
gods by prayer, asking them to give us the good and deliver us from the
evil, but not qualifying the prayer by any instruction to the gods as to what
is good or evil; for this the gods themselves know best[71]. In these words
then we may pray: ‘Zeus our king, give us what is good for us whether we
ask for it or not; what is evil, even though we ask for it in prayer, keep far
from us[72].’
In this spirit of what we should to-day call ‘pietism’ we must interpret his
principle that ‘virtue is knowledge[73].’ This not only asserts that no one can
rightly practise any art unless he has studied and understands it, but also
that no one can rightly understand an art without practising it. We say that
there are men who know what is good and right, but do not perform it; but
this is not so; for such men in truth think that some other course is good for
them. Only the wise and pious man has a right understanding; others cannot
do good even if they try[74]; and when they do evil, even that they do
without willing it[75].
In its application to politics the teaching of Socrates came into collision
with the democratic sentiments prevalent at Athens. To say the least,
Socrates had no prejudice against the rule of kings. He distinguished
sharply between kingship and tyranny, saying that the rule of one man with
the assent of his subjects and in accordance with the laws was kingship, but
without such assent and according to the man’s arbitrary will was tyranny.

But under whatever constitutional form government was carried on,
Socrates asserted that those who knew the business of government were
alone the true rulers, and that the will of the crowd, if conflicting with that
of the wise, was both foolish and impious[76].
Why Socrates was 49. So teaching and influencing men Socrates lived in
condemned. Athens till his seventieth year was past, and then died by
the hands of the public executioner. This fate he might
so easily have avoided that it seemed almost to be self-chosen. His disciple
Xenophon expresses amazement that the jurors should have condemned a
man so modest and so wise, and so practical a benefactor of the Athenian
people[77]. Modern historians, with a wider knowledge of human nature,
wonder rather that Socrates was allowed to live so long[78]. The accusers
complained that Socrates offended by disbelieving in the gods of the city,
introducing new deities, and corrupting the youth of Athens. From the point
of view of conservatively-minded Athenians, the charges were amply
justified. Clearly Socrates disbelieved, not merely in the official gods of the
city, but also in the deities it worshipped most earnestly, democracy and
empire. Not only did he introduce new deities, but it might fairly be argued
that he was introducing the most essential parts of the religion of the
national enemy, Persia. Daily inculcating these heretical doctrines upon
young men of the highest families in Athens, he might well be the cause
that the Athenian state was less unquestioningly served than before. That
the heresies of Socrates were soundly founded on wide observation and
general truths could not be considered to make them less dangerous. Athens
had already passed the time when its political power could be of service to
its neighbours; it had not reached that when it could be content with
intellectual influence; Socrates, just because he was in harmony with the
future of Athens, was a discordant element in its present.
The companions of 50. It is with difficulty, and not without the risk of
Socrates. error, that we trace even in outline the positive teaching
of Socrates. The severe self-repression with which he
controlled his senses was exercised by him no less over his intelligence. In
his expositions it took the shape of irony (εἰρωνεία), that is, the continual
withholding of his personal convictions, and obstetrics (μαιευτική), the
readiness to assist others in bringing their speculations to the birth. Thus he
was a great educator rather than a great teacher. For whilst he held that

virtue alone was worthy of investigation, and that virtue was essentially
wisdom, he professed to be entirely at a loss where to find this wisdom for
himself; he left it to his pupils to go out and discover the precious cup. Thus
whilst men of all classes and with every variety of mental bias listened to
his teaching, not one was content with his negative attitude. Of the various
suggestions which Socrates threw out, without committing himself to any
one, his pupils took up each in turn and endeavoured to construct out of it a
system[79]. These systems were in the sharpest possible contrast one with
another, but they have certain points in common. All the teachers retained a
strong personal affection and loyalty towards their common master; each
was convinced that he alone possessed the secret of his real convictions. All
of them held aloof from the physical speculations of which the ripe fruit
was already being gathered in by the Atomists. The portal of knowledge
was to all of them the right use of the reasoning power; the shrine itself was
the discipline of virtue, the attainment of happiness, the perfect ordering of
social life. Such were the Socratic schools, in which philosophy was now
somewhat sharply divided into the two branches of dialectics and ethics.
Another century had yet to elapse before the rejected discipline of physics
again established its importance.
The Cynics. 51. Of the Socratic schools three contributed directly
to the Stoic system. Of these the Cynic school, founded
by Antisthenes of Athens (circ. 440-365 b.c.) and developed by Diogenes
of Sinope, is its immediate precursor. The Cynic masters inherited most
completely the moral earnestness[80] and the direct pietistic teaching of
Socrates; and for this reason Antisthenes appears to have been the master’s
favourite pupil. The lives both of these men and of their successors were
marked by simplicity and self-abnegation, and they devoted themselves
with true missionary zeal to the reformation of moral outcasts. The
caricature of the figure of Diogenes which was promulgated by his
opponents and still lives in literary tradition needs constantly to be
corrected by the picture which Epictetus gives of him, and which (though
not without an element of idealization and hero-worship) shews us the man
as he appeared to his own disciples.
The breach with the state-religion which was latent in Socrates was
displayed without disguise by the Cynics. Antisthenes, following in the
track of the ardent Xenophanes, declared that the popular gods were many,

but the god of nature was one[81]; he denounced the use of images[82]; and
he and his followers naturally acquired the reproach of atheism[83]. Equally
offensive to the Athenians was their cosmopolitanism[84], which treated the
pride of Hellenic birth as vain, and poured contempt on the glorious
victories of Marathon and Salamis. Nor did the Cynics consider the
civilization of their times as merely indifferent; they treated it as the source
of all social evils, and looked for a remedy in the return to a ‘natural’ life, to
the supposed simplicity and virtue of the savage unspoilt by education.
Thus they formulated a doctrine which especially appealed to those who felt
themselves simple and oppressed, and which has been well described as
‘the philosophy of the proletariate of the Greek world[85].’
Cynic intuitionism. 52. The destructive criticism of the Cynics did not
stop with its attack upon Greek institutions; it assailed
the citadel of reason itself. Socrates had renounced physics; the Cynics
considered that dialectic was equally unnecessary[86]. For the doctrine of
general concepts and the exercise of classification they saw no use; they
were strict Nominalists; horses they could see, but not ‘horsiness.’ In their
ethics they held to the chief doctrines of Socrates, that ‘virtue is
knowledge,’ ‘virtue can be taught’ and ‘no one willingly sins’; and they laid
special stress on the ‘sufficiency’ (αὐτάρκεια) of virtue, which to produce
happiness needs (according to them) nothing in addition to itself except a
Socratic strength of character (Σωκρατικὴ ἰσχύς)[87]. But in reality they
identified virtue with this will-power, and entirely dispensed with
knowledge; virtue was to them a matter of instinct, not of scientific
investigation. They appear therefore as the real founders of that ethical
school which bases knowledge of the good on intuition, and which is at the
present time, under ever-varying titles, the most influential of all. In
practice, the virtue which specially appealed to the Cynics was that of
‘liberty,’ the claim of each man at every moment to do and say that which
seems to him right, without regard to the will of sovereigns, the conventions
of society, or the feelings of his neighbour; the claim made at all times by
the governed against their rulers, whether these are just or unjust, reckless
or farseeing.
Limits of Cynism. 53. Cynism is in morals what Atomism is in physics; a
doctrine which exercises a widespread influence because
of its extreme simplicity, which is extraordinarily effective within the range

of ideas to which it is appropriate, and fatally mischievous outside that
range. Nothing is more alien from Cynism than what we now call cynicism;
the Cynics were virtuous, warm-hearted, good-humoured, and pious. In
their willing self-abnegation they equalled or surpassed the example set by
Buddhist monks, but they were probably much inferior to them in the
appreciation of natural beauty and the simple pleasures of life. As compared
with their master Socrates, they lacked his genial presence, literary taste,
and kindly tolerance; and they were intensely antipathetic to men of the
type of Plato and Aristotle, whose whole life was bound up with pride in
their country, their birth, and their literary studies[88].
Xenophon. 54. The Cynics themselves seem to have made no
effective use of literature to disseminate their views; but
in the works of Xenophon of Athens (440-circ. 350 b.c.) we have a picture
of Socrates drawn almost exactly from the Cynic standpoint. Xenophon was
a close personal friend of Antisthenes, and thoroughly shared his dislike for
intellectual subtleties. He was possessed of a taste for military adventure,
and his interpretation of Socratic teaching entirely relieved him of any
scruples which patriotism might have imposed upon him in this direction,
leaving him free at one time to support the Persian prince Cyrus, and at
another to join with the Spartan king Agesilaus against his own
countrymen. From adventure he advanced to romance-writing, and his
sketches of the expedition of the Ten Thousand Greeks (in which he took
part in person) and of the life of Cyrus the Great have an interest which in
no way depends upon their accuracy. The account which he gives of
Socrates in his Memorabilia (ἀπομνημονεύματα) is not always to be
depended upon; it is at the best a revelation of one side only of the historic
philosopher; but it is to a large extent confirmed by what we learn from
other sources, and is of special interest to us because of the great influence
it exercised over Latin literature.
The Cyrenaics. 55. In the opposite direction Aristippus of Cyrene
shared the sympathetic tone of Socrates, but could not
adopt his moral earnestness or his zeal for the good of others. He refused
altogether the earnest appeal of Socrates that he should take part in politics.
‘It seems to me,’ he says, ‘to show much folly that a man who has quite
enough to do to find the necessities of life for himself, should not be
satisfied with this, but should take upon himself to provide his fellow-

citizens with all that they want, and to answer for his action in the courts if
he is not successful.’ Aristippus revolted altogether from the ascetic form in
which the Cynics represented his master’s teaching, and held that the wise
man, by self-restraint and liberal training, attained to the truest pleasure,
and that such pleasure was the end of life. The Cyrenaics (as his followers
were called) were the precursors in ethics of the school of Epicurus; and the
bitter opposition which was later on to rage between Stoics and Epicureans
was anticipated by the conflict between the Cynics and the Cyrenaics.
The Megarians. 56. The school of Euclides of Megara swerved
suddenly from these ethical interests and devoted itself
mainly to the problems of dialectic. From the Socratic practice of
classification it arrived at the doctrine of the One being, which alone it held
to be truly existent, and which it identified with the One God proclaimed by
Xenophanes and his followers of the Eleatic school. To the Megaric school
we are therefore chiefly indebted for the assertion of the philosophical
principle of monism; the same school drew the necessary logical
consequence, that evil is not in any real sense existent. From the Eleatics
the Megarians further derived an interest in logical speculation of all kinds,
and they were greatly occupied with the solution of fallacies: amongst the
followers of this school we first meet with the puzzles of ‘the heap’
(Sorites), ‘the liar’ (Pseudomenos), and others upon which in later times
Chrysippus and other Stoics sharpened their wits[89]. Diodorus the
Megarian set out certain propositions with regard to the relation of the
possible and the necessary which are of critical importance in connexion
with the problem of free-will[90]. Finally Stilpo, who taught in Athens about
320 b.c., and who made a violent attack upon Plato’s theory of ideas,
adopted an ethical standpoint not unlike that of the Cynics[91], and counted
amongst his pupils the future founder of Stoicism. Stilpo enjoyed amongst
his contemporaries a boundless reputation; princes and peoples vied in
doing him honour[92]; but we have scarcely any record of his teaching, and
know him almost exclusively as one who contributed to form the mind of
Zeno.
Advance of 57. With the school founded by Phaedo of Elis we are
Philosophy. not concerned; the consideration of Plato and Aristotle
and their respective followers we must leave to another
chapter. We have already seen philosophy grow from being the interest of

isolated theorists into a force which is gathering men in groups, and
loosening the inherited bonds of city and class. So far its course has
violently oscillated, both as regards its subject-matter and its principles. But
its range is now becoming better defined, and in the period that is
approaching we shall find determined attempts to reach a comprehensive
solution of the problems presented to enquiring minds.

FOOTNOTES
[1] ‘Stoicism was the earliest offspring of the union between the religious
consciousness of the East and the intellectual culture of the West’ Lightfoot,
Philippians, p. 274.
[2] Amongst the most important of these are Th. Gomperz’ Greek Thinkers
(transl. by L. Magnus and G. G. Berry, London, 1901-5), and J. Adam’s
Religious teachers of Greece (Gifford Lectures, Edinburgh, 1908).
[3] ‘Most clear air is spread about it cloudless, and the white light floats over
it’ Hom. Od. 6, 46 (Butcher and Lang’s transl.). See also Adam, Religious
Teachers, p. 31.
[4] ‘It is not possible for another god to go beyond, or make void, the purpose
of Zeus’ Od. 5, 103.
[5] Il. 24, 308; Od. 14, 404.
[6] ib. 6, 188.
[7] Od. 8, 170.
[8] ib. 4, 237.
[9] ib. 20, 75.
[10] ib. 14, 84.
[11] ib. 17, 485.
[12] See below, § 325.
[13] So already Socrates understood it; Xen. Mem. i 3, 7.
[14] Hesiod, Works and Days, 252-255; and see below, § 254.
[15] ib. 289-292, quoted Xen. Mem. ii 1, 20.
[16] For instance, to Adam, Religious Teachers, Lect. v; Gomperz, Greek
Thinkers, bk. i, ch. ii.
[17] Orphic Fragments, vi 10-12 (fr. 123 Abel).
[18] Adam, p. 114.
[19] Gomperz, Greek Thinkers, i pp. 46-48.
[20] ib. 48-56.

[21] ib. 56-59.
[22] The terms ‘monism’ and ‘dualism’ have recently become the watchwords
of opposing armies of popular philosophers, especially in Germany. In this book
they stand for two aspects of philosophical thought which are not necessarily
irreconcileable. For without such contrasts as life and matter, universe and
individual, right and wrong, thought is impossible; so far we are all ‘dualists.’
Yet as soon as we fix our attention on these contrasts, we find that they are not
final, but point towards some kind of ultimate reconciliation; and to this extent
all diligent thinkers tend to become ‘monists.’ Similarly the broad monistic
principle ‘all things are one’ is meaningless apart from some kind of
interpretation in dualistic language.
[23] See below, §§ 71, 195.
[24] Gomperz, i 127.
[25] This phrase does not express a belief in polytheism, see Adam, p. 204.
[26] Xen. apud Euseb. Praep. ev. xiii 13.
[27] Xenophanes apud Sext. math. ix 193.
[28] Id. apud Arist. Rhet. ii 23.
[29] On Xenophanes see Gomperz, i pp. 155-164; Adam, pp. 198-211.
[30] ‘Eyes and ears are bad witnesses to men, unless their souls have wit’
Heracl. Fr. 4 (Bywater), 107 (Diels).
[31] ‘Much learning does not teach sense, else it had taught Hesiod and
Pythagoras, Xenophanes and Hecataeus’ Fr. 16 b, 40 d.
[32] ‘The Word is common, yet most men live as if they owned a private
understanding’ Fr. 92 b, 2 d.
[33] ‘All things move and nothing remains’ Plato Crat. 402 a.
[34] ‘Listening not to me but to the Word it is reasonable to confess that all
things are one’ Fr. 1 b, 50 d.
[35] ‘All things change with fire and fire with all things, as gold with goods
and goods with gold’ Fr. 22 b, 90 d; ‘neither God nor man created this World-
order (κόσμος), which is the same for all beings: but it has been and shall be an
ever-living fire’ Fr. 20 b, 30 d.
[36] ‘The fire shall one day come, judge all things and condemn them’ Fr. 26
b, 66 d.

[37] ‘Whilst we live, our souls are dead and buried in us; but when we die, our
souls revive and live’ Sext. Pyrrh. inst., iii 230 (Fr. 78 b, 88 d).
[38] ‘This Word is always existent’ Fr. 2 b, 1 d.
[39] ib.
[40] ‘There is but one wisdom, to understand the judgment by which all things
are steered through all’ Fr. 19 b, 41 d.
[41] ‘Men fail in comprehension before they have heard the Word and at first
even after they have heard it.... Other men do not observe what they do when
they are awake, just as they forget what they do when asleep’ Fr. 2 b, 1 d.

[42] Fr. 91 b, 114 d.
[43] Adam, pp. 217-222.
[44] Gomperz, i p. 63.
[45] See Gladisch, Herakleitos und Zoroaster; Ueberweg, Grundriss, p. 39;
above, § 13.
[45a] Gladisch traces this dualism in Heraclitus under the names of Zeus and
Hades (see his p. 26, note 39).
[45b] Clem. Strom. i 14; Suidas, s. v. Herakleitos. (Gladisch, pp. 65, 75).
[46] Agam. 155-161, 167-171.
[47] Gomperz, ii p. 13.
[48] ‘Half professor and half journalist—this is the best formula that we can
devise to characterise the sophist of the 5th century b.c.’ Gomperz, i p. 414.
[49] See below, §§ 124, 130, and 131.
[50] Gomperz, i p. 428.
[51] Xen. Mem. ii 1, 21 to 34.
[52] Gomperz, i p. 430.
[53] See below, § 89.
[54] Gomperz, i p. 433.
[55] ib. p. 437.
[56] Arist. Phys. viii 1; and see below, § 173.
[56a] Xen. Mem. i 1, 18.
[57] Plato, Apol. p. 32.
[58] Plato, Crito, p. 44 sqq.
[59] Gomperz, ii p. 48.
[60] Cic. Ac. i 4, 15; Tusc. disp. v 4, 10.
[61] Sen. Ep. 71, 7.
[62] Xen. Mem. iii 7.
[63] Xen. Mem. iv 6, 1; Epict. Disc. i 7, 11.
[64] Xen. Mem. iv 5, 12; Arist. Met. xiii 4.
[65] Xen. Mem. iv 7, 10. The Socratic μαντική must not be taken too
seriously; it is only one of many tentative suggestions for explaining the process
of reasoning, akin to our modern use of the term ‘genius’ in connexion with
achievements in poetry and art.
[66] Plato, Phaedo, p. 97 c. The passage gives the impression of a real
reminiscence; at the same time its recognition as such implies that Socrates was
not consistent in disregarding all physical speculations.
[67] Xen. Mem. i 4, 4.
[68] ib. i 4, 2.

[69] ib. i 4, 9, and iv 3, 14; Cic. N. D. ii 6, 18.
[70] ib. i 1, 19.
[71] ib.
[72] Plato, Alc. ii 143 a.
[73] Xen. Mem. iii 9, 4 and 5.
[74] ib.
[75] οὐδεὶς ἑκὼν ἁμαρτάνει; see Plato Prot. p. 345 d, Apol. p. 25, Xen. Mem.
iv 2, 20. No one is willingly ignorant, and no one does evil for any other reason
than that he is ignorant of the good.
[76] In accepting generally the statements of Xenophon as to the religious and
practical teaching of Socrates I am glad to find myself in agreement with Adam;
Gomperz on the other hand is more sceptical. It should however always be
realized that Socrates himself veiled his positive opinions under the form of
suggestions and working hypotheses or ‘divinations.’
[77] Mem. i 1, 1.
[78] Grote, History of Greece, ch. lxviii. Gomperz gives a very dramatic
representation of the attitude of an Athenian of the old school; Greek Thinkers, ii
pp. 94-97.
[79] ‘ex illius [Socratis] variis et diversis et in omnem partem diffusis
disputationibus alius aliud apprehenderat’ Cic. de Orat. iii 16, 61.
[80] παρὰ [Σωκράτους] τὸ καρτερικὸν λαβὼν καὶ τὸ ἀπαθὲς ζηλώσας Diog. L.
vi 2.
[81] ‘Antisthenes ... populares deos multos, naturalem unum esse dicens’ Cic.
N. D. i 13, 32.
[82] οὐδεὶς [θεὸν] εἰδέναι ἐξ εἰκόνος δύναται Clem. Alex. Protrept. p. 46 c.
[83] Epict. Disc. iii 22, 91.
[84] See below, § 303.
[85] Gomperz, ii p. 148, referring to Göttling’s book, Diogenes der Cyniker
oder die Philosophie des griechischen Proletariats (Halle 1851).
[86] ἀρέσκει αὐτοῖς τὸν λογικὸν καὶ τὸν φυσικὸν τόπον περιαιρεῖν Diog. L. vi
103.
[87] ib. vi 11.
[88] See Plato, Theaet. 155 e, Soph. 251 b; Aristotle, Met. vii 3, 7.
[89] See below, § 163.
[90] See below, §§ 220 and 221.
[91] ‘hoc inter nos et illos [Stilbonem etc.] interest; noster sapiens vincit
quidem incommodum omne, sed sentit; illorum ne sentit quidem’ Sen. Ep. 9, 3.
[92] Gomperz, ii p. 196.

CHAPTER III.
THE ACADEMY AND THE PORCH.

Political changes of 58. Before a hundred years had passed since the death
the 4th century. of Socrates, the face of the Greek world had been
completely changed. Athens, Lacedaemon, Corinth,
Thebes, which had been great powers, had sunk into comparative
insignificance; their preeminence was gone, and even of their independence
but little remained. Throughout Greece proper the Macedonian was master.
But if the old-fashioned politician suffered a bitter disappointment, and the
adherents of the old polytheism despaired of the future, there was rich
compensation for the young and the hopeful. Petty wars between
neighbouring cities, with their wearisome refrain ‘and the men they killed,
and the women and children they enslaved[1],’ began to be less common;
internal and still more murderous strife between bigoted oligarchs or
democrats began to be checked from without. For the enlightened Greek a
new world of enterprise had been opened up in the East. Alexander the
Great had not only conquered Asia Minor, and established everywhere the
Greek language and a Greek bureaucracy; he had opened the way to the far
East, and pointed out India and even China as fields for the merchant and
the colonizer. His work had been partly frustrated by the disorders that
followed his death; but if achievement was thus hindered, hopes were not so
quickly extinguished. These new hopes were not likely to be accompanied
by any lasting regrets for the disappearance of ancient systems of
government now regarded as effete or ridiculous, or of inherited
mythologies which were at every point in conflict with the moral sense[2].
East and West. 59. The same historic events which opened the East to
Hellenic adventurers also made the way into Europe
easy for the Oriental. As the soldier and the administrator travelled
eastward, so the merchant and the philosopher pushed his way to the West.
Not merely in Persia had ancient superstitions been swept away by
reforming zeal; the Jews were now spreading from town to town the
enthusiasm of a universalized religion which was ridding itself of bloody

sacrifices; and, for the time at least, the humane philosophy of the Buddha
was dominant in India, was being preached far and wide by self-sacrificing
monks, and was inspiring the policy of great monarchies. We find it hard to
picture the clashing of ideals, enthusiasms, and ambitions which was at this
time taking place in all the great cities of the old world; but it is certain that
in the universal excitement the old distinctions of Greek and barbarian, Jew
and Gentile, rich and poor, free and slave, man and woman were
everywhere becoming weakened, and community of thought and
temperament were beginning to reunite on a new basis individuals who had
broken loose from the ties of ancient society.
New schools of 60. During this fourth century b.c. the foundations
philosophy. were laid of the four philosophical schools which were
destined to vie one with another for the allegiance of the
Roman world. The Socratic schools which we have already mentioned,
those of the Cynics and Cyrenaics, did not perhaps altogether die out; in
particular the Cynic missionaries appear to have been a social force until
the second century b.c. But their intellectual basis was too narrow to admit
of their effective transplantation to new soil. At the end of the century each
gave place to a new school, which preserved the central doctrines of its
predecessor. The Socratic paradoxes were handed on from the Cynics to the
Stoics; the doctrine that pleasure is the good was accepted by Epicurus.
Stoics and Epicureans disputed with a bitterness as yet unequalled, finding
themselves just as much opposed upon the subjects of logic and physics,
which they introduced anew into popular philosophy, as upon the questions
of ethics on which their antipathies were inherited. Between them stood two
schools which had meanwhile established themselves. Plato, himself a
companion of Socrates, founded the Academy at Athens about 380 b.c.; and
if he did not impress his own teaching upon it with absolute fixity, still the
school flourished under a succession of leaders, always proud of the fame
of its founder, and rendering him at least a nominal allegiance. From the
Academy branched off the school of the Peripatetics, founded by Plato’s
pupil Aristotle about 350 b.c. After Aristotle’s death this school gravitated
towards the Academics, and in later centuries there seemed little difference,
if any, between the two. If Stoicism may be called the child of Cynism, it
largely drew nourishment from these two schools and their founders. Some
account of the teaching of Plato and Aristotle is therefore needed here,
partly because of the great importance of both in the general history of

philosophy, partly because of their direct influence upon the subject of this
book. On account of the much greater prominence of the Academy in the
later history we shall often use this term to refer to the general teaching of
the two allied schools.
Plato. 61. Of all the companions of Socrates far the most
famous is Plato of Athens (427-347 b.c.), the founder of
the philosophical association known as the ‘Academy.’ In the general
judgment of lovers of Greek letters he stands out not merely as a great
master of Attic prose style, but also as the ablest exponent of the true mind
of Socrates[3], and the most brilliant light of Greek philosophy[4]. On the
first point this judgment stands unchallenged; for delicate and good-natured
wit, felicity of illustration and suggestiveness of thought the Platonic
dialogues are unrivalled. But it is only in his earlier writings that we can
accept Plato as a representative of Socrates; after the death of his master he
travelled for many years in Egypt, Lower Italy, and Sicily, and absorbed in
particular much of the teaching of the Pythagoreans. The theory of ‘ideas,’
the special characteristic of Plato’s later work, is not strictly Socratic.
Neither, we must add, is it of first-rate importance in the history of human
thought; from our point of view it lies apart from the main current both of
speculation and of practice. It was a still-born theory, not accepted even by
Plato’s successors in the control of the Academy[5]. We are therefore very
little concerned with the direct teaching of Plato; but all the more readily it
should be acknowledged that the Stoics were often indebted to him for help
in the treatment of important details, and that the Platonic attitude remained
for them a factor of which they needed continuously to take account.
Plato’s realism. 62. A striking feature of the Platonic dialogues is that
their results are usually negative. First the opinions of
the crowd, then those of Socrates’ contemporaries the ‘sophists’ and of the
other Socratic schools are subjected to a cross-examination, under which
they are one and all shewn to be unreasonable. This cross-examination is
quite in the Socratic spirit, and is before all things a mental gymnastic,
training the dialectician to observe with keener eye and to discuss with
apter tongue than his fellows. Gradually there emerges from a mass of
doubts something like a positive theory that Plato is prepared to adopt. The
true reasoning is that of induction from the particular to the general, from
the individual to the class. In the class name we come upon the true being

of the individual, and by a right definition of it we discern what each thing
really is. The ‘idea,’ which corresponds to the class name, is alone really
existent; the individual is a more or less imperfect imitation of it (μίμησις).
In this way Plato found what seemed to him a solution of a difficulty which
Socrates hardly felt, that of explaining the participation (μέθεξις) of the
particular in the general (ὑπόθεσις or ἰδέα). Thus where ordinary men see
‘horses,’ and Antisthenes holds that they are right, Plato sees ‘horsiness,’ or
the idea of ‘horse.’ In the language of medieval philosophy Plato is a realist,
that is, one who holds that our Ideas are more than what men mean when
they say ‘mere ideas’; that they are Realities, and have their being in a truly
existing world; and that in knowing them we know what is. But just as Plato
holds that general conceptions are alone true and real, so he necessarily
maintains that objects perceivable by the senses are only half-real, and that
the ordinary man lives in a world of illusions. Thus the thoughts of the
philosopher are separated by an abyss from the world in which men live and
die.
God and the soul. 63. Upon the basis of the individual ‘ideas’ Plato
builds up by a process of classification and induction
higher and smaller classes of ideas, until we begin to see the vision of a
single idea, a class which includes all classes, a supreme ‘being’ from which
all being is derived. This highest idea is variously suggested by the names
‘the Good,’ ‘the Beautiful,’ ‘the One.’ By a sudden transformation it
becomes the Creator (δημιουργός) of the universe. Containing in itself all
being, it needs for its operation some kind of formless and inert matter; for
this the name ἄπειρον, ‘the unlimited,’ is taken from Anaximander. The
whole created universe may be considered as the joint production of the
‘idea’ and the ‘unlimited’; and the cosmology of Anaxagoras, ‘all things
were together, and mind came and ordered them,’ is substantially justified.
The world thus created is both good and beautiful, for it is made by a good
Creator on the best of patterns.
The human soul is of triple nature. The highest part, the rational soul (τὸ
λογιστικόν), is seated in the head; the emotional soul (τὸ θυμοειδές) in the
heart; the appetitive soul (τὸ ἐπιθυμητικόν) in the belly. Over these two
lower souls the reasoning part should hold control, as a driver over two
unruly steeds[6]. The rational soul has existed before birth, and may hope
for immortality, for it is knit up with the idea of ‘being.’ Ultimately it may

even attain to perfection, if it is purified as by fire from baser elements that
have attached themselves to it.
Ethics and Politics. 64. Plato himself does not formulate an ethical ideal
of the same precision that his successors used, but we
infer from his works a goal towards which he points. Thus the ethical end
for each man is the greatest possible participation in the idea of the good,
the closest attainable imitation of the deity. The virtue of each part of the
human soul lies in the fit performance of its proper work; that of the
reasoning soul is Wisdom (σοφία); of the emotional soul Courage
(ἀνδρεία); of the appetitive soul Soberness (σοφροσύνη). Over all (it is
hinted rather than stated) rules the supreme virtue of Justice (δικαιοσύνη),
assigning to each part its proper function. Thus the four cardinal virtues are
deduced as a practical application from the Platonic psychology. The high
position assigned to Justice leads up to the practical doctrine of Moderation
(μετριότης); even the virtues are restricted both in their intensity and in
their spheres of work, and if any virtue passes its proper limit it becomes
changed into the vice that borders on it. Thus the ideal of practical life is the
‘moderate man,’ calm, considerate, and self-respecting, touched with a
warm flow of feeling, but never carried away into excitement; and even this
ideal is strictly subordinate to that of the life of philosophic contemplation.
The ideal State is modelled on the individual man. To the three parts of
the soul correspond three classes of citizens; the rulers, whose virtue is
Wisdom; the guardians, on whom Courage is incumbent; the labourers and
tradesmen, who owe the State Soberness and obedience. Thus the political
system to which Plato leans is that of an Aristocracy; for the middle class in
his state has only an executive part in the government, and the lower orders
are entirely excluded from it.
Aristotle. 65. By far the greatest of Plato’s pupils was Aristotle
of Stagira (384-322 b.c.), who introduced into
philosophy, now convulsed by the disputes of the disciples of Socrates, a
spirit of reconciliation. From his point of view the various contentions are
not so much erroneous as defective. To attain the truth we need first to
collect the various opinions that are commonly held, and then to seek the
reconciling formula of which each one is a partial statement.
The ten categories.

66. In his investigation Aristotle did not altogether break with Plato’s
theory of ideas, but brought them from a transcendental world into touch
with common life. He held fast to the method of induction (ἐπαγωγή) from
the particular to the general, and agreed that we reach the true nature of
each thing when we have determined the class-conception. But the class-
conception or idea (ἰδέα), though the most real existence, does not exist
independently, but only in and through the particulars, which compose the
class. Having thus come to see that there are gradations of existence, we
need to inquire what these are; and to classify the various kinds of judgment
with regard to which we inquire whether they are true or false. Now by
observation we find that judgments or predications have ten different
shapes, to which therefore there must correspond ten kinds of existence.
These are the well-known ‘categories’ of Aristotle, and are as follows:

(i) ‘substance,’ as when we say ‘this is a man,’ ‘a horse’;
(ii) ‘quantity,’ as that he is ‘six feet high’;
(iii) ‘quality,’ as ‘a grammarian’;
(iv) ‘relation,’ as ‘twice as much’;
(v) ‘place,’ as ‘at Athens’;
(vi) ‘time,’ as ‘last year’;
(vii) ‘position,’ as ‘lying down’;
(viii) ‘possession,’ as ‘with a sword’;
(ix) ‘action,’ as ‘cuts’; and
(x) ‘passion,’ as ‘is cut’ or ‘is burned.’

Aristotle thus reinstates the credit of the common man; he it is who
possesses the substance of truth and gives it habitual expression by speech,
even roughly indicating the various kinds of existence by different forms of
words. It is now indicated that a study of grammar is required as the
foundation of logic.
Aristotle also greatly advanced the study of that kind of reasoning which
proceeds from the general to the particular, and which is best expressed in
terms of the ‘syllogism’ (συλλογισμός), of which he defined the various
forms.
The four causes. 67. In the study of physics Aristotle picks up the
thread which Socrates had dropped deliberately, that is,

the teaching of the Ionic philosophers. Either directly from Empedocles, or
from a consensus of opinion now fairly established, he accepted the
doctrine of the four elements (στοιχεῖα), earth, water, air, and fire; but to
these he added a fifth (πεμπτὸν στοιχεῖον, quinta essentia), the aether,
which fills the celestial spaces. Behind this analysis lies the more important
problem of cosmology, the question how this world comes to be. Collecting
once more the opinions commonly held, Aristotle concludes that four
questions are usually asked, and that in them the search is being made for
four ‘causes,’ which will solve the respective questions. The four causes
are:

(i) the Creator, or ‘efficient cause,’ answering the question;—Who
made the world?
(ii) the Substance, or ‘material cause’;—of what did he make it?
(iii) the Plan, or ‘modal cause’;—according to what design?
(iv) the End, or ‘final cause’;—for what purpose?[7]

Reviewing these ‘causes’ Aristotle concludes that the first, third, and fourth
are ultimately one, the Creator containing in his own nature both the plan
and the purpose of his work[8]. The solution is therefore dualistic, and
agrees substantially with that of Plato; the ultimate existences are (i) an
informing power, and (ii) matter that has the potentiality of accepting form.
In consequence of this dualism of Aristotle the term ‘matter’ (ὕλη,
materia) has ever since possessed associations which did not belong to it in
the time of the hylozoists. Matter now begins to suggest something lifeless,
inert, and unintelligent; and to be sharply contrasted not only with such
conceptions as ‘God’ and ‘mind,’ but also with motion and force. For this
reason the Stoics in reintroducing monism preferred a new term, as we shall
see below[9].
The microcosm. 68. What God is to the universe, that the soul is to the
body, which is a ‘little universe[10].’ But the reasoning
part of the soul only is entirely distinct; this is of divine nature, and has
entered the body from without; it is at once its formative principle, its plan,
and its end. The lower parts of the soul are knit up with the body, and must
perish with it. So far Aristotle’s teaching differs little from that of Plato; but
a new point of view is introduced when he speaks of the soul as subject to

‘diseases’ (παθήματα), and thus assigns to the practical philosopher a social
function as the comrade of the physician. Amongst the diseases he specially
names Pity and Fear, which assail the emotional part of the soul. Their cure
is found in ‘purging’ (κάθαρσις), that is to say in their complete expulsion
from the soul, as reason and circumstances may require; but Aristotle by no
means considers that the analogy between body and soul is complete, or
that the emotions should always be regarded as injurious[11].
Ethics and Politics. 69. In setting forth an ideal for human activity
Aristotle conceives that other philosophers have differed
more in words than in substance, and he hopes to reconcile them through
the new term ‘blessedness’ (εὐδαιμονία). This blessedness is attained when
the soul is actively employed in a virtuous way, and when it is so
circumstanced that it commands the instruments of such action, that is, in a
life which is adequately furnished. On such activity pleasure must assuredly
attend, and it is therefore needless to seek it of set purpose. Further, virtue
appears personified in the ‘true gentleman’ (καλὸς κἀγαθός), who ever
avoids vicious extremes, and finds his highest satisfaction in pure
contemplation, just as the Creator himself lives to contemplate the world he
has produced[12].
In politics Aristotle can find ground for approving in turn of monarchy,
oligarchy, and democracy, according to the circumstances of each state. We
cannot however but feel that his sympathies point most towards monarchy,
and that his personal association with Alexander the Great was in full
harmony with his inmost convictions. As a means of government he
advocates before all things the education of the young.
Social 70. The philosophies of Plato and Aristotle,
prepossessions. comprehensive in their range, brilliant and varied in
their colouring, nevertheless appeal effectively only to a
limited circle. Socrates had been the companion of rich and poor alike;
Plato and Aristotle addressed themselves to men of wealth, position, and
taste. Their sympathies appear clearly in their political systems, in which
the sovereign or the aristocracy is considered fit to play a part, whilst the
many are practically excluded from the commonwealth, sometimes as a
harmless flock which needs kindly shepherding, and at other times as a
dangerous crowd which must be deceived or enslaved for its own good.
These prepossessions, which we shall find reappearing within the Stoic

system, appear to weaken the practical forcefulness of both philosophies. In
the ideal character the Socratic ‘force’ has disappeared, and ‘self-restraint’
alone is the standard of virtue; the just man moves quietly and
conventionally through life, perhaps escaping blame, but hardly achieving
distinction. In resuming the study of ontology, which Socrates had treated
as a ‘mist from Ionia,’ bright fancies had been elaborated rather than
dominating conceptions; the deity of Aristotle seems but a faint reflex of the
god of Socrates and the Cynics, and neither the ‘idea’ of Plato or the
‘matter’ of Aristotle is so well fitted for the world’s hard work as the atoms
of Leucippus and Democritus. The teachers who succeeded to the control of
the two schools inclined more and more to engross themselves in special
studies, and to leave on one side the great controversial problems.
The Academics. 71. The followers of Plato were known as the
‘Academics’: amongst them we must distinguish
between the members of the ‘old Academy,’ as Cicero terms them[13], and
those who followed the innovations of Arcesilaus. The old Academy chiefly
developed the ethical side of Plato’s teaching, finding that the path of virtue
is indicated by the natural capacities of the individual. Thus Xenocrates of
Chalcedon (396-314 b.c.) taught that each man’s happiness resulted from
the virtue proper to him (οἰκεία ἀρετή)[14]; whilst Polemo of Athens (head
of the school 314-270 b.c.) is said by Cicero to have defined it as consisting
in ‘virtuous living, aided by those advantages to which nature first draws
us,’ thereby practically adopting the standard of Aristotle[15]. The teaching
of Polemo had a direct influence upon that of Zeno the founder of Stoicism.
But with the first successes of Stoicism the Academy revived its
dialectical position, in strong opposition to the dogmatism of the new
school. Arcesilaus of Pitane in Aeolia (315-240 b.c.) revived the Socratic
cross-examination, always opposing himself to any theory that might be
propounded to him, and drawing the conclusion that truth could never be
certainly known[16]. Life must therefore be guided by considerations of
probability, and the ethical standard is that ‘of which a reasonable defence
may be made[17].’ This sceptical attitude was carried still further by
Carneades of Cyrene (214-129 b.c.), whose acute criticism told upon the
Stoic leaders of his time, and forced them to abandon some of their most
important positions. From this time a reconciliation between the two
schools set in[18].

The Peripatetics. 72. The members of the Peripatetic school founded by
Aristotle are of less importance to us. The Romans
found little difference between their teaching and that of the earlier
Academy. Cicero mentions that the Stoic Panaetius was a keen student of
two of the pupils of Aristotle, Theophrastus (his successor as head of the
Peripatetic school) and Dicaearchus[19]; amongst later teachers in whose
views he is interested he names Hieronymus, who held that the supreme
good was freedom from pain[20]; Callipho, who combined virtue with
pleasure, and Diodorus who combined it with freedom from pain[21]; and
amongst his contemporaries Staseas of Naples, who stated the same
doctrines in a slightly different form[22], and Cratippus, whom he selected
as a teacher for his own son[23]. It was a common complaint of these
teachers that the Stoics had stolen their doctrines wholesale, and (as is the
way with thieves) had altered the names only[24]. All these writers however
agree in denying the doctrine which Zeno accepted from the Cynics that
‘virtue is sufficient for happiness,’ and lay stress upon the supply of
external goods (χορηγία) as needed to admit of the active exercise of virtue.
They were diligent students of the written works of their founder, and thus
opened the way for the work of erudition and interpretation which found its
centre in Alexandria in a later period.
Zeno. 73. Amidst the conflict of these schools Zeno grew
up. Born in Citium on the island of Cyprus in 336 b.c.,
in the same year in which Alexander became king of Macedon, he heard as
a boy of the Greek conquest of the East, and was only 13 years of age when
its course was checked by the death of Alexander. Of the town of Citium the
inhabitants were partly Greek, partly Phoenician; and Zeno, whether or not
he was of Phoenician blood, certainly derived from his environment
something of the character of the enterprising and much-travelled
Phoenician nation, and imparted this trait to the school which he founded.
He was nicknamed by his contemporaries ‘the Phoenician,’ and the title
clung to his followers[25]. His father was a merchant of purple, and often
travelled in the one direction to Tyre and Sidon, in the other as far as
Athens, whence he brought back a number of ‘Socratic books,’ which were
eagerly read by the young Zeno, and in time attracted him to the famous
Greek city[26]. We may presume that when he first came to Athens he
intended to carry further his studies without abandoning his calling; but

when news reached him of the wreck of the ship which carried all his
goods, he welcomed it as a call to devote himself entirely to philosophy[27].
His first step in Athens was to seek out the man who best represented the
character of Socrates, as represented in Xenophon’s Memoirs; and it is said
that a bookseller accordingly pointed him to Crates of Thebes[28], the pupil
and (it would seem) the successor of Diogenes as acknowledged head of the
Cynic school.
Zeno joins the 74. Our authorities busy themselves chiefly with
Cynics. narrating the eccentricities of Crates, who wore warm
clothing in summer and rags in winter, entered the
theatre as the audience were coming out, and drank water instead of wine.
But doubtless, like his predecessors in the Cynic school, he was a man of
the true Socratic character, who had trained himself to bear hunger and
thirst, heat and cold, flattery and abuse. His life and wisdom won him the
love of the high-born Hipparchia, who turned from her wealthy and noble
suitors, choosing instead the poverty of Crates, who had abandoned all his
possessions. In his company she went from house to house, knocking at all
doors in turn, sometimes admonishing the inmates of their sins, sometimes
sharing with them their meals[29]. In such a life Zeno recognised the
forcefulness of Socrates, and in the dogmas of the Cynic school he reached
the foundation on which that life was built. From that foundation neither
Zeno nor his true followers ever departed, and thus Stoicism embodied and
spread the fundamental dogmas of Cynism, that the individual alone is
really existent, that virtue is the supreme good, and that the wise man,
though a beggar, is truly a king.
Zeno’s Republic. 75. Whilst still an adherent of the Cynic school[30],
Zeno wrote his Πολιτεία or Republic, which is evidently
an attack on Plato’s work with the same title[31]. If this work does not reveal
to us the fully developed philosopher, it at least shews us better than any
other evidence what the man Zeno was. His ideal was the establishment of a
perfect State, a completion of the work in which Alexander had failed; and
he found a starting-point in a treatise by Antisthenes on the same subject.
The ideal State must embrace the whole world, so that a man no longer
says, ‘I am of Athens,’ or ‘of Sidon,’ but ‘I am a citizen of the world[32].’ Its
laws must be those which are prescribed by nature, not by convention. It
will have no images or temples, for these are unworthy of the nature of the

deity; no sacrifices, because he cannot be pleased by costly gifts; no law-
courts, for its citizens will do one another no harm; no statues, for the
virtues of its inhabitants will be its adornment[33]; no gymnasia, for its
youth must not waste their time in idle exercises[34].
The people will not be divided into classes (and here Plato’s Republic is
contradicted), for all alike will be wise men[35]; nor will men and women be
clothed differently, or shamefacedly hide any part of their bodies[36]. No
man will speak of a woman as his property, for women will belong to the
community only[37]. As for the dead, men will not trouble whether they
bury them (as the Greeks), burn them (as the Indians), or give them to the
birds (as the Persians); for it matters not at all what happens to men’s dead
bodies[38], but whether their souls shall reach the abodes of the blest, or
need hereafter to be purged by fire from the foulness they have contracted
through contact with the body[39]. To conclude, Love shall be master
throughout the State, being as it were a God cooperating for the good of the
whole[40]; and the wise man shall be a citizen in it, not a missionary, and
shall be surrounded with wife and children[41].
Zeno seeks 76. Zeno, after writing his Republic, took up a
knowledge. position more independent of the Cynics. He could not,
perhaps, avoid noticing that the coming of his model
Kingdom was hindered by the narrowmindedness of the philosophers, their
disagreement one with another, and their lack of clear proofs for their
dogmas. He began to realize that the study of dialectics and physics was of
more importance than his Cynic teachers would allow; and he seems to
have conceived the idea of uniting the Socratic schools. He became eager to
learn from all sources, and turned first to Stilpo, who then represented the
Megarian school[42]. Crates, we are told, tried to drag him back from Stilpo
by force; to which Zeno retorted that argument would be more to the
point[43]. From this time he no longer restricted his outlook to force of
character, but sought also for argumentative power and well ascertained
knowledge. The foundations of his state must be surely laid, not upon the
changing tide of opinion, but on the rock of knowledge. That a wise man
should hesitate, change his views, withdraw his advice, he felt would be a
bitter reproach[44]. If indeed virtue, the supreme good, is knowledge, must it
not follow that knowledge is within the reach of man?

Zeno’s theory of 77. The chief cause of error, Zeno found, lay in hasty
knowledge. assertion; and this he held was a fault not so much of the
intellect as of the will. In the simplest case the senses
present to the mind a ‘picture’ (φαντασία, visum), carrying with it the
suggestion of a statement (e.g. ‘that is a horse’). But it is for the man to
consider well whether this suggestion is true, and only to give his ‘assent’
(συγκατάθεσις, adsensus) when he is so assured. Assent is an act of the will,
and therefore in our power. Of a picture to which he has given his assent the
wise man should retain a firm hold; it then becomes an item of
‘comprehension’ (φαντασία καταληπτική, comprehensio), and may be
stored in the memory, thus preparing the way for further acquisitions of
knowledge, which in the end combine in ‘scientific knowledge’ (ἐπιστήμη,
scientia).
This theory is little more than an exhortation against the prevailing error
of hasty thought (δόξα, opinio); but it made a very deep impression,
especially as enforced by Zeno’s gestures. He stretched out his fingers and
shewed the open palm, saying ‘Such is a picture.’ He partially contracted
his fingers, and said ‘This is assent.’ Making a closed fist, he said ‘This is
comprehension.’ Then closing in the left hand over the right he pressed his
fist tight, and said ‘This is science, and only the wise man can attain to
it[45].’
We have no reason to suppose that this theory was in any way suggested
by Stilpo, from whom however Zeno probably learnt to attach importance
to the formal part of reasoning, such as ‘definition’ and the use of the
syllogism. With Stilpo he shared an aversion to the Platonic theory of ideas,
maintaining that ideas are by no means realities but have only a ‘kind of
existence’ in our minds, or (as we should call it to-day) a ‘subjective
existence[46].’
Zeno studies under 78. In becoming in turn a listener to Polemo, Zeno,
Polemo. we may imagine, entered a new world. He left behind
the rough manners, the stinging retorts, and the narrow
culture of the Cynics and Eristics[47], to sit with other intelligent students[48]
at the feet of a man of cultured manners[49] and wide reading, who to a love
for Homer and Sophocles[50] had, we must suppose, added an intimate
knowledge of the works of Plato and Aristotle, was himself a great

writer[51], and yet consistently taught that not learning, but a natural and
healthy life was the end to be attained. That Zeno profited much from his
studies under Polemo we may conjecture from Polemo’s good-natured
complaint, ‘I see well what you are after: you break down my garden wall
and steal my teaching, which you dress in Phoenician clothes[52].’ From this
time it became a conventional complaint that Stoic doctrine was stolen from
that of the Academics: yet the sharp conflict between the two schools shews
that this cannot apply to essentials. But in two important matters at least
Zeno must have been indebted to Academic teaching. This school had
elaborated the doctrine of Anaxagoras, which so attracted Socrates, that the
world began with the working of mind upon unordered matter. So too,
according to all our authorities, Zeno taught that there are two beginnings,
the active which is identified with the deity or Logos, and the passive which
is inert matter, or substance without quality[53]. This doctrine appears to
pledge Zeno to a dualistic view of the universe.
‘Soul is body.’ 79. On the other hand the Platonic teaching on the
soul was reversed by Zeno. He denied the opposition
between soul and body. ‘Soul is Breath[54],’ he taught, and ‘soul is body[55].’
With Plato’s threefold division of the soul he would have nothing to do;
rather he maintained that the soul has eight parts[56], each displaying itself
in a distinct power or capacity, whilst all of them are qualities or operations
of one soul in various relations[57]. In this part of his philosophy Zeno
appears as a strong monist, and his debt to the Platonists is necessarily
restricted to details.
Zeno studies 80. It would seem then that Zeno after seeking for
Heraclitus. philosophic safety for some twenty years in one harbour
after another had so far made shipwreck. But from this
shipwreck of his intellectual hopes he could afterwards count the beginning
of a fair voyage[58]. As he eagerly discussed with his younger fellow-
student Arcesilaus the teaching of their master Polemon, he took courage to
point out its weak points[59], and began to quote in his own defence not only
his previous teachers Crates and Stilpo, but also the works of Heraclitus[60].
He thus broke down the barrier which Socrates had set up against the Ionic
philosophers. From Heraclitus Zeno drew two doctrines of first-rate
importance; the first, that of the eternal fire[61] and its mutation into the

elements in turn[62]; the second (already referred to) that of the Logos[63]. It
is evident that the Heraclitean doctrine of fire breaks down the distinction
between God and the world, active and passive, soul and body; and is
therefore inconsistent with the dualism which Zeno had partly borrowed
from Plato. It is not clear whether Zeno attained to clearness on this point;
but in the general teaching of the Stoics the monistic doctrine prevailed[64].
Hence God is not separate from body, but is himself body in its purest
form[65]. The Logos or divine reason is the power which pervades and gives
shape to the universe[66]; and this Logos is identical with the deity, that is
with the primitive and creative Fire[67]. The Logos (ὀρθὸς λόγος, vera ratio)
brings into harmony the parts of philosophy; for it is also on the one hand
the guide to right reasoning[68]; on the other hand the law which prescribes
what is right for the State and for the individual[69].
Zeno opens his 81. When Zeno definitely accepted the teaching of
school. Heraclitus, he felt bound to break finally with the school
of Polemo, and he founded soon after 300 b.c. a school
of his own, which was rapidly crowded. His followers were at first called
Zenonians, but afterwards Stoics, from the ‘picture porch’ (so called
because it was decorated with paintings by Polygnotus) in which he
delivered his lectures. He now applied himself afresh to the problem of
ethics. Whilst still adhering to the Cynic views that ‘virtue is the only
good,’ and that ‘example is more potent than precept,’ he entirely rejected
the intuitional basis which the Cynics had accepted, deciding in favour of
the claims of reason. He found his ideal in ‘consistency’ (ὁμολογία,
convenientia)[70]; as the Logos or Word rules in the universe, so should it
also in the individual. Those who live by a single and harmonious principle
possess divine favour and an even flow of life[71]; those that follow
conflicting practices are ill-starred[72]. In this consistency there is found
virtue, and (here again he follows the Cynics) virtue is sufficient for
happiness[73], and has no need of any external support.
His theory of virtue. 82. But whilst the virtue of the Cynics is something
detached and self-contained, and is ‘natural’ only in the
sense that it is not determined by custom or authority, that of Zeno is bound
up with the whole scheme of the universe. For the universe puts before men
certain things, which though rightly named ‘indifferent’ by the Cynics, and

wrongly named ‘good’ by the Academics, have yet a certain value (ἀξία,
aestimatio), and are a natural goal for men’s actions[74]. Such are health,
prosperity, good name, and other things which the Academics named
‘things according to nature’ (τὰ κατὰ φύσιν). These Zeno took over, not as a
part of his theory of virtue, but as the basis of it[75]; and for things having
value introduced the term ‘of high degree’ (προηγμένα), and for their
opposites the term ‘of low degree’ (ἀποπροηγμένα), these terms being
borrowed from court life. Thus virtue alone is queen, and all things
naturally desired are subject to her command[76]. The end of life is therefore
to live consistently, keeping in view the aims set before us by nature, or
shortly, to live ‘consistently with nature.’ Our authorities do not agree as to
whether Zeno or Cleanthes was the first to use this phrase[77]; but there can
be no doubt that the doctrine is that of Zeno, that it is a fundamental part of
the Stoic system, and that it was maintained unaltered by all orthodox
Stoics. On the other hand the Academics and Peripatetics ridiculed these
new and barbarous terms προηγμένα and ἀποπροηγμένα, and their view has
generally been supported both in ancient and modern times[78]. We cannot
however question the right of Zeno to reserve a special term for that which
is morally good; he was in fact feeling his way towards the position, still
imperfectly recognized, that the language of common life is inadequate to
the exact expression of philosophic principles[79].
Zeno’s syllogisms. 83. In expounding his system Zeno made much use of
the syllogism, thereby laying the foundations of a new
style of oratory, consisting of short and pointed clauses, which became a
characteristic of his school[80]. He no doubt regarded this form as a sure
method of attaining truth; but even at the present day the principle that truth
can only be reached from facts and not from words is not everywhere
admitted. The syllogisms of Zeno have all their weak points, and as a rule
the term which is common to the major and minor premisses suffers a shift
of meaning. These syllogisms can no longer convince us, and even in
antiquity they were severely criticized. But they are excellent aids to the
memory, and so serve the same end as the catechisms of the Reformation
period. Amongst the syllogisms attributed to Zeno are these: ‘That which
has reason is better than that which has not reason; but nothing is better
than the universe; therefore the universe has reason[81].’ ‘No one trusts a
secret to a drunken man; but one trusts a secret to a good man; therefore a

good man will not be drunken[82].’ ‘No evil is accompanied by glory; but
death is accompanied by glory; therefore death is no evil[83].’ Such
syllogisms were embedded in the numerous works of Zeno, of which many
were certainly extant as late as the time of Epictetus[84].
Epicurus and 84. At the very time when Zeno was elaborating the
Arcesilaus. doctrines of the Porch, another school of equal eminence
was established at Athens by Epicurus (341-270 b.c.) in
his Gardens. Epicurus combined the ethical principle of the Cyrenaics, that
pleasure is the end of life, with the atomistic philosophy of Democritus; he
had no respect for the study of dialectic, but placed the criterion of truth in
the observations of the senses, leaving little room for the participation of
mind or will. Thus in every part of philosophy his teaching was opposed to
that of Zeno, and the two schools during their whole existence were in the
sharpest conflict. We may nevertheless notice some points of contact
between them. Both founded, or conceived that they founded their ethical
doctrine upon physical proofs; that is, both maintained that the end of life
which they put forward was that prescribed by natural law. As a
consequence, they agreed in removing the barrier which Socrates had set up
against the pursuit of natural science. Both again were positive teachers, or
(in the language of the ancients) propounders of dogmas; and here they
came into conflict with the Academic school, which maintained, and was
soon about to emphasize, the critical spirit of Socrates and Plato. For in the
last years of Zeno’s life his old fellow-pupil Arcesilaus became head of the
Academic school (270 b.c.), and at once directed his teaching against
Zeno’s theory of knowledge[85]. Following the practice of Socrates and of
Plato’s dialogues, he argued against every point of view presented, and
concluded that certain truth could not be known by man[86]. He pressed
Zeno closely as to his definition of ‘comprehension,’ and induced him to
add a clause which, in the opinion of his opponent, shewed the
worthlessness of the whole doctrine[87]. Thus was raised the question of the
κριτήριον or test of truth, which for at least a century to come sharply
divided the schools[88].
Zeno at Athens. 85. The conflict between these three schools, which
from this time on greatly surpassed all others in
importance, did not embitter the political life of Athens. The citizens

watched with amusement the competition of the schools for numbers and
influence, and drew their profit from the crowds of foreigners who were
drawn to Athens by its growing fame as a centre of adult education. To the
heads of the schools they were ready to pay every mark of respect. With
Zeno they deposited the keys of their gates, and they awarded him during
his lifetime a gold crown and a bronze statue. His fame spread abroad, and
those of his fellow-citizens of Citium who were then resident at Sidon
claimed a share in it. In his old age the high-minded Antigonus Gonatas
(who occupied the throne of Macedonia with varying fortune from 278 to
239 b.c.) looked to him for advice and help. But no offers of public
employment could draw Zeno himself from his simple life and the young
companions who surrounded him: like Socrates, he thought that he could
best serve the State by sending out others to take part in its duties[89]. He
died in the year 264 b.c.[90], having been engaged in teaching for more than
30 years from the time when he ‘discovered the truth[91].’
Honours paid to 86. The vote which the Athenians passed in honour of
him. Zeno, shortly before his death, deserves record by its
contrast with that by which their predecessors had
condemned Socrates. It ran somewhat as follows:

‘Whereas Zeno the son of Mnaseas from Citium has spent
many years in this city in the pursuit of philosophy; and has
been throughout a good man in all respects; and has
encouraged the young men who resorted to him in virtue and
temperance, and has sped them on the right path; and has
made his own life an example to all men, for it has been
consistent with the teaching he has set forth;
Now it seems good to the people of Athens to commend
Zeno the son of Mnaseas from Citium, and to crown him
with a golden crown (in accordance with the law) for his
virtue and temperance, and to build him a tomb on the
Ceramicus at the public expense. And the people shall elect
five Athenian citizens to provide for the making of the
crown and the building of the tomb. And the town clerk shall
engrave this vote on two pillars, and shall set up one in the
Academy, and one in the Lyceum. And the treasurer shall

make due allotment of the expense, that all men may see that
the people of Athens honours good men both in their life
time and after their death[92].’

We have no reason to doubt the sincerity of this tribute. It is true that all
the charges brought against Socrates hold even more forcibly as against
Zeno. But the spirit of political and religious independence was now dead,
and the advantage of the philosophical schools to the fame and business
interests of the city had become clearer; so that nothing prevented any
longer the open recognition of Zeno’s virtues and eminence. Who will may
also read in the decree a belated mark of respect to the memory of Socrates.
Zeno’s breadth of 87. In this sketch of the life of Zeno no attempt has
view. been made to give a complete view of his philosophy;
but a few landmarks have been indicated, by which it
may be possible to distinguish which parts of it were his own, which were
taken over from others, and how all were gradually combined in one whole.
Zeno had not the kind of originality which begins by assuming a general
principle, and then explains all things human and divine by deductions from
it. Instead of this he gathered together (as Aristotle had done before, but
with a very different bias) what seemed most sound and illuminating in the
teaching of all the schools which surrounded him. He did this in a positive
spirit, feeling assured that truth exists and is discernible, and must be
consistent in all its parts. We seem unable to say that in his writings he
attained to this consistency, but at least he worked steadily towards it. The
effort for consistency led him in the direction of monistic principle, though
his points of departure both in physics and in ethics are dualistic. But the
teaching of Zeno does not lend itself to that kind of study which assigns all
new facts to compartments of thought ready labelled in advance, nor can it
be summarized by any of the technical terms which are in use in modern
philosophical thought. Enough has perhaps been said to shew that, great as
was the debt of Zeno to his predecessors, he was no mere imitator or
plagiarist; the history of the following centuries will shew that he had in
some sense touched the pulses of human life more truly than any of his
contemporaries.

FOOTNOTES
[1] Thucydides, passim.
[2] Mahaffy, Greek Life and Thought, ch. 1.
[3] ‘Plato combined the various elements, the, so to speak, prismatically
broken rays of the Socratic spirit in a new, higher, and richer unity’ Ueberweg,
Eng. transl. i p. 89.
[4] ‘The philosophy of Greece reached its highest point in Plato and Aristotle’
Zeller, Stoics etc., p. 11. ‘The bloom of Greek philosophy was short lived’ ib. p.
10.
[5] The phrases ‘cum Platone errare,’ ‘amicus Plato, magis amica veritas’
agree in expressing the general incredulity with which Platonism was received in
the ancient world. In our own days an ill-balanced sympathy for Platonic dogma
is often a serious hindrance to philosophic progress.
[6] See further, § 284.
[7] See below, § 179.
[8] Aristotle, Physics, ii 7.
[9] See below, § 173.
[10] εἰ δ’ ἐν ζῴῳ τοῦτο δυνατὸν γενέσθαι, τί κωλύει τὸ αὐτὸ συμβῆναι καὶ
κατὰ τὸ πᾶν; εἰ γὰρ ἐν μικρῷ κόσμῳ γίνεται, καὶ ἐν μεγάλῳ Ar. Phys. viii 2, 252
b.
[11] See Ueberweg’s note, i (Eng. trans., pp. 178-180; tenth German edition,
pp. 238-240), and below, § 362.
[12] ‘vitae autem degendae ratio maxime quidem illis [Peripateticis] placuit
quieta, in contemplatione et cognitione posita rerum; quae quia deorum erat
vitae simillima, sapiente visa est dignissima’ Cic. Fin. v 4, 11.
[13] See note 15, below.
[14] Clem. Strom. ii p. 419 a.
[15] ‘honeste autem vivere, fruentem rebus eis, quas primas homini natura
conciliet, et vetus Academia censuit (ut indicant scripta Polemonis), et
Aristoteles eiusque amici huc proxime videntur accedere’ Cic. Ac. ii 42, 131.
Here Prof. J. S. Reid suggests that Polemo may merely have used the phrase
κατὰ φύσιν ζῆν, as opposed to κατὰ θέσιν (conventionally).
[16] ‘quem [sc. Arcesilan] ferunt ... primum instituisse, non quid ipse sentiret
ostendere, sed contra id, quod quisque se sentire dixisset, disputare’ Cic. de Or.
iii 18, 67. ‘Arcesilas negabat esse quidquam quod sciri posset, ne illud quidem
ipsum, quod Socrates sibi reliquisset’ Ac. i 12, 45.
[17] ‘[cuius] ratio probabilis possit reddi’ Cic. Fin. iii 17, 58. See further
below, §§ 105, 332.
[18] See especially §§ 113 and 123.

[19] Cic. Fin. iv 28, 79.
[20] ‘non dolere ... Hieronymus summum bonum esse dixit’ ib. v 25, 73.
[21] ‘at vero Callipho, et post eum Diodorus, cum alter voluptatem
adamavisset, alter vacuitatem doloris: neuter honestate carere potuit, quae est a
nostris laudata maxime’ ib.
[22] ib. 25, 75.
[23] Off. i 1, 1.
[24] ‘[Stoici] quidem non unam aliquam aut alteram a nobis, sed totam ad se
nostram philosophiam transtulerunt. atque, ut reliqui fures, earum rerum, quas
ceperunt, signa commutant, sic illi, ut sententiis nostris pro suis uterentur,
nomina, tanquam rerum notas, mutaverunt’ Fin. v 25, 74.
[25] Ζήνωνα τὸν Φοίνικα, Athen. Deipnos. xiii 2; ‘tuus ille Poenulus,’ ‘e
Phoenicia profecti’ Cic. Fin. iv 20, 56.
[26] Diog. L. vii 31 and 32.
[27] ‘nuntiato naufragio Zeno noster, cum omnia sua audiret submersa: iubet,
inquit, me fortuna expeditius philosophari’ Sen. Dial. ix 14, 3.
[28] Diog. L. vii 3.
[29] Diog. L. vi 96 and 97.
[30] ib. vii 4.
[31] ἀντέγραψε πρὸς τὴν Πλάτωνος Πολιτείαν Plut. Sto. rep. 8, 2 (Arnim i
260).
[32] This doctrine can be traced back to Diogenes and even to Socrates: see
below, § 303.
[33] τὰς πόλεις κοσμεῖν οὐκ ἀναθήμασιν, ἀλλὰ ταῖς τῶν οἰκούντων ἀρεταῖς
Stob. iv 1, 88.
[34] See below, § 305.
[35] παριστάντα πολίτας τοὺς σπουδαίους μόνον Diog. L. vii 33.
[36] See below, § 318.
[37] § 306.
[38] § 307.
[39] §§ 296, 297.
[40] § 304.
[41] § 315.
[42] See above, § 56.
[43] He said ‘O Crates, the best handle of philosophers is that by the ear;
persuade me if you can, and lead me that way; if you use violence, my body will
stay with you, but my soul will be with Stilpo’ Diog. L. vii 24.
[44] ‘errorem autem et temeritatem et ignorantiam et opinationem et
suspicionem et uno nomine omnia, quae essent aliena firmae et constantis

adsensionis, a virtute sapientiaque [Zeno] removebat’ Cic. Ac. i 11, 42.
[45] ‘hoc quidem Zeno gestu conficiebat. nam cum extensis digitis adversam
manum ostenderat, ‘visum,’ inquiebat, ‘huiusmodi est.’ deinde cum paulum
digitos contraxerat, ‘adsensus huiusmodi.’ tum cum plane compresserat
pugnumque fecerat, comprehensionem illam esse dicebat; cum autem laevam
manum admoverat et illum pugnum arte vehementerque compresserat, scientiam
talem esse dicebat: cuius compotem nisi sapientem esse neminem’ Cic. Ac. ii 47,
145.
[46] See below, § 188.
[47] So the Megarians were commonly called on account of their disputatious
methods.
[48] As for instance Arcesilaus; Ἀρκεσίλαος ὁ ἐκ τῆς Ἀκαδημίας, Ζήνωνος
τοῦ Κιτιέως συσχολαστὴς παρὰ Πολέμωνι Strabo xiii p. 614 (Arnim i 10).
[49] Diog. L. iv 18.
[50] ib. 20.
[51] ib.
[52] Diog. L. vii 25.
[53] See below, § 189.
[54] See § 268, note 2.
[55] οἵ γε ἀπὸ Χρυσίππου καὶ Ζήνωνος φιλόσοφοι καὶ πάντες ὅσοι σῶμα τὴν
ψυχὴν νοοῦσι Iamb. de an. (Stob. i 49, 33).
[56] Ζήνων ὁ Στωϊκὸς ὀκταμερῆ φησιν εἶναι τὴν ψυχήν Nemes. nat. hom. p.
96 (Arnim i 143).
[57] οἱ ἀπὸ Ζήνωνος ὀκταμερῆ τὴν ψυχὴν διαδοξάζουσι, περὶ [ἣν] τὰς
δυνάμεις εἶναι πλείονας, ὥσπερ ἐν τῷ ἡγεμονίκῳ ἐνυπαρχουσῶν φαντασίας
συγκαταθέσεως ὁρμῆς λόγου Iamb. de an. (Arnim i 143). See below, § 270.
[58] τῶν προειρημένων ἤκουσεν ἕως ἐτῶν εἴκοσιν· ἵνα καί φασιν αὐτὸν
εἰπεῖν· νῦν εὐπλόηκα, ὅτε νεναυάγηκα Diog. L. vii 4. It must not however be
assumed that Zeno himself used the phrase in this sense: see the other references
in Arnim i 277.
[59] ‘iam Polemonem audiverant adsidue Zeno et Arcesilas. Sed Zeno cum
Arcesilam anteiret aetate, valdeque subtiliter dissereret et peracute moveretur,
corrigere conatus est disciplinam’ Cic. Ac. i 9, 34 and 35.
[60] ἐπεὶ συμφοιτῶντες παρὰ Πολέμωνι ἐφιλοτιμήθησαν ἀλλήλοις,
συμπαρέλαβον εἰς τὴν πρὸς ἀλλήλους μάχην ὁ μὲν Ἡράκλειτον καὶ Στίλπωνα
ἅμα καὶ Κράτητα Euseb. Praep. ev. xiv 5, 11 (quoting Numenius) (Arnim i 11).
[61] Zeno often calls it aether: ‘Zenon ... aethera ... interim vult omnium esse
principium’ Min. Felix xix p. 58: Cleanthes calls it spirit, see below, § 100. ‘The
fire of Heraclitus becomes aether or πῦρ τεχνικόν—for this distinction is
unknown to the Ephesian—and is thereby spiritualised and rarefied’ Pearson,
Fragments, Intr. pp. 22, 23.
[62] See below, § 196.

[63] See above, § 39.
[64] Stein, Psychologie, i 62 sqq.
[65] Χρύσιππος καὶ Ζήνων ὑπέθεντο καὶ αὐτοὶ ἀρχὴν μὲν θεὸν τῶν πάντων,
σῶμα ὄντα τὸ καθαρώτατον Hippolyt. Philos. 21, 1 (Arnim i 153).
[66] ‘rationem quandam per naturam omnem rerum pertinentem vi divina esse
affectam putat’ Cic. N. D. i 14, 36.
[67] ‘Zeno [deum nuncupat] naturalem divinamque legem’ Lact. Div. inst. i 5,
20.
[68] ἄλλοι δέ τινες τῶν ἀρχαιοτέρων Στωϊκῶν τὸν ὀρθὸν λόγον κριτήριον
ἀπολείπουσιν, ὡς ὁ Ποσειδώνιος ἐν τῷ περὶ κριτηρίου φησί Diog. L. vii 54
(quoting Diocles Magnes). It is much disputed who the authorities are to which
Posidonius here refers.
[69] ‘Zeno naturalem legem divinam esse censet eamque vim obtinere recta
imperantem prohibentemque contraria’ Cic. N. D. i 14, 36.
[70] τὸ δὲ τέλος ὁ μὲν Ζήνων οὕτως ἀπέδωκε, τὸ ὁμολογουμένως ζῆν· τοῦτο
δ’ ἐστὶ καθ’ ἕνα λόγον καὶ σύμφωνον ζῆν, ὡς τῶν μαχομένως ζώντων
κακοδαιμονούντων Stob. ii 7, 6 a. ‘summum bonum, quod cum positum sit in
eo, quod ὁμολογίαν Stoici, nos appellemus convenientiam’ Cic. Fin. iii 6, 21.
[71] εὐδαιμονία δ’ ἐστὶν εὔροια βίου Stob. ii 7, 6 e.
[72] See note 70 above.
[73] See below, § 322.
[74] For a fuller treatment see below, §§ 319-321.
[75] οὐχὶ καὶ Ζήνων τούτοις (sc. Peripateticis) ἠκολούθησεν ὑποτιθέμενοις
στοιχεῖα τῆς εὐδαιμονίας τὴν φύσιν καὶ τὸ κατὰ φύσιν; Plut. comm. not. 23, 1;
‘[a Polemone] quae essent principia naturae acceperat’ Cic. Fin. iv 16, 45.
[76] τὰ μὲν [οὖν] πολλὴν ἔχοντα ἀξίαν προηγμένα λέγεσθαι, τὰ δὲ πολλὴν
ἀπαξίαν ἀποπροηγμένα, Ζήνωνος ταύτας τὰς ὀνομασίας θεμένου πρώτου τοῖς
πράγμασι Stob. ii 7, 7 g; see also below, § 320.
[77] Diogenes Laertius says distinctly that Zeno used the phrase, and names
the book in which he found it; Diog. L. vii 87. On the other hand Stobaeus (ii 7,
6 a) attributes it to Cleanthes.
[78] ‘Zeno Citieus, advena quidam et ignobilis verborum opifex’ Cic. Tusc. v
12, 34.
[79] See below, § 165.
[80] ‘illa vetus Zenonis brevis, et ut tibi videbatur, acuta conclusio’ Cic. N. D.
iii 9, 22.
[81] τὸ λογικὸν τοῦ μὴ λογικοῦ κρεῖττόν ἐστιν· οὐδὲν δέ γε κόσμου κρεῖττόν
ἐστιν· λογικὸν ἄρα ὁ κόσμος Sext. math. ix 104 (Arnim i 111); see also below, §
202.
[82] ‘ebrio secretum sermonem nemo committit; viro autem bono committit;
ergo vir bonus ebrius non erit’ Sen. Ep. 83, 9; for the original see Arnim i 229.

[83] ‘nullum malum gloriosum est; mors autem gloriosa est; mors ergo non
est malum’ Sen. Ep. 82, 9.
[84] ‘If you would know, read Zeno’s writings, and you will see’ Epict. Disc. i
20, 14.
[85] ‘cum Zenone, ut accepimus, Arcesilas sibi omne certamen instituit’ Cic.
Ac. i 12, 44.
[86] ‘Arcesilas primum ... ex variis Platonis libris sermonibusque Socraticis
hoc maxime arripuit, nihil esse certi quod aut sensibus aut animo percipi possit’
Cic. de Or. iii 18, 67.
[87] ‘hic Zenonem vidisse acute, nullum esse visum quod percipi posset, si id
tale esset ab eo, quod est, ut eiusdem modi ab eo, quod non est, posset esse. recte
consensit Arcesilas; ad definitionem additum [sc. quale non possit esse a falso].
incubuit autem in eas disputationes, ut doceret nullum tale esse visum a vero, ut
non eiusdem modi etiam a falso posset esse’ Cic. Ac. ii 24, 77.
[88] See below, § 157.
[89] ‘compositus sequor Zenona Cleanthen Chrysippum, quorum tamen nemo
ad rempublicam accessit, et nemo non misit’ Sen. Dial. ix 1, 10; see also viii 6,
4.
[90] Pearson, Introd. p. 1.
[91] προσεμαρτύρησ[εν ἑαυτῷ] τὴν εὕρεσιν τῆς ἀληθείας Sext. math. vii 321.
Pearson, Introd. p. 4.
[92] Diog. L. vii 10 and 11.

CHAPTER IV.
THE PREACHING OF STOICISM.

The companions of 88. During the later years of his life Zeno gathered
Zeno. round him a number of men of practical and speculative
capacity, not unworthy of comparison with the
companions of Socrates. His death dissolved the immediate tie between
them. Some took an active part in the work of government; others followed
their teacher’s example, and became the founders of independent schools of
thought; a few devoted themselves to strengthening and extending Zeno’s
system; and many were doubtless engaged in useful employment of which
no record has reached us. Zeno’s work had not yet been exposed to the test
of time, and another century was to pass before it could be seen that the
Stoic school was to be of permanent importance. Towards the schools of the
Cynics, the Megarians, and the Academics, from which its principles were
so largely derived, the attitude of the hearers of Zeno was that of a friendly
interchange of opinions, in which sharp controversy stopped short of
enmity; the followers of Aristotle (the Peripatetics) continued to be but
slightly distinguished from the Academics. But all these schools appear to
have united in opposition to the Cyrenaics and Epicureans; the champions
of virtue could hold no communings with the advocates of pleasure.
Individual teachers who practically reverted to Cynic or Academic teaching
still called themselves Stoics: but the only one of Zeno’s hearers who
adopted Cyrenaic views was contemptuously branded as ‘the deserter[1].’
Persaeus. 89. The most intimate companion[2] of Zeno was
Persaeus of Citium (circ. 300-243 b.c.). He was the
fellow-townsman of Zeno, and, as good authorities assert, at first his
personal servant (οἰκέτης)[3] and afterwards his fellow-lodger. On the
recommendation of Zeno he took service, together with Aratus the poet,
with Antigonus Gonatas, king of Macedonia[4]. Here he was often twitted as
to the Stoic paradoxes. King Antigonus sent him messengers announcing
the loss of his wife, child, and property, and found that he was not entirely
indifferent to external circumstances[5]. He adapted himself easily to court

life, and is said to have written a treatise on the theory of the banquet, in
which he did not rise above the moral standard of his neighbours[6]. Nor did
he disdain to hoax Aristo of Chius, who held strongly to the paradox that
‘the wise man never opines’; he first sent him money by one of two twins,
and then sent another to demand it back[7]. Another Socratic paradox, that
‘the wise man is sure to be a good general,’ he endeavoured to maintain by
his personal example[8]. Antigonus placed him in command of the acropolis
at Corinth, which was nevertheless taken by Aratus of Sicyon in 243 b.c.
According to one account, Persaeus was wounded in the attack, and
afterwards put to death by the conqueror[9]; others relate that he escaped to
Cenchreae[10]. As a philosopher he is of little importance; but Cicero
mentions that he not only maintained that amongst the gods were men
raised to the sky for their services to mankind (which was an accepted Stoic
doctrine), but also that objects useful to man had been deified[11].
Aratus. 90. Two other companions of Zeno also took service
under Antigonus, apparently at the same time. Of these
Philonides of Thebes[12] is otherwise unknown to us. The other was Aratus
of Soli in Cilicia, author of the well-known poem The Phaenomena, an
astronomical treatise afterwards translated into Latin by Cicero, and largely
used by Virgil in his Georgics. The poems of Aratus had a wide influence,
and were probably the source from which so many Stoic conceptions
reached Virgil. The most interesting part for us is the Introduction, in which
he interprets Zeus in Stoic fashion as the deity who dwells in sea and land,
in markets and streets: whose family is mankind; and whose providence has
set the stars in the heaven to regulate the seasons of the year and to be a
guide to the farmer and the sailor[13]. The spirit of this poem is closely akin
to that of the hymn of Cleanthes.
Sphaerus. 91. Still another hearer of Zeno took a prominent part
in political life. Sphaerus from the Bosphorus (circ. 250
b.c.) was attracted to Cleomenes III, king of Sparta, who under his
influence reintroduced the laws of Lycurgus in his city, and particularly
those which referred to the education of the youth and the taking of meals
in common[14]. With these he combined the plan of a monarchy after the
Stoic model, in which the sovereign was to side with the poor against the
rich[15]. But in 221 b.c. Cleomenes suffered a crushing defeat, and was

compelled to take refuge with Ptolemy III (Euergetes), king of Egypt.
Sphaerus found his way to the same court. The death of Ptolemy III left
Cleomenes in the position of a disregarded suppliant[16]; but Sphaerus
appears to have found a congenial home in Alexandria, now the centre of
Hellenistic learning, and doubtless introduced the Stoic philosophy in the
circle that gathered round the Museum[17]. He gained a special reputation
by the excellence of his definitions[18]. From an anecdote related of him we
must infer that whilst adhering to Zeno’s doctrine that the wise man will not
opine, he accepted reasonable assurance (τὸ εὔλογον) as a sufficient guide
in daily life[19]. He appears to have laid special stress upon the unity of
virtue, maintaining that the separate virtues are but appearances of virtue or
knowledge in different spheres of action[20].
Herillus. 92. Herillus of Carthage (circ. 250 b.c.) is frequently
referred to by Cicero as teaching doctrines hardly
distinguishable from those of the Academy, in that he made knowledge the
highest good[21], and taught that separate from it, yet with claims of their
own, there existed inferior ends of action (ὑποτελίδες)[22]. It does not,
however, appear clearly that he differed much from Zeno. Sphaerus, as we
have seen, had defined the virtues as being ‘knowledge displayed in
different spheres of action,’ and the aim of Herillus, ‘to live according to the
standard of life accompanied by knowledge[23],’ points in the direction of
practical rather than of speculative wisdom. His ‘subordinate aims’ appear
also to correspond with Zeno’s ‘things of high degree’ (προηγμένα), and are
defined as being the first states to which an animal is attracted upon birth,
as food, life, strength (πρῶτα κατὰ φύσιν)[24]; they serve only for ‘ends’
(τέλη) for men who have not yet attained to wisdom[25]. This doctrine
corresponds closely to the Stoic doctrine as developed somewhat later[26].
Aristo. 93. Aristo of Chios (circ. 250 b.c.) departed more
decidedly from Zeno’s teaching, falling back generally
on Cynic views. He was no favourite of Zeno, who called him a
chatterbox[27]: and in later life he was accused of becoming a flatterer of
Persaeus when the latter was in power[28], and of luxury in his personal
habits[29]. But his success as a teacher was great, and he formed a body of
followers who called themselves Aristonians.

He appears to have supported Zeno vigorously as to the doctrine of
‘comprehension’; and if on this subject he was worsted for the moment by
Persaeus[30], he retaliated on some Academic by asking: ‘do you see who is
sitting next you?’ The Academic replied ‘I do not.’ ‘Are you blind, then,’
said Aristo; ‘where are your eyes[31]?’ Still he considered any systematic
study of dialectics to be a mere waste of time; like spiders’ webs, which
seem to display much skill, but are of no use[32]. With regard to physics he
was openly agnostic[33]; of the nature of the gods he thought we could know
nothing, not even whether the deity were animate or no[34]. Ethics alone
remained; but this part of philosophy he reduced by omitting all practical
precepts, as introducing the element of uncertainty[35]. In ethics proper he
rejects the theory of ‘things of high degree’ (προηγμένα), observing that this
term does not harmonize with the treatment of advantages as ‘indifferent,’
but comes dangerously near to calling them ‘good[36].’ Virtue, or rather
knowledge, is, as he maintains, the only good; and all that lies between
good and evil is alike indifferent[37]. The highest good may therefore be
defined as a state of indifference (ἀδιαφορία) towards all such things[38].
Aristo was however once more in agreement with Stoic doctrine when he
maintained the unity of virtue. ‘The soul,’ he said, ‘has one power only, that
of reasoning; one virtue only, the knowledge of good and evil. When we
need to choose the good and avoid the evil, we call this knowledge
Soberness; when we need to do good and not evil, we call it Wisdom;
Courage, when it is bold and cautious at the right moments; and when it
gives every man his due, Justice[39].’ But in deciding his action the wise
man will be bound by no theories: he can do whatever comes into his head,
provided only he keep himself free from distress, fear and greed[40].
The popularity of these views was repressed by the activity of
Chrysippus; in Cicero’s time they were, in cultivated society, extinct[41].
But from the numerous references to Aristo in literature it is clear that his
teaching was by no means forgotten; and when there took place the revival
of the Cynic tone which we see illustrated in the writings of Epictetus and
M. Aurelius, Aristo is again treated with high respect[42].
Eratosthenes. 94. An eminent pupil of Aristo was Eratosthenes of
Cyrene, the grammarian, whom he won over from the

Cyrenaic school. Eratosthenes undoubtedly represented the spirit of his
teacher and of the Cynic school towards which he inclined, when he
vehemently repudiated the prejudice which then divided mankind into
Hellenes and barbarians[43]. He was invited by Ptolemy III (Euergetes) to be
chief librarian of the Museum at Alexandria, and tutor to the crown-prince,
and has left us an epigram in honour of this great patron of learning and
philosophy[44]. Amongst other followers of Aristo we hear specially of
Apollophanes of Antiochia[45].
Dionysius. 95. Alone amongst the hearers of Zeno Dionysius of
Heraclea abandoned his principles, and went over from
the camp of virtue to that of pleasure. A painful disease of the eyes had
made him abandon the doctrine that ‘pain is no evil[46].’ His secession was
used by Antiochus as an argument against the doctrine of comprehension or
certain knowledge[47]. That his life after he became a Cyrenaic was openly
scandalous[48] we need not too readily believe: such accusations may easily
be mere deductions from his supposed philosophic principles. Dionysius
appears to have been a particular friend and admirer of the poet Aratus[49].
Of the less important hearers of Zeno we have the names of, amongst
others, Athenodorus of Soli[50], Callippus of Corinth[50], Posidonius of
Alexandria[50], and Zeno of Sidon[50]. The last, if he existed, must be kept
distinct from other Zenos, such as Zeno of Tarsus the pupil of Chrysippus,
and Zeno of Sidon the Epicurean philosopher.
Cleanthes. 96. We come last amongst Zeno’s hearers to
Cleanthes of Assos in Asia Minor (331-232 b.c.), who
succeeded Zeno as head of the school when already advanced in years, and
presided over it for a whole generation. In personal character he was a
worthy successor of Socrates, Diogenes, and Zeno. He was trained in
hardship and willing endurance[51]; and if he did not quickly understand, yet
all he learnt was deeply impressed upon him[52]. He studied Zeno’s life
even more attentively than his doctrines; lived with him, watched his hours
of retirement, inquired whether his actions corresponded to his teaching[53].
Himself a man of the people, he ardently desired to spread his convictions
amongst the many, and chose verse as the best means to express clearly his
meaning and win access to men’s ears[54]. He remained constant to Zeno’s

teaching[55], but he inspired it with a fresh enthusiasm and developed it in
more consistent detail. He is before all things the theologian of Stoicism.
The belief in the deity, which in the fragments of Zeno’s teaching appears
merely formal and argumentative, becomes in the verse of Cleanthes ardent
and dominating. God is the creator and the director of the world; his Logos
gives it order and harmony. In God’s designs it is the privilege and duty of
man to cooperate; but since he is possessed of free will, it is also within his
power to make a futile opposition. In this way the good and the bad stand in
definite contrast. Finally, right knowledge and right action are only possible
by association with the deity through praise and prayer.
His poetry. 97. It is our good fortune to possess several complete
poems of Cleanthes, which are of more value to us
towards appreciating his standpoint than a hundred detached sentences
would be. The hymn to Zeus[56] is the most important, and its likeness to the
opening of Aratus’ Phaenomena[57] will not escape notice.

Hymn to Zeus.

Supreme of gods, by titles manifold
Invoked, o thou who over all dost hold
Eternal dominance, Nature’s author, Zeus,
Guiding a universe by Law controlled; 2

Hail! for ’tis meet that men should call on thee
Whose seed we are; and ours the destiny
Alone of all that lives and moves on earth,
A mirror of thy deity[58] to be. 5

Therefore I hymn thee and thy power I praise;
For at thy word, on their appointed ways
The orbs of heaven in circuit round the earth
Move, and submissive each thy rule obeys, 8

Who holdest in thy hands invincible
So dread a minister to work thy will—
The eternal bolt of fire, two-edged, whose blast
Thro’ all the powers of nature strikes a chill[59]— 11

Whereby thou guid’st the universal force,
Reason, through all things interfused, whose course
Commingles with the great and lesser[60] lights—
Thyself of all the sovran and the source: 14

For nought is done on earth apart from thee,
Nor in thy vault of heaven, nor in the sea;
Save for the reckless deeds of sinful men
Whose own hearts lead them to perversity. 17

But skill to make the crookèd straight is thine,
To turn disorder to a fair design;
Ungracious things are gracious in thy sight,
For ill and good thy power doth so combine 20

That out of all appears in unity

That out of all appears in unity
Eternal Reason, which the wicked flee
And disregard, who long for happiness,
Yet God’s great Law can neither hear nor see; 24

Ill-fated folk! for would they but obey
With understanding heart, from day to day
Their life were full of blessing, but they turn
Each to his sin, by folly led astray. 26

Glory would some thro’ bitter strife attain
And some are eager after lawless gain;
Some lust for sensual delights, but each
Finds that too soon his pleasure turns to pain. 31

But, Zeus all-bountiful! the thunder-flame
And the dark cloud thy majesty proclaim:
From ignorance deliver us, that leads
The sons of men to sorrow and to shame. 33

Wherefore dispel it, Father, from the soul
And grant that Wisdom may our life control,
Wisdom which teaches thee to guide the world
Upon the path of justice to its goal. 35

So winning honour thee shall we requite
With honour, lauding still thy works of might;
Since gods nor men find worthier meed than this—
The universal Law to praise aright. 39

Translated by W. H. Porter.

98. Another short poem of Cleanthes identifies Zeus with fate, and points
the same moral as to human duty:

Lead me, O Zeus, and lead me, Destiny,
What way soe’er ye have appointed me!
I follow unafraid: yea, though the will
Turn recreant, I needs must follow still[61].

In other poems characteristic Stoic doctrines are set forth with clearness
and emphasis:

‘Look not at common opinion, and be not eager to be wise
of a sudden; fear not the chatter of the many, in which there
is no judgment and no modesty; for the crowd does not

possess shrewd just and fair judgment, but amongst the few
you may perchance find this[62].’
‘Do you ask me of what kind the good is? Listen then. It
is orderly, just, innocent, pious, self-controlled, useful, fair,
necessary, severe, upright, always of advantage; fearless,
painless, profitable, without smart; helpful, pleasing, sure,
friendly, honourable, consistent; noble, not puffed up,
painstaking, comforting, full of energy, biding its time,
blameless, unchanging[63].’
‘He who abstains from some disgraceful action yet all the
while has desire for it, will some day do it, when he gets
opportunity[64].’

In the last of the passages we are introduced to an ethical paradox of the
highest importance to Stoicism: that good and evil are set in the will and the
intention, and are not dependent upon the action[65].
Originality of 99. To the ancients Cleanthes was the faithful disciple
Cleanthes. of Zeno. Persaeus, Aratus, and others had turned aside
from the direct pursuit of philosophy, and their contact
with science and politics might easily sully the purity of their philosophic
creed. Herillus had adopted Academic doctrine, Aristo had fallen back into
Cynism, Dionysius had actually seceded to the party of pleasure. It might
seem that the far-reaching sweep of Zeno’s intellect had no real hold on his
companions. But Cleanthes at least stood firm by the old landmarks. We
must not suppose from this that he was a man of no originality[66]; his
language and his style at least are his own. Nor on the other hand can we go
all the way with some recent writers, who attribute to him exclusively large
parts of the Stoic system[67]. Our authorities commonly refer either to Zeno
alone, or to Zeno, Cleanthes, and Chrysippus jointly, as vouching for
accepted Stoic doctrine; and we are hardly entitled to lay great stress on the
comparatively few fragments of which the authorship is assigned
exclusively to Cleanthes, as evidence for the independence of his teaching;
especially as we can in many instances see that our authorities delight in
attributing a difference of meaning to the Stoic masters, when in reality
there is nothing more to be found than a difference of phrasing[68]. It is

however clear that Stoicism did not assume its complete form in the hands
of its first propagator; and to a limited extent we can see the directions in
which his teaching was amplified by his successors.
Physics of 100. Cleanthes took a special interest in the physical
Cleanthes. speculations of Heraclitus, on whose writings he
composed four books[69], and in particular in the bearing
of his speculations upon the nature of the deity. The belief in the dualism of
God and matter, of the Word and the world, is attributed to Cleanthes as
distinctly as to Zeno[70]; but on the other hand the conception of an
overruling unity is much more pronounced in the later writer[71]. Hence
from the first Cleanthes endeavours to give a wider meaning to the primary
fire of Heraclitus, the creative fire of Zeno. For this fire he proposed the
new term ‘flame’ (φλόξ)[72]; at other times he identified it with the sky[73],
with the sun[74], and with the principle of heat[75]; and finally adopted the
term ‘spirit’ (πνεῦμα, spiritus), which has ever since held its place in the
discussion of natural theology. This term appears to have been at first
intended to combine the conceptions of the creative fire and of the
Logos[76], but it gradually came to have distinctive associations of its own.
Like fire, ‘spirit’ is to the Stoics a substance, stuff, or body akin to the
element of air, but associated with warmth and elasticity; it is conceived as
immanent in the universe and penetrating it as the deity; immanent in the
human body and penetrating it as the soul[77]. The elasticity of spirit is
measured by its ‘tension’ (τόνος, intentio), by means of which its creative
power pushes forward from the centre to the circumference: as for instance
in the human body walking is effected by ‘spirit exercising tension towards
the feet[78].’ The theory of ‘tension’ has an immediate application to ethics.
When the soul has sufficient tension to perform its proper work, it operates
according to the virtues of Wisdom, Justice, Courage, and Soberness; but
when the tension is relaxed, the soul becomes disordered and is seized upon
by the emotions[79].
Theology of 101. To Cleanthes also it fell to explain more fully the
Cleanthes. government both of the universe and of the individual.
Zeno indeed is said to have used the term ἡγεμονικόν
(principale, principatus)[80], which we may translate by ‘ruling power,’ or
shortly (following the Latin) by ‘principate[81],’ for the highest power of the

human soul; Cleanthes sought a similar principle in the universe also, and is
said to have found it in the sun[82]. By thus using the term in a double sense
he implies the analogy which is expressed by the correlative terms
‘macrocosm’ and ‘microcosm,’ and which leads up to the definition of God
as the ‘soul of the universe[83].’ Cleanthes further speaks of the universe
itself as god[84]; but before describing him as a pantheist it is well to
consider that this is only one form out of many in which he expresses his
creed. He was also the first to give the four proofs of the existence of the
deity upon which all discussions of the ‘evidences of Natural Religion’ have
been based down to the present day, and which we shall further discuss in a
later chapter[85].
The pious zeal of Cleanthes was not without a touch of bigotry, destined
to have serious consequences in the final developments of Stoicism, and to
reappear in the history of the middle ages with distressing intensity; he was
bitterly opposed to the novel heliocentric theory of the universe as an
impiety[86].
Weakness of 102. Thus even though we can no longer discriminate
Stoicism. sharply between the teaching of Zeno and that of
Cleanthes, we have every reason to suppose that the
latter was possessed of originality of thought and vigour and copiousness of
expression. We cannot easily believe that a man of such powers failed to
attract hearers or to retain a hold upon them. But in his extreme old age it
seems that the majority were drawn aside either to the ingenious arguments
of Arcesilaus the Academic, or to the more independent teaching of Aristo
of Chios. The continued existence of Stoicism seemed threatened; its critics
were not to be contented with rhetoric or poetry, but insistently demanded
proofs. In this crisis it was saved and established by a younger man,
Chrysippus of Soli (280-206 b.c.), who was far inferior in original power,
but equally zealous and more in harmony with the tastes and demands of
the younger generation.
Chrysippus. 103. Chrysippus was a fellow-townsman of Aratus of
Soli, and his appearance is doubtless a sign of the active
interest in philosophy which for some centuries marks the neighbourhood
of the important town of Tarsus. Born in 280 b.c. he found in his early
manhood three prominent teachers at Athens, Arcesilaus, Aristo, and

Cleanthes. Of these Aristo seems to have been the most popular, and
surprise was expressed that Chrysippus did not join his school. ‘Had I
followed the many,’ he replied, ‘I should not have become a
philosopher[87].’ His convictions drew him to Cleanthes, but he felt much
impatience with his methods. This state of mind he must have expressed
freely, for in after life he reproached himself that he had not behaved more
kindly towards his teacher in his old age[88]. Confident in his own powers,
he desired to relieve Cleanthes of the burden of replying to the many attacks
made upon his doctrines, especially as to dialectics[89]. It is well known that
he asked his master to supply him with his dogmas only, saying that he
himself would find the proofs[90]. Chrysippus probably outlived his
opponents, and during the time when he was head of the school (232-206
b.c.) only found himself opposed by men of mediocre talents. He devoted
his whole energies to strengthening and systematizing Stoic doctrine. He
not only gave its proofs, but used every art of the dialectician to recommend
it to his hearers[91]. From his facile pen there poured an endless stream of
writings, not remarkable either for originality or for style, but of the highest
importance as fixing definitely the standard of Stoic orthodoxy. He gathered
numerous hearers round him, and before his death it could truly be said that
he had saved the Stoa[92].
Dialectic of 104. In his method of exposition Chrysippus made
Chrysippus. great use of the syllogism, thus reverting to the practice
of Zeno as opposed to the more poetical style of
Cleanthes. As to the value of this syllogistic reasoning very contrary
opinions were expressed in antiquity. By his contemporaries he was greatly
admired, so that it was said that ‘if the gods had needed a dialectic, they
would have taken that of Chrysippus[93].’ On the other hand members of his
own school complained that he often stated his opponents’ case more
forcibly than his own[94]. The Romans mix their praise with censure, and
find that he sometimes entangles himself in the threads of his own
argument[95]; and we ourselves cannot fail to notice that when his major and
minor premisses are compared, the meaning of the common term has
usually shifted[96]. But if Chrysippus did not provide a final solution to
great problems, he at least adapted the Stoic system to the taste of his age,

alike by his use of syllogisms and by the attention he paid to the solution of
fallacies[97].
Opposition of the 105. Whilst the works of Chrysippus cover the whole
Academy. range of the Stoic philosophy, their special colour is
largely due to the interests of his own time. The stress
laid by Zeno on the certainty of knowledge had produced a reaction in the
Academic school. Arcesilaus, who had succeeded Polemo as its leader,
leaving on one side the positive teaching of Plato’s later years, reverted to
the sceptical attitude which had been one characteristic of Socrates, and
which is so prominent in most of the Platonic dialogues[98]. He attacked
with the utmost vigour Zeno’s doctrine of ‘comprehension’; and further
argued that certain knowledge is unnecessary for practical life, of which
probability, that is, such action as can find reasonable justification, is the
sufficient guide[99]. Chrysippus defended with the utmost energy the dogma
of the certainty of knowledge, based upon the perspicuity of true mind
pictures[100]; but the teaching of Arcesilaus obtained a hold upon him, and
(as we shall see) was ultimately allowed by him a place within the Stoic
system.
Spread of 106. Chrysippus meanwhile had a more dangerous
Epicureanism. enemy to meet than the Academy. During the weakness
which befel the Stoic school in the middle of the third
century b.c., the rival school of Epicurus had won an enormous popularity.
Yet its ethical standard, which it had inherited from the Cyrenaics, offended
not only the followers of Zeno but all sober-minded philosophers. For
Epicurus had set up Pleasure as the queen of life, and had converted the
virtues into her handmaidens[101]; and so far was he from taking interest in
model states, that he advised his hearers to hold aloof altogether from
public life. Worst of all, his followers only smiled at the reproofs that were
showered upon them. They formed among themselves a cheerful,
affectionate, and united society; their simple pleasures created no public
scandal, though their entertainments were often enlivened by tales of the
moral lapses of their self-righteous rivals. The bracing morality of Cynism
seemed to be quite gone out of fashion, and even the Aristonians had ceased
to exist.

Alliance of the 107. Under these circumstances the remaining schools
three schools. began to look one to another for support, and were even
brought into a kind of alliance. The adherents of the
Academy and the Porch, in particular, began to meet in friendly discussion,
and sometimes defined anew their doctrines so as to minimize points of
difference, sometimes directly modified them by way of concession to
opposed arguments. This process resulted in a toning down of Stoicism in
every part of its system. The Stoic teachers began to disregard or push into
the background those characteristic doctrines which had been embodied in
the Socratic paradoxes and enforced by the Cynic propaganda. Thus their
teaching gave less offence to the lax crowd, and at the same time (it must be
admitted) less support to the striving few; but its tone was now so modest
that men of gentle and judicious temperament were attracted to Stoicism for
the first time. Stoicism began now to shew itself receptive of literary
influences, especially as regards the works of Plato and Aristotle, and even
appreciative of artistic ideals. Such was the tendency of the system during
both the second and the first centuries b.c.; but it is more difficult to
estimate the extent of the deviation. Terms like εὐκρασία ‘well proportioned
mixture[102],’ εὔροια ‘even flow[103],’ εὐτονία ‘due tone[104],’ συμφωνία
‘harmony[105],’ are attributed even to the earliest masters: whilst it is
abundantly clear that the Socratic and Cynic paradoxes formed at all times
part of the generally accepted view of Stoic doctrine.
Chrysippus inclines 108. It is an interesting question, which perhaps needs
to the Academy. further investigation, to what extent this approximation
between the doctrines of the Academy and the Porch can
be traced in the writings of Chrysippus. On the one hand we must
remember that Chrysippus was a man of distinctly orthodox temperament;
he firmly opposed the Cynizing heresies of Aristo, and strongly defended
the Stoic theory of knowledge against the Academy. But our knowledge of
the teaching of Chrysippus, abundant in volume, is lacking in precision.
Our authorities, as we have seen, very imperfectly distinguish, and very
inadequately record, the teaching of the two earlier masters; and the
doctrines which are regarded as common to all Stoics must be assumed to
be generally stated in the language of Chrysippus, whose works remained
for centuries the recognised standard of orthodoxy. Even so there are few
distinctive doctrines of Chrysippus which do not seem to be foreshadowed

in expressions attributed to some earlier teacher. Yet we may fairly assume
that in his ethical teaching there was a substantial sacrifice of the
forcefulness of the Socratic character, and a corresponding approach to
Academic views. This appears when he defines the supreme good as ‘a life
according to nature, that is, both general nature and our individual human
nature[106],’ and adds, ‘for our individual natures are parts of the nature of
the all[107].’ This approaches the doctrine of ‘virtue appropriate to the
individual’ (οἰκεία ἀρετή), as taught by the Academics[108]. A still more
striking concession is his permission to men engaged in practical life to
describe advantages as ‘good things,’ provided they are carefully
distinguished from the supreme good[109].
Successors of 109. The weakening hold of the Stoics upon the
Chrysippus. principles of their founder first becomes evident in the
department of physics. Thus it is an essential part of the
theory which the Stoics borrowed from Heraclitus, that as the whole
universe has proceeded from the all-creative fire, so it must in due course
be re-absorbed in it, this periodical re-absorption being technically known
as the ‘conflagration’ (ἐκπύρωσις). On the other hand the followers of
Aristotle, following dualistic principles, placed God and the universe in
eternal contrast, and held both to be immortal. Ingenious controversialists
now pressed the Stoics to explain how their deity exercised his providence
during the periodic intervals in which the universe had no separate
existence. This and like arguments had an immediate effect. Boëthus of
Sidon, a contemporary of Chrysippus, abandoned altogether the Stoic
theory on this subject[110]; Zeno of Tarsus, who had been with his father
Dioscorides a pupil of Chrysippus, and who succeeded him as head of the
school, discreetly ‘suspended his judgment’ upon the point[111]. But
whatever its theoretical embarrassments, the Stoic school continued to
prosper. Zeno of Tarsus wrote but few books, but had more disciples than
any other[112]; he was succeeded by Seleucus of the Tigris[113], and he in
turn by Diogenes[114], Antipater, and Panaetius. The last of these maintained
Zeno’s ‘suspense of judgment[115]’ on the question of the conflagration; but
after his death the Stoics quietly returned to the older opinion.
Diogenes and 110. Diogenes of Seleucia (circ. 238-150 b.c.; often
Antipater. called ‘of Babylon,’ or simply Diogenes Stoicus), and

Antipater of Tarsus (circ. 200-129 b.c.), were both men of eminence in the
history of Stoicism[116], but they were unequally matched against Carneades
(218-128 b.c.), who was head of the Academic school about the same time,
and who proclaimed the doctrine of a universal suspension of judgment.
The many volumes of Chrysippus gave Carneades ample opportunities for
the exercise of his critical powers; and Antipater, unable or unwilling to
meet him in open argument, fell himself into the evil habit of book-
writing[117]. Both these teachers specially interested themselves in questions
of casuistry. Diogenes, who defined the good as ‘reasonableness in the
choice of natural ends[118],’ adopted practically that interpretation of
‘reasonableness’ in which divine reason has the least part, and human
plausibility the freest play[119]. Thus he discusses the problems whether the
seller of a house ought to inform the purchaser of its defects, and whether a
man upon whom false coins have been passed may transfer them to his
neighbour[120]. Exactly as Carneades[121], he finds ‘reasonable excuse’ for
the less scrupulous course. Antipater on the other hand holds that a man’s
duty to his neighbour requires perfect frankness[122]; yet he is said to have
abandoned the Socratic doctrine of the self-sufficiency of virtue, and to
have held that external goods are a part (though only a small part) of the
supreme good[123].
Lesser Stoics. 111. We may now shortly mention some less
important Stoic teachers, chiefly of the early part of the
second century b.c., since their number alone is an indication of the wide
influence of the sect. Aristocreon, said to have been the nephew of
Chrysippus, set up a statue in his honour, as the man who could cut his way
through the knots tied by the Academics[124]. Zenodotus was a pupil of
Diogenes, and wrote an epigram on Zeno: he at least defended the ‘manly
doctrine’ of the founder, and recalled the principle of the sufficiency of
virtue[125]. Apollodorus of Seleucia on the Tigris[126] (sometimes called
Ephillus[127]), another pupil of Diogenes, leant towards Cynic views; for he
declared that ‘the wise man will be a Cynic, for this is a short cut to
virtue[128]’; an opinion afterwards adopted by the Stoics generally[129]. He
also wrote on physics. A third pupil of Diogenes was Apollodorus of
Athens[130]. Closely associated with Antipater is Archedemus of Tarsus; like
his fellow-townsman, he was greatly devoted to dialectics[131]; in ethics he

appears to have inclined strongly to Academic views, holding that the end
of life was the regular performance of daily duties[132]. Just about the time
we have now reached (the middle of the second century b.c.) Eumenes II
founded the great library at Pergamus, intended to rival that of Alexandria.
As librarian he installed a Stoic philosopher, Crates of Mallos, who
devoted much of his time to grammatical inquiries, and endeavoured to
bring Homer into accord with the Stoic views on geography[133]; he is the
first Stoic of whom we hear at Rome, which he visited about 159 b.c. Being
detained there by an accident, he employed his time in giving lectures on
literature[134]; and his pupil Panaetius was destined to introduce Stoicism to
Roman society. Lastly we may mention Heraclides of Tarsus, a pupil of
Antipater, said to have broken away from the teaching of the school by
denying that all sins are equal[135]. Athenodorus of Tarsus, who held the
same view, belongs to a later generation[136]. Of uncertain date are
Basilides, who pushed his monism so far as to declare that all things, even
statements, are bodies[137]; Eudromus, who wrote on the elements of
ethics[138]; and Crinis, who interested himself in logic[139].

FOOTNOTES
[1] See below, § 95.
[2] μάλιστα μὲν οὖν τῶν μαθητῶν ὑπὸ τοῦ Ζήνωνος ἠγαπᾶτο ὁ Περσαῖος Ind.
Sto. Herc. col. xii 3 (Arnim i 437).
[3] ‘Zenonis Stoici servus, qui Persaeus vocatus est’ A. Gellius N. A. ii 18, 8.
ἦν γὰρ ὄντως οἰκέτης γεγονὼς τοῦ Ζήνωνος, ὡς Νικίας ὁ Νικαεὺς ἱστορεῖ ἐν τῇ
περὶ τῶν φιλοσόφων ἱστορίᾳ καὶ Σωτίων ὁ Ἀλεξανδρεὺς ἐν ταῖς Διαδοχαῖς
Athen. iv 54 (Arnim i 452). On the other hand ‘nullum [servum fuisse] Zenoni ...
satis constat’ Sen. Dial. xii 12, 4.
[4] Arnim i 439, 440.
[5] ib. 449.
[6] Athen. iv 54 (Arnim i 452).
[7] Diog. L. vii 162.
[8] Athen. as above.
[9] Paus. ii 8, 4; vii 8, 3 (Arnim i 442).
[10] Plut. Arat. 23, 3. According to Plutarch he afterwards admitted that he
had been wrongly taught as to the ‘good general.’

[11] ‘Persaeus eos dicit esse habitos deos, a quibus magna utilitas ad vitae
cultum esset inventa, ipsasque res utiles et salutares deorum esse vocabulis
nuncupatas’ Cic. N. D. i 15, 38. Persaeus derived the theory from Prodicus;
Philod. de piet. 9 (Arnim i 448), and above, § 42.
[12] Diog. L. vii 9.
[13] ἐκ Διὸς ἀρχώμεσθα, τὸν οὐδέποτ’ ἄνδρες ἐῶμεν | ἄῤῥητον· μεσταὶ δὲ
Διὸς πᾶσαι μὲν ἀγυιαί, | πᾶσαι δ’ ἀνθρώπων ἀγοραί, μεστὴ δὲ θάλασσα | καὶ
λιμένες· πάντῃ δὲ Διὸς κεχρήμεθα πάντες. | τοῦ γὰρ καὶ γένος ἐσμέν· ὁ δ’ ἤπιος
ἀνθρώποισιν | δεξιὰ σημαίνει, λαοὺς δ’ ἐπὶ ἔργον ἐγείρει | μιμνῄσκων βιότοιο:
Aratus, Phaen. Pref.
[14] Plut. Cleo. 11, 2.
[15] Mahaffy, Empire of the Ptolemies, p. 222.
[16] ib. p. 245.
[17] Zeller, Stoics etc., p. 44.
[18] ‘Sphaeri, hominis in primis bene definientis, ut putant Stoici’ Cic. Tusc.
disp. iv 24, 53.
[19] See below, § 332.
[20] ‘fortitudo est ... conservatio stabilis iudici in iis rebus, quae formidolosae
videntur ... [haec definitio erat] Sphaeri’ Cic. as above. The principle was
accepted by all Stoics, see below, § 323.
[21] ‘omitto ... Erillum, qui in cognitione et scientia summum bonum ponit;
qui cum Zenonis auditor esset, vides quantum ab eo dissenserit, et quam non
multum a Platone’ Cic. Ac. ii 42, 129. See also Fin. iv 14, 36.
[22] ‘sin ea [quae virtus leget quaeque reiciet] non neglegemus neque tamen
ad finem summi boni referemus, non multum ab Erilli levitate aberrabimus; facit
enim ille duo seiuncta ultima bonorum’ Fin. iv 15, 40.
[23] ζῆν ἀεὶ πάντα ἀναφέροντα πρὸς τὸ μετ’ ἐπιστήμης ζῆν Diog. L. vii 165.
[24] ὑποτελὶς δ’ ἐστὶ τὸ πρῶτον οἰκεῖον τοῦ ζῴου πάθος, ἀφ’ οὗ κατήρξατο
συναισθάνεσθαι τὸ ζῷον τῆς συστασέως αὑτοῦ, οὔπω λογικὸν [ὂν] ἀλλ’ ἄλογον
Stob. ii 7, 3 c.
[25] διαφέρειν δὲ τέλος καὶ ὑποτελίδα· τῆς μὲν γὰρ καὶ τοὺς μὴ σοφοὺς
στοχάζεσθαι, τοῦ δὲ μόνον τὸν σοφόν Diog. L. vii 165.
[26] The best discussion is by Hirzel, Untersuchungen, ii 46 sqq. He considers
the teaching of Herillus to have inclined to Cynism rather than to Platonism, and
to have been substantially identical with that of Aristo.
[27] λάλον ἐπέκαλει Diog. L. vii 18.
[28] Athen. vi 58 (Arnim i 342).
[29] ib. vii 14 (Arnim i 341).
[30] See above, § 89.
[31] Diog. L. vii 163.
[32] ib. vii 161.

[33] ‘nihil istorum [physicorum] sciri putat posse’ Cic. Ac. ii 39, 123.
[34] ‘qui neque formam dei intellegi posse censeat, neque in dis sensum esse
dicat; dubitetque omnino deus animans necne sit’ Cic. N. D. i 14, 37.
[35] ‘Aristo moralem quoque ... quam solam reliquerat, circumcidit’ Sen. Ep.
89, 13. ‘hanc partem [quae dat propria cuique personae praecepta] levem
existimat, et quae non descendat in pectus usque’ ib. 94, 2: in this letter the
whole subject is very fully discussed.
[36] ἴσον γάρ ἐστι τὸ προηγμένον αὐτὴν λέγειν ἀδιάφορον τῷ ἀγαθὸν ἀξιοῦν,
καὶ σχεδὸν ὀνόματι μόνον διαφέρον Sext. math. xi 64 (Arnim i 361).
[37] ‘Aristonis ... sententia, non esse res ullas praeter virtutes et vitia, inter
quas quicquam omnino interesset’ Cic. Fin. iv 17, 47.
[38] ‘huic [sc. Aristoni] summum bonum est, in his rebus neutram in partem
moveri, quae ἀδιαφορία ab ipso dicitur’ Cic. Ac. ii 42, 130.
[39] Galen, Hipp. et Plat. vii 2 (Arnim i 374). Chrysippus is said to have
complained that he made the various virtues σχέσεις or variations of a single
virtue (Plut. Sto. rep. vii 3); nevertheless the same doctrine frequently reappears
in Stoic writers.
[40] ‘vives, inquit Aristo, magnifice atque praeclare, quod erit cunque visum,
ages: nunquam angere, nunquam cupies, nunquam timebis’ Cic. Fin. iv 25, 69.
[41] ‘Aristonis ... iampridem explosa sententia est’ Off. i 2, 6; cf. Fin. iv 17,
47.
[42] N. Saal, p. 37 sqq. For fuller discussions of Aristo see Hirzel,
Untersuchungen, ii p. 44, and Dyroff, Ethik, pp. 43 sqq., 356 sqq.
[43] Gomperz, Greek Thinkers, ii p. 161.
[44] Mahaffy, Empire of the Ptolemies, p. 207.
[45] Athen. vii 14 (Arnim i 408).
[46] ‘nobis Heracleotes ille Dionysius flagitiose descivisse videtur a Stoicis
propter oculorum dolorem; quasi vero hoc didicisset a Zenone, non dolere, cum
doleret! illud audierat nec tamen didicerat, malum illud non esse, quia turpe non
esset’ Cic. Fin. v 31, 94; τέλος εἶπε τὴν ἡδονὴν διὰ περίστασιν ὀφθαλμίας Diog.
L. vii 166.
[47] ‘[quaerebat Antiochus], Dionysius ille Heracleotes utrum
comprehendisset, ... honestum quod esset, id solum bonum esse, an ... honesti
inane nomen esse, voluptatem esse summum bonum’ Cic. Ac. ii 22, 71.
[48] Diog. L. vii 167; Athen. x 50 (Arnim i 428).
[49] Diog. L. vii 167.
[50] Diog. L. vii 38.
[51] He drew water by night that he might study philosophy by day, according
to Diog. L. vii 168. ‘Cleanthes aquam traxit et rigando horto locavit manus’ Sen.
Ep. 44, 3.
[52] Diog. L. vii 37.

[53] ‘Zenonem Cleanthes non expressisset, si tantummodo audisset: vitae
enim eius interfuit, secreta perspexit, observavit illum, an ex formula sua
viveret’ Sen. Ep. 6, 6.
[54] ‘sensus nostros clariores carminis arta necessitas efficit’ Sen. Ep. 108, 10.
[55] ἐπὶ τῶν αὐτῶν ἔμεινε δογμάτων Diog. L. vii 168.
[56] Stob. i 1, 12 (Arnim i 537).
[57] See above, § 90.
[58] I follow the reading γενόμεσθα, θεοῦ. The words γένος ἐσμέν in the text
are surely a reminiscence of Aratus, Phaen. 5 (so Pearson, p. 276), and θεοῦ
μίμημα is confirmed by Musonius ap. Stob. Flor. 117, 8 (see below, § 419). Mr
Pearson now suggests to me that the MS reading ἤχου may represent the
correction of a pious scribe, ι̅ϲ̅ χ̅υ̅, i.e. Ἰησοῦ Χριστοῦ for θεοῦ. See below, §
244.
[59] The translation follows Pearson’s ἐρρίγασιν. Arnim reads ἔργα τελεῖται.
Even the meaning is quite uncertain here.
[60] μεγάλῳ μικροῖς τε (Diels) seems the nearest reading to the ms, so that the
word ‘great’ above refers to the sun only.
[61] ἄγου δέ μ’, ὦ Ζεῦ, καὶ σύ γ’ πεπρωμένη, | ὅποι ποθ’ ὑμῖν εἰμὶ
διατεταγμένος. | ὡς ἕψομαι γ’ ἄοκνος· ἢν δέ γε μὴ θέλω | κακὸς γενόμενος,
οὐδὲν ἧττον ἕψομαι Epict. Manual 53; ‘duc, o parens celsique dominator poli, |
quocunque placuit; nulla parendi mora est. | adsum impiger. fac nolle, comitabor
gemens, | malusque patiar, quod pati licuit bono. | ducunt volentem fata,
nolentem trahunt’ Sen. Ep. 107, 11. The translation given above is by G. H.
Rendall (M. Aurel. Introd. p. lxvii).
[62] Clem. Strom. v 3, 17 (Arnim i 559).
[63] Clem. Protrept. vi 72 (Arnim i 557).
[64] Stob. iii 6, 3 (Arnim i 573).
[65] See below, § 317.
[66] As, for instance, Zeller does when he writes ‘Cleanthes was adapted to
uphold his master’s teaching, but he was incapable of expanding it more
completely, or of establishing it on a wider basis’ Stoics, p. 41.
[67] Hirzel, Untersuchungen, ii pp. 134 sqq.; Stein, Psychologie der Stoa, i
65-72, 162-171, ii 316-332.
[68] Sen. Ep. 113, 23.
[69] Diog. L. vii 174.
[70] ib. 134.
[71] ‘Cleanthes ipsum mundum ... deum dicit esse’ Cic. N. D. i 14, 37.
[72] Arnim i 497, 511.
[73] ‘ultimum et altissimum et omnia complexum ardorem, qui aether
nominetur’ Cic. as in note 71.
[74] Cic. N. D. ii 15, 41.

[75] ‘sic res se habet, ut omnia, quae alantur et quae crescant, contineant in se
vim caloris, sine qua neque ali possent neque crescere’ ib. 9, 23.
[76] ‘haec (quae Zeno dixit λόγον esse) Cleanthes in spiritum congerit quem
permeatorem universitatis affirmat’ Tert. Apol. 21 (Arnim i 533).
[77] The substance of this doctrine is attributed to Zeno also: Ζήνων ...
πνεῦμα ἔνθερμον εἶναι τὴν ψυχήν Diog. L. vii 157.
[78] See below, § 277.
[79] Pearson, Introd. p. 45; below, § 362.
[80] Arnim i 143.
[81] There is a slight inconvenience, but also a real advantage, in using this
term both in its philosophic sense for the governing part of the soul, and
historically for the system of government founded by Augustus. There is a
genuine analogy between the two, though it is not developed by the Latin
writers. Seneca uses principale only.
[82] ἡγεμονικὸν δὲ τοῦ κόσμου Κλεάνθει μὲν ἤρεσε τὸν ἥλιον εἶναι Euseb. pr.
ev. xv 15, 7 (Arnim i 499); and see below, § 201.
[83] Κλεάνθης [τὸν θεὸν] τὴν τοῦ κόσμου ψυχήν Aët. i 7, 17 (Arnim i 532);
‘totius naturae menti atque animo tribuit hoc nomen [dei]’ Cic. N. D. i 14, 37.
[84] ‘Cleanthes ipsum mundum deum dicit esse’ ib.
[85] Cic. N. D. ii 5, 13-15; and see below, ch. x.
[86] See below, § 195.
[87] εἰ τοῖς πολλοῖς, εἶπε, προσεῖχον, οὐκ ἂν ἐφιλοσόφησα Diog. L. vii 182.
[88] ἐγὼ δὲ τἄλλα μακάριος πέφυκ’ ἀνὴρ | πλὴν εἰς Κλεάνθην· τοῦτο δ’ οὐκ
εὐδαιμονῶ Diog. L. vii 179.
[89] ib. 182.
[90] ib. 179.
[91] ‘num contentus est [Chrysippus] docere, rem ostendere, definire,
explorare? non est contentus: verum auget in quantum potest, exaggerat,
praemunit, iterat, differt, recurrit, interrogat, describit, dividit, personas fingit,
orationem suam alii accommodat’ Fronto, ep. ad Ant. p. 146 (Arnim ii 27).
[92] ὅθεν φασὶν ἐπ’ αὐτοῦ λεχθῆναι, εἰ μὴ γὰρ ἦν Χρύσιππος, οὐκ ἂν ἦν στοά
Diog. L. vii 183.
[93] Diog. L. vii 180.
[94] ‘de quo queri solent Stoici, dum studiose omnia conquisierit contra
sensus et perspicuitatem ... ipsum sibi respondentem inferiorem fuisse; itaque ab
eo armatum esse Carneaden’ Cic. Ac. ii 27, 87; cf. Plut. Sto. rep. x 3 and 4.
[95] ‘ab Chrysippo nihil magnum nec magnificum desideravi, qui suo quodam
more loquitur, ut omnia verborum momentis, non rerum ponderibus examinet’
Cic. Rep. iii 8, 12; ‘ad Chrysippi laqueos revertamur’ de Fato 4, 7; ‘Chrysippus,
penes quem subtile illud acumen est et in imam penetrans veritatem, qui rei
agendae causa loquitur et verbis non ultra quam ad intellectum satis est utitur,
totum librum his ineptiis replet’ Sen. Ben. i 3, 8; ‘magnum mehercule virum, sed

tamen Graecum, cuius acumen nimis tenue retunditur et in se saepe replicatur’
ib. 4, 1.
[96] ‘quod est bonum, omne laudabile est; quod autem laudabile est, omne est
honestum; bonum igitur quod est, honestum est’ Cic. Fin. iii 8, 27.
[97] See below, §§ 162, 163.
[98] ‘Arcesilas primum ... ex variis Platonis libris sermonibusque Socraticis
hoc maxime arripuit, nihil esse certi quod aut sensibus aut animo percipi possit’
Cic. de Orat. iii 18, 67. See above, § 71.
[99] ὁ προσέχων τῷ εὐλόγῳ κατορθώσει καὶ εὐδαιμονήσει Sext. math. vii
158.
[100] ‘cum Chrysippus, Academicos refellens, permulto clariora et certiora
esse dicat, quae vigilantibus videantur, quam quae somniantibus’ Cic. Div. ii 61,
126; see further, § 147.
[101] See below, § 346.
[102] See Pearson, Cle. fr. 42.
[103] According to Stob. ii 7, 6 e this term was used by all the Stoic teachers.
[104] Used by Chrysippus, see Arnim iii 473.
[105] Diog. L. vii 88.
[106] φύσιν δὲ Χρύσιππος μὲν ἐξακούει, ᾗ ἀκολούθως δεῖ ζῆν, τήν τε κοινὴν
καὶ ἰδίως τὴν ἀνθρωπίνην ib. vii 89.
[107] μέρη γάρ εἰσιν αἱ ἡμέτεραι φύσεις τῆς τοῦ ὅλου ib. 87.
[108] See above, § 71.
[109] δίδωσι τοῖς βουλομένοις τὰ προηγμένα καλεῖν ἀγαθά Plut. Sto. rep. 30,
4.
[110] Philo, inc. mund. 15, p. 248 (Arnim iii Boëth. 7).
[111] τὸν μὲν γὰρ τούτου [sc. Chrysippi] μαθητὴν καὶ διάδοχον τῆς σχολῆς
Ζήνωνά φασιν ἐπισχεῖν περὶ τῆς ἐκπυρώσεως τῶν ὅλων Ar. Did. fr. 36 Diels
(Arnim iii Z. T. 5).
[112] Diog. L. vii 35.
[113] Ind. Sto. Herc. col. 48 (Arnim iii Z. T. 2).
[114] See Zeller, Stoics etc., p. 50.
[115] See below, § 115.
[116] ‘aliud Diogeni Babylonio videri solet, magno et gravi Stoico, aliud
Antipatro, discipulo eius, homini acutissimo’ Cic. Off. iii 12, 51; ‘Antipater inter
magnos [Stoicae] sectae auctores’ Sen. Ep. 92, 5.
[117] Plut. de garr. 23.
[118] τὸ εὐλογιστεῖν ἐν τῇ τῶν κατὰ φύσιν ἐκλογῇ Diog. L. vii 88; for the
Academic view see § 71 above.
[119] See below, §§ 159, 332.

CHAPTER V.
THE STOIC SECT IN ROME.

Growth of the Stoic 112. In the third century b.c. Stoicism won adherents
‘sect.’ slowly and one by one, as individuals were convinced by
reasoning and example. In the second century its
progress became more rapid, for it was reinforced by inheritance and social
influence. Fathers handed down its doctrine to their sons, and teachers to
their pupils. Groups of men united by a common respect for the school and
its founders began to associate together, not only at Athens, but also (as we
may well infer from the list of names given at the end of the last chapter) at
such centres as Pergamus, Babylon, Seleucia, Tarsus, Sidon, and even
Alexandria[1]. Thus out of the school there grew up the ‘sect’ (secta); that is,
a society of men drawn from different nations and ranks, but sharing the
same convictions, united by a bond of brotherhood, and feeling their way
towards mutual consolation and support; a company going through life on
the same path, and prepared to submit to a common authority[2]. The spread
of the sect was rapid though quiet; and as we cannot expect to trace its
history from place to place, we are unable to say when first it found
adherents at Rome. But early in the second century b.c. Rome entered into
close political relations with two of the most highly civilized states of Asia
Minor, Pergamus and Rhodes; and through the men of learning and taste
who were associated with these communities Stoicism was introduced to
the ruling class at the centre of the new empire, to win there an easy
conquest which proved no slight compensation for the political
subordination of the states from which its emissaries had sprung.
Panaetius. 113. We have already noticed[3] that the Stoic Crates,
the head of the library established at Pergamus, visited
Rome in 159 b.c. and there gave lectures on literature, in which he may
perhaps have taken occasion to expound at least the chief doctrines of the
Stoic school. Only a few years later, in 155 b.c., the celebrated embassy
from Athens, which included the heads of three of the chief philosophical
schools at that time, arrived in Rome. Diogenes of Seleucia represented the

Stoics, Critolaus the Peripatetics, and Carneades the Academic school; and
all three expounded their respective theories before enormous audiences.
We are told that Diogenes made a good impression by his sober and
temperate style[4]. Thus the way was prepared for the more permanent
influence of Panaetius of Rhodes (circ. 189-109 b.c.)[5]. He was a
gentleman of position in the wealthy and well-governed island state, and in
early youth pursued his studies at Pergamus, so that he was probably
attracted to the school by Crates[6]. From Pergamus he passed to Athens,
where he found established the three teachers already named, and attached
himself to Diogenes[7], and after his death to his successor Antipater[8]. His
writings shew that he was also much influenced by the teaching of
Carneades. But more than any of his predecessors he appreciated
philosophy in its literary form. Plato, the ‘Homer of philosophers,’ he held
in veneration[9]; from Aristotle, Xenocrates, Theophrastus and Dicaearchus
he constantly quoted[10]. His admiration for these philosophers greatly
influenced his style, and caused him to reject the stiff and paradoxical form
used by his predecessors[11]; it also led to the surrender of some
characteristic Stoic doctrines in favour of the teaching of Plato and
Aristotle[12]. His studies extended to every branch of philosophy, including
astronomy[13] and politics[14]. The latter interest brought him into
association with Polybius the historian, with whom he held frequent
discussions as to the best form of government; the two learned and
experienced Greeks agreed in their admiration for the constitution of
Rome[15]. Panaetius visited Rome, and there became the intimate friend of
Scipio Africanus minor: this friendship must have begun before the year
140 b.c., when Panaetius accompanied Scipio on a mission to settle the
affairs of the East[16]; it lasted till the death of Scipio in 129 b.c. Round
Scipio and his Greek friends Polybius and Panaetius there gathered a
society of the noblest and most intelligent men of Rome; and in this circle
the Latin language as well as Greek philosophy found a new birth. At the
time of Scipio’s death Panaetius became the head of the Stoic school at
Athens, and held this position till his own death twenty years later[17].
Amongst his friends and pupils were men who took a leading part in the
government of their native cities[18].

His ethical 114. Panaetius may well be regarded as the founder of
teaching. Roman Stoicism, and is of special interest to us as the
writer of the treatise (περὶ καθήκοντος) which Cicero
has freely translated in his de Officiis. He sets before us Stoicism as the
school which will train the scholar, the gentleman, and the statesman, whilst
he shrinks from those bolder doctrines, borrowed from the Cynic school,
which conflict with that which is conventional, or, as their opponents say,
with that which is becoming. The central doctrine that virtue is knowledge,
and is the sole and sufficient good, he accepts as the plain teaching of
nature; and with it the paradox that the wise man never errs[19]. Yet even
these maxims are somewhat toned down as he expresses them; and external
advantages appear to him worthy of pursuit, not only as giving a meaning to
virtue and providing a field for its exercise, but also for their own sake, so
long as they do not conflict with virtue[20]; and he perhaps hesitated to
assert positively that ‘pain is no evil[21].’ In his treatises the figure of the
wise man is withdrawn to the background; he is practically concerned only
with the ‘probationer’ (ὁ προκόπτων), who is making some advance in the
direction of wisdom. This advance is not made by acts of perfect virtue, but
by regular performance of ‘services’ (καθήκοντα, officia), the simple and
daily duties which come in the way of the good citizen[22]. Further,
scientific investigation must not become the main end of life, as perhaps it
seemed to Aristotle; it is permitted only as a recreation in the well-earned
intervals between the calls of active life[23].
His views on 115. It does not appear that Panaetius devoted much
physics. attention to logic[24]; on the other hand he was much
occupied with that part of philosophy which deals with
the history of the universe and its government by divine providence[25]. The
Heraclitean theory he appears to have left altogether on one side; for he
rejected the theory of the conflagration[26], as Boethus had done before him,
accepting the objection of Carneades that ‘if everything turned into fire, the
fire would go out for lack of fuel[27].’ He therefore joined the Peripatetics in
holding that the universe is immortal[28]; but since again Carneades has
shown that ‘no living thing is immortal,’ it follows that the world is not an
animal, nor is the deity its soul[29]. Upon all these subjects Panaetius ceased

to maintain Stoic doctrines; and, alone amongst Stoic teachers, he
‘suspended his judgment’ as to the reality of divination[30].
Concession in 116. Similar concessions to his opponents mark his
ethics. treatment in detail of ethics. Thus he takes from Aristotle
the view that ‘virtue is a mean between two vices’; and
this doctrine, so alien from true Stoic principle, forms the basis of the
treatment which we find adopted in the de Officiis. The theory of the four
‘cardinal virtues,’ Wisdom, Justice, Courage, and Soberness, was probably
common property at this time; but whereas in Cynism Courage and in the
earlier Stoicism Wisdom are the dominant virtues, in the theory of
Panaetius Soberness, identified with decorum, far exceeds the rest in
practical importance. Thus the triumph won by Panaetius for the name of
Stoicism was purchased by the sacrifice not only of its physics, but very
largely of its ethics also; and the success of the new system might not
unfairly be described as a victory of literature over logic, of reasonableness
over reason, and of compromise over consistency. However this may be,
Panaetius undoubtedly succeeded in presenting Greek philosophy to his
Roman friends in a form in which it recommended itself alike to their
reasoning powers and to their moral sense.
Posidonius. 117. The virtual, though not the nominal, successor of
Panaetius was Posidonius of Rhodes[31] (circ. 135-51
[32]
b.c. ), who after studying under Panaetius at Athens travelled widely,
finally settling at Rhodes, and there took an active part in political life. Like
his master, he was a devoted student of Plato, and he wrote a commentary
on the Timaeus. In this commentary he developes a new theory of the
universe, which he asserts to be that which Plato had learnt from the
Pythagoreans, and to be at root the same as that taught by the Stoics. The
starting-point is the μονάς or unit; from this are evolved the numbers and
the elements by a principle of flux, as in the system of Heraclitus[33]. The
unity and the first of the numbers, the two, differ as force and matter; so
that the dualism of Aristotle is here definitely subordinated to a supreme
monism. This study of Posidonius is therefore incidentally of high
importance as a side-light on Stoic metaphysics and cosmology. In addition
he wrote on almost all the principal divisions of philosophy, thus acquiring
a brilliant reputation, particularly in the eyes of the philosophic nobles of
Rome. Cicero made his acquaintance at Rhodes in 78 b.c., and refers to him

more often in his works than to any other of his instructors[34]. Pompey, in
the midst of his eastern campaigns, put himself to much trouble to visit
him[35]. Amongst his Roman visitors and admirers were also Velleius, Cotta,
and Lucilius[36]. A century later, Seneca looked back to him as one of those
who had made the largest contribution to philosophy[37].
His teaching. 118. As compared with the more scientific Panaetius,
Posidonius marks a reaction in favour of the religious
[38]
side of Stoicism . Thus it comes about that Cicero bases on his work ‘on
gods’ (περὶ θεῶν) his own statement of the Stoic theology in the second
book of his de Natura deorum[39]. Posidonius restores the theory of
Divination, as to which Panaetius had held the gravest doubts[40]. He
strongly asserts the divine origin of the soul, and accepts the Persian view
that in this life it is imprisoned in the body[41]. He affirmed the future
conflagration[42], and found this theory not inconsistent with a belief in the
pre-existence and the immortality of the individual soul.
In physics and logic alike Posidonius upholds the doctrine of the Logos,
and it appears that it passed directly from him to Philo of Alexandria, and so
into Judaeo-Christian speculation. In ethics he maintained the sufficiency of
virtue[43], and re-defined it in the spirit of Cleanthes rather than of
Chrysippus[44]. In the practical application of such doctrines to cases of
conscience he disliked the lax views of Diogenes, and sided rather with
Antipater and Panaetius[45]. Finally he held that the ideal Republic had
already been achieved in the golden age, when the wise had ruled for the
protection and happiness of their subjects[46].
Hecato. 119. Hecato of Rhodes was also a pupil of Panaetius:
he wrote books on ethics and casuistry which were
largely used by Cicero and by Seneca, both of whom frequently refer to him
by name. In laying the foundations of his ethics he distinguishes between
the ‘theoretic virtues,’ such as Wisdom, Justice, Courage and Soberness,
which call for the assent of the individual, and are possessed only by the
wise man, and the corresponding ‘non-theoretic virtues,’ which are
dispositions of body found also amongst the unwise; as health which
corresponds to temperance, and so forth[47]. By this extension of the
conception of virtue the doctrine of its sufficiency is rendered easy of

acceptance[48]. In the practical application of his theory he laid great stress
on the doctrine of ‘relations’ (σχέσεις), that is on duties towards parent,
wife, child, slave, country, and so forth[49]. In order to be in a position to
perform these duties a man is entitled to care for his own life and
property[50]. He need not be too careful to provide for his slaves if
provisions are dear[51]; nor should he too hastily give up for another his
chance of escape from a shipwreck[52]. Hecato therefore seems rather to
side with Diogenes in questions of casuistry, taking a lax view where
Antipater and Panaetius would be inclined to a more altruistic standpoint.
The unsectarian 120. The three teachers of Rhodes appear to us as men
philosopher. of great learning and of wide interests, and not without
original force; on the other hand we cannot say that they
made any very large contributions towards the discussion of the great
problems of philosophy. Apart from them we find little trace of creative
ability in the school during the first century b.c. There were however
numerous teachers occupied in expounding and defending the doctrines of
the school, and their special interest lay in the controversies between the
Porch and the Academy. From these there resulted a temporary fusion of the
two schools. Their respective names and dogmas remained unaltered; but
attention was no longer given to the great differences of principle which
divided them. Learning, politics, and social influences alike were at work,
not to solve the great controversies, but to throw a mist over them. From
these circumstances there emerged the type which we now call the
‘eclectic,’ but which the Romans called simply the ‘philosopher’; that is,
the man who drew practical wisdom from all sources alike, binding himself
to the dogmas of no school, but winning his way by aptness of discourse
and sympathy of manner to social importance[53]. We have but a limited
interest at the present day in these ephemeral reputations; the type is still
with us, both in the preacher whose sympathies are given with equal
readiness to half-a-dozen warring denominations, and in the politician who
emphasizes his connexion by birth with three or four nationalities and as
many grades of society. Nor are we called upon to question the usefulness
of this blurring of differences. We must however remark that so far as our
immediate subject is concerned, the fusion was equivalent to a defeat of
Stoicism by the Academy. That nothing can be definitely proved; that a man
may choose his principles at the bidding of his fancy; that an argument may

be sufficiently sound for practical purposes even when there exists a
counter-argument of almost equal strength; that the problems of dialectics,
physics, and ethics may be discussed separately, instead of being treated as
parts of one whole; all these are the points for which the Academic
contended with as much consistency as his system allowed, and which
every philosopher, whether or not he called himself a Stoic, conceded when
he began to combine the teachings of diverse systems.
Lesser Stoics. 121. After the death of Panaetius the school at Athens
appears to have been conducted by Dardanus and
Mnesarchus, both of Athens, jointly[54]; later we find at its head Dionysius
of Cyrene, who enjoyed a great reputation as a mathematician, and was a
vigorous opponent of Demetrius the Epicurean[55]. About the same time[56]
Athenodorus the elder of Tarsus (circ. 130-60 b.c.) became librarian at
Pergamus; he made use of his position to erase from Zeno’s works those
passages (probably from the Republic) which were repugnant to the Stoic
teaching of his own time; he was however detected and the passages in
question were restored[57]. It appears also that he counselled withdrawal
from the vexations of public life, a policy by no means consistent with the
teaching of Zeno, and for which he is rebuked by Seneca[58]. From him we
first hear the practical precept which both Seneca and Juvenal echo, to ask
nothing of the gods that you cannot ask openly[59]. In his old age he left
Pergamus and came to reside at Rome with M. Porcius Cato in b.c. 70.
Amongst the younger friends of Cato were Antipater of Tyre, who wrote on
practical ethics, and died at Athens about 45 b.c.[60]; and Apollonides, with
whom he conversed on the subject of suicide shortly before his death[61].
From Diodotus Cicero received instruction in Stoicism before 88 b.c.[62]; he
conceived a great affection for him, and invited him to live in his house[63]:
he remained there till his death in 59 b.c., when he left Cicero a
considerable property[64]. In his old age he was blind, but he continued his
studies, and in particular that of mathematics, as ardently as ever[65].
Apollonius of Tyre wrote a biography of Zeno, from which Diogenes
Laertius often quotes[66]. To this period perhaps belongs Hierocles, who
was bitterly opposed to Epicurus on account of his choosing pleasure as the
end of life, and still more for his denial of providence[67].

Cicero. 122. We have little reason to regret that only
fragments at most remain to us of the works of these
philosophers, since Cicero presents to us a comprehensive view not only of
the doctrines they professed, but also of the criticisms which their
opponents passed upon them, and again of the replies they made to these
criticisms. In carrying out this work for Stoicism and its rival systems
Cicero not only created the philosophic terminology of the future by his
translations of technical terms from Greek into Latin, but also established a
new style of philosophic discussion. By the friendly tone of his dialogues,
placed in the mouths of men whose common interest in Greek studies made
the divergencies of the schools to which they belonged a secondary matter;
by the amplitude of his style, which gives itself time and space to approach
a difficult conception from many points of view; and by the simplicity of
his language and illustrations, which assumes that every philosophical
contention can be plainly and forcibly put before the average man of letters,
he has set an example of the art of exposition which has perhaps not been
surpassed since[68]. His most systematic expositions of Stoic doctrine are as
follows. In the Academica a general view of Zeno’s teaching is given by M.
Varro (i 10, 35 to 11, 42), and the Stoic logic, as accepted by Antiochus[69],
is defended by L. Licinius Lucullus (ii 1, 1 to 19, 63). In the de Natura
deorum (bk ii) the Stoic physics is explained by Q. Lucilius Balbus; in the
de Finibus (bk iii) the Stoic ethics by M. Porcius Cato, as the most
distinguished Roman who has adopted them as a standard of life. In the de
Officiis Cicero adopts the form of a letter addressed to his son when
studying at Athens, and avowedly adapts the substance of the work of
Panaetius already mentioned, supplementing it from a memorandum of the
teaching of Posidonius which was specially prepared for him by
Athenodorus Calvus[70]; this book deals with ethics mainly in its practical
applications. In many of his other works, such as the de Amicitia, de
Senectute, Tusculan disputations, de Fato, de Divinatione, and Paradoxa,
Cicero makes use of Stoic material without giving professedly an
exposition of the Stoic system.
Areius Didymus. 123. The school to which Cicero finally attached
himself was that founded by Antiochus of Ascalon (circ.
[71]
125-50 b.c.) , who under the name of the ‘old Academy’ taught doctrines
which were practically indistinguishable from those of the diluted Stoicism

which now prevailed, avoiding only the dogmatic temper and a few of the
paradoxes of the Stoics[72]. This appears to have been the prevailing tone of
philosophical discussion from the fall of the Republic to the death of
Augustus. Brutus (the ‘tyrannicide’), though family and political
associations have linked his name with that of Cato, was in his
philosophical opinions a follower of Antiochus[73]. Not very different were
probably the views of two teachers, nominally Stoics, who held high
positions in the household of Augustus. Athenodorus the younger of Tarsus
(possibly the same as the Athenodorus Calvus mentioned in the last section)
was a pupil of Posidonius, and whilst teaching at Apollonia counted
amongst his pupils Julius Caesar’s great-nephew Octavius, who was
afterwards to become the emperor Augustus. Octavius took his teacher with
him to Rome, and he had the credit of exercising a restraining influence on
his patron. In b.c. 30 he was sent in his old age to reform the government of
his native city Tarsus. He appears to have written chiefly on popular moral
subjects[74]. Areius Didymus of Alexandria[75], who was for a longer period
installed in the household of Augustus[76], is of interest to us as the first of
those who made excerpts from the works of earlier writers, and to him we
owe most of the Stoic fragments found in the work of Stobaeus. He
probably depended in the first instance on the writings of Antiochus of
Ascalon. He was instrumental in saving his native town Alexandria when
taken by Augustus in b.c. 30. It is probable enough that his ‘Epitome’ was
prepared for the use of Augustus, and provided the material for
philosophical discussions at the banquet, such as those to which Horace so
often refers[77]. Seneca tells us that he was acquainted with the inmost
thoughts of the family of Augustus, and reports the language in which he
consoled Livia upon the death of her son Drusus[78] (b.c. 9). He was
succeeded by Theon of Alexandria, also a Stoic, who took a special interest
in physiology.
Attalus. 124. We know from Horace that in the time of
Augustus Stoic philosophers were found not only at the
court, but also in the public lecture-room, and at the street-corners. Such
were Stertinius[79], of whom the commentators say that he was the author of
120 books on Stoicism[80]; Crispinus[81], said to have been a bad poet[82];
and Damasippus[83]. In Horace’s amusing sketches we find the Stoic as he
appeared to the unconverted. He has sore eyes, or else a troublesome

cough[84]; he presses his teaching upon his hearers unreasonably and
unseasonably. But in the reign of Tiberius we find these popular lecturers
held in very high esteem. One of the most eminent was Attalus, of whom
Seneca the philosopher gives us a glowing account. Seneca was the first
each day to besiege the door of his school, and the last to leave through it.
This philosopher must have exercised an extraordinary influence over the
young men of his time. In his mouth the paradox ‘the wise man is a king’
seemed a modest statement; his pupils were half disposed to regard him as a
god[85]. When he declaimed on the misery of human life, a deep pity for
their fellow-men fell upon them; when he extolled poverty, they felt
disposed to renounce their wealth; when he recommended the simple life,
they readily abandoned the use of meat and wine, of unguents and of warm
baths[86]. Seneca quotes from him in full an address on the vanity of wealth,
which shews his teaching to be very similar to that of the more famous
Musonius[87]. He attached a special value to the discipline which hardships
bring with them[88]. He incurred the dislike of Seianus, who defrauded him
of his property and reduced him to the position of a peasant[89].
Cornutus. 125. Our attention is next attracted by L. Annaeus
Cornutus (circ. 20-66 a.d.), who was born in Africa, and
entered the house of the Annaei, presumably as a slave. There he received
his freedom, and became the teacher of the two poets Persius and Lucan; of
these the former has left us an attractive account of his personality[90]. He
wrote in Greek, and one of his works, ‘On the Nature of the Gods,’ is still
extant. This book is a development of the system which we see followed by
Cicero in the de Natura deorum (based upon Posidonius), by which a
reconciliation is effected between the Stoic physics and the popular
mythology. By means of etymology and allegory, all that is incredible or
offensive in the old legends of the gods is metamorphosed into a
rationalistic explanation of the phenomena of the universe. Thus Zeus is the
soul of the universe, because he is the cause of life in all living things, Zeus
being derived from ζῆν ‘live.’ Apollo is the sun, and Artemis the moon:
Prometheus the providence that rules in the universe. Pan is the universe.
Cronos consumes all his offspring except Zeus, for time consumes all
except what is eternal. Hera, the air (Ἥρα from ἀήρ) is sister and wife of
Zeus, because the elements of fire and air are intimately associated. The
popularity of such a treatise goes far to explain to us the close connexion

now becoming established between the Stoic philosophy and the practices
of Roman religion.
Seneca. 126. Roughly contemporary with Annaeus Cornutus,
but perhaps rather older, was the famous Latin writer L.
Annaeus Seneca (circ. 4 b.c.-65 a.d.). Born in Corduba in Spain, he may
have inherited simple tastes from his provincial origin; but it was the
eloquence of Attalus which moved him to a deliberate choice of the
philosophic life[91]. Under this influence he was at one time tempted to
throw away his wealth; whilst the Pythagorean philosopher Sotion induced
him to become for a time a vegetarian[92]. To the end of his days he adhered
to the ‘simple life’; he felt an aversion to wine, oysters, and all luxurious
food; he discarded hot baths and soft chairs as debilitating; and of perfumes
he would have only the best, that is, none at all[93]. He was an ardent lover
of books, and appears to us as the last Roman who made a systematic study
of Stoicism in the original authorities, and thus grasped the system in its full
extent. He did not however claim, like his teacher Attalus, to be a wise man;
far from that, he laments that he is still in the deep waters of wickedness[94].
In an age when a governmental career was freely open to talent, Seneca’s
powers and industry carried him to high political station, and greatly
increased his inherited wealth. He played a part in the court of Claudius,
and in time became the tutor, and ultimately the minister, of Nero. He did
not possess the zeal of a reformer, and doubtless tolerated many an abuse,
and often bowed his head before power even when linked with tyranny[95].
But if he did not imitate the unbending stiffness of Cato, we have still no
reason to credit the personal calumnies that pursued him at court. Had his
career as a whole been a discredit to his philosophical profession, we may
feel sure that Juvenal would never have overlooked so sensational a
contrast. For the last few years of his life he resigned political power, that
he might devote himself to what he deemed a more important task, the
exposition of the practical teaching of Stoicism[96]. Finally he was, or
appeared to be, drawn into a plot against the emperor, and was called upon
in consequence to put an end to his life.
His style. 127. The literary style of Seneca was severely
criticized by critics almost contemporary with him.
Gellius tells us that in his time it was by many not thought worth while to
read his writings, because the style was found to be vulgar, the matter

characteristic of half-educated men, the argument petty and exaggerated[97].
Quintilian finds that much of his work is admirable, but much also is tainted
by a striving for cheap effect and a want of solid knowledge[98]; and he
thinks him in no way comparable to Cicero[99]. This judgment is generally
maintained in the world of modern scholarship, with the result that Seneca’s
works are not read in our schools and universities, and are little known even
to professional scholars. On the other side we may set the extraordinary
popularity of Seneca both in his own times[100] and in those of the
Renascence. It is possible to argue that his style represents the true tendency
of the Latin language in his day, and that it is in the direct line towards the
modern style of French prose, generally considered the best in the world. As
regards his matter it is not possible to deny that he repeats the same moral
teaching many times in slightly altered form[101], and that he seldom gives
us a continuous or thorough treatment of any important subject[102]. His
writings may well be compared with articles in our periodical literature and
the hebdomadal productions of our pulpits; they aim at immediate effect
rather than at the slow building up of ordered knowledge. Just for that
reason they admirably illustrate for us Stoicism in its practical application
to daily life; and the extraordinary popularity which they enjoyed for many
centuries seems to shew that they are in touch with deeply-rooted instincts
of humanity.
His independence. 128. Seneca claims to be an independent thinker, only
adopting the views of Stoic masters because their
arguments convince him[103]. Still he does not use the liberty he claims to
assert any new principles, but only to deviate occasionally in the direction
of popular views. Thus he frequently adopts some dogma of Epicurus or
some Cynic paradox to point a moral, and appears unconscious of the deep-
lying differences which keep these schools apart from Stoicism; and only in
reply to some challenge does he state with any care the Stoic position. This
is particularly the case with the problem of wealth, which both Epicurean
and Cynic disparage, but the true Stoic is called upon to defend as a ‘thing
of high degree.’ Yet when Seneca is called upon to defend his own
possession of wealth he states his case with admirable clearness.
Weakening of 129. It is perhaps partly due to his style that it appears
Stoicism. at times as if Seneca’s hold on Stoic doctrine was often

weak. He has no real belief in conviction and scientific knowledge: ‘if we
try to be exact everywhere, we shall need to keep silence; for there is
something to be said against most statements[104].’ For the detailed Stoic
system of logic he feels only contempt[105]. In physics however his interest
is keen, probably under the influence of his favourite Posidonius: he sets
forth with great clearness the theory of tone (τόνος, intentio)[106]: he
eloquently maintains the existence of gods, abandoning the traditional
proofs, and basing his conviction upon the moral sense in man[107]: he holds
firmly to the doctrine of the conflagration[108]. Still we have constant reason
to doubt whether these beliefs are linked together in his mind by any
consistent principle. His ethics are marked by a similar weakness: the
Socratic ‘strength and force’ is wanting, and is replaced by a spirit of
quietism and resignation. The important position which he has filled in
Roman politics awakens no enthusiasm in himself, nor does the greatness of
the Roman empire excite his admiration. His heart is in his books; to them
he gives up entirely his closing years. His wise man will not go out of the
way to mix in politics; rather he will carefully consider how he may avoid
the dangers of social strife[109]. This enfeebled moral teaching is found also
in the successors of Seneca, and in modern literature is constantly quoted as
true Stoic doctrine. But though Seneca’s philosophy finds him many an
excuse for his retirement, he would have been a more faithful disciple of
Zeno and Cleanthes if he had borne the burden of public life to the end.
Musonius. 130. To the same period as Seneca belongs C.
Musonius Rufus, in whom however we observe
distinctly, what we may conjecture had also been the case with Attalus, that
ethical teaching is becoming divorced from philosophical theory, and so the
Cynic standpoint approached. Musonius was a preacher with a singular
impressiveness of address. Speaking from the heart on matters of direct
moral import, he won respect even from those who were least willing to be
guided by him. He disdained the applause of his hearers, desiring instead to
see each one tremble, blush, exult, or stand bewildered according as the
address affected him[110]. ‘If you have leisure to praise me,’ he said to his
pupils, ‘I am speaking to no purpose.’ ‘Accordingly,’ said one of them, ‘he
used to speak in such a way that every one who was sitting there supposed
that some one had accused him before Rufus: he so touched on what was
doing, he so placed before the eyes every man’s faults[111].’ Amongst his

pupils were Aulus Gellius the antiquarian, Epictetus, and a certain Pollio
who made a collection of his sayings (ἀπομνημονεύματα Μουσωνίου), of
which extracts have been preserved for us by Stobaeus. They consist of
moral maxims (χρεῖαι) such as ‘Live each day as if your last[112],’ ‘Nothing
is more pleasurable than temperance[113],’ and discourses or ‘diatribes’
(διατριβαί) dealing with subjects such as discipline, endurance, marriage,
obedience to parents, and so forth[114]. In elevation of standard these
writings stand higher than those of the early Stoics; and the influence of
Musonius was so great that we may almost regard him as a third founder of
the philosophy.
His part in politics.131. In public life Musonius played a conspicuous
part; he was the Cato of his generation, trusted by all
parties for his absolute rectitude of character, and respected for his
fearlessness; but he was much less out of touch with the real conditions of
the Roman world. When in a.d. 62 Rubellius Plautus found himself unable
to quiet Nero’s suspicions of his loyalty, it was believed that Musonius
encouraged him to await his end calmly, rather than attempt rebellion[115].
After the conspiracy of Piso, Musonius was banished from Rome by Nero,
together with most of the eminent personalities of the capital[116]. On Nero’s
death he returned to Rome, and when the armies of Vespasian and Vitellius
were fighting in the suburbs of the city, the senate sent delegates to propose
terms of peace. Musonius joined them, and ventured to address the common
soldiers, expatiating on the blessings of peace, and sternly reproving them
for carrying arms. He was roughly handled and forced to desist. Tacitus
speaks severely of this unseasonable display of philosophy[117]; and
certainly Rome would not have been the gainer if the issue had remained
undecided[118]. But that such an attempt was possible in defiance of all
military discipline speaks much both for the courage of the speaker and for
the respect in which his profession was held. Musonius continued to play an
honourable part in public life during the reign of Vespasian, and retained the
confidence of the emperor even at a time when his advisers secured his
assent to a measure for expelling other philosophers from the capital[119].
Euphrates and Dio. 132. In the reigns of Titus and his successors pupils
and converts of Musonius played not inconspicuous
parts in public life. Amongst them was one Euphrates, of Tyre or Epiphania

(circ. 35-118 a.d.), who in his day won all hearts and convinced all
judgments. ‘Some persons,’ says Epictetus, one of his fellow-pupils,
‘having seen a philosopher, and having heard one speak like Euphrates—
and yet who can speak like him?—wish to be philosophers themselves[120].’
Pliny made his acquaintance in his native land, and was filled with affection
for the man. He found his style dignified and sublime; but especially he
noticed its sweetness, which attracted even his opponents. His personal
appearance was even more charming; he was tall, handsome, and the
proprietor of a long and venerable beard. His private life was beyond
reproach, and he was devoted to the education of his family of two sons and
one daughter[121]. He appears to have completely achieved the
reconciliation of philosophy with worldly success.
More ascetic in temper was Dio of Prusa (circ. 40-117 a.d.), who was
first an opponent but afterwards a follower of Musonius[122]. A Stoic in
theory, a Cynic in practice, he assumed the shabby cloak, and wandered as a
physician of souls. His eloquence succeeded in calming a mutiny of soldiers
which followed on the death of Domitian, and won for him from a
following generation the title of the ‘golden-mouthed.’ He was held in high
honour both by Nerva and by Trajan. A large number of his harangues are
still extant.[123]
Epictetus. 133. The influence of such teachers was at any rate
widespread, and if we suspect that Stoicism was already
losing its intensive force as it extended the sphere of its influence, in this it
did but obey what we shall see to be its own law of creative activity[124]. We
still have to consider the two teachers who are of all the most famous and
the most familiar; not however because they most truly express the
substance of Stoicism, but because they have most deeply touched the
feelings of humanity. These are Epictetus of Hierapolis (circ. 50-130 a.d.)
and Marcus Aurelius, who later succeeded to the principate. The contrast
between their positions has often excited comment, since Epictetus was
born a slave, and only obtained his freedom in mature years, that is, after
the death of Nero in 68 a.d. In reality it is characteristic of the times that so
many men of foreign and even servile origin rose to positions of eminence
and became the associates and teachers of men of high official rank. In the
great slave households, in particular, of imperial Rome unequalled
opportunities lay open to talent; the ‘educational ladder’ was everywhere set

up to encourage the youth to make the best of his gifts. Further, just as
young nobles were frequently enamoured of slave girls, so far superior to
the ladies of their own class in wit, gentleness of manners, and loyalty in
the face of all terrors and temptations[125]; so their elders found a delight in
the company of the thoughtful and intellectual men who came to the front
through the competition of the slave schools. Thus the emperor Claudius
chose his ministers amongst his freedmen, provoking thereby the sneers of
the Roman aristocracy, but greatly advancing the good government of the
Roman empire; and it was Epaphroditus, himself a freedman of Nero, who
sent the young Epictetus to study at the feet of Musonius Rufus. Epictetus
was a man of warm feelings and clear head; his addresses, recorded for us
by his hearer Arrian, serve admirably to stimulate the domestic virtues and
to keep alive the religious spirit; but his teaching lacks the force which
befits the training of a statesman or a king. In logic he inclines too much to
suspense of judgment, in ethics to resignation. But he did not altogether
miss the Socratic force: in his youth he had gone about inquiring of his
neighbours if their souls were in good health, and even when they replied
‘What is this to you, my good man? Who are you?’ he had persisted in
giving trouble. Only when they raised their hands and gave him blows had
he recognised that there was something wanting in his method[126]. Other
young philosophers, he felt, lacked this energy, and were men of words, not
deeds[127]. Like other philosophers, he was expelled from Rome by
Domitian in a.d. 89, when he retired to Nicopolis; there he gave lectures till
the time of his death[128].
His Cynism. 134. Epictetus was a vigorous opponent of the group
of young philosophers who delighted to display their
talent upon the intricacies of the Stoic logic, and in his early youth he was
taken to task by his teacher Musonius for underrating this part of
philosophy[129]. He came however to see the great importance of a thorough
training in the methods of reasoning, so that in practical life a man should
distinguish the false from the true, as he distinguishes good coins from bad.
In physics he lays stress chiefly on theology, and the ‘will of God’ fills a
large place in his conception of the government of the world. In his
treatment of practical ethics he makes free use of illustrations from the
social life of his own day: he finds examples of Socratic strength in the
athlete and the gladiator; and he makes it clear that the true philosopher is

not (as many believe the Stoics to hold) a man devoid of natural feeling, but
on the contrary affectionate and considerate in all the relations of life. He
has a special respect for the Cynic, who appears in his lectures not as the
representative of a differing philosophical system, but as philanthropist,
teacher, comforter, and missionary. There is indeed in the addresses of
Epictetus a complete fusion of Stoicism with Cynism; and we trace in them
pictures not only of the Cynic system as a whole, but also of individual
teachers like Antisthenes and Diogenes, profoundly different from and
much more human than the representations of them familiar through other
literature; they are in fact pictures of Cynic teachers passed down or
idealized by the members of their own sect. By their side stand the pictures
of Ulysses the sage and Heracles the purger of the world, as they must have
been described from generation to generation by Cynic orators to their
hearers amongst the poor and the unhappy.
Arrian. 135. In the second century a.d. the professed teachers
of Stoicism must have been very numerous; with the
death of Domitian persecution had passed away. The philosophers were
everywhere held in high esteem, and in turn their whole influence was used
in support of the existing state of society and the official religion. In the
early part of the century Flavius Arrianus (circ. 90-175 a.d.) is the most
eminent of Stoics; and it was noted that his relation to his teacher Epictetus
much resembled that of Xenophon to Socrates. To him we owe the
publication of the ‘discourses’ (διατριβαί) which he heard Epictetus deliver.
In a.d. 124, when lecturing at Athens, he won the favour of the emperor
Hadrian, and was appointed by him to high public offices, in which he
shewed himself a wise administrator and a skilful general; in a.d. 130 he
received the consulship; and later he withdrew to his native town of
Nicomedia in Bithynia, where he filled a local priesthood and devoted
himself to the production of works on history and military tactics. To Stoic
doctrine he made no direct contribution.
Rusticus. After Arrian had given up the teaching of philosophy
for public life Q. Junius Rusticus succeeded to the
position he left vacant. To him, amongst other teachers belonging to various
philosophical schools, was entrusted the education of the future emperor M.
Aurelius, who gives us the following picture of the teaching he received:

‘From Rusticus, I first conceived the need of moral
correction and amendment; renounced sophistic ambitions
and essays on philosophy, discourses provocative to virtue,
or fancy portraitures of the sage or the philanthropist;
learned to eschew rhetoric and poetry and fine language; not
to wear full dress about the house, or other affectations of
the kind; in my letters to keep to the simplicity of his own,
from Sinuessa, to my mother; to be encouraging and
conciliatory towards any one who was offended or out of
temper, at the first offer of advances upon their side. He
taught me to read accurately, and not to be satisfied with
vague general apprehension; and not to give hasty assent to
chatterers. He introduced me to the memoirs of Epictetus,
presenting me with a copy from his own stores[130].’

In Rusticus we may confidently trace a successor of the school of
Musonius and Epictetus.
Marcus Aurelius. 136. M. Aurelius Antoninus Pius (121-180 a.d.) is
commonly spoken of as ‘the philosopher upon the
throne,’ but this description may be misleading. Aurelius was in the first
instance a Roman prince; to the institutions of Rome and to his own
position as their chief representative he owed his chief allegiance. He was
undoubtedly an apt pupil of the courtly philosophers by whom he was
surrounded; he deliberately chose philosophy in preference to rhetoric, and
of the various schools of philosophy his judgment ranked Stoicism highest.
He was fairly well instructed, but by no means learned, in its doctrines; he
adhered with sincerity, but without ardour, to its practical precepts. In the
leisure hours of a busy life it was his comfort and his relaxation to express
his musings in the form of philosophic reflections. But his attitude towards
Stoicism is always that of a judge rather than that of an advocate; and much
that the school received as convincing reasoning he rejected as ingenious
pleading. Hence a large part of Stoic doctrine, and almost the whole of its
detailed instruction, disappears from his view; but we have the advantage
that the last of the Stoic writers brings out into clearer relief those features
of this philosophy which could still rivet attention in his own time, and

which therefore form part of the last message of the ancient world to the
coming generations.
His belief in the 137. It follows at once from the judicial attitude of
cosmos. Marcus Aurelius that he cannot countenance the Stoic
claim to certainty of knowledge. The objection of
opponents that the wise man, who alone (according to Stoic theory)
possesses such knowledge, is nowhere to be found, is sustained:

‘Things are so wrapped in veils, that to gifted
philosophers not a few all certitude seems unattainable. Nay
to the Stoics themselves such attainment seems precarious;
and every act of intellectual assent is fallible; for where is
the infallible man[131]?’

Yet Aurelius does not relapse into scepticism. One doctrine at least is so
convincing that he cannot for a moment doubt it; it does after all shine forth
as true by its own light. It is that all things are ultimately one, and that man
lives not in a chaos, but in a cosmos:

‘All things intertwine one with another, in a holy bond;
scarce one thing is disconnected from another. In due
coordination they combine for one and the same order. For
the world-order is one made out of all things, and god is one
pervading all, and being is one, and law is one, even the
common reason of all beings possessed of mind, and truth is
one: seeing that truth is the one perfecting of beings one in
kind and endowed with the same reason[132].’

From the belief in a cosmos he is led on to a trust in Providence;
theoretically, because the doctrine of the chance clashing of atoms is out of
harmony with the belief in ultimate unity; practically, because in such a
conviction only man can find a starting-point for his own activity. The
choice is to him all-important; either Fortune or Reason is king, and claims
allegiance from all.

‘Is it the portion assigned to you in the universe, at which
you chafe? Recall to mind the alternative—either a
foreseeing providence, or blind atoms—and all the
abounding proofs that the world is as it were a city[133].’
‘The world is either a welter of alternate combination and
dispersion, or a unity of order and providence. If the former,
why crave to linger on in such a random medley and
confusion? why take thought for anything except the
eventual “dust to dust”? why vex myself? do what I will,
dispersion will overtake me. But on the other alternative I
reverence, I stand steadfast, I find heart in the power that
disposes all[134].’

His piety. 138. Aurelius makes full use of the Stoic proofs of the
existence of the gods, but it soon appears to us that his
attachment to the established religion was not in any way founded upon
philosophical arguments. In discussing this point he displays a certain heat
which we have not yet had occasion to notice:

‘If indeed they [the gods] take no thought for anything at
all—an impious creed—then let us have done with sacrifice
and prayer and oaths, and all other observances by which we
own the presence and the nearness of the gods[135].’

Finally, he breaks away altogether from philosophy and rests his
convictions on personal experience:

‘To those who press the question, “Where have you seen
the gods, whence your conviction of their existence, that you
worship them as you do?” I reply—first, they are visible
even to the bodily eye; secondly, neither have I set eyes
upon my soul, and yet I do it reverence. So it is with the
gods; from my continual experience of their power, I have
the conviction that they exist, and yield respect[136].’

One further argument he held in reserve; the sword, the cross, and the
stake for the ‘atheists’ who refused to be convinced. He was, after all, a
king[137].
Ethics. 139. In ethics, Aurelius states the main principles of
Stoicism with clearness; but he altogether ignores the
Stoic paradoxes, and does not trouble himself with any detailed theory of
the virtues and vices. Firmness of character is to him the supreme good.

‘Be like the headland, on which the billows dash
themselves continually; but it stands fast, till about its base
the boiling breakers are lulled to rest. Say you, “How
unfortunate for me that this should have happened”? Nay
rather, “How fortunate, that in spite of this, I own no pang,
uncrushed by the present, unterrified at the future!” The
thing might have happened to any one, but not every one
could have endured it without a pang[138].’

But in spite of these doctrines, we trace throughout his pages a tinge of
melancholy. Too apt a pupil of Epictetus, he had learnt from him the
principles of submission and resignation, but he had not acquired the joyous
confidence of an older period, through which the wise man, even if a slave,
felt himself a king. Rather, though a king, he felt himself in truth a slave
and a subject to the universe that was his master. He would not go against
the universal order, but he hardly felt the delight of active cooperation. In
this sense he represents to us the decadence of Stoicism, or (to put it more
correctly) Stoicism coloured by the decadence of Rome.
Absorption of the 140. On the question of continued existence after
soul. death Aurelius takes up and emphasizes the teaching of
Epictetus, ignoring the fact that other Stoic teachers,
from Zeno to Seneca, had taken larger views or at least allowed themselves
an ampler language. There had been, indeed, a change in the point of view.
The early Stoics, occupied with the question of physics, had insisted upon
the indestructibility of substance, and the reuniting of the ‘spirit’ (πνεῦμα)
with the all-pervading spirit from which it came at the beginning. The
Roman school concerned itself more with the question of individuality and

personality. Accepting fully the principle that that which is born must die, it
comes to the definite conclusion that that which we trace from the mother’s
womb through infancy and youth, through success and failure in life,
through marriage and the family ties onwards to weakness and dotage, must
reach its end in death. The ‘I’ cannot survive the body. The future existence
of the soul, if such there be, is no longer (as with Seneca) a matter of joyful
expectation, but of complete indifference.
Epictetus had expressed this with sufficient clearness:

‘Death is a change, not from the state which now is to that
which is not, but to that which is not now. Shall I then no
longer exist? You will not exist, but you will be something
else, of which the world now has need; for you also came
into existence, not when you chose, but when the world had
need of you[139].’

Aurelius constantly repeats the doctrine in varied forms:

‘You exist but as a part inherent in a greater whole. You
will vanish into that which gave you being; or rather, you
will be re-transmuted into the seminal and universal
reason[140].’
‘Death put Alexander of Macedon and his stable boy on a
par. Either they were received into the seminal principles of
the universe, or were alike dispersed into atoms[141].’

Preparation for 141. The saddened outlook of Marcus Aurelius upon
death. life harmonizes well with the resignation with which he
contemplates a death, which for himself individually
will be the end. Hence it is that his reflections so often make the thought of
death a guiding principle of ethics; he who has learnt to look forward
calmly to his last act has learnt thereby to abide patiently all the troubles
which postpone it. Thus the last message of the princely philosopher, as of
his predecessor, is that men should ‘bear and forbear’:

‘Contemn not death, but give it welcome; is not death too
a part of nature’s will? As youth and age, as growth and
prime, as the coming of teeth and beard and grey hairs, as
begetting and pregnancy and the bearing of children, as all
other operations of nature, even such is dissolution.
Therefore the rational man should not treat death with
impatience or repugnance or disdain, but wait for it as one of
nature’s operations[142].’
‘O for the soul ready, when the hour of dissolution comes,
for extinction or dispersion or survival! But such readiness
must proceed from inward conviction[143].’
‘Serenely you await the end, be it extinction or
transmutation. While the hour yet tarries, what help is there?
what, but to reverence and bless the gods, to do good to
men, “to endure and to refrain”? and of all that lies outside
the bounds of flesh and breath, to remember that it is not
yours, nor in your power[144].’

His yearnings. 142. Aurelius was no teacher of Stoicism in his time:
his thoughts are addressed to himself alone[145]. But the
happy accident that has preserved this work, which for nine centuries was
lost to sight[146], enables us to obtain a view of this philosophy from which
otherwise we should have been shut out. We do not go to Aurelius to learn
what Stoic doctrine was; this is taken for granted throughout the book; but
we can see here how it affected a man in whom the intellectual outlook was
after all foreshortened by sympathies and yearnings which had grown up in
his nature. The traditional criticism of the school as being harsh,
unsympathetic, unfeeling, breaks to pieces as we read these ‘thoughts’;
rather we find an excess of emotion, a surrender to human weakness. A
study of Stoicism based on the works of Aurelius alone would indeed give
us but a one-sided picture; but a study in which they were omitted would
certainly lack completeness. He is also our last authority. In the centuries
which succeeded, other waves of philosophic thought washed over
Stoicism, and contended in turn with more than one religion which pressed
in from the East. Yet for a long time to come Stoic principles were faithfully

inculcated in thousands of Roman homes, and young men taught in
childhood to model their behaviour upon the example of Zeno, Cleanthes,
and Epictetus formed the salt of the Roman world. If in riper years they
joined, in ever increasing numbers, the Christian church, they brought with
them something which the world could not afford to lose.

FOOTNOTES
[1] Dill, Roman Society, p. 340.
[2] ‘omnis natura habet quasi viam quandam et sectam quam sequatur’ Cic. N.
D. ii 22, 57. ‘est tuae prudentiae sequi eius auctoritatem, cuius sectam atque
imperium secutus es’ ad Fam. xiii 4, 2. ‘The sense of the word has been
obscured by a false popular etymology which has connected the word with the
Latin secare ‘to cut,’ Skeat, Etymological Dictionary, p. 537.
[3] See above, § 111.
[4] ‘dicebat modesta Diogenes et sobria’ A. Gellius N. A. vi (vii) 14, 10.
[5] For a full account of his life and teaching see Schmekel, Philosophie der
mittleren Stoa, pp. 1-9.
[6] Strabo xiv 5, 16.
[7] Ind. Stoic. Herc. col. 51.
[8] ‘discipulus Antipatri Panaetius’ Cic. Div. i 3, 6.
[9] ‘credamus igitur Panaetio a Platone suo dissentienti? quem omnibus locis
divinum, quem sapientissimum, quem sanctissimum, quem Homerum
philosophorum appellat’ Tusc. disp. i 32, 79.
[10] Fin. iv 28, 79.
[11] ‘tristitiam atque asperitatem fugiens Panaetius nec acerbitatem
sententiarum nec disserendi spinas probavit’ ib.
[12] ἦν γὰρ ἰσχυρῶς φιλοπλάτων καὶ φιλοαριστοτέλης, ἀ[λλὰ κ]αὶ
παρ[ενέδ]ωκε τῶν Ζηνων[είω]ν τι δι[ὰ τὴ]ν Ἀκαδημίαν καὶ [τὸν Περίπ]ατον.
Ind. Herc. col. 61, quoted by Schmekel, p. 379.
[13] ‘quam vellem Panaetium nostrum nobiscum haberemus! qui cum cetera,
tum haec caelestia vel studiosissime solet quaerere’ Cic. Rep. i 10, 15.
[14] ‘ain’ tandem? etiam a Stoicis ista [de optima republica] tractata sunt? non
sane, nisi a [Diogene Stoico] et postea a Panaetio’ Leg. iii 6, 14.
[15] See below, § 310, note 52.
[16] ‘[accepi] Publi Africani in legatione illa nobili Panaetium unum omnino
comitem fuisse’ Cic. Ac. ii 2, 5.
[17] This date is determined on circumstantial evidence by Schmekel, pp. 2, 3.

[18] ‘Scylax Halicarnasseus, familiaris Panaeti, excellens in astrologia,
idemque in regenda sua civitate princeps’ Cic. Div. ii 42, 88.
[19] ‘omnes enim trahimur et ducimur ad cognitionis et scientiae cupidinem;
in qua excellere pulchrum putamus; labi autem, errare, nescire, decipi, et malum
et turpe ducimus’ Off. i 6, 18; ‘cum sit is [Panaetius], qui id solum bonum
iudicet, quod honestum sit, quae autem huic repugnent specie quadam utilitatis,
eorum neque accessione meliorem vitam fieri, neque decessione peiorem’ ib. iii
3, 12.
[20] ‘quod summum bonum a Stoicis dicitur, id habet hanc, ut opinor,
sententiam, cum virtute congruere semper, cetera autem, quae secundum
naturam essent, ita legere, si ea virtuti non repugnarent’ Off. iii 3, 13.
[21] ‘Panaetius, cum ad Q. Tuberonem de dolore patiendo scriberet ...
nusquam posuit non esse malum dolorem’ Fin. iv 9, 23; see however below, §
322, note 132.
[22] See below, ch. xiii.
[23] ‘cuius [veri investigationis] studio a rebus gerendis abduci contra
officium est. virtutis enim laus omnis in actione consistit; a qua tamen fit
intermissio saepe, multique dantur ad studia reditus’ Cic. Off. i 6, 19.
[24] He was however a skilled grammarian; see Schmekel, p. 207.
[25] He wrote a book ‘on providence’; how far he or Posidonius is Cicero’s
authority for the treatment of the subject in Nat. de. ii has been much disputed;
on this point see Schmekel, p. 8, n. 4.
[26] ‘id de quo Panaetium addubitare dicebant, ut ad extremum omnis mundus
ignesceret’ Cic. N. D. ii 46, 118.
[27] Schmekel, p. 309, and below, § 211.
[28] Παναίτιος πιθανωτέραν εἶναι νομίζει καὶ μᾶλλον ἀρέσκουσαν αὑτῷ τὴν
ἀϊδιότητα τοῦ κόσμου ἢ τὴν τῶν ὅλων εἰς πῦρ μεταβολήν Ar. Did. fr. 36 (Diels).
[29] Schmekel, p. 309.
[30] ‘vim esse divinandi [Panaetius] dubitare se dixit’ Cic. Div. i 3, 6.
[31] He came from Apamea in Syria, but is often described as ‘of Rhodes,’ as
the latter part of his life was spent there.
[32] Schmekel, pp. 9, 10.
[33] ib. p. 428.
[34] Reid, Cic. Acad. Introd. p. 5.
[35] Cic. Tusc. disp. ii 25, 61.
[36] N. D. i 44, 123; ii 34, 88.
[37] ‘ecce Posidonius, ut mea fert opinio, ex his qui plurimum philosophiae
contulerunt’ Sen. Ep. 90, 20.
[38] See below, § 195.
[39] Also the de Divinatione and the first half of Tusc. disp. i; Schmekel, p.
98, etc.

[40] ‘de divinatione libros edidit ... quinque noster Posidonius’ Cic. Div. i 3, 6.
[41] ‘animi vitae necessitatibus serviunt, disiunguntque se a societate divina,
vinclis corporis impediti’ ib. 49, 110.
[42] ‘deflagrationem futuram aliquando caeli atque terrarum’ ib. 49, 111.
[43] See § 322, note 132.
[44] ὁ Ποσειδώνιος [τὸ τέλος εἶναι εἶπε] τὸ ζῆν θεωροῦντα τὴν τῶν ὅλων
ἀλήθειαν καὶ τάξιν Clem. Strom. ii p. 416 b (Schmekel, p. 270); see also below,
§ 321, note 125.
[45] Schmekel, p. 62.
[46] See below, § 214.
[47] Diog. L. vii 90; Schmekel, pp. 291, 292.
[48] Diog. L. vii 127.
[49] Schmekel, p. 294.
[50] See below, § 352.
[51] ‘plenus est sextus liber de officiis Hecatonis talium quaestionum; sitne
boni viri in maxima caritate annonae familiam non alere? in utramque partem
disputat, sed tamen ad extremum utilitate officium dirigit magis quam
humanitate’ Cic. Off. iii 23, 89.
[52] ib. 23, 90.
[53] ‘nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, | quo me cunque rapit
tempestas, deferor hospes’ Hor. Ep. i 1, 14 and 15.
[54] ‘qui erant Athenis tum principes Stoicorum’ Cic. Ac. ii 22, 69; cf. de Or. i
11, 45.
[55] Ind. Stoic. Herc. col. 52 (Schmekel, p. 16); but see Pauly-Wissowa s. v.
[56] i.e. the earlier part of the first century b.c.
[57] Diog. L. vii 34.
[58] ‘mihi nimis videtur submisisse temporibus se Athenodorus, nimis cito
refugisse’ Sen. Dial. ix 4, i.
[59] ‘apud Athenodorum inveni:—tunc scito esse te omnibus cupiditatibus
solutum cum eo perveneris, ut nihil deum roges, nisi quod rogare possis palam’
Ep. 10, 5. But it is possible that the quotations are from the younger
Athenodorus.
[60] Cic. Off. ii 24, 86; but some think that Cato’s friend was an earlier
Antipater.
[61] Plutarch, Cato minor 65-67 and 69.
[62] Reid, Academics, p. 2.
[63] ‘Diodoto quid faciam Stoico, quem a puero audivi, qui mecum vivit tot
annos, qui habitat apud me, quem et admiror et diligo?’ Cic. Ac. ii 36, 115.
[64] ad Att. ii 20, 6.

[65] Tusc. disp. v 39, 113.
[66] vii 1, 2, 24 and 28.
[67] ‘verba haec Hieroclis Stoici, viri sancti et gravis: ἡδονὴ τέλος, πόρνης
δόγμα· οὐκ ἔστιν πρόνοια, οὐδὲ πόρνης δόγμα’ A. Gellius, N. A. ix 5, 8.
[68] For a fair-minded estimate of Cicero’s services to philosophy see Reid,
Academics of Cicero, pp. 10-28.
[69] See next section.
[70] ‘de tertio [cum utile et honestum inter se pugnare videantur] nihil scripsit
[Panaetius]. eum locum Posidonius persecutus. ego autem et eius librum
arcessivi, et ad Athenodorum Calvum scripsi, ut ad me τὰ κεφάλαια mitteret’
Cic. ad Att. xvi 11, 4. ‘Athenodorum nihil est quod hortere; misit enim satis
bellum ὑπόμνημα’ ib. 14, 4.
[71] He was head of the Academy at Athens, where Cicero heard him in the
year 79-78 b.c., and was patronized by Lucullus.
[72] ‘eadem dicit quae Stoici’ Cic. Ac. ii 22, 69. ‘erat, si perpauca mutavisset,
germanissimus Stoicus’ ib. 42, 132. See further J. S. Reid, Academics of Cicero,
Introd. pp. 15-19, and notes to Ac. ii 39, 123 and 40, 126.
[73] ‘Brutus tuus, auctore Aristo et Antiocho, non sentit hoc [sc. nihil esse,
nisi virtutem, bonum]’ Tusc. disp. v 8, 21. ‘si addubitas, ad Brutum transeamus,
est enim is quoque Antiochius’ ad Att. xiii 25, 3. See also below, § 432.
[74] ‘tu nihil errabis, si paulo diligentius (ut quid sit εὐγένεια, quid ἐξοχή
intelligas), Athenodorus Sandonis filius quid de his rebus dicat, attenderis’ ad
Fam. iii 7, 5.
[75] For the identification of the writer Didymus with Areius the
‘philosophus’ of Augustus, see Diels, Proleg. pp. 80-88.
[76] ‘[Augustus] eruditione etiam varia repletus per Arei philosophi
filiorumque eius Dionysi et Nicanoris contubernium’ Suet. Aug. 89.
[77] Sat. ii 6, 73-76.
[78] Sen. Dial. vi 4 and 5; see below, § 377.
[79] ‘Empedocles, an Stertinium deliret acumen’ Hor. Ep. i 12, 20; ‘insanis et
tu, stultique prope omnes, | si quid Stertinius veri crepat’ Sat. ii 3, 32 and 33.
[80] Teuffel, Röm. Lit. 250, 4.
[81] ‘ne me Crispini scrinia lippi | compilasse putes’ Hor. Sat. i 1, 120 and
121.
[82] Teuffel, as above, 3.
[83] Hor. Sat. ii 3.
[84] Hor. Ep. i 1, 108.
[85] ‘sublimem altioremque humano fastigio [Attalum] credidi’ Sen. Ep. 108,
13.
[86] Sen. Ep. 108, 14-16.
[87] ib. 110, 14-20.

[88] ‘Attalus Stoicus dicere solebat; malo me fortuna in castris suis quam in
deliciis habeat’ ib. 67, 15.
[89] Sen. Rhet. Suas. 2, 12.
[90] ‘teneros tu suscipis annos | Socratico, Cornute, sinu ... tecum etenim
longos memini consumere soles, | et tecum primas epulis decerpere noctes. |
unum opus et requiem pariter disponimus ambo, | atque verecunda laxamus seria
mensa. | ... nescio quod certe est, quod me tibi temperat, astrum’ Pers. Sat. v 36-
51.
[91] See above, § 124.
[92] Sen. Ep. 108, 17.
[93] ib. 13-23.
[94] ‘sapientem esse me dico? minime’ Dial. xii 5, 2; ‘multum ab homine
tolerabili, nedum a perfecto, absum’ Ep. 57, 3; ‘ego in alto vitiorum omnium
sum’ Dial. vii 17, 4.
[95] ‘si respublica corruptior est quam ut adiuvari possit, ... non nitetur
sapiens in supervacuum’ ib. viii 3, 3.
[96] ‘in hoc me recondidi et fores clusi, ut prodesse pluribus possem.
posterorum negotium ago. illis aliqua, quae possint prodesse, conscribo.
salutares admonitiones litteris mando, esse illas efficaces in meis ulceribus
expertus. rectum iter, quod sero cognovi et lassus errando, aliis monstro’ Ep. 8, 1
to 3.
[97] ‘cuius libros adtingere nullum pretium operae sit, quod oratio eius
vulgaria videatur et protrita, res atque sententiae aut inepto inanique impetu sint
aut levi et causidicali argutia, eruditio autem vernacula et plebeia’ A. Gellius, N.
A. xii 2, 1.
[98] Quint. Inst. Orat. x 1, 125-158.
[99] ‘potioribus praeferri non sinebam’ ib. 126.
[100] ‘tum autem hic solus fere in manibus adulescentium fuit’ ib. 125.
[101] ‘eandem sententiam miliens alio atque alio amictu indutam referunt’
Fronto, p. 157.
[102] How capable Seneca was of continuous exposition we may gather from
his excellent discussion of the ‘causes’ of Aristotle and Plato, in Epistle 65: see
below.
[103] ‘non quia mihi legem dixerim nihil contra dictum Zenonis Chrysippive
committere, sed quia res ipsa patitur me ire in illorum sententiam’ Sen. Dial. viii
3, 1; ‘nostram [opinionem] accipe. nostram autem cum dico, non adligo me ad
unum aliquem ex Stoicis proceribus. est et mihi censendi ius’ ib. vii 3, 2.
[104] ‘si omnia argumenta ad obrussam coeperimus exigere, silentium
indicetur; pauca enim admodum sunt sine adversario’ Sen. N. Q. iv 5, 1.
[105] ‘non tempero mihi, quominus omnes nostrorum ineptias proferam’ ib. iv
6, 1.
[106] See the notes to § 177.

[107] ‘si hominem videris interritum periculis, intactum cupiditatibus, inter
adversa felicem, in mediis tempestatibus placidum, ex superiore loco homines
videntem, ex aequo deos, non subibit te eius veneratio?... non potest res tanta
sine adminiculo numinis stare’ Ep. 41, 4 and 5.
[108] See below, § 209, note 112.
[109] ‘idem facit sapiens; nocituram potentiam vitat, hoc primum cavens, ne
cavere videatur’ Ep. 14, 8; ‘circumspiciendum ergo nobis est, quomodo a vulgo
tuti esse possimus’ ib. 9.
[110] A. Gellius, N. A. v 1, 3 and 4.
[111] Epict. Disc. iii 23, 29.
[112] Stob. iii 1, 48.
[113] ib. 5, 21.
[114] Specimens are given below, especially in ch. xv.
[115] Tac. Ann. xiv 59; Henderson, Nero, p. 143.
[116] Tac. Ann. xv 71.
[117] Hist. iii 81.
[118] ‘reipublicae haud dubie intererat Vitellium vinci’ ib. 86.
[119] See below, § 447.
[120] Disc. iii 15, 8; Manual 29.
[121] Pliny, Ep. i 10.
[122] ‘quid nostra memoria Euphrates, Dio, Timocrates, Athenodotus? quid
horum magister Musonius? nonne summa facundia praediti, neque minus
sapientiae quam eloquentiae gloria incluti extiterunt?’ Fronto, Ep. ad Aur. i 1
(Naber, p. 115).
[123] See Leben und Werke Dion’s von Prusa, by H. von Arnim. Berlin, 1898.
[124] See below, § 216.
[125] See the story of Epicharis in connexion with the conspiracy of Piso, in
Tac. Ann. xv 57.
[126] Epict. Disc. ii 12, 17 to 25.
[127] ‘plerosque istos, qui philosophari viderentur, philosophos esse
eiuscemodi “ἄνευ τοῦ πράττειν, μέχρι τοῦ λέγειν”; id significat “factis procul,
verbis tenus” A. Gellius, N. A. xvii 19, 1.
[128] ib. xv 11, 4 and 5.
[129] Epict. Disc. i 7, 32 and 33.
[130] M. Aurelius, To himself, i 7 (Rendall’s translation).
[131] To himself, v 10.
[132] ib. vii 9.
[133] ib. iv 3.

[134] M. Aurelius, To himself, vi 10.
[135] ib. vi 44.
[136] See further, §§ 457 and 458.
[137] M. Aurelius, To himself, xii 28.
[138] ib. iv 49.
[139] Epict. Disc. iii 24, 93 and 94.
[140] M. Aurelius, To himself, iv 14.
[141] ib. vi 24.
[142] ib. ix 3.
[143] ib. xi 3.
[144] ib. v 33.
[145] Rendall, M. Aurelius, Introd. p. cxii.
[146] ib. cxv.

CHAPTER VI.
OF REASON AND SPEECH.

Parts of philosophy. 143. The history of Greek philosophy, even before the
time of Zeno, leads naturally to its division into the three
parts of logic, physics, and ethics[1]. The Ionic philosophers had chiefly
occupied themselves with the nature and history of the universe, that is,
with the problems of physics. The sophists were greatly concerned with
questions as to the validity of human knowledge, that is, with logic.
Socrates shared this interest, but attached greater importance to the
discussion of moral activities, that is, to ethics. It is however not clear when
a formal division into these three parts was first made. Cicero attributes it to
the immediate followers of Plato in the Academic school; others assign it
definitely to Xenocrates[2]. The Peripatetics and Stoics both adopted the
division, but whereas the former assigned to Logic an inferior position,
making it an introduction to philosophy, the Stoics insist that it is a part of
philosophy itself[3]; and that of the three parts it comes first in the order of
study, ‘as in the measuring of corn we place first the examination of the
measure[4].’ It must not however be thought that the three parts of
philosophy can be separately treated, for they are intertwined[5]; so that in
treating of Logic we shall constantly have need to assume a general
knowledge of Stoic views both on physics and ethics. Logic is subdivided
into ‘dialectic,’ which deals with reasoning, and ‘rhetoric,’ the art of speech.
The relation between reason and speech was in ancient times, as now, a
matter of perplexity; but it may be taken as a fundamental position of
Stoicism that the two should always be in agreement.
Knowledge is 144. Stoicism, as one of the positive and dogmatic
attainable. schools, assumes that knowledge is attainable. Since this
is the very point on which Socrates never reached
assurance, except on the one particular that he himself knew nothing, it was
a matter of primary importance to the Stoics to make good this position;
more especially since they held (this time in agreement with Socrates) that
virtue is but another form of knowledge. Yet the Stoics could not agree with

the Cynics, that true knowledge can be imparted without a study of its
method[6]. Knowledge is, in their view, a high privilege derived by man
from his divine ancestry, and shared by him with the deity alone; and the
whole duty of man may be summed up by saying that he should keep
upright his reason[7]. They therefore devoted themselves with special zeal to
this part of philosophy[8], and were accordingly nicknamed ‘the
dialecticians[9].’ Their aim in this was solely the ascertainment and
imparting of truth; but the common view that their style was in consequence
harsh and repellent will be found to need considerable qualification[10].
Are the senses true? 145. The chief argument for the certainty of
knowledge is that we assume as much in the practical
affairs of life[11]; and (as we have already seen) Aristo found it ridiculous
that his Academic neighbour should not even know who he was[12]. Against
it is the fact that men frequently disagree even as to what they see, and
commonly distinguish between what is known to them and what ‘seems’ to
be this or that. Hence Epictetus well defines the function of dialectic as

‘a perception of the disagreement of men with one
another, and an inquiry into the cause of this disagreement; a
condemnation and distrust of that which only seems, and
some kind of investigation of that which seems, as to
whether it rightly seems: and the discovery of some rule
(κανών)[13].’

Of all kinds of knowledge that which comes through the senses appears
to the ordinary man most worthy of confidence, and of the five senses that
of sight seems to the philosopher the most divine[14]. In consequence, the
whole controversy hinges on the question whether the eyes can be trusted.
The positivist argues that the evidence of sight is so plain and
unmistakeable that man, if he had the choice, could wish for no better
informant. The sceptic replies that nevertheless, if a straight oar be placed
partly in the water, it appears to the eyes to be bent; and that the feathers on
a dove’s neck, though really alike, appear to the eyes as many-coloured[15].
To deal with such questions we must examine closely the nature of
sensation.

Process of 146. The Stoics fancifully derive the word αἴσθησις
sensation. (‘sensation’) from εἴσθεσις (‘storage’); it is therefore,
strictly speaking, the process by which the mind is
stored[16]; but it is also, from an opposite point of view, the process by
which the mind reaches out towards an external object[17]. From the object
(αἰσθητόν) proceed waves which strike upon the sense-organ
(αἰσθητήριον); this impact is called a ‘sensation’ in a narrower sense. At the
same time there proceeds from the mind (which is the ruling part or
‘principate’ of the soul), a ‘spirit’ or thrill which goes out to meet this
impact; and this spirit and its operation are also called ‘sensation[18].’ As a
result of the contact of these two waves, and simultaneously with it, there is
produced in the soul an effect like the imprint of a seal[19], and this imprint
is the φαντασία or ‘mind-picture.’ That the process may be sound, it is
necessary that the intellect be in a healthy state, and further that the organ of
sense be healthy, the object really there, and the place and the manner in
accord[20]. But we must carefully distinguish between the single sensation
and the mind-picture. A flash of light, a cry, a touch, a smell, a thrill of
pleasure or pain, is always that which the senses declare it to be[21]; here
there is no possibility of error; so understood ‘the sensations are always
true[22].’ But if we go in each case a step further; if we say ‘that is white,’
‘this is sweet,’ ‘this is musical,’ ‘this is fragrant,’ ‘that is rough,’ we are now
dealing with mind-pictures, not with ‘sensations’ in the strict sense[23]. And
as to the mind-pictures we agree with the Academics that things are not
always what they seem; ‘of the mind-pictures some are true, some are
false[24].’
The criterion of 147. In order then that we may distinguish the true
clearness. mind-picture from the false, we have need of a ‘rule’
(κανών) or ‘criterion’ (κριτήριον). The true mind-picture
is a stirring of the soul, which reveals both what is taking place in the soul
and the object which has caused this: just as light reveals both itself and the
objects that lie within its range[25]. On the other hand the false mind-picture
is an empty twitching of a soul which is not in a healthy condition[26]; no
real object corresponds to it, but to that which appears to be an object
corresponding to it we give the name ‘phantasm[27].’ When Orestes thinks
he sees the Furies leaping upon him, though his sister assures him that in

real truth he sees nothing, the vision of the Furies is a phantasm. The
appearances of dreams are equally phantasms[28]. Now a true mind-picture
differs from that of a phantasm by being clearer; or, in other words, the
distinctive note of a true mind-picture is its ‘clearness’ (ἐνάργεια,
perspicuitas)[29]. Clearness then is a quality which attaches itself to a true
vision in a way in which it can never attach itself to a work of phantasy[30].
To this clearness the mind cannot but bow[31]; it is therefore (so far as our
study has proceeded) the criterion of truth[32].
Assent. 148. The mind-picture as such is not within a man’s
control; but it rests with him to decide whether he will
give it his ‘assent’ (συγκατάθεσις, adsensio or adsensus)[33]. This assent is
therefore an act of the soul, in its capacity as will; and can only be rightly
exercised by a soul properly strung, that is, possessed of due tension. Assent
wrongly given leads to ‘opinion’ (δόξα, opinio), and all wrong assent is
error or ‘sin’ (ἁμαρτία, peccatum). This error may take place in two
directions, either by a hasty movement of the will (προπίπτειν), giving
assent to a picture which is not really clear; or by feebleness of will, which
leads to assent in a false direction (διαψεύδεσθαι)[34]. Even haste however
is a form of weakness, so that we may say that all opining is a weak form of
assent[35]. To ensure a right assent due attention should be given to each of
its parts; it includes (i) the intention of mastering the object (πρόθεσις); (ii)
careful attention directed to the object, or ‘application’ (ἐπιβολή); and (iii)
assent in the narrower sense[36]. Apart from assent, three courses remain
open: these are (i) ‘quiescence’ (ἡσυχάζειν, quiescere): (ii) ‘suspense of
judgment’ (ἐπέχειν, adsensum sustinere), which is a settled quiescence; and
(iii) negation[37].
Comprehension. 149. Close upon assent follows ‘comprehension’
(κατάληψις, comprehensio): this is the ratification of the
assent given, the fixing irrevocably in the mind of the picture approved.
This picture now becomes a ‘comprehension-picture’ (καταληπτικὴ
φαντασία), and as such a unit of knowledge. We may understand thereby
that the mind has grasped the external object[38], and this is the plain
meaning of Zeno’s simile; or we may say that the object has gained a hold
upon the mind, and has left its stamp upon it. Both interpretations are
consistent with Stoic doctrine: but the former view, which represents the

soul as active and masterful, undoubtedly expresses the more adequately the
meaning of the school[39]. From this mutual grasp there follows an
important physical deduction. Since only like can grasp like, the soul must
be like the object, and the popular dualism of mind and matter is (to this
extent) at an end[40]. Still this likeness is not complete; and the soul in
sensation does not grasp the object from every point of view, but only so far
as its own nature permits in each case[41]. For this reason the trained
observer and the artist grasp far more of the object than the ordinary
man[42].
From sensation to 150. The soul, having grasped single mind-pictures,
reason. retains its hold upon them by memory[43]; the frequent
exercise of which keeps each picture fresh and
[44]
complete . As the air, when an orchestra is performing, receives the
impression of many sounds at the same time, and yet retains the distinctive
tone of each[45], so the soul by concurrent alterations of its texture preserves
its hold on the separate pictures it has once grasped. Fresh operations of
soul now supervene. First, from the comparison of many like pictures,
comes ‘experience’ (ἐμπειρία, experientia)[46]; out of other comparisons,
‘similitude’ (ὁμοιότης), as ‘Socrates’ from his portrait; and ‘analogy’
(ἀναλογία, proportio), as ‘the centre of the earth’ from that of other spheres;
‘transference’ (μετάθεσις, translatio), as ‘eyes in the heart’; ‘composition’
(σύνθεσις, compositio), as ‘a Hippocentaur’; ‘opposition’ (ἐναντίωσις,
transitio), as ‘death’ from life; ‘deprivation’ (κατὰ στέρησιν), as ‘a
cripple[47].’ All these are based on the general principle of likeness and
unlikeness, and may be summed up under the general heading of ‘reason’s
work of comparison’ (collatio rationis)[48], or shortly, of reason (λόγος)[49].
Sensation shews us the present only; but reason brings the past and the
future within our view, and points out to us the workings of cause and
effect[50].
Perceptions and 151. With the mind-pictures (φαντασίαι, visa) which
Conceptions. are derived from sensation we may now contrast the
‘notions’ (ἔννοιαι, notiones or intellegentiae) which are
derived from the combination of sensation and reasoning; the former
correspond generally to ‘perceptions,’ the latter to ‘conceptions’ in the
language of modern philosophy[51]. But each of the Stoic terms is also used

in a wider sense which includes the other. The sensory pictures are
inscribed upon the mind as upon a blank sheet from birth upwards; in this
sense they may well be called ‘entries on the mind’ (ἔννοια from ἐν νῷ)[52].
On the other hand the conceptions may be called ‘rational mind-
pictures’[53]; quite as much as the sensory mind-pictures they need the
prudent assent of the will before they become ‘comprehensions,’ when they
are once more units capable of entering into further combinations and
becoming part of scientific knowledge. If then for the sake of clearness we
use the modern terms, we may say that perceptions correspond generally to
individual objects which have a real existence, whilst conceptions
correspond to classes of things, which (according to the Stoics) have no real
existence in themselves, but only a sort of existence in our minds. Thus the
‘ideas’ of Plato are all conceptions, subjectively but not objectively
existent[54]. So far as our study has gone, all conceptions are based on
perceptions: therefore all the elements of knowledge either come from
sense and experience solely, or from sense and experience combined with
reasoning[55]; and the most important reasoning process is that comparison
of like perceptions which in this philosophy takes the place of induction[56].
Preconceptions. 152. But even if all ‘conceptions’ are ultimately
derived from ‘perceptions,’ it does not follow that in
each particular case the mind commences de novo to collect and shape its
material. On the contrary, it is clear that not only all practical life, but also
all philosophy, takes for granted a great many matters which are either
allowed by general consent, or at least assumed by the thinker; and these
matters are mostly of the nature of class-conceptions. If it is stated that ‘the
consul entered Rome in a chariot drawn by four horses,’ we assume that the
ideas expressed by ‘consul,’ ‘chariot,’ ‘four,’ ‘horses,’ are matters of general
consent, and we may go on to assume that the person of the consul and the
locality called ‘Rome’ are also already known to the speaker and his
hearers. The general term in the post-Aristotelian writers for such legitimate
assumptions is ‘preconception’ (πρόληψις, anticipatio or praesumptio). The
precise meaning of this term (of which the invention is ascribed to
Epicurus[57]) appears not to be always the same. Most commonly the
‘preconception’ is a general term or conception, and therefore to the Stoics
it is one variety of the ἔννοια; it is ‘a mental shaping, in accordance with
man’s nature, of things general’[58]. All such preconceptions are

foreshadowings of truth, especially in so far as they correspond to the
common judgment of mankind[59]; and the art of life consists in correctly
applying these presumptions to the particular circumstances with which
each individual man has to deal[60]. If the preconceptions are rightly
applied, they become clearer by use, and thus attain the rank of true
knowledge by a process of development or ‘unravelling’ (enodatio)[61].
As to the nature of a preconception, there is a great difference between
Epicurus and the Stoics. Epicurus identifies all the terms ‘preconception,’
‘comprehension,’ ‘right opinion,’ ‘conception,’ and ‘general notion,’ and
maintains that each of these is nothing but memory of a sensation
frequently repeated[62]; the Stoics however hold that preconceptions are
established by the mind[63], and (so far as they are common to all men) by
the universal reason. This difference is fundamental. Epicurus, as a
materialist in the modern sense, explains perception as a bodily function,
and ‘conceptions’ of every kind as mere echoes of such bodily functions.
The Stoics on the other hand recognise at each stage the activity of mind,
and this in increasing degree as we proceed to the higher levels of thought.
Notions of inner 153. We now approach the most critical point in the
growth. Stoic theory of knowledge. Is it possible for man to
possess knowledge which is not derived, either directly
or indirectly, through the organs of sense? Such a question cannot be
answered by any appeal to single Stoic texts; it needs an appreciation of the
whole philosophic outlook, and upon it depend the most vital principles of
the system. Let us then first consider, on the supposition that such
knowledge exists, what its nature is, what its content, and how it is attained
by individual men. Knowledge cut off from the sense-organs is cut off from
all human individuality; it is therefore the expression of the common reason
(κοινὸς λόγος), and its parts are ‘common notions’ (κοιναὶ ἔννοιαι or
προλήψεις), shared by gods and men, but by men only so far as they are
partakers of the divine nature. The principal content of such knowledge is
also clear; it includes the conception of what is morally good, and the
beliefs that gods exist and that the world is governed by their
providence[64]. Lastly, as of all general conceptions, the rudiments or rough
outlines only of these beliefs are inborn in men, by virtue of their divine
ancestry; whence they are called ‘innate notions’ (ἔμφυτοι ἔννοιαι, insitae

notiones)[65]. These notions in their full development are not attainable by
children at all, nor by men till they attain to reason, that is, till they become
wise men[66].
‘Proofs’ of inborn 154. The Stoics are naturally reluctant to admit that
notions. doctrines which it is impious to deny are nevertheless
unattainable except by perfect wisdom; but their whole
system points inevitably to this conclusion. But there are intermediate
stages between the rough inborn outlines of these truths and their ripe
completeness. As man grows in reason, he becomes increasingly able to
appreciate contributory truths, derived from the combination of perception
and reasoning, that is, by processes such as ‘analogy’ and ‘comparison,’
which point in the direction of the supreme beliefs. In this sense, and (it is
here suggested) in this sense only, can there be ‘proofs’ (ἀποδείξεις) of
these[67]. Only in the crowning moment of that probation which is described
later on, at the moment of conversion, these truths finally flash forth, stirred
up indeed by secondary evidence, but really rooted in the man’s deepest
nature[68]; they then reveal themselves to the soul with an illuminating
power which is all their own, but which carries with it the most complete
conviction. Ordinary men must meanwhile somehow make shift with
reflections or pale copies of this knowledge, to which however the name of
common or inborn notions can also be applied.
The inward touch. 155. The list of ‘common notions’ is doubtless not
limited to the high philosophical principles which we
have mentioned; for instance it must include such mathematical principles
as ‘two and two make four,’ ‘a straight line is the shortest distance between
two points,’ ‘a three-sided figure has three angles,’ and so forth. With these
however we have little direct concern. Of more interest to us is another kind
of perception[69] recognised by the Stoics as well as by other schools of
philosophy, that called the ‘inward touch’ (ἐντὸς ἁφή)[70]. By this the soul
becomes aware of its own workings, most obviously of its pleasure and
pain. The doctrine of the ‘inward touch’ is of great philosophical
importance, for it breaks down the dualism of subject and object, the barrier
between the knowing and the known. Since these are the same in the
specific cases named, the door is open to the conclusion that everywhere
there is a kinship between the two, and that without this knowledge would
be without firm foundation. By this kinship we may also explain the fact

that direct communications are made by the deity to man, as by dreams,
oracles and augury[71].
Knowledge; the 156. Thus it appears that the elements of knowledge,
parts and the whole.according to the Stoics, are sensations, perceptions,
conceptions or notions, and general or inborn notions.
As in the other parts of the Stoic philosophy, we shall regard this fourfold
division as indicating generally the ground covered, and not as setting up
definite lines of demarcation. The same material may be analyzed from
other points of view, as for instance in the study of words, in which we shall
find a division into objects, statements, conditional statements, and
syllogisms. The elements may also be combined in various ways. A
combination or ‘system’ (σύστημα) which is directed towards a useful or
pleasurable object, such as music or grammar, is called an ‘art’ (τέχνη, ars)
[72]
; and arts are attainable by ordinary men. The wise man, on the other
hand, is not necessarily acquainted with the several arts; his practice is to
‘keep quiet’ when matters are discussed which require such special
knowledge. The combination of all knowledge in one all-embracing system
is ‘science’ (ἐπιστήμη, scientia); the only science in the full sense is
philosophy[73]; and in this system no part can be at variance with any other
part[74]. The elements of knowledge also acquire the character of science,
when they are found to be parts of this compacted system, and therefore
incapable of coming into conflict with any other part[75]; and in particular
we find the term ‘science’ predicated of comprehensions which are firmly
established and cannot be refuted by any argument[76]. In the language of
Zeno’s simile, over the closed fist that grasps the object is placed the other
hand, keeping it with firmness and assurance in its place[77]; or, to use a
comparison first suggested in ridicule of Stoicism, but which by the
progress of architectural skill has since then been made less damaging,
science is like a firm and immoveable building constructed upon a shifting
foundation[78]. Finally ordinary men can reach comprehension, but only the
wise man can attain to science[79].
The criterion 157. We revert to the difficult problem of the criterion
reviewed. of truth, that is, the discovery of a rule by which the true
can separated from the false. Our authorities differ
greatly as to what the Stoic criterion is; and this vacillation must have

placed the Stoics at a great disadvantage in their controversy with the
Academics, who maintain that there is no criterion. The most usual
statement is that the ‘comprehensive mind-picture’ (καταληπτικὴ φαντασία)
is the criterion; this view is expressly attributed to Chrysippus, Antipater,
and Apollodorus[80]. As we have seen, the meaning of this is that a true
mind-picture can be distinguished from one that is false by the note of
clearness, and this general doctrine can be traced back to Zeno[81]. It
appears at first sight to provide a criterion which can be applied by the
percipient at the moment when it is needed, and it was doubtless intended to
be a practical tool in this sense; but under the pressure of criticism the
Stoics were frequently compelled to modify it. They could not but admit
that in the case of dreams and drunken visions it is only at a later moment
that the lack of clearness can be appreciated[82]; whereas on the other hand
a picture may be perfectly clear, and yet the percipient, because of some
prepossession, may not realize this. Such was the case when Hercules
brought Alcestis from the world below; her husband Admetus received a
true mind-picture of her, but put no confidence in it, because he knew her to
be dead. It follows that no mind-picture can be implicitly trusted for itself;
for our sense organs may be clouded, or our previous experience in conflict
with it. If the Academics urged that the sure note of clearness is not to be
found in the senses[83], the Stoics admitted as much when they now said
that a true comprehensive picture must come from a real object[84], when
they added the words that ‘no objection must arise[85]’; thus really
admitting that it must be not only persuasive, but also such as no reasoning
process can shake, and such as has been examined from all sides[86]. Thus
they shifted the centre of certainty from the single comprehension to the
general field of science; they still held to it in theory, but no longer
maintained its practical application. For this too they had the authority of
the older masters. For we learn on the authority of Posidonius that ‘some of
the older Stoics’ held the true criterion to be ‘right reason’ (ὀρθὸς λόγος)
[87]
, and this is equivalent to saying that only the deity and the wise man
possess the secret[88]. In a loose sense any important part of the Stoic theory
of reason may be said to be a criterion; thus Chrysippus again said that ‘the
criteria are sensation and preconception,’ and Boethus set up many criteria,
as mind, sense, science, and (in practical matters) appetite[89].

General consent. 158. Seeing that the full assurance of truth is not at
every moment attainable, it is necessary to be contented
from time to time with something less complete. Amongst such tests the
‘general consent of mankind’ plays an important part, especially in
connexion with the dogma ‘that gods exist.’ We may indeed well believe
that this criterion was not originally suggested by revolutionary
philosophers, but rather by conservative advocates of an established
religion; and therefore we are not surprised to see it emphasized first by
Posidonius and afterwards by Seneca[90]. General consent is however by
itself no proof of truth, but at most an indication of the presence of a
‘common notion’ in its rough shape. If however we see that the ‘common
notion’ grows stronger and more clear every day, and if it is the more firmly
held as men approach the standard of wisdom, it becomes a strong
support[91].
Probability the 159. From a very early period, as we have already
guide of life. indicated, Stoic teachers accepted probability as the
guide of life in its details, being perhaps aided by the
happy ambiguity of the expression ‘reasonableness’ (τὸ εὔλογον), which
suggests formally the pursuit of reason, but in practice is a justification of
every course of which a plausible defence can be brought forward. Ptolemy
Philopator, we are told, jestingly put wax fruit before Sphaerus at his table,
and when Sphaerus tried to eat it cried out that he was giving his assent to a
false mind-picture. Sphaerus replied that he had not assented to the picture
‘this is fruit,’ but only to the picture ‘this is probably fruit[92].’ Antipater of
Tarsus, when he explained that the very essence of virtue lay in the choice
of natural ends upon probable grounds[93], was felt to be giving way to
Carneades[94]. Panaetius justified the maintaining of that which is plausible
by the advocate, and Cicero, whose own conscience was not at ease in the
matter, was glad enough to quote so respectable an authority on his own
behalf[95]. In the Roman imperial period a growing spirit of humility and
pessimism led to a general disparagement of human knowledge, centring in
attacks on the trustworthiness of the senses. So Seneca speaks of the ‘usual
weakness’ of the sense of sight[96], and Marcus Aurelius feels that ‘the
organs of sense are dim and easily imposed upon[97].’ The older Stoics had
admitted the frequent errors of the senses[98], but they had been confident
they could surmount this difficulty. Their latest disciples had lost the

courage to do this, and in consequence the practice of ‘suspension of
judgment,’ which before had been the exception[99], became with them the
rule. Nevertheless Epictetus, who alone amongst these later Stoics was an
ardent student of dialectics, held fast to the main principle that certainty is
attainable. ‘How indeed’ he said ‘perception is effected, whether through
the whole body or any part, perhaps I cannot explain, for both opinions
perplex me. But that you and I are not the same, I know with perfect
certainty[100].’
Grammar. 160. Having now dealt with the theory of knowledge,
we may consider briefly the subordinate sciences (or
rather ‘arts’) of Grammar, Logic (in the narrower sense), and Style. Here we
may leave the technical divisions and subdivisions of the Stoics; for these
matters are substantially independent of the main lines upon which the
ancient philosophies parted company, and have for us only a secondary and
historical interest. The Stoics distinguish five parts of speech: ‘name’
(ὄνομα, nomen), as ‘Diogenes’; ‘class-name’ (προσηγορία, appellatio), as
‘man, horse’[101]; ‘verb’ (ῥῆμα, verbum); ‘conjunction’ (σύνδεσμος,
coniunctio); and ‘article’ (ἄρθρον, articulus). The last they define naïvely as
a little word which is all ending, and serves to distinguish the cases and
numbers[102]. To the list of the parts of speech Antipater added the ‘mixed
part’ or participle (μεσότης). The noun has four cases (πτώσεις), the
‘upright case’ (πτῶσις εὐθεῖα, casus rectus; this is of course a contradiction
in terms); and the ‘oblique’ cases (πλάγιαι), that is the ‘class’ case (γενική),
the ‘dative’ (δοτική), and the ‘effect’ case (αἰτιατική). The ῥῆμα or verb is
identical with the κατηγόρημα or ‘predicate,’ and may take the ‘active’ form
(ὀρθά), the ‘passive’ (ὕπτια), or the ‘neuter’ (οὐδέτερα); some verbs also
express action and reaction, and are called ‘reflexive’ (ἀντιπεπονθότα). The
Stoics also distinguished the tenses. Time (χρόνος) being of three kinds,
past (παρῳχημένος), present (ἐνεστώς), and future (μέλλων), we have the
following tenses which are ‘definite’ (ὡρισμένοι): the ‘present imperfect’
(ἐνεστὼς ἀτελής), the ‘past imperfect’ (παρῳχημένος ἀτελής), the ‘present
perfect’ (ἐνεστὼς τέλειος), and the ‘past perfect’ (παρῳχημένος τέλειος); in
addition to these we have the ‘indefinite’ tenses, the future (μέλλων), and
the past indefinite, called simply indefinite (ἀόριστος)[103].
Theories of speech. 161. So far we find in the Stoic system the general
framework of the grammar of the period, much of it

adapted with modifications from Aristotle. In some other details points of
real grammatical or philosophical interest are raised. Such is the
controversy between ‘anomaly,’ the recognition of the individuality of each
word in its flexion, and ‘analogy,’ in which the validity of the rules of
declension and conjugation is insisted upon. Two Stoic masters, Chrysippus
and Crates of Mallos, took up the cause of ‘anomaly[104].’ Further the Stoics
held that all correct language exists by nature (φύσει), and not by
convention (θέσει), as Aristotle had maintained; the elements of language
being imitations of natural sounds[105]. Further, they held that the natural
relation between ‘things’ (σημαινόμενα, significata) and the words that
express them (σημαίνοντα, significantia) can frequently be determined by
etymology; for instance φωνή ‘voice’ is φῶς νοῦ ‘the mind’s lamp,’ αἰών
‘age’ is ἀεὶ ὄν ‘enduring for ever[106].’ Like Heraclitus and Aristotle, the
Stoics distinguished between ‘thought’ (λόγος ἐνδιάθετος, ratio) and
‘speech’ (λόγος προφορικός, oratio), which the Greek word λόγος tends to
confuse[107]; thought is immaterial, but speech, as consisting of air in
motion, is body[108]. Young children and animals do not possess real
speech, but only ‘a sort of speech[109].’
Propositions and 162. Words in combination form statements,
Syllogisms. questions, wishes, syllogisms, and so forth[110]; there is
therefore no clear line drawn between what we call
syntax and logic respectively. Whenever we have a complete combination
of words expressing that which must either be false or true, as ‘Hannibal
was a Carthaginian,’ ‘Scipio destroyed Numantia,’ we call it a ‘statement’ or
‘proposition’ (ἀξίωμα)[111]; for phrases of all kinds we have the more
general term ‘phrase’ (λεκτόν, id quod dicitur)[112]. Of special interest is the
conditional sentence (συνημμένον), which has two parts, the conditional
clause (ἡγούμενον) and the contingent clause (λῆγον). The conditional or
leading clause always contains a sign (σημεῖον), by means of which we
reach proof: thus in saying ‘if it is day, it is light’ we mean that ‘day’ is a
sign of light. Proof is ‘speech on every subject gathering what is less clear
from that which is more clear[113].’ Its most important form is the syllogism,
of which Chrysippus recognises five forms:

(i) if A, then B; but A, therefore B.
(ii) if A, then B; but not B, therefore not A.

(iii) not A and B together; but A, therefore not B.
(iv) either A or B; but A, therefore not B.
(v) either A or B; but not A, therefore B[114].

All these matters admit of endless qualifications, subdivisions, and
developments, and were therefore serviceable to those Stoics who were
before all things makers of books[115]. Examples of Stoic syllogisms have
been given above[116].
Fallacies. 163. Closely connected with the theory of the
syllogism is the enticing subject of the ‘resolution of
fallacies’ (σοφισμάτων λύσις), which the Megarians had brought within the
range of philosophy. To this subject the Stoics gave much attention[117]. The
most famous fallacy is that of the ‘heap’ (σωρίτης, acervus); ‘if two are few,
so are three; if three, then four; and so forth.’ In this Chrysippus took a
special interest[118]; his reply was to keep still[119]. Another is the ‘liar’
(ψευδόμενος, mentiens); ‘when a man says “I lie,” does he lie or not? if he
lies, he speaks the truth; if he speaks the truth, he lies[120].’ On this subject
Chrysippus wrote a treatise, which Epictetus thought not worth reading[121].
Seneca gives us examples of other fallacies, which also are verbal
quibbles[122]. Of an altogether different kind are those problems in which
the question of determinism as opposed to moral choice is involved. Such is
the ‘reaper,’ which maintains ‘either you will reap or you will not reap; it is
not correct to say “perhaps you will reap.”’ Such again is the ‘master-
argument’ of Diodorus the Megarian, directly aimed against every moral
philosophy[123]. These difficulties we shall discuss later as touching the
supreme problems which are presented to the human reason[124].
Definition. 164. The scientific study of syllogisms and fallacies
promises at first sight to be a guide to truth and a way of
escape from error, but experience shews it nevertheless to be barren. It has
however an advantage in securing a careful statement of teaching, and for
this purpose was much used by Zeno and Chrysippus. The later members of
the school realized that this advantage could be more simply gained by the
practice of careful definition (ὅρος, definitio). Antipater thus defined
definition itself: ‘definition is an expression which elaborates in detail
without falling short or going too far[125].’ He and all other Stoics of his

time gave numerous definitions of the most important terms used in the
system, such as God, fate, providence, the supreme good, virtue, and so
forth; and these are of great value in giving precision to their doctrine.
Style. 165. In considering Style we first notice the
distinction between dialectic in the narrower sense, in
which statements are made in the shortest and most precise form, and
rhetoric, in which they are expanded at length[126]. Zeno compared one to
the closed fist, the other to the open palm[127]. Both Cleanthes and
Chrysippus wrote upon rhetoric, and it appears to have become a tradition
to ridicule their teaching, chiefly on the ground of the novel terms which
the Stoics introduced, as προηγμένα, κοσμόπολις[128]. But it is exactly in
these new-fangled words that we observe one of the chief aims of the Stoic
theory of style, namely the use of words which precisely and exclusively
correspond to the objects described (κυριολογία, proprietas verborum), and
which therefore lead up to transparent clearness of speech (σαφήνεια,
pellucida oratio)[129]. To this clearness the study of grammar is
contributory; ‘barbarisms’ (faults in spelling and pronunciation) must be
avoided, with proper help from the doctrines of ‘anomaly’ and ‘analogy’;
for the Stoics learnt in time that neither of these is exclusively true. Equally
important is the avoidance of ‘solecisms,’ or faults in syntax. In this way a
pure use of language (Ἑλληνισμός, Latinitas) is attained; this is largely
based upon the example of older writers, such as Homer in Greek, and Cato
the elder in Latin[130], but not to such an extent as to employ words not
commonly intelligible. But little more is needed; the Stoic will say what he
has to say with ‘brevity’ (συντομία, brevitas); the graces of style will be
represented by ‘becomingness’ (πρέπον, decorum) and ‘neatness’
(κατασκευή), the latter including euphony. These virtues of speech are
sufficient for speaking well, which is neither more nor less than speaking
truthfully[131]; for the Stoic needs only to instruct his hearer, and will not
lower himself either to amuse him or to excite his emotions[132]. Style has
three varieties, according as it is employed in the council, in the law-courts,
or in praise of goodness and good men[133]; in the last there was no doubt
greater room allowed for that expansiveness of speech which the Stoics
specially designated as ‘rhetoric.’
The Stoic orator.

166. The ‘Stoic style’ was a severe intellectual and moral discipline. The
speaker was called upon under all circumstances to speak the truth, the
whole truth, and nothing but the truth. He could hold back nothing from his
audience, even though his words might be offensive to their religious
opinions, their patriotic feelings, or their sense of decency; he could add no
word which would touch their sympathies or kindle their indignation in the
direction he himself might wish. He had always before his eyes the example
of Socrates’ defence before the Athenian jury and its result. The Stoic
appeared before his audience as a brave, sane, and rather rugged speaker,
painfully ill-equipped in all those arts which the circumstances
demanded[134]. Even the Stoics of the transition period, in spite of their
Academic leanings and their literary acquirements, made this impression at
Rome. Diogenes, who had himself done much to elaborate the theory of
style, was noted as a quiet and self-restrained speaker[135]. The influence of
Panaetius may be traced in his friend Lucilius, who in his book on style is
never tired of ridiculing the artifices of rhetoricians. Then followed a
succession of these reserved speakers, which we shall trace in another
chapter, leading up to Cato of Utica, by far the best-known and the most
ridiculed of them all[136].
It is not easy to form a fair judgment of the merits of the Stoic style. It
must be admitted that the works of Chrysippus are not readable; but on the
other hand Antipater, Panaetius, Posidonius, Musonius Rufus, and Epictetus
were all writers or speakers of great attractiveness[137].
Paradox. 167. In connexion with style we may call attention to
the important function of paradoxes (παράδοξα,
inopinata), that is, propositions contrary to common opinion. Since all
philosophies conflict with common opinion, they must necessarily include
many paradoxes[138]. The chief Stoic paradoxes are those which were
borrowed directly from the Cynic school, and indirectly from the teaching
of Socrates[139]: and Cicero devotes a special work to their defence. He
includes the following: (i) that only what is honourable is good; (ii) that
virtue is sufficient for happiness; (iii) that right actions and offences are
equal; (iv) that all foolish men are mad; (v) that the wise man alone is free
and every foolish man a slave; (vi) that the wise man alone is rich. These of
course include the very pith and marrow of Stoic ethics; and the form is
calculated to arrest the attention of the crowd and to challenge defiantly its

cherished opinions. The Stoics of literary taste and social position usually
shew some distaste for paradoxes, and prefer to state their teaching in ways
more obviously reasonable. But it should hardly be necessary to explain
that no paradox is complete in itself, but each needs to be interpreted
according to the principles of the school which propounds it. In proportion
as the doctrines of any school win general recognition, its paradoxes tend to
find ready acceptance, and may ultimately become truisms[140].
The treatment of myths as allegories[141] may also be considered as the
use of a kind of paradox; this we shall find it most convenient to discuss in
connexion with Stoic views upon the nature of the gods.
Dangers of logic. 168. The study of logic is at first sight dismal and
repulsive; when progress has been made in it, it seems
illuminating; in the end it becomes so alluring, that the would-be
philosopher may easily be lost for ever in its mazes[142]. The early Stoics
had pressed this discipline upon their pupils; those of the Roman period,
themselves (with the exception of Epictetus) weak dialecticians, never
cease to warn their hearers against its fascinations. So Seneca tells us that
many logical inquiries have nothing to do with real life[143]; and that the
older Stoics had wasted much time over them[144]; Epictetus complains that
his hearers never get beyond the resolving of syllogisms[145], and M.
Aurelius thanks the gods that he never wasted his time in this way[146].
Stoic and Academic 169. It was a favourite contention of Cicero, adopted
logic. from his teacher Antiochus, that the Stoic dialectic was
no original system, but only a modification of the views
of the old Academy[147]. Such a conclusion seems partly due to the fact that
the Stoics of his own time had largely borrowed from the Academic system
in detail; and partly to the overlooking by Antiochus of an essential
difference of spirit between the two schools. Plato is speculative, Zeno
positive; Plato plays with a dozen theories, Zeno consistently adheres to
one. Plato ranks the mind high, Zeno the will; Plato bases his system on the
general concept, Zeno on the individual person or object. It would seem that
no contrast could be more complete. Nor does Zeno’s theory agree with that
of Epicurus. Both indeed are positive teachers, and hold that the senses are
messengers of truth. But here Epicurus stops, whilst Zeno goes on. We have
to understand rightly the functions and limitations of the senses, or we shall

quickly glide into error; we have also to learn that the senses are but
servants, and that the mind rules them as a monarch by divine right,
coordinating the messages they bring, shaping them according to its own
creative capacity, even adding to them from the material it has derived from
its source. The Stoic theory is in fact a bold survey of the results of the
reflection of the human mind upon its own operations; it has, as we might
expect, many gaps, a good deal of overlapping description, and some
inconsistencies. To sceptical objections it is of course unable to give
answers which are logically satisfactory; but its general position proved
acceptable to men who sought in philosophy a guide to practical life.
Questions of 170. In the approximation between Stoicism and the
temperament. Academy which characterizes the first century b.c., the
Stoic logic obtained in the end the upper hand; and the
logic of the so-called ‘old Academy’ founded by Antiochus is in all
essentials that of the Stoics. Nevertheless the objections urged against it by
Cicero represent not only his reason but also his sentiments. The positive
system appears at its best in the education of children; and even at the
present day the theory of knowledge which is tacitly adopted in schools is
substantially that of the Stoics. It leads to careful observation, earnest
inquiry, and resolute choice; and thus lays the foundation of solidity of
character. But it must be admitted that it also works in the direction of a
certain roughness and harshness of disposition. Not only is the Stoically-
minded man lacking in sympathy for beliefs different from his own, which
he is bound to regard as both foolish and wicked; but he is also blind to that
whole side of the universe which cannot be reduced to syllogistic shape.
Thus we may account for the indifference or hostility with which most
Stoics regarded both literature and art[148]. The Academic, on the other
hand, even if he lacked moral firmness and saw too clearly both sides of
every question, was saved by his critical powers from extreme assertions
and harsh personal judgments, and had a delicate appreciation of the finer
shadings of life. Thus behind the formal differences of the two schools there
lies a difference of character. We have long since learnt that the
fundamental questions between the two schools are incapable of solution by
the human mind, and we can therefore appreciate the one without
condemning the other. In practical life each theory has its appropriate
sphere; but the Romans were hardly in the wrong when in matters of doubt
they leaned towards the Stoic side.

FOOTNOTES
[1] ‘[veteres illi Platonis auditores] totam philosophiam tres in partes
diviserunt; quam partitionem a Zenone esse retentam videmus’ Cic. Fin. iv 2, 4.
[2] Sext. math. vii 16 (Arnim ii 38).
[3] οἱ Στωϊκοὶ ἄντικρυς μέρος αὐτὴν ἀπεφαίνοντο Philopon. ad Anal. pr. f. 4a;
Stein, Psychologie ii 93. See also Arnim ii 49 and 49a.
[4] Epict. Disc. i 17, 6.
[5] Diog. L. vii 40.
[6] ἀρέσκει οὖν [τοῖς Κυνικοῖς] τὸν λογικὸν τόπον περιαιρεῖν ... καὶ τὴν
ἀρετὴν διδακτὴν εἶναι Diog. L. vi 103 and 105.
[7] τίς οὖν ὕλη τοῦ φιλοσόφου; μὴ τρίβων; οὔ, ἀλλὰ ὁ λόγος· τί τέλος; μή τι
φορεῖν τρίβωνα; οὔ, ἀλλὰ τὸ ὀρθὸν ἔχειν τὸν λόγον Epict. Disc. iv 8, 12.
[8] ‘Stoici ... cum vehementer amaverint artem disputandi’ Aug. Civ. De. viii
7.
[9] Zeller, Stoics etc., p. 66.
[10] See below, §§ 164, 165.
[11] ‘hi, qui negant quicquam posse comprehendi ... totam vitam evertunt
funditus’ Cic. Ac. ii 10, 31.
[12] See above, § 93.
[13] Epict. Disc. ii 11, 13.
[14] ‘Stoici deum visum vocantes, quod optimum putabant’ Chalc. in Tim. 266
(Arnim ii 863).
[15] Cic. Ac. ii 7, 19.
[16] Arnim ii 458.
[17] ‘mens enim ipsa, quae sensuum fons est atque etiam ipsa sensus est,
naturalem vim habet, quam intendit ad ea, quibus movetur’ Cic. Ac. ii 10, 30. On
the other hand the Epicureans treat the senses as bodily, and sensation as
automatic.
[18] αἴσθησις δὲ λέγεται κατὰ τοὺς Στωϊκοὺς τό τε ἀφ’ ἡγεμονικοῦ πνεῦμα ἐπὶ
τὰς αἰσθήσεις διῆκον, καὶ ἡ δι’ αὐτῶν κατάληψις ... καὶ ἡ ἐνέργεια δὲ αἴσθησις
καλεῖται Diog. L. vii 52.
[19] Cleanthes called it ‘imprint’ (τύπωσις); Chrysippus, lest the word imprint
should be interpreted too mechanically, called it ‘alteration’ (ἀλλοίωσις) Sext.
math. vii 227, 372 (Arnim ii 56); ‘visum objectum imprimet illud quidem et
quasi signabit in animo suam speciem’ Cic. de Fato 19, 43.
[20] Sext. math. vii 424 (Arnim ii 68); ‘ita est maxima in sensibus veritas, si
et sani sunt ac valentes, et omnia removentur quae obstant et impediunt’ Cic. Ac.
ii 7, 19.

[21] ‘idem fit in vocibus, in odore, in sapore, ut nemo sit nostrum qui in
sensibus sui cuiusque generis iudicium requirat acrius’ ib.
[22] οἱ Στωϊκοὶ τὰς μὲν αἰσθήσεις ἀληθεῖς Aët. plac. iv 9, 4; ‘[sensuum] clara
iudicia et certa sunt’ Cic. Ac. ii 7, 19.
[23] ‘sequuntur ea, quae non sensibus ipsis percipi dicuntur, sed quodam
modo sensibus, ut haec: “illud est album, hoc dulce, canorum illud, hoc bene
olens, hoc asperum.” animo iam haec tenemus comprehensa, non sensibus’ ib. 7,
21.
[24] οἱ Στωϊκοὶ τὰς μὲν αἰσθήσεις ἀληθεῖς, τῶν δὲ φαντασιῶν τὰς μὲν
ἀληθεῖς, τὰς δὲ ψευδεῖς Aët. plac. iv 9, 4 (Arnim ii 78); ‘Zeno nonnulla visa esse
falsa, non omnia [dixit]’ Cic. N. D. i 25, 70.
[25] φαντασία μὲν οὖν ἐστι πάθος ἐν τῇ ψυχῇ γιγνόμενον, ἐνδεικνύμενον ἐν
αὑτῷ καὶ τὸ πεποιηκός· ... καθάπερ γὰρ τὸ φῶς αὑτὸ δείκνυσι καὶ τὰ ἄλλα τὰ ἐν
αὐτῷ περιεχόμενα, καὶ ἡ φαντασία δείκνυσιν ἑαυτὴν καὶ τὸ πεποιηκὸς αὐτήν
Aët. plac. iv 12, 1 (Arnim ii 54). The object which causes the φαντασία is
technically called the φανταστόν, but also ὑπάρχον Sext. math. vii 426.
[26] διάκενος ἑλκυσμὸς Aëtius plac. iv 12, 4.
[27] ib. 12, 5.
[28] φάντασμα μὲν γάρ ἐστι δόκησις διανοίας, οἵα γίνεται κατὰ τοὺς ὕπνους
Diog. L. vii 50.
[29] ‘visis [Zeno] non omnibus adiungebat fidem, sed iis solum quae
propriam quandam haberent declarationem earum rerum quae viderentur’ Cic.
Ac. i 11, 41; cf. § 105.
[30] On this point the controversy between Arcesilaus and Zeno hinged; see
above, § 84.
[31] ‘necesse est animum perspicuis cedere’ Cic. Ac. ii 12, 38.
[32] ‘perspicuitas illa, quam diximus, satis magnam habet vim ut ipsa per sese
ea quae sint nobis, ita ut sunt, indicet’ ib. 14, 45.
[33] ‘adsensio nostra erit in potestate’ Cic. Fat. 19, 43; ‘adsensio non [potest]
fieri nisi commota viso; tamen id visum proximam causam [habet], non
principalem’ ib. 18, 42; ‘[Zeno] adsensionem adiungit animorum, quam esse vult
in nobis positam et voluntariam’ Cic. Ac. i 11, 40.
[34] διττὰς γὰρ εἶναι δόξας, τὴν μὲν ἀκαταλήπτῳ συγκατάθεσον, τὴν δὲ
ὑπόληψιν ἀσθενῆ Stob. ii 7, 11 m (Pearson, Z. fr. 15): cf. Plut. Sto. rep. 47, 10.
[35] ‘opinationem autem volunt esse imbecillam adsensionem’ Cic. Tusc.
disp. iv 7, 15; ‘opinio quae [est] imbecilla et cum falso incognitoque communis’
Cic. Ac. i 11, 41; so Sext. math. vii 151 (Arnim ii 90).
[36] Epict. Disc. i 21, 2.
[37] ib. i 18, 1; Sext. math. vii 416.
[38] ἔστι δὲ αἴσθησις ἀντίληψις τῶν αἰσθητῶν Nem. nat. hom. vii p. 175 M
(Stein, Psych. ii 135).

[39] Cicero’s point of view appears to be that the mind-picture grasps the
object: ‘[visum] cum acceptum iam et adprobatum esset, [Zeno]
comprehensionem appellabat, similem eis rebus quae manu prehenderentur’ Cic.
Ac. i 11, 41. See further Stein, Psych. ii 174, and R. D. Hicks, Stoic and
Epicurean, p. 71.
[40] This view is expressed by Posidonius, who bases it on Plato’s Timaeus:
ὡς τὸ μὲν φῶς ὑπὸ τῆς φωτοειδοῦς ὄψεως καταλαμβάνεται, ἡ δὲ φωνὴ ὑπὸ τῆς
ἀεροειδοῦς ἀκοῆς, οὕτως ἡ τῶν ὅλων φύσις ὑπὸ συγγενοῦς ὀφείλει
καταλαμβάνεσθαι τοῦ λόγου Sext. Emp. math. vii 93. See also below, § 266.
[41] ‘comprehensio facta sensibus et vera esse [Zenoni] et fidelis videbatur;
non quod omnia, quae essent in re, comprehenderet, sed quia nihil quod cadere
in eam posset relinqueret’ Cic. Ac. i 11, 42.
[42] Diog. L. vii 51; ‘quam multa vident pictores in umbris et in eminentia,
quae nos non videmus!’ Cic. Ac. ii 7, 20.
[43] μνήμη θησαυρισμὸς οὖσα φαντασιῶν Sext. math. vii 373 (Arnim i 64);
‘[mens] alia visa sic arripit, ut his statim utatur; alia quasi recondit, e quibus
memoria oritur’ Cic. Ac. ii 10, 30.
[44] ‘quicquid frequens cogitatio exercet et renovat, memoriae nunquam
subducitur; quae nihil perdit, nisi ad quod non saepe respexit’ Sen. Ben. iii 2, 3.
[45] So substantially Chrysippus argued. See Sext. math. vii 231.
[46] ὅταν δὲ ὁμοειδεῖς πολλαὶ μνῆμαι γένωνται, τότε φαμὲν ἔχειν ἐμπειρίαν
Aët. plac. iv 11, 2.
[47] Diog. L. vii 52.
[48] The details of this list are variously given: e.g. ‘cum rerum notiones in
animo fiant, si aut usu aliquid cognitum sit, aut coniunctione, aut similitudine,
aut collatione rationis’ Cic. Fin. iii 10, 33.
[49] Diog. L. vii 52.
[50] ‘homo autem, quod rationis est particeps, per quam consequentia cernit,
causas rerum videt, earumque progressus et quasi antecessiones non ignorat,
similitudines comparat, et rebus praesentibus adiungit atque adnectit futuras;
facile totius vitae cursum videt’ Cic. Off. i 4, 11.
[51] So Zeller, Stoics etc., p. 79.
[52] ὅταν γεννηθῇ ὁ ἄνθρωπος, ἔχει τὸ ἡγεμονικὸν μέρος τῆς ψυχῆς ὥσπερ
χάρτην· εἰς τοῦτο μίαν ἑκάστην τῶν ἐννοιῶν ἐναπογράφεται Aët. plac. iv 11, 1.
The metaphor of the tabula rasa can be traced back to Plato and Aristotle, but in
this application was first used by Cleanthes. Locke presumably borrowed it from
the Stoics. It must not be thought that this metaphor implies passivity on the part
of the soul; as the Stoics use it, the soul is from the beginning actively
cooperating in obtaining impressions. See Stein, Psych. ii pp. 112 sqq., note 230.
[53] τῶν δὲ φαντασιῶν ... οὐκ αἰσθητικαὶ αἱ διὰ τῆς διανοίας, καθάπερ αἱ ἐπὶ
τῶν ἀσωμάτων Diog. L. vii 51.
[54] οἱ ἀπὸ Ζήνωνος Στωϊκοὶ ἐννοήματα ἡμέτερα τὰς ἰδέας ἔφασαν Aët. plac.
i 10, 5 (Arnim i 65); cf. Diog. L. vii 61.

[55] πᾶσα γὰρ νόησις ἀπὸ αἰσθήσεως γίνεται ἢ οὐ χωρὶς αἰσθήσεως, καὶ ἢ
ἀπὸ περιπτώσεως ἢ οὐκ ἄνευ περιπτώσεως Sext. math. viii 56 (Arnim ii 88); cf.
Diog. L. vii 52 and 53.
[56] ‘cetera autem similitudinibus [mens] constituit’ Cic. Ac. ii 10, 30.
[57] Cic. N. D. i 17, 44.
[58] ἔστι δ’ ἡ πρόληψις ἔννοια φυσικὴ τῶν καθόλου Diog. L. vii 54;
‘notionem appello quam Graeci tum ἔννοιαν tum πρόληψιν; ea est insita et
praecepta cuiusque formae cognitio, enodationis indigens’ Cic. Top. 7, 31; ‘nobis
notitiae rerum imprimuntur, sine quibus nec intellegi quicquam nec quaeri
disputarive potest’ Ac. ii 7, 21. See also Aët. plac. iv 11, 3. If the concept can
only be reached by special training, it must not be called πρόληψις.
[59] ‘There are certain things which men who are not altogether perverted see
by the common notions which all possess. Such a constitution of the mind is
named common sense (κοινὸς νοῦς)’ Epict. Disc. iii 6, 8. See also below, § 158.
[60] ‘We need discipline, in order to learn how to adapt the preconception of
what is reasonable or unreasonable to the several things conformably with
nature’ Epict. Disc. i 2, 6.
[61] See Cic. Top. above, note 58.
[62] Diog. L. x 33.
[63] ‘cetera autem similitudinibus [mens] constituit; ex quibus efficiuntur
notitiae rerum, quas Graeci tum ἐννοίας tum προλήψεις vocant’ Cic. Ac. ii 10,
30. As to the possibility of distinguishing the two terms see Prof. Reid’s note.
[64] See notes to the next section.
[65] ‘rerum plurimarum obscuras necessarias intelligentias enudavit [qu.
incohavit?], quasi fundamenta quaedam scientiae’ Cic. Leg. i 9, 26; ‘quae in
animis imprimuntur, de quibus ante dixi, incohatae intelligentiae, similiter in
omnibus imprimuntur’ ib. i 10, 30; ‘As to good and evil, beautiful and ugly ...
and what we ought to do and what we ought not to do, who ever came into the
world without having an innate idea of them?’ Epict. Disc. ii 11, 3.
[66] ὁ δὲ λόγος ... ἐκ τῶν προλήψεων συμπληροῦσθαι λέγεται κατὰ τὴν
πρώτην ἑβδομάδα Aët. plac. iv 11, 4; περὶ δὲ τὴν δευτέραν ἑβδομάδα ἔννοια
γίνεται καλοῦ τε καὶ κακοῦ ib. v 23, 1.
[67] ἡ δὲ κατάληψις γίνεται ... λόγῳ τῶν δι’ ἀποδείξεως συναγομένων, ὥσπερ
τὸ θεοὺς εἶναι καὶ προνοεῖν τούτους Diog. L. vii 52; ‘collatione rationis boni
notio facta est; cum enim ab iis rebus, quae sunt secundum naturam, ascendit
animus collatione rationis, tum ad notionem boni pervenit’ Cic. Fin. iii 10, 33;
‘nobis videtur observatio collegisse et rerum saepe factarum inter se collatio: per
analogian nostri intellectum et honestum et bonum iudicant. noveramus corporis
sanitatem; ex hac cogitavimus esse aliquam et animi. noveramus corporis vires;
ex his collegimus esse et animi robur’ Sen. Ep. 120, 4; ‘de bonis ac malis sensus
non iudicat; quid utile sit, quid inutile, ignorat. non potest ferre sententiam, nisi
in rem praesentem perductus est; ratio ergo arbitra est bonorum ac malorum’ ib.
66, 35.
[68] φυσικῶς δὲ νοεῖται δίκαιόν τι καὶ ἀγαθόν Diog. L. vii 53.

[69] For the classification as a sensation see above, § 146.
[70] οἱ Στωϊκοὶ τήνδε (sc. Aristotelis) τὴν κοινὴν αἴσθησιν ‘ἐντὸς ἁφὴν’
προσαγορεύουσι, καθ’ ἣν καὶ ἡμῶν αὐτῶν ἀντιλαμβανόμεθα Aët. plac. iv 8, 7;
‘quid de tactu, et eo quidem quem philosophi interiorem vocant aut doloris aut
voluptatis?’ Cic. Ac. ii 7, 20. This feeling, if mistaken for the perception of an
external object, is an ‘empty twitching’: φαντασία τῶν ἐν ἡμῖν παθῶν· ὃ δὴ
κυριώτερον διάκενος ἑλκυσμὸς παρ’ αὐτοῖς καλεῖται Sext. math. vii 241 (Arnim
ii 64). See further Hicks, Stoic and Epicurean, p. 110.
[71] ‘visa quaedam mitti a deo, velut ea quae in somnis videantur, quaeque
oraculis auspiciis extis declarentur’ Cic. Ac. ii 15, 47.
[72] Arnim ii 93 and 95; ‘ars vero quae potest esse nisi quae non ex una aut
duabus, sed ex multis animi perceptionibus constat?’ Cic. Ac. ii 7, 22; ‘ex quibus
[perceptis] collatis inter se et comparatis artes quoque efficimus, partim ad usum
vitae, partim ad oblectationem necessariis’ N. D. ii 59, 148.
[73] Arnim ii 95.
[74] πρόληψις προλήψει οὐ μάχεται Epict. Disc. i 22, 1.
[75] εἶναι δὲ τὴν ἐπιστήμην κατάληψιν ἀσφαλῆ καὶ ἀμετάπτωτον ὑπὸ λόγου·
ἑτέραν δὲ ἐπιστήμην σύστημα ἐξ ἐπιστημῶν τοιούτων Stob. ii 7, 5 l (see also
Wachsmuth’s crit. note).
[76] ‘scientiam ... quam nos non comprehensionem modo rerum, sed eam
stabilem quoque atque immutabilem esse censemus’ Cic. Ac. ii 8, 23; ‘quod erat
sensu comprehensum ... si ita erat comprehensum ut convelli ratione non posset,
scientiam [Zeno] nominabat’ ib. i 11, 41; ‘quamcunque vero sententiam
probaverit [sapiens], eam sic animo comprensam habebit, ut ea quae sensibus’
ib. ii 37, 119.
[77] See above, § 77.
[78] Plut. comm. not. 47, 4.
[79] Sext. math. vii 151 (Arnim ii 90); ‘scientiam, cuius compotem nisi
sapientem esse neminem’ Cic. Ac. ii 47, 145.
[80] Diog. L. vii 54, as in note 84 below.
[81] See especially Pearson, Zeno fr. 11; and above, § 84.
[82] ‘omnium deinde inanium visorum una depulsio est, sive illa cogitatione
informantur, ... sive in quiete, sive per vinum, sive per insaniam. nam ab
omnibus eiusmodi visis perspicuitatem, quam mordicus tenere debemus, abesse
dicemus.... itaque, simul ut experrecti sumus [ex somno], visa illa contemnimus
neque ita habemus, ut ea quae in foro gessimus’ Cic. Ac. ii 17, 51.
[83] ‘[ab Academia disputatum est], non inesse [in sensibus] propriam, quae
nusquam alibi esset, veri et certi notam’ ib. ii 32, 103; ‘dicunt [Academici] hoc
se unum tollere, ut quicquam possit ita videri, ut non eodem modo falsum etiam
possit videri’ ib. 11, 33.
[84] κριτήριον δὲ τῆς ἀληθείας φασὶ τὴν καταληπτικὴν φαντασίαν, τουτέστι
τὴν ἀπὸ ὑπάρχοντος, καθά φησι Χρύσιππος καὶ Ἀντίπατρος καὶ Ἀπολλόδωρος
Diog. L. vii 54. This view is attributed to Zeno himself: ‘visum [Zeno ita

definiit] ex eo, quod esset, sicut esset, impressum et signatum et effictum’ Cic.
Ac. ii 24, 77.
[85] οἱ δὲ νεώτεροι προσετίθεσαν καὶ τὸ μηδὲν ἔχουσαν ἔνστημα Sext. math.
vii 253.
[86] φαντασία πιθανὴ καὶ ἀπερίσπαστος καὶ περιωδευμένη Sext. math. vii
181. Such was the definition of Carneades (Schmekel, p. 344).
[87] Diog. L. vii 54 (see § 80, note 68).
[88] ‘posse eum [sapientem] falsa a veris distinguere’ Cic. Ac. ii 21, 67.
[89] Diog. L. vii 54. See on this point Hicks, Stoic and Epicurean, p. 70.
[90] ‘multum dare solemus praesumptioni omnium hominum, et apud nos
veritatis argumentum est aliquid omnibus videri; tanquam deos esse inter alia
hoc colligimus, quod omnibus insita de dis opinio est ... neminem invenies, qui
non putet et sapientiam bonum et sapere bonum’ Sen. Ep. 117, 6.
[91] ‘opinionum commenta delet dies, naturae iudicia confirmat’ Cic. N. D. ii
2, 5.
[92] Diog. L. vii 177.
[93] οὐσίαν τἀγαθοῦ τίθενται τὴν εὐλόγιστον ἐκλογὴν τῶν κατὰ φύσιν Plut.
comm. not. 27, 9.
[94] ἐκεῖνον [τὸν Ἀντίπατρον] ὑπὸ Καρνεάδου πιεζόμενον, εἰς ταύτας
καταδύεσθαι τὰς εὑρεσιλογίας ib. 27, 15.
[95] ‘iudicis est semper in causis verum sequi; patroni nonnunquam
verisimile, etiam si minus sit verum, defendere; quod scribere ... non auderem,
nisi idem placeret gravissimo Stoicorum Panaetio’ Cic. Off. ii 14, 51.
[96] ‘visus noster solita imbecillitate deceptus’ Sen. N. Q. i 2, 3.
[97] To himself, v 33.
[98] See above, §§ 146, 147.
[99] ‘sapientem aliquando sustinere adsensionem’ Cic. Ac. ii 17, 53.
[100] Epict. Disc. i 27, 17.
[101] The distinction between ‘name’ and ‘class-name’ was due to
Chrysippus: see Sandys, Classical Scholarship, i p. 144.
[102] Diog. L. vii 58.
[103] For these and further particulars see Sandys, Classical Scholarship, i ch.
ix; R. Schmidt, Stoicorum Grammatica, pp. 18 sqq.
[104] ‘Crates, nobilis grammaticus, fretus Chrysippo, homine acutissimo, qui
reliquit περὶ ἀνωμαλίας iii libros, contra analogiam atque Aristarchum est nixus’
Varro L. L. ix 1 (Arnim ii 151).
[105] Orig. cont. Celsum i 24 (Arnim ii 146).
[106] Varr. L. L. vi 11 (Arnim ii 163).
[107] See Zeller, Stoics etc., p. 73, n. 2; Aristotle’s distinction is between τὸν
ἐν τῇ ψυχῇ λόγον and τὸν ἔξω λόγον.

[108] ‘vocem Stoici corpus esse contendunt eamque esse dicunt ictum aera’ A.
Gellius, N. A. v 15, 6.
[109] ‘hunc [qui primo dicitur iam fari] Chrysippus negat loqui, sed ut loqui;
... sic in corvis, cornicibus, pueris primitus incipientibus fari, verba non esse
verba’ Varro L. L. vi 56 (Arnim ii 143).
[110] Diog. L. vii 63 to 78.
[111] Varro translates this by ‘proloquium’ (Gell. N. A. xvi 8, 8), Cicero
provisionally by ‘pronuntiatum’ (Tusc. disp. i 7, 14).
[112] A statement or proposition is therefore a phrase ‘complete in itself’
(λεκτὸν αὐτοτελές) A. Gellius N. A. xvi 8, 4.
[113] Diog. L. vii 45.
[114] ib. 80 and 81.
[115] ‘ex iis modis conclusiones innumerabiles nascuntur’ Cic. Top. 14, 57.
[116] § 83.
[117] ἔλυε δὲ [Ζήνων] σοφίσματα, καὶ τὴν διαλεκτικήν, ὡς τοῦτο ποιεῖν
δυναμένην, ἐκέλευε παραλαμβάνειν τοὺς μαθητάς Plut. Sto. rep. 8, 2.
[118] ‘inventus, Chrysippe, tui finitor acervi’ Pers. Sat. vi 80.
[119] ‘placet enim Chrysippo, cum gradatim interrogetur, tria pauca sint anne
multa, aliquanto prius quam ad multa perveniat, quiescere’ Cic. Ac. ii 29, 93. Cf.
Sext. math. vii 416.
[120] ‘si te mentiri dicis idque verum dicis, mentiris an verum dicis?’ Cic. Ac.
ii 29, 95.
[121] Epict. Disc. ii 17, 34.
[122] ‘mus syllaba est. mus autem caseum rodit: syllaba ergo caseum rodit ...
o pueriles ineptias!’ Sen. Ep. 48, 6 and 7; ‘quod non perdidisti, habes; cornua
autem non perdidisti; cornua ergo habes’ ib. 49, 8.
[123] Epict. Disc. ii 19, 1 sqq.
[124] See below, §§ 220, 221.
[125] Diog. L. vii 60.
[126] ‘omnis oratio aut continua est aut inter respondentem et interrogantem
discissa; hanc διαλεκτικήν, illam ῥητορικήν placuit vocari’ Sen. Ep. 89, 17.
[127] Cic. Orator 32, 113.
[128] ‘scripsit artem rhetoricam Cleanthes. Chrysippus etiam; sed sic, ut si
quis obmutescere cupierit, nihil aliud legere debeat. itaque vides quo modo
loquantur; nova verba fingunt, deserunt usitata’ Cic. Fin. iv 3, 7.
[129] Diog. L. vii 59.
[130] ‘uni M. Porcio me dedicavi atque despondi atque delegavi’ Front. et
Aur. Ep. ii 13.
[131] οἱ Στωϊκοὶ δὲ τὸ εὖ λέγειν ἔλεγον τὸ ἀληθῆ λέγειν Anon. ad Herm. Rhet.
Gr. vii 8. Hence speech was a virtue; ‘[Stoicis] hanc habeo gratiam, quod soli ex

omnibus eloquentiam virtutem ac sapientiam esse dixerunt’ Cic. de Or. iii 18, 65.
[132] ‘fuerunt et clari quidam auctores, quibus solum videretur oratoris
officium docere; namque et effectus duplici ratione excludendos putabant,
primum quia vitium esset omnis animi perturbatio, deinde quia iudicem a
veritate pelli misericordia gratia similibusque non oporteret, et voluptatem
audientium petere ... vix etiam viro dignum arbitrabantur’ Quint. Inst. or. v
Prooem.
[133] Diog. L. vii 42.
[134] ‘orationis genus habent [Stoici] fortasse subtile et certe acutum; sed, ut
in oratore, exile, inusitatum, abhorrens ab auribus vulgi, obscurum, inane,
ieiunum, attamen eiusmodi quo uti ad vulgus nullo modo possit’ Cic. de Or. iii
18, 66.
[135] ‘dicebat modesta Diogenes et sobria’ A. Gellius, N. A. vi 14, 10.
[136] See below, chap. xvi.
[137] See Smiley, Latinitas and Ἑλληνισμός.
[138] ‘Philosophers utter words which are contrary to common opinion, as
Cleanthes also said, but not words contrary to reason’ Epict. Disc. iv 1, 173;
‘where is the wonder if in philosophy many things which are true appear
paradoxical to the inexperienced?’ ib. i 25, 33.
[139] ‘ista παράδοξα quae appellant, maxime videntur esse Socratica’ Cic.
Parad. Prooem. 4.
[140] ‘nihil est tam incredibile, quod non dicendo fiat probabile’ Cic. Parad.
Prooem. 3; ‘Stoica paradoxa, quorum nullum esse falsum nec tam mirabile quam
prima facie videtur, adprobabo’ Sen. Ep. 87, 1.
[141] Zeller, Stoics etc., pp. 354-370.
[142] A. Gellius, N. A. xvi 8, 16 and 17.
[143] ‘quaedam exercendi tantum ingenii causa quaeruntur, et semper extra
vitam iacent’ Sen. Ben. vi 1, 1.
[144] ‘multum illis temporis verborum cavillatio eripuit et captiosae
disputationes, quae acumen inritum exercent’ Ep. 45, 5.
[145] ‘We terminate in this, in learning what is said, and in being able to
expound it to another, in resolving a syllogism, and in handling the hypothetical
syllogism’ Epict. Disc. iv 4, 14.
[146] ‘Thanks [to the gods] too that, in spite of my ardour for philosophy, I
did not fall into the hands of any sophist, or sit poring over essays or syllogisms,
or become engrossed in scientific speculation’ M. Aurelius To himself i 17.
[147] ‘verum esse arbitror, ut Antiocho nostro familiari placebat, correctionem
veteris Academiae potius quam aliquam novam disciplinam putandam
[Stoicorum rationem]’ Cic. Ac. i 12, 43.
[148] ‘tunc intellegere nobis licebit, quam contemnenda miremur, simillimi
pueris, quibus omne ludicrum in pretio est. quid ergo inter nos et illos interest, ut
Ariston ait, nisi quod nos circa tabulas et statuas insanimus, carius inepti? illos
reperti in litore calculi leves delectant, nos ingentium maculae columnarum’ Sen.

Ep. 115, 8. This tone is clearly derived from Cynism, as the reference to Aristo
indicates. A modern Cynic is still more sweeping in his condemnation: ‘all the
nastiness and stupidity which you call science and art’ (Count Leo Tolstoy in the
Westminster Gazette, Sept. 3, 1910).

CHAPTER VII.
THE FOUNDATIONS OF PHYSICS.

Physics. 171. Under the general heading of Physics the
ancients included a number of subjects which in modern
times form independent branches of philosophy. Cleanthes subdivided the
subject into Physics proper and Theology[1]. Here it will be convenient to
make a larger number of subdivisions, so as to treat separately of (i) the
Foundations of Physics, generally called (after Aristotle’s treatise)
‘Metaphysics’; (ii) Physics proper, that is, the account of the Universe and
its history; (iii) the final problems involved in the history of the Universe,
such as its government by Divine Providence, the Existence of Evil, Free-
will, and Chance; (iv) the problems of Religion, such as the existence of
gods, their number, character, and claims on mankind; and (v) the nature of
Man, including the modern subjects of Psychology and Physiology, and to
some extent of Anthropology also, treated by the Stoics as a Kingdom
governed by the Soul. According to Stoic principles these subjects cannot
be separated one from the other, or from the other parts of philosophy; and
therefore in treating each one we shall, as before, assume a general
knowledge of all the others. The Stoics laid great stress upon the study of
Physics, as the only sound basis for a scientific rule of human conduct; and
some of them (beginning with Chrysippus), having especial regard to the
elevated dignity of the study of Theology, were disposed to rank this branch
of philosophy as the highest and last of its three principal divisions[2]. We
shall however, in accordance with a view more generally held, reserve the
last place for Ethics[3].
Fundamental 172. To the earlier Greek philosophers, as we have
Conceptions. already seen, it appeared that a single bold intuition was
enough, or almost enough, to discover a sufficient
foundation upon which to construct a reasoned account of all things. Thus
the Ionic philosophers took up as such a foundation one or more of the
elements of air, fire, and water. But as soon as these three, together with
earth, were recognized as ‘elements’ existing side by side, it became

necessary to dig deeper, so as to secure a foundation for these as well. Thus
Democritus resolved all four into ‘atoms’ and ‘void’; his theory was taken
over by Epicurus, and remains to this day not only the most popular
solution of the problem, but also that which (till quite recently) was tacitly
assumed as the basis of all scientific investigation. Anaxagoras, working on
different lines, began his account of the universe with ‘mind’ on the one
hand and a primal conglomerate ‘matter’ on the other; a doctrine evidently
based upon the popular dualism of soul and body, and still the basis of all
transcendental philosophy and established religious conceptions. This
Aristotle varied by assuming rather an ‘active’ and a ‘passive’ principle,
force which works and matter upon which it works. Besides these
conceptions many others need to be considered, which if not absolutely
fundamental, are nevertheless matters of discussion in all philosophical
schools, as those of motion, space, time, soul, body, God, the universe,
cause, effect, will and necessity. In this way the original inquiry into the
foundation of the universe developes into a general study of fundamental
conceptions; and it is at this stage that it is taken over and dealt with by
Stoicism, which adds to the list certain conceptions on which it lays a
special stress and to which it gives a characteristic colour; such are those of
‘body,’ ‘spirit,’ and ‘tone.’
The Stoic monism. 173. The fact that the Stoics use from time to time the
language of other schools or of popular speculation does
not necessarily imply that this language is an adequate statement of their
doctrine; and we frequently[4] find that the discussion of particular problems
seems to be based on dualisms, though these are in the end subordinated to
monistic statements. Thus in logic we have already noticed the sharp
contrast between the perceiving mind and the external object of perception
(αἰσθητόν, ὑπάρχον); nevertheless mind and object are ultimately declared
to be akin[5]. So in particular the popular dualism of ‘soul’ and ‘body’ is
often accepted by the Stoics, and yet as steadily superseded by the paradox
that ‘soul is body.’ The reason given for this is that ‘body is that which acts
and is acted upon[6]’; and this statement in the end overrides the Aristotelian
distinction of force and matter, active principle and passive principle.
‘Body,’ as conceived by the Stoics, is the one ultimate element, the
foundation and beginning of the universe; it contains within itself the
capacity of action, and nothing but ‘body’ has this capacity. Body, and

nothing but body, exists in the true sense; that certain other things have a
quasi-existence (as we shall see later in this chapter) is an embarrassment
which only brings into clearer relief this distinctive feature of the system.
The Stoic ‘body,’ though it is also called ‘matter’ (ὕλη, materia), must not
be confused with the ‘matter’ of modern philosophy, which has derived
from Aristotle the implication of passivity[7]; much more closely it
corresponds with the ‘stuff’ by which modern monistic philosophers denote
the substratum of mind and body alike. To call the Stoics ‘materialists’ will
generally prove misleading; it is the Epicurean system, to which the Stoics
were sharply opposed, which (as we have seen)[8] corresponds to modern
materialism.
The nature of 174. The conception of ‘body’ therefore replaces in
‘body.’ the Stoic system the various elements which the Ionic
philosophers assumed as the basis of the universe, and
combines both parts of such dualistic elements as were assumed by
Democritus, Anaxagoras and Aristotle. Since it is the foundation of all
things it must be capable of taking very various shapes. In logic we have
met with it under the name of the ‘substratum’ (τὸ ὑπάρχον, id quod est)[9],
but it none the less includes the ‘subject’ or feeling and reasoning mind. In
the universe as a whole it is ‘essence’ (οὐσία, essentia); in its parts it is
‘matter’ (ὕλη, silva)[10]; but it also appears, possessed of intelligence, as the
deity[11], and again is identified with ‘breath’ or ‘spirit[12],’ and through this
with the human soul[13]. Even in ethics it has its place; for all causes are
bodily, and not least ‘the good’ and the respective virtues, all of which are
bodies, for they act upon body[14]; similarly the emotions such as anger and
melancholy, are of the nature of body[15].
Motion, space and 175. The Stoic ‘body’ in all its transformations is
time. active and alert. It contains in itself the principle or
power of movement; for though we observe that one
body is set in motion by another, yet this could not be the case unless in the
beginning there had been a body which had movement of itself[16]. As to the
nature of the primal movement, the Stoics agree with Anaximenes that it
may be described as alternate rarefaction and condensation. Rarefaction is a
wave or ‘spirit’ spreading from the centre to the extremities; condensation is
a contrary movement from the extremities to the centre[17]. The extension of

body is ‘space,’ which therefore does not exist of itself, but only as a
function of body[18]. Where there is no body (and body is limited), there is
no space, but only the ‘boundless void’ beyond the universe[19]; of this we
cannot say that it ‘exists’; rather it ‘not exists.’ Time also does not exist of
itself, but only in the movement of body[20]. Neither space nor time existed
before the universe, but have been all along bound up with it[21].
Body comprises life 176. In almost every particular we find a sharp
and thought. contrast between the Stoic conception of ‘body’ and the
Epicurean ‘atom.’ The atom is extremely small and
entirely unchangeable; ‘body’ is immensely large and in a high degree
plastic. Atoms alternate with void; but ‘body’ spreads continuously
throughout the entire universe; it can never be torn apart or show a gap[22].
Atoms move downwards in parallel straight lines; ‘body’ moves from the
centre to the circumference, and thence returns to the centre. Two atoms can
never occupy the same space; but ‘body’ everywhere moves through body,
penetrating it and combining with it throughout its whole extent[23]. The
atom is a convenient hypothesis within the range of modern physical and
chemical science; the conception of ‘body’ gains force as we enter the
region of biology. For life also is a movement which proceeds from a warm
centre (and warmth is body rarefied), and extends towards a circumference
which is in comparison gross and cold[24]. Going further, we find that
‘body’ and its functions are so interpreted as to provide a key to the
activities of the human reason and will.
Tone or tension. 177. To the central conception of body are attached in
the Stoic system various supplementary conceptions,
which serve to bring into clearer view its nature and powers. Of these the
most characteristic is that of ‘tone’ or ‘strain’ (τόνος, intentio). This term
appears originally to have expressed muscular activity[25], and was next
used by the Cynics to denote that active condition of the soul which is the
true end of life; ‘no labour,’ said Diogenes, ‘is noble, unless its end is tone
of soul[26].’ Although we cannot trace the term ‘tone’ directly to Zeno, we
find that he explains sleep as a relaxation of the soul, substantially agreeing
with later writers who call it a ‘relaxation of the sensory tone around the
soul[27].’ With Cleanthes the word becomes fairly common, first in the
ethical application, in which ‘tone’ is ‘a shock of fire, which if it be strong

enough to stir the soul to fulfil its duties is called strength and force[28],’ and
then in physics to explain the unceasing activity of the universe[29],
personified by Hercules in Stoic allegorical theology[30]. In later writers
tone becomes constantly associated with the ‘spirit’ or ‘thrill’ which
explains both the unity and the movement of all things[31], so that ‘tone of
spirit’ or ‘thrill-tone’ (πνευματικὸς τόνος, intentio spiritus) explains to us
the operations of body and mind alike[32].
The seed power. 178. Body however is not only active but creative;
there is inherent in it a power, which is that of the ‘seed’
(σπέρμα, semen), and which is most conspicuously illustrated in the seed of
animals and plants. It is the characteristic of seed that from a small
beginning it developes a great plan, and that this plan never changes[33].
This plan or purpose is named by the Stoics its ‘reason’ or ‘word’ (λόγος),
and at this point Stoicism incorporates the doctrine of the ‘Word’ or
universal reason with which it became acquainted through Heraclitus. The
‘Word’ or ‘seed-power’ (λόγος σπερματικός) of the universe is one; it is the
primal fire in its work of creation; it is Zeus the Creator who moulds gross
matter into the things that are to be[34]; it is wisdom which plies matter as it
will[35]. But there are also in individual objects, animate and inanimate,
indestructible seed-powers, countless in number, displayed alike in growth,
procreation, and purpose[36]; these seed-powers are, as it were, spirits or
deities, spread throughout the universe, everywhere shaping, peopling,
designing, multiplying; they are activities of fiery spirit working through
tension[37] in its highest development. But the seed-power of the universe
comprehends in itself all the individual seed-powers; they are begotten of it,
and shall in the end return to it. Thus in the whole work of creation and re-
absorption[38] we see the work of one Zeus, one divine Word, one all-
pervading spirit[39].
Cause. 179. Closely akin to the theory of ‘seed-powers’ and
the Word is that of ‘cause’ (αἰτία, causa). Aristotle had
already explained this term in connexion with cosmogony, laying down
that, in order that a universe may come into being, three ‘causes’ are
required; matter, without which nothing can be made; a workman, to make
things; and the form or shape, which is imposed on every work as on a
statue. To these may be added a fourth cause, the purpose of the work. Thus

to produce a statue we need the bronze, the artist, the design, and the fee.
Grammatically these causes may be expressed by the help of prepositions,
as the ex quo, a quo, in quo and propter quod[40]. To this theory of multiple
causes the Stoics oppose the doctrine of a single ‘first cause,’ the maker of
the universe. This first cause can be none other than the primal creative fire
in a new aspect; equally it is the creative Word.
It seems well to translate here in full the argument of Seneca on this
point, for it stands almost alone as an example of his powers in continuous
exposition:

The Stoic dogma is that there is one cause only, the
maker. Aristotle holds that cause is threefold. ‘The first
cause,’ he says, ‘is the material itself, for without it nothing
can be made. The second cause is the maker. The third is the
design, which is impressed on every single work as on a
statue;’ this Aristotle calls the εἶδος. I will now explain what
he means.
The bronze is the first cause of a statue; for it could never
have been made, had there not been stuff to be cast or
wrought into shape. The second cause is the sculptor; for the
bronze could never have been brought into the shape of a
statue without the artist’s touch. The third cause is the
design; for the statue would not be called the ‘javelin-man’
or the ‘crowned king’ had not such a design been impressed
upon it.
There is besides a fourth cause, the purpose. What is
purpose? It is that which induced the sculptor to undertake
the work, the aim that he had in view. It may have been
money, if he intended to sell it; or glory, if he wished to
make himself a name; or religious feeling, if he proposed to
present it to a temple. That for the sake of which a thing is
done is therefore also a cause; for you cannot think it right in
making up a list of causes to omit something, apart from
which the thing would never have been made.

Thus Aristotle postulates a multiplicity of causes; but we
maintain that the list is either too long or too short.
If we hold that everything, apart from which the thing
would never have been made, is a cause of its making, then
the list is too short. We ought to reckon time as a cause, for
nothing can be made without time. We ought to reckon space
as a cause; for if there is no room for a thing to be made, it
will certainly not be made. Movement too should be placed
in the list; for without movement nothing can be produced or
destroyed; without movement there can be neither art nor
change.
We Stoics look for a first and general cause. Such a cause
must be single, for the stuff of the universe is single. We ask
what that cause is, and reply that it is the creative reason, the
deity. The various causes in the list that has been made are
not a series of independent causes, but are all variations of a
single cause, namely ‘the maker[41].’

Causation and free- 180. Although the ‘first cause’ and the ‘Word’ are thus
will. formally identified, their associations in connexion with
cosmogony are very different. For whereas the ‘Word’
suggests reason and purpose, and leads up to the dogma that the universe is
governed by divine providence, the term ‘cause’ suggests the linking of
cause and effect by an unending chain, the inevitable sequence of events
which leaves no room for effort or hope. These terms therefore point to the
supreme problems of Fate and divine Purpose, Determinism and Free-will,
and as such will be discussed in a later chapter[42]. Here it is sufficient to
note that the Stoics not only accept, but insist upon the use of terms
suggesting both points of view, and look therefore beyond their immediate
opposition to an ultimate reconciliation; and that the importance attached to
the doctrine of a ‘single and general cause’ by no means excludes a
multiplicity of individual causes depending upon it, and capable of
classification according to their relative importance[43].
The categories. 181. Thus the conception of ‘body,’ so simple to the
plain man, becomes to the philosopher manifold and

intricate. Its interpretation is to some extent brought into harmony with
common speech through the doctrine of the ‘categories’ based upon
Aristotle’s teaching[44]. But whereas Aristotle endeavoured in his categories
to classify the various but independent classes of existences, the Stoics
considered the different aspects in which the one primary body might be
studied. The first two categories, those of ‘substance’ (ὑποκείμενον) and of
‘quality’ (ποιόν), agree with those of Aristotle[45], and clearly correspond to
the grammatical categories of noun and adjective. The third category is that
of ‘disposition’ (πὼς ἔχον), as ‘lying down’ or ‘standing[46].’ The fourth is
that of ‘relative position’ (πρός τί πως ἔχον), as ‘right’ and ‘left,’ ‘son’ and
‘father[47].’ Some of the categories are further subdivided[48]; but enough is
here stated to shew the object of the analysis, which in practice may have
been useful in securing some completeness in the discussion of particular
conceptions. Of ‘substances’ the Stoics, like others, say that they ‘exist,’
and are ‘bodies’; of qualities they boldly say the same[49]. But they do not
consistently apply the same terms to disposition and relative position; in
this direction they are at last led, like other philosophers, to speak of things
which ‘do not exist.’ They could not take the modern view that all such
discussions are verbal entanglements, of which no solution is possible,
because they believed that there was a natural harmony between words and
things. We on the other hand shall be little inclined to follow their analysis
into its manifold details[50].
Substance. 182. The analysis of the first two categories, those of
Substance and Quality, leads us at once to the
profoundest problems of Metaphysics; and even if we allow that the
difficulty is primarily grammatical, and resolves itself into a discussion of
the functions of Substantive and Adjective, it is none the less inextricably
interwoven with all our habits of thought. It would be unreasonable to
expect from the Stoics perfectly clear and consistent language on this point;
they absorb into their system much from popular philosophy, and much
from the teaching of Aristotle in particular. The view which is distinctively
Stoic is that Substance and Quality are both body[51], but in two different
aspects. The terms ‘body’ and ‘substance’ refer to the same reality, but do
not describe it with the same fulness. Yet because the very word ‘substance’
(οὐσία) suggests existence, the Stoics are drawn also to speak of ‘substance
without quality’ (ἄποιος οὐσία), and seem to identify it with a dead ‘matter’

(ὕλη), or ‘substratum’ (ὑποκείμενον), as though life must be introduced into
it from without[52]. This is practically the view of Aristotle, embodied in the
phrase ‘matter without quality is potentially body’[53]; but just so far as
terms of this kind imply a dualistic explanation of the universe, they are not
really reconcileable with the fundamental principles of Stoicism, and they
must therefore be understood with reservations. It may often seem that the
three terms ‘body,’ ‘substance,’ ‘matter,’ are practically interchangeable, but
they are of different rank. For body exists eternally of itself; whereas
substance and matter, except when loosely used as equivalents of body, do
not exist of themselves, but substance always in association with quality[54],
and matter always in association with force. Further we may distinguish
between ‘substance’ in general, or ‘first matter,’ which is a ‘substratum’
(ὑποκείμενον) to the universe, and the ‘matter’ of particular things[55]. The
former never grows greater or less, the latter may alter in either
direction[56].
Quality. 183. Quality (ποιότης, τὸ ποιόν, qualitas) constitutes
the second category. It is defined by the Stoics as a
difference in a substance which cannot be detached from that substance, but
makes it ‘such and such,’ as for instance ‘sweet,’ ‘round,’ ‘red,’ ‘hot[57].’
Qualities, say the Stoics, are bodies[58]. This paradoxical statement may be
understood in two ways; first, in that qualities do not exist independently,
but are aspects of ‘body’ which possesses quality; secondly, in that qualities
are bodies in a secondary sense. We may consider it evidence of the second
point of view that language describes the qualities by nouns, as ‘sweetness,’
‘rotundity,’ ‘redness,’ ‘heat’; and indeed it is not so long since our own
chemists described heat as a ‘substance’ under the name of ‘caloric.’ This
point of view is carried to an extreme when the Stoics say ‘qualities are
substances,’ thus throwing the first two categories into one[59]. Much
stronger is the tendency towards Aristotle’s views, so that as substance
becomes identified with dead matter, quality is explained as the movement,
tension, or current which endows it with life. Hence the Stoics say ‘the
movement of rarefaction is the cause of quality[60]’; ‘matter is a dull
substratum, qualities are spirits and air-like tensions[61]’; ‘quality is a spirit
in a certain disposition[62]’; ‘the air-current which keeps each thing together
is the cause of its quality[63].’ All these expressions must however be

interpreted in the light of the Stoic theory as a whole. Finally we notice that,
corresponding to the two kinds of substance, general and particular, there
are two kinds of quality, as shewn in the ‘generically qualified’ (κοινῶς
ποιόν) and the ‘individually qualified’ (ἰδίως ποιόν); for instance, heat in
the universe and heat in particular objects[64].
Disposition. 184. The third category is that of ‘disposition’ (πὼς
ἔχοντα, res quodammodo se habens). It differs from
quality in its variableness; for a brave man is always brave, and fire is
always hot; but a man is sometimes standing, sometimes lying; fire is
sometimes lambent, sometimes still. Qualities therefore appear to
correspond generally to the συμβεβηκότα (coniuncta) of Epicurus, in that
they can never be separated from a body[65]; and dispositions rather with the
συμπτώματα (eventa), which come and go[66]. The third category appears to
be used by the Stoics in a very wide sense, and to correspond to several of
the categories of Aristotle[67]. Disposition is attached to quality as quality is
attached to substance[68]; and though dispositions are not expressly termed
bodies, yet we must consider them to be, as the terms in the Greek and
Latin sufficiently indicate, bodies in particular aspects.
In the further applications of Stoic theory disposition as defined above
appears to be replaced in Greek by the term ἕξις. But this term is used in
two different senses. In the first place it is the movement of rarefaction and
condensation, by which a spirit or thrill passes from the centre of an object
to the extremities, and returns from the extremities to the centre[69]; in this
sense it is translated in Latin by unitas, and takes bodily form as an air-
current[70]. This force, when it requires a further motive power in the
direction of development, becomes the principle of growth (φύσις, natura),
and is displayed not only in the vegetable world, but also in animals, as in
particular in the hair and nails[71]. Growth when it takes to itself the further
powers of sensation and impulse becomes soul (ψυχή, anima), and is the
distinctive mark of the animal world[72].
In a rather different sense ἕξις or temporary condition is contrasted with
διάθεσις or ‘permanent disposition.’ In this sense the virtues are permanent
dispositions of the soul, because virtue is unchanging; the arts are
temporary conditions. The virtues belong to the wise man only, the arts to
the ordinary man. This distinction however does not hold its ground in the

Roman period, the word habitus (representing ἕξις), our ‘habit,’ being used
in both senses[73]. The virtues are bodies, being dispositions of the soul
which is bodily[74].
Relative position. 185. The fourth category, that of ‘relative position’
(πρός τί πως ἔχον) appears to be of less importance than
[75]
the others . Its characteristic is that it may disappear without altering that
to which it belongs. Thus that which is on the right hand may cease to be so
by the disappearance of that which was on its left; a father may cease to be
such on the death of his son[76]. It seems difficult to describe the fourth
category as one consisting of ‘body,’ but at least it is a function of body.
Also it does not appear that ‘relative position’ can be predicated of the
universe as a whole; it is peculiar to individual objects, but works towards
their combination in a larger whole. The fourth category has an important
application in practical ethics in the doctrine of daily duties, for these are
largely determined by the relative positions (σχέσεις) of the parties
concerned: such are the duties of a king to his people, a father to his son, a
slave to his master[77].
Combination. 186. Having fully considered bodies and their
relationships, we proceed to consider their combination.
In ordinary experience we meet with three kinds of combination;
juxtaposition (παράθεσις), as in a mixture of various kinds of grain; mixture
(μῖξις), when solid bodies are interfused, as fire and heat, or fusion
(κρᾶσις), when fluids are interfused, as wine poured into the sea; chemical
mixture (σύγχυσις), when each of the two bodies fused disappears[78]. Of
these the second in its most completed form (κρᾶσις δι’ ὅλων, universa
fusio) is of high importance. For in this way we find that soul is fused with
body[79], quality with substance[80], light with air[81], God with the
universe[82]. Aristotle admits that there is this mixture between substance
and qualities; but as both of these are to the Stoics bodies, and so too are the
members of the other pairs quoted, the Stoic doctrine must be summed up
in the paradox ‘body moves through body[83].’ This also follows from the
Stoic doctrine that there is no void in the universe. Correspondingly the sum
total of body in its various aspects and mixtures completes the whole
(ὅλον), which is identical with the ‘world-order’ or ‘universe’ (κόσμος)[84].
It seems likely that this important conception had been reached in very

early times by the Chaldaean astronomers; it was definitely propounded by
Pythagoras[85], had been taken up by Socrates[86] and the Sophists[87], and
was in Stoic times generally accepted both in popular philosophy and in
scientific investigation.
Quiddities. 187. Up to this point the Stoic system has been guided
by a determined monism. Body is; that which is not
body is not. Yet in the end the Stoics feel compelled to speak of certain
things which are not body (ἀσώματα, incorporalia). In the first instance
there is the void beyond the universe[88]. It is possible to dispute as to
whether void may more correctly be said to exist or not to exist; but at least
it is a part of nature[89], and we need some term like ‘the all’ (τὸ πᾶν) to
include both the universe and the void beyond[90]. Next we have to deal
with statements (λεκτά), and mental conceptions of every kind, which stand
as a class in contrast with the real objects to which they may or may not
respectively correspond[91]. Lastly, the Stoics included space and time,
which they had previously explained as functions of body, in the list of
things not bodily[92]. Having thus reached the two main classes of ‘bodies,’
and ‘things not bodily,’ the monistic principle can only be saved by creating
a supreme class to include both. Let this then be called the existent (τὸ ὄν,
quod est)[93], or, if it be objected that things incorporeal do not exist[94], we
may use the name ‘quiddities’ (τινά, quid)[95]. In this way the monistic
theory, though a little damaged in vitality, is again set on its feet so far as
the ingenious use of words can help.
Statements. 188. The language of the Stoics with regard to the
phenomena of speech and thought is not always easy to
follow, and perhaps not altogether consistent. On the one hand, attaching
high importance to the reasoning power, they desire to include its
operations in that which is real and bodily. Thus the ‘mind-pictures’ and
indeed all mental conceptions are bodily and even ‘animal,’ in the sense that
they are operations of body[96]; and truthfulness, ignorance, science and art
are all bodies in the sense that they are dispositions of the soul, which is
bodily[97]. But ‘phrases’ (λεκτά) are definitely incorporeal, and with them
appear to be ranked all mental conceptions and general ideas; about these
there is a question, not merely whether they exist or not, but whether they
may even be classed in the most general class of all as ‘quiddities[98].’ Nor

can we call general conceptions true or false[99]; though of some of them, as
of Centaurs, giants, and the like, we may say that they are formed by false
mental processes[100]. Finally statements are either true or false, but are not
to be called existent. The whole discussion therefore ends with the broad
distinction between the object, which may be real or ‘existent,’ and the
predication which may be ‘true’; and the attempt to unite these two
conceptions is not persisted in[101].
Force and matter. 189. Although the Stoics aim consistently at the
monistic standard, they make frequent use of dualistic
statements, some of which we have already noticed. The Latin writers often
contrast soul and body from the standpoint of ethics[102]; and we meet in all
the Stoic writers, and often in unguarded language, the favourite
Aristotelian dualism of force and matter, or (what comes to the same thing)
the active and passive principles. ‘Zeno’ (we are told) ‘laid down that there
are two principles in the universe, the active and the passive. The passive is
matter, or essence without quality; the active is the Logos or deity within
it[103].’ So also Cleanthes and Chrysippus taught[104]; and in the Roman
period Seneca regarded this as a well-understood dogma of the whole
school[105]. But even if direct evidence were lacking, the whole bearing of
the philosophy would shew that this dualism is also surmounted by an
ultimate monism. God and matter are alike body; they cannot exist the one
apart from the other[106]. Of this Cicero, speaking for the Stoics, gives a
proof; matter could never have held together, without some force to bind it;
nor force without matter[107]. We must not therefore be led by the term
‘principles’ (ἀρχαί, principia) to think of force and matter in any other way
than as two aspects of primary body, separable as mental conceptions,
inseparable as physical realities. The interpretation is essentially the same,
whether the Stoics speak of God and the universe, matter and cause, body
and tension, or substance and quality, and has been already discussed with
some fulness under these separate headings.
The elements. 190. The position of the four ‘elements’ (στοιχεῖα,
elementa) is similar; these are in the Stoic philosophy
subdivisions of the two principles just discussed. For fire and air are of the
nature of cause and movement; water and earth of receptivity and
passivity[108]. Body is therefore made up of the four elements mixed[109], or

perhaps rather of the elementary qualities of heat and cold, dry and wet,
which they represent[110]. The doctrine of primary or elemental qualities
had been taught before, first by Anaximenes, then by Hippocrates the
physician, and by Aristotle[111]; the list of the four elements is traced back
to Empedocles. For Aristotle’s ‘fifth element’ Zeno found no use[112].
Conclusion. 191. Such are the fundamental conceptions or
postulates with which the Stoics approach the problems
of physics. It is not necessary for our purpose to compare their merit with
those of Aristotle, or to set a value on the debt that Zeno and his successors
owed to the founder of the Peripatetic school. Still less do we suggest that
the Stoics have perfectly analyzed the contents of the universe, or have even
produced an orderly and rounded scheme. But at least it seems clear that
their work shews intellectual power, and that speculation is not necessarily
less profound because it is pursued with a practical aim[113]. The founders
of the Stoic philosophy had a wide reach; they took all knowledge to be
their province; and they worked persistently towards the harmonization of
all its parts.

FOOTNOTES
[1] Diog. L. vii 41.
[2] Arnim ii 42 and 44.
[3] Diog. L. vii 40.
[4] Perhaps necessarily: on the definition of monism, see above, § 35, note 22.
[5] See above, §§ 149, 153.
[6] ‘[Zeno] nullo modo arbitrabatur quicquam effici posse ab ea [natura], quae
expers esset corporis ... nec vero aut quod efficeret aliquid aut quod efficeretur,
posse esse non corpus’ Cic. Ac. i 11, 39; ‘cui tanta vis est, ut inpellat et cogat et
retineat et iubeat, corpus est’ Sen. Ep. 106, 9.
[7] See above, § 67.
[8] § 43.
[9] See above, § 157, note 84.
[10] ταὐτὸν σῶμα καὶ οὐσίαν ὁριζόμενοι Clem. Alex. Strom. ii p. 436 (Arnim
ii 359); διδόασι δὲ καὶ σῶμα αὐτῇ [τῇ ὕλῃ] Plot. Enn. ii 4, 1 (Arnim ii 320).
οὐσία in this sense is also called πρώτη ὕλη, see § 182, note 52.
[11] τὸν θεὸν ... σῶμα νοερὸν ... ποιοῦντες Plut. comm. not. 48, 2.

[12] ‘vides autem tanto spiritum esse faciliorem omni alia materia, quanto
tenuior est’ Sen. Ep. 50, 6.
[13] ‘et hoc [animus] corpus est’ ib. 106, 4.
[14] οἱ Στωϊκοὶ πάντα τὰ αἴτια σωματικά· πνεύματα γάρ Aët. plac. i 11, 5;
‘placet nostris quod bonum est, corpus esse’ Sen. Ep. 117, 2; ‘quaeris, bonum an
corpus sit. bonum facit, prodest enim. quod facit, corpus est’ ib. 106, 4.
[15] ‘non puto te dubitaturum, an adfectus corpora sint, tanquam ira, amor,
tristitia. si dubitas, vide an voltum nobis mutent, an frontem adstringant, an
faciem diffundant, an ruborem evocent, an fugent sanguinem. quid ergo? tam
manifestas notas corpori credis imprimi nisi a corpore?’ ib. 106, 5.
[16] ‘dicimus non posse quicquam ab alio moveri, nisi aliquid fuerit mobile
ex semet’ Sen. N. Q. ii 8; ‘is ardor, qui est mundi, non agitatus ab alio, neque
externo pulsu, sed per se ipse ac sua sponte [movetur]’ Cic. N. D. ii 11, 31.
[17] οἱ δὲ Στωϊκοὶ ... κίνησιν τὴν μανωτικὴν καὶ πυκνωτικὴν τίθενται, τὴν μὲν
(sc. πυκνωτικὴν) ἐπὶ τὰ ἔσω, τὴν δὲ ἐπὶ τὰ ἔξω Simpl. Arist. cat. p. 74; ‘tenorem,
qui rarescente materia a medio tendat ad summum, eadem concrescente rursus a
summo referatur ad medium’ Censorinus de die nat. p. 75 (Zeller, p. 128).
[18] τόπον δ’ εἶναι ὁ Χρύσιππος ἀπεφαίνετο τὸ κατεχόμενον δι’ ὅλου ὑπὸ
ὄντος Ar. Did. fr. 25 Diels (Arnim ii 503).
[19] κενὸν μὲν εἶναί φασι τὸ οἷόν τε ὑπὸ ὄντος κατέχεσθαι, μὴ κατεχόμενον
δὲ Sext. math. x. 3 (Arnim ii 505); τὸ μὲν οὖν κενὸν ἄπειρον εἶναι λέγεσθαι· τὸ
γὰρ ἐκτὸς τοῦ κόσμου τοιοῦτ’ εἶναι, τὸν δὲ τόπον πεπερασμένον διὰ τὸ μηδὲν
σῶμα ἄπειρον εἶναι Ar. Did. (as note 18).
[20] Χρύσιππος διάστημα [τὸν χρόνον εἶπε] τῆς τοῦ κόσμου κινήσεως Simpl.
Arist. cat. p. 88 l (Arnim ii 510); οἱ πλείους τῶν Στωϊκῶν [χρόνου οὐσίαν] αὐτὴν
τὴν κίνησιν Aët. plac. i 22, 7.
[21] χρόνος γὰρ οὐκ ἦν πρὸ κόσμου ἀλλ’ ἢ σὺν αὐτῷ γέγονεν ἢ μετ’ αὐτόν
Philo de mundi op. § 26 (Arnim ii 511).
[22] The question is thus stated by Seneca: ‘[quaeramus] continua sit omnis et
plena materia ... an diducta, et solidis inane permixtum sit’ Sen. Dial. viii 4, 2;
and answered as follows ‘nihil usquam inane est’ N. Q. iii 16, 5. Cf. Arnim i 95
and ii 425.
[23] σώματα δὲ πάντα ὑπέθεντο καὶ σῶμα διὰ σώματος χωρεῖν Hipp. Phil. 21
(Arnim ii 469).
[24] ‘animus ex inflammata anima constat, ut potissimum videri video
Panaetio’ Cic. Tusc. disp. i 18, 42. The principle is however not carried out in the
Stoic universe, in which the heat resides in the periphery, and the central earth is
cold.
[25] νέων τι δρᾶν μὲν εὐτονώτεραι χέρες Eur. fr. 291 quoted by Corn. 31
(Arnim i 514); ὁμοίως ὥσπερ ἰσχὺς τοῦ σώματος τόνος ἐστὶν ἱκανὸς ἐν νευροῖς,
οὕτω καὶ ἡ τῆς ψυχῆς ἰσχὺς τόνος ἐστί Stob. ii 7, 5 b 4.
[26] Epict. Fr. 57.
[27] See below, § 290.

[28] ὁ δὲ Κλεάνθης ... εἰπὼν ὅτι πληγὴ πυρὸς ὁ τόνος ἐστί, κἂν ἱκανὸς ἐν τῇ
ψυχῇ γένηται πρὸς τὸ ἐπιτελεῖν τὰ ἐπιβάλλοντα ἰσχὺς καλεῖται καὶ κράτος Plut.
Sto. rep. 7, 4.
[29] Κλεάνθης δὲ οὕτω πώς φησι ... τὸν ἐν τῇ τῶν ὅλων οὐσία τόνον μὴ
παύεσθαι Stob. i 17, 3.
[30] Ἡρακλῆς δ’ ἐστὶν ὁ ἐν τοῖς ὅλοις τόνος, καθ’ ὃν ἡ φύσις ἰσχυρὰ καὶ
κραταιά ἐστι Cornutus 31.
[31] ‘quid autem est, quod magis credatur ex se ipso habere intentionem quam
spiritus?’ Sen. N. Q. ii 8.
[32] ‘quid est illi [animo] motus nisi intentio?’ ib. ii 6, 6; ‘quid cursus et
motus omnis, nonne intenti spiritus operae sunt? hic facit vim nervis,
velocitatem currentibus’ ib. ii 6, 4.
[33] καταβληθὲν τὸ σπέρμα ἀναπληροῖ τοὺς οἰκείους λόγους καὶ ἐπισπᾶται
τὴν παρακειμένην ὕλην καὶ διαμορφοῖ Simpl. Ar. cat. Ο γ β.
[34] οὕτω καὶ τοῦτον [τὸν Δία] σπερματικὸν λόγον ὄντα τοῦ κόσμου ...
εὐεργὸν αὐτῷ ποιοῦντα τὴν ὕλην πρὸς τὴν τῶν ἑξῆς γένεσιν Diog. L. vii 136; τὸ
δὲ ποιοῦν τὸν ἐν αὐτῇ λόγον τὸν θεόν ib. 134.
[35] ‘ratio materiam format et quocunque vult versat’ Sen. Ep. 65, 2. Cf. Tert.
Apol. 21.
[36] ἀφθάρτους [τοὺς σπερματικοὺς λόγους] ἐποίησαν, ὡς οἱ ἀπὸ τῆς Στοᾶς
Proclus in Parm. iv 135. See further Stein, Psychologie der Stoa, i p. 49; Heinze,
Lehre vom Logos, pp. 107-127.
[37] ‘The original impulse of providence gave the origin and first momentum
to the cosmic ordering of things, by selecting certain germs of future existences,
and assigning to them productive capacities of realisation, change, and
phenomenal succession.’ M. Aurelius, To himself ix 1.
[38] ‘ad initia deinde rerum redit [sapientia] aeternamque rationem [sc. τὸν
λόγον] toti inditam, et vim omnium seminum [sc. τῶν σπερματικῶν λόγων]
singula proprie figurantem’ Sen. Ep. 90, 29. See also the interpretation of the
picture of Samos, § 254, note 83.
[39] ὁ μὲν θεὸς πῦρ τεχνικὸν ὁδῷ βάδιζον ἐπὶ γενέσεις κόσμου ἐμπεριειληφὸς
ἅπαντας τοὺς σπερματικοὺς λόγους, τὸ δὲ πνεῦμα αὐτοῦ διήκει δι’ ὅλου τοῦ
κόσμου Athen. Supp. 6, 7 b (Pearson Z. 45).
[40] See above, § 67.
[41] Sen. Ep. 65, 4 to 6, 11 and 12.
[42] See below, ch. ix.
[43] ‘causarum enim,’ inquit [Chrysippus], ‘aliae sunt perfectae et principales,
aliae adiuvantes et proximae’ Cic. de Fato 18, 41.
[44] See above, § 66.
[45] οἱ δέ γε Στωϊκοὶ ... ποιοῦνται τὴν τομὴν εἰς τέσσαρα· εἰς ὑποκείμενα καὶ
ποιὰ καὶ πὼς ἔχοντα καὶ πρὸς τί πως ἔχοντα Simpl. Arist. cat. f 16 Δ (Arnim ii
369).

[46] Plotinus Ennead. vi 1, 30 (Arnim ii 400).
[47] Simpl. Arist. cat. f 42 Ε (Arnim ii 403).
[48] For a fuller statement see Zeller, pp. 97-100.
[49] See § 183.
[50] For the position of ‘things not existent’ in the Stoic system see further
below, § 187.
[51] σῶμα δέ ἐστι κατ’ αὐτοὺς ἡ οὐσία Diog. L. vii 150; ἔφησε δὲ ὁ
Ποσειδώνιος τὴν τῶν ὅλων οὐσίαν καὶ ὕλην ἄποιον καὶ ἄμορφον εἶναι Stob. i
11, 5 c.
[52] οὐσίαν δέ φασι τῶν ὄντων ἁπάντων τὴν πρώτην ὕλην· ὕλη δέ ἐστιν ἐξ ἧς
ὁτιδηποτοῦν γίνεται Diog. L. vii 150; ὕλην, σῶμα ὥς φασιν οὖσαν Plot. Enn. ii
p. 114 (Arnim ii 375).
[53] ἡ ἄποιος ὕλη, ἣν δυνάμει σῶμα Ἀριστοτέλης φησί Dexipp. Arist. cat. p.
23, 25 (Arnim ii 374).
[54] See Plutarch, comm. not. 50, 6.
[55] ἁπλῶς μὲν γὰρ ὑποκείμενον πᾶσιν ἡ πρώτη ὕλη, τισὶ δὲ ὑποκείμενον
γιγνομένοις ἐπ’ αὐτοῦ καὶ κατηγορουμένοις ὁ χαλκὸς καὶ ὁ Σωκράτης Dexippus
Arist. cat. p. 23, 25 (Arnim ii 374).
[56] Diog. L. vii 150.
[57] Simplic. Arist. cat. p. 57 Ε (Arnim ii 378).
[58] ὁ περὶ τῶν ποιοτήτων λόγος καὶ τῶν συμβεβηκότων ἁπάντων, ἅ φασιν
εἶναι Στωϊκῶν παῖδες σώματα Galen qual. incorp. 1 xix, p. 463 K (Arnim ii
377).
[59] τὰς δὲ ποιότητας αὖ πάλιν οὐσίας καὶ σώματα ποιοῦσι Plut. comm. not.
50, 1.
[60] οἱ δὲ Στωϊκοὶ κίνησιν [τὴν μανωτικήν see above, note 17] τοῦ ποιὸν εἶναι
νομίζουσιν αἰτίαν Simpl. Arist. cat. p. 68 Ε (Arnim ii 452).
[61] τὴν ὕλην ἀργὸν ἐξ ἑαυτῆς καὶ ἀκίνητον ὑποκεῖσθαι ταῖς ποιότησιν
ἀποφαίνουσι, τὰς δὲ ποιότητας πνεύματα οὔσας καὶ τόνους ἀερώδεις εἰδοποιεῖν
ἕκαστα Plut. Sto. rep. 43, 4.
[62] ἀναιροῖτο ἂν τὸ τὴν ποιότητα εἶναι πνεῦμά πως ἔχον Alex. Aph. Arist.
Top. iv p. 181 (Arnim ii 379).
[63] τοῦ ποιὸν ἕκαστον εἶναι αἴτιος ὁ συνέχων ἀήρ ἐστι Plut. Sto. rep. 43, 2.
[64] Zeller, pp. 103-107.
[65] ‘pondus uti saxi, calor ignis, liquor aquaï, | tactus corporibus cunctis’
Lucr. R. N. i 454, 455.
[66] ‘servitium contra, paupertas, divitiaeque, | ... cetera quorum | adventu
manet incolumis natura abituque, | haec soliti sumus, ut par est, eventa vocare’
ib. 456-9.
[67] εἰ δέ τις εἰς τὸ πὼς ἔχον συντάττοι τὰς πλείστας κατηγορίας, ὥσπερ οἱ
Στωϊκοί Dexipp. Arist. cat. p. 34, 19 (Arnim ii 399).

[68] τὰ μὲν ποιὰ περὶ τὴν ὕλην πὼς ἔχοντα, τὰ ἰδίως δὲ πὼς ἔχοντα περὶ τὰ
ποιὰ Plot. Enn. vi 1, 30 (Arnim ii 400).
[69] ἡ δὲ [ἕξις] ἐστὶ πνεῦμα ἀναστρέφον ἐφ’ ἑαυτό Philo quod deus, § 35
(Arnim ii 458).
[70] οὐδὲν ἄλλο τὰς ἕξεις πλὴν ἀέρας εἶναι [Χρύσιππός] φησιν· ὑπὸ τούτων
γὰρ συνέχεται τὰ σώματα Plut. Sto. rep. 43, 2; ‘esse autem unitatem in aere vel
ex hoc intellegi potest, quod corpora nostra inter se cohaerent. quid est enim
aliud quod teneret illa, quam spiritus?’ Sen. N. Q. ii 6, 6.
[71] ἡ δὲ φύσις διατείνει καὶ ἐπὶ τὰ φυτά. καὶ ἐν ἡμῖν δέ ἐστιν ἐοικότα φυτοῖς,
ὄνυχές τε καὶ τρίχες· ἐστὶ δὲ ἡ φύσις ἕξις ἤδη κινουμένη Philo Leg. Alleg. ii § 22
(Arnim ii 458).
[72] ψυχὴ δέ ἐστι φύσις προσειληφυῖα φαντασίαν καὶ ὁρμήν. αὔτη κοινὴ καὶ
τῶν ἀλόγων ἐστίν ib.
[73] ‘voluntas non erit recta, nisi habitus animi rectus fuerit; habitus porro
animi non erit in optimo, nisi totius vitae leges perceperit’ Sen. Ep. 95, 57.
[74] ‘virtus autem nihil aliud est quam animus quodam modo se habens’ ib.
113, 2.
[75] ‘Relative position’ must be distinguished from ‘correlation’ (πρός τι).
Such terms as ‘sweet’ and ‘bitter,’ ‘living’ and ‘dead’ are said to be correlated.
Simpl. Arist. cat. p. 42 Ε (Arnim ii 403).
[76] Simpl. as in last note.
[77] See below, § 337.
[78] So Ar. Did. fr. 28, and, more exactly, Alex. Aph. de mixt. p. 216, 14 Br.
(Arnim ii 473). Another division is as follows: ‘quaedam continua esse corpora,
ut hominem; quaedam esse composita, ut navem; quaedam ex distantibus,
tanquam exercitus, populus, senatus’ Sen. Ep. 102, 6.
[79] οἱ δὲ ἀπὸ τῆς Στοᾶς ... διὰ παντὸς ὁρῶντες τοῦ σώματος καὶ τὴν ψυχὴν
χωροῦσαν καὶ τὰς ποιότητας, ἐν ταῖς κράσεσι συνεχώρουν σῶμα διὰ σώματος
χωρεῖν Simpl. Arist. phys. p. 530, 9 (Arnim ii 467).
[80] Arnim ii 411 and 467.
[81] τὸ φῶς δὲ τῷ ἀέρι ὁ Χρύσιππος κιρνᾶσθαι λέγει Alex. Aph. de mixt. p.
216, 14 (Arnim ii 473).
[82] ‘Stoici enim volunt deum sic per materiam decucurrisse, quomodo mel
per favos’ Tertull. adv. Hermog. 44; and see below, § 207.
[83] Note 2 above.
[84] ὅλον μὲν γὰρ λέγουσι τὸν κόσμον Achill. Is. 5, p. 129 (Arnim ii 523).
[85] See Rendall, M. Aurelius Introd. p. xxix.
[86] ὁ τὸν ὅλον κόσμον συντάττων τε καὶ συνέχων Xen. Mem. iv 3, 13.
[87] ib. i 1, 11.
[88] See below, § 193.

[89] ‘in rerum, inquiunt, natura quaedam sunt, quaedam non sunt; et haec
autem, quae non sunt, rerum natura complectitur’ Sen. Ep. 58, 15.
[90] ὅλον μὲν γὰρ λέγουσι τὸν κόσμον· πᾶν δὲ μετὰ τοῦ κενοῦ Achill. Isag. 5,
p. 129 (Arnim ii 523).
[91] Sen. as above.
[92] τῶν δὲ ἀσωμάτων τέσσαρα εἴδη καταριθμοῦνται, ὡς λεκτὸν καὶ κενὸν
καὶ τόπον καὶ χρόνον Sext. math. x 218 (Arnim ii 331).
[93] ‘etiam nunc est aliquid superius quam corpus. dicimus enim quaedam
corporalia esse, quaedam incorporalia, quid ergo erit ex quo haec deducantur?
illud, cui nomen modo parum proprium imposuimus, “quod est”’ Sen. Ep. 58,
11.
[94] οἱ Στωϊκοί, ὡς οἱ περὶ τὸν Βασιλείδην, οἷς ἔδοξε μηδὲν εἶναι ἀσώματον
Sext. math. viii 258.
[95] ἐκεῖνοι [οἱ Στωϊκοὶ] νομοθετήσαντες αὑτοῖς τὸ ὂν κατὰ σωμάτων μόνων
λέγεσθαι ... τὸ τὶ γενικώτερον αὐτοῦ φασιν εἶναι, κατηγορούμενον οὐ κατὰ
σωμάτων μόνον, ἀλλὰ καὶ κατὰ ἀσωμάτων Alex. Aphr. Arist. Top. iv p. 155
(Arnim ii 329); ‘primum genus Stoicis quibusdam videtur “quid”’ Sen. Ep. 58,
15.
[96] ‘animalia sunt omnia, quae cogitamus quaeque mente complectimur;
sequitur ut multa milia animalium habitent in his angustiis pectoris, et singuli
multa simus animalia. non sunt, inquit, multa, quia ex uno religata sunt et partes
unius ac membra sunt’ Sen. Ep. 113, 3 and 9 (Seneca himself does not agree
with this way of speaking).
[97] ἡ δὲ ἀλήθεια σῶμά ἐστιν παρ’ ὅσον ἐπιστήμη πάντων ἀληθῶν
ἀποφαντικὴ δοκεῖ τυγχάνειν· πᾶσα δὲ ἐπιστήμη πὼς ἔχον ἐστὶν ἡγεμονικόν ... τὸ
δὲ ἡγεμονικὸν σῶμα κατὰ τούτους ὑπῆρχε Sext. math. vii 38 (Zeller, p. 129).
[98] τὰ ἐννοήματά φασι μήτε τινὰ εἶναι μήτε ποιά, ὡσανεὶ δὲ τινὰ καὶ ὡσανεὶ
ποιὰ φαντάσματα ψυχῆς Ar. Did. fr. 40 (Diels).
[99] οὔτε ἀληθεῖς οὔτε ψευδεῖς εἰσιν αἱ γενικαὶ [φαντασίαι] Sext. math. vii
246.
[100] ‘haec ... quae animo succurrunt, tanquam Centauri, gigantes, et quicquid
aliud falsa cogitatione formatum habere aliquam imaginem coepit, quamvis non
habeat substantiam’ Sen. Ep. 58, 15.
[101] οὐδὲν οὖν ἔτι δεῖ λέγειν τὸν χρόνον, τὸ κατηγόρημα, τὸ ἀξίωμα, τὸ
συνημμένον, τὸ συμπεπλεγμένον· οἷς χρῶνται μὲν μάλιστα τῶν φιλοσόφων,
ὄντα δὲ οὐ λέγουσιν εἶναι Plut. comm. not. 30, 12.
[102] See below, § 287.
[103] δοκεῖ δὲ αὐτοῖς ἀρχὰς εἶναι τῶν ὅλων δύο, τὸ ποιοῦν καὶ τὸ πάσχον,
κ.τ.λ. Diog. L. vii 134.
[104] ib.; οἱ ἀπὸ τῆς Στοᾶς δύο λέγοντες ἀρχάς, θεὸν καὶ ἄποιον ὕλην Sext.
math. ix 11 (Arnim ii 301).
[105] ‘dicunt, ut scis, Stoici nostri, duo esse in rerum natura, ex quibus omnia
fiant, causam et materiam. materia iacet iners, res ad omnia parata, cessatura si

nemo moveat; causa autem, id est ratio, materiam format et quocunque vult
versat’ Sen. Ep. 65, 2; ‘universa ex materia et ex deo constant. deus ista
temperat, quae circumfusa rectorem sequuntur. potentius autem est ac pretiosius
quod facit, quod est deus, quam materia patiens dei’ ib. 23.
[106] ἄλλων δὲ καὶ ποιητικὴν μὲν αἰτίαν ἀπολειπόντων, ἀχώριστον δὲ ταύτην
τῆς ὕλης, καθάπερ οἱ Στωϊκοί Syrianus Arist. met. (Arnim ii 308). ‘Stoici
naturam in duas partes dividunt, unam quae efficiat, alteram quae se ad
faciendum tractabilem praebeat. in illa prima esse vim sentiendi, in hac
materiam; nec alterum sine altero [esse] posse’ Lact. Div. inst. vii 3.
[107] ‘neque enim materiam ipsam cohaerere potuisse, si nulla vi contineretur,
neque vim sine ulla materia’ Cic. Ac. i 6, 24.
[108] Arnim ii 418; ‘e quibus [elementis] aer et ignis movendi vim habent et
efficiendi; reliquae partes accipiendi et quasi patiendi, aquam dico et terram’
Cic. Ac. i 7, 26.
[109] κατὰ τοὺς Στωϊκούς, ἐκ τῆς τῶν τεσσάρων στοιχείων κράσεως
γινομένου τοῦ σώματος Justin de res. 6 (Arnim ii 414).
[110] ὅσα τοίνυν σώματα πρῶτον τὰς τοιαύτας ἔχει ποιότητας, ἐκεῖνα
στοιχεῖα τῶν ἄλλων ἁπάντων ἐστὶ καὶ τῆς σαρκός· ἔστι δὲ ταῦτα γῆ καὶ ὕδωρ
καὶ ἀὴρ καὶ πῦρ Galen const. art. med. i p. 251 K (Arnim ii 405).
[111] Galen meth. med. i 2, X p. 15 K (Arnim ii 411).
[112] See below, § 196.
[113] Cf. Mahaffy’s Greek Life and Thought; ‘it is quite wrong to suppose that
these thinkers [Zeno and Epicurus], busy as they were with practical life,
despised or avoided speculation. Their philosophical theories demand hard
reading and hard thinking’ p. 137.

CHAPTER VIII.
THE UNIVERSE.

Study of the 192. In including in their system the study of the
heavens. physical universe the Stoics broke daringly with
Socrates and his faithful followers the Cynics. These had
joined with the ignorant and the prejudiced[1] in ridiculing those whose eyes
were always turned up towards the sky, whilst they saw nothing of things
that were nearer at hand and concerned them more closely. But it was not
for nothing that the most highly civilised nations of antiquity, Egyptians,
Chaldaeans, and Babylonians, had studied the starry heavens, mapped out
the constellations, measured the paths of the wandering stars, predicted
eclipses, reckoned with the tides, the seasons, and the winds; with the result
that their successors defied the common opinion by declaring the earth to be
a sphere, and to hold inhabitants whom they called Antipodes, because they
walk with their feet turned up towards ours[2]. All this body of knowledge,
called generically the knowledge of the sky (though it included the whole
physical geography of the earth), had impressed and fascinated the Eastern
world. It seemed that as the eyes were raised to the sky, so the mind of man
was elevated and made ampler and nobler[3], leaving behind it the petty
contentions and rivalries of common life; and further that true knowledge
had surely been reached, when the positions of the heavenly bodies and the
eclipses of sun and moon could be predicted so long before with unfailing
accuracy. These feelings are now commonplaces of literature, and were
fully shared by the Stoics. ‘Is not the sun,’ says Seneca, ‘worthy of our
gaze, the moon of our regard? When the sky displays its fires at night, and
countless stars flash forth, who is not absorbed in contemplation of them?
They glide past in their company, concealing swift motion under the
outward appearance of immobility. We comprehend the movements of a
few of them, but the greater number are beyond our ken. Their dignity fills
all our thoughts[4].’ In the golden age which preceded our iron civilisation
‘men lay at nights in the open fields, and watched the glorious spectacle of
the heavens. It was their delight to note the stars that sank in one quarter

and rose in another. The universe swept round them, performing its
magnificent task in silence[5].’ ‘Their order never changes, spring and
autumn, winter and summer succeed according to fixed laws[6].’ And in the
same tone writes the Stoic poet: ‘unshaken the lights of heaven ever move
onwards in their proper orbit[7].’ The emotion roused in the Stoic by the
contemplation of the sky was thus identical with that expressed in Judaic
poetry by the ‘Song of the Three Holy Children[8],’ and in more modern
times by Addison’s famous hymn[9].
The world-order. 193. The phenomena of earth and heaven combined,
in the general opinion of intelligent men, to show the
existence of a ‘world-order’ or ‘universe[10].’ The Stoics accepted this
conception in their physics from Heraclitus, who had declared that ‘neither
god nor man created this world-order,’ as in their ethics from Diogenes, the
‘citizen of the universe[11].’ They therefore needed only to adjust an
established notion to their own physical postulates. We observe at once that
the very conception of an ordered whole differentiates that whole from the
absolute totality of all things. The universe is indeed on the one hand
identified with the substance of all things (οὐσία τῶν ὅλων), but only as a
thing made individual by the possession of quality (ἰδίως ποιόν)[12], and
necessarily one[13]. It is self-created; and it may therefore be identified with
its creator, the deity[14]; it also includes all that is bodily[15]; but outside
there remains the boundless void[16]. It is therefore defined by Chrysippus
as ‘the combination of heaven and earth and all natures that are in them,’ or
alternatively as ‘the combination of gods and men and all that is created for
their sake[17].’
Its position. 194. The Stoic conception of the universe is therefore
that of a continuous body, having a definite outline, and
stationed in the boundless void. That the universe has shape the Stoics
deduce from its having ‘nature’ (φύσις), that is, the principle of growth,
displayed in the symmetry of its parts[18]; and its shape is the perfect shape
of a sphere[19]. Within this sphere all things tend towards the middle[20]; and
we use the terms ‘down’ meaning ‘towards the middle,’ and ‘up’ meaning
thereby from the middle[21]. The Peripatetics are therefore needlessly
alarmed, when they tell us that our universe will fall down, if it stands in the

void; for, first, there is no ‘up’ or ‘down’ outside the universe; and,
secondly, the universe possesses ‘unity’ (ἕξις)[22] which keeps it
together[23]. And here we see the folly of Epicurus, who says that the atoms
move downwards from eternity in the boundless void; for there is no such
thing as ‘downwards’ in that which is unlimited[24]. Further, the universe is
divided into two parts, the earth (with the water and the air surrounding it)
which is stable in the middle, and the sky or aether which revolves around
it[25].
The heliocentric 195. Thus early in their theory the Stoics were led to
theory. make two assertions on questions of scientific fact, in
which they opposed the best scientific opinion of their
own time. For many authorities held that the earth revolved on its axis, and
that the revolution of the sky was only apparent. Such were Hicetas of
Syracuse[26], a Pythagorean philosopher, whose views were quoted with
approval by Theophrastus, and later Ecphantus the Pythagorean, and
Heraclides of Pontus[27]. From the point of view of astronomical science
this view seemed well worthy of consideration, as Seneca in particular
emphasizes[28]. Other astronomers had gone further, declaring that the sun
lay in the centre, and that the earth and other planets revolved round it.
Theophrastus stated that Plato himself in his old age had felt regret that he
had wrongly placed the earth in the centre of the universe; and the
heliocentric view was put forward tentatively by Aristarchus of Samos,
and positively by the astronomer Seleucus, in connexion with the theory of
the earth’s rotation[29]. For this Cleanthes had said that the Greeks should
have put Aristarchus on trial for impiety, as one who proposed to disturb
‘the hearth of the universe[30].’ This outburst of persecuting zeal,
anticipating so remarkably the persecution of Galileo, was effective in
preventing the spread of the novel doctrine. Posidonius was a great
astronomer, and recognised the heliocentric doctrine as theoretically
possible[31]; indeed, as one who had himself constructed an orrery, shewing
the motion of all the planets[32], he must have been aware of its superior
simplicity. Nevertheless he opposed it vigorously on theological grounds,
and perhaps more than any other man was responsible for its being pushed
aside for some 1500 years[33]. The precise ground of the objection is not
made very clear to us, and probably it was instinctive rather than reasoned.

It could hardly be deemed impious to place the sun, whom the Stoics
acknowledged as a deity, in the centre of the universe; but that the earth
should be reckoned merely as one of his attendant planets was humiliating
to human self-esteem, and jeopardised the doctrine of Providence, in
accordance with which the universe was created for the happiness of gods
and men only.
The elements. 196. Having determined that the earth is the centre of
the universe, and the sun above it, the way is clear to
incorporate in the system the doctrine of the four elements (στοιχεῖα,
naturae)[34], which probably had its origin in a cruder form of physical
speculation than the doctrine of the heavenly bodies. As we have seen
above[35], the elements are not first principles of the Stoic physics, but hold
an intermediate position between the two principles of the active and the
passive on the one hand, and the organic and inorganic world on the other.
Earth is the lowest of the elements, and also the grossest; above it is placed
water, then air, then fire; and these are in constant interchange, earth turning
to water, this into air, and this into aether, and so again in return. By this
interchange the unity of the universe is maintained[36]. The transition from
one element to the next is not abrupt, but gradual; the lowest part of the
aether is akin to air[37]; it is therefore of no great importance whether we
speak with Heraclitus of three elements, or with Empedocles of four. The
two grosser elements, earth and water, tend by nature downwards and are
passive; air and fire tend upwards and are active[38]. Zeno did not think it
necessary to postulate a fifth element as the substance of soul, for he held
that fire was its substance[39].
Fire and breath. 197. Fire, heat, and motion are ultimately identical,
and are the source of all life[40]. Thus the elemental and
primary fire stands in contrast with the fire of domestic use; the one creates
and nourishes, the other destroys[41]. It follows that fire, though it is one of
the four elements, has from its divine nature a primacy amongst the
elements[42], which corresponds to its lofty position in the universe[43]; and
the other elements in turn all contain some proportion of fire. Thus although
air has cold and darkness as primary and essential qualities[44], nevertheless
it cannot exist without some share of warmth[45]. Hence air also may be
associated with life, and it is possible to retain the popular term ‘spirit’

(πνεῦμα, spiritus) for the principle of life. In the development of the Stoic
philosophy we seldom hear again of air in connexion with coldness; and
between the ‘warm breath’ (anima inflammata) and the primary fire there is
hardly a distinction; we may even say that ‘spirit’ has the highest possible
tension[46].
God in the stone. 198. Air on its downward path changes to water. This
change is described as due to loss of heat[47], and yet
water too has some heat and vitality[48]. Even earth, the lowest and grossest
of the elements, contains a share of the divine heat; otherwise it could not
feed living plants and animals, much less send up exhalations with which to
feed the sun and stars[49]. Thus we may say even of a stone that it has a part
of the divinity in it[50]. Here then we see the reverse side of the so-called
Stoic materialism. If it is true that God is body, and that the soul is body, it
is equally true that even water, the damp and cold element, and earth, the
dry and cold element, are both penetrated by the divinity, by the creative
fire without the operation of which both would fall in an instant into
nothingness[51].
The heavenly 199. We return to the consideration of the heavenly
bodies. bodies. These are set in spheres of various diameter, all
alike revolving around the earth. The succession we find
described in Plato’s Timaeus[52]; the moon is nearest to the earth, then
comes the sun, then in order Venus, Mercury, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn. This
theory was taken up by Aristotle and after him by Eudoxus, from whom it
passed to Aratus and Chrysippus[53]. A tradition derived from Chaldaean
sources gave a different order, setting Venus and Mercury nearer to the
earth than the sun; and this order was accepted by the middle Stoics, that is
to say by Panaetius and Posidonius, the latter placing Venus nearer to the
earth, and therefore further from the sun, than Mercury[54]. The moon, like
the earth, obtains her light from the sun, being crescent-shaped when
nearest to him, full-orbed when furthest away. Her distance from the earth
is two million stadia (250,000 miles); when she lies between the earth and
the sun she eclipses his light, but when she is on the side of the earth
directly away from the sun she is herself eclipsed[55]. Her phases are
explained by her position relative to the sun[56]. The sun is 60 millions of
miles from the earth[57]; his diameter is 37½ times as large as that of the

earth[58]; he appears larger when on the horizon because his rays are
refracted through the thick atmosphere[59]. The planets, whether they
revolve round the earth or the sun, are falsely called ‘wandering stars,’ since
their orbits have been fixed from all eternity[60]. The fixed stars revolve
round the earth at such a distance that the earth, when compared with it, is
merely the central point[61]. All the heavenly bodies are, like the earth, of
spherical form[62]. Finally Seneca, in advance of the school, declared the
comets to be a regular part of the celestial world[62a].
Cruder theories. 200. Whilst the Stoics generally were in sympathy
with the best astronomical teaching of their time, they
combined with it many views based on much cruder forms of observation.
Even Seneca thinks it bold to suggest that the sun is not a little larger than
the whole earth[63]; and it is commonly held that not only the sun and moon,
but also the heavenly bodies generally, feed upon moist exhalations from
the Ocean[64]. Cleanthes in particular seems to have viewed the astronomers
with suspicion. He alone regarded the moon not as a sphere, but as a
hemisphere with the flat side turned towards us[65]; the stars he considered
to be conical[66]. These views, very probably derived from Heraclitus, seem
to point to the conception of the sky or aether as a single fixed fiery sphere,
in which the heavenly bodies only differ from the surrounding element by
containing more closely packed masses of fiery matter[67]; a conception
which harmonizes far more closely with the Stoic theory of the elements
than the doctrines which are astronomically more correct. Cleanthes also
explained that the sun could not venture to travel beyond his solstitial
positions, lest he should be out of reach of his terrestrial food[68]. And
Cleanthes and Posidonius agree that the sun keeps within the ‘torrid zone’
of the sky, because beneath it flows the Ocean, from which the sun sucks up
his nutriment[69].
Deity of the stars. 201. From the relation of the heavenly bodies to the
element of fire the Stoics draw the conclusion that they
are animated, reasoning, self-determined, and divine; in short, that they are
gods[70]. This godhead pertains particularly to the sun[71]. Of this doctrine
Cleanthes is especially the upholder[72], deeming that the sun is the ruling
power in the universe, as reason in man[73]. It is not clear whether the Stoics

derived their theory of the divinity of the heavenly bodies from logical
deduction, or whether they were here incorporating some Eastern worship.
In favour of the latter point of view is the consideration that at this time the
association of Mithra with the sun was probably making some progress in
the Persian religion, and that the popular names of the seven days of the
week, following the names of the sun, moon, and five planets, must have
been already current.
Deity of the 202. But in the Stoic system this doctrine is
universe. overshadowed by the paradox that the universe itself is a
rational animal, possessed of free-will and divine. This
is the teaching of all the masters of the school, beginning with Zeno
himself. It appeared to him to follow logically from two principles, the first
that the universe possesses a unity, the second that the whole is greater than
its parts. ‘There cannot be a sentient part of a non-sentient whole. But the
parts of the universe are sentient; therefore the universe is sentient[74].’ ‘The
rational is better than the non-rational. But nothing is better than the
universe; therefore the universe is rational[75].’ ‘The universe is one[76]’; we
must not therefore think of it as of an army or a family, which comes into a
kind of existence merely through the juxtaposition of its members. By the
same reasoning the universe possesses divinity[77]. Upon this favourite
Stoic text is based the frequent assertion of modern commentators that the
philosophy is pantheistic[78]; but the more central position of Stoicism is
that the deity bears the same relation to the universe as a man’s soul to his
body[79], and the universe is therefore no more all divine than a man is all
soul. This view is expressed with great clearness by Varro, who says: ‘As a
man is called wise, being wise in mind, though he consists of mind and
body; so the world is called God from its soul, though it consists of soul and
body[80].’ The Stoics are however in strong conflict with the Epicureans and
all philosophers who hold that the world is fundamentally all matter, and
that soul and mind are developments from matter. ‘Nothing that is without
mind can generate that which possesses mind,’ says Cicero’s Stoic[81], in
full opposition to modern popular theories of evolution. Further, just as it
may be questioned in the case of man whether the soul is situated in the
head or in the heart, so in the case of the universe we may doubt whether its
soul, or rather its ‘principate,’ is in the sun, as Cleanthes held[82], or in the

sky generally, as Chrysippus and Posidonius maintain[83], or in the aether,
as Antipater of Tyre taught[84].
The earth’s 203. In the study of the universe we are not called
inhabitants. upon merely to consider the earth as a member of the
celestial company; we have to contemplate it as the
home of beings of various ranks, which also display to us the principle of
orderly arrangement. Preëminent amongst the inhabitants of the earth stands
man, who is distinguished by being the sole possessor of the faculty of
reason, and in addition owns all those capacities which are shewn in beings
of lower rank. The nature of man constitutes so large a part of philosophy
that we must reserve its full consideration for a special chapter[85]; and must
restrict ourselves here to treating of lower beings, which fall into the three
orders of animals, plants, and inanimate beings. But since each of the higher
orders possesses all the properties of every order that stands lower, the
study of the orders inferior to man is also the study of a large part of human
nature. The number and classification of these orders are not to be treated
mechanically. From one point of view gods and men form one class, the
rational, as opposed to every kind of non-rational being. On the other hand,
from the standpoint with which we are rather concerned at this moment,
gods, men, and animals are subdivisions of the order of animate beings,
below which stand the plants, and lower still things without life. Animals,
as the name indicates, possess life or soul; the two lower orders possess
something corresponding to soul, but lower in degree. The general term
which includes soul in the animal and that which corresponds to it in the
plants and in lifeless bodies is ‘spirit’ (πνεῦμα); soul therefore is the highest
type of ‘spirit.’
The animals have 204. To the dumb animals the Stoics consistently deny
not reason the faculty of reason; and this position must have
seemed to them self-evident, since the same word Logos
expresses in the Greek both reason and speech. In the Latin the point was
no longer so clear; still the words ‘ratio’ and ‘oratio,’ if not identical,
appeared to be connected by a natural association. Since the animals then
are necessarily unreasoning, those acts of animals which appear to show
reason must be explained in some other way. A dog pursues a wild animal
by its scent; it must therefore be admitted that in a way the dog recognises
that ‘this scent is the sign of the wild animal[86]’; still he is incapable of

expressing this belief in the form of a correct syllogism. The industry of the
ant is disposed of in a more summary way; this animal shows a ‘restless
helplessness,’ climbing up and down straws in meaningless industry; many
men however are no wiser[87]. For their young the animals have a certain
feeling, yet their grief at losing them is comparatively short-lived[88]. In
spite, however, of these limitations the animal world is one part of the
wonders of nature, and is deserving of our admiration; all animals have
strong affection for their young so long as these need their protection[89],
and the dog deserves special recognition both for his keen intelligence and
for his loyalty towards his master[90].
but a sort of reason. 205. To define more accurately the nature of animals
we must to some extent anticipate the discussion of
human nature in a later chapter, which follows the same general lines: for in
every point the animals are like men, but inferior. They possess soul, but
without reason[91]; by soul we here mean the twin powers of observation
and of independent movement[92]. In a rough way the animals also possess
a ruling part[93]. Their power of observation enables them to distinguish
what is healthful to them from that which is injurious; their power of
movement shapes itself into pursuit of the healthful and avoidance of the
injurious[94]. They possess also properties which resemble the human
feelings, such as anger, confidence, hope, fear; but they do not in a strict
sense possess the same feelings as men[95]. As they cannot attain to virtue,
neither can they fall into vice[96].
Plant life. 206. From the animals we pass to the plants. These
seem to have soul, because they live and die[97]; yet they
have not soul in any strict sense of the word. It will therefore be better not
to use this word, but to speak of the ‘growth-power’ (φύσις)[98]. The
governing part is situated in the root[99]. The growth of plants both in size
and in strength is very remarkable, inasmuch as little seeds, which at first
find themselves place in crevices, attain such power that they split huge
rocks and destroy noble monuments, thus illustrating what is meant by tone
or tension; for it is a spirit which starts from the governing part (the root)
and spreads to the trunk and branches, conveying a force equally strong to
construct and to destroy[100]. From another point of view we may say that
the seed contains the Logos or law of the fully developed plant, for under

no possible circumstances can any other plant grow from that seed except
the plant of its kind[101].
Cohesion. 207. Lowest in the scale come inanimate objects, such
as stones[102]. Yet even these have a property which
corresponds to soul, and which keeps them together in a particular outward
form or shape; this property we call ‘cohesion’ (ἕξις, unitas)[103]; like soul
itself, it is a spirit pervading the whole[104], and again it is the Logos of the
whole. An external force cannot impart this unity: so that the water
contained in a glass is not an ‘inanimate object’ in this sense[105]. In this
lowest grade of ‘spirit’ we read in Stoicism the antithesis of the materialism
of Epicurus, who postulates for his ‘atoms’ the fundamental property of
indivisibility, and can only account for the coherence of the bodies formed
from them by supplying them with an elaborate system of ‘hooks and eyes,’
which was a frequent subject of derision to his critics. Epicurus makes the
indivisibility of the smallest thing his starting-point, and from it constructs
by degrees a compacted universe by arithmetical combination; the Stoics
start from the indivisibility of the great whole, and working downwards
explain its parts by a gradual shedding of primitive force. God is in fact in
the stone by virtue of his power of universal penetration (κρᾶσις δι’ ὅλων)
[106]
.
Gradations of spirit.208. No existing thing can possess one of the higher
grades of spirit without also possessing all the lower.
Stones therefore have cohesion, plants growth and cohesion, animals soul
growth and cohesion; for these are not different qualities which can be
combined by addition, but appearances of the same fundamental quality in
varying intensity. Man clearly possesses cohesion, for he has an outward
shape; there does not however seem to be any part of him which has merely
cohesion. But in the bones, the nails, and the hair are found growth and
cohesion only, and these parts grow as the plants do. In the eyes, ears and
nose, are sensation, as well as growth and cohesion; that is, there is soul in
the sense in which the animals possess soul. It is the intelligence only which
in man possesses soul in the highest grade[107].
The conflagration. 209. This universe, in spite of its majesty, beauty and
adaptation, in spite of its apparent equipoise and its
essential divinity, is destined to perish. ‘Where the parts are perishable, so is

the whole; but the parts of the universe are perishable, for they change one
into another; therefore the universe is perishable[108].’ Possibly this
syllogism would not have appeared so cogent to the Stoics, had they not
long before adopted from Heraclitus the impressive belief in the final
conflagration, familiar to us from its description in the ‘second epistle of
Peter[109].’ According to this theory, the interchange of the elements already
described[110] is not evenly balanced, but the upward movement is slightly
in excess. In the course of long ages, therefore, all the water will have been
converted into air and fire, and the universe will become hot with flame[111].
Then the earth and all upon it will become exhausted for want of moisture,
and the heavenly bodies themselves will lose their vitality for want of the
exhalations on which they feed. Rivers will cease to flow, the earth will
quake, great cities will be swallowed up, star will collide with star. All
living things will die, and even the souls of the blest and the gods
themselves will once more be absorbed in the fire, which will thus regain its
primitive and essential unity[112]. Yet we may not say that the universe dies,
for it does not suffer the separation of soul from body[113].
Is the universe 210. In connexion with the doctrine of the
perishable? conflagration the Stoics were called upon to take sides
upon the favourite philosophic problem whether the
universe is perishable, as Democritus and Epicurus hold, or imperishable, as
the Peripatetics say[114]. In replying to this question, as in the theory as a
whole, they relied on the authority of Heraclitus[115]. The word universe is
used in two senses: there is an eternal universe (namely that already
described as the universal substance made individual by the possession of
quality[116]), which persists throughout an unending series of creations and
conflagrations[117]. In another sense the universe, considered in relation to
its present ordering, is perishable[118]. Just in the same way the word ‘city’
is used in two senses; and that which is a community of citizens may
endure, even though the collection of temples and houses also called the
‘city’ is destroyed by fire[119].
Dissentient Stoics. 211. The doctrine of the conflagration was not
maintained by all Stoic teachers with equal conviction.
Zeno treated it with fulness in his book ‘on the universe[120]’; and Cleanthes
and Chrysippus both assert that the whole universe is destined to change

into fire, returning to that from which, as from a seed, it has sprung[121]. In
the transition period, owing to the positive influence of Plato and Aristotle,
and the critical acumen of Carneades, many leading Stoics abandoned the
theory[122]. Posidonius however, though a pupil of Panaetius (the most
conspicuous of the doubters[123]), was quite orthodox on this subject;
though he pays to his master the tribute of asserting that the universe is the
most permanent being imaginable[124], and that its existence will continue
through an immense and almost unlimited period of time[125]. In the Roman
period the conflagration is not only an accepted dogma, but one that makes
a strong appeal to the feelings. For with the conflagration there comes to an
end the struggle of the evil against the good; and the Deity may at last claim
for himself a period of rest, during which he will contemplate with
calmness the history of the universe that has passed away[126], and plan for
himself a better one to follow[127].
The reconstruction. 212. Upon the conflagration will follow the
reconstruction of the world (παλιγγενεσία, renovatio),
which will lead again to a conflagration; the period between one
conflagration and the next being termed a ‘great year’ (περίοδος, magnus
annus). The conception of the ‘great year’ was borrowed by the Stoics from
the Pythagoreans[128], and leads us back ultimately to astronomical
calculations; for a great year is the period at the end of which sun, moon
and planets all return to their original stations[129]. The phenomena of the
sky recur in each new period in the same way as before; and hence we
readily infer that all the phenomena of the universe, including the lives of
individuals, will recur and take their course again. Although this doctrine
appears only slightly connected with the general Stoic system, it was an
accepted part of it: and Seneca expresses an instinctive and probably
universal feeling when he says that few would willingly repeat their past
histories, if they knew they were so doing[130].
Creation. 213. We have put off till the end of this chapter the
discussion of the Stoic theory of Creation, because it is
in fact one of the least defined parts of the system. According to the theory
of the great year creation is not a single work, but a recurring event; and
therefore in one sense the history of the universe has neither beginning nor
end. It would however be a mistake to suppose that this point of view was

always present to the minds of Stoic teachers. The question of the beginning
of things is of primary importance to every philosophy, and the Stoics
approached it from many points of view, popular, scientific, mythological
and theological, and gave a number of answers accordingly. To the orthodox
Stoic all these answers are ultimately one, though the language in which
they are expressed differs greatly; whilst the critic of Stoicism would assert
that they are derived from different sources and are fundamentally
irreconcileable. Seneca suggests four answers to the question ‘Who made
the universe?’ It may be an omnipotent deity; or the impersonal Logos; or
the divine Spirit working in all things by tension; or (lastly) destiny, that is,
the unalterable succession of cause and result[131]. These answers we may
examine in order.
The golden age. 214. The view that ‘God made the world’ is that of the
theology which was now everywhere becoming popular;
and it is usually associated, even when expounded by Stoic teachers, with
dualistic views. Before the creation there existed a chaos, matter without
shape, dark and damp[132]; the Deity formed a plan, and brought life order
and light into the mass: from ‘chaos’ it became ‘cosmos’[133]. This deity is
the same that is commonly named Ζεύς[134] or Jove, and is called the ‘father
of gods and men.’ The universe so created was at first happy and innocent,
as is expressed in the tradition of the Golden Age. Men lived together in
societies, willingly obeying the wisest and strongest of their number[135];
none were tempted to wrong their neighbours. They dwelt in natural grottos
or in the stems of trees, and obtained nourishment from tame animals and
wild fruits. Little by little they made progress in the arts, and learnt to build,
to bake, and to make use of metals. These views were especially developed
by Posidonius, who believed that in the Mysians of his day, who lived on
milk and honey, and abstained from flesh-meat, he could still trace the
manners of this happy epoch[136]. It seems probable that it was from
Posidonius, rather than from the Pythagoreans, that Varro derived his
picture of the Golden Age, which has become familiar to us in turn through
the version given by Ovid in his Metamorphoses[137].
Older stoic theory. 215. These conceptions however are only familiar in
the later forms of Stoicism. The teaching of the founders
of Stoicism is on this matter monistic, and is based upon the teaching of

Heraclitus that the world was in the beginning a creative fire, which was
alike the creator and the material of creation. The process of creation
(διακόσμησις) may be regarded as identical with that of the mutation of the
elements on the downward path[138]; with the special note that when the
stage of water is reached[139] the deity assumes the shape of the seed Logos
(σπερματικὸς λόγος)[140], and begets in the first instance the four
elements[141]; then, from a combination of these, trees and animals and all
other things after their kind[142]. Yet even this statement is simplified if we
regard the original fire as itself containing the seed Logoi of all things that
are to be created[143]. To this is to be added that all this is well ordered, as in
a duly constituted state[144]. From this point of view the Cosmos is a
Cosmopolis, and we reach the border of the investigations which deal with
the moral government of the universe, and the political organization of
mankind.
Summary. 216. We may sum up the history of the universe
according to the Stoics somewhat in the following way.
Body is neither burden on the soul nor its instrument, but all body is of
itself instinct with motion, warmth, and life, which are essentially the same.
This motion is not entirely that of contraction, or immobility would result;
nor entirely that of expansion, else the universe would be scattered into the
far distance[145]. One of these motions constantly succeeds the other, as
Heraclitus says ‘becoming extinguished by measure, and catching light by
measure[146]’; as when a swimmer with all his strength can just hold his
own against the force of the stream, or a bird straining its pinions appears to
rest suspended in the air[147]. At the beginning of each world-period
expansion or tension is supreme, and only the world-soul exists. Next the
fiery breath begins to cool, the opposing principle of contraction asserts
itself, the universe settles down and shrinks; the aether passes into air, and
air in its turn to water. All this while tension is slackening, first in the
centre, lastly even in the circumference; yet the vital force is not entirely
quenched; beneath the covering of the waters lurks the promise of a new
world. The fire still unextinguished within works upon the watery mass or
chaos until it evolves from it the four elements as we know them. On its
outer edge where it meets the expansive aether, the water rarefies until the
belt of air is formed. All the while the outward and inward movements

persist; particles of fire still pass into air, and thence into water and earth.
Earth still in turn yields to water, water to air, and air to fire (ὁδὸς ἄνω
κάτω). Thus by the interaction of conflicting tendencies an equilibrium
(ἰσονομία) is established, and the result is the apparent permanence of the
phenomenal world[148]. Finally the upward movement becomes slightly
preponderant, water becomes absorbed in air and air transformed into fire,
once more the conflagration results and all the world passes into the fiery
breath from which it came[149].

FOOTNOTES
[1] As, for instance, Aristophanes in the Clouds.
[2] ‘vos etiam dicitis esse e regione nobis, e contraria parte terrae, qui adversis
vestigiis stent contra nostra vestigia, quos Antipodas vocatis’ Cic. Ac. ii 39, 123.
[3] ‘cum tu, inter scabiem tantam et contagia lucri, | nil parvum sapias et
adhuc sublimia cures; | quae mare compescant causae; quid temperet annum; |
stellae sponte sua iussaene vagentur et errent’ Hor. Ep. i 12, 14-17.
[4] Sen. Ben. iv 23, 2 to 4.
[5] ‘in aperto iacentes sidera superlabebantur et insigne spectaculum noctium.
mundus in praeceps agebatur silentio tantum opus ducens ... libebat intueri signa
ex media caeli parte vergentia, rursus ex occulto alia surgentia’ Ep. 90, 42.
[6] ‘[vides] ordinem rerum et naturam per constituta procedere. hiems
nunquam aberravit. aestas suo tempore incaluit. autumni verisque, ut solet, facta
mutatio est. tam solstitium quam aequinoctium suos dies rettulit’ N. Q. iii 16, 3.
[7] ‘caelestia semper | inconcussa suo volvuntur sidera lapsu’ Lucan Phars. ii
267, 8.
[8] ‘O all ye Works of the Lord, bless ye the Lord; praise and exalt him above
all for ever’ Daniel iii 57 to 82.
[9] ‘The spacious firmament on high, | with all the blue ethereal sky, | and
spangled heavens, a shining frame, | their great Original proclaim,’ etc. J.
Addison (1728).
[10] See above, § 186.
[11] See below, § 303.
[12] καὶ ἔστι κόσμος ὁ ἰδίως ποιὸς τῆς τῶν ὅλων οὐσίας Diog. L. vii 138.
[13] ὅτι θ’ εἷς ἐστιν [ὁ κόσμος] Ζήνων τέ φησιν ἐν τῷ περὶ τοῦ ὅλου καὶ
Χρύσιππος ib. 143.
[14] λέγεται δὲ ἑτέρως κόσμος ὁ θεός Stob. i 21, 5.
[15] οἱ ἀπὸ τῆς Στοᾶς ἕνα κόσμον ἀπεφήναντο, ὃν δὴ τὸ πᾶν ἔφασαν εἶναι καὶ
τὸ σωματικόν Aët. plac. i 5, 1.

[16] See § 187, note 90; Seneca however thinks there may be more outside the
universe than void; ‘illud scrutor, quod ultra mundum iacet, utrumne profunda
vastitas sit an et hoc ipsum terminis suis cludatur; qualis sit habitus exclusis’
Dial. viii 5, 6.
[17] Ar. Did. fr. 31.
[18] Arnim ii 534.
[19] Arnim ii 547.
[20] μέρη δέ ἐστιν αὐτοῦ γῆ, ὕδωρ, ἀήρ, πῦρ, ἃ πάντα νεύει ἐπὶ τὸ μέσον
Achilles Isag. 9 (Arnim ii 554). But according to another view only earth and
water, being naturally heavy, tend towards the middle; whereas air and fire,
being naturally light, tend from it; ib. 4 (Arnim ii 555). See § 196.
[21] Arnim ii 557.
[22] See above, § 184.
[23] Arnim ii 540. The universe, being ‘body,’ possesses ‘up’ and ‘down,’
‘front’ and ‘back,’ and all the other relations, according to the fourth category.
[24] Plut. Sto. rep. 44, 1.
[25] Ar. Did. fr. 31, quoting from Chrysippus. So Cornutus 1; ὁ οὐρανὸς
περιέχει κύκλῳ τὴν γῆν.
[26] ‘Hicetas Syracosius caelum solem lunam stellas supera denique omnia
stare censet neque praeter terram rem ullam in mundo moveri, quae cum circum
axem se summa celeritate convertat et torqueat, eadem effici omnia, quae si
stante terra caelum moveretur’ Cic. Ac. ii 39, 123, on which see Prof. Reid’s
note.
[27] Plut. plac. phil. iii 13, 3. The question of priority in the statement of this
theory has been much discussed in recent years; and it is contended that Hicetas
and Ecphantus never existed except as characters in dialogues composed by
Heraclides of Pontus, the true discoverer. See H. Steigmüller, Archiv der
Geschichte der Philosophie, Berlin 1892; Otto Voss, de Heraclidis Pontici vita
et scriptis, Rostock, 1896; Tannery, Pseudonymes antiques (Revue des études
grecques, 1897).
[28] ‘pertinebit hoc excussisse, ut sciamus utrum mundus terra stante
circumeat an mundo stante terra vertatur. fuerunt enim qui dicerent nos esse,
quos rerum natura nescientes ferat’ Sen. N. Q. vii 2, 3. Seneca however appears
for himself to reject the doctrine: ‘scimus praeter terram nihil stare, cetera
continua velocitate decurrere’ Ep. 93, 9.
[29] Plut. qu. Plat. viii 1, 2 and 3; Aët. plac. ii 24, 8 and iii 17, 9.
[30] Plut. fac. lun. 6, 3.
[31] Simplic. Arist. phys. p. 64.
[32] ‘si in Scythiam aut in Britanniam sphaeram aliquis tulerit hanc, quam
nuper familiaris noster effecit Posidonius, cuius singulae conversiones idem
efficiunt in sole et in luna et in quinque stellis errantibus, quod efficitur in caelo
singulis diebus et noctibus’ Cic. N. D. ii 34, 88.
[33] Schmekel, p. 465.

[34] ‘in rerum natura elementa sunt quattuor’ Sen. N. Q. iii 12, 3.
[35] See above, § 190.
[36] ‘ex terra aqua, ex aqua oritur aer, ex aere aether; deinde retrorsum
vicissim ex aethere aer, ex aere aqua, ex aqua terra infima. sic naturis his, ex
quibus omnia constant, sursum deorsum ultro citro commeantibus, mundi
partium coniunctio continetur’ Cic. N. D. ii 32, 84.
[37] ‘necesse est ut et imus aether habeat aliquid aeri simile, et summus aer
non sit dissimilis imo aetheri, quia non fit statim in diversum ex diverso
transitus; paulatim ista in confinio vim suam miscent, ut dubitare possis an aer
an hic iam aether sit’ Sen. N. Q. ii 14, 2; cf. iv 10.
[38] Arnim ii 555. But see above, § 194, note 20.
[39] ‘de naturis autem sic [Zeno] sentiebat, ut in quattuor initiis rerum illis
quintam hanc naturam, ex qua superiores sensum et mentem effici rebantur, non
adhiberet: statuebat enim ignem esse ipsam naturam quae quidque gigneret,
etiam mentem atque sensus.’ Cic. Ac. i 11, 39; cf. Fin. iv 5, 12.
[40] ‘sic enim se res habet, ut omnia quae alantur et crescant, contineant in se
vim caloris: sine qua neque ali possent neque crescere.’ N. D. ii 9, 23 and 24;
‘caloris [natura] vim [habet] in se vitalem, per omnem mundum pertinentem’ ib.
[41] ‘hic noster ignis, quem usus vitae requirit, confector est et consumptor
omnium; contra ille corporeus vitalis et salutaris omnia conservat alit auget
sustinet sensuque afficit’ ib. ii 15, 41. Cicero is quoting from Cleanthes (fr. 30
P); the teaching of Zeno was the same (fr. 71 B).
[42] τὸ δὲ [πῦρ καὶ] κατ’ ἐξοχὴν στοιχεῖον λέγεσθαι διὰ τὸ ἐξ αὐτοῦ πρώτου
τὰ λοιπὰ συνίστασθαι κατὰ μεταβολήν Ar. Did. fr. 21; ‘Stoici ignem, ... unum ex
his quattuor elementis, et viventem et sapientem et ipsius mundi fabricatorem ...,
eumque omnino ignem deum esse putaverunt’ Aug. Civ. De. viii 5.
[43] ‘[ignem] natura sursum vocat; in illo igne purissimo nihil est quod
deprimatur’ Sen. N. Q. ii 13, 1 and 2.
[44] οἱ μὲν Στωϊκοὶ τῷ ἀέρι τὸ πρώτως ψυχρὸν ἀποδιδόντες Plut. prim. frig. 9,
1; ‘aer frigidus per se et obscurus’ Sen. N. Q. ii 10.
[45] ‘ipse vero aer, qui natura est maxime frigidus, minime est expers caloris’
Cic. N. D. ii 10, 26; ‘aer nunquam sine igne est. detrahe illi calorem; rigescet,
stabit, durabitur’ Sen. N. Q. iii 10, 4.
[46] ‘quid autem est, quod magis credatur ex se ipso habere intentionem quam
spiritus?’ Sen. N. Q. ii 8. Aristotle held that air was warm (Arnim ii 431).
[47] ‘detrahe [aeri] calorem; transiet in humorem’ Sen. N. Q. iii 10, 4.
[48] ‘est aliquid in aqua vitale’ ib. v 5, 2.
[49] ‘non esse terram sine spiritu palam est ... illo dico vitali et vegeto et
alente omnia. hunc nisi haberet, quomodo tot arbustis spiritum infunderet non
aliunde viventibus, et tot satis?... totum hoc caelum, ... omnes hae stellae ..., hic
tam prope a nobis agens cursum sol ... alimentum ex terra trahunt’ ib. vi 16, 1
and 2.
[50] Philod. de ira p. 77 Gomp.

[51] ‘ex quo concluditur, calidum illud atque igneum in omni fusum esse
natura’ Cic. N. D. ii 10, 28.
[52] cap. xi, p. 38 d.
[53] Schmekel, pp. 463, 4.
[54] ib. p. 464.
[55] Diog. L. vii 145 and 146; Posidonius is his general authority, but the
theory of the solar eclipse he refers to Zeno.
[56] ‘[lunae] tenuissimum lumen facit proximus accessus ad solem, digressus
autem longissimus quisque plenissimum’ Cic. N. D. ii 19, 50.
[57] Pliny, Nat. hist. ii 21.
[58] Such was the calculation of Posidonius; see Mayor’s note on Cic. N. D. ii
36, 92. The sun’s diameter is in fact three times as large as Posidonius thought.
[59] This explanation has so plausible a sound that it may not be superfluous
to remark that it is scientifically valueless.
[60] Cic. N. D. ii 20, 51.
[61] ‘persuadent enim mathematici terram in medio mundo sitam ad universi
caeli complexum quasi puncti instar obtinere, quod κέντρον illi vocant.’ Tusc.
disp. i 17, 40.
[62] Diog. L. vii 144 and 145.
[62a] ‘ego nostris non adsentior; non enim existimo cometen subitaneum
ignem sed inter aeterna opera naturae’ N. Q. vii 21, 1.
[63] ‘omni terrarum ambitu non semel maior’ Sen. N. Q. vi 16, 2.
[64] Ἡράκλειτος καὶ οἱ Στωϊκοὶ τρέφεσθαι τοὺς ἀστέρας ἐκ τῆς ἐπιγείου
ἀναθυμιάσεως Aët. plac. ii 17, 4; ‘[sidera] marinis terrenisque umoribus longo
intervallo extenuatis [aluntur]’ Cic. N. D. ii 16, 43; ‘totum hoc caelum ... halitu
terrarum [sustinetur]’ Sen. N. Q. vi 16, 2.
[65] Ar. Did. fr. 34; for the text and interpretation see Hirzel, pp. 121, 122.
[66] Aët. plac. ii 14, 1 and 2.
[67] ‘solem quoque animantem esse oportet, et quidem reliqua astra, quae
oriantur in ardore caelesti, qui aether vel caelum nominatur’ Cic. N. D. ii 15, 41.
[68] Cic. N. D. iii 14, 37.
[69] ‘ideo enim, sicut et Posidonius et Cleanthes adfirmant, solis meatus a
plaga, quae usta dicitur, non recedit, quia sub ipsa currit Oceanus’ Macrob. Sat. i
23, 2.
[70] ‘hac mundi divinitate perspecta tribuenda est sideribus eadem divinitas,
quae ex mobilissima purissimaque aetheris parte gignuntur; ... totaque sunt
calida atque perlucida, ut ea quoque rectissime animantia esse et sentire atque
intellegere dicantur’ Cic. N. D. ii 15, 39.
[71] Sen. Ben. vii 31, 3.
[72] ‘Cleanthes ... solem dominari et rerum potiri putat’ Cic. Ac. ii 41, 126.

[73] Diog. L. vii 139.
[74] ‘idemque [Zeno] hoc modo: “nullius sensu carentis pars aliqua potest
esse sentiens. mundi autem partes sentientes sunt: non igitur caret sensu
mundus”’ Cic. N. D. ii 8, 22.
[75] ‘quod ratione utitur, id melius est quam id, quod ratione non utitur. nihil
autem mundo melius: ratione igitur mundus utitur’ ib. 8, 21; see also § 83.
[76] Diog. L. vii 143; ‘haec ita fieri omnibus inter se concinentibus mundi
partibus profecto non possent, nisi ea uno divino et continuato spiritu
continerentur’ Cic. N. D. ii 7, 19. This unity of the universe is technically termed
συμπάθεια τῶν ὅλων, ‘consentiens conspirans continuata cognatio rerum’ (Cic.
as above). It was denied by Panaetius (Schmekel, pp. 191, 192).
[77] ‘est ergo in eo virtus: sapiens est igitur et propterea deus’ Cic. N. D. ii 14,
39; ‘quid est autem, cur non existimes in eo divini aliquid existere, qui dei pars
est? totum hoc, quo continemur, et unum est et deus; et socii sumus eius et
membra’ Sen. Ep. 92, 30.
[78] ‘From what has been said it follows that the Stoics admitted no essential
difference between God and the world. Their system was therefore strictly
pantheistic’ Zeller, p. 156.
[79] ὥσπερ δὲ ἡμεῖς ἀπὸ ψυχῆς διοικούμεθα, οὕτω καὶ ὁ κόσμος ψυχὴν ἔχει
τὴν συνέχουσαν αὐτόν, καὶ αὔτη καλεῖται Ζεύς Cornutus 2.
[80] Varro Fr. i 27 b (Aug. Civ. De. vii 6).
[81] ‘nihil quod animi quodque rationis est expers, id generare ex se potest
animantem compotemque rationis’ Cic. N. D. ii 8, 22.
[82] See above, § 101.
[83] Diog. L. vii 139.
[84] ib.
[85] See below, chap. xi.
[86] Sext. math. viii 270 (Arnim ii 727).
[87] ‘inconsultus illis vanusque cursus est, qualis formicis per arbusta
repentibus, quae in summum cacumen, deinde in imum inanes aguntur. his
plerique similem vitam agunt, quorum non immerito quis “inquietam inertiam”
dixerit’ Sen. Dial. ix 12, 3.
[88] ib. vi 7, 2.
[89] ‘quid dicam, quantus amor bestiarum sit in educandis custodiendisque
eis, quae procreaverunt, usque ad eum finem, dum possint se ipsa defendere?’
Cic. N. D. ii 51, 129.
[90] ‘canum vero tam fida custodia, ... quid significat?’ ib. 63, 158.
[91] δῆλον ὅτι τὰ μὲν ἕξει διοικεῖται τὰ δὲ φύσει, τὰ δὲ ἀλόγῳ ψυχῇ Plut. virt.
mor. 12.
[92] τὴν τῆς αἰσθήσεώς τε καὶ ἐξ ἑαυτῆς κινήσεως [αἰτίαν ὀνομάζομεν] ψυχήν
Galen adv. Iul. v (Arnim ii 718).

[93] ‘omnem naturam necesse est ... habere aliquem in se principatum, ut in
homine mentem, in belua quiddam simile mentis’ Cic. N. D. ii 11, 29; ‘ipsum
principale parum subtile, parum exactum. capit ergo visus speciesque rerum
quibus ad impetus evocetur, sed turbidas et confusas’ Sen. Dial. iii 3, 7 and 8.
[94] ‘bestiis [natura] et sensum et motum dedit, et cum quodam appetitu
accessum ad res salutares, a pestiferis recessum’ Cic. N. D. ii 12, 34; and so
again, ib. 47, 122.
[95] ‘irasci quidem non magis sciunt quam ignoscere; muta animalia humanis
adfectibus carent, habent autem similes illis quosdam impetus’ Sen. Dial. iii 3, 5
and 6.
[96] ‘[ira], cum sit inimica rationi, nusquam nascitur, nisi ubi rationi locus est’
ib. 3, 4.
[97] ‘sunt quaedam quae animam habent nec sunt animalia. placet enim satis
et arbustis animam inesse; itaque et vivere illa et mori dicimus’ Sen. Ep. 58, 10;
cf. N. Q. vi 16, 1.
[98] οἱ δὲ Στωϊκοὶ οὐδὲ ψυχὴν ὅλως ὀνομάζουσι τὴν τὰ φυτὰ διοικοῦσαν,
ἀλλὰ φύσιν Galen de Hipp. et Plut. vi. 561 K (Arnim ii 710). Aristotle had used
the term θρεπτικὴ ψυχή in the same sense. So too Cicero: ‘iis quae [gignuntur] e
terra natura nihil tribuit amplius quam ut ea alendo atque augendo tueretur’ N. D.
ii 12, 33.
[99] ib. ii 11, 29.
[100] ‘parvula admodum semina ... in tantum convalescunt ut ingentia saxa
disturbent et monumenta dissolvant. hoc quid est aliud quam intentio spiritus?’
Sen. N. Q. ii 6, 5; and again ‘quid aliud producit fruges et segetem imbecillam ac
virentes exigit umbras ac distendit in ramos quam spiritus intentio et unitas?’ ib.
ii 6, 6. See also Cic. N. D. ii 32, 81.
[101] Arnim ii 713.
[102] ‘quaedam anima carent, ut saxa; itaque erit aliquid animantibus
antiquius, corpus scilicet’ Sen. Ep. 58, 10.
[103] This use of ἕξις must be kept distinct from that which is contrasted with
διάθεσις, as habitus from dispositio: see above, § 184.
[104] ἑκτικὸν μὲν οὖν ἐστι πνεῦμα τὸ συνέχον τοὺς λίθους Galen introd. s.
med. xiv p. 726 K (Arnim ii 716).
[105] ‘[unitas corporum] ad naturam corporis [refert], nulla ope externa, sed
unitate sua cohaerentis’ Sen. N. Q. ii 2, 4.
[106] Alex. de mixt. p. 226, 24-30 Bruns (Arnim ii 1048); Lucian Hermot. 81.
See above, § 186.
[107] This gradation of soul-power is most clearly explained by Varro; ‘idem
Varro tres esse adfirmat animae gradus in omni universaque natura; unum qui
omnes partes corporis, quae vivunt, transit et non habet sensum sed tantum ad
vivendum valetudinem; hanc vim in nostro corpore permanare dicit in ossa
ungues capillos, sicut in mundo arbores sine sensu ... crescunt et modo quodam
suo vivunt; secundum gradum animae, in quo sensus est; hanc vim pervenire in
oculos aures nares os tactum; tertium gradum esse animae summum, quod

vocatur animus, in quo intellegentia praeminet; hoc praeter hominem omnes
carere mortales’ Aug. Civ. De. vii 23.
[108] Diog. L. vii 141.
[109] ‘The heavens shall pass away with a great noise, and the elements shall
be dissolved with fervent heat, and the earth and the works that are therein shall
be burned up.’ 2 Peter iii 10.
[110] See above, § 196.
[111] The theory of the conflagration appears to have been attached to the
Stoic system from without, and the logical contention is obviously weak. For if
the upward movement is in excess, the earth should disappear before the water.
It should also always be remembered that the fire that finally remains is not the
destructive, but a constructive element.
[112] ‘ex quo eventurum nostri putant id, ... ut ad extremum omnis mundus
ignesceret, cum humore consumpto neque terra ali posset neque remearet aer;
cuius ortus, aqua omni exhausta, esse non posset: ita relinqui nihil praeter ignem,
a quo rursum animante ac deo renovatio mundi fieret, atque idem ornatus
oriretur’ Cic. N. D. ii 46, 118. ‘cum tempus advenerit, quo se mundus
renovaturus extinguat, viribus ista se suis caedent et sidera sideribus incurrent et
omni flagrante materia uno igne quicquid nunc ex disposito lucet ardebit. nos
quoque felices animae atque aeterna sortitae, parva ruinae ingentis accessio, in
antiqua elementa vertemur’ Sen. Dial. vi 26, 6.
[113] οὐ ῥητέον ἀποθνῄσκειν τὸν κόσμον Plut. Sto. rep. 39, 2.
[114] ‘[quaeramus] immortalis sit mundus, an inter caduca et ad tempus nata
numerandus’ Sen. Dial. viii 4, 31.
[115] ‘Heraclitus after all his speculations on the conflagration of the
universe’ To himself (Rendall’s transl.), iii 3. Aristotle interpreted Heraclitus in
the same way; thus he paraphrases fr. 26 (B), 66 (D); πάντα τὸ πῦρ ἐπελθὸν
κρινέει καὶ καταλήψεται as follows: Ἡράκλειτός φησιν ἅπαντα γίγνεσθαί ποτε
πῦρ Met. xi 10.
[116] See above, § 193.
[117] Clem. Al. Strom. v 14 (Arnim ii 590) relying on fr. 20 (B), 30 (D). Philo
inc. mund. p. 222, 2 (Arnim ii 620).
[118] Clem. Al. as before, relying on fr. 21 (B), 31a (D); φθαρτὸς μέν [ὁ
κόσμος] ὀ κατὰ τὴν διακόσμησιν, Philo as above.
[119] Ar. Did. fr. 29.
[120] Diog. L. vii 142.
[121] Ζήνωνι καὶ Κλεάνθει καὶ Χρυσίππῳ ἀρέσκει τὴν οὐσίαν μεταβάλλειν
οἷον εἰς σπέρμα τὸ πῦρ Ar. Did. fr. 36.
[122] See above, § 109.
[123] See above, § 115. For a full discussion of the motives of this change see
Schmekel, pp. 304-318.
[124] ‘ita stabilis mundus est atque ita cohaeret ad permanendum, ut nihil ne
excogitari quidem possit aptius’ Cic. N. D. ii 45, 115.

[125] ‘[mundi partium coniunctio] certe perdiuturna [est,] permanens ad
longinquum et immensum paene tempus’ ib. 33, 85.
[126] ‘[Iuppiter,] resoluto mundo et dis in unum confusis paulisper cessante
natura adquiescit sibi, cogitationibus suis traditus’ Sen. Ep. 9, 16. On the relation
of Ζεύς to the ἐκπύρωσις see Alex. de mixt. p. 226, 16 B; Philo inc. mund. c. 14,
15.
[127] ‘[conflagratio] fit, cum deo visum ordiri meliora, vetera finiri’ N. Q. iii
28, 7.
[128] Zeller, p. 166.
[129] Cic. N. D. ii 20, 51: see also Schmekel, p. 241.
[130] ‘veniet iterum, qui nos in lucem reponat dies; quem multi recusarent,
nisi oblitos reduceret’ Sen. Ep. 36, 10. Socrates and Plato will live again, their
friends and fellow citizens will be the same, and they will be again treated as
before; Nemes. nat. hom. p. 277 (Arnim ii 625). This theory is plainly not
reconcileable with Seneca’s hope of better things (see note 127). See also Hicks,
Stoic and Epicurean, pp. 33 sqq.
[131] ‘quisquis formator universi fuit, sive ille deus est potens omnium, sive
incorporalis ratio ingentium operum artifex, sive divinus spiritus per omnia
maxima et minima aequali intentione diffusus, sive fatum et immutabilis
causarum inter se cohaerentium series’ Sen. Dial. xii 8, 3.
[132] This chaos the Stoics identified with the watery stage which preceded
the creation of earth in the history of the elements: see Pearson on Zeno fr. 112,
113.
[133] Seneca’s writings are penetrated with this conception: ‘hoc universum ...
dies aliquis dissipabit et in confusionem veterem tenebrasque demerget’ Dial. xi
1, 2; cf. Ep. 65, 19.
[134] Δία δ’ αὐτὸν καλοῦμεν, ὅτι δι’ αὐτὸν γίνεται καὶ σώζεται τὰ πάντα
Cornutus 2.
[135] ‘illo ergo saeculo, quod aureum perhibent, penes sapientes fuisse
regnum Posidonius iudicat’ Sen. Ep. 90, 5.
[136] Strabo vii 296. See generally Schmekel, pp. 288-290.
[137] Ov. Met. xv 96-142; Schmekel p. 288.
[138] κατ’ ἀρχὰς μὲν οὖν καθ’ αὑτὸν ὄντα [τὸν θεὸν] τρέπειν τὴν πᾶσαν
οὐσίαν δι’ ἀέρος εἰς ὕδωρ Diog. L. vii 136.
[139] This stage, at which the whole universe is water, even though the four
elements have not yet been created, reflects the popular tradition as to Chaos as
in the last section: see Pearson p. 102. For the process of creation as described
by Cleanthes see Pearson p. 252.
[140] See above, § 178.
[141] καὶ ὥσπερ ἐν τῇ γονῇ τὸ σπέρμα περιέχεται, οὔτω καὶ τοῦτον,
σπερματικὸν λόγον ὄντα τοῦ κόσμου ... ἀπογεννᾶν πρῶτον τὰ τέσσαρα στοιχεῖα
Diog. L. vii 136.
[142] εἶτα κατὰ μῖξιν τούτων φυτά τε καὶ ζῷα καὶ τὰ ἄλλα γένη ib. 142.

[143] τὸ μέντοι πρῶτον πῦρ εἶναι καθαπερεί τι σπέρμα, τῶν ἁπάντων ἔχον
τοὺς λόγους Arist. apud Euseb. praep. ev. xv (Arnim i 98).
[144] ταύτῃ δὲ πάντα διοικεῖσθαι τὰ κατὰ τὸν κόσμον ὑπέρευ, καθάπερ ἐν
εὐνομωτάτῃ τινὶ πολιτείᾳ ib.
[145] Galen de trem. 6 vii, p. 616 K (Arnim ii 446).
[146] ἁπτόμενον μέτρα καὶ ἀποσβεννύμενον μέτρα Heracl. Fr. 20 (B), 30 (D).
[147] Galen de musc. i 7 and 8 (Arnim ii 450).
[148] ἐκπύρωσιν μὲν κατὰ τὴν τοῦ θεοῦ δυναστείαν τῶν ἄλλων
ἐπικρατήσαντος, διακόσμησιν δὲ κατὰ τὴν τῶν τεττάρων στοιχείων ἰσονομίαν
ἣν ἀντιδιδόασιν ἀλλήλοις Philo an. sac. ii 242 M (Arnim ii 616).
[149] This concluding section is based upon a note, which was prepared by
Mr A. C. Pearson for an edition of Chrysippus now abandoned, and which has
been kindly placed by him at my disposal.

CHAPTER IX.
THE SUPREME PROBLEMS.

The ‘mauvais pas.’ 217. In the preceding chapter we have discussed the
universe from the scientific standpoint. ‘Such,’ say the
Stoics, ‘we find that the universe is; such and such it was in the beginning,
and such it will be to the end.’ Their conclusions are reached by
observation, classification, and analysis; and yet not entirely by these, for
we must admit that there is also employed that power of scientific
imagination which the ancients call ‘divination.’ Still on the whole the
investigation has been that of the student, and the method that of
speculation or contemplation dissociated from any consideration of the
usefulness of the results attained. In the study we now undertake all this is
changed. Our philosophy proceeds to assert that the universe is good, that it
is directed by wise purpose, and that it claims the reverence and obedience
of mankind. It calls upon its adherents to view the world with moral
approval, and to find in it an ethical standard. Such conclusions cannot be
reached by purely discursive reason; but they are such as are everywhere
sought by practical men. They appeal to a side of human nature different
from that which passes judgment on the conclusions previously reached.
From the first position ‘the universe is’ to the second ‘the universe is good’
the step is slippery. We are on the dizzy heights of philosophical
speculation, where the most experienced climbers find their way they know
not how, and can hardly hold out a hand to help those who are in distress.
The Stoic teachers did not perhaps always follow the same track, and now
and again they stumbled on the way. Reasoning often proved a weak
support, but resolution carried them through somehow to the refuges on
which their eyes were all along set.
Fate, providence, 218. To the problem of the meaning and government
and fortune. of the universe three answers were current in the epoch
with which we are dealing. Either all things take place
by fate; or the world is ruled by a divine providence; or else fortune is
supreme[1]. These three terms are not always mutually exclusive: Virgil

speaks commonly of the ‘fates of the gods[2]’; and ‘fortune’ is frequently
personified, not only in common speech, as when the Romans spoke of the
‘fortune of the city,’ but even by a philosopher like Lucretius, who speaks
of ‘Fortune the pilot[3],’ with a half-humorous abandonment of exactitude.
The Stoics have the merit of not only recognising fully these three powers,
but also of using the terms with relative consistency. By fate then we mean
an abstract necessity, an impersonal tendency, according to which events
flow; by providence a personal will; by fortune the absence of both
tendency and purpose, which results in a constant shifting to and fro, as
when a man stands upon a ball, and is carried this way and that[4]. All
explanations, both of general tendencies and of particular events, must
ultimately resolve themselves into one or other of these three; every
constructive system must necessarily aim at shewing that the three
ultimately coincide, and that philosophy is the guardian and guide of
mankind in the understanding of their relations one to another[5].
Fate. 219. The Stoics hold that ‘all things happen by
fate[6].’ To this conclusion they are brought by the same
reasoning that moved the Chaldaeans. The visible universe is, and has
motion. The heavenly bodies move incessantly in their orbits; there is no
force either within or without them that can turn them aside a hair’s breadth,
or make their pace quicker or slower. No prayers of men, no prerogatives of
gods can make them change[7]. Without cause there is no effect; and each
effect is in its turn a new cause. Thus is constructed an endless chain, in
which all things living and inanimate are alike bound. If a man knew all the
causes that exist, he could trace out all the consequences. What will be, will
be; what will not be, cannot be. This first Stoic interpretation of the
universe is that of Determinism; it reiterates and drives home the principle
that is here our starting-point, ‘the universe is.’ ‘Chrysippus, Posidonius,
and Zeno say that all things take place according to fate; and fate is the
linked cause of things that are, or the system by which the universe is
conducted[8].’ This ‘fate’ is only another name for ‘necessity[9]’; fates
cannot be changed[10].
The ‘fallacies’ of 220. The doctrine of fate appears to contradict directly
determinism. the belief in human free will, and to lead up to the
practical doctrine of laziness (ἀργὸς λόγος, ignava

ratio). Once we allow it to be true that ‘what will be, will be,’ it becomes
useless to make any effort. As at the present time, this argument was
familiar in cases of sickness. One says to the sick person, ‘if it is your fate
to recover, then you will recover whether you call in the physician or not;
and if it is your fate not to recover, then you will not recover in either case.
But it is your fate either to recover or not to recover; therefore it will be
useless to call in the physician.’ To which another will reply: ‘you may as
well argue that if it is your fate to beget a son, you will beget one equally
whether you consort with your wife or not; therefore it will be useless to
consort with your wife[11].’ With such verbal disputes Chrysippus delighted
to deal; his reply to the ‘lazy argument’ was that certain things go together
by fate (iuncta fato, confatalia)[12]. Thus in the above cases it may be
determined by fate that you should both call in a physician and recover,
both consort with your wife and beget a son.
So once more when Nestor says to the watchmen by his ships:

Keep watch, my lads: let sleep seize no man’s eyes,
Lest foes, loud laughing, take us by surprize[13].

Some one then replies, ‘No, they will not, even if we sleep, if it is
predestined that the dock be not seized.’ To such an objection any one can
give the right answer: ‘all these things are equally predestined, and go
together by fate. There is no such thing as a watch kept by sleepers, a
victory won by runaways, or a harvest reaped except after sowing good
clean soil[14].’
Logic of possibility.221. The doctrine of fate also seems to conflict with
some of the commonest forms of speech. For if it is
correct to say ‘Either this will happen, or it will not happen,’ it seems
incorrect to say ‘it may happen’; and still more of the past, since we must
admit of any event that ‘it has happened’ or ‘it has not happened,’ there
seems no room for the statement ‘it might have happened.’ Chrysippus
however maintains that the words ‘may’ and ‘might’ are correctly used, or
(in other words) that we may assert that it is or was ‘possible’ for things to
happen, whether or not they will happen or have happened. For example,

the pearl here is breakable, and may be broken, though fate has ordained
that it never will be broken. Cypselus might not have been tyrant of
Corinth, though the oracle at Delphi declared a thousand years before the
time that he would be[15]. This view had been sharply contested by
Diodorus the Megarian; and the controversy was summed up in the ‘master
argument.’ This is stated as follows: there are three propositions in conflict
with one another in the sense that if any two of them are true, the third is
false. They are these: (i) every past event is necessary; (ii) the impossible
cannot follow on the possible; (iii) there are things possible that neither are
nor will be true. Diodorus accepted the first two; he therefore drew the
conclusion that there is nothing possible except that which is or will be true;
or in other words he denied the existence of any category of ‘things
possible’ distinct from that of facts past or future. Cleanthes and Antipater
accepted the second and third propositions: Chrysippus accepted the first
and third, but denied the second[16]; that is he admitted that the possible
thing (e.g. the breaking of the pearl) might become the impossible because
fate had decided to the contrary. The choice intimates much; it shows that
the Stoics, however strongly they assert the rule of fate or necessity, intend
so to interpret these terms as to reconcile them with the common use of
words, that is, with the inherited belief in divine and human will, breaking
through the chain of unending cause and effect[17].
Definitions of fate. 222. The next step is professedly taken by way of
definition of the word ‘fate’ (εἱμαρμένη, fatum). Exactly
as the stuff of the universe, fire, has been explained to be no mere passive
or destructive element, but one possessed of creative force and reason, so is
fate declared to be no blind or helpless sequence of events, but an active
and wise power which regulates the universe. Fate is in fact but another
name for the Logos or World-reason. On this point all Stoic teachers are in
the main agreed. ‘Fate,’ said Zeno, ‘is a power which stirs matter by the
same laws and in the same way; it may equally well be called providence or
nature[18].’ Chrysippus gives us several alternative definitions: ‘the essence
of fate is a spiritual force, duly ordering the universe[19]’; it is ‘the Logos of
the universe[20],’ or ‘the law of events providentially ordered in the
universe[21]’; or, ‘the law by which things that have been have been, that are
are, that will be will be[22].’ But an important difference appears between
the views of Cleanthes and Chrysippus. They are agreed that all that

happens by providence also happens by fate. But Cleanthes will not allow,
as Chrysippus is prepared to do, that all things that happen by fate happen
providentially[23]. With Cleanthes the conception of fate is wider than that
of providence, just as in Virgil the fates are more powerful than Jove.
Cleanthes, being deeply conscious of the evil existing in the universe,
refused to hold providence responsible for it. Chrysippus on the other hand
identifies fate with the deity[24].
Providence. 223. Providence (πρόνοια, providentia) differs from
fate, if at all, by including an element of personality. It is
a principal dogma of the Stoics that ‘the universe is ruled by providence.’
Cicero indeed assures us that the word ‘providence’ is merely an
abbreviation for ‘the providence of the gods,’ and that the dogma really
asserts that ‘the universe is ruled by the gods with foresight’; and Balbus,
the Stoic advocate, in his treatise, rebukes his opponent Cotta for having
travestied the Stoic doctrine by speaking of providence as ‘a fortune-telling
hag,’ as though she were some kind of goddess governing the world[25]. But
the travesty is at least as instructive as the exposition. If ‘providence’ is on
the one hand interpreted as God’s providence[26], it is on the other hand
equivalent to Nature[27], and again to the Mind of the universe; it is the
Logos, the universal Law, the creative force[28]; not merely an attribute, but
a manifestation and bodily presentment of deity. After the final
conflagration three joining in one will be left, Zeus, providence, and the
creative fire[29]. Lastly, if we consider the process of logical demonstration,
it is from the reality of providence that the Stoics deduce the existence of
the gods; only from the standpoint of dogmatic instruction is the order
reversed.
Beauty of the 224. The work and functions of Providence are open
universe. to our view, for it has an aim and pathway of its own[30].
Its first aim is to create a universe capable of enduring;
next, it makes that universe complete; thirdly, it endows it with every
beauty and excellence[31]. The beauty of the world is a favourite theme
upon which Stoic orators discourse at length; this is, in their view, the best
world that could possibly have been created[32]. This sense of beauty
appears to be derived from two sources, the admiration and awe felt in
contemplating the sky, the sun moon and stars moving in it, lofty

mountains, rushing rivers, and deep caves[33]; and the gentler delight stirred
by the sight of the fertile field, the vine-clad hill, the river-pathway, the
flocks and herds, which all subserve the convenience of man. Thus from
beauty we pass to usefulness, and the Stoics now maintain that the world
has been created and is maintained for the use of man[34]. In strict language,
however, we must say that the universe is made for the use of rational
beings, that is, for gods and men[35], that it is a home or city in which gods
and men alike have a share[36]. From the protection of providence the
animals, according to the Stoic view, are in principle entirely excluded. Yet
it did not escape notice that nature has often provided for their comfort in
particulars, giving them instincts that enable them to maintain life, and an
outward shape conformable to the conditions of their existence[37]. And
Seneca especially found that man was apt to swell himself too greatly, as if
that world were made for him, of which only a small part is adapted for him
to dwell in, and where day and night, summer and winter would continue of
themselves, even if no man observed them[38]. On the other hand zealots
like Chrysippus worked out the detailed application of this theory in a way
that provoked the amusement of their critics[39].
Particular 225. Providence cares for mankind in general, and
providence. therefore for the parts of mankind, the various
continents, nations, and cities. The Stoics are also
inclined to hold that it cares for the individual[40]. The difficulty of this
belief is great. Busy cities are overthrown by the earthquake; the crops of
the careful farmer are blasted by the hailstorm; Socrates is condemned to
death by the Athenians; Pythagoras, Zeno and Antiphon meet with violent
ends. Yet we may not think that in any of these cases the sufferers were
hated or neglected by the gods; it is rather an inevitable necessity that has
worked their ruin. The gods who have great things in their charge, must
sometimes overlook small matters; they must save the community by
sacrificing the individual[41]. The storm may rage in the valley, yet there is
peace on the mountain heights[42]. The philosopher who is absorbed in
contemplating the great whole cannot even see the flaws in its details. ‘If
the gods care for all men,’ says Cicero’s authority, ‘it follows logically that
they care for each single man[43].’ ‘Nothing occurs on earth, nor in the
heaven above, nor in the sea, apart from thee, O God,’ sings Cleanthes[44].

‘It is impossible,’ says Chrysippus, ‘that even the least of particulars can fall
out otherwise than in accordance with the will of God, with his Word, with
law, with justice, and with providence[45].’
Existence of evil. 226. The doctrine of providence, carried to a logical
extreme, leads to the denial of the existence of evil. But
the Stoics did not draw this conclusion; had they done so, their whole
treatment of ethics would have become futile. We have therefore to
scrutinize carefully the language that they employ. If we meet with the
paradox that ‘this is the best of all possible worlds,’ we must remember that
all paradoxes need for their interpretation some sense of humour, and that
the ‘best possible’ is not the same as the ‘best imaginable.’ Somewhere or
other there is, in a sense, a limitation to the sphere of providence. If again in
poetical passages we learn that ‘nothing occurs without God,’ we must not
forget the doctrine that good and evil are alike brought in the end into
harmony with the divine nature. The most exact statement of Stoic doctrine
would seem to be that evil exists indeed, but is not the equal of the good
either in intensity or in duration; it is an incident, not a first principle of the
universe[46]. From this point of view it becomes possible to ‘plead the cause
of the gods,’ to defend providence from the heavy accusations men bring
forward against it[47]. Thus the Stoics set about to prove that, in spite of the
existence of evil, the universe is ruled by the foresight of a beneficent deity.
Logical solutions. 227. The first argument for the defence is logical, and
is pressed by Chrysippus. Good implies its opposite,
evil. ‘There could be no justice, unless there were also injustice; no
courage, unless there were cowardice; no truth, unless there were
falsehood[48].’ Just in the same way we find coarse wit in a comedy, which
is objectionable in itself, and yet somehow contributes to the charm of the
poem as a whole[49]. The second argument is based upon the doctrine of
‘necessary consequence’ (παρακολούθησις). The general design of the
human head required that it should be compacted of small and delicate
bones, accompanying which is the inevitable disadvantage that the head
may easily be injured by blows[50]. War is an evil, but it turns to good by
ridding the world of superfluous population[51].
In many other cases there may be explanations that are beyond our
present knowledge, just as there are many kinds of animals of which we do

not yet know the use[52].
Moral solutions. 228. More important are those arguments which
introduce moral considerations. In the first place the
generous intentions of providence are often thwarted by the perverseness of
wicked men[53], just as many a son uses his inheritance ill, and yet his father
in bequeathing it to him did him a service[54]. The Deity treats good men as
a Roman father his children, giving them a stern training, that they may
grow in virtue[55]; those that he loves, he hardens[56]. Earthquakes and
conflagrations may occur on earth, and perhaps similar catastrophes in the
sky, because the world needs to be purified from the wickedness that
abounds[57]. The punishment of the wicked, for instance by pestilence and
famine, stands for an example to other men, that they may learn to avoid a
like disaster[58]. Often, if the wicked have gone unpunished, the penalty
descends on their children, their grandchildren, and their descendants[59].
Divine power 229. The very multiplicity of these explanations or
limited. excuses betrays the weakness of the case, and the Stoics
are in the last resort driven to admit that the Deity is
neither all-knowing nor all-powerful, and that the sphere of providence is
limited by an all-encircling necessity. Thus Chrysippus explains blunders in
divination by saying that ‘the Deity cannot know everything[60],’ and
though he ascribes to the Deity all power, yet when hard pressed he admits
that he cannot do everything, and that ‘there is a good deal of necessity in
the matter[61].’ In this way he is forced back to the position which the
shrewder Cleanthes had taken from the first[62]. After we have taken away
from fate all that has life or meaning, there remains a residuum, which we
can but vaguely assign to some ‘natural necessity[63].’ This point once
granted, we realize that it includes many of the detailed explanations
previously given. Thus it is by ‘natural necessity’ that good cannot exist
without evil; that the past cannot be altered; that the one must suffer for the
many[64]; that the good cannot always be separated from the bad[65]; that
character grows by the defiance of pain; that the individual is everywhere
exposed to disaster from tyranny, war, pestilence, famine, and earthquake.
God and men allied. 230. The recognition of the limitations of divine
power creates a new tie between gods and men. Men are