The Philosophy of Antoninus
by George Long, M. A.
IT has been said that the Stoic philosophy first showed its real
value when it passed from Greece to Rome. The doctrines of Zeno and
his successors were well suited to the gravity and practical good
sense of the Romans; and even in the Republican period we have an
example of a man, M. Cato Uticensis, who lived the life of a Stoic and
died consistently with the opinions which he professed. He was a man,
says Cicero, who embraced the Stoic philosophy from conviction; not
for the purpose of vain discussion, as most did, but in order to make
his life conformable to the Stoic precepts. In the wretched times from
the death of Augustus to the murder of Domitian, there was nothing but
the Stoic philosophy which could console and support the followers of
the old religion under imperial tyranny and amidst universal
corruption. There were even then noble minds that could dare and
endure, sustained by a good conscience and an elevated idea of the
purposes of man's existence. Such were Paetus Thrasea, Helvidius
Priscus, Cornutus, C. Musonius Rufus,[11] and the poets Persius and
Juvenal, whose energetic language and manly thoughts may be as
instructive to us now as they might have been to their
contemporaries. Persius died under Nero's bloody reign, but Juvenal
had the good fortune to survive the tyrant Domitian and to see the
better times of Nerva, Trajan, and Hadrian.[12] His best precepts are
derived from the Stoic school, and they are enforced in his finest
verses by the unrivalled vigour of the Latin language.
The two best expounders of the later Stoical philosophy were a
Greek slave and a Roman emperor. Epictetus, a Phrygian Greek, was
brought to Rome, we know not how, but he was there the slave and
afterwards the freedman of an unworthy master, Epaphroditus by name,
himself a freeman and a favourite of Nero. Epictetus may have been a
hearer of C. Musonius Rufus, while he was still a slave, but he could
hardly have been a teacher before he was made free. He was one of the
philosophers whom Domitian's order banished from Rome. He retired to
Nicopolis in Epirus, and he may have died there. Like other great
teachers he wrote nothing, and we are indebted to his grateful pupil
Arrian for what we have of Epictetus' discourses. Arrian wrote eight
books of the discourses of Epictetus, of which only four remain and
some fragments. We have also from Arrian's hand the small Enchiridion
or Manual of the chief precepts of Epictetus. There is a valuable
commentary on the Enchiridion by Simplicius, who lived in the time of
the emperor Justinian.[13]
Antoninus in his first book (I. 7), in which he gratefully
commemorates his obligations to his teachers, says that he was made
acquainted by Junius Rusticus with the discourses of Epictetus, whom
he mentions also in other passages (IV. 41; XI. 34, 36). Indeed the
doctrines of Epictetus and Antoninus are the same, and Epictetus is
the best authority for the explanation of the philosophical language
of Antoninus and the exposition of his opinions. But the method of the
two philosophers is entirely different. Epictetus addressed himself to
his hearers in a continuous discourse and in a familiar and simple
manner. Antoninus wrote down his reflections for his own use only, in
short unconnected paragraphs, which are often obscure.
The Stoics made three divisions of philosophy, Physic ([Greek]),
Ethic ([Greek]), and Logic ([Greek]) (VIII. 13). This division, we are
told by Diogenes, was made by Zeno of Citium, the founder of the Stoic
sect, and by Chrysippus; but these philosophers placed the three
divisions in the following order: Logic, Physic, Ethic. It appears,
however, that this division was made before Zeno's time and
acknowledged by Plato, as Cicero remarks (Acad. Post. I. 5). Logic is
not synonymous with our term Logic in the narrower sense of that
word.
Cleanthes, a Stoic, subdivided the three divisions, and made
six: Dialectic and Rhetoric, comprised in Logic; Ethic and Politic;
Physic and Theology. This division was merely for practical use, for
all Philosophy is one. Even among the earliest Stoics Logic or
Dialectic does not occupy the same place as in Plato: it is considered
only as an instrument which is to be used for the other divisions of
Philosophy. An exposition of the earlier Stoic doctrines and of their
modifications would require a volume. My object is to explain only the
opinions of Antoninus, so far as they can be collected from his
book.
According to the subdivision of Cleanthes Physic and Theology go
together, or the study of the nature of Things, and the study of the
nature of the Deity, so far as man can understand the Deity, and of
his government of the universe. This division or subdivision is not
formally adopted by Antoninus, for, as already observed, there is no
method in his book; but it is virtually contained in it.
Cleanthes also connects Ethic and Politic, or the study of the
principles of morals and the study of the constitution of civil
society; and undoubtedly he did well in subdividing Ethic into two
parts, Ethic in the narrower sense and Politic, for though the two are
intimately connected, they are also very distinct, and many questions
can only be properly discussed by carefully observing the
distinction. Antoninus does not treat of Politic. His subject is
Ethic, and Ethic in its practical application to his own conduct in
life as a man and as a governor. His Ethic is founded on his doctrines
about man's nature, the Universal Nature, and the relation of every
man to everything else. It is therefore intimately and inseparably
connected with Physic or the Nature of Things and with Theology or the
Nature of the Deity. He advises us to examine well all the impressions
on our minds ([Greek]) and to form a right judgment of them, to make
just conclusions, and to inquire into the meanings of words, and so
far to apply Dialectic, but he has no attempt at any exposition of
Dialectic, and his philosophy is in substance purely moral and
practical. He says (VIII. 13), "Constantly and, if it be possible, on
the occasion of every impression on the soul, apply to it the
principles of Physic, of Ethic, and of Dialectic": which is only
another way of telling us to examine the impression in every possible
way. In another passage (III. 11) he says, "To the aids which have
been mentioned let this one still be added: make for thyself a
definition or description of the object ([Greek]) which is presented
to thee, so as to see distinctly what kind of a thing it is in its
substance, in its nudity, in its complete entirety, and tell thyself
its proper name, and the names of the things of which it has been
compounded, and into which it will be resolved." Such an examination
implies a use of Dialectic, which Antoninus accordingly employed as a
means towards establishing his Physical, Theological, and Ethical
principles.
There are several expositions of the Physical, Theological, and
Ethical principles, which are contained in the work of Antoninus; and
more expositions than I have read. Ritter ("Geschichte der
Philosophie," IV. 241), after explaining the doctrines of Epictetus,
treats very briefly and insufficiently those of Antoninus. But he
refers to a short essay, in which the work is done better.[14] There is
also an essay on the Philosophical Principles of M. Aurelius Antoninus
by J. M. Schultz, placed at the end of his German translation of
Antoninus (Schleswig, 1799). With the assistance of these two useful
essays and his own diligent study a man may form a sufficient notion
of the principles of Antoninus; but he will find it more difficult to
expound them to others. Besides the want of arrangement in the
original and of connection among the numerous paragraphs, the
corruption of the text, the obscurity of the language and the style,
and sometimes perhaps the confusion in the writer's own
ideas—besides all this there is occasionally an apparent
contradiction in the emperor's thoughts, as if his principles were
sometimes unsettled, as if doubt sometimes clouded his mind. A man who
leads a life of tranquillity and reflection, who is not disturbed at
home and meddles not with the affairs of the world, may keep his mind
at ease and his thoughts in one even course. But such a man has not
been tried. All his Ethical philosophy and his passive virtue might
turn out to be idle words, if he were once exposed to the rude
realities of human existence. Fine thoughts and moral dissertations
from men who have not worked and suffered may be read, but they will
be forgotten. No religion, no Ethical philosophy is worth anything, if
the teacher has not lived the "life of an apostle," and been ready to
die "the death of a martyr." "Not in passivity [the passive affects],
but in activity, lie the evil and the good of the rational social
animal, just as his virtue and his vice lie not in passivity, but in
activity" (IX. 16). The emperor Antoninus was a practical
moralist. From his youth he followed a laborious discipline, and
though his high station placed him above all want or the fear of it,
he lived as frugally and temperately as the poorest
philosopher. Epictetus wanted little, and it seems that he always had
the little that he wanted, and he was content with it, as he had been
with his servile station. But Antoninus after his accession to the
empire sat on an uneasy seat. He had the administration of an empire
which extended from the Euphrates to the Atlantic, from the cold
mountains of Scotland to the hot sands of Africa; and we may imagine,
though we cannot know it by experience, what must be the trials, the
troubles, the anxiety, and the sorrows of him who has the world's
business on his hands with the wish to do the best that he can, and
the certain knowledge that he can do very little of the good which he
wishes.
In the midst of war, pestilence, conspiracy, general corruption,
and with the weight of so unwieldy an empire upon him, we may easily
comprehend that Antoninus often had need of all his fortitude to
support him. The best and the bravest men have moments of doubt and of
weakness, but if they are the best and the bravest, they rise again
from their depression by recurring to first principles, as Antoninus
does. The emperor says that life is smoke, a vapour, and St. James in
his Epistle is of the same mind; that the world is full of envious,
jealous, malignant people, and a man might be well content to get out
of it. He has doubts perhaps sometimes even about that to which he
holds most firmly. There are only a few passages of this kind, but
they are evidence of the struggles which even the noblest of the sons
of men had to maintain against the hard realities of his daily life. A
poor remark it is which I have seen somewhere, and made in a
disparaging way, that the emperor's reflections show that he had need
of consolation and comfort in life, and even to prepare him to meet
his death. True that he did need comfort and support, and we see how
he found it. He constantly recurs to his fundamental principle that
the universe is wisely ordered, that every man is a part of it and
must conform to that order which he cannot change, that whatever the
Deity has done is good, that all mankind are a man's brethren, that he
must love and cherish them and try to make them better, even those who
would do him harm. This is his conclusion (II. 17): "What then is that
which is able to conduct a man? One thing and only one,
Philosophy. But this consists in keeping the divinity within a man
free from violence and unharmed, superior to pains and pleasures,
doing nothing without a purpose nor yet falsely and with hypocrisy,
not feeling the need of another man's doing or not doing anything; and
besides, accepting all that happens and all that is allotted, as
coming from thence, wherever it is, from whence he himself came; and,
finally, waiting for death with a cheerful mind as being nothing else
than a dissolution of the elements of which every living being is
compounded. But if there is no harm to the elements themselves in each
continually changing into another, why should a man have any
apprehension about the change and dissolution of all the elements
[himself]? for it is according to nature; and nothing is evil that is
according to nature."
The Physic of Antoninus is the knowledge of the Nature of the
Universe, of its government, and of the relation of man's nature to
both. He names the universe ([Greek], VI. 1) "the universal
substance," and he adds that "reason" ([Greek]) governs the
universe. He also (VI. 9) uses the terms "universal nature" or "nature
of the universe." He (VI. 25) calls the universe "the one and all,
which we name Cosmus or Order" ([Greek]). If he ever seems to use
these general terms as significant of the All, of all that man can in
any way conceive to exist, he still on other occasions plainly
distinguishes between Matter, Material things ([Greek]), and Cause,
Origin, Reason ([Greek]). This is conformable to Zeno's doctrine that
there are two original principles ([Greek]) of all things, that which
acts ([Greek]) and that which is acted upon ([Greek]). That which is
acted on is the formless matter ([Greek]); that which acts is the
reason ([Greek]), God, who is eternal and operates through all matter,
and produces all things. So Antoninus (V. 32) speaks of the reason
([Greek]) which pervades all substance ([Greek]), and through all time
by fixed periods (revolutions) administers the universe ([Greek]). God
is eternal, and Matter is eternal. It is God who gives form to matter,
but he is not said to have created matter. According to this view,
which is as old as Anaxagoras, God and matter exist independently, but
God governs matter. This doctrine is simply the expression of the fact
of the existence both of matter and of God. The Stoics did not perplex
themselves with the insoluble question of the origin and nature of
matter. Antoninus also assumes a beginning of things, as we now know
them; but his language is sometimes very obscure. I have endeavoured
to explain the meaning of one difficult passage. (VII. 75, and the
note.)
Matter consists of elemental parts ([Greek]) of which all
material objects are made. But nothing is permanent in form. The
nature of the universe, according to Antoninus' expression (IV. 36),
"loves nothing so much as to change the things which are, and to make
new things like them. For everything that exists is in a manner the
seed of that which will be. But thou art thinking only of seeds which
are cast into the earth or into a womb: but this is a very vulgar
notion." All things then are in a constant flux and change: some
things are dissolved into the elements, others come in their places;
and so the "whole universe continues ever young and perfect."
(XII. 23.)
Antoninus has some obscure expressions about what he calls
"seminal principles" ([Greek]). He opposes them to the Epicurean atoms
(VI. 24), and consequently his "seminal principles" are not material
atoms which wander about at hazard, and combine nobody knows how. In
one passage (IV. 21) he speaks of living principles, souls ([Greek])
after the dissolution of their bodies being received into the "seminal
principle of the universe." Schultz thinks that by "seminal principles
Antoninus means the relations of the various elemental principles,
which relations are determined by the Deity and by which alone the
production of organized beings is possible." This may be the meaning,
but if it is, nothing of any value can be derived from it. Antoninus
often uses the word "Nature" ([Greek]), and we must attempt to fix its
meaning. The simple etymological sense of [Greek] is "production," the
birth of what we call Things. The Romans used Natura, which also means
"birth" originally. But neither the Greeks nor the Romans stuck to
this simple meaning, nor do we. Antoninus says (X. 6): "Whether the
universe is [a concourse of] atoms, or Nature [is a system], let this
first be established, that I am a part of the whole which is governed
by nature." Here it might seem as if nature were personified and
viewed as an active, efficient power, as something which, if not
independent of the Deity, acts by a power which is given to it by the
Deity. Such, if I understand the expression right, is the way in which
the word Nature is often used now, though it is plain that many
writers use the word without fixing any exact meaning to it. It is the
same with the expression Laws of Nature, which some writers may use in
an intelligible sense, but others as clearly use in no definite sense
at all. There is no meaning in this word Nature, except that which
Bishop Butler assigns to it, when he says, "The only distinct meaning
of that word Natural is Stated, Fixed or Settled; since what is
natural as much require and presupposes an intelligent agent to render
it so, i.e. to effect it continually or at stated times, as what is
supernatural or miraculous does to effect it at once." This is Plato's
meaning ("De Leg.," IV. 715), when he says that God holds the
beginning and end and middle of all that exists, and proceeds straight
on his course, making his circuit according to nature (that is, by a
fixed order); and he is continually accompanied by justice, who
punishes those who deviate from the divine law, that is, from the
order or course which God observes.
When we look at the motions of the planets, the action of what
we call gravitation, the elemental combination of unorganized bodies
and their resolution, the production of plants and of living bodies,
their generation, growth, and their dissolution, which we call their
death, we observe a regular sequence of phænomena, which within the
limits of experience present and past, so far as we know the past, is
fixed and invariable. But if this is not so, if the order and sequence
of phænomena, as known to us, are subject to change in the course of
an infinite progression—and such change is conceivable—we
have nor discovered, not shall we ever discover, the whole of the
order and sequence of phænomena, in which sequence there may be
involved according to its very nature, that is, according to its fixed
order, some variation of what we now call the Order or Nature of
Things. It is also conceivable that such changes have taken place,
changes in the order of things, as we are compelled by the
imperfection of language to call them, but which are no changes; and
further it is certain that our knowledge of the true sequence of all
actual phænomena, as, for instance, the phænomena of generation,
growth, and dissolution, is and ever must be imperfect.
We do not fare much better when we speak of Causes and Effects
than when we speak of Nature. For the practical purposes of life we
may use the terms cause and effect conveniently, and we may fix a
distinct meaning to them, distinct enough at least to prevent all
misunderstanding. But the case is different when we speak of causes
and effects as of Things. All that we know is phænomena, as the
Greeks called them, or appearances which follow one another in a
regular order, as we conceive it, so that if some one phænomenon
should fail in the series, we conceive that there must either be an
interruption of the series, or that something else will appear after
the phænomenon which has failed to appear, and will occupy the vacant
place; and so the series in its progression may be modified or totally
changed. Cause and effect then mean nothing in the sequence of natural
phænomena beyond what I have said; and the real cause, or the
transcendent cause, as some would call it, of each successive
phænomenon is in that which is the cause of all things which are,
which have been, and which will be forever. Thus the word Creation may
have a real sense if we consider it as the first, if we can conceive a
first, in the present order of natural phænomena; but in the vulgar
sense a creation of all things at a certain time, followed by a
quiescence of the first cause and an abandonment of all sequences of
phænomena to the laws of Nature, or to the other words that people
may use, is absolutely absurd.[15]
Now, though there is great difficulty in understanding all the
passages of Antoninus, in which he speaks of Nature, of the changes of
things, and of the economy of the universe, I am convinced that his
sense of Nature and Natural is the same as that which I have stated;
and as he was a man who knew how to use words in a clear way and with
strict consistency, we ought to assume, even if his meaning in some
passages is doubtful, that his view of Nature was in harmony with his
fixed belief in the all-pervading, ever present, and ever active
energy of God. (II. 4; IV. 40; X. 1; VI. 40; and other
passages. Compare Seneca, "De Benef.," iv. 7. Swedenborg, "Angelic
Wisdom," 349–357.)
There is much in Antoninus that is hard to understand, and it
might be said that he did not fully comprehend all that he wrote;
which would, however, be in no way remarkable, for it happens now that
a man may write what neither he nor anybody can understand. Antoninus
tells us (XII. 10) to look at things and see what they are, resolving
them into the material ([Greek]), the causal ([Greek]), and the
relation ([Greek]), or the purpose, by which he seems to mean
something in the nature of what we call effect, or end. The word Cause
([Greek]) is the difficulty. There is the same word in the Sanscrit
(hátu); and the subtle philosophers of India and of Greece, and the
less subtle philosophers of modern times, have all used this word, or
an equivalent word, in a vague way. Yet the confusion sometimes may be
in the inevitable ambiguity of language rather than in the mind of the
writer, for I cannot think that some of the wisest of men did not know
what they intended to say. When Antoninus says (IV. 36) that
"everything that exists is in a manner the seed of that which will
be," he might be supposed to say what some of the Indian philosophers
have said, and thus a profound truth might be converted into a gross
absurdity. But he says, "in a manner," and in a manner he said true;
and in another manner, if you mistake his meaning, he said false. When
Plato said "Nothing ever is, but is always becoming" ([Greek]), he
delivered a text, out of which we may derive something; for he
destroys by it not all practical, but all speculative notions of cause
and effect. The whole series of things, as they appear to us, must be
contemplated in time, that is, in succession, and we conceive or
suppose intervals between one state of things and another state of
things, so that there is priority and sequence, and interval, and
Being, and a ceasing to Be, and beginning and ending. But there is
nothing of the kind in the Nature of Things. It is an everlasting
continuity. (IV. 45; VII. 75.) When Antoninus speaks of generation
(X. 26), he speaks of one cause ([Greek]) acting, and then another
cause taking up the work, which the former left in a certain state,
and so on; and we might conceive that he had some notion like what has
been called "the self-evolving power of nature"; a fine phrase indeed,
the full import of which I believe that the writer of it did not see,
and thus he laid himself open to the imputation of being a follower of
one of the Hindu sects, which makes all things come by evolution out
of nature or matter, or out of something which takes the place of
Deity, but is not Deity. I would have all men think as they please, or
as they can, and I only claim the same freedom which I give. When a
man writes anything, we may fairly try to find out all that his words
must mean, even if the result is that they mean what he did not mean;
and if we find this contradiction, it is not our fault, but his
misfortune. Now Antoninus is perhaps somewhat in this condition in
what he says (X. 26), though he speaks at the end of the paragraph of
the power which acts, unseen by the eyes, but still no less
clearly. But whether in this passage (X. 26) he means that the power
is conceived to be in the different successive causes ([Greek]), or in
something else, nobody can tell. From other passages, however, I do
collect that his notion of the phænomena of the universe is what I
have stated. The Deity works unseen, if we may use such language, and
perhaps I may, as Job did, or he who wrote the book of Job. "In him we
live and move and are," said St. Paul to the Athenians, and to show
his bearers that this was no new doctrine, he quoted the Greek
poets. One of these poets was the Stoic Cleanthes, whose noble hymn to
Zeus or God is an elevated expression of devotion and philosophy. It
deprives Nature of her power and puts her under the immediate
government of the Deity.
Thee all this heaven, which whirls around the earth,
Obeys and willing follows where thou leadest.—
Without thee, God, nothing is done on earth,
Nor in the aethereal realms, nor in the sea,
Save what the wicked through their folly do.
Antoninus' conviction of the existence of a divine power and
government was founded on his perception of the order of the
universe. Like Socrates (Xen., "Mem.," IV. 3, 13, etc.), he says that
though we cannot see the forms of divine powers we know that they
exist because we see their works.
"To those who ask, Where hast thou seen the gods or how dost
thou comprehend that they exist and so worshipest them? I answer, in
the first place, that they may be seen even with the eyes; in the
second place, neither have I seen my own soul, and yet I honour
it. Thus then with respect to the gods, from what I constantly
experience of their power, from this I comprehend that they exist and
I venerate them." (XII. 28, and the note. Comp. Aristotle, "de Mundo,"
c. 6; Xen., "Mem.," I. 4, 9; Cicero, "Tuscul.," I. 28, 29; St. Paul's
Epistle to the Romans, I. 19, 20; and Montaigne's "Apology for Raimond
de Sebonde," II. C. 12.) This is a very old argument which has always
had great weight with most people, and has appeared sufficient. It
does not acquire the least additional strength by being developed in a
learned treatise. It is as intelligible in its simple enunciation as
it can be made. If it is rejected, there is no arguing with him who
rejects it: and if it is worked out into innumerable particulars, the
value of the evidence runs the risk of being buried under a mass of
words.
Man being conscious that he is a spiritual power or intellectual
power, or that he has such a power, in whatever way he conceives that
he has it—for I wish simply to state a fact—from this
power which he has in himself, he is led, as Antoninus says, to
believe that there is a greater power, which, as the old Stoics tells
us, pervades the whole universe as the intellect ([Greek]) pervades
man. (Compare Epictetus' "Discourses," I. 14; and Voltaire à
Made. Necker, vol. LXVII. p. 278, ed. Lequien.)
God exists then, but what do we know of his nature? Antoninus
says that the soul of man is an efflux from the divinity. We have
bodies like animals, but we have reason, intelligence as the
gods. Animals have life ([Greek]), and what we call instincts or
natural principles of action: but the rational animal man alone has a
rational, intelligent soul ([Greek]). Antoninus insists on this
continually: God is in man,[16]Time and so we must constantly attend to the divinity
within us, for it is only in this way that we can have any knowledge
of the nature of God. The human soul is in a sense a portion of the
divinity; and the soul alone has any communication with the Deity,
for, as he says (XII. 2): "With his intellectual part alone God
touches the intelligence only which has flowed and been derived from
himself into these bodies." In fact he says that which is hidden
within a man is life, that is the man himself. All the rest is
vesture, covering, organs, instrument, which the living man, the real
man, uses for the purpose of his present existence. The air is
universally diffused for him who is able to respire, and so for him
who is willing to partake of it the intelligent power, which holds
within it all things, is diffused as wide and free as the
air. (VIII. 54.) It is by living a divine life that man approaches to
a knowledge of the divinity. It is by following the divinity within,
[Greek] or [Greek] as Antoninus calls it, that man comes nearest to
the Deity, the supreme good, for man can never attain to perfect
agreement with his internal guide ([Greek]). "Live with the gods. And
he does live with the gods who constantly shows to them that his own
soul is satisfied with that which is assigned to him, and that it does
all the daemon ([Greek]) wishes, which Zeus hath given to every man
for his guardian and guide, a portion of himself. And this daemon is
every man's understanding and reason." (V. 27).
There is in man, that is in the reason, the intelligence, a
superior faculty which if it is exercised rules all the rest. This is
the ruling faculty ([Greek]) which Cicero ("De Natura Deorum," II. II)
renders by the Latin word Principatus, "to which nothing can or ought
to be superior." Antoninus often uses this term, and others which are
equivalent. He names it (VII. 64) "the governing intelligence." The
governing faculty is the master of the soul. (V. 26.) A man must
reverence only his ruling faculty and the divinity within him. As we
must reverence that which is supreme in the universe, so we must
reverence that which is supreme in ourselves, and this is that which
is of like kind with that which is supreme in the universe. (V. 21.)
So, as Plotinus says, the soul of man can only know the divine, so far
as it knows itself. In one passage (XI. 19) Antoninus speaks of a
man's condemnation of himself, when the diviner part within him has
been overpowered and yields to the less honourable and to the
perishable part, the body, and its gross pleasures. In a word, the
views of Antoninus on this matter, however his expressions may vary,
are exactly what Bishop Butler expresses when he speaks of "the
natural supremacy of reflection or conscience," of the faculty "which
surveys, approves or disapproves the several affections of our mind
and actions of our lives."
Much matter might be collected from Antoninus on the notion of
the universe being one animated Being. But all that he says amounts to
no more, as Schultz remarks, than this: the soul of man is most
intimately united to his body, and together they make one animal,
which we call man; so the Deity is most intimately united to the world
or the material universe, and together they form one whole. But
Antoninus did not view God and the material universe as the same, any
more than he viewed the body the soul of man as one. Antoninus has no
speculations on the absolute nature of the Deity. It was not his
fashion to waste his time on what man cannot understand.[17] He was satisfied that God exists, that he governs all
things, that man can only have an imperfect knowledge of his nature,
and he must attain this imperfect knowledge by reverencing the
divinity which is within him, and keeping it pure. 22
From all that has been said it follows that the universe is
administered by the Providence of God ([Greek]), and that all things
are wisely ordered. There are passages in which Antoninus expresses
doubts, or states different possible theories of the constitution and
government of the universe, but he always recurs to his fundamental
principle, that if we admit the existence of a Deity, we must also
admit that he orders all things wisely and well. (IV. 27; VI. 1;
IX. 28; XII. 5, and many other passages.) Epictetus says (I. 6) that
we can discern the providence which rules the world, if we possess two
things, the power of seeing all that happens with respect to each
thing, and a grateful disposition.
But if all things are wisely ordered, how is the world so full
of what we call evil, physical and moral? If instead of saying that
there is evil in the world, we use the expression which I have used,
"what we call evil," we have partly anticipated the emperor's
answer. We see and feel and know imperfectly very few things in the
few years that we live, and all the knowledge and all the experience
of all the human race is positive ignorance of the whole, which is
infinite. Now as our reason teaches us that everything is in some way
related to and connected with every other thing, all notion of evil as
being in the universe of things is a contradiction, for if the whole
comes from and is governed by an intelligent being, it is impossible
to conceive anything in it which tends to the evil or destruction of
the whole. (VIII. 55; X. 6.) Everything is in constant mutation, and
yet the whole subsists. We might imagine the solar system resolved
into its elemental parts, and yet the whole would still subsist "ever
young and perfect."
All things, all forms, are dissolved and new forms appear. All
living things undergo the change which we call death. If we call death
an evil, then all change is an evil. Living beings also suffer pain,
and man suffers most of all, for he suffers both in and by his body,
and by his intelligent part. Men suffer also from one another, and
perhaps the largest part of human suffering comes to man from those
whom he calls his brothers. Antoninus says (VIII. 55), "Generally,
wickedness does no harm at all to the universe; and particularly, the
wickedness [of one man] does no harm to another. It is only harmful to
him who has it in his power to be released from it as soon as he shall
choose." The first part of this is perfectly consistent with the
doctrine that the whole can sustain no evil or harm. The second part
must be explained by the Stoic principle that there is no evil in
anything which is not in our power. What wrong we suffer from another
is his evil, not ours. But this is an admission that there is evil in
a sort, for he who does wrong does evil, and if others can endure the
wrong, still there is evil in the wrong-doer. Antoninus (XI. 18) gives
many excellent precepts with respect to wrongs and injuries, and his
precepts are practical. He teaches us to bear what we cannot avoid,
and his lessons may be just as useful to him who denies the being and
the government of God as to him who believes in both. There is no
direct answer in Antoninus to the objections which may be made to the
existence and providence of God because of the moral disorder and
suffering which are in the world, except this answer which he makes in
reply to the supposition that even the best men may be extinguished by
death. He says if it is so, we may be sure that if it ought to have
been otherwise, the gods would have ordered it otherwise. (XII. 5.)
His conviction of the wisdom which we may observe in the government of
the world is too strong to be disturbed by any apparent irregularities
in the order of things. That these disorders exist is a fact, and
those who would conclude from them against the being and government of
God conclude too hastily. We all admit that there is an order in the
material world, a Nature, in the sense in which that word has been
explained, a constitution, what we call a system, a relation of parts
to one another and a fitness of the whole for something. So in the
constitution of plants and of animals there is an order, a fitness for
some end. Sometimes the order, as we conceive it, is interrupted and
the end, as we conceive it, is not attained. The seed, the plant, or
the animal sometimes perishes before it has passed through all its
changes and done all its uses. It is according to Nature, that is, a
fixed order, for some to perish early and for others to do all their
uses and leave successors to take their place. So man has a corporeal
and intellectual and moral constitution fit for certain uses, and on
the whole man performs these uses, dies, and leaves other men in his
place. So society exists, and a social state is manifestly the Natural
State of man, the state for which his Nature fits him; and society
amidst innumerable irregularities and disorders still subsists; and
perhaps we may say that the history of the past and our present
knowledge give us a reasonable hope that its disorders will diminish,
and that order, its governing principle, may be more firmly
established. As order then, a fixed order, we may say, subject to
deviations real or apparent, must be admitted to exist in the whole
Nature of things, that which we call disorder or evil as it seems to
us, does not in any way alter the fact of the general constitution of
things having a Nature or fixed order. Nobody will conclude from the
existence of disorder that order is not the rule, for the existence of
order both physical and moral is proved by daily experience and all
past experience. We cannot conceive how the order of the universe is
maintained: we cannot even conceive how our own life from day to day
is continued, nor how we perform the simplest movements of the body,
nor how we grow and think and act, though we know many of the
conditions which are necessary for all these functions. Knowing
nothing then of the unseen power which acts in ourselves except by
what is done, we know nothing of the power which acts through what we
call all time and all space; but seeing that there is a Nature or
fixed order in all things known to us, it is conformable to the nature
of our minds to believe that this universal Nature has a cause which
operates continually, and that we are totally unable to speculate on
the reason of any of those disorders or evils which we perceive. This
I believe is the answer which may be collected from all that Antoninus
has said.[18]
The origin of evil is an old question. Achilles tells Priam
(Iliad, 24, 527) that Zeus has two casks, one filled with good things,
and the other with bad, and that he gives to men out of each according
to his pleasure; and so we must be content, for we cannot alter the
will of Zeus. One of the Greek commentators asks how must we reconcile
this doctrine with what we find in the first book of the "Odyssey,"
where the king of the gods says, Men say that evil comes to them from
us, but they bring it on themselves through their own folly. The
answer is plain enough even to the Greek commentator. The poets make
both Achilles and Zeus speak appropriately to their several
characters. Indeed Zeus says plainly that men do attribute their
sufferings to the gods, but they do it falsely, for they are the cause
of their own sorrows.
Epictetus in his Enchiridion (C. 27) makes short work of the
question of evil. He says, "As a mark is not set up for the purpose of
missing it, so neither does the nature of evil exist in the Universe."
This will appear obscure enough to those who are not acquainted with
Epictetus, but he always knows what he is talking about. We do not set
up a mark in order to miss it, though we may miss it. God, whose
existence Epictetus assumes, has not ordered all things so that his
purpose shall fail. Whatever there may be of what we call evil, the
Nature of evil, as he expresses it, does not exist; that is, evil is
not a part of the constitution or nature of Things. If there were a
principle of evil ([Greek]) in the constitution of things, evil would
no longer be evil, as Simplicius argues, but evil would be
good. Simplicius (c. 34, [27]) has a long and curious discourse on
this text of Epictetus, and it is amusing and instructive.
One passage more will conclude this matter. It contains all that
the emperor could say (II. 11): "To go from among men, if there are
gods, is not a thing to be afraid of, for the gods will not involve
thee in evil; but if indeed they do not exist, or if they have no
concern about human affairs, what is it to me to live in a universe
devoid of gods or devoid of providence? But in truth they do exist,
and they do care for human things, and they have put all the means in
man's power to enable him not to fall into real evils. And as to the
rest, if there was anything evil, they would have provided for this
also, that it should be altogether in a man's power not to fall into
it. But that which does not make a man worse, how can it make a man's
life worse? But neither through ignorance nor having the knowledge,
but not the power to guard against or correct these things, is it
possible that the nature of the Universe has overlooked them; nor is
it possible that it has made so great a mistake, either through want
of power or want of skill, that good and evil should happen
indiscriminately to the good and the bad. But death certainly and
life, honour and dishonour, pain and pleasure, all these things
equally happen to good and bad men, being things which make us neither
better nor worse. Therefore they are neither good nor evil."
The Ethical part of Antoninus' Philosophy follows from his
general principles. The end of all his philosophy is to live
conformably to Nature, both a man's own nature and the nature of the
Universe. Bishop Butler has explained what the Greek philosophers
meant when they spoke of living according to Nature, and he says that
when it is explained, as he has explained it and as they understood
it, it is "a manner of speaking not loose and undeterminate, but clear
and distinct, strictly just and true." To live according to Nature is
to live according to a man's whole nature, not according to a part of
it, and to reverence the divinity within him as the governor of all
his actions. "To the rational animal the same act is according to
nature and according to reason."[19] (VII. 11.) That which is done contrary to reason is also
an act contrary to nature, to the whole nature, though it is certainly
conformable to some part of man's nature, or it could not be done. Man
is made for action, not for idleness or pleasure. As plants and
animals do the uses of their nature, so man must do
his. (V. 1.)
Man must also live conformably to the universal nature,
conformably to the nature of all things of which he is one; and as a
citizen of a political community he must direct his life and actions
with reference to those among whom, and for whom, among other
purposes, he lives.[20] A man must not retire into solitude and cut himself off
from his fellow men. He must be ever active to do his part in the
great whole. All men are his kin, not only in blood, but still more by
participating in the same intelligence and by being a portion of the
same divinity. A man cannot really be injured by his brethren, for no
act of theirs can make him bad, and he must not be angry with them nor
hate them: "For we are made for cooperation, like feet, like hands,
like eyelids, like the rows of the upper and lower teeth. To act
against one another then is contrary to nature; and it is acting
against one another to be vexed and to turn away." (II. 1.)
Further he says: "Take pleasure in one thing and rest in it, in
passing from one social act to another social act, thinking of God."
(VI. 7.) Again: "Love mankind. Follow God." (VII. 31.) It is the
characteristic of the rational soul for a man to love his
neighbour. (XI. 1.) Antoninus teaches in various passages the
forgiveness of injuries, and we know that he also practised what he
taught. Bishop Butler remarks that "this divine precept to forgive
injuries and to love our enemies, though to be met with in Gentile
moralists, yet is in a peculiar sense a precept of Christianity, as
our Saviour has insisted more upon it than on any other single
virtue." The practice of this precept is the most difficult of all
virtues. Antoninus often enforces it and gives us aid towards
following it. When we are injured, we feel anger and resentment, and
the feeling is natural, just, and useful for the conservation of
society. It is useful that wrong-doers should feel the natural
consequences of their actions, among which is the disapprobation of
society and the resentment of him who is wronged. But revenge, in the
proper sense of that word, must not be practised. "The best way of
avenging thyself," says the emperor, "is not to become like the
wrong-doer." It is plain by this that he does not mean that we should
in any case practise revenge; but he says to those who talk of
revenging wrongs, Be not like him who has done the wrong. Socrates in
the Crito (C. 10) says the same in other words, and St. Paul (Ep. to
the Romans, XII. 17). "When a man has done thee any wrong, immediately
consider with what opinion about good or evil he has done wrong. For
when thou hast seen this, thou wilt pity him and wilt neither wonder
nor be angry." (VII. 26.) Antoninus would not deny that wrong
naturally produces the feeling of anger and resentment, for this is
implied in the recommendation to reflect on the nature of the man's
mind who has done the wrong, and then you will have pity instead of
resentment: and so it comes to the same as St. Paul's advice to be
angry and sin not; which, as Butler well explains it, is not a
recommendation to be angry, which nobody needs, for anger is a natural
passion, but it is a warning against allowing anger to lead us into
sin. In short the emperor's doctrine about wrongful acts is this:
wrong-doers do not know what good and bad are: they offend out of
ignorance, and in the sense of the Stoics this is true. Though this
kind of ignorance will never be admitted as a legal excuse, and ought
not to be admitted as a full excuse in any way by society, there may
be grievous injuries, such as it is in a man's power to forgive
without harm to society; and if he forgives because he sees that his
enemies know not what they do, he is acting in the spirit of the
sublime prayer, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they
do."
The emperor's moral philosophy was not a feeble, narrow system,
which teaches a man to look directly to his own happiness, though a
man's happiness or tranquillity is indirectly promoted by living as he
ought to do. A man must live conformably to the universal nature,
which means, as the emperor explains it in many passages, that a man's
actions must be conformable to his true relations to all other human
beings, both as a citizen of a political community and as a member of
the whole human family. This implies, and he often expresses it in the
most forcible language, that a man's words and actions, so far as they
affect others, must be measured by a fixed rule, which is their
consistency with the conservation and the interests of the particular
society of which he is a member, and of the whole human race. To live
conformably to such a rule, a man must use his rational faculties in
order to discern clearly the consequences and full effect of all his
actions and of the actions of others: he must not live a life of
contemplation and reflection only, though he must often retire within
himself to calm and purify his soul by thought, but he must mingle in
the work of man and be a fellow labourer for the general good.
A man should have an object or purpose in life, that he may
direct all his energies to it; of course a good object. (II. 7.) He
who has not one object or purpose of life, cannot be one and the same
all through his life. (XI. 21.) Bacon has a remark to the same effect,
on the best means of "reducing of the mind unto virtue and good
estate; which is, the electing and propounding unto a man's self good
and virtuous ends of his life, such as may be in a reasonable sort
within his compass to attain." He is a happy man who has been wise
enough to do this when he was young and has had the opportunities; but
the emperor, seeing well that a man cannot always be so wise in his
youth, encourages himself to do it when he can, and not to let life
slip away before he has begun. He who can propose to himself good and
virtuous ends of life, and be true to them, cannot fail to live
conformably to his own interest and the universal interest, for in the
nature of things they are one. If a thing is not good for the hive, it
is not good for the bee. (VI. 54.)
One passage may end this matter. "If the gods have determined
about me and about the things which must happen to me, they have
determined well, for it is not easy even to imagine a deity without
forethought; and as to doing me harm, why should they have any desire
towards that? For what advantage would result to them from this or to
the whole, which is the special object of their providence? But if
they have not determined about me individually, they have certainly
determined about the whole at least; and the things which happen by
way of sequence in this general arrangement I ought to accept with
pleasure and to be content with them. But if they determine about
nothing—which it is wicked to believe, or if we do believe it,
let us neither sacrifice nor pray nor swear by them nor do anything
else which we do as if the gods were present and lived with
us—but if however the gods determine about none of the things
which concern us, I am able to determine about myself, and I can
inquire about that which is useful; and that is useful to every man
which is conformable to his own constitution ([Greek]) and nature. But
my nature is rational and social; and my city and country, so far as I
am Antoninus, is Rome; but so far as I am a man, it is the world. The
things then which are useful to these cities are alone useful to me."
(VI. 44.)
It would be tedious, and it is not necessary, to state the
emperor's opinions on all the ways in which a man may profitably use
his understanding towards perfecting himself in practical virtue. The
passages to this purpose are in all parts of his book, but as they are
in no order or connection, a man must use the book a long time before
he will find out all that is in it. A few words may be added here. If
we analyze all other things, we find how insufficient they are for
human life, and how truly worthless many of them are. Virtue alone is
indivisible, one, and perfectly satisfying. The notion of Virtue
cannot be considered vague or unsettled, because a man may find it
difficult to explain the notion fully to himself or to expound it to
others in such a way as to prevent cavilling. Virtue is a whole, and
no more consists of parts than man's intelligence does, and yet we
speak of various intellectual faculties as a convenient way of
expressing the various powers which man's intellect shows by his
works. In the same way we may speak of various virtues or parts of
virtue, in a practical sense, for the purpose of showing what
particular virtues we ought to practise in order to the exercise of
the whole of virtue, that is, as much as man's nature is capable
of.
The prime principle in man's constitution is social. The next in
orders is not to yield to the persuasions of the body, when they are
not conformable to the rational principle, which must govern. The
third is freedom from error and from deception. "Let then the ruling
principle holding fast to these things go straight on, and it has what
is its own." (VII. 55.) The emperor selects justice as the virtue
which is the basis of all the rest (X. 11), and this had been said
long before his time.
It is true that all people have some notion of what is meant by
justice as a disposition of the mind, and some notion about acting in
conformity to this disposition; but experience shows that men's
notions about justice are as confused as their actions are
inconsistent with the true notion of justice. The emperor's notion of
justice is clear enough, but not practical enough for all
mankind. "Let there be freedom from perturbations with respect to the
things which come from the external cause; and let there be justice in
the things done by virtue of the internal cause, that is, let there be
movement and action terminating in this, in social acts, for this is
according to thy nature." (IX. 31.) In another place (IX. 1) he says
that "he who acts unjustly acts impiously," which follows of course
from all that he says in various places. He insists on the practice of
truth as a virtue and as a means to virtue, which no doubt it is: for
lying even in indifferent things weakens the understanding; and lying
maliciously is as great a moral offence as a man can be guilty of,
viewed both as showing an habitual disposition, and viewed with
respect to consequences. He couples the notion of justice with
action. A man must not pride himself on having some fine notion of
justice in his head, but he must exhibit his justice in act, like
St. James' notion of faith. But this is enough.
The Stoics, and Antoninus among them, call some things beautiful
([Greek]) and some ugly ([Greek]), and as they are beautiful so they
are good, and as they are ugly so they are evil or bad. (II. 1.) All
these things good and evil are in our power absolutely, some of the
stricter Stoics would say; in a manner only, as those who would not
depart altogether from common sense would say; practically they are to
a great degree in the power of some persons and in some circumstances,
but in a small degree only in other persons and in other
circumstances. The Stoics maintain man's free will as to the things
which are in his power; for as to the things which are out of his
power, free will terminating in action is of course excluded by the
very terms of the expression. I hardly know if we can discover exactly
Antoninus' notion of the free will of man, nor is the question worth
the inquiry. What he does mean and does say is intelligible. All the
things which are not in our power ([Greek]) are indifferent: they are
neither good nor bad, morally. Such are life, health, wealth, power,
disease, poverty, and death. Life and death are all men's
portion. Health, wealth, power, disease, and poverty happen to men
indifferently to the good and to the bad; to those who live according
to nature and to those who do not. "Life," says the emperor, "is a
warfare and a stranger's sojourn, and after-fame is oblivion."
(II. 17.) After speaking of those men who have disturbed the world and
then died, and of the death of philosophers such as Heraclitus and
Democritus, who was destroyed by lice, and of Socrates, whom other
lice (his enemies) destroyed, he says: "What means all this? Thou hast
embarked, thou hast made the voyage, thou art come to shore; get
out. If indeed to another life, there is no want of gods, not even
there. But if to a state without sensation, thou wilt cease to be held
by pains and pleasures, and to be a slave to the vessel which is as
much inferior as that which serves it is superior; for the one is
intelligence and deity; the other is earth and corruption." (III. 3.)
It is not death that a man should fear, but he should fear never
beginning to live according to nature. (XII. 1.) Every man should live
in such a way as to discharge his duty, and to trouble himself about
nothing else. He should live such a life that he shall always be ready
for death, and shall depart content when the summons comes. For what
is death? "A cessation of the impressions through the senses, and of
the pulling of the strings which move the appetites, and of the
discursive movements of the thoughts, and of the service to the
flesh." (VI. 28.) Death is such as generation is, a mystery of
nature. (IV. 5.) In another passage, the exact meaning of which is
perhaps doubtful (IX. 3), he speaks of the child which leaves the
womb, and so he says the soul at death leaves its envelope. As the
child is born or comes into life by leaving the womb, so the soul may
on leaving the body pass into another existence which is perfect. I am
not sure if this is the emperor's meaning. Butler compares it with a
passage in Strabo
Antoninus' opinion of a future life is nowhere clearly
expressed. His doctrine of the nature of the soul of necessity implies
that it does not perish absolutely, for a portion of the divinity
cannot perish. The opinion is at least as old as the time of
Epicharmus and Euripides; what comes from earth goes back to earth,
and what comes from heaven, the divinity, returns to him who gave
it. But I find nothing clear in Antoninus as to the notion of the man
existing after death so as to be conscious of his sameness with that
soul which occupied his vessel of clay. He seems to be perplexed on
this matter, and finally to have rested in this, that God or the gods
will do whatever is best and consistent with the university of
things.
Nor I think does he speak conclusively on another Stoic
doctrine, which some Stoics practised, the anticipating the regular
course of nature by a man's own act. The reader will find some
passages in which this is touched on, and he may make of them what he
can. But there are passages in which the emperor encourages himself to
wait for the end patiently and with tranquillity; and certainly it is
consistent with all his best teaching that a man should bear all that
falls to his lot and do useful acts as long as he lives. He should not
therefore abridge the time of his usefulness by his own act. Whether
he contemplates any possible cases in which a man should die by his
own hand, I cannot tell, and the matter is not worth a curious
inquiry, for I believe it would not lead to any certain result as to
his opinion on this point. I do not think that Antoninus, who never
mentions Seneca, though he must have known all about him, would have
agreed with Seneca when he gives as a reason for suicide, that the
eternal law, whatever he means, has made nothing better for us than
this, that it has given us only one way of entering into life and many
ways of going out of it. The ways of going out indeed are many, and
that is a good reason for a man taking care of himself.
Happiness was not the direct object of a Stoic's life. There is
no rule of life contained in the precept that a man should pursue his
own happiness. Many men think that they are seeking happiness when
they are only seeking the gratification of some particular passion,
the strongest that they have. The end of a man is, as already
explained, to live conformably to nature, and he will thus obtain
happiness, tranquillity of mind, and contentment. (III. 12; VIII. I,
and other places.) As a means of living conformably to nature he must
study the four chief virtues, each of which has its proper sphere:
wisdom, or the knowledge of good and evil; justice, or the giving to
every man his due; fortitude, or the enduring of labour and pain; and
temperance, which is moderation in all things. By thus living
conformably to nature the Stoic obtained all that he wished or
expected. His reward was in his virtuous life, and he was satisfied
with that. Some Greek poet long ago wrote:
For virtue only of all human things
Takes her reward not from the hands of others.
Virtue herself rewards the toils of virtue.
Some of the Stoics indeed expressed themselves in very arrogant,
absurd terms about the wise man's self-sufficiency: they elevated him
to the rank of a deity. But these were only talkers and lecturers,
such as those in all ages who utter fine words, know little of human
affairs, and care only for notoriety. Epictetus and Antoninus both by
precept and example laboured to improve themselves and others; and if
we discover imperfections in their teaching, we must still honour
these great men who attempted to show that there is in man's nature
and in the constitution of things sufficient reason for living a
virtuous life. It is difficult enough to live as we ought to live,
difficult even for any man to live in such a way as to satisfy
himself, if he exercises only in a moderate degree the power of
reflecting upon and reviewing his own conduct; and if all men cannot
be brought to the same opinions in morals and religion, it is at least
worth while to give them good reasons for as much as they can be
persuaded to accept.