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XHi^ DOCTRINES HEATHEN PHILOSOPHY

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REVELATION.

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THE DOCTRINES

Of

HEATHEN PHILOSOPHY,

compared

WITH THOSE OF

T

REVELATION

BY JOSEPH PRIESTLEY, l. l. d. f. r. s.

2i

PRINTED Ur JOHN BINNS.

1804.

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E D I C A T I O N.

TO THE

REVEREND JOSEPH BERINGTON,

a Catholic Priest i?i England,

AND TO THE

RIGHT REVEREND WILLIAI^I WHITE,

a Bishop of the Episcopalian Church in the United States,

Gentlemen,

Y OU Avill, I doubt not, be surprized at my de- dication of any v/ork of mine to you, differing so much as we do in our sentiments concerning Chris- tianity. But, entertaining the highest respect for your characters, as men and as christians, I do it he raise we differ; to shew, with respect to a sub- ject in which we are equally interested, as in tiiat of this work that I regard all that bear the christi- an name, how widely distant soever their different

a ii. churches

ii DEDICATION.

cliiirches and creeds may be, as friends and breth- ren, a]id therefore entided, by the express directi- on of our common Saviour, to poiticulai' respect and attention as such.

Though few persons Ivjve written more than myself to controvert the established principles of each of your churches, 1 consider the articles in A\ liich we all agree as of iniinitely more moment than those v. ith respect to Avhich we differ. We all believe in the being, the perfections, the uni- versal' providence, and the righteous mor.l govern- ment of God, as die maker and sovereign disposer of all things. V/hatever we may think of the per- son of Christ, we all believe that his doctrine is divine, and his precepts obligatory upon all. We all believe in his miracles, his death, his resurrecti- on, and his ascension, as related in the books of the New Testament. We also all belie^'c that he will come again, to raise all the dead, to judge the world, and to o-ive to every man according to his works ; and these are all the articles of faith that can have any considerable influence on the lives and conduct of m-n. Believing this, our gratitude for the com- munication of knowledge of such infinite impor- tance must be common to us all, and such as^should

lead

DEDICATION. iii

lead to a chearful obedience to all the commands of God.

I know that the creeds of both your established churches doom me, and all that are out of their pale, as discarding some particular articles of your /aith, to perish caerlastingly , notwithstanding every thing that we may believe, or do. But I know that the candid and liberal of ail persuasions are provided with some salvo for the conscientious heretic. But whatever may be your opinion with respect to me, which I know will be as favourable as you can make it, I have no doubt bu^, if I ever do get to heaven, I shall meet with both of you there. In that state our minds will be so much enlightened, that the bigotry which has contribut- ed so much to the miseries of this life, but which has, at the same time, lieen a valuable exercise of christian candour, will no longer exist. With respect to myself, the time in v.'hlch every thing of this kind will be cleared up, and no doubt to uni- versal satisfaction, cannot be very distant ; and the difference betv/een my opinion, that it will be af- ter an interval of rest in the grave, and yours that it will take place with respect to each individual immediately after his death, cannot be thought of much moment, by those wha believe they shall

live for ever after it.

a iii. With

iv DEDICATION. ,

With the highest esteem for your personal cha- racters, though you are probably unknown to each other.

I am Gentlemen,

Your brother in the faith, and hope of the Gospel.

J. PRIESTLEY, Northumberland 1804.

PREFACE.

WHEN I wrote the Pamphlet entitled Socrates and Jesus Compared^ which I was led to do fi-om the perusal of Xenophon's Memorabilia, in order to form a more distinct idea than I then retained of the subjects and the manner of the teaching of So- crates, and from seeing his character in a dinerent lieht from that in which it had been usuailv re- presented, I had no thoughts of doing any ching more in the same way. But my friends in gene- ral approving of the pamphlet, and seeing in the same light with myself the great superiority which It exhibited of the character and teaching of Jesus to that of this most moral, and most celebrated, of 'all the Grecian philosophers, I was urged to give a similar view of all the Grecian moralists, compar- ing their principles with those of revelation in ge- neral.

At first this appeared to me too great an under- taking at my age, and wdth increasing infirmities* But finding that my librar)^ notwithstanding the

a iv. destruction

vi PREFACE.

destruction of a great part of it at the nets in Bir- mingham, \\as so fai- restored as to contain ahnost evei'v book that I wanted for the purpose, having a predilection for the work, and abundant leisure in my present retired situation, I repcrused the writ- ings of all the Grecian moralists that hav^ come to lis, making all the extracts that I thought ne- cessary, and then composed the different parts of the work \vith \\hich I now present the reader ; It was however not done in the order m Vvhich they ;u-e now arranged, but as the}- appeared to me of the most importance, giving directions to my son, that if I died before the work was compleated, he would publish what I had finished ; having taken (he precaution to transcribe, and prepare for the press, each of the separate parts before I under^ took any other. In this manner, with much more ease, and I will add, more to !ny satisfaction, thaif I expected, I compleated my de;.ign.

My labour was the shorter, as I had nothing to do with the logic, the metaphysics, or the physics, of the \vriters all equally trifling and absurd, but only with such passages in their v;ritings as related to the being, the attributes, and the providence of God, their sentiments concerning the human soul, nnd .especially its destination after death, and tb.eir

general

PREFACE. vii

general principles of morals. For with these sub- jects only could they be brought into comparison with the doctrines of the scriptures. Also, my comparison extended no farther than till Christia- nity became the religion of the Roman Emperors. For after this the tenets of the philosophers and those of the christians were strangel}- mixed, so that it might be said they borrowed from each o- ther. I have therefore confined myself to the pe- riod in which they were entirely separate. For though after the promulgation of Christianity the heathen philosophers had sufficient opportunity of acquainting themselves with its principles, tlicy appear to have been entirely ignorant of them, or to have given litde attention to them. This ap- pears to me to have been the case with ivlarcus Antoninus, and others who lived long enough af- ter the time of Christ. If they had any knoNA-- ledge of christian principles, their bias was rather aorainst than in favour of them.

There are several subdivisions of the Grecian jihilosophers which I have not noticed, l:>ut they were such as made only some small variation in some of the general systems of which I haA^c given a particular account. The most considerable of them were Sceptics, and the Academics ; but they

av, advanced

viii PREFACE.

advanced iiothirig new, and only doubted, and dis- puted, in different wa3's about theposilions of others. For a more paiticular account of all the Grecian philosophers than it was to my purpose to give, I refer the reader to tlie excellent History of Philo- sophy by Dr. Enficid, most judiciously compiled from the elaborate v.'ork of Brucker. As the sen- timents of the Grecian philosophers have been re- presented very differently, by writers who had dif- ferent views in characterizing them, I thought it necessary to give numerous extracts from their own works ; so that the reader 'may be con !i dent that I have not made any mistake of importance in my account of them.

I once thought of adding another part, on the sentiments of Cicero, for though he was the found- er of no sect, he was v/ell acquainted with the principles of them all, and no doubt made his se- lection of those vvhich he most approved. But be- sides that diere is nothing of his own in any thing he has advanced on the several subjects, it is not easv to ascertain vrhat his real sentiments were. His preference may in general be pretty wtW dis- tinguished among the different speakers in his dia- io"-ues ; but it ^vas too great an object with him to embeUish whatever he undertook to defend; so

that

PREFACE ir

that there is often more of tlie orator, than of the philosopher, even in his philosophical works.

I can by no means persuade myself to think so highly of the rehgioiis sentiments of Cicero, and of their having been the real principles of his con- .

duct, as Dr. Middleton does. He crives him every \

thing that is most essenlii^l in Christianity, or vrliat was by himseh"thought to be so ; and among the ^

rest a belief in t]:je immortality of the soul, and its separate existence in a state of happiricss or mise- i

ry after death ; vv'hereas he expressly s:i}'s there i

could hardly be found a foolish old woman ^vho '

feared what Iiad formerl}^ been believed of the dreadful thin8:s in the shades below. De Natu- ra deomm. (Lib. ii. cap. 2.) Yet on this subject, among others, Middleton says. (Life of Cicero Vol. in. p 240. y' " that Cicero has largely and " clearly declared his mind in many parts, of his " writings." Any person, however, may see in Dr. Middleton's work a large account of \\ hat is contained in the writings of Cicero on this subject ; and to this elaborate, entertaining, and truly valu- able work I refer the reader.

I have little doubt, but that the opinion expressed by C<esar, in his speech, as given l;y Sallust, in

the

36 PREFACE.

the debate concerning the punishment of the Asso- ciates of Cataline, was that which was maintained by the senators in general, and all persons of rank and education at Rome ; as it was not delivered by Caesar as his own in particular, but evidently as what he apprehended would be that from \\hich 1 his hearers would not dissent. Cato, who spake

■( after him, did not express any disapprobation of

what he had said. Indeed as a stoic, he could not. Cicero himself was present, and did not contra- dict him. " In sorrow and distress," Caesar said, *' Death is a state of rest from all trouble, and not " of torment. It puts an end to all the evils to *' which men are subject, and beyond it there is no " room for care or joy."

The result of the whole of this work, even to the most superficial observer, must be a sense of the infinite superiority of the doctrines of Revela- tion, and especially of those of Christianity, to those of any heathen system whatever ; and with this great advantage, that the principles of revelation are perfectly intelligible to the bulk of mankind, and the same with those which actually influence men in the common conduct of life ; giving them a knowledge of what they have to hope from the ' practice of virtue, and what they have to fear in

conse.

PREFACE. xi

consequence of vice. Moreover, these rules of life, CGiTiing immediately from the author of their being, have a great advantage in point of weight, and authority, far more than any mere reascrung, though ever so clear and satisfactory, could have givei'. them.

Accordingly, the precepts of Moses were not, like the teachings of the Greek philosophers, con- fin-.d to a few, but calculated for the use of the whole nation, the lowest as much as the highest among them. The doctrines and precepts of Christianity are also equally intelligible to all man- kind ; and they are represented as of equal impor- tance and concern to all, the slave as much as his master. Such a plan of general instruction was ne- ver practiced, nor, as far as appears, did the very idea of it ever occur to any of the Greek moralists. The lectures of the philosophers were given to se- lect disciples, who generally paid for their instruc- tion. With the common people they had nothing to do, while at the same time they encouraged them in their absurd and abominable religious rites, founded on that polytheism and idolatry which they themselves held in contempt ; and this was founded on as groundless an opinion as any that was ever entertained by the lowest of the peo- ple,

xii PREFACE.

pie, viz. that the welfare of the state depended up- on the observance of them.

The attention I have given to this subject has increased the sense I had before of the Qjreat \alue of rcvelarion to the virtue and happiness of man- kind, and my gratitude to the universal parent, that I was born in a christicin country, and in an age so much enlightened as the present. I re- joice also that 1 have been led, in the course of his providence, to do so much as I have done to- wards illustrating and defending the evidences of

[ re^'clation, and towards purging it from those doc- trines and practices w^hich were discordant with it, and prevented its reception with many. I am willing to think that my comparison of the i?istituti' ons of the Hindoos^ and ether ant'ient natlonsy nuhh those of Moses, and tiiis work, which extends the comparison to all the sects of the Grecian phiioso- phers, v.iil emhicntly contribute to this end. Last- ly, I am thankiLii to die author of m.y being that

' mv life has been prolonged so hr as to have been able to compleat my/lesign. I could not have closed my life with more satisfaction than after a work of this kind. May the great Lord of the har- vest send more, more zealous, and more able, la- bourers into his harvest.

THE

Principles of the Grecian PHILOSOPHY.

[part I.]

ON

Tpie state of religious and moral prin- ciples IN Greece before the TIME Of Pythagoras.

INTROBUCriON.

XN comparing the moral maxims of the heathen world with those of revelation, which is the object of this work, it is desirable to go as far back as we can, with any sufficient evidence, ofwhat men real- ly tliought and did ; and though witli respect to Greece we cannot go so far back as we can \\\\\\ re- spect to Hindostan, and other oriental natioiiS, we have two early wTiters on whom we may depend, yiz. the poets Hesiod and Homer; and they flourished, according to Newton, about eight hun- dred years before the christian eera :

A. We

T'- ' :-rciPLES or

-;'^7t' h'm 'poem of considerable lengthy

c^..: .^ precepts for the conduct of life, by

Th E 0 G N 1 s , v'hich does not appear to have suffered b} interpolation ; and he flourished more than four hundred years before Clirist ; and also a shorter po- em of Phqcylides of the same age, thought by some to contain christian sentiments, and therefore to have been interpolated ; we have also a collecti- on of sayings of those who are generally called the se'Dcn 'vjisc men of Greece^ who lived about six hun- dred years before Cliiist, preserved by Diogenes Laertius. Thou gh all these are not of equal au tho- rity, I shall quote nothing from any of them but what w ill appear, by a comparison with others the antiquity of which is unquestionable, to be suffici- ently to my purpose.

It is something remarkable that, near as Greece is to Palestine and Egypt, not only all science^ pro- perly so called, but a knowledge of the common and most useful arts.y seems to have been unknown for ages in that country, till they were brought to them by the Phenicians or Egyptians, who came a- mong them to find settlements, after flying from their own counti'ies, and who found them in a state of the greatest barbarism, and divided into a great

number

THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY, 3

number of da? is ; for nations or states thev did not deserve to be called ; and in a state of hostility with each otiier, as mankind in a similar situation are al- waj's found to be.

These wandering tribes of Greece, similar to tliose in North America at present (for they were a long time in no better, but rather in a worse state ivith respect to ci^iiization,) must no doubt, have had some notions of religion ; since no people in the world hi\Q been intirely without them ; but v. hat they were in that rude state of the country it is im- possible to trace. Tlie sacred rites and modes of worship that we find accounts of in their ^niters were acknowledged to ha\'e been borrowed from Egypt, and other countries. And even this ivas in so eai'ly a period, before they had any writers, that tlie obsen-ance of them had been from time imme- morial; so tliat the veneration they had acquired fi-om their antiquity was not to be shaken.

Whatever they were, and they were different in eveiy part of the countiy, and more or less in every different toy^m and hamlet, they were supposed to be connected with die well-being of the place ; so that it would have been thought hazardous to make any change in them. Nor do we find that this vv^as

A 2. ever

THE PRINCIPLES 0?

c\ tr Gone in any heatlien country. They might a- clcpt n'j'.v gods, and new modes cf worsliip, but they never abandoned their own imticnt ones.

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vHizatlcn of Greece must have been a consk' . i\,bk ilnie after the greatest part of the kncvvleclge derived from re^-elation had bceii lost in the East, as will be evident to any person ^.ho compares what he finds on this subject in th- earliest of the Greek Avriters with the book of Job, to say nothing of the writings of Moses. Job and liis friends, though probably not themselves favour- ed with any revelation, appear to have had a clear knowledge of the being, and the righteous govern- ment of the one true God, the maker of the world, and of all things in it, and also of a future state of righteous retribution. At least so It clearly ap- pears to me, though of late, and only of late, some christian writers have questioned this. But how ' miserably bewildered were the wisest of the Greeks with respect to these subjects. Of the knowledge of a future state, on the only principle of reason, as well as revelation, viz. that of a proper recurrection, we do not perceive the least trace among them. Instead of this, they had adopted a notion of a sepa- rale soul, or a ghost, descending after death into a

, region

TilE GRECIAN PKiLOSOPII Y. 5

resrion below the surface of the earth, and the most absurd fables rclatln?^ to their condi'.ion there ; tiiough these, do not appear to have had any credit with the writers, nor probably ^\ith any persons of much thought and reflection among them.

Section I.

Of the Obligation to the IForship of the Gods in

general.

The general and established opinion of a superi- ' * a< ^ ^Y ^ ' or power, or powers, governing the affairs of the ^>'*y^"^ oJLtOiM world and of men, and the oblisration that men \\erc ^ 6 "-^^ ^% under to worship them, according to the cu stomal-)' rites of each people, was universal. And this was not only the persuasion of the vulgar, but of all the writers without any exception. In a later period it is probable enough that Avhat several of the Avriters jjj

advance on this subject might arise from a wish not J

to shock the prejudices of the populace , but with f|

respect to the period of which I am now treating,

there seems to be no reason to doubt of their sincer- '

ity; the precepts on this subject are so numerous, and urged in so emphatical a manner by them ali. The obligation to worship the gods is urged by So-

43. louj.

6 THE PRINCIPLES 0?

Ion, one of whose sayings v.^s, " honour the gods, rever- ence thy parents."

None of the seven wise men of Greece, can be said to have been writers, and therefore we have not suiiiciciit authority for their real opinions. But Thecgnis and PhocyUdes were ; and irt the poem of the former, we find (vri70.) " Pray to the gods " who have gi'cat power,'' for without the gods men " have neither good nor evil." Here we see tlie belief of ihis writer in the providence, as well as in ' V K. » ^ the existence, of the gods; but we shall have more

^. V abundant evidence of this hereafter. Phocylides

^v ». says (v. 7.) " In the first place worship the gods,

" then honour thy piu^ents, judge no man unjustly, " for afterwards God will judge thee." Indeed, Vi hat this poet says of God may widi some reason be suspected to have been drawn fi-om the principles of revelation, and therefore to be an intei-polation. For he says, v. 48, " There is one God, wise, pow- *' erful, and self sufficient."

Hesiod, though in his Theogony he retails all the Grecian fables concerning the origin and de- scent of the gods, all of whom he derives fi"om the earthy which was therefore prior to them all, yet his r>oeni intitkd On fiorks contains excellent senti- ments

THE GRECIAN I'HILOSOPHY. 7

ments, and good advice on this subject, as well as on many others. Addi'cs.sing his brother, lie suys, (Lib. I. V 334.) " According to thy ability, sacri- " fice to the immortal gods moniiiig and evening, " tliat they ma}- shew thee fa\'our, and tliat thou may- " est purchase the possesions of others, and odiers *' not purchase thine. Pray (Lib. IL v. 84.) to Ju- " piter and Ceres, that j'ou may ha\'e a good in- *' crease." According to Hesiod Jupiter destroy-, ed a whole race of men, because they did not give due honour to the gods, (Lib. L v. 138.) ''

Many of liesiod's precepts relating to religion, andtlie business of husbandry too, savour of a ridi- culous superstition ; but at tliis we cannot wonder, considering in how early and ignorant an age he lived. *' Do not," says he (Lib. IL v. 343.) *' make libation, to Jupiter \\ ith unv.ashen hands, " nor to the other immortal gods ; for thej- ^vill not " hear, but abominate, such prayers." Kis poem On Days contains hardly an^-^ thinp; besides directi- ons of the most superstitious and absurd kind, but his two books On fForks contain many excellent precepts, both of moralit}^ and common pru- dence.

^ 4.. Secti-

8 THE PR INCIFI.es 01

Section U.

Of the Superiority of Jupiter^ the principal Cod qf

the Greeks.

Notwithstanding the polytheism of the Greeks, they retained so much of the primitive doctrine of one supreme God, thatthey gave this pre-eminence to their Jupiter ; and indeed seem to have ascribed to him universal dominion, and every attribute requi- site for the exercise of it. We see this even in Ho- mer, notwithstanding his account of such actions of the same Jupiter as sink him fai- below the level of many men. But a strolling bard, who got his liv- ing by accommodating himself to all kinds of peo- ple, could not contradict the popular tales of his countrj'men, absurd as he might think them ; and they served, as a very convenient machinery, as it is now called, for his poem.

Besides that one of the epithets of Jupiter in Ho- mer {jxYiTisja) implies wisdom, he is expressly said, (Iliad, Lib. XHI. v. 631.) to "excel all the gods *' and men in wisdom" ; and when the wisdom of Ulysses and also that of Hector, is praised, it is

compar-

THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHV. 9

compared to that of Jupiter (Iliad. Lib. II. 168. Lib. VII. V. 74) He is also stiled the omnipotent (Iliad. Lib. II. V. 115.) and said " to command mortiil's " and immortals" ( Lib. XII. v. 242.) He is repre- sented as asserting his own superiority to all the gods and goddesses, both in wisdom and power, and they all allow it (Iliad, Lib. VIII. v 9 ) &c. When the demolition of several cities, particularly named, is ascribed to him, it is added, " whose power is the " greatest." (Iliad, Lib. IX. v. 25.)

Theognis had the same idea of the great superi. ority of Jupiter, when he says (v 802.) "not even " Jupiter, who rules over mortals and immortals, " can please all men."

With respect to the issue of the Trojan war, Ho- mer says, " the will of Jupiter was done." (Iliad, Lib. I. V 5.) asifthe whole had depended upon him ; and yet there remains some doubt whether there was not, even in the opinion of Homer himself, an- other power in some respects superior to him, and which he could not control, viz. Fate as we shall see hereafter.

We could not expect such attributes as these of the greatest wisdom and power in the son of Saturn, though called the father of gods cilidmen (Iliad,

A5. lib.

\

10 TH.E PRINCiriES OF

Lib. XV. v. 47.) foraccordinsr to Hesiod, this Sa-

O .■. J, , ,, .

turn Has onl}^ the youngest soii^ or production, of llie eaith aiid the heavens, and had no higher epithet

tlian that of crafty (afxi-Ac//.-// 7 ?jc) and the heavens, one of his parents, v/as tlie offspring of the earl/ij the other of them.

This universal opinion of the great superiority of Jupiter had certain!}- a higher origin than Hesiod's Theogony gives him, and must have been the re- mains of a much purer system of theology, which taught the docti'hie o^o?ie God, infinitely Mise, pow- erful, and good, a flivourer of virtue, and superin- tending all the affairs of men, as we shall see tliis Jupiter to do.

Section III.

Of Fiwidcnce,

The farther we proceed in this examination, the more convinced we shall be that the Jupiter of the more sensible of the Greeks was a very different person from the son of tlie crafty Saturn, or the le- cherous deity of the Milgar, and of the stage; and we shall see that tliey gaA e him a field of exertion suitable to the extraordinary powers witli v/hich

they

THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY.

11

tliey Invested him. According to them, he was notliing less than the supreme Governor of the world, and the sovereign disposer of all things in it, and not only of such things as cannot be fore- seen or prevented by man, but of such as seem to depend upon human exeition.

Wealtli is, to appearance, most certainly acquir- ed by industry and economy, directed by good sense In the conduct of men's affairs; but notwith- standing this, it is constantly represented by these imters as the gift of Jupiter, and if a man be poor, it is by them ascribed to his not favouring him. Hesiod says (On Works, Lib. I. v. 5.) " It is Ju- ** piter who raises up one, and depresses another. "It is Jupiter who gives poverty to men," (On Works, Lib. II. v. 257.) Theognis says (v. 157. 165.) " No person is rich or poor," and he adds, *' good or bad," ^^ ithout a deity. He makes " some *' rich, and others poor. God surrounds a good " man with every blessing, good success, and free- " dom from folly ; and we ought to bear whatever *' the gods impose upon us." (v. 591.) Agreea- bly to this he prays (v. 1115.) "May Apollo and " Jupiter grant that I may live free from evil, en- " joying health and riches." He says, however

(v. 863.

>^

12 THE PRINCIPLES OP

(v. 863.) " Gc»cl gives wealtli to nni-'y V/ortlJecs " men, who r.rc of no use to themselves^ oi' their " friends;" Stiil, howe\*er it ic cTlcposed of, it h the gift of tlie gocis. And he says (v. 325.) " If " the gods give a bad man wealth and riches, hkc a " fool, he cannot restrain his malice, but a jr.st man *' is the same in good or bad fortune,'* He there- fore reasonably makes this a motive to a good use of riches. *' Whatever God gives to 5X)u, of that *' give to the poor." He also maizes it a motive to bear misfortunes with patience. " In misfortune *' pray to the gods, and make no boast, (v. v357.)

According to the poetical representation of Ho- mer (Ihad. Lib. XXIV. v. 527) " There arc placed " at the gates of Jupiter two casks, one of them *' containing good, and the other evil," out of which it is hereby intimated that he gives to man out of one or other of them as he pleases. According to the uniform language of Homer, honour is also the gift of Jupiter, as Avell as advantages of eiery o- therkind. (Iliad. Lib. II. v. 198.)

The events of ivar are, according to Homer, no less at the disposal of Jupiter, than wealth and lienor, though the Greeks had a god, Mars, whose pc- culiai' province it was to attend to it. He is ex- pressly

TIIi: GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY. lo

prestily called (Iliad. Lib. IV. v 84.) " the arbiter <* of war'' and is said, (Iliad. Lib. 11. v. 309.)" to " give the victoiy to whom he pleases It is he" he says '* (lilad. Lib. II. v. 94.) that makes a man *' awanior, aiidhe soon turns to flight the valiant" (Iliad, Lib. XVI. v. 690. ) Ke even inspired Ajax witli fear (Lib. XL v. 543.) Hesiod, agreeably to tliese sentiments, says (On Works, Lib. I. v. 225.) *' Jupiter does not visit a just nation with war."

In like manner this poet considers the same Ju- piter as tlie giver of %vi/ie, tliough l^acchus is said to have discovered it, to have imparted it to men, and to preside over every thing relating to it. Nay, Hesiod, in thrc e or four different places of his The- ogny, gives the gods in general the glorious title of {hryjosg iocMv,) the ghers of good. (v. 46,633,664, Sec) It was a saying of Bias, "Whatever good you do " ascribe it to the gods." These are precious re- mains of a very remote anticjuity, derived no doubt, from the most genuine and purest source.

In order to this government of the world, and the sovereign distributions of every thing in it, it was necessary that the gods, and especially Jupiter, the chief of tliem, should know every thing that passes in it; and accordingly this is taken for

gi-antcd

14 THE PRINCIPLES OP

granted by all the writers within this period. *' Do " not" says Theognis, (v. 1195.) " swear falsely " by the gods. This is not to be borne, for no- *' thing can be concealed from them." "The " eye of Jupiter," says Hesiod, (On Works, Lib. I. V. 265.) " who sees every thing, and under- *' stands every thing, is not ignorant of any thing *' that passes within a state." He is therefore fre- quently appealed to in Homer as always present, and a witness to contracts, as in (Iliad, Lib. VH. V. 76. 411.) He is prayed to (Iliad, Lib. VII. V. 178.) to determine die lot that was to decide which of the Grecian warriors was to fight Hector. It was a saying of Thaies (who said that God had no beginning and ^vill have no end,) that "neither *' the actions, nor the thoughts, of l^ad men are con- *' cealed from the gods."

As attending more especially to the affairs of states, and kingdoms, Jupiter is represented as *' the guardian of kings," (Iliad. Lib. II. v. 97.) and the Greeks are said to have derived their laws from him (Lib. I. v. 239.) How uncertain any particular event may be Avith respect to man, it is not so, according to Theognis, with respect to God. " It is difficuh," he says (v. 1074.) '' to

" know'

THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHV. IJ

*' know how a thing that is not finished will end, '• Ci how God will bring it about."

This is frequently the language of our scriptures; with respect to the constant attention that God gives to the affairs of men, distributing health, wealth, power, success in war, and eery othcrnatural ad- vantage, or withholding them, and appointing in their place calamity of every kind, as he pleases, and for reasons that it is not In the power of man to comprehend. These heathens do not, however, seem to have entertained the same persuasion that the sacred writers had, of the wisdom and good- ness of the Supreme Being in these mysterious dispensations, w'hich, whether they could distin- guish or not, they ahvaj's take for granted. These heathens also never express the noble sentiment that occurs so frequently in the scriptures, that hardships of every kind are frequently appointed to be the lot of the righteous, for an exercise of their virtue, and as the correction of a kind and judici- ous parent ; and that a proper reception of them, and behaviour under them, will entitle the virtu- ous sufferers to a glorious reward. Having no knowledge of a future state, they could not see so far into the conduct of providence.

16 THE PRINCIPLES OF

Section IV.

Of Jupiter"* s Regard to Virtue.

As the e!>rly Greek writers have given to Jupiter the government of the world, though not the creati- on of it, and in^^ested him with powers equal to it, tliey have not failed to give him a disposition worthy cfthat high station, representing him as the friend of virtue in general, and especially of justice, be- coming so great a governor,

Hesiod has many excellent observations, express.

ed 11 ith great energy, on this subject. " Let us" hesays(OnWorks,Lib.I. v. 35.) " give right judg- '^ ments in contests, for these are from Jupiter. Ex- *' ercise justice, and forget violence, this is the law " that Jupiter imposes upon men, and that only " beasts of prey should live by violence and slaugh- *' ter, (On Works, Lib. L v.275. ) Jupiter, see- *' ing at a distance, punishes injustice and wicked- „ ness, (On Works, Lib. I v. 236.) the people die, " women do not bear children, families decrease, " and their ships perish. To just men Jupiter *' gives wealth, and his descendants prosper, but the

" un-

THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY. 17

" unjust man injures himself, and his posterity." (Oil Works, Lib. I. V. 280.)

To enforce these admonitions, he gives the fol- lowing beautiful allegory, " O kings, respect jus- " tice ; for the gods, who are conversant among " men, see all the unjust judgments of those who " do not regai'd their threatcnings- For there ai'e " three myriads, the sons of Jupiter on the earth, *' the guardians of men, who take an account both of *' justice and injustice, having vestments of 'air, and " visiting all parts of the earth. Justice is a virgin, *' tlie daughter of Jupiter ; and if any person of- " fend her, she immediately complains of it to Ju- " piter, and the people suffer for the ofTences of " their kings, who do not decide justly." (On Works, Lib. I. v. 246.) Lastly, he represents Jupiter as having resolved to destroy the fxfth, and last, race of men, on account of tlieir vices and depravity in general. (On \\''orks, Lib. I. v. 178.)

Theognis concurs in the same sentiments with Hesiod in representing Jupiter as the friend and benefactor of good men. " The wealth," (v. 197.) " hesaysthat Jupiter gives to a just man is perma- " nent. By injustice and oppresssion many acquire " wealth; but it will be lost, for the mind of God ^' is superior." R. More

IS THE PRINCIPLES OF

More especially, Jupiter, and the gods in gene- ral, are represented as offended vX perjury, arid de- termined to punish it. '* The immortal gods," says Phccyiides (v. 15.) " hate a false oath, whoever takes it." And Theognis says, " never " svrear that any thing shall not be ; for the gods *' are angry at it." (v. 659.) In Homer Jupiter is freciuendy appealed to for the observance of oaths, and requested to punish the guilty, (Iliad, Lib. III. v. 321.) Talthybias calls to witness in the first place Jupiter, stiled on this occasion, by the re- markable cliaracter of the greatest and the best, then the sun, the earth, and the furies, Avho he says punish the perjured under the earth, (Iliad, Lib. yiv V Q57 )

Other vices are occasionally mentioned as incur- rino: the indignation of Jupiter. " Father Jupiter ^' will not favour a liar" (IHad, Lib. IV. v. 235.) '' May the celestial gods," says Theognis {v. 850.) " destroy the man that shall by smooth speeches " deceive his friend." Hesiod says (On Works, Lib. I. V. 329.) " He who deceives the orphan, or " abuses his aged pai'cnts, Jupiter is certainly angry " with him, and at the last he will give an account *' of all his unjust actions." In Homer Mene-

laus

y'

THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY. 19

laus prays that " Jupiter may give him to punish " the wicked Alexander, that hereafter all men may " dread to injure a person who has received them " with kindness." (Iliad, Lib. III. v. 11.) Chi- lon being asked what Jupiter was doing, said, " He is humbhng the proud and exalting the hum- " ble."

No Jew or Christian could appeal with more con- fidence to the justice and equity of the t'-ue God than these persons do to their Jupiter. It is evi- dent, therefore, that, vviiatever name they gave this object of their worship they had the same idea of his general character ; and this must have been de- rived from the same source. The belief of a rich- teous governor of the world appears never to ha\^e been wholly abandoned by mankind. Though the name was changed, andmultiplicit}^ took the place of unity, what was most essential to the righ- teous administration of aftairs was, in a considera- ble degTce, though accompanied \\ith much super- stition, retained. The heathens were deficient chiefly in their ignorance of a future state, in v.lileh the seeming ireigularities, and many unaccounta- ble appearances in this life, will be rectified to uni- versal satisfaction.

B 2. Secti-

A

20 THE PRINCIPLES OF

Section V. Of the hiflucnce of the Fates.

It is something remarkable that, notwithstanding the omnipotence which the heathens ascribed to their gods, and their control over the affairs ofmen^ they had im idea of a power which the gods them- selves either could not^ or did not chuse to oppose. This was Fate^ or the Fates. And yet this was a divinity to which they never ascribed any degree of wisdom.

According to Hesiod, the Fates were the daugh- ters of Jupiter, and he gave them this extraordinary power. '^ Jupiter" (and whom on this occasion he styles " the wise, ^vjTiSTa) produced the Parcoc *' {[jiopov) Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos, to whom " he gave the greatest honour, who distribute good " and evil to mortal men," Theognis v. 905. But in another place of the same poem (v. 211) he says that, " Night produced odious Fate (Kyjptx) *' and the black Pai'coe (g-ap/o/x) and death, without

" the concurrence of any deity and the fatal

" goddesses, and cruel Parcce, Clotho, Lachesis,

"and

THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHY, 21

** and Atropos, who appoint good and evil to men ** that are born, who revenging the offences of men ** and gods, never remit of their anger till they have punished the offender." Here the same powers have a different origin, and are altogether indepen, dent of Jupiter, or any of the gods, and superior to them all.

Besides the sovereign power over life and death, and external advantages of every kind, the affecti- ons and characters of men are sometimes ascribed to these fates. *' The Fates," says Homer, (Iliad, Lib. XXIV. V. 49.) " give a patient mind to man." However, with respect to the important ailicle of life or death, their decision was never violated ; and the time, and all the circumstances, of a man's death were determined by them, as well as the death itself. Thus Neptime iissures Achilles, who knew that he was never to return from the siejje of Troy, that is was not his fate to be drowned in the river, when he apprehended that he was in great danger from it. (Iliad, Lib. XXI. v. 291.) He wishes tliat he might die by the hand of Hector, ^ brave man, but he knew that he should fall b}^ a less noble hand. (Iliad, Lib. XXI. v. 278.)

Whutc\cr the gods might whh, they never fail-

P 3, e4

22 THE rsiNCIPLES OF

ed to acquiesce in the known decision of the fates. Achilles, lamenting his destiny, says that '^ Hercu- " les, though most dear to Jupiter, was conquered " by Fate, and tlie anger of Juno (Iliad, Lib. XVIII. V. 118.) " Itwasinthellitcs,'^ he says, (Iliad. Lib. XVIII. v. 328.) " that two friends of " his should die before Troy, as ^vell as that he " was not to return to Greece." It was one of the sayings of Pittacus. " The Gods cannot op- *' pose Fate."

On several occasions the gods express some de- face of fear least the orders of the fates should be violated. Neptune, expressing his regard for /Eneas, advises him not to fight before the death of Achilles (Iliad, Lib. XX. v. 336.) though he knew that it was not in the fates that he should, die l^y his hand. Both Apollo and Jupiter express their concern lest the Greeks should take Troy be- fore the time ordained by the fates. ( Iliad, Lib. XXL V. 516. XX. V. 30.)

On some occasions Jupiter, who is said to hsLve given this great power to the fates, seems to think it was in his power to control them, and to have been half inclined to do it ; but he yielded to flie lempnstrances of the other gods, wko opposed

his

THE GRECIAJJ PHILOSOPHY. 23

his resolution. Wlicn Hector was driven by A- chilles round the walls of Troy, Jupi-ter expressed an inclination to save him from death. But ]Mi- nerva says to him, (Iliad, Lib. XXII. v. 180.) *' Would you deliver from death a mortal man, "destined to die by the fates? Do v. hat you *^ please, but we, the rest of the gods, will not give *' our consent." He acknowledged that it was in the fates that Sarpcdon shc/iild die by the hand of Patroclus, and wished to convey him to a place of safety; but Juno expostulating with him on the subject, he acqu iesced. (Iliad. Lib. X\'I. v. 432.) The independence of the decision of tliese fates on the will of the gods seems not to have been a fixed principle. For Ulysses, spcakiiig to Tiresias in the El3^sian fields says, according to Homer, (O- dyssey, Lib. XL v. 138.) "Perhaps the gods them- " selves have decreed these thmgs. (.Trj/cA^jo-av) At what time this decision of the fates vras made, is not said in diese WTitcrs ; but it v.as commo:i!v supposed to be at the birth ofever}^ particular per- son. It was, however, considered as so irrevoca- ble, that these fates, though goddesses, were never prayed to, it being taken for granted that ^vhatever they had advanced it would never be altered.

B 4. There

24 THE PRINCIPLES OF

There was another celestial power acknowledg- ed by the Greeks, but seemingly not so early as the times of Hesiod and Homer, as thev make no mention of her. This was Fortune. For whate- ver was afterwards ascribed to her, is by him, and all the other Axriters that I have quoted, ascribed to Jupiter, cr some other of the gods.

Neither of these powers are, how^ever, knoA\ n in the scriptures. According to them, every thing in the world, life and death, riches and poverty, success, oi" tie want of it, in war, and undertakings of any otiier kind, are ascribed to the providence of that one God, who created and governs all things, and whose will, independently of any such powers as those of Fate or Fortune, decides upon every thing. To him \\t are taught to look for every thing, as being wholly dependant upon him, and accounta- ble to him. This fi'ees the mind from that per- plexity, to which the wisest of the heathens must have been subject, while they had any apprehensi- on of this bl'md Jate to which, whether willingly or unwillingly, their gods themselves, without except- ing even Jupiter, submitted.

SZCTI-

THE GRECIAN PHILOSOPHV. 25

Section VI.

Of Moral Duties, and also of Death a?id the CoTiy-

sequences of it.

Almost all the writers that I have quoted in this part of my work deliver excellent precepts both respecting morals properly so called, and the pru- dent conduct of life, similar to the Prouerbs of So- lomon, to which they will often well bear to be compared. Many parts of Hesiods poem On Works, and the sentences of Theognis, are particiiiarly va- luable on this account, though the superstition of the former, or rather that of the age and tlie coun- try in which he lived, as appears in the second part of the poem viz. On Days, is extreme.

On the subject of death, and its consequences, there is a remarkable silence in all the serious wri- ters of this period. The knowledge of the doc- trine of a resurrection was completely lost, but there are traces of a belief that the soul survives the grave, though not of any state of riijhteous re- tribution, in which the righteous ^^ ill be reAvarded, and the wicked punished for their actions here, ex-

B 5. ccpt

26 IKE rili.NTCIPLES OF

<

cept in those fables of Homer concerning the state of ghosts in tartarus and elysium, probably not se- riously believed by himself; so that tlie great sanc- tion of virtue, familiar to Jews and Christians Vvas unknov»n to them.

In Phocyliclcs are some sentences which express a clear belief of souls surviving the grave. " Im- *' mortal souls," he says (v. 110.) " free from old " ?ge, live for ever. All the dead are equal," (v. 105.) " but God governs souls. We hope to " see tlie remains of the dead come out of the earth " into light, after which they will be gods. For *' incorruptible Souls remain in the dead. The *' spirit is the image of God given to mortals," (v. 100.) According to this the soul continues at- tached to the body sometime after.it is dead, which was die opinion of tlie Eg3-ptians, and the cause, as it is tliouglit of dicir endeavouring to preserve the bodies so long by embalming them, and keep- ing them in their houses.

After the perusal of this, how happy ought we to think ourselves for enjoyingthe glorious light of the Gospel, by which, and by which alone, life and'im- mortality are brought to light. Without this light, the ivisdom of the ii-(?r/</ availed but little to tlie mo- ral

THE GRECIAN FHILOSOPHY.

27

ral improvement and happiness of man. And as we proceed we shall find no increase of light, but rather of diarkness, with respect to this subject.

o r

0 ?

THE PHILOSOPHY

of PYTHAGORAS,

INTRODUCTION.

P

YTH AG OR AS appeal's to have been the first of all the Greeks who gave his whole time to philosophy either in tlie acquisition of knowledge or in tlie com^ munication of it to others. He is said to have been a native of Samos, and after having had some instruc- tion from Pherec}^des of Scjtos, (of wdiom little is known, except that he had some knowledge of Ori- ental philosophy,) he went to Egypt ; v. here, hav- ing the patronage of the king Amasis, he obtained leave to be initiated into the religion and philoso- phy of tlie Egyptians. The priests made him un- dergo a very severe discipline, including circumci- sion, but he submitted to every thing they enjoin- ed ; and, continuing in the countr}'^ twenty tv^o years, may be presumed to hiu e acquired all the

know*

OF THE PHILOSOPHY, 8cC. 29

knowledge that could be obtained there. Fhiding on his return no sufficient encouragement, in his endeavours to open a school of philosophy m his own countr}', he finally settled at Crotona, in that part of Italy which, in consequence of ha\'ing been colonized by Greeks, was called Magna Grascia ; from which his sect of philosophy \\-as called the Im/ic. Here his disciples were ver\^ numerous, and they continued \\4th more or less reputation a- bout two hundrad years.

It is not possible to ascertain with am^ certainty what it was that was taught by Pythagoras himself. For, besides committing nothing to writing, he en- joined the strictest secrecy on all his pupils, train- ing them to the most severe discipline, the first part of which is said to have been an uninterrupted si- lence of five years. By this means notliing of his doctrines transpired till a little before die time of Plato, which was something more than a centuiy aftet the establishment of the sect, when several phi- losophers in Greece having acquired much reputa- tion by their writings, the masters of the Italic schools began to publish what they had been taught of its doctrines, but mixed with their own.

Of these later Pythagoreans there are extant two curious and valuable ti-eatises, one by Ocellus

Luca-

30 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

Lucanus aiid the other by Timoeus Locrus, be- sides many large extracts by Stobceus from the \;ritings of Archytas, and besides many fragments irom Theages, the Sentences of Democrates, Se- cundus, Demophikis and Sextus, and verses wliich haAie obtained for their excellence the title o^goldcUy wTitten as Fabricius supposes by Empc- docles, butcerUiinly by .some learned Pythagorean. From these sources we must now be content to collect the best account rhat we can of the general principles of the Pythagorean philosophy. They are all published in Calebs Opuscula Mythologica,2iii6. some of the latter of them I suspect to contain sen- timents that do not properly belong to any system of heathen philosophy, but to have been borrowed from Cliribtianity. In the choice of these I have beeiif veiy spai'ing, and they will be noticed, as it is my object not to go beyond the time when Christianity became the religion of the Roman emperors.

From the genuine tracts above-mentioned it will not be difficult to collect a pretty just idea of the principles of this sect, at least as improved by the followers of Pythagoras; and as to what he taught that has never come to light, Avhich was probably something more near to the orientid philosophy, it is of little consequence to know at present.

Secti-

Of I'YTHAGOilAS. 31

Section I.

Con:crmng God.

That God is the maker and governor of the world, and tlie sovereign disposer of all events, was taken for granted bv all the Pythagoreans, and there is a great display of genuine piety in v/hat re- mains of their ^mtings. TimcEiis says " God is " the author and parent of ail things, but ^vhat is " produced by him we see with our eyes." The lionour due to God, and to other objects of wor- ship according to their respective ranks, is incul- cated in the first of the p-olden \erses of PythaQ-o- ras. " In the first place honor the gods, as the " laws direct, and observe oaths. Then venerate *' the famous heroes, and the infernal gods,perfonn- '' ing with respect to them the rites directed by " the laws. Then honour th}" pai^ents, and neai'est *' relations." This probably refers to some religious ceremony in honour of men's ancestors, which is to this day a great article in the religion of the Hindoos.

All this, however, might be in obedience to

the laws, the ojnii^sion of which ^vouldhave breii

punish-

32 OF THE PRINCIPLES

punishable; but the author of these verses farther directs to begin no work without asking the di- vine blessing for its success. Evil, as well as good, is here ascribed to the providence of God. *' Wliate^^er portion you have of the calamity that " beflils men through the divine appointment bear *' ^^ ith patience, and without complaining. How- *' ever, remedy the evil if you can, and consider *' that the ParccE do not assign much of this to good men." Here the assignment of the Parcce are considered as the same witli the will of the gods. One of the sayings collected by Demophi- his is, " God sends evil to men not in anger, for an- *' ger is foj'eign to God. This takes place when *' things come by accident, whereas nothing can " come to God but what he wills."

There is much good sense, as well as piety, in the precepts of Pythagoras relating to God, at

least such as are ascribed to him bv those who collected his sayings. Among them are the fol- lowing. " Gifts and sacrifices confer no honour *' on God, but a pious mind joins it finally to '' God. For things that are similar must be joined " to things similar, (Dem.) God has not on tlie " earth a place more suitable to him tlian a chaste

" and

91 PYTHAGORAS. 33

^* and pure mind. (lb.) If you consider that *' whatever is done by the mind or the body is " seen by God, you will revere his presence, from " whom nothing can be concealed ; for you will " have God residing in your breast," (lb.) Having mentioned a variety of good works, the golden verses add, " These will put you in the wayofdi- " vine virtue."

It is the more probable that these pious senti- ments were the genuine produce of the Pythagore- an school, as it was nearer to the patrraichal times, and something like those in the book of Job, when true piety was still more prevalent, and more free from superstidon. We shall, however, ob3er\'e a la- mentable departure from the simple idea of revela- tion, \^^hen we see what the P} tliagoreans say con- cerning the structure of the world, and the nature of the human soul, on which subjects they led die way to all the wild ideas of Plato and some of the sentiments of Aristotle, though these do not seem to have been willing to acknowledge their oblig-ati-

«iis to them.

SiCTIOJf

•34 ©F THE PHILOSOPHY

Section II. Of the Structure of the World, .

Vv e biiall see in this section how far the minds of the most intellirent men can wander from reason and common sense, when they speculate on subjects that are above their comprehension, and on which^ having ho light from revelation, it was impossible that they should get any at alio

Moses with great simplicity, as expressing all that he believed, and all that he could know, on the subject, says " In the beginning God created the heavens and the eartji. But these philosophers, hav- ing lost ever)^ tradition of this kind, (which, how- ever, was retained in the East) maintained that the universe had no beginning, as well as that it Avili have no end. " All plants and animals, says Ocel- " lus Lucanus (Cap. 1. & 3.) and also the human " race, have always been, and will ever be as they *' now are." This, too, is contrary to the doc- trine of our scriptures, which holds out to us a far more pleasing prospect, viz. a perpetual progress to a better state of things, and the great advantage

which

or PYTHAGORAS. 35

which virtuous men will derive from it, in tlieir own constant improvement, and the removal of eve- ry impediment to it, with eery thing else that is painful and distressing to them. Of this no hea- then philosopher had the least idea.

Notwithstanding the opinion of the Pythagore- ans, of one Supreme God, they admitted many in- ferior deities, and particularly considered t^?e luorld 3.S endued with life and divinity, and in their account of the formation of it we shall see the inte/- ligibk ideas of Plato, v.-hich he, no doubt, borrow- ed from them. " God," says Timceus, " fonii- *' ed the world out of ail kinds of matter. It is " one, the only begotten, endued with a soul and *' reason. Wlien God willed to produce a per *' feet oifspring, he made this generated god, not to *' be perishable from any cause except by the god " that made it. The world therefore remains as it " was created by God, free from corruption and '*' death. It is the best of all created things, since *' it arose from the best of causes. In this the cre- " ator proposed to himself no model made by hand, *' but his own ideas, and intelligible essence, accord- ing to which, when things are ma,de with exqui- '* site art, they are the most beautiful, and require ' not to be mended by any new operation."

C 2. In

56 OF THE PHlLOSOfH'Y

In a fai'tlier account of these ideas y he says', " There is in the universe something that is per- " manent, and inteIHgible, the examplar of the *' things that are produced, which are in a pcrpetu- "al flux. They are called ids as y and are compre- licnded bv the mind." He afterwards calls these

idc^s forms which are coinpreheRcIed by the mind, and sciaicc. "Before the heavens existed, there

" v.ere forms ^ cj\d matter, and God, who is good, " and is the author of that which is best."

The Pythagoreans speak ofevery thing as adapted to Iiarr.'.oinccl ?iumbcrs, and on this subject Timoeus goes into many particulars, which it would be te- dious to recite. " Of these," however, he says " the soul oi the world is constituted. Life," he says, " supports the body, and the cause of this is " the soul [iljv^ci). Harmony supports the world, *' and the cause {aili^ ) of this is God." Frag- menta.

" God," he says, " placed the soul of the world " in its center, and also produced it externally," probabl}' meaning that, though seated in the center, its operation goes beyond it.

The world is not the only inferior deity in this system. " In every part of the world," says Ocel- lus

©F PYTHAGORAS. 37

Jus Lucanus (cap. 3.) " there are inhabitants of a jiature proper to it, as gods in the heavens, men up- on the earth, in tlie higher regions demons, and of course the race of man must always continue.

Matter these philosophers seem to have consider- ed as having always existed, independently of the deity, and as having been subject to law^ v/hich he could not wholly control. " Whence," Tim oeus says, though with some degree of obscurity. ■^^ There are two causes of all tilings, mind of tliose *' things which are produced with reason, and nc- ^- c^^^//)' of those which exist by a kind of force., *' according to the powers and properties of body." They, therefore, did not ^rant any other cause of igyil besides matter.

Section III.

Of the Human Soul.

According to these Pj^thagoreans, the hummi soiJj. is not of a nature so distinct fi'om the body, but that it has bodi some connection with it, and some properties iiat common with it. " The source of ** vice," says Timceus, is in pleasure and grief,

C 3. " desii-c

58 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

*' desire and fear, ■which being excited in the bo-" *' dy, get mixed with the soul, and have obtained *' vaiioiis names from their various effects, as love, ** desire," &c. so that the passions are common to the soul and the bod\^, though they are first excited in the latter.

They maintained, how ever, the superiority of the mind to the body as when Archytas (Gale's, Op. my'h. p. 732.) says, "In all human thingsMiSr " Jem is most excellent, as the sight is more so '' than the other senses, the mind {yovg) than the soul *' (ij^u^a) and the sun than the stars." Here we have two parts of the soul, or of the man, dis- tinguished by their respective names, the former, signifying the seat of intelligence, and the other that of mere animal life,

Timoeus explains this division of the soul far- ther wl-ien he says, " One part of the human soul is *^- endued with reason and intelligence, but the o- *' ther is without reason, and stupid. The former " is the more excellent, but both hiwc thqir seat a- *' bout the head, tliat the odicr paits of the soul, " and of the body too, might be subservient to it, *' as being under the same tabernacle of the body. [[ But that part of the scui which is ^thout reason,

and

(C

f>r fYTHAGORAS. 59

^' and which is prone to anger, has its s'eat about " the heart ; and that which has concupiscence *' has its seat about tlie liver. But the brain is the principle, and root, of the spinal maiTow ; ai>d in it the soul has the seat of its government.,' (Gale's, opus, mytli. p. 556. 557.)

Theag^es divides the soul in the same manner„ '■'' One of thepaits," he says, *' lias reason, another '' anger, and the third desire. The virtue of pru- *' dence," he says, " belongs to the first part, for- titude to the second, and temperance to the third, c'nd justice is the virtue of the whole soul,'? (Ibid. p. 688.)

How much mere simple and satisfactory is the short account that Moses gives of tlie formation and constituent principles of man. After giving an ac- count of the formation of all other animals, he says that in the last place, God made man of the dust of ihe ground, and then breathed into him the breath of life, after which he was a living soul, or being ; that is, after the ?nan was completely made, with all his powers, those of the mind, as M^eil as those of the body, God enabled him to hreatli, by which all his powers were excited, and brought into actual exercise. Nothing is here said of any division of

C4^ tfef

40 OT THE TKILOSOPKY

the principle of life, but he adds, that man wai made in the likeness of God^ meaning probably hav- ing capacity of knowing, and of having intercourse with him, which other animals have not ; and that he gan^e him dominion cuer all the other animals^ properties \a hich he has, and fully exercises.

llie account given by these P}'thagoreans of the state of the soul after death, is still more unsatisfactory and inconsistent. According to the golden verses, . the soul is immortal. " If," says the author (v. 70.) " v/hen ^^ou have left the bodv, ^'ou arrive at the *' free etiier, you will be m ith the incorruptible " immortal gods, and be no longer mortal." Tim- ceus gives the following more detailed account of the power of man to attain this state, as \vell as of the punishment of those whose vices disqualify them for it } but it is with a sufficient intimation, that he considered it as founded on mere fable, calculated for the use of the vulgar, and by no means agreea- ble to truth , so that it is probable that at this time the Pythagoreans had w holly abandoned all belief in a future state, "Music," he says, "and the " directrix of it philosophy, are adapted by God, " and the laws, for the improvement of the mind, " and they accustom, persuade, and compel, that

part of the soul which lias no reason to be gentle,

free

OF PYTHAGORAS. 41

" fi-ee from aiigcr, and desire Science,

*' and antient and ^'enerable philosophy, fiee the " mindfi'om false and vain opinions, and great ig- *' norance, and raise it to the contemplation of hea- *' venly tilings, in the knowledge of which, if a man " so conduct himself as to be content widi his lot, *' and with the accidents of life, and thus aspire af- *' ter a moderate and temperate life, he is in the " way to true felicity. And certainly he to ^thom *' God has given this lot is led by tlie truest opini- "onstothe most happy life. But if on the other " hand any be refractor}-, and will not obey these *' sacred precepts, he will be amenable to these ** laws which denounce both celestial and infernal " punishments. Unrelenting punishments avv-ait " the unhappy manes, and other things mentioned '' by the Ionic poet, as derived from tradition, by " the hearing of vrhich he wished to draw the minds " of men to religion and purity. On this account '■'■ I approve of his conduct. As we cure diseased *' bodies by unwholesome medicines if they will not *^ yield to those that are wholesome, so we rcstiain ^' minds with deceitful discourses, if they will not *' yield to true ones. On this account, too, fo- *' reign punishments are denounced," (that is>

C 5, such

42 wr THE PHILOSOPHY

such as were belieAcd by foreign nations,) " as the *' ti-ansmigrations of souls into various bodies, " viz. those of the idle into the bodies of womeni ^' murderers into those of wild beasts, of the libidi- " nous into those of hogs or bears, of the light and " rash into fowls, of the idle and foohsh into aqua^ ^' tic animals" (Gale's, Op. Myth. p. 565. 566.) &c. Certainly the man who could write this could have no belief of any future punishment of the wicked, whatever he might think of the state of th^ virtuous after death.

But when the question 'vohat is death was put to Secundus, his answer is decisively against any fu-. ture state at all. " It is," he says, •' an eternal " sleep, the dread of the rich, the desire of the poor, *' the inevitable event, the robber of man, the flight " of life, ai%d die dissolution of all things." (Gale's, Op. Myth p. 641.) Such were the comfortless prospects of this philosophy in its most advanced state. What a ^vretched choice \\^ould a cliiistian make by exchanging his religion for tliis.

S^.CTI-

OF fYTHAGORAS. 45

Section IV. Of Good and EvU, Virtue and V"ice»

The writings of the Pythagoreans contain num- berless excellent moral maxims and precepts, ex- pressed in the most forcible language, aiid their ac- count of what is good is agreeable to common sense, which we shall see was not the case with many of the philosophers who came after them.

" Some goods," says Archytas, " are desired ** on their own account, some on the account of o- *' ther things, and a third both for their o\mi sake*, ** and that of other things. What then is that *' good which is desired on its own account, and " not for the sake of any thing else ? It is happi- *' ness. For the sake of this we desire every thing *' else, but this for the sake of nothing farther. *' (Gale's, Op. Myth. p. 674.) A gooditban is not "immediately and necessarily happy, but a happy *' man must be good. You must not," says De- mophilus, " hastily pronounce that man happy " who depends upon any thing that is hable to *' change and decay, but on himself, and on God. ^' This only is firm and stable." (lb. p. 624.)

There

i(.

i(

44 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

There v/at> a great degree of austerity in the dis- cipline, and general maxims of the Pythap-oreans, which forbade all iinnecessan- gratifications. With rcopect to the commerce of the sexes, Ocellus Lii- canus, (Ch. 4. Gale's Op. Myth. 531.) says, *' God gave proper instruments, and appetites, to men not fortlie sake of pleasure, but for tlrie propagation " of the species. Ifdiere beany commerce with *' ^vomen v.ith any other view, the offspring will be ^' the bane of society\ They will be Vvicked and *' miserable, liateful to God, to demons, and to ** men, and also to families and states. For this *^ reason," he adds, " laws v/ere made in Greece *' that men should have no commerce with their *' own mothers, daughters, or sisters, nor in any " sacred place, or in public." He also says that *^ all commerce <:ontrary to nature" by which he no doubt meant sodomy, *' must be prevented."

Many of the Sentences ofDcmophilus breathe such a spirit of devotion, that they are justly sus- pected of a purer source than any heathen philoso- phy. On this account I shall quote but few of them. " Do not ask of God what 3^ou cannot *' keep ; for no gift of God can be taken from you. *' He, dierefore, will not gi\'e what you cannot

" keep.

OF PYTHAG-{)Ril&. 45

"keep Nb gift of God is greater thaixvir-

"ttie A frugal and poor philosoplier lives a

*' life like to that of God, and l"ke considers it as the *' greatest wealth, that he possesses nothing exter- *' nal (that is out of his control) nothing unneces- *' saiy. For the acquisition of riches mSames cc- *' vetousnv^ss, but to live well and happily nothing

"is requisite but to act justly Being bom

*' of God, and having our root in him, we should *' adhere to it. For springs of v/ater, and the pro-

*' ductions of the earth, dry up, or putrefy, when

" cut off from their respective sources

*' It is impossible that the same person should be " addicted to pleasure, or the acquisition of riches, " and be devoted to God. And thouo-h he should " sacrifice hecatombs, he is the more impious, and " failher removed from religion and God." (Gale's, Op. Myth. p. 620, 625.)

But what are the best maxims^ precepts, or e- ven laws, without proper sanctions '? They will be admred, and respected, by those ^\ ho are previous- ly disposed to observe them ; but, on others, which is the thing principally to be aimed at, tliey will ha\'e no effect whatever ; but may even be ridicul- ed, and opehly disregarded. And \\ hat are the pro- per sanctions of virtue and piety, ^vhich evidently

46 or tHK PHILOSOPHY, Scc7

not always any reward in this life, but that provi- dence of God which extends to another^ and with this the Pythagorean philosophy was not pro- vided.

SOCRATES

47

SOCRATES AND JESUS

COMPARED.

► I •iU* ! ! ^^ > I -vK* I *

INTRODUCTION'.

X HE history of Socrates is so singular a pheno- menon in the heathen world, and his general beha- wour, and the manner of life to which he devoted himself, have in them so much that resemble those of the ancient prophets, and even of our Saviour, that they have alwaj^s drawn the particular attenti- on of the friends of divine revelation , though these have formed very different opinions on the subject.

If we look into any account of the Grecian phi- losophers who preceded Socrates, or who followed him (and some of tlie most eminent of the latter were his professed disciples) we shdl find none of them to resemble him, even in the general features- of his conduct, diough his education as a philoso- pher was in all respects the same with tlieirs ; and they all fell far short of him with respect to purity of moral chaiacter.

If we majp depend upon what is transmitted to

us

48 SbCRATES A^JB

US concerning him by Xenophon and Plato, who were his cotcmporaries and disciples, both men of great eminence, (and there were no writers in the heatlien world Avhose characters stand higher than theirs) he was a very extraordinary man with re- spect both to wisdom and viRtue. And as Socrates had enemies as well as friends, and his accusers must have had their friends too, had the accounts of Xenophon or Plato not been in the main agreea- ble to truth, it would have been in our power, (as the age abounded with writers) to perceive some ti-ace of their objections. But nothing of this kind appears.

From both these accounts Ave must conclude that Socrates was a man who, from early life, not only abstained fiom vice himself: and practised e- ver}' thing that he thought to be a virtue, but one who devoted himself to the promoting of virtue in others ; continually throwing himself in the way of every person whom he thought he could benefit by his exhortations or instructions; tliat by this means a considerable number of young men, espe- cially those of the best families, of much consider- tionand wealth, in the city of Athens, were strong- ly attached to him ; and yet, that though he was

poor

«

JESUS COMPARED 4,9

poor, and many of them were rich, he never accept- ed of any reward for his instructions.

In his conduct as a citizen he was most uncor- nipt and feai-less, risking his popularity, and even his hfe, rather than consent to any tiling that ap- peai'ed to him unjust. When he was falsely ac- cused he behaved with the greatest magnanimity at his ti'ial, and when sentence of death was passed up- on him he yielded to it with the greatest calmness. He refused to solicit for any abatement of the sen- tence as a favour, and declined all the offers of his friends to assist him in an escape from prison. When the fatal cup was brought to him, he drank it with tlie greatest readiness and composure, and died with much apparent satisfaction.

The sentiments and principles of such a man as this, who lived in the most polished city of Greece, at a period the most distinguished for every thing that can contribute to fame, in arts, science, or po- licy, and yet die most addicted to idolatiy of any city in Greece, certainly deserves to be investiga- ted, and his conduct to be scrutinized ; and this I shall endeavour to do in the best manner that the materials we are furnished with w ill enable me.

D.

1

50 SOCRATES AiS'i>

Section I.

Of the Polytheism and Idolatry of Socrates.

That Socrates was an idolater, or a \\'orshipper of a multiplicity of Gods, and such as were ac- knowledged by his countrymen, and tliat he con- formed in all respects to the popular modes of wor- ship, cannot be denied. " He sacrificed, says Xe- " nophon, (p. 2.) both on the public altars of the fci- *'' ty, and often at his o\\ti house ; and he also prac- ticed divination in the most public manner." On trial he said, (p. 377.) "he had never sacrificed to, oracknow^ledged, or sworn by, or even made *' mention of, any gods but Jupiter, Juno, and o- " thers that were received by his fellow citizens. "Do not I believe," says he, (p. 3.) "tliatthe "sun, and the moon, are gods as well as others ?" " Do we not suppose demons" (and one of these he acknowledged to have given particular attention to him) " to be either gods, or the sons of gods," i (p. 21.) And in his last moments, after he had drunk the poison, recollecting a vow that he had made to sacrifice a cockto/Tisculapius, he desired Crito, a pupil and pailicular friend of his, to dis- charge

iti

a

JESUS COMPARED 51

charge it for him, and begged that he would not neglect to do it, (p. 186.) Though on one occa- sion he speaks of o?ie God that constructed and pre- serves the world, (p. 318.) he does not say that he was the only God.

All heathens and idolaters, civilized or unci\'ili- zed, were addicted to divination , imagining that by this means they could piy into futurity, and find out what their gods signified by certain signs, as the flijjht of birds, the form of the livers of the ani- mals they sacrificed, and many other things, which are generally considered as accidents. Socrates was so fai' from seeing the folly of these obser\an- ces, that he was to an immoderate degree assidu- ous in his attention to them. Being of opinion, (p. 8.) that " the gods signified their will by divina- " tion to those whom they m ere disposed to fa- " vour." Whenever he vras in doubt about anv thing of importance, he sent some of his friends to consult the oracle (p. 5.) and he advised his friends, if they had occasion for the knowledge of any thing that they could not attain to themselves, to apply to the gods in the modes of divination, (p. 352 ;) Say- ing, that " they who vv^ould regulate either dieir " own affl\irs, or those of the state, stood in need oi' " these practices." (p. 5.)

D2. B

CSKIC

^i(-< ^

a2 SOCRATES AND-

Besides kiving recourse to the usual modes of divination, Socrates believed that, upon every oc- casion of importance, the will of the gods was signi- fied to himself in particular, but in what manner he does not clearly say^ He sometimes calls it a voice (ck-jvK/) p. 28. At his trial lie said he had of- iQY\ been heiuxl to say that a divine voice was fre- quently present with him.

Not^^'ithstanding• all this evidence of the polythe- istic sentiments, and coiTcsponding practice, of So- crates, Rollin and others suppose liira to have been a believer in the dh'me unity ^ and to have been sen- sible of the absurdity and folly of all the popular superstitions, and of the popular worship of his ceimtrj^ But I am far from seeing any suffici- ent evidence of this. If he had had tlie weakness, which hovrever is never ascribed to him, to conceal this before his judges, he might have avowed it be- fore his death, bearing a dying and most honoura- ble testimony to important truth; whereas, on botli these occasions, his language and conduct were the very reverse of what, on the supposition of this superior knowledge, they ought to have been. Indeed I much question whether any per- son educated as Socrates was, among polytheists

and

JESUS COMPARED. 53

and idolaters, could possiljly, by the mere light oi'' nature, have attained to a firm belief of the divine u. nity, though he might in some degree have been sensible of the folly and absurdity of the prevailing Siuperstitions.

Section II.

The Sentiments of Socrates concerning tlie Gods, and their Promdeiice,

A polytheist and idolater as Socrates v;2i% heliad just and honourable sentiments concerning the di- vine power and providence, and of the obedience that men owe to the srods. And thou oh his ideas on these subjects are far shoit of u hat mc find in the Psalms of David, and the writings of the He- brew prophets, they are much more rational and sublime than the opinions of the heathens in p-ene- ral, or those of the philosophers that followed him.

We have seen that Socrates ascribed to a god the formation and government of the world, ^vhere- as, according to Hesiod (whose thcogony i^as, no doubt, that ^vhich was generally received by the Greeks) the world had been from, etei-nity, and the origin of the gods was subsequent to it. Socrates

D 3. point

54 SOCRATES AND

points cut in particular the wisdom and goodness of providence in the disposition of the different sen- ses and the several parts of the human body, as that of the eyes, the eye-lashes, and eye-lids ; and in the structure of the teeth, which in the different animals are shaped and situated in the most conve- nient manner, the best adapted to their respective uses (p. 62.) He had, no doubt, the same opinion of the wisdom and goodness displa}-ed in the structure and disposition of eveiy thing else in nature.

He, moreover, believed that the gods know eve- ry thing that is not only said or done, but that is even thought and intended, though ever so private- ly ; being present in all places ; so that, whenever they think proper, they can give intimations to man of every thing relating to them, (p. 14.). "The •' deity" {ToB.ioy)hc sp^ys, (p. 65.) " sees and hears •' all things, is every where present, and takes care " of all things." And he makes this obvious and practical use of the doctrine, viz. that "if men be- " lievcd it, they would abstain from all base acti- " ons even in private, persuaded that nothing that *' they did was unknown to the gods." (p. 70.)

The gods, he also thought, know every thing that is future, though they conceal the knowledge of those things from men in general ; so that,

" though

JESUS COMPARED. $J

*' though a man built a house, he could not be cer- *^ tarn that he should inhabit it, nor could a general *' be sure whether it would be proper for him to " march his army, &c." (p. 6.) Agreeably to this, it was his custom, in his prayer to the gods, to re- quest that they ^^■ould grant him A\hat was good, withont Specifying w hat he wished for ; since they best knew what was so. (p. 45.) Like the hear thens in general, he considered lightning as com, ing more immediately from the gods, as one mode of giving intimations to men. (p. 312.)

According to Socrates, it is the gods that have made the distinction between men and the inferior animals, having given them rational souls, so that they only know- that tliere are gods, and can vror- ship them. " There is no such principle and ex- " cellent quality," he said " in the brutes ; and in " consequence of this superiority, men are like *' gods with respect to other animals," (p. 66.)

Speaking of the goodness of the gods to man, he says, (p. 306.) " they supply us not onl}-- with ne- .*' cessaries, Iwt with things that are adapted to give "us pleasuae. ' ' He mentions particu lai-Iy as their gifts, water and fire, the grateful and useful change 9fthe seasons, and our vai*ious senses, adapted to

D 4, peculiai*

56 SOCRATES ANP

peculiai- species of good. " This," he says, (p. 310.) *' shews their concern for us."

Socrates considered all unwritten laws, obligato- TY on man in society, the origin of which cannot be traced, as having the gods for their authors. A- mong these he mentions the universal maxim, that the gods ought to be worshipped, (p. 327.) that gratitude is due to benefactors, that parents ought not to have sexual commerce with tlieir children,

and all other universally acknowledged principles ofmorality.

In answer to the objection from our not seeing the gods, he mentions several things in nature, the existence and powders of which cannot be denied, and which arc invisible or inscrutable by us, as lightning, tlie wind, and the intellectual powers of man; " Thus," says he, (p. 313.) " when we sec .*' the' powers of the gods, we must reverence them, " though we do not see them."

Nothing can exceed the respect that Socrates en- tertained for the authority and will of the gods, whenever, and in whatever manner, it was made kno\\Ti. "If," says he, (p. 51.) '' the gods signi- " fy their will, we must no more depart from it, " and take other counsel, than we should prefer the *' conduct of a blind man, who did not know the

*' road,

JESL'S COMPARED. 57

•* road, to that of one who saw it and knew it ; al- *' ways prefering the direction of the gods, to tliat " of men."

Agreeable to this, when he was addressing his judges, he said, (p. 40.) that "if they would acquit ^* him on condition diat he would discontinue his *' instructions to young persons, which he belicv- " edthe gods had enjoined him, or suffer death, he " would answer that he must obey god rather than " man ; and that if they should banish him to any *' other country, he should think it his duty, to do '^ there what he had done kt Athens."" (p. 40.) *' Whatever be the situation in which a man is plac- *' ed, there, he said, he should remain at any risk, *' even of life, (p. 23.) dreading baseness more than any thing else. So the gods having, as, I believe, placed me where I Iyavq been, and order- ed me to remain philosophizing, and scrutinizing " myself and others, I must not desert tliat station, *' for fear of death, or any thing else, "

When Aristodemus, Vvith Avhom he -was dis- coursing on this subject, said that he did not deny that that there were gods, but he thought they \^^ere too great to stand in need of his worship, Socrates replied, (p. 64.) that the greater they were, the more they were to be honoured.

D 5. As

a

SB. SOCRATES AND

As to the manner in which the gods were to hf iionoured, he, Uke other heathens, thought it AA^as to be deteiTtiined by the laws of every particular coun- try. But he justly thought that tiie satisfaction the gods received from these marks of respect did not depend upon the costliness of the sacrifice. " The offering of a poor man," he said, (p. 49.) *' isas acceptable to the gods, as the more expen^ *' sive ones of the rich."

Section III. Of the excellent ?7wral Character of Socrates.

These, it cannot be denied, are excellent senti- ments, and much to be admired, considering the little light that Socrates had, viz. that of nature only, uninstructed by any revalation. And with liim these sentiments were not merely speculative. His whole life seems to have been strictly conform- able to them, being eminently virtuous, and whol- ly dev-oted to the service of his fellow citizens.

Xenophon, who knew him well (diough, hav- ing been his pupil, we may suppose him to hu\-t been prejudiced in his favour) gives the following general account of his character and conduct, (p.

3S9.)

, JESUS COMPARFD. 59

359.) *' He was so religious that he did nothing *' without the advice of the gods. He was so "just, that he never injured any person in the " smallest matter, but rendered every service in *' his power to those with Avhom he had any con- *' nection. He was so temperate that he never " preferred what was grateful to what was useful. " He was so prudent, that he never mistook the ** the worse for the better ; nor did he a\ ant the " advice of others, but always judged for himself. " In his conversation, he excelled in defining what *' was right, and in shewing it to otliers, reprov- " ing the vicious, and exhorting to the practice

" of virtue."

Though the circumstances of Socrates were the reverse of affluent, he would ne-ier receive any gratuity for the lessons that he gave, as all other philosophers and public teachers did ; and by this means, as he said, (p. 74.) he preseiTcd his free- dom and independence. When upon his trial he was urged by his friends to supplicate the judges, as was the universal custom, in order to move their compassion, he refused to ask any favour even of them ; being of opinion that this was. contrary to the laws, according to which, and not according to fawiiry judges ought to decide, (p. 317.)

In

60 SOCRATES ANS

In all the changes in the political state of the tur- bulent city of Athens, v.^hich were many in the time of Socrates, he adliered inflexibly to vhat he thought to be just, without being influenced by- hope or fear. This was particularly conspicuous on two occasions. The first was when, being one of the judges in the case of the ten generals who were tiied for their lives on account of their not col- lecting and burying the dead after a naval engage- ment, and all the rest (influenced, no doubt, by the popular clamour against them) condemned them to di £, he alone refused to concur in the sen- tence. Soon after the citizens in general, convin- ced of the injustice of the sentence, though after it had been cairied into execution, approved of his conduct. The other was during the government of the thirty tyrants, A\hen, though in manifest danger of his life, he refused to approve of their measures; and he escaped by nothing but their o- verthrow, and the cit}' recovering its liberty.

That Socrates at the close of life expressed his satisfaction in his own conduct cannot be thought extraordinary. It was, he observed, (p. 366.) in concurrence with the general opinion of his coun- trymen, and with a declaration of the oracle at Delphi in his favour. For when it was consulted

by

jSStrS COMPARED. 61

by Chssrephon, one of his disciples, the answer was, that there was no person more honorable {sKivBepoTspov) more just, or more wise * than he. (p. 371.)

He put, however, a very modest construction on this oracle ; which was that, though he knew no more than other men, he did not, like diem, pretend to kno^v more. (p. 9. 12.) so that he only knew himself, and his own ignorance, better than odier men. His reputation in consequence of it, and of his conduct in general, had no other than the happiest influence upon him. For, address- ing his judges (p. 34.) he observed, that " it be- " ing a generally received opinion, that he was wi-

" ser than other men," he said that " whether that " opinion was well founded or not, he thought he " ought not to demean himself Ijy an)- un^vorthy ** action."

Notwidistanding Socrates's consciousness of in- tegrity, and general merit, and die good opinion of the wise and virtuous, he ^vas so sensible of the

mahce

* In Xenophon the response of the oracle is ex- pressed by <roc(ppcvssup^, but Plato always uses the word (ro(puiJsp^. Cicero m referring to it tts^ es the word sapientissimus.

62 SOCRATiS AND

malice of bis enemies, that when he was brought before his judges he had no expectation of being acquitted, and therefore he expressed his surprize when he found that he was condemned by a majo- rity of no more than three votes, (p. 36.) out of

500.*

It being customaiy at Athens, when any person was found guilty of the chai'ge brought against him? to require him to say what, in his own opinion^ his punishment should be ; and this question be- ing proposed to Socrates, conscious as he was of no demerit, but on the contrary of his valuable, services to his country ; he said that, since he had made no gain by Ms profession of public instruc- tor, had never held any lucrative office in die state, and he was poor, he was, like other persons in a similar situation, and with similai* claims, enti- tled to a maintenance at the public expense in the Prytaneum, (p. 37.) If they destroyed him, he farther said, they would not soon find another like

him, (p. 27.) This has the appearance of vanity and ostentation. But if the praising a man's self be at all justifiable, it is on such an occasion as

this,

* Thisy exchishe of the president^ Rollin suppo- ses to hai}e been the number of the judges.

JESUS COMPARED-. 6S

this, when he is unjustly censured and condemn- ed by odiers.

Sectiox IV-

The Imperfection of Socrates'' s Ideas concerning Piety, and Virtue i?i generaL

Just and sublime as were the sentiments that Socrates professed concerning the power and pro- vidence of the gods, and of the obligation that men are under to reverence and worship them, his ideas of the manner m which this was to be done '^vere by no means such as might have been expected in consequence of them. According to him, all the duties that properly rank under the head o^ piety ai-e the observance of the religious rites of the countries in which men live. " The gods, he, " says, (p. 338.) ai'e not to be honoured by eveiy " man as he pleases, but as the laws direct." This was agreeable to the answer received from Delphi, when inquiiy was made concerning tlie manner in which men should please the gods ; for the answer returned was, " by complying with the " institutions of our country," (p. 313.) After "mentioning this, Socrates added, that "all states

had

64 SOCr.ATES AND

" had decreed that the " gods are to be placated " by sacrifices, according to the faculties of each " of them." (p. 314.)

1^ ovv, what the rites of the heathen religion were, those of Athens by no means excepted, is well known. Little did they accord with any just sen- timents of ^v hat we now deem to be piety, i. e. a reverence for the perfections and providence of God, gratitude for his favours, submission to his will, in a strict obedience to the moral precepts he has en- joined, and confidence in his protection and favour in consequence of it. With these sentiments sa- crifices, and the other rites of the heathen religi- ons, had no connection whatever. Rather, they were the occasion, and provocatives, of licenti- ousness, and lewdness, as must have been well known to Socrates himself.

The moral maxims of Socrates, independent of those rckituig to religion, are admirable, e- specially his saying, (p. 83.) that " there is no "better way to true glory than to endeavour to " be good rather than seem to be so." But his general rule concerning the nature of justice, in which he probably included virtue in general, was that, '* whatever is lawful,''' or agreeable to the laws, "is just," (p. 321. 326.) whereas, nothing

can

JESUS COMPARED. 65

can be more vai-iable than the laws of particular states, or more discordant witli one another.

With respect to the subjects of religion and mor- als in general, Socrates always professed a greater regard to the la^vs than reason or good sense will ustify, though he might be induced to say more on this subject in consequence of his being accus, ed of being no friend to the popular religion, and of corrupting youth h}^ attaching them to himself, to the neglect of their parents and others. And it is very possible that, in some of his instructions he had inculcated duties of a purer and higher kind than the institutions of his country would encou- rage or authorize. Such, however, miMit be ex. pected from the sentimrnts he generally exoressed.

Considering the wretched philosophy of the So- phists, whose ostentation, and absurdities, Socrates exposed, vye shall not wonder at the ad\'ice he gav^e his hearers with respect to the principal object of their pretendeql science. He recommended to them the stu(Jy of Geography, Astronomy, and the scien- ces in general, only so far as tliey were of practi- caluse in life, (p. 350,) but he particularly dissuad- ed them from the study of t/ie st?-ucture of the iinl- 'i^frse^ because, he said, " it w^s not designed to be

E. " discovered

66 SOCRATES AIvD

" discovered by man, nor could it be agi^ecable tor *' the gods to have that iiiqiiired into which they *' did not make known to num." For nothing could be more presumptuous than the manner in ■^\hich those So^;>hist^, and the philosophers oftliose times in g-en'eral, decided concerning this great subject; and with them it led to notliing of any real ^'akle with respect to men's conduct, but puff^ fd them up v. ith conceit, without any foundation of real knowledge. On this account he is said by Seneca to have reduced all philosophy to morals. TotaniphUosophiam reiyoamit ad JuoreSy Epist. 71.

But could Socrates have seen the progress that a truer philosophy than any tliat existed in his time has now made, and how directly it leads to the most

profound admiration of the works and providence of God, unfolding the wisdom, power, and good- ness of the great creator^ and had he seen the con- nection which this reverence for God, and conse- quently for his laws, has (on the system of revela- tion) with moral virtue, he would have been the first to lay stress upon it, and to inculcate it upon. his pupils.

As the laws of his country, which witli Socrates were too much the standard of right, with respect

both

JESUS COMPARED. 67

both to religion and morals, ^\'ere veiy imperfect on many subjects, we do not ^vonder that he did not express a sufficient indignation (such as tliose do who are acquainted with the purer and more severe precepts o"^ revealed religion relating to them) at some particulai' vices, especially sodomy, which die laws of God by Moses justly punished with death.

When Critias, then his pupil, was in love with Euthydemus, and avowedly, as it should seem, for the vilest purpose, he dissuaded him from pursuing his object ; but only as a thing that was illiberal, unbecoming a man of honour and delicacy. " It *' was" he said " begging of the object of his pas- " sion like a pauper, and for a thing that would do " him no good," (p. 29.) The gradfication of this passion he said, resembled a hog rubbing, himself against a stone, (p. 30.) 'This, no doubt, shews a contempt hr this vice, but no su^cient abhorrence of it, as such a degradation of human nature ought to excite. When another of his pupils gave a kiss to a son of Alcibiades, who was very beautiful, he only asked whether it did not require great bold- ness to do it; meaning that, after this, it would not be easy to refrain from endeavouring to take great-

E2. er

iJBR

6<5 SOCRATES AKO

er liberties with him. There is too much of pleas- antry, and too little of seriousness, in this method of considering the subject.

A similar remark may be made on the interview that Socrates had with a celebrated courtesan of the- name of Thcodota, whom he had tlie curiosity to Visit on account of what he had lieard of lier extra- ordinary beauty and elerantform, so that statuaries

applied to her to take models from her ; and to whom the historian says she exhibited lier person as much as decency would permit. In this situa- tion Soci-ates and his pupils found her j but in the conversation that he had with her he discovered no just sense of the impropriety of her life and profes-* sion. She spake to him of her galants as her friends, who contributed to her support without kbour, and hoped that by his recommendation she should procure more ; adding, " How shall I persuade " you to this." He replies, " This you must find •' out yourself, and consider in what way it may be " in my power to be of use to you/' And when she desired him to come often to see her, he only jestingly said, that he was not sufficiently at leisure from otlier engagements, (p. 251.) Ready as So- crates was to give good advice to young men, he

said

JBSOrs COMPARED. 69

said nothing toiler to rccommend a more viitiioiis and reputable course of life than tliat which he knew she led.

It was not in this manner that Jesus and his a- postles would have conversed with such a person- He did not decline all intercourse with Vvomen of her character, but it was not at their houses ; and what he said was intended to instruct and reclaim them. He considered them as the sick^ and him- self as the physician.

Women of the profession of this Theodota, if they had been w^ell educated, were resorted to in the most open manner by men of the first character at Athens, as Aspasia by Socrates himself, and by Pericles, who afterwards married her. Nor was fornication in general, with women of that profes- sion, at all disreputai^le, either in Greece, or at Rome,

How much more pure are the morals of christi- anity in this res}>ect. So great, however, was the prevalence of this vice, and so little had it b^een con- sidered as one, in the heathen world, that the apos- fle- Paul, writing to the christian churches in Gixiece, and especially at Corinth, the richest and most voluptuous city in that part of the world, is urgent to dissuade his converts from it. See

E 3. particu-

\

70 SOCRATES AND

particulai-ly (1. Cor. v:i. 9. he.) where among those who would be exchided from the kingdom of heaven, he mentions fornicators in the first place.

Know ye not, that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God. Be not deceived; neither for- nicators^ nor idolaters^ nor adulterers, nor effemi- nate, nor abusers of themsehes ixiith mankind, nor thieves, nor co'vetous, nor drunkards •, nor reuilers, nor extortioners^ shall inherit the kingdfjju of God.

Section V.

Qf Socrates' s Belief in a future State.

Though Socrates had more just ideas concerning tlie nature and character of deity, and also of the nature and obligations of virtue, than the generali- ty of his countrymen, and even of the philosophers, he does not appear to have had any more know- ledge than others concerning the great sanction of virtue, in the doctrine of a future state. In none of his conrersations recorded by Xenophon on the subject of virtue with young men and others, is there the least mention of it, or allusion to it ; which was certainly unavoidable if he had been real-

ly acquainted with it, and believed it.

Speak-

/

JESUS COMPARED. 71

Speaking of tlie happiness of his virtuous pu- pils, he mentions the pleasure the}^ would have in this life, and the respect that vv-^ould be paid to thenii and says that, " ^vhen they died they ux)uld not be *' without honour, consigned to obii^'ion, but '■^ \v0ui4be for ever celebrated, (p, 111.") Hav- ing said this, could he have forborne to add their happier Qpndition after deatli, if he had had any be lief of it?

All his dissuasiv-es from vice are grounded on some natural and necessary inconvenience to which men expose themselves by it in this life, but none of them have any respect to anotlier. Thus he re- presents intemperate persons as slaves to their ap- petites, (p. 322.) and treating of what lie consider- ed as being the laws of nature, and therefore as those of the gods, as the prohibition of miUTiage be- tween parents and their children, (p. 828.) he only says that " the offspring of such a mixture is bad, " one of the pardes being too old to produce " heakliy children ;" and this reason does n.ot ap. ply to the case of brothers and sisters. Another law of nature, he says, is to do good in return for good received ; but die penalty of not doing it he inakes to be nothing more than being deserted by a

E 4, mail's

iJ, SOCRATES AND

man's friends when he will have the most want of tiiem, and to be forced to apply to those who have no friendship for him. (p. 329.)

It is particularly remarkable that nothing that Xenophon says as coming from Socrates, not only in his conversations with his pupils, but even at his trial, and- the scenes before his death, implies a belief of a future state. iVll that we have of this kind is from Plato ; and though he was present at the trial, and therefore what he says is, no doubt, entitled to a considerable degree of credit, it wants the attestation of another imtness ; and tlie wai^it of tliat of Xenophon is something more than nega- the; especially as it is well known that Plato did not scruple to put into the mouth of Socrates lan- guage and sentiments that never fell from hihi , as it is said Socrates himself observed, when he wais shewn the dialogue entitled Lysi'Sy in which he is the principal speaker, as he is in many others.

In Plato's celebrated dialogue mtklcd F hoe do , in which he makes Socrates advance arguments in proof of a future state, we waiit tlie evidence of some person who was present ; for Plato himself was at that time confined by sickness, (P. p.^74.) so tliatit is very possible, as nothing is said of it by

Xeno-

JESUS COMPARED. 70'

Xenophon, that he might not have held any dis- course on the subject at all.

Besides, all that Socrates is represented by Plato to have said on this subject is far from amounting to any thing like certain knowledge^ and real beliefs with respect to it, such as appeals in tlie discourses of Jesus, and the writings of the apostles. Socra- tes, according to Plato, generally speaks of a future state, and the condition of men in it, as the popular beliefs which might be true or false. *' If" says )

he (p. 46) " what is said be true, we shall in ano- ^' ther state die no more. In death " he says to " hisjudges" (p. 44.) " v/e either lose all sense of !

" things, or, as it is said^ go iuto sdme otlier place ; " and if so, it will be much better ; as we shall be *' out of the power of partial judges, and come be- *' fore those that are impartial. Minos, Rhada- \

*' manthus, iEacus, Triptolemus, and others, who " were demigods." Taking his leave of them, he '' says, I must now depart to die, while you conti- *' nue in life ; but which of these is better, the gods \

" only can tell ; for in my opinion no man can \

**' know this."

This certainly implies no faith on which to ^

ground real practice, from Avhich a man could. With the apostle, lli^e as seeing tlimgs hmsible, be-

K 5. iijp^ '

::l ^

V

/

74 SOCRATES AND

ing governed by a regard to them more than to things present, ;he one as certain as the otlier, and infinitely superior in value, t/ie things that are seen being temporary, %vhik t/wse that ore unseen are e- iernal. (2. Cor. iv. 10.)

Notwithstanding this uncertainty of Socrates with respect to a future state, he died with great composure and dignity ; considering his death at that time as, on the wliole, better for him than ro live any longer in die circumstances in which, at his time of hfe (being seventy years old) he must have li^^ed ; especially as a coward, discovering un- manly dread of death, in exile and disgrace ; dy- ing also without torture, surrounded by his friends, and admirers, who would ensure his fame to the latest posterity.

That such arguments in proof of a future state as Plato puts into the mouth of Socrates should really have been advanced, and have have any stress laid upon them, by him, in so serious a time as just be- fore his death, is exceedingly improbable, from the extreme futility of them. They are more like the mere play of imagination, than the deductions of reason.

His first argument is, that as every thing else in

nature has its contrary, death must have it also,

• and

JESUS COMPAREB. 75

and if so, it must be followed by life^ as day follows night, and a state of 'utgilance always follows sleep. (p. 56. )• But might it not be said that, for the same reason, every thing that is bitter must some time ot other become sweety and every thing that is sweet become bitter ?

His second ai-gument is, that all our present ac- quired knowledge is only the recollection of what we knew before in a former state, (p. 100.) But what evidence is there of this ?

His third argument is, that only compound sub- stances are liable to corruption, by a separation of the parts of which they consist ; but the mind is a simple substance, and therefore cannot be affected by the dissolution of the body in death, (p. 111.) This is certainly tlie most plausible aigament of the three, but it is of too subtle a nature to give much satisfaction. If the mind have several pow- ers and affections, and be furnished widi a multi- plicity of ideas, there is the same evidence of its be- ing a compound as there is withrespect to tlie body; and if the power of thinking, or mental action, bear . any resemi)lance to corporeal motion, it may cease, and be suspended, though the sulDstance remain.

Are these sufficient arguments for a man at the

o

point

\

76" • SOCRATES AND

point of death to build his faith aiid hope up an? As this appears to have been all that the most sa- gacious of the heathens could attain to by the hgtit of nature, what reason have we to be thankful for the superior light of revelation, and especially for the gospel, which brmgs life and immortality to light. (2. Tim. i. 10.)

Socrates does not, in this celebt-ated dialogue, make any mention of the argument from the iinU ijersal belief o^ a future state, as handed down by tradition in all nations ; which, though flir short of a proper proof of the doctrine, is more plausible ^ tlian any of the three arguments above mentioned.

i For it might be presumed that the ancestors of the

human race, from whom the tradition descended to tlieir posterity, had some proper evidence of / Tvliat they delivered, though that had not been pre-

served,, the doctrine itself only being retained. This, indeed, seems to have been the case with re- spect to the Jews. Though they were in the time of our Saviour firm believers in the doctrine of a / resurrection, the record of the revelation (for it

could not have com,e from any other source) had been long lost.

How far short is every thing tliat Socrates is re- \ presented as saying of the perfect assurance \vith

\^hich

J£SUS COMPARED

77

which Jesus alwa3-s spoke of his resurrection to an immortal life, aud of the glory tkit was prepared for him in the councils of God from the foundation of the world; when, as the writer of the epistle to the Hebrews says (c. xii. 20.) for the joy Uiat ivas set before hiniy he endured the cross, desphitig the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. How short it foils of the confidence which the apostle Paul, in the near view^ of death, expresses with jnespect to his future prospects, (2. Tim. iv. 70 1 haiic fought the good fght, I have finished my course, I hwue kept th^ faith. Hence- forth there is laid up for me a crown of righteous- ness, which tlie Lord, the righteous judge, will ghe me at that day ; and ?iot to me only, but to all them that love his appearing. With Avhat satisfac- tion and joy have thousands of christian mart}TS relinquished this life in the assurance of a better.

Besides, after all that Socrates advances in proof of a future state, he seems to mak« it the peculiar privilege of those who appl}- to philosophy, wdio have in some degree abstracted the purer mind fromr the gross body by intense meditation, (p. 83.) *' This," he says, (p. 94.) " w^as intended by the ** authors of the mysteries when they said that none " besides the initiatred would live with the gods af-

*'tei'

\

78

S'0C?vATE3 A^fD

/

" ter death ; for that by the initiated were meant ** those \^ho philosophized in aright manner (opBug) " and that whether he had succeeded or not, it had *' been his endeavour through Hfeto do so."

According to this, the great mass of mankind have no more interest in a future state than brute animals. But the gospel makes no dijfference in favour of philosophers, or any other class of men. According to this, all that are in the gra'ues shall hear the 'voice of the son of man, (John. v. 28.) and shall come forth ; they tliat ha've done good to the resurrection of life, and they that have done eml to the resurrection of condemnation. Then too (Rev. XX. 15.) tli^ sea shall gii^e up t/ie dead that is in it, and e^ery man shall be judged according to his 'works.

Section VL

Of the Damon of Socrates.

Much has been advanced on the subject of the daemon, as it is commonly called, of Socrates, or that di'oine voice, as he termed it, which gave him warnings about what he was about to do, if it was

impro-

JESUS COJ/PARED,

79

improper for him, and which was e\idently some- thing different from dhinatloriy to which he often had recoui-se, or from any casual omen that might occur to him. This he said had accompanied him from his youth ; but though it forbad him to do certain things Uiat he was dehbcrating about, it had never prompted him to any particular action, fib. J This divine voice did not respect his own coiiduct only, but sometimes that of others ; and he declar- ed that whenever he had, from this warning, signi- fied the w ill of the gods to any of his friends, he had never been deceived by it. (p. 370.)

Speaking of his general manner of life, and plan of conduct, in devoting his time and talents to the instruction of others, he said, (p. 32.) it had been enjoined him " by the gods, by oracles, by tlic " god" (probably meaning that particulai' deity from whom he had the hints above mentioned) " by " dreams, and every other mode in which, by di- " vination, they order things to be done." This was said by him in his address to his judges ; and he added that, though the deity had checked him in the smallest things that he was about to do, if they were improper (p. 44. ) yet that when he was thinking of his defence, the deity had thus forbidden

him.

<

/

€0 SOCKATES AND

him to make an}-, and this not only once, but twice, (p. 365.) nor, while he was then speaking

) did he perceive any check with respect to any part

of his conduct, (p. 44.) He therefore concluded that, since this divine voice had not interfered on this occasion, it was best for him to await the sen- tence of his judges, though they should condemn him to death. " The situation I am now in," he said, "did not come to me by chance; for no- j *' thing can happen amiss to a good man with re-

" spect to life or death; since the gods never ne- *' gleet him. It is, therefore, better for me to die '' now, and to be exempt from all farther labours." (p. 47.)

These intimations, in whatever manner they were communicated, are now, I believe, generally

/ thought to have been a mere illusion, when n^.thing

really supernatural took place. Had these sugges- tions occurred only once or twice m the co.ur$e of his life, the hypothesis oftheir being an illusion, or

/ mere imagination, might have been admitted. But

/ they had attended him, he said, from his youth, and

had given him hints not only respecting his own conduch (which by his account had been Vjpry fi-e- qiient)but sometim^is tliat oftusljiiei>dsj jand be- cause ha had received no check from tliis quarter"

^vith

JESUS COMPARED. 81

ivith respect to his conduct at his trial, he conckid- ed with certainty that it was right, and would have the best issue.

Besides the admonitions of this kind which were eotnmunieated while he wds awake, he had otliets fe says, given him in dreams. One of these he mentioned just before his death ; which was that he should app!y to mUsic On this he had put va- rious cbnstructions ; and lest he should not have Eit upon the true meaning of it, he composed while Re W2i& m prison, a hymn in praise of Apollo, and tiirhed soife€ of the fables of ^'Esop into verse, Vrhieh wef€ always rfecited in a musical recitative.

Cp. 77.)

This might have been nothing more than a com- mon dream., Oti which he put an uncommon con- struction, in consequence of imagining that there was something supernatural in it. Rut tliis could not have been the case with res{)ect to the hints that he received when he was awake, whether bv the raedrum of a real voice, or in any other way.

In no other respect does Socrates appear to haA^e fe^a an ettthusiast. On the contrar\% he was a iftarief a cairit a?id eveh temper, not distinguished by ittf peeiilkrity of behatiour, or extravagance of any Istid. And though he seems t^ have addres.

F. se4

I

B2 SOCRATES AND

sed himself to every person to whoin he imagined Uiat his advice would be useful, lie was never charg- ed with being impertinent, so as to give offence to any. On the contrary, his address was insinuating i-nd pleasing ; so that his hearers in general were delighted w'l h his conversation, and this tlirougl the coarse of a long life.

Since, then, he persisted in his account of these adr^onitions to the last, and in the most serious sit- uation that a man could be in, and his veracity was never questioned, though I am far from forming any fuitd opinion on a subject of so great obscuri- ty, I think it may admit of a doubt, whether they may not be supposed to have come, in whatever manner they were given, from God. I do not see any thing unworthy of the Divine Geing in his dis- tinguishing tliis extraordinary man in this way. Being no judge of the propriety of the divine con- duct, we must be determined in every case of this kind by the evidence of facts, according to the esta- blished rules of estimating tlie value of testimony in general*

These admonitions aiesaid to have been proper

to tl.e occasions on which they were delivered ; so

that leading to good, if they came from any superi-

[ or being, it must have been a wise and benevolent

one,

JESUS COMPARED 83

one. They would, therefore, tend to impress the mind of Socrates, and those of his numerous disci- ples and admirers, with an idea of the existence of a power superior to man, though not in a manner so decisive and convincin-^ as the expre'ss revelations that were made to the Hebrew prophets. But ^\ hy it should please God to distinguish any one man, or any particulai' nation, with his peculiar gifts, and in what degree he should do this, is not for us to say. If we see good to result from it, we ought not to cavil or complain, but be satisfied, and thank- ful.

That in any manner whatever, and in what dep-ree soever, it shall appear that the maker of the world gives attention to it, it is a proof of the reality of a providence in general, and of the divine Interference out of the usual course of the laws of nature. It is therefore a decisive proof of a great and important truth. And if he be not such a god as Epicurus and other philosophers supposed, one who, (whe- ther he had created the world or not) sat a perfectly unconcerned spectator of all that passed in it, but really interested himself in tht affairs of men bv oc- casional interpositions, it cannot be doubted but that, from the same principle, he does it at all

F 2, timesj^

84 S0C11ATE5 AND

•f

times, thoiigii in a manner less apparent ; and that his final treatment of men will be according to his proper character, whatever that be, if he be a right- eous and good bemg, he will, no doubt, most ap- prove of virtue and goodness in men, and show it by rewarding tlie righteouis and punishing the wicked.

The reason why he does not do- tliis completely at present, though we are not without some intima- tions of his disposition to do so, it is not difficult to account for. There must be time and opportunity to form cliaracters. The existence of vice, as well

as of virtue, in the world is necessary for this pu r- pose ; and it is not till a character be properly form- ed that a suitable treatment can be adjusted to it. If our maker think of us at ail, it miist be for our good.

Thus do such supernatural suggestions as Soc- rates asserts that he had afford some obscure and indistinct evidence of a moral goisemment of the ivorldj and consequently of a future state of righte- ous retribution. Why such intimations were not more frequent, more distinct, or more general, is beyond our comprehension. If we be asked why the wise and benevolent author of nature permitted the rise and long continuance of the most absurd

and

JISU-S COMPARED.

and abominable systems of polytheism and idolatiy to prevail so long in die world, or ^vhy he should suffer so much vice and misery to exist in it at pre- sent; why mankind should be afflicted with war, pestilence, and famine, and be subject to such dis- tressful accidents as lightning, hurricanes, and eartliquakes, we can only say with Abraham of old, (Gen. xviii. 25.) that the maker and judge of the earth ijoill do 'oshat is right ; and therefore that all these evils, repugnant as they seem to our ideas of

Jjenevolence, may hereafter appear to have been the best methods of promoting general and lasting hap- piness.

If the present state be considered as nothing more than the infancy of our being, we may natu- rally expect to be no more a,ble to account foro,ur treatment in it, than a child is able to account for that of its parent, who, though ever so affectionate, must, if he be wise, continually do what the child, cannot see any reason for, and what he musttliink to be very often exceedingly harsh and unreasona- ble. And as appearances in nature, and in the structure of the world, furnish an unquestionable proof of a wise and benevolent author, the present imperfect state of virtue and happiness does, as such, afford some evidewce that this is the infant

J 3. state

8^ SOCRATES AND

state of our being ; and is therefore an argunicnt, and a promise, as we may say, of future good. And slight as it may be, and less satisfactory than we could wish, it should be highly grateful and a(> ceptable to us.

Section VII.

Of the Character^ and Teachings of Socrates com- pared ivith those of Jesus

Wlien we consider what was most obvious in tlie general disposition and behaviour of Socrates and of Jesus> we see no apparent difference with respect to the command of their natural appetites tnd passions, or their temper in general. Both were equally temperate, though as Jesus was not married, and was never charged with incontinence, he shewed a command of his natural passions in this respect for which there was no occasion in the case of Socrates. Both of these men seem to have been equally free from austerity and morose- nessin their general behaviour, being equally affa- ble, and no enemies to innocent fqstivity on proper occasions.

They

JESUS COMPARED. 87

They were both capaljle of strong personal at^ tachments, as Socrates to several of his friends and pupils, and Jesus to the family of Lazaius, to hi^ apostles iu general, and to John in particular. And his discourses and prayer before his death shov» s his affection for them in the strongest manner, Al- so his attention to his mother, v/hile hung upon the cross, deserves particular notice in this respect.

Both of them were the friends of virtue, and la- boured to promote it; but Jesus expressed strong- er indignatibn against vice, especially the vices of the^reat, and of the leading men of his country, against whose pride, hypocrisy, and injustice, he pronounced the rnost vehoment and provoking in- veJctives ; whereas Socrates adopted the gentler me- thod of irony and ridicule.

There was, I doubt not, great propriety, as well as ing-enuity, in tlie ironical manner that Socrates is said to have very often used, in exposing the vices of particular persons ; and by this means he is said, .and with great probability, to have made himself many bitter enemies. But tliere was certainly more of dignity in the direct and seriqus invectives of Jesus, such as his saying, (Mat. xxiii. 13. &c.) JVoe unto you Scribes and pharisees, hypocrites^ t^c,

F 4. And

as SOCRATES AND

And let it not be forgotten that this was pronounc- ed by the son of a carpenter, of onl}'-. about timrt^ years of age, and publicly in the temple, where h^ was always attended by great mi^ltitudes of per- sons of all ranks, and that no reply >vas ever mad«^ to him on these occasions. He by th^s conduct made himself as many enemies as ^qci^e^,, hit^t it was in a manner that showed more cqurage.

Both Jesus and Socrates took advai^t^ge pf pre- sent incidents, as liints for their instructive dis- courses ; but those of Socmtes have the appearance of having been contrived before hand, while those to which Jesus alluded were such as naturally pre- sented themselves at the time.

What was peculiar to Socrates was his propos- ing to his hearers a series of questions, by means of which he made tlie conclusions he wished to have drawn seem to be their own ; so that all objections

were precluded. A great peculiarity in the dis- courses of Jesus, though his manner Avas very vari- ous, and often authoritatively didactic, which that of Socrates never was, consisted in his numerous /><2;v ables^ tlie meaning of which, when he intended it to be so, was sufficiently obvious, and peculiarly striking ; as in those of the rich man and Lazarus, of the man who was robbed, and nearly murdered,

on

JESUS COMPARED S9

on his way to Jericho, and the peculiarly fine one of the prodigal son, and therefore more easily re- tained in memory, as well a.5 adapted to make a stronger impression on the mind, than a moral les- ion not so introduced and accompanied.

At other times there was an intended obscurity in the parables and sayings of Jesus. He did not always wish to be understood at the time, but to have what he said to be remembered, and reflected ^ upon afterwards. Such sayings were calculated to engage more attention from their being expres- sed in a concise, figura^tive and enigmatical man- Ker;^sW'hen he said, (John ii. 19.) Destroy this temple and in three days I 'will raise it up. Such a saying as this would not be forgotten. His ene-, laa^s^ we find, remembered it, and his friends yrould understand his meaning in due time ; as th^y would his saying, (John xii. 31.) If I be lift, ed up from the earth I will draw all men unto me ; ii{i which he alluded both to his crucifixion, his re- suTrection, and the universal spread of his gospel.

It is very remarkable that thei-e are not in the most elaborate compositions of the antients or mo- diems any- parables so exceHent for pertinency to flie oecai^on on which they were delivered, for pro- priety and consistency in their parts, and for im-

F 5. ix)itant

\

^0 SOCRATES AND

portant meaning, as thor^e of Jesus. Numerous ^^ they are, they all r.ppear to have been unpremedi- tated, as they arose from circu mstances in which the speaker had no choice. There is. nothing trif- ling or absurd in any of them; and few others, thoaghthe result of much stuc^y, ai'e free from ob- jection of tliis kind. It will not be supposed that the parables of Jesus received any improvement from the writers of his life, and yet the more they are studied the more admirable they ai'e found tobe.*

Both the discourses and the general manner of life of Socrates ajid Jesus have an obvious resem- blance, as they both went about graciously doing rood, according to their several abilities, situations^ and oppiortunities ; but we see an infinite superior- ity with respect to Jesus, though he had no such

advantage

* On this subject of parables, and every thing relating to the mternal evidences of Christianity ^ I would particulai-ly recommaid a most corrtprehen- sive and excellent work of Mr. J. Simpson's, enti- tled, Internal a7id presumptive evidences of Christian- ity cofisidered separately and as nnited to for^i one argument^ 1801.

JESUS COMPARED.' 91?

advantage of education and instruction as Socrates

had.

Socrates had all the advantage that education, in the most polished city of Greece, and tlie most

improved period of it, could give him; having been enabled by the generosity of a wealthy citizen to attend die lectures of all the celebrated masters of his time, in every branch of science then kno^Mi; ^d with respect to natural capacity, he was pro- bably equal to J6sus, or any otlier man.

On the contrar}-, the circumstances of the pa- rents of JesuSj and his low occupation till he appear- ed in public, exclude the supposition of his having had any advantage of liberal education. 'JCliis, in- deed, was objected to him by his ad\"ersaries. (John

vii. 15.) T/ie jeius mar'velled, saying, Hoiv kiwli)' eth this man letters, Iiamng neuter learned, that is, how did he acquire so much knowledge, A^ithout being regularly instructed by the professed teach- ers of the law ?

Notwithstanding this great disadvantage; we find that, widiout any previous preparation that was visible, Jesus, from his very first appearance, assumed more authority, as a teacher and reprover

of vice, than any other man before or since ; ad-

diessing

92 Socrates and

I /

dressing himself to great multitudes, or single perr.

sons, the most emii^nt for their rank or know- ledge, without the least embarrassment, arid with an air of superiority to all men ; aiid yet witiiout the appeaxance of any thing impertinent, ostentatir ous, or insulting.

Had Socrates introduced any of his instructions with Verily, eerily, I say imt^ you^ or any lan- guage of a similar import, he would have exposed himself to the ridicule of his audience, even ip the

f latest period of his life, when he had acquired the

greatest respect and authorit}% But this language

/ was usual with Jesus from the very first ; as in his

discourse on the mount, when, instead of being in- sulted, he by this very means excited: tte greater veneration and attachment. For we read, (Matt, vii. 28. ) It came to pass ivfien Jesus had ended these sqyings, tlie people were astonished at his doctrine , for he taught them as one hailing authority y and not as the scribes.

How must any other man than Jesus have ex- posed himself to ridicule, if, when speaking of the "Ninevites repenting at the preaching of Jonah, and of the queen of Sheba coming from lier own distant countiy to hear the wisdom of Solomon, he had ad- ded,

JfiSUS C.pMPARED.

9A

ded, as Jesus did, but a greater than Jonah, and one greater than Solomon is here, (Matt. xii. 41. &:c.) But for any thing tliat apj^ears he was heard with the greatest awe and respect. Infinitely more arro- gant must it have appeared in any other man to say, as he did, after his resurrection, (Matt, xxviii. 18.) All poiver is giiien unto me in heai^en and in earth. Go ye, therefore, and teach all natio7ts. No man but one who had actually risen from the deadj and who had before this performed such miracles as convinced his hearers that he had a commission from God, could have used such language as this, and have been heard with acquiescence and respect. To say nothing on tlie subject of mii-acles-, to which Socrates did not pretend (but the truth of which in the case of Jesus can alone account for the air of superior dignity and authority that he constantly assumed, as a messenger from God, and having his authority delegated to him) his discour- ses relate to subjects of infinitely more importance than those of Socrates, the great object of diem be- ing to inculcate a purer and more sublime morality respecting God and man than any heathen could have a just idea of, and urging his hearers in all their behaviour in this life to have a principal re- spect to another, which was to oommence when he

hirnself,.

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94 SOCRATES AND

himself, after a painful death, to which he krretV that he AVas destined, and his remoYal from the world, should return, invested with power to raise the dead, and to judge the world, when he would give lo every man according to his works.

These are pretensions that no other man besides Jesus ever made ; but with these ideas of his pre- sent pov/er from God, and his future great destina- tion, his conduct, and his language, as a publio teacher corresponded; and his hearers, believing tliis, heard him with suitable reverence and respect.

What other man, to mention but one instance more, would not have exposed himself to ridicule by making such pretensions, and using such lan- givage, as the following, (John xi. 25.) I am the resurrection and the life. He that bdie'veth in me^ though he ixiere deadly et shall he live. (vi. 40.) This. is the unll of him tliat sent me^ that every one who seeth the son^ and believeth on him, shall have ever^ lasting life ; and I will raise him up at the last day, (Matt. XXV. 31.) IVhen the son of man (by which phrase he always meant himself) shall come in his glory y and all his holy angels with him^ then shall he sit on the throne of his glory ; and before him will be gathered all nations ^ and he will separate

tkem

JESUS COMPARED. 93

iJiem one from another^ as a shepherd divideth the sheep from the goats, ^c.

The most astonishing proof of extraordinaiy au- thority assumed and exercised, by Jesus was^his diiving- the buyers and sellers out of the outer court of the temple at tlie time of a public festival, when that use had, of course, been made of it time imme- morial, and with the permission of the rulers of the nation. This he did with only a whip of small cords to drive out the oxen and other cattle ; when as we read, (Mark xi. 15. He overthrew the ta- bles of the money changers, and the seats of them that sold doDes ; saying ; It is luritten, My house shall be called the house of prayer for all fiations, but ye ha've made it a den of thieiies. This w^as done without opposition, remonstrance, or delay.

When this was done the scribes and pharisees asked him by what authority he had done it, and vjho gaise him that authority ; but they declining to answ^er a question that he put to them, he refus- ed to give them any answer. We do not, I will venture to say, in all history, read of an act of au- thority equal to this by any private person, and a person without any relations or pations conspicuous for wealth or power ; and yet this bold unauthor- ized acton was never alleged against him as a breach

C

M SOCRATES ANP

of the peace, or produced against him at his trial. ' We only read (Mark xi. 18.) that the scribes and

chief priests heard it, and sought hoiu they might de- stroy him. For they feared him, because all the people ivere astonished at his doctrine.

But independently of this superior authority with which Jesus always delivered himself, the subjects

of his discourses and exhortations were far more

serious and weisrhtv than those of Socrates, In- deed, some of those that are recorded by Xcnophon

{ are so exceedingly trifling, that we cannot help

wondering that a writer of such judgment and

I good sense should have thought it worth his while

to relate them. Some of those of Jesus are, no douht, of mu^h less importance than others ; as v/hen he advises persons how to place themselves at table where there are many guests of differeni; ranks, &c. and observations and advices of far less importance than even this are not unbecoming So- crates, Jesus, or any man in proper circum-stances. For the gravest characters ai'e not always speaking,

as we say, ex cathedra. In the ordinary situations of human life, when nothing very serious is ex- pected, but mere good humour and good sense^ even innocent pleasantry is well received.

But

JESUS COMPARED. 97

But the gi-eat inferiority in all heathens A\ith re- spect to knowledge, especially concerning God, pro- vidence, and a future state, made it absolutely im- possible that the moral discourses of Socrates should have the clearness, the weight, and impor- tance, of those of Jesus. The comparison of their discourses in this riespect shews the great superior- ity of the system of religious truth that was familiar to all Jews, as contained in their sacred books, to any thing that wa^ known to the most enlightened of the heathens, among whom Socrates shines with a distinguished preeminence.

To resort once more to the conduct of Socrates and Jesus. Socrates behaved with great propriety and dignity at his trial ; but it was by no means equal to the behaviour of Jesus in similar circum- stances, though it is probable that he was \vholly unacquainted with the forms and solemnity of courts of justice, especially those of the Romans, which would have thrown many persons intirely off their guatrd ; whereas Socrates had himself sat as a judge in one of the most important criminal cau- ses that was ever brought before any court of jus- tice. But Jesus replied to the interrogations of Pi- kte the Roman governor, as well as to those of the

G. Jewish.

08

SOCRATES AND

Jewisli high priest, with the greatest presence of mind, and the utmost propriety ; having the pru- dence and self command, to make no answer at ail to questions that were improper, and required none. This he did in a manner that astonished Pilate himself.

The readiness of Jesus to die after a hasty and most unjust condemnation, was certainly not less to be admired than that of Socrates, though the death of the latter was the easiest possible, and not in the least disreputable ; being that to which the first citizens in the state, if sentenced to die, were brought : whereas that to which Jesus was sen- tenced was at the same time the most painful and the most ignominious.

Socrates had a very humane and compassionate person to administer the poison to him, shedding tears a\ hen he delivered it ; and with great propri- ety Socrates spoke kindly to him on the occasion. But it is most probable that the Roman soldiers who nailed Jesus to the cross did that office as they generally did, without any feeling of compassion, and perhaps with mockery, as they had treated him before. And yet it is probable that at the yeiy time when they were putting him to the greatest

pain,

JESUS CO-MPARED.

^9

pain, he pronounced that admirable prayer in their favour, (Luke xxiii. 24.) Father forghe them, for they know not what they do, there being no par- ticular guilt in their doing that office.

Rousseau, though an unbeliever, was struck with the great difFerence between tlie cases of Jesus and Socrates in their last moments, and describes them in the following energetic manner. •' The " death of Socrates, who breathed his last in philo- *' sophical conversation witli his friends, is the *^ mildest death that nature could desire ; while *' the death of Jesus, expiring in torment, injured, " inhumanly treated, mocked, and cursed by an *' assembly of people, is the most horrible onetliat " a mortal could apprehend, Socrates while he " takes the poisoned cup gives his blessing to the " person who presents it to him w ith the tenderest " marks of sorrow, Jesus in the midst of his ago- " nies prays — for whom? for his executioners. " Ah! if the life and death of Socrates cany the '' marks of a sage, the life and deajth of Jesus pro- ^' claim a God.''

Section

G2,

100 SOCRATES AND

Section VIII.

Of the different Objects of the Imtructwns of Socrates

and of Jesus.

Tliere is a remarkable difference between the ge- neral conduct of Jesus and his apostles, and that of Socrates and the Grecian philosophers in gene- ral, with respect to the persons to whom they usu- ally addiessed their instructions. All the teaching of the latter was confined to persons of good condi- tion, such as were likely to have influence in the important offices and concerns of the state ; but this was no particular object with Jesus. Though So- crates, unlike other philosophers, took no money for his instructions, his admonitions appear to have been confined to persons of the same class with the pupils of the others. There is not one of the dia- logues in which he is the speaker, either in Xeno- phon or Plato, in which the common people are any part of the audience ; so that the great mass of citizens could not receive any benefit from his teaching.

On the other hand, the discourses of Jesus were addres. sed to persons of all ranks promiscuously,

and

\

JESUS COMPARED. 101

aiid generally to crowds of the common people, though without excluding any, and rather selecting those of the lower classes, who were held in con- tempt by the leai'ned scribes and phai-isees, for his audience. He was commonly attended by gi'eat multitudes, of whom very few can be thought to have been what we c'sAX persons of condition, or who were likely to have any influence in public affairs, to which indeed his instructions had no relation

whatever.

On two occasions, when crowds of this kind at- tended him, he fed them by a benevolent miracle ; whereas had they been opulent, they would, no doubt, have come suiiiciently provided with every thing. We read (Mark vi. 34.) that he was mo^^ ed ijjith compassion toivards the multitude^ because they were as sheep not ha-ving a shepherds And again, (Matt. xv. 32.) he says, I ha'ue compassion on the multitude, because they haue continued with me now three days, and ha've nothing to eat ; and I am imwilling to send them away fasting, lest, they faint in the way.

Sometimes persons of better condition, and of a higher rank, such as Nicodemus, applied to Je- sus; butvve never find that he sought their socie- ty; or first, in any manner, applied to them, or to

G 3. any

102 SOCRATES AND ^

any of the scribes and pharisees, who were the lead- ing men in the country. Whereas, Socrates with the best views, no doubt, appears to have apphed to no other. In this circumstance, howiever, we see a striking difference between these two teach- ers of vii'tue. The object of Socrates was the in- struction of a feAi\ but that of Jesus of the many, and especially those of the middle and lower clas- ses, as standing in most need of instruction, and most likely to receive it with gratitude and without prejudice.

The apostles, in this and in every thing else, fol- lowed the example of their master, and addressed themselves to all classes of men without distincti- on, and without ever selecting the powerful, the rich, or the learned. To them men of all descrip- tions were equal, as standing in the same relation to the common parent of all mankind ; equally train- ing up by him in the same great school of moral discipline here, and alike heirs af immortality here- after.

Thus the aposde Paul says, (1 Cor. xii. 13.)

We are all baptized into one body, whether we be ^ews or Gentiles, whether we be bond or free. (Gal. xiii. 27.) As many of you as ha'ue been baptized into Christ hai^e put on Christ, There is neither

Jev)

JESUS COMPARED. 103

^ew 7ior Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female, for ye are all one in Christ Jesus, (Col. iii. 11.) There is neither Greek nor Jew, circumcision 7ior uncircumcision, barbarian, Scythian, bond nor free ; but Christ is all and in alL This is language suited to the equal nature, and e- qual rights of all men ; but it was never held by tlie Grecian philosophers, nor did their conduct at all correspond to it. With them barbai'ians, and espe- cially slaves, were of little account, any farther than they were qualified to serve them.

Accordingly, we find that the schools of the Grecian philosophers were attended by none but persons of considerable rank and wealth. The lower order of the citizens took no interest in any thing that they taught, so that their morals could not be at all improved by them. But by the preach- ing of the apostles a great and visible reformation was made among all ranks of men, and especially the lower, and of those some of the most depraved. Thus the apostle Paul, after obser^'ing what was quoted from him before, concerning those who should «o; inherit the kingdom of God, as idolaters, adulterers, thieves, &:c. adds, but such were some of you. But ye are washed, but ye are sane ti fed, but ye are just i^ed, in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by

G 4. the

i-./i

104 S-OCRATES ANO

the Spirit of our God. Many passages in the epis- tles of the apostles shew the wretched state with re- spect to morals in which the gospel found men, and how much they were improved by it.

In none of the dialogues of Socrates do we find any woman to be present, except Theodota, the courtezan above mentioned ; and though the do- mestic manners of the Grecian women of virtuej and of condition, were such as that they could not with decency attend public discourses, the middle and lower classes of women in Greece, as in all o- ther countries, went abroad as openly as men ; and therefore might have been in the way of instructi- on, had the common people in general been addres- sed by the philosophers.

But christian teachers never made any account of difference of sex. When Jesus fed the five thou- Siand, and also the four thousand, there were wo^ men and children among them, as well as men. The same was the case with, the christian churches in Corinth, and other cities of Greece. Even at Athens, where Paul did not make many con- verts, there was one woman of the name of Dama- ns, (Acts xvii. 34.) What her condition M^as ig jiot said. But as she is mentioned by name, it is

probable

JESUS COMPARED, 105

probable that, like Lydia, she was of some consi- derable rank, at least her omti mistress, not subject to the controul of another.

Section IX.

Inferences to he drawn from the Comparison of So- crates and Jesus.

1. In comparing the characters, the moral in- structions, and the whole of the histoiy, of Socrates and Jesus, it is, I think, impossible not to be sen- sibly struck with the great advantage of revealed religion, such as that of the Jews and the cliristians, as enlightening and enlarging the minds of men, and imparting a superior excellence of chai'acter. This alone can account for the difference between Socrates and Jesus, and the disciples of each of them ; but this one circumstance is abundantly sufficient for the purpose.

The manner in which the mind of Jesus must have been impressed by the persuasion that he had of his peculiar relation to God on die one part, and to all mankind on the other, rouldnot fail to make him superior to Socrates, or any other man, in ele- vation of mind, what ever might be their superiori-

G 5. ty

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106 SOCRATES ANO

ty with respect to intellect, general knowledge, or natural advantages of any other kind.

The far greater extent of die views of Jesus, as bearing an important relation to all mankind, and the most distant generations of them ; being tlieir prophet and king^ and also his own peculiar relati- on to God, the common parent of them all, being,

as it were, his ijicegerent upon earthy necessarily gave him an elevation of character that neither Socrates nor any other man could have.

Interested as he was for all that should ever bear the christian name (which in due time he did not doubt would be the case with all men) with what fervour did he pray, (John xvii. 21.) that they might be one with him and his Father y, as they two were one, and that they might share in the glory that was destined for himself from the foundation of the world- What dignity, as well a.5 piety, do we

see here ? What odier man could have used such language as this ?

The habitual piety of Jesus was such as could ll

not have been expected in Socrates, or the most virtuous of the heathens. He appears to have spo* ken, and acted, as at all times not only in the im- mediate presence, but as by the immediate directi- on of God. The words that he spake, he said, (John

xiv. 10.)^

JESUS COMfARED

107

xiv. 10.) ivere not his ow?2, but those of the Father ivho sent him ; and who, being always with him, and ahvaj's hearing him, performed the miraculous works bv wiiich his divine mission was evidenced. So assiduous was he in the discharge of his high commission, that, as he said, (John iv. 34.) it was his meat and drink to do the will of his heai)enly fa- ther^ andfnish the ivork that he gave him to do.

Raised as he was to a preeminence above all other men, he seems to have been even more than any other man sensible of his dependence upon God, and he had recourse to him on all occasions. We even read (Lukevi. 12.) of his spending^ whole night in prayer to God ; and it was in obedi- ence to his will that, notwithstanding the dread that he naturally felt for the painful death to which he was destined, and the horror that he expressed on the near view of it, he voluntai-ily and patiently submitted to it. He prayed, and with peculiar earnestness, that the bitter cup might pass from him, but immediately added, (Matt. xxvi. 39.) Not my ivill but thine be done. Nothing like this could be expected from Socrates, or any heathen. Their knowledge of God, his providence, and his will, were too obscure and uncertain for the pur- pose, though they had been ever so well disposed.

As

i.

108 SOCRATES AND

As tlie worship of Socrates was, nominally at least, directed only to Jupiter, Juno, and the other gods that were acknowledged by his country, it was hardly possible for him not to retain such ideas as were generally entertained of them ; and not- withstanding his endeavours to divest his mind of every thing in their character that must have ap- peared unworthy of divinity, such is the power of association, that it was impossible he should ever do it completely ; and if not, his reverence for the objects of his worship must have fallen infinitely short of that which Jesus, and the Jews in general^ had for their God ; and every sentiment of devoti- on must have partaken of that imperfection. Their love, or attachment to them, dieii" dread of their power, their devotedhess to their will in doing, and their resignation to their will in suffering, the sense they had of their constant dependence upon them, and of their presence with them, must have been very little compared with the same sentiments in the mind of a pious Jew, with respect to tht one great object of his worship.

This must be apparent to any person who M'ill read the book of Psalms, and compare those devo- tional compositions with any (if there be any such) of a similar nature composed by heathens. But

there

JESUS COMPARED. 109

there was nothing in the religions of the heathens, at least among the Greeks and Romans, that could inspire any sentiments that deserve to be called dc- vot'iGnal. This striking difference no person ^\ ill say was owing to any superiority of genius in the Hebre\v poets, and therefore it must have been owing to superior knowledge ; and this superior knowledge could not have had any source but from divine revelation. Without this the Hebrews would, no doubt, have been as absurdly supersti- tions as any of the neighbouring nations ; and con- sequently their ideas of the po^^•er and providence of God as little proper to inspire sentiments of true devotion.

To persons of reflection, and acquainted with the state of the heathen world, and especaally their turn of thinking and acting with respect to religion, there needs no other evidence of the tiiith of revela- tion than a comparison of the hymns in honour of the heathen gods by Callimachus, and other Gre- cian poets, or the carmen seculare of Horace, with the psalms of David, and other devotional parts of the books of scripture, with respect to justness and elevation of sentiment, and correspondent sublimi- ty of language.

2. In

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110 SOCRATES AND

2. In the account that we have of the daemon of Socrates, what he says of it himself, and what ap- pears to have been generally thought of it by others^ we clearly perceive that there is nothing so natural- ly incredible as modern unbelievers represent witli respect to divine inteipositions, either in the case of the \^ulgar, or the philosophers of ancient times. The universal practice of havnig recourse to oracles ar.d divination, is. alone an abundant proof of this with respect to mankind in general ; and the idea of a mystical imioji with God, and a consequent inti- mate communication with him, came into Christia- nity from the later Platonists. In every thing of this kind the emperors Marcus Aurelius and Ju« lian, the great boasts of modem unbelievers, were as creduloii s as the lowest of the vularar.

Where, indeed, can be the impropriety, or im- probability, of the Being that madetlie world, giv- ing attention to it, and giving suitable intimations of that attention ; and this no uniform appearances will do. It is not men's seeing the sun rise and set, or their observing the regular changes of the seasons, that impresses them with the idea of any thing supernatural^ but unusual appearances, though equally natural, arising from the same prin- ciples and laws of nature, such as thunder, light- ning,

JESUS COMPARED. Ill

ning, eclipses, and earthquakes, &c. Both history and daily observation is a proof of this. And, sure- ly miracles, performed by duly autliorized pro- phets, do this infinitely better than any merely un- usual natural phenomena.

This opinion of the natural incredibility of ac- counts of miracles, on which Mr. Hume, and af- ter him other unbelievers lay so much stress, as what no positive testimony can shake, is quite a modem thing. But had lliis incredibility' had any foundation in nature, it must have been the same at all times, and in all countries ; and it must have affected all classes of men, princes and peasants, the learned and the unlearned ; whereas all history shews that a propensity to believe accounts of di- Vine interpositions has been universal. It entered into all systems of religion whatever, and no nation was ever without some religion. It is impossible, therefore, not to conclude that a system which sup- poses miracles is naturally adapted to gain belief, and therefore that a pretension to miracles is far from being a circumstance unfavourable to its re- ception. It is ratlier a presumption in its favour. If it be any object with the Divine Being to give mankind intimations of liis attention to them, and

govern-

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112 SOCRATES ANO

government over them, which no person can say is impossible, or improbable, he could not take any- other method than that of miracles to gain his end.

Much has been said about Socrates referring Alcibiades to a future instructor^ as if he had been sensible of the want of supernatural communicati- on, and that he hoped for, and expected it. But supposing Plato's account of the conversation, (p. 295.) to be depended upon, which it certainly cannot, I can by no means infer so much from it. After expre ssing the uncertainty men are under with respect to proper requests to the gods, he tells Alcibiades that " he must wait till some person in- '* form him (x;? p^u^ri) how he should conduct *' himself both with respect to the gods and to *' men."

When, ill reply to this, Alcibiades expresses much importunity to be informed who this teach- er was, taking for granted that it w^as some man (for he says " I would gladly know who this man "is,") Socrates only says, tliat " it was one who " cared much for him," meaning probably that he was much his friend ; "but that at present a degree " of darkness hung over his mind, which must " first be dispersed." I therefore think it most

probable

JESUS COMPARED 113

probable that he meant himself^ but that he thought his pupil not then suificiently prepared to receive farther instruction on the subject. .

3. We se2 in the case .oi Socrates himself, as welhastin that of the people of Athens in general, the strong attachment which the heathens had to the rites of their ancient religions. To cUsregaid them, j\nd to adopt other rites, was punishable \^ ith death. The Athenians, as well as other nations, occasion- ally adonted the worship of other gods, and other o-ods, and other modes of worship, cut individuals were not allowed to do it. It must be done by the authority of the state, and at Athens it v, as by the court of Areopagus. On this account the apostle Paul, who was said to endeavour to introduce the worship of strange gods, and a new religion, ^vas brought before this court.

But though heathen nations sometimes adopted other rites, they never abandoned their ancient ones. There does not appear to have been any ex- ample of this in all antiqu it}-. Nor can we wonder at this, when it is considered, that in all heathen countries, the prosperity of the state was thought to depend upon the obser^'ance of the religious rites of their ancestors, the founders of the respective states. No principle appears to have been more

li, fixed

i^

114 SOCRATES AND -

fixed ill the minds of al! men than this. We see it in the extreme rehictance with AA'hich some of the most absurd and indecent rites, as the Lupercaha at- Rbitie, were given up. And to the very last, the more learned, and therefore, it may be presumed, the least superstitious of the Romans, constantly upbraided the christians with being the cause of the decline of the empire, b}^ tlie introduction of their new religion.

This attachment of the heathens to their religion w'ixi necessarily increased by its entering into all the customs, and confirmed habits, of common life ; some rite of a religious nature being observed from the time of their birth to that of their death, and in fact from the morning to tlie evening of eve^ ry day. Every entertainment, public or private, was tinctured with it. No act of magistracy could be performed without it ; and in countries the most advanced in civilization the public festivals, in ho- nour of their gods, were vQvy numerous. It will be seen in Potter's Antiquities of Greece^ that not less th?.n sixty-six of them were obsers^ed by the Athenians, and several of them were of some days continuance. And in general there was so much in them of festivity and amusement, bordering, to say the least, on licentiousness, that they were very &£cinating to tiie common people. When

JESUS COMPARED.' 11

J

4:'

AVIien it is considered ho^v discordant and incon- sistent all this was with the principles of christiani- tVi so that when anv heathen became a christian he must change every habit of his life, as we'll as his opinions ; that let him live ever so privately, he ■could hai-dly pass a single day without the change being observ-ed, and that at the birth of a child, a marriage, or a funeral, it must have been conspi- •cuous to all his neighbours, and the whole city, though he might have found some excuse for not aEttending the public sacrifices, and other rites of a visible nature, and tliough he should not have tliought himself obliged (which all christians aj^e) to make an open profession of his faith, confessing Christ before men^ we shall not \\ onder at the dif- ficulty with which this great chang-e must have been made, anv more than at the aiainn that \\'as ta- ken when many converts were made to Christianity, ^ndthe consequent persecution of christians, as se- ditious persons, men :a>/?.r7 turned the nvorld upside doivTiy (Acts x^ ii. 6.) their principles tending to the ruin of all states.

While tlie christians were few, and generally con- sidered as converts to Judaism, which a\ as univer- sally tolerated, and a\ Iiile they behaved in a verj-

H 2, peaceable

liO SOCRATES AND

peaceable inoffensive manner, they might not give much alarm, notwithstanding their singulaiities ; but when the^/ were observed to be numerous, they v;ould r>ot fail to give alarm to all henthen go- vernors. They were then exposed to the most Unrelenting persecution, except v.here the acting magistrates were secretly disposed in their favour.

The rapid 'progress of eliristianity in these cir- cumstances will ever appear the most extraordina- ry thr .; in tlie histor}^ of the world. It appears from the epistle of Paul, thut in his time there were christian churches in all the more considerable ci- ties in the eastern paic of the Roman empire. In tlie time of the emperor Trajan, the younger Plinyj then rovernor of Ei*h}mia, complsined that the rites of the ancient religiv>ns were generally dicontinued in his province ; and in the space of about tmee hun- dred vears so numerous and respectable were tiie christians become, in the whole extent of that \'ast empire, that the emperors themselves found they might safely declare themsehes christians.

To account for tlie rise and progress of Christia- nity, and the OA^erthrow of heathenism, and this without violence, in the whole extent of the Ro- man empire, in so short a space of time, is a pro- blem that no unbeliever has seriously attempted to

solve.

JESUS COMPARED. 117

solve, except Mr. Gibbon may be said to have en- deavoured to do it. But liis observations on the subject are so exceedingly futile, that they disco^ cr equal prejudice and ignorance, ignorance of the common principles of human nature, of the nature of heathenism, and of the state of the heathen v.orkl. I proposed to enter into the discussion of tliislm- portant subject with him, but he petulantly declin- ■ed it, as may be seen in the letters that passed be- •tw'een us relating to it, published in the Appendix to the Jirst 'ooliime of my Discourses on the evidence cf rei^eakd religion, and also in the Life of Mr. Gibbon by one of his friends. At my time of life I cannot engage in this, or any other controversy ; but I earnestly wish, as a friend to important truth, that some learned aixl candid unbeliever ( and such I doubt not there are) wiDuld engage in it. He would find christians enow equally learned and can- did to discuss the question with him.

4. Neither Socrates nor Jesus were wi'Iters, and there seems to be more of dignity in their cha- racters in consequence of it, as if they were not ve- ry solicious about transmitting their names to pos- terity ; confident, that as far as it was an object widi them, it would be sufficiently done by others. Ail ihe accounts, therefore, that we have of them come

H 3. from

lis SOCRATES ANfl

from their disciples and friends. And there is a. remaikable difference in the manner in which the life of Socrates is written by Xenophon, and that of Jesus by the evangelists. There cannot be a doubt but that the evangeHsts had a much higher opinion of tlieir master than Xenophon or Plato had of theirs. The traces of this are numerous, and in- disputable ; but there is not in their writings any dn-ect encomium, or praise, of him, as there is in the Greek writers of Socrates ; and yet without any assistance of this kind a reader of moderate discern- ment cannot help forming a much higher idea of. Jesus dian he does of Socrates from the foe'- - - corded of him, and the discourses ascribed co ruia.

Indeed, we have no example of such simpiiciiy in writing as that of the scriptures of the O.d and New Testaments in all the heathen worid ; and it is not easy to account for the difference, especially with respect to the later writers ; except that Mo- ses having begun to write in this simple manner, the succeeding writers, having no other model, na- turally followed that ; inseiting in their composi- tions nothing that appeared superfluous, as direct encomiums are, Avhen the facts from which such encomiums ai'e drawn, are before the reader ; who may be supposed as capable of drawing a proper inference from them as the writer himself.- As

-m

JEstrS COMPARED. 119

As the sacred Vvrlters say nothing directl}- in praise of those ^\hom they most esteemed and ad- mired, they say nothing directly in dispraise, or ■censure, of those whom they most disliked, but leave the circumstances they simply mention to make their natural impression upon their readers. And from the effects of these two different modes of writing, the natural and the artificial^ as they may be termed, the former appears to be better cal- culated to answer the purpose of the writer than the latter. When a man directly praises or cen- sures another, we suspect some previous bias for or against hmi, and are upon our guard ; but w hen we read a simple narrative of facts, without any ex- planatory remarks of the writer ; we have no sus- picion of any thing unfavourable^to truth- We tliink w^e see with oar own eyes, and hear with our own ears, and that we thus judge for ourGeh-es.

My father to shew how little stress he laid on a casual opinion, has directed me to add the follow- ing sentence concerning the Demon of Socrates — • from his second tract in answer to Dr. Linn, and to insert it at the end of the section relatino* to So-

crates. J.

H 4. As

120 SOCRATES AND, &,C.

As to the Demon of Socrates, on whicji you urge me so closely, I professed not to have any fixed opinion about it. If I had been asked what I thought of it a short time before the writing of my pam- phlet, I should have said, as you do, it was probably nothing more than his own good sense , but on considering his character more particularly, I was- un^\ illing to think that such a man would persist through life, and to his dying moments, in telling a lie. And what the Supreme Being might please to do by or with him, or any man, neither you nor I can tell. But I never said, as you now quote me, that " God spake to Socrates by a demon," which jTiu call, (p. 75,)" a glaring deformity of my asser- " tion. Such an idea never occurred to me. As my opinion on this very unimportant subject is unsettled, it is ver}^ possible that I may revert to my former opinion,, and yours about it.

ON

121

ON

P L A T O N I S M.

INTRODUCTION,

X^^LATO was the professed disciple of Socrates, and attended him eight years. His attachment to him appears by the sum that he raised to procure his release from imprisonment, and his eagerness to speak in his defence at his trial. The vene- ration in which he held his memory is evident from his making him the principal speaker in many of his dialogues, and the person \\\\o delivers his own sentiments -in them.

After the death of Socrates, Plato travelled in J^tatc l/icWcMoL^ quest of knowledge, first into Italy, m here he con- fi QfoiSTtiX. versed with the disciples of Pythagoras, and after- wards into Egypt, where, being known to be a per- /<5 i^t^P^ son of considerable distinction in liis own countr}-, he appear to have been received with great respect, aiad from the Eastern part of the world in which it ^ ''^ l^~C^

is

\

y

122 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

\( hdJ Ihf-^J^^is said he travelled in the disguise of a merchant, U/t'M I Of ^^ l^c seems to have got some knowledge, directly of Jctiri^i ,^A^ indirectly, of the sytem that generally prevailed Vc^t J^^^ ^i there.

l/rdOxUtd '^ That he should expect to learn something in

/ r^ftS lui/fi ^ countries out of the bounds of Greece is not ex-

, / traordinary, as it is acknowledged by him, that

y, /L (J^ Y^**" v\/hat the Greeks knew concerning the gods, and

9 " their worship, was derived from the Barbarians.'*

But he says (Epinomis.) " what the Greeks leam-

{>j I ' rnorl ^^ ^^ the Barbarians we have improved." Not-

* H'LA //7(;z/w withstanding this acknowledgment, he is willing

sh />»< ^c.to ascribe more merit to the Greeks than to them,

■u hen he says (lb.) that '' though there is the great-

" est difficulty in the invention of these things, we

" hope that all the Greeks will honour the one

" God in a better manner than the Barbarians, e-

*' specially as instructed, and warned, by the Del-

'VC k IhoYt ixHr V^^^^ oracle" (lb.) so that, in his ophiion, the

' ijQhu(a/r <:3L Greeks had divine instruction as well as human.

{Jg'ioM IhoJ: cud He farther acknowledges that, in the eai"ly ages,

n&t f^y^'^'^^^^^^ihe Greeks entertained very imperfect ideas of

to (Uiy^nc Jvi *■<- the gods and their worship, having low ideas of

jl/fLuutni . <' their characters, which they did well to correct.

" Because in time past, he says (lb.) our ancestors

" formed ^\Tong opinions of the gods, and their

" proge-

OF PLATO.

123

n

progenies, as if they had been animals, we . . y

''should now treat the subject differently." \\\JC^<^J^^^'^' this he aliu des to the marriages of the gods and god- desses, and their reputed offspring, in other gods, and also in their acceding to the popuku' notions, adopted and embellished by the poets, which gave him such oll^^nce that we shall find he prascribed their writings, and excluded them from his com- , ^

momvealth. Indeed, these notions of the vulgar /^^ -^^^^ ^^ were rejected by all who pretended to philosophy,^ ^ , , ^/LjiM/i or superior knowledge, in Greece, from long t>e-'^ a ^^ J^irijUu ^ fore the time of Socrates, as we have seen already ^^^ oyntl ^kc and to the latest period of it. al^jfom 6Ua£Jcd yo/ia4 Ma^JtrnM

Section L

Of God and his Providence,

The being of a god, or of gods, for Plato uses Jlntajyi^L M^ both the phrases promiscuously, he generally takes u4/rc cf n ^^^ for granted. Occasionally, however he introduces ^^^ cw^i^cu arguments for his opinion, especially (Dc Legib. "^^ CUrf^^ ^ lib. 10.) from the consideration of the structure of^^'"'^^ Jyi^cud the earth, the sun, the stars, and the whole universe.. Cl/t^ ifj'j/^^.

*' How could '.x)die of such magnitude," he says* // w.^^ ma/^ (Epin.) *' perform their circuits without god. l// rrt /-^v

therefore ^ ;^, / / ,/

COticl dcducal', ^^^ '>^^ rn^c ya///rv%aJ f^Om

124 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

" tlierefore assert that god is the cause of this, aiid *' that there cannot be anv other." He also ar- giies " from the variety of seasons, dividing time *' into years and months, and also from tlie con- *' sent of all nations, Greeks and Barbarians." (De Leg. lib. 10.) But according to him, and in- deed all the heathen philosophers without excepti- on, the matter out of which the world w^as made, was not created by god, but found by him ; having existed from eternity as well as himself, but in a confused disorderly state, such as was generally termed chaos. Thebeing of a God, or gods, Pla- to thought to be so evident, that he says (lb.) " No person persists in his disbelief of the gods ^' from youth to old age."

There is a great air of piety in die writings of Plato; and this, no doubt, contributed to make his philosophy so well received by the early chris- tians. In a letter to Dion (Epist. 4.) he says, " by *' the favour of the gods things go well-" The same pious language occurs again in the same let- ter. That he prefeiTcd the tenn god to that of gods is evident from his letter to Dionysius, of Syra- cuse (Epist. 13.) in which he informs him that, in his serious letters he begins with the iti'mgod,

hut

OF PLATO

125

but that in those in which he was not serious he u- ses the term gods. This, Iw^wever, is no guide to us with request to liis dialogues, so that we ai*e left to distinguish his real sentiments from those speak- ers to whom he gives the ad\antage in the argu- mep% vvhich, however, is sufficiently apparent.

Not-vithstaiidir.g Plato's great admiration of So- crates, he did not confine himself, as Socrates did, to that philosophy which is of practical use in life, tending to rectify the dispositions of men, and incit- ing: them to such virtues as would make them use- ful members of society, but indulged in various speculations concerning the nature of God and the universe, and in a manner that his master would not have approved. Indeed, on these gixat but ob- scure subjects he is in many respects perfectly un- intelligible-

Accordingto Plato, the universe was constructed by the supreme being, whom he frequently dis- tinguishes by the tide of ( ayaSog ) without the instrumentality of any subordinate being, ac- cording to a pattern of it previously formed in his own miiid. But there is great confusion in his ac- count of these ideas in the divine mind, (\\ hich he, no doubt, borrowed from the Pythagoreans as was observed before) so that he sometimes makes them

ase-

^

/

126 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

a secorsd principle of things, and distinguishing be- tween what is sensible from \^'hat is hiteliectual in man ; and considering all that we see here as the object of the senses^ he supposes these ideas to be invisible to the senses, but comprehended by the intellect; and though they exist in the divine mind, the intellect of man has free access to them. He tlierefore calls them things inteUigible^ and says that what we see here are only the shadows of them^ and changeable, whereas diose intelligible ideas are the only things that arc unchangeable, and perma- nent. The great object of philosophy, according to him, is to raise the mind to the contemplation of these higlicr, intelligible, and permanent, objects. Aristotle ascribes this view of thinge to Hera- clitus. *' The doctrine oiideas^ he says, is advanc- *' ed by those who were convinced by Heraclitus, ** that sensible things are always flowing, and " changeable; so that if there be .any such thing *^ as real knowledgey which was supposed to re- *' quire 2i fixed object^ there must be things of a dif- " ferent nature from those that are the object of our " senses. They must be fixed, there being no '•proper knowledge of things that are flowing." (Metaph, Lib. 12. Cap. 4.)

To

OF PLATO. 127

To tliis doctrine Plato seems to allude when he says (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) " All see the body of '* tlie sun, but not the soul that animates it; Not *' being the object of any of our senses, it is seen *' by the mind." All the meaning that I can make of this doctrines of ideas, perceived by the intellect, and not by the senses, things not fluctuating and variable, as the objects that we converse with are, is that they mean what we call abstract ideas, as those of horses, men, trees, &:c. divested of the cir- cumstances of colour, size, place, &c. which al- ways attend individual objects ; and in this there is no great mystery, but still every actual ideaiias some peculiarity or other, as well as real objects.

On this mysterious doctrine of ideas, whicli were personified by the later Platonists, and made a kind of second god, the immediate author of the creation, was founded the doctrine of the christian trinity, as I have shewn at large in my History of Early Opinion concerning Jesus Christ. 'I'he mis- chief that has arisen from false metaphysical prin- ciples has been most extensive, affecting every ar- ticle of christian faith and practice, as may be seen in several of my writings. Indeed, no i^ranch of science has wholly escaped this subtle and baleful ipfludnce. Happily, however, good sense is at

length

/

X28 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

length prevailing over every thing that is not found- ed on reason and truth ; and with this, though seemingly foreign to the subject of religion, we are. deriving that light which exhibits christian itj^ in its best and purest state, as it came from Christ and the apostles, who knowing nothing of heathen phi- losophy, or metaphysics, delivered the plainest truths in the plainest language, though they have since their times been most strangely perverted by an unnatural mixture of heathen principles, and heathen superstition.

Notwithstanding the absurdit}^ of Plato's meta- physical notions concerning the nature of God, and his relation to the universe, his ideas of his attri- butes, and of his pfwidencey werQ in general just and excellent, agreeing with those of the scrip- tures.

Having frequently represented the Supreme Be- ing as the friend of virtue, and the enemy of vice, he says, (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) " God cannot have *' the disposition that he hates. God approves of " those who resemble himself, and is angry (yfjot^o-a) •^ with those who are unlike to him. But nothing

" is so like God as a good man He is the most

" sacred of all things," (Alcib. 2.) meaning that he

has the nearest relation to divinity.

The

OF PLATO. 129

The term by which he generally chaiacterizes the Supreme Being is in the singular number, ^12. the Good, {uyocB^) vindicating his most essential attribute. "Evil," he says (Rep. 3.) "cannot " come from God," and in (Rep. xi.) " we muLit ^' look to some other than God for the cause of e- " vil." This principle, however, he did not caiTy so far as the Stoics, who maintained that God was incapable of anger, so that he would not punish even the wicked. On the contrary, Plato repre- sents the Supreme Beings though termed the Good, as no less just than merciful. " That there are "*' gods," he says (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) " and that " they are good, and respect justice more thaii *' men, is the best introduction to a body of laWs." After denominating him, " the beginnings the mid-^ *' die, and the end, and the supporter of all things," he says (De. Leg. Lib. 4.) " he is always accompa- *' nied by justice, and punishes those who depart *** from the divine law. The humble follow him *' quiet and composed, but he that is elevated by " his riches, his beauty, cw any other advantage, as " if he stood in no need of a guide, is deserted by ** him ; and though such a person may appear en- ** viable toman, in the end he destroys himself, his "fami/, and the state." Agreeably to this, he

I. §ays,

<(

150 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

says, (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) " Let not the sue- " cess of wicked and unjust men, who, though not truly happy, are generally reputed to be so, and who are extolled in poems and discourses, drive " thee rashly into impiety ; nor be disturbed tho' they should continue so to old age, and this pros- *' perity should extend to their children. Nor be *' thou angry with the gods who permit this, or *' think that they neglect the affairs of men; for " they will not be exempt from punishment after " death."

Veracity is another moral attribute that Plato as- cribes to God. ** The nature of God, and of "demons," he says, (De. Rep. Lib. 2.) "ad- *' mits not of folsehood ; for God is altogether " simple, and true in his words and actions. He *' neither changes himself, nor can he deceive o- *' thers, by vicious speeches, or omens, to men " sleeping or awake." This he says by way of censure on Homer, who represents Jupiter as act- ing in this deceitful and unworthy manner, dis- graceful to a man, ajid much more so to a God. To the divine character in this respect he seems to al- lude, though with much obscurity, when he says, (De. Rep. Lib. 6.) " As light and our view of it, *' are not the §un, but the resemblance of the sun.

"so

--m

OP PLATO.

131

" so knowledge and truth are thclmage oUhc Good^ " but not the Good," meaning God. The miije^- ty of the Good itself is greater. Agreeably to diis honourable idea of the divine chm-acter, he sa)-s that '' the oflerings to God," meaning those that are most acceptable to him, " are honour, venera- *' tion, and gratitude," (Euthyphro.)

But notwithstanding this, we shall see that, like all the other heathen philosophers, Plato strongly recommends a conformity to the idolatrous rites of religious worship established in his country^ and even the rigorous punishment of all that did not conform to them ; so far were they from following the light they really had, and so little prospect was there of the world in general being enlightened, and and reformed, by their iusti'uctions.

The WTitings of Plato contain several just and beautiful illustrations of the providence and moral government of God. " God,'* he says, (Politicus) *' is the shepherd of mankind, taking the same care *' of us that a shepherd does of his sheep Imdoxen. " He takes cai-e (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) of the smallest " things as well as of the greatest. None of the *' causes of neglect in men (;an take place with re- ^' spect to Godc We all acknowledge," he says»

1% (lb.)

132 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

(lb.) " that the Gcds see ever)' thing, that tliej-ai'C " all powerful aiid good, yea the best possible, nor " can they be affected by idleness or feai% They, *' therefore, cannot despise or neglect any thing be- " cause it is small. Besides, there is more diffi- " culty in seeing, and disposing of, small things " than of great ones."

*' The universe," he adds, " belongs to God, " and he will not neglect what is his own. He *' cannot be called a wise physician who only at- " tends to the body in general, and not to the par- " ticuiar parts* Nor do governors of cities, or *' masters of families, neglect small things. Ar- " chitects also make use of small stones in laying " the larger ones. And let us not think that God, " who is the Avisest of all, is less wise than man. " Besides man is a w^orshipper of the gods," and tlierefore more deserving of his attention and care.

To shew that the Supreme Being is incapable of being diverted fiom the just administration of af- fairs by any unworthy motive, he says (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) " To say that the gods are easily appeas- *' ed, is to compare them to dogs or wolves, which " are pacified by giving them pait of the plunder, " and then suffer them to worry the slieep. Cha-

" rioteei®

OF PLATO.

153

(^ rioleersare not to be bribed, nor are commanders -" of armies, or physicians, nor are husbraidmea *' or shepherds to be deceived in this manner, nor ** even can crafty wolves thus deceive dogs. And *' are the gods the greatest guardians of the great- '* est tilings, and are the keepers of the greatest *' things worse than dogs, or men of moderate ca- ** pacity, who never act unjustly deceived by the ** bribes of unjust men ?"

There is hardly any adA'antage that men are possessed of that Plato does not ascribe to the gods, and to their good will to men. " It appeal's to me," he says (Philebus,) '• that God sent gifts to nien by *' Prometheus, together with fire. It is not by " art," he says, (Epin.) *' but by nature, and the ** favour of the gods, that we cultivate the earth." He makes God the author of friendship, by dispos- ing dispositions that are similar, and formed for friendship, to unite. (Lysis,) " In the forming of ** states," lie says, (De. Leg. Lib. 4.) " we must ** begin with invoking the gods, that they may be propitious to us, and assist us in making laws." And after representing the ad\'antage of the right worship of the gods, as the most important of all things to be attended to, he says, 1( Epin.) "No maa *' can rightly teach this withoatthe assistance of

1 3, ''God."

13-4 ©F THE riiiLosoriiY ■

He ev^n ascribes to divine iiispiration the great tilings that eminent statesmen do for their coimtr}^, wilhout understanding the nature, or foreseeing the consequences of them, adding, that " all good men *' are in some sense divine." (Meno.)

It must have been among the Pythagoreans that Pk.to leanied what he writes, but in a manner that is very unintelligible, conctmm^ numbers, of which their philosophy made great use. It seems most probable that by metaphysical reasoning they made the Supreme Being to be represented by iifiity ; and as all numbers consist of unity repeated, and after thus proceeding from it are resolvable into it a- gain; so all things, after proceeding from their Jirst cause, will be resolved into it. But this is not the onl}^ use that Plato, no doubt after the Pytha- goreans, made of this comparison. But whatever be the knowledge that we derive from this source, Plato ascribes it to God. " We affirm," he says, (Epin.) " that numbers are the gift of God, and *' on them all the arts of life depend, but this no "prophet { iJL(x{i](g) can comprehend, Whate- *' ver is wicked and irregular is deficient wdth re- " spect to number. Many animals cannot learn ♦' jfrom their parents the use of numbers. It is *' God that gives us this power. The excellent

" ancient,

OF PLATO 135

*' ancients, " he says, (Philebus) " who were near- " cr to the gods than we ai'e, taught us that the uni- *' verse consists oi one and juany, which ahvays has " been, and ever will be. The resemblance of *' numbers dissimilar in tlieir nature, when reduced ** to a plane, is evident ; and this to a person of *' understanding must appear not to be a human, *' but a divine wonder" (Epin.) We do not, however, find, that this mysterious doctrine of numbers was taken up by any of the succeeding sects of philosophy, so that it probably died with Plato.

Section II. Of the Polytheism of Plato.

With all Plato's knowledge of the divinit}^ of his attributes, and his universal providence, and of his preference of the term god to that of gods^ when he is treating of the divine nature, he was, like all hea- thens, a polytheist, and like them an advocate for the strict observ^ance of the idolatrous rites of his country.

He seems to have learned the doctrine of two principles in the East, from his sayings (De. Leg.

I 4. Lib. 10.)

136 GF THE PHILOSOPHY

I/ib. 10.) " Are there one or more souls'? Not less '" than two, the one beneficent, and the other ma- ,, leficent* ;" and also from his saying, as was quoted before, that " we must look to something *' else than e-od for the source of evil." But this was never a doctrine that prevailed in the West. But that Plato considered more beings than one to be entitled to the rank of gods, is evident from his saying (Epin.) " why should we not take the part *' of god who is the author of all good. But which *' of gods, perhaps the hea'ueiis, which we consider^ *' as the most righteous, as all the demons and the *' other gods agree to honour him ; and pray to *' him above all." Wliat he mccmt by the divini- ty of the liea'Dens^ whether the Supreme Being, or the sun, is not clear.

He evidently considered all the celestial bodies as animated, and intitied to the rank of gods. *' The " divine race of stars," he says, (Epin.) must be ** considered ?is celestial animals, with most beau- " tiful bodies, and happy blessed souls ; and that

** they

^ By this he might mean matter, which -was by ^ome considered as refractory^ and the only source ofeijiL But by saying it was maleficent, he seem- ed to consider it as a principle that had intelligence, etnd actimty.

OF PLATO. 137

*' they have souls is evident from tlie regularity of *' their motions." In a manner that to me is per- fectly unintelligible, he deri^'es the different orders of gods from the different elements in nature, plac- ing them, after mentioning by name Jupiter, Juno.

and the demons, according to their diHerent ranks, and provinces (Epin.) He seems, too, to have con- sidered the earth as a proper deity, and the parent of the animals that exist upon it. " For the same *' reason" he says, (Menexenus.) "that a mother *' bears her children, the earth has produced men. ;

" For it is the earth, and nothing else, that supplies " them with food, as having itself produced them."

Plato's di*ead of innovations in matters of religi- on, appears from the following passage in his Epi- nomis. " A legislator of the least understanding *^ will make no innovations, and take care not to |

" turn his state to any other mode of w-orship, or " dare to move what his country has established by *' law or custom concerning sacrifices ; for he: *' knows that no mortal can come at any certainty " with respect to these matters." And yet he ap- proved of such additions to the public rites as would be an improvement upon any of them. *' A *Megislator," he says (lb.) " will be free from

I 5. '' blame \

I

138 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

" blame if he thinks better of the gods tlian his *' predecessors, and by excellent discipline honour *' them with hymns and praises, and live according- " ly." This, however, was not introducing the worship of new gods.

Having distinguished the crime of h?tpiety into three kinds, viz. the maintaining that there are no gods, that they take no care of human affairs, or that they are easily appeased by sacrifices, (De, Leg. Lib. 10.) he prescribes the following punish- ment for the different degrees of guilt in this re- spect.

" If a man neglect the gods by omitting sacrifi- *• ces and despising oaths, he must be punished, ** lest he make others like himself. There are ma- *' ny who deceive others in this manner, deserving *' to die more than one or two deaths. Others de- *' serve only castigation or imprisonment. They *' who think that the gods neglect human affairs, *' and they who think them easily appeased, are not " to be confounded. They who think so not from " any bad principle, but a kmd of madness, should *' be imprisoned not less than five years, without " any citizen being allowed to go near them, except *' those who will admonish them of their errors. If

" after

OF PLATO.

139

** after this they continue in their impiety, they " must be punished with death."

*' Some who are obstinate in these opinions, and *' draw many after them, especially the common " people, whole families, and the state," meaning no doubt, the danger of influencing the u'hole state, *' should be confined in prisons surrounded by the " sea, where no free person should have access to " them, and when they die, they should be buried " without the bounds of the state ; and if any per- " son should bury them, he should be accounted " guilty of impiety. If he had children, they should *' be taken care of by the state from the time that " the father was condemned."

" There should also be a general law to prevent any person from making what gods, or what sa- cred rites, he pleases ; and for this reason no per- sons should ha^•e chapels for worship in their own \

*' houses, but perform their worship in public, and

*' be punished like they do so. If any person, not

*♦ from childishness, but from depraved impiety,

" act In this manner, by sacrificing either in private

** or in the public worship of the gods, let him be

"condemned to death as impure ; and let the re-

*' gulators of the laws judge concerning the mo-

^' tives of his conduct." (De. Leg. Lib. 10.)

#

it

140 OF THE PHlLOSOt'Hy

So intolerant were the wisest aiid be^t dis|Jo'sbd of all the heathens with respect to religion, that we cannot wonder at the dread they entertained of Christianity, M'hen it began to spread, as it was ac- cording to their ideas, the height o^ impiety ; aim- ing at nothing less than the overthrow of every thing that was deemed the most sacred, and wllat had been established from time immemorial, and on which it was uni^^ersally taken for granted that the well being of every state depended.

But Clu'ist was fully aware of this difficulty, and he apprized his followers of it. He enabled them, however, to overcome it, though they w^ere for- warned that they should be hated of all men for the sake of his name, that is, merely for being christi- ans, and that they who killed tliem ivould think they

did God se/-i}ice ; which Vwas actually the case, both with respect to Jews and heathens. And great as this obstacle was, which made all that was powerful in the world the enemy, of Christianity it finally triumphed ; and it is now the prevailing religion in all those countries in which Jupiter, Juno, and numberless other objects of heathen worship, were most revered, but whose names a;re now to be learned from history only. This is an argument of peculiar importance with respect to the evidence

of

OF PLATO. 141

of Christianity, but can only be felt and undcrstoocl by those who are acquainted with the opinions and prejudices of the heathens at the time of its promulgation. And these opinions and preju- dices appear now to be so unreasonable, and extraordinary, tliat a faithful account of them is barely credible- That Plato was both sensible of the great ignorance of die common people on the subject of religion, and of the hazard that might be the consequence of informing them better, appears from his saying (Timseus.) " It is^-^ difficult thing " to discover the nature of the creator of the uni- /

" verse, and being discovered, it is impossible, to " expose the discover}^ to vulgar understandings.

This intolerance in matters of religion is the more extraordinaiy in the case of Plato, as he acknow- ledges the imperfection of the popular religion, when it was first instituted in Greece, and com- i

mends those statemen who improved it, in order to do more honour to their gods ; and as he con- demns such poems as these of Homer and Hesiod, because they led persons, and especially young persons, to entertain unworthy notions of tlieir gods ; when it must have been evident to himself, and every one else, that the popular religion, which he wished to perpetuate, was founded altogether on those verj notions, Hesiod and Homer did not \

make

142 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

make a religion for the Greeks, but only made usc^ of what they found universally received to embel- lish their poems, and to please those before whom they \vere to be recited.

So much was Plato offended at these poems, and all others of the same nature and tendency, that he excluded them all, without exception, from his ccmmonwealth, though he would retain such hymns as were composed in honour of the gods. But even the hymns, if they resembled those ascrib- ed to Homer, or those of Callimachus, are similar to the poems of Hesiod and Homer, repeating the same popular and absurd stories. " We reject," he says (De. Rep. Lib. 2.) "poems from this " commonwealth, because they deceive men, as " Hesiod by his accounts of Coelum and Saturn ; *' which, if they were true, ought to be concealed " rather than divulged. For it must not be told a *' young man, that the greatest crimes may be ^' committed without any thing extraordinary hap- *' pening, or that a man who punishes an offending *' parent does no wrong, but whixt the greatest and " best of the gods have done. The imitation of " the poets," he says, (Dc. Rep. Lib. 3.) " at- *' tended to in early years affects the morals and " nature itself, with respect to the body, the *' speech, and the \^ry thought." Thisv

rt

OF PLATO. 14

This is the more extraordinary in Plato, as he a- S.cribes to the poets a real inspiration, the same that was generally ascribed to the priestesses of Apol- lo at Delphi (Meno.) " Poets who" he says, " re- *' semblethe Corybantes, who are seized with a di- " vine afflatus, and know not Avhat they do. They ^' are the interpreters of the gods." (To.)

Section III. Of the Human Soul.

The sentiments of Plato concerning the human soul are by no means clear and distinct, nor are they pursued by him to their natural consequences, as thev were by the stoics afterwards.

Matter was ah^ays ackno\\ledged to be incapa- ble of any kind oi action, and was always thought to be acted upon ; whereas the igneous nature of the soul was supposed to give it natiu'al activity. A- greeable to this, Plato sayii (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) *' The soul has the power of moving itself."

He is not uniform in denying \\ hat ^\"as called passion to the mind. He must, therefore, mean il in a gross sense when he says (De. Leg. Lib. 10.)

Where there is passion, there must be generati- on ;

y

144 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

" on ; and this applies to the body ," meaning, no doubt that where there is generation, there must be a succession of beings produced from one another, that tlie death of some may make room for others ; whereas mind is incapable of any such thing, and consequently of that kind of passion which leads to it. It must, therefore, be immortal, and in this- doctrine Plato is perfectly unifonn and consist- ent.

*' Every soul," he says (Phoedrus.) " is im- " mortal. That which is always in motion is from •' eternity, but that A\'hich is moved by another " must have an end." Accordingly he mention- ed the prc-cxistence^ as v^^ell as the immortality^ of the soul ; and in the East tliese two doctrines al- ways w ent together, and are always ascribed to Py- thagoras ; the soul and the body being supposed to have only a temporary connection, to answer a par- ticular purpose. " The soul existed," he says (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) " before bodies wereproduc- " ed, and it is the chief agent in the changes and " the ornament of the body."

Agreeably to this doctrine of pre-existence, Pla- to maintained that all the knowledge we seem to acquire here is only the recollection of what we

knew

OF PLATO. 145

"knew in a former state. " It behoves man,'* he says (Phoedrus.) " to understand how many sensati- *' ons are united in one, and this is the recollection *' of what the soul, when in a state of perfection " with God, saw before.'^

So greatly superior, in the idea of all the heathen philosophers, was the soul to the body, the latter being intirely subservient to the former, that we can- not wonder that they consider the soul as the whole sel/of a man, and the body as a thing foi'eign to him. " The mind," Plato says, (De. Leg. Lib. 12.) ** is all that we call ourselves, and die body ** attends it: meaning as a servant. It is only af- *' ter death," he says (De. Rep. Lib. 10.) " when it ** has got rid of the clog of the body, that \vq can

"see what the soul really is; whether com -

** pound or simple, and the whole of its condition." It is on this supposition of the independence of the mind on the body, that he advances one of his ar- guments for the immortality of the soul. " The " soul," he says, (lb.) " cannot die by any afFecti- *' of the body, but only by some disorder peculiar "to itself. The soul by the death of the body ** does not become more unjust, and the death of *' the body is not the punishment of its injustice, *' but other punishments. For death is to it a free*.

K. •* dom

146" or THE P-HILOSOTHV

*' clom from every evil. Since^ dien, neither the " death of the body, nor its own depravity, can *' destroy the soul, it must be immortal."

That the souls of men are emanations from the Supreme Being, the fountain of all intelligence, seems to have been taken for gi'anted by Plato, but I do not fmd it distinctly expressed in any part of his vM'itings. He seems, hov.ever, to allude to it in a passage that I quoted before. But he general- ly considers it as retaining its individuality after death; as when he says (De. Leg. Lib. 12.) "In " truth the soul of each of us is immortal, and "' goes to the other gods, to give an account of its "actions." This agrees with his uniform lan- guage about the rewards of virtue, and the punish- ments of vice, sfter death. Whether souls are to be reunited to their source afterwai'ds, ^vhich he probably supposed, as being held to be the necessary consequence of their being originally derived from it, this retribution he must have thought would previously take place.

With respect to the threefold division ofman^ a docti'ine held by later philosophers, I do not find any thing' clear, or consistent, in Plato. And the term (ipux'^) which in other writers signifies the mere atiimal principle \w man of which they partake

in

or PLATO. 147

common ',vith the brutes, he appUes to the highest principle, that of intelligence in him, when he says ( Alcib. 1.) " The body is not the man, but the soul (ipux,jj) which makes use of, and commands, the body.'*

% Section IV.

Of Virtues and Vices

On the subject of 'oirtiie and vice it may be tak- ken for granted that the sentiments of Plato were not, in general, different from those of Socrates ; so tliat it is unnecessary to make quotations from his writings recommending the practice of virtue, and dissuading from that of vice. His belief in the being and providence of God, and in a future state of retribution, must have laid a foundation for pie- ty, and the practice of virtue in general, if what he advances on those subjects were his real senti- ments ; and the frequency with which he urges them, and the stress that he lays upon them, makes it difficult to beliexe that diey were not.

In these respects he comes nearer to the doctrines of revelation than any other of the heathen philoso- phers that came after him, even than Socrates him- self. But his arguments in proof of the immortal-

K2. ity

248 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

ity of the soul, and also those for a future state, are so weak, and they made so little impression on those that came after him, that it is bai'ely possible that he could have been influenced by them him- self; and his v.ritings in general have much the air of being calculated to please the generality of his countryrftcn, with whom those opinions wers in some sense popular, and to whom they would, of course, telid to recommend him. And it is evi- dent from his history that he was much more desir- ous of general applause than his master. On this account there will always remain some doubt with respect to the real sentiments of Plato on these im- portant subjects. Judging of him by his writings, we cannot w onder that his philosophy was held in such high estimation by many of the more learn- ed of the early cliristians, and that they embraced it in preference to any other.

With respect to the proper objects of men's pursuits in life, Plato says (Philebus) that " nei- *' ther pleasure, nor wisdom, are to be ranked with *' things that are absolutely ^oo^, because what is *' good is perfect, and sufficient of itself," which, he observes will not apply to either of them. But he was far from entertaining the extravagant opinion of the Stoics, in classing both pleasure and pain a-

mong

OF PLATO. 149

ttlong the things that are absolutely indifferent, un- worthy of tlie attention of a wise man, and incapa- ble of affecting him.

There are tliree remarkable exceptions to the moral maxims of Plato, in which he would not have had the concun^nce of Socrates, viz. his re- commending a community of women in his com- monwealth, his approbation of perjuror 141 matters of love, and in the licentiousness which he would allow soldiers on a militarj^ expedition.

How little must Plato have known of human nature, and human life, w^hen he recommended a community of women in his republic (De. Rep. Lib. 5.) and an education of them the same with men and together with them, even so far as to ex- ercise in the gymnasia naked ; saying that nothing that was useful ought to be deemed shameful, that in former times it was thought shameful for men to exercise naked, but that now it was no longer so. Being naturally capable of doing many of the du- ties of men, such as serving their country both in the ai-my and in civil offices, tliey ought, he says to receive an education proper to qualify them for those, though they should be exempted from what was most laborious in any of those offices. By

K 3, tliis

150 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

this means, and sexual commerce being confined to a proper age, wliich he makes to be thirty for for men, and t\venty for women, a more hardy race of men he says, would be produced.

These healthy women being accessible to more men, he says, would have more children, though this now appears to be, by a wise providence, con- trary to fact, as prostitutes have seldom any chil- dren at all. The children thus promiscuously produced he would have nursed and educated to- gether, the stronger, hoMever, in one place, and the weaker in another by women engaged by the state for that purpose, without giving them any in- timation concerning their pai'cnts. He would not> however, allow of any sexual intercourse between men and theii- own mothers or daughters, &c. But it is not necessary to follow him through all the details of so visionar}-^ and absurd a scheme.

Indeed, the objections to this scheme are so ob- vious, and so numerous, that it is not worth while to enter into any serious discussion of it. I would only observe that if frequent divorces have been found, as is universally acknowledged, to be attend- ed with much evil, a community of women, which it has always been the very first step of civilization to prevent, must be attended with infinitely more, and greater. f With

or PLATO. 151

With how much more wisdom did our Saviour forbid even divorces except on account of adultery. When the change of a partner for life is considered as impossible, the most discordant minds reconcile themselves to it, and live togedier more happily than if they had the liberty to separate, ^vhich, in tliat case, they would upon every trifling disgust be thinking of, and contriving ; and this being the case of a whok society, jealousy, and violence in every form, would be unavoidable.

Besides, no mode of education is equal to that which arises from" the affection of parents to their own children, and the attachment of children to ' their parents. This is a source of the purest satis- faction to both, and to the verj^ close of life. And what has any parent to look to in the infirmities of old age comparable to the affection and attention that he may reasonably expect from his own chil- dren? What a miserable legislator must that be, who would deprive mankind of the purest source of domestic happiness for any advantage of a politi- cal nature? Besides, what is the great object of all true policy ; but to p\Q men the secure posses- sion of their private rights, and individual enjoy- ments?

K4. The

152 «F TKE PHILOSOPHY

The second great objection to the moral niaximS of Plato is his allowing of perjury in matters of love. *' The laws of God," he says, (Convivium.) " allow of oaths," meaning a breach of oaths, " ia " affairs of love. God," he says, (Hippias Major.) " pardons tliose who perjure themselves with re- '' spect to love, as if they were children, and did " not know what they did." It appears too that the laws of Athens took no cognizance of these oaths. But the law of God, in our scriptures, makes no such distinction. It requires the strict- est performance of every oath.

Plato in his books on the Republic, censures with much seveiitv the vice of Sodomv, which was too generally practiced in Greece. *' We must ab- " stain," he says, (De. Leg. Lib. 8.) " from all ^' commerce with males. For this is being worse *' than bu'ds and beasts, among which the males " have no commerce with other males, but with "females only; and if it be not concealed from " both men and women, the criminal may be pu- ^' nished by deprivation of all civil offices, and be *' treated like a foreigner." This, however, is prescribing a very mild and inadequate punishment for the most abominable of crimes-

Notwithstanding, this he says, (De. Rep. Lib.

5.)

•P PLATO 153

5.) that *' on an expedition soldiers should be al- " lowed unbounded licence both with respect to " women and boys, as by this means they will be ** more inflamed to gain the victor}^" meaning that with the expectation of this indulgence they will be more ready to enlist, and to eng-age in any hazai'dous enterprize.

The laws of Moses and of God relating to ^^'ar are very different from this. According to them, wherever men are, in peace or in wai-, the same rules of morality are binding upon them, and the same punishment awaits the infringmentof theui.

Section V.

Of Deaths and the Consequence of it.

In what Plato says on the subject of death, and the consequence of it, we see die stress that he laid on tlie practice of Virtue in general, though with- out distinguishing particular virtues or vices \ and if he may be understood litCKally, his sentiments are decidedly in favour of a future state of retribu^ lion, in which individuals will retain their separate consciousness, at least till their proper rewards or punishments are cojnpleted. But much of what

K5. - ha

V

154 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

he advances on this subject has such a mixture of imagination, and of popular notions, tliat many persons entertain doubts of his writing what he re- ally thought.

*' It js impossible," he says, (Epii.) " that there " should be much happiness in this life ; but there *' is great hope tliat after death ever\^ person may *' obtain the things that he most wishes for. Nor " is this new, but known both to the Greeks and *' Barbai'ians." This is the only passage that I have found in the writings of Plato in which he lays any stress on the argument from general con- sent, or tradition, in favour of the reality Of a fu- ture state ; and here he intimates some degree of doubt, by only saying that there is great hope with respect to it. In other places he expresses more.

*' In truth," he says, (De. Leg. Lib. 12.) " the " soul of each of us is immortal, and goes to other " gods, to give an account of its actions, as the laws *^' of our country express ; which gives the greatest " confidence to good men, and terror to the wick- ^'^ed, lest they should sufter the greatest punish- " ments after death for the crimes committed in ** this life. A happy man," he says, (Epin.) '' will " learn all that he can from nature, persuaded that " tlius he will live most happily, and when he dies

"he

it

It

OF PLATO. 155

" he will go to a place suited to his virtue ; and be- ** ing thus truly initiated, and having acquired *' true wisdom, will pass the rest of his life in the *' contemplation of the most beautiful objects. *' Justice is the best reward of the soul, and we ^* should not envy it those rewards of justice and *' universal virtue, which God has prepared for it " in this hfe, or the next." " The gods," he adds, " must know who are just, and who are unjust, *' and must love the one and hate the other, and they

will give to their friends every good that is in their

power." (De. Rep. Lib. 10.)

Plato introduces one of his speakers in (De. Leg. Lib. 10.) addressing a young man licentious- ly disposed indie following manner. " O young " man, who think that you are overlooked by tlie *' gods, consider that there is a scat of justice with *' the gods who dwell in heaven, that they v/ho cU-e " wicked may join the wicked, and they who arc " good may join the good, in life and in death, and " do and suffer what others like them do and suf- <* fer. Neither, therefore, do you, or any other *' person, presume that you Avill be happ}', so as to *' escape, or brave the justice, of God. You are " not overlooked by him, though you should go to *' the bottom of the earth, or ascend into the hea-

" vens,

156 OF THE PHILOSOPHY'

*' vens, but shall suffer according to your deserts, ** whether here, in the infernal regions, or in some *' distant place.'* This, however, being the ad- dress of an old citizen to a young one, may be no- thing more than popular language, calculated to reclaim him from his vices, which would be inju- rious to the state ; using such arguments, as whe- dier diought to have any weight by the speaker or not, might make some impression on die hearer.

The state of those \A'ho die in batde, in the ser- vice of their country, Plato gives on the authority of Hesiod ; sajang, (De. Rep. Lib. 5.) " If Hesi- *' od may be believed, the}^ become terrestrial de- *' mons, expellers of evil, and the guardians of *' mankind." For this, therefore, he does not make himself responsible.

In his Phoedrus Plato a:ives such an account of die state of sou Is after death, with the various peri- ods of their purifications and transmigrations, as it is possible he might have heard in the East, but such as it was impossible he could be in earnest in professing his belief of.

*' Souls do not," he says, " return to the source *'from which diey came in less than ten thousand ** years. For they do not recover their wings till

" that

Ob PLATO. 157

« lat time, except the souls of those who truly " philosophize, and who love boys," (meaning probably sensuiil pleasure in general) " and wis- " dom at the same time. These perform it in tlie " third cu'cuit of a thousand years ; if after this '^ they three times ehuse this life, thus recovering *' their wings after three tliousand years. But other *' souls are judged after the first term of life, some *' of them going to a place of judgment under tlie " earth, to suffer according to their deserts, others " ascending to a place in the heavens suited to their *' merit when they were in the form of men. These, *' after a thousand years take their choice again^ *' some the life of a brute, and again that of man, " provided it had formerly been the soul of a man. " For souls that have not seen truth camiot assume *' that form." This particular period of three thousand years Herodotus had from the priests of Eg}^t, who said that " when the soul had gone " through bodies of every kind, terrestial, ma- " rine, and also those of birds, it entered again into *' that of a man, and that this was accomplished in the space of three thousand years. This ac- " count," he adds, " some Greeks, whpse names *' he fofebore to mention, claim as their own.'^ {Ub.2.ch. 123. Euterpe.)

stm

<(

158 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

Still less can we think Plato to have given any credit to the following very absurd relation, which, however, he recites at full length (De. Rep. Lib. 10.) and without intimating any doubt of its truth. It is the story of one Eris, of Armenia, who after having lain dead on the field of battle twelve days, came to life, and then related what he said he had seen in the infernal regions, the whole agreeable to the fables of the poets, with many absurd additi- ens ; as that of the souls of particular persons chus- ijig to pass into the bodies of different animals, that of Ajax into a lion, that of Orpheus into a swan, from his hatred of women, that of Thamyris into a nightingale, and that of Agammemnon into an ea- gle, &c. &c.

As Plato's account of a future state has such a mixture of fancy and fable, and so little support from argument, his declaration of his belief of it will admit of much doubt, as well as what he says of the immortality of the soul in genes^l. They were Eastern doctrines, to this day firmly believed by the Hindoos and others, though Plato gives no intimation whence he had them. But excepting this doubtful case of Plato himself, they never gain- ed any degree of credit in the West.

How happy, then, should wc think ourselves,

and

OF PLATO. 159

and how thankful to God, for the glorious light of the gospel, which leaves us under no doubt or un- certainty with respect to a future life in general, or the different conditions of the righteous and the wicked in it ; and especially for that most satisfac- tory evidence of it in the death and resurrection of Jesus, as furnishing at the same time ^ proofs and also a pattern of a future universal resurrection ; when all that are in the granges shall hear the voice of the son of man and come forth ^ some to the resur- rection of life^ and others to that of condemnation ; and when all men shall receive according to their ivorks. What weight has the mere opinion of Plato, or that of any heathen philosophers, admit- ting them to have been ever so much in earnest, compared to this ?

We find nothing in our scriptures concerning the fanciful doctrine o^ pre-existence, or of the state of souls separate from the body ; but are assured that as the man dies, the whole man shall rise again, with a perfect recollection of all that he had done, and therefore satisfied with respect to the state to which he will be sentenced corresponding to it. And this is all that we are at present concerned to know. It follows from this that we shall know our friends as well as ourselves. Jesus assured

his

"foww^m^

160 or THE philosophy, &c.

his apostles, that then they should be ivhh hini ^hcre'uer he should be, and see and partake of his glory, and that this will also be shared by all who belieiie on him through their word, that is all sin- cere christians to the end of the world. We are al- so assured that all those who shall suffer with him shall also reign with him for e^er, Wliat ample encouragement is this to a life of virtue, and how will it enable us to bear all the troubles of this life, and the pains of death, be they what they may, with such an expectation. This is such hope and joy set before us, as was set before Jesus himself, and by which he was enabled to bear his cross, and to make no account of the shame of that ignominious, as well as painful, death.

OF

161

0 F

THE PHILOSOPHY Of

ARISTOTLE.

INTRODUCTION,

A.

.RISTOTLE was the dlscipk of Plato, but lis appears to have been greatly superior to him, and indeed to all the other Grecian philosophers, in ge- nius and P'ood sense. Pie had also coiisiJerabie advantage from having been tutor to Alexander tlie Great, and from being assisted by him in the study of nature, which was wholly neglected by all the other philosopliers ; as they connned "them- selves to subjects of mere speculation, which re- quires little or no knowledge of external things.

Aristotle, however, himself follo\^ ed them too closely in their ovv^n track ; and he seems to have taken great pleasure in collecting, and confuting, all their sentiments ; in so much that, if he could

be depended upon, it would be easy to ascertain the

L. opinions

162 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

opinions of all the piliiosopIlcr^> Avho had preceded him. But he is said to have greatly misrepresent- ed them, in order to make it the more easy for him to expose and confute them, which it is evident he ' took much pleasure in doing, that his own opinions might appear the more original and respectable. Never perhaps, was so much genius employed on more useless subjects than in all that we see in the greater part of the writings of Aristotle. The works of Thomas Aquiiias, and the christian schoolmen, are, in diis respect, far inferior to his ; but the subjects are much more important, and the trifling, as well as the subtlety, less.

Though the reading of the disquisitions of Aris- totle on theological and metaphysical subjectsbe un- speakably tiresome, so that, probabl)% no person in this age, Avho has any proper idea of the value of his time, will ever read a tenth part of them ; many of his conclusions, and summaries, are clear and striking ; far more so than those of Plato, without affecting his sublimity, the ait of his dialogues, or the elegance of his style ; his aim seeming to have been nodiing more than to express his own ideas, such as they were, in tlie most intelligible lan- guage. At least, so it appears to me, notwith- standmg his acknowledging to Alexander, that

though

or ARISTOTLE. 163

tlioLigh he had published his opinions, the}' were in fact not published, as only those w ho had been par- ticularly instructed by him could understand them.

This may be ti'ue with respect to some of his VTitings, but it certainly is not so with respect to tlie generality of them ; and of this the extracts that I shall make from many of them will enable the reader to judge for himself, in what he writes con- cerning the Supreme Being, the human soul, and tlie nature of virtue and vice ; which are all tliat^ in this work, I propose to consider ; as nothiiig else in the writings of the heathen philosophers is of such a nature as that it can be brought into compa- rison with the doctrine of our scriptures ; since tlie bulk of their \\Titings relate to subjects which -probably never entered the thoughts of any of the sacred writers, and indeed were the least important in themselves, being frivolous in the extreme.

It has been usual to class Aristotle among Jf/ie- ists, and his wi'itings, as translated and commen::ed upon by Aven-oes, in a later period, were the gr-at source of modern atheism and infidelity ; but I do not see any pretence for this charge in the writings of Aristotle himself. Yav m them the Being and

L 2. .8:erieral

154 fil* THE PHILOSOPHY

g-eneral provideRce of Gbd are more distinctly as- sertcd than in the wntin,^'S of Plato ; and what is partici'larly remarlcable is, that, whereas Plato uses the term G^// and o-c?^^- promise ii on sly, the latter never, I believe, occurs in any of the v/orks of A- ristotle, excent once in his treatise on riches and vices, in which he evidently ahudes to the popular reliu-iori. In all his serious writing's he uses t'ler term^W(3s(gv) and never any other that imphes pluralitv. And vet in tfiis he was not folIoAved hv the stoicsy or any other philosophers. If he w^ s an atlici&t, he must not only have concealed, but h4vc denied, and confuted^ his own opinions in ma- ny parts of liis writings, when he had not the least occasion to do it, as they are not calculated, as thoL>e of Plato evidently were, for the generality of readers. They are also written in such a manner as not to be at all inviting to readers in general, in- dependently of the extreme abstrusenessof the sub- ject; so that they could only have been read by persons vvell versed in the philosophy of the times. Besides^ it is of more importance to my object ta ascertain what were the opinions of the readers, than those of the v/riters ;, and those are most like- ly to he found in such of their works as were cal- culated for general use. To my object the private

senti-

Gt ARISTOTLE. 165

sentiments of any particular man, and such as he did not think proper to divulge, or cxphiin, rjc of 110 consequence \\hate\er. I w ant to ascertain tho -opinions of the disciples, and of the sect in gci^cral.

Section I.

Of the Biing^ the Attributes^ and the P roij'idcTic:; ^

of God.

The reader, I am confident^ v/iil be surprised, as well as pleased, with many passages in tlie varioui ^mtings of Aristotle, expressing his opinions con- cerning the nature, the attributes, and the provi- dence of God. *' God," he says, (De Mundo. cap. 6.) " is the most powerful Being, immoital, *' and of perfect virtue, and though by nature in- *' visible to all perishable things, he is seen in his " works, as in the air, in the earth, and in the wa- *' ter , for whatever is done in them is the work of *' God."

He expresses his approbation (Met. Lib. xii. cap. 7.) of those who say, that '* God is from eterni- *' ty, and the best of Beings, and that life, and a ** continuance of existence, is in him." So far •was Aristotle from representing God as of the same

L 3. rank

166 ©F THE PHILOSOPHY

rank and nature Vv itn the heavenly bodies, or from e;ivir,g any portion of divinity to them, that he says, (De. Miindo. cap. 6.) "God conducts the stars " according to number," that is, v>ith regularity, " and that on this account he may be called their " Coryphoeus."

Aristotle was even a professed advocate for the unity of God, and as I have observed before, he ne- ver, in expressing his own sentiments, uses the term gods^ but ah.vays that of God. " There is," he says, (De Mundo. cap. 7.) " but one God, " though he has obtained many names, according " to his different attributes. By the appellations of " ( Z-^v ) and ( Aid ) united is signified that in him we live. He is Saturn, and Chronos, as hav- ing existed from eternity. " He is also called the " thunderer, the giver of rain, &:c. It can only be ** God that is to be understood in the Orphic " hymns. He is also called Fate, from things pro- " ceeding in a connected series; and Nemesis, as " posseii,ed of a divine power, which he exercises " as he pleases; Adrastias, as the cause of every " thing in nature, which no person can deceive or " avoid ; and iEsas, because he exists always. "■ What is said of the Parcoe must be explained *' in the same manner. Finally, God, holding the

" begin-

OF ARISTOTLE. 167

" beginning, the middle, and the end of all things, *' operates according to nature, accompanied by ''justice, called ( A;;i"// ) the vindicator of the di- *' vine law when it is violated. And he who v. ould " obtain a happy life must be a partaker of divinity "from the beginning;" meaning, that he must derive it from God.

The popular opinion of a multiplicity of gods, Aristotle explains in the following manner, (Met. Lib. xii. cap. 8.) " The heavens (ovpccv,^) are one, *' but it has been handed down to us by our ances- *' tors, and the antients, and left in the form of fi- *' gure to posterity, that these avQ ^ods, and. that e- *' very part of nature has divinity in it. Other ** things too of a fabulous nature are told to the " multitude, to induce them to obev the laws. For *' they say that the gods are in the form of men, *^ and of other animals," &.c.

Aristode's doctrine concerning the providence of God he introduces Ij}- an account of an old traditi- on, which he says prevailed among their ancestors and all men, that " e\ery thing was made by God " and out of God." He adds, as from the same tradition, which is better founded, that " nothing '' can be well or safely conducted, without his care '' and providence," (De Mundo. cap. 6.)

L4.. His

163 or THE PHILOSOF^tr

His account cf the relation that God bears to the world, as its supreme gOA-ernor, is peculiarl}'^ strik- mg- ; considering the little light tlic heathens had on this most important subject. " What the pilot is ' in a ship," he says, (De. Mundo. cap. 6.) " What

the charioteer is in his chariot, \\4iat the prccen- " tor is in a chorus, \\hat the lav/ is in a state, or a " general in his army, God is in the world. What '• manifold labour, motion, and care, would there " be Without this." " 'Whci-eas with him every '^ tiling succeeds without labour, Avithout trouble, *' or infirmity of body. For, being situated in a " steady and immoveable situation, every thing is *' moved at his i)leasure, according to the different " forms and natures of things. In this he resem- " bles tliekw in a state, which, being immoveable, " governs eveiy thing in the state, all the magis- *' trates having their proper place and province un- *' der it. But he is greatly superior to, and more " stable than, our laws. For by him the whole *' world of lieaven is adminisitered and governed. '^' All animals obey his laws, and even reptiles that " feed upon the eaith."

It will be seen in the following passage that Aris- totle liad not the same, or equally just, ideas of the operations and providence ofGod that v\ e ai'e taught

in

\

or ARISTOTLE. 160

in our scriptures. " God," he says, (De, Mumlo. cap. 6.) " is the preserver of every ihiiig tliat is " done in the world, and also the author of it, with- *' out being affected by weariness, as a human ** workman, or an animal, and of things at a dis- " tance, as well as near. For having his seat in " the highest region, from which he is called the " supreme (T7ra7@H) those bodies v/hichare nearest *' to him feel the most of his power ; but I cannot " think him concerned in things that are low and "mean; but that rather, like the king cf Persia, '' he knows and acts bv his assents. Thus he moves " the sun, and moon, and the -vvliole heavens, and " is theauthor of every thing thit is safe and saluta- *' ry in the world. Not that he stands in need of •' the assistance of others, as he does every thing " without difficulty, with a simpk" motion," (De Mundo. cap. 6.)

• I would observe on this, that philosophy, as well as true piety, considers every thino- in the universe | \

as, in a proper sense, equal in the eye of God, who made the smallest things as well as the greatest, as equally subservient to his pui*})ose, Moses rq^re- sents him as having: made bv the exertion of the same power, reptiles as well as men, the grass of the fields as well as the largest trees, and all these

L 5. as

170 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

as well as the sun, moon, and stars. " He said, let *' them be, and they rose into existence-" David represents all animals, as well as men, as equally- dependent upon God, even for their daily food ; when he says the lions roar oi^sr their prey, and seek their meat from God ; that he feedcth the ravens y ivhen they cry, and that all creatures ha^oc their eyes lip unto him, and lie satisfies the desire of e'uery li-v- ing thing. Agreeably to this, Jesus says a spar- row falls not to the ground without him, and it is he that so beautifully clothes tlie lillies of the field.

So incomprehensible has the doctrine of the uni- versal presence, and constant agency, of one mind been thought by the generality of mankind, who are apt to judge of all intellects by their own, that m.any of the most intelligent and speculative of men have thou gilt it necessaiy to provide him with some assistant, or assistants, in his cxtensi^^e and vai'ious operations. Ilcnce the origin of idolatry' in general, from its being thought absolutely impos- sible that one mind should comprehend, and at- tend to, every thing. Hence the ideas of Plato were improved into the notion o^ a second God, the (Av;^/oi'p7>^^) or immediate agent in the work of cre- ation ; and hence also the christian logos, as a Be- ing separate from the deity, and the still prevailing

opinion,

OF ARISTOTLK. 171

opinion, that it was not God the Father, but Christ, who made the Avorld, and the universe in general. Aristotle, therefore, must be excused in adopting this idea, as he was not singular in it. It also ap- peared to many others, as well as to him, that it was more honourable to the Supreme Being to suppose him not to be immediately concerned in any thing, tliat is low or mean.

Even some clii-istian philosophers seem still to be intangledin this idea, Avhen they speak of the opera- tion o^ general laws, ^s, if they could relieve the de- ity from any part of his immediate agency. For what are laws, or general rules, in the hands of those who have no power to execute them ? Why should ^ stone, for example, mo\'e to\\'ards the earth? It is said, by the law of gravity. But what is that law, or any other la\v of nature, without a power of agency? There must, therefore, be an universal agency of the author of nature through the whole extent of his w^^rks, the meanest, as they appear to us, as well as the greatest. And what we call ge- neral laws cannot be any thing else than his general mode of acting, or exerting his power and irjflu- ence. Incomprehensible as this must ever appear to us, it is not the only circumstance relating to tho Supreme Being that is so. In fact, all his attri-

butse,

\

/

172 or THE j'KiLosopnr

butes, and especially his eteniLil and necessary ex- istence must ever be so to finite miiids, ihat is, to all Beings except to hi?n.&elf.

There is another work, ascribed to Aristotle, not now extant in Greek, but said to IiJ-.ve been trans- lated from tne Greek into Aiabic, and then from the Arabic into the Li^tln, in Vvhicli ;re now Live it.; purporting to contain tlie ilccti-inc of the Egypti- ans concerning God and nature, which I have nci yet quoted ; De secretiore parte divinae saj^enti^ secundum iEgypti OS. (Lib. 14.) Indeed, it ap- pears highly improbable that Aristotle should have written the whole of it, though the minuteness and subtlety of the discussions contained in it very much resemble his usual manner of writing.

Some of the sentiments in this work could not have been either those of Aristotle, or of any sect of philosophers, ^Egyptian or others, that existed in his time, especially Avhat he says concerning the word of God. " The express word of God," (Lib* X. cap 19.) " is the cause of all causes, and such " was the opinion of the Babylonians." *' Again, *' the tfue, word of divine wisdom (Lib. xiv. cap. " 12.) is the most powerful of all. Who then can

'' comprehend its majesty and power ? It is as that

"of

Oi' ARISTOTLE. 17

<y

*' of a prince. In this woixl every thing is to be " seen, and iiom this all pov/er of procreatioa " flows."

There are, hovv^e\'^er, two passages in tliis work, which, as being sufiicicntly agreeable to the senti- -ments of Aristotle quoted above, may deserve to be recited. " God," he sa3's (Lib. iii. cap. 3.) *' kr.owsail things, past, present, and to come, as *' their maker and governor, himself remaining " without motion." This, however, is not per- fect! v agreeable to the sentiments of Aiistotle, as we kive seen. The next passage is not consistent wAh. itself, as it represents the Divine Being as hav- in'?: pr(JL.riiced every thing first without any instru- meatalifcy oi other beings and then widi it.

■J o

"The Supreme Creator (Artifcx) iniitates nd '^ftlireated bcmg, but produces forms inimitable by '* any. Nor does he make use of any instrument *' in this, but performs every thing by his own "■power. God, therefore, v.hose name be exalt- '■ ed, produced the universe without any consulta- " tion, or wanderin^^ of thought. He first produc- '* ed an only substance, viz. '.he acting mfelkct, '' which he adorned w-'*h light most bright, and " most excellent of all created things, and by this *' intermediate Being the highest orb \fas produced,

" whicL

174 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

" which contains intelligence and souls. By the " same are changes made in the lower world." (Lib. xiv. cap. 15.) The clause, ii)ho^e name he praised, introduced after the mention of that of God, is evidently not heathen, but the language of a Jew, or a Mahometan.

Notwithstanding the justness of Aristotle's sen- timents in general, concerning the being, and espe- cially of the providence, of God, he was so entang- led by his metaphysical maxims, that he did not make him \h^ first moiier in die universe ; but as- signed this province, seemingly the most important of all, to something independent of him ; but to this first mo\'er he ne\ er attributes any proper in- telligence. " The first mover," he says, (Phys. Lib. viii. cap. 10.) " itself simple, and immovea- " ble, but moving other bodies in infinite time, has *' neither parts nor magnitude ; since nothing finite " can have moved in infinite time, and magnitude *' cannot be infinite." To support this, he main- tains at large (De Anima. Lib. i. cap. 3.) diat it is not necessary that that which is the mover should itself ha^e any motion. "By a simple nod of the " first mover," he says (De Coelo. Lib. i. cap. 2.) " all compound substances are moved, being their " superior and master."

But

c

OF ARISTOTLE.

175

But it 13 surely difficult to form any idea of a be- ing, or substance, at the same time without magni- tude, and ^^'ithout motion, and also without intelli- gence, whatever he meant by the nod abovementi- oned ; for this he gives exclusi\'ely to God, who, according to him, was active from all eternity. Be- ing, however, satisfied that something must ha\e existed from eternity, and that ^vhateve^ was moved must have had boih a mover, and a beginning of motion, he was necessai-ily led to think that the first Being must have been immoveable j and as he must have been from eternity, he must, according to the other of his metaphjsical maxims, have been without magnitude, which he says is necessarily fi- tiite. But these were only metaphysical and vague notions, which do not appear to have materially af- fected his general ideas concerning the being of God, his attributes, or his providence, on which he enlarges greatly, and seemingly with much satis- faction.

Section

176 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

/ /

Section II. Of the human S^ul.

Though Aristotle writes very largely concerning the soul, and, according to his custom, proposes and answers a vaiiety of subtle questions relating to it, his sentiments on the subject are by no means e- vident, except that they are difFerent from those of Plato, who preceded him, and those of the Stoics who came after hin?. Indeed, on all subjects he seems to have taken pleasure in differing from all others, and appearing as the author of a system of his own.

Though Aristotle did not, with many other phi- losophers, consider the soul as the whole o^a mari^s self he. acknowledged it to be the principal pail of a man. {ocpyj) " It is so," he says (De Ajiima. Lib. i. cap. 1.) "of all animals. The intellect '' (lb. Lib. iii.cap. 4.) is immiscible with the body, " but the latter has its senses, as the instruments of it/' He did not think sb meanly of the body as not to be of opinion that it had some properties in com- mon

OF ARISTOTLE. 175

mon with the soul. " The soul," he says (De An'ima. Lib. i. cap. 1.) " has all its affection in *' common with the body, as anger, gentleness, *' compassion, confidence, joy, hatred, and lastly " love ; because in all these cases the body suffers *' as well as the mind."

The motion of the intellect is always said to con- sist in thinkings so that when this operation ceases the soul ceases to exist. He, therefore says, (.'Egypt. Lib. viii. cap. 4.) "the intellect is al- " ways in motion, and an equable one."

According to a metaphysical distinction of Aris- totle, and I believe peculiar to him, every substance consists o^ matter -and/orm. '' What then," says he " is the essence of the soul" (.Egypt. Lib. xii. cap. 13.) " If it is said to h^form, it is said v/isely ** and rationall}', being part of the compound, and *' not the whole." These two last quotations are from that work of Aristotle which I have observed to be of doubtful authority. I find, however, a better (though the account is not so clear) in his (De Anima. Lib. iii. cap. 4.) where he says, " They think justly who are of opinion that the *' soul is to be classed with forms. It is not, ho^ve. " ver, wholly place, but intellectual, nor does it con- ** sist in act^ but in the poiver of the forms. ' ' This

M. last

176 OF THE PHILOSOPHr

last expression is to me wholly unintelligible. Bat the opinion that the soul is the form of the bo- dy, ^^ hate^'cr was really meant by it, was the com- mon language first of the christian Aristotelians, and then of unbelievers, on the revival of the Aris- totelian philosophy in the West. It was condemn- ed at the twelfth council of Lateran.

Like all other philosoi)hers, Aristotle considered the soul as consisting of different parts, each having its peculiar functions. "Nothing," he says (De Auima. Lib. ii. cap. 2.) "is very clear concerning " the intellectual or contemplative part of the soul ; " but it seems to be another kind of soul, and that ** this is separable" (meaning from its other facul- ties) " immortal, and incorruptible. The soul" he says," is divisible (Mag. Mor. Lib. i. cap. 5.) *' into two parts, that which has reason, and that " which is without reason, (which he must have " learned from the Pythagoreans.) In thepait which *' has reason, are the virtues of prudence, Masdom, " genius, memory, &c. but in the part which has not " reason, temperance, fortitude, justice, andwhat- " ever else is praise worthy in the class of virtues ; " since on account of these we are deemed worthy of " praise." Here he gives to a part of the soul the same properties that other philosophers more gene- rally

^ 6F ARISTOrtE. 17'/

rally give to the animal part of man, of which, how- ever, he makes no distinct inention, though he docs of another part, vi^hich he calls 'ut'^d'/cz^f/^'C', not ac- knowledged by any others ; who in their definitions of man never descend lower than the principle of animal nature. "A part of the soul,' he says (De Anima. Lib* ii. cap^ 2.) " we call vegative, *' of which plants partake, for the soul is (a;px,>j) *' the principle of all vegetative, sensation intellect *' and motion."

What Aristotle is represented as saying In the doubtful treatise mentioned before, favours the idea which prevailed at the revival of his philosophy, of a common principle oj life and motion, tho^ not di- rectly, o^ intelligence, pervading all nature, and re- solvable into its source at the death of each inui\i- dual. "Plants and animals," he sajs (.'Egypt. Lib, viii. cap. 2.) " besides that soul which is pe- " culiar to each, enjoy the life of the common soul ; *' because they cannot gi^e aliment to cthei-s with- " out parting with their own lives. Tlie first au- " thor of form," he says (lb.) " gave reason to the " common soul." He even says that this is the principle of life, though he does not call it a soul. It is in all the elements, " in fire, air, and water." Here however he allows a separate individual soul

M 2. to

178 OF THE PHILOSOPHY >

to each, besides a participation in tlie common sov.l.

The doctrine of the pre- existence of sotifs and of their descent into mortal bodies, I do not find men- tioned in any of the genuine writings of Aristotle ; but it is mentioned in the doubtful treatise quoted above, in the exordium to which he says (iEgypt. Lib. i. cap. 1.) " We shall then describe the de- " scent of souls into bodies, and their ascent.'* But I do not find that he does tliis in any part of this treatise.

Concerning the state of the soul, or of the man, after death, Aristotle is nearly silent ; and what he does say, or rather hint, is expressive of much doubt. " If any thing," he says (De Mpribus, Lib. i. cap. IL) " be enjoj-edby the dead, whetlier " good or evil, it must be very little, either in it- " self, or to them ; not sufiicient to make them " happy or unhappy, who were not so before.'* This with respect to the souls, or the shades, of the virtuous, is pretty nearly the sentiment which Homer puts into the mouth of Achilles in the Ely- sian fields ; who says, he had rather be a slave to the meanest person upon earth, than king of all in the regions below.

Section

t)F ARISTOTLE. 179

a,

I

Section III. Of Happiness, and of Virtue and Vice,

Aristotle's ideas of happiness, and of things tliat should be classed among goods or cn^ih, are very- different from those of the Stoics who came after him, and, as may be inferred from what he says, those of many who preceded him ; but they are far more agreeable to reason and the common sense of mankind.

Inconsequence of his making more account of the body than other philosopers of liis time did, he justly observes (De Moribus. Lib, i. cap 4.) that " if good be one^ wiiich he says is the common opi- " nion, or a thing separate from every other, and in- " dependent of every odier, it cannot be procured *' by man, or depend upon any actions of his. '' Some kinds of good," he says, (Mag. Mor. Lib. i. cap. 3.) " relate to the soul, and the virtues, and '' some to the body, as health, beauty, and other ex- " ternal things, opulence. Sec. It is agreed by *' all," he says, (Eudem. Lib. vi. cap. 13.) " that *^' grief (AuTTi;) is an evil, and to be avoided. For ** whatever is to be avoided is an evil, and v/hatever

M3. "is

180 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

** is to be pursued is a good. It is not easy" he fartlier says, " for him to be completely happy, who ** is either remarkably deformed, or of mean condi, *' tion, or Vvho li^'es a solitary life, or is without " children } and much less if he have children. jhat " are very profligate. Some, therefore, place hap- *' pniess in outward pros|:)erity, and some in virtue. ■■ He, therefore, must- be pronounced happy, who '-'■ is both virtuous, and possessed of external ?] ^' goods." (De Moribus. Lib. i, cap. 9 and cap. 11.) In this opinion he would now, I believe, have the n-encral concurrence of mankind.

On the subject of 'virtues and 'vices, the ideas of Aristotle are peculiar to liimself, but he was cer- tainly at liberty to make his own definitions, though ihis may lead to mistake \\hen they are different from those that are commonly received.

Now virtue is, I believe, universally considered as the property of the soul, independent of any thing relatinri: to the bod}', and only on the will and inten- tion, arising from the inward disposition of the mind. But it is not so with Aristotle. He consi- ders every circumstance that is reputable, and that makes a man appear to advantage in the eyes of others, as a virtue, (apiJ^O ^"d tvcry thing that is disreputable, as a vice. His general definition (De

Virtutibus.)

<( <(

OF ARISTOTLE. 181

Virtutibus.)' is that whatever is commendable is

virtuous, and vice the contrary.

Thus, under the head of liberality, besides what

we call generosity^ he includes " neatness in dress, elegance in a house," and tliis, he says, " with- out any regard to utility. He also is to be classed amongthe liberal who keeps animals for pleasure,

*' or for the sake of being admired. "

After mentioning Plato's division of the soul in- to three parts, he assigns the virtues peculiar to each of them. " Of the rational pm-t of man," he says, *' the virtue is prudence, of the animal " [Bvuosi^cva-) the virtues are gentleness, and forti- *' tude ; of the concupiscible part, {s7ri9viJiYJI^.Kov) " the virtues of temperance and continence ; and " those of the whole soul are justice, liberality, and *' magnanimity," (De Virtutibus et Vitiis.) I do not, however, find the above mentioned division of the faculties of the soul in the works of Plato.

Aristode's ideas of justice were much more ex- ,tensive than those of most other philosophers, or perhaps those of statesmen. *' The first justice," he says) (De Virtutibus) respects the gods ; die " next the demons; then those relating to our coun- " try and our parents, and the last the dead, in

M 4. " which

182 cr THE rniLosopHY

" v.hich is included piety, which is either a part of " justice or follows it."

This is the only passage in the works of Aristotle in which mention is made of gods, and here he evidently means such gods as were acknowledg- ed by his couptr}^ However, the neglect or con- tempt of these rites of worship, whatever they were, he would have punished. " It is injustice," he adds, (lb.) " to violate the custom and institution *' of our countiy, and not to obey the laws and the "magistrates." This includes the principle of persecution for religious opinions and practices, which Aristotle, no doubt, held, in common with all the philosophers and magistrates of his time, so that nothing better could reasonably be expected of him.

Thus we have seen the result of the speculation,

and laborious researches, of the most acute and sa- gacious of all the Grecian philosophers, of a man who, with respect both to genius and industry, may- be classed among the first of mankind, on these most important subjects. But notwithstanding marks of superior good sense, and discernment, in the writ- ings of Aristotle, we do not find in them any real advance in theological or moral science. And as to 2inj practical use oi\\\^^oQ,\x\nt^, it appears to be

something

• ^

OF ARISTOTLE. 183

something less than the world was in possession of before.

As to the great object of heathen pliilosophy in general, which was to enable men to bear tlie evils of life, and the fear or the pains of death, he never, that I recollect, so much as mentions the subject ; but treats of generation and dissolution merely as natural phenomena, to be explained upon physical principles, but he never regards thcni in a moral light. On the consequence of death, and a state of retribution after it, he is likewise wholly silent ; probably from not believing any thing eidier of the notions of the vulgai*, or the refined speculations of Plato. Had the subjects been much upon his mind, he mustha\'e treated of them, and wdth seri- ousness, as in themselves highly interesting to him- self; as well as to the rest of mankind.

What is peculiarly remarkable in Aristotle, is that though he reasons much, and disputes -witli wonderful subtlety, he seems to ha\c felt nothing. He never expresses himself with any ^varmth, cr any degree of sensibility, when he is treating of the most important subjects ; but writes concerning God, and the soul, and of virtue and vice, with as much coolness as he describes his plants and ani- mals. Ho\v different, in this respect, as well as in I M 5. many

184 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

many Others, are the writings of Aristotle from the Psalms of David, the \mtiiigs of the prophets, and other devotional and moral ai'ticles in the books of scripture, penned by men of no uncommon ability of any kind, but deeply impressed with the impor- tance of the subjects on which they write, and hav- ing more knowledge of them. They know infi- nitely more of God, and of his constant attention to the aifairs of men, individuals as well as nations, and therefore they write as if they were really sensible of his presence with them, and his unremitted at- tention to them, as the proper author of all the good and evil diat fell to their lot. They regarded him not only as their moral governor, and final judge, but as their father, and their friend ; and thence were led to address themselves to him on

all interesting occasions.

What is there, in this respect, in all the heathen writings to compare with the language of the Psalms ? To quote a few verses out of thousands, I shall just transcribe the beginning of the 116th. Psalm. / loiie tJie Lord because he has heard my ^oice, and my supplications. Because he has inclin- ed his ear unto 7ne, therefore will I call upon him as long a^ Hive. 1 he sorrows of death compassed me ^ and the pains of hell got hold upon me. I found trouble

and

I

OF ARISTOTLE. 185

and sorrow, then called I upon the name of the Lord, 0 Lord I beseech thee^ deliver my soul. £pV. i^c.

I am tempted to add the beginning of the 139th Psalm. 0 Lord thou hast searched me and knoivn me. Thou hiowest my down sitting and my upris- ing. Thou imderstandest my thoughts afar off. Thou compassest my path, and my lying down, and art acquainted with all my ways. For there is not a word in my tongue, but lo, 0 Lord, thou knowect it altogether. Thou hast beset me behind and be- fore, and laid thine hand upon me. Such knowledge is too ivonderful for me. It is high, I cannot at- taiji unto it.

This is language that comes from the hearty im- plying a feeling sense of the intimate presence, and constant inspection, of God, naturally producing a direct address to him, which does not appear ever to havebeem made by any of the philosophers. Their feelings, therefore, must have been ^^er^' diiferent. Supposing them to have been the same in kind, thev must have been unspeakably difterent in de- gree. Their acknowledgment of the universal presence of God must have been mere speculation, and rested, as we say, in head, but never reached the heart. But this strikes us in every psalm of David. O F

186

OF THE

STOICAL PHILOSOPHY OF

MARCUS ANTONINUS

AND

EPICTETUS.

X HE Stoic philosophy the founder of which was Zeno, who flourished about three hundred years be- fore Christ, and a Httle after Aristotle, arose a con- siderable time after Socrates, and it is on several accounts the most respectable of all the heathen systems, especially as it regards the being and pro- vidence of God, and the submission we owe to it, patience in adversity, and resignation to death. It was soon opposed by the doctrine of Epicurus, which -m2i6£ pleasure J though not sensual pleasure, but rather the enjoyment of life in general, the great object and end of human life, whereas, according to the Stoics, pleasure of every kind, as well as pain, is to be ranked among things indifferent j and not to be attended to in the great rule of life.

When the Grecian philosophy was introduced into Rome, some of the most virtuous and respec- table characters embraced that of the Stoics, in pre- ference

/

or THE PHILOSOPHY, &C. 187

ference to any other ; especially Cato, and In a later period the emperor Marcus Antoninus, who made V. hat he deemed to be virtue, and whatever he thought to be subservient to the good of his coun^ try, more an object than any other of the emperors, or almost an)' other heathen that wc read of. It will, therefore, be well worth while to examine the

fu ndamental principles of this philosophy ; as this alone can come in any competition w ith the cliristi- an. And as the fairest specimen of it may be seen in the writings of Marcus Antoninus, and Epicte- tus, I shall, in this place, confine myself to the exa- mination of their works, in which we mav be sure to find the genuine principles of it without any dan- ger of mistake. Seneca indeed, and Arrian came before Marcus Antoninus, and their principles were those of the Stoics. But there is too much of rhetoric in their compositions, especially those of Seneca, whereas the WTitings of the emperor came, no doubt, from the heart, and express nei- ther more nor less than he really thought. How- ever, I shall subjoin to this section an account of the sentiments of Seneca and Arrian.

Segtiom

188 or THE PHILOSOPHY

Section I.

Of God and Prmiidence.

It was a fixed maxim with the Stoics, as it was with Socrates, from whom none of the founders of sects that came after him pretended to differ, that there is a principle of inteUigence, wisdom and also of benevolence, directing all the affairs of the world and of men, though they .do not ascribe proper cre- ation to it. Sometimes they even speak of it in the- singular number, though more generally in the plural; believing that, though the principle of in- telligence was ojie, it was distributed to several in- dividuals, and indeed to men, and all otlier intelli- gent agents.

But none of the philosophers adopted the popu- lar ideas of the gods of their country. Though they sometimes make use of the same names^ (and this is not frequent) they had a very different idea of their characters. In their writings we find no- thing of the lewdness, the cruelty, and caprice of the gods of Homer and Virgil ; nor do they ever make any apology for rejecting the notions of the common people. This

)

OF THE STOICS.

189

This unity of principle in all the orders of intel- ligent beings would, in the opinion of the philoso- phers, secure the unity of design in the whole sys- tem that was subordinate to them, and governed by them. " There is," says Marcus Antoninus (Lib. vii. sect. 9.) " one world, one god in all *' things, one matter, and one law. Consequently, *< reason in all inielligent beings is the same ia ■" all, and truth also is one."

He makes use, though only once, of the name of Jupiter as that of the Supreme Being, when he speaks of the principle of intelligence in all men as derived from one source. ^' We should live," he says, (Lib. v. sect. 7.) " with the gods; and this

any person will do who preserves his mind in a

disposition to acquiesce in what is appointed *' him, and who acts according to that genius, *' which Jupiter, having detached it from himself, *' gives to every person to be his future guide and " commander, which is every person's mind, or " reason." He evidently considered the sun as a portion of the universal deity, when he says, (Lib. viii. sect. 19.) " the sun, and the other gods, exist " for some purpose or other."

That this universal mind has a perfect know- ledge of all things, even pf what passes in the minds

of

<i

u

150 OF THE THILOSOPHY

men, was the belief of the Stoics, as well as of So- crates. " God," says Marcus Antoninus, (Lib. xii. sect. 2.) " sees all minds divested of their co- " verings and flesh. By his own mind alone he " sees them as derived from him. If you will do " the same, you Avill be freed from much trouble.'* For believing that all minds are only parts of one whole, he ascribes to them all much of the same power, as we shall see more particularly hereaf- ter.

He, however, takes it for granted that all good and evil is the dispensation of the gods, and there- fore he holds it as a fixed maxim to be tliankful foi: tlie former, and patiently to bear the latter. " I ** thank God," he says, (Lib. i. sect. 17.) " for *' good grandfathers, good parents, good precei>- " tors, good acquaintance, domestics, and friends, ** and for good of every other kind. If," says he (Lib. vi. sect. 44.) " the gods take no care of the *' world, which it is impiety to believe, why do we " sacrifice, pray, take oaths, and do other things " which suppose the gods to be present with us, *' and attentive to us ?"

The heathens in general, without excepting any of the philosophers, except Epicurus, were dis-

. posed

OF THE STOICS. " 191

pdiiecl to believe that the gods hiterposecl in the af- fliirs of man, giving him admonitions, and sugges- tions bj'- dreams, omens, oracles, and various other ways. " With respeet to the gods," say Marcus Antoninus (Lib. i. sect. 17.) " their suggestions, *' and the aids, and inspirations that come from *' them, nothing hinders my living according to the *' rule of nature, unless it be my fault, in not ob- " serving those hints from llie gods, which are *' sometimes obscure."

He seems soBietimes, however, to consider such an order of things established from all eternitv as would render all prayer, sacriliccs, &.c. useless. *' Whatever happens to you," he says, (Lib, x. sect. 5.) *' was dc-jiined for you from all eternitv. " This" he says, " was done, (Lib. iv. sect. 26.) " by a ceitain fate." And again, " the series of *' causes combined with one another, connects " your existence with that event from all eternity." This, however, is the belief of Jev\''s and Christians, and' according to their Ideas is not incompatible with prayer. But it is doubtful whether Marcus Antoninus entered into the proper principle of this, so as to make prayer perfectly compatible with his idea of fate. It does not appear that the Stoics in ^Jieral, any more than other heathen philosophers,

N. baa

192 CF IKE PHlLOSOPflV

had their minds exercised in prayer, habitual and occasional, in the manner of pious Jews and Chris- tians. We should otherwise have had more of thtir devotional compositions, similar to those of ttte psalms of David, and other forms of prayer tliat occur in the books of scripture. The difference between the heathens and the believers in revelati- on in this respect is so striking as I observed before^ as proves a very different state of mind with respect to a God and providence, whatever may be inferred to the contrary from occasional expressions in their

writings.

That every thing that was appointed and direct- 'edby the Supreme Being is right, Marcus Ail toni- nus never doubted. " If there be a God," he sa3^s, (Lib. IX. sect, 29.) " every thing is right." Ac- cording to him, this made the existence of any thing properly e'vi/ absolutely impossible. " No- " thing," he says, (Lib x. sect. 6.) " can behurt- " ful that is good for the whole ; and every thing '' in the ttni verse must be good for k. This is '' common to the nature of every thing, and the "world must have it in the greatest degree, be- " cause there is nothing external to itself to force " any thing n'oxious upon it." This considerati* on is with us also aii argument for the unchangea- ble

OF THE stoic's. l^S

"l)le goodness, and other attributes, of God, the evl- tlence of which we see in the works of nature. We say diat, since there are e\'ident marks of baicDO^ lence in what we experience and see around us, a principle of vmle=oolence^ which is opposite to it, cannot be admitted. Every thing, therefore, must have been designed for the best, ^vhether at present we can see it to be so or not. And as there is no- thing in nature superior to this benevolent su- preme intelligence, this system, tending in ail re- spects to good, must be perpetual.

That this system is in a progTessi\e state of con- tinual improvement was not the doctrine of the Stoics. It was rather their opinion that, after a certain period, every thing would return to the state in which it had been before ; so that nothing would be gained by their perpetual revolutions. in this their system coincided y>ith that cf the Hindoos, and the oriental philosophers. This seems to be intimated by Marcus Antoninus. *' We should bear in mind," he says, (Lil^. ii. sect. 14.) " two things, o\\<t that all things hiivc *' been from eternity in a perpetual round. There *' is in it no difference between seeing the same *' things a hundred years, two hundred years, or in ** a longer duration." Kovv dull and unpleasant is

N2. this

194 OP THE PHlLOSOPHr

this prospect compared to that which is suggested in our scriptures ; accordino^ to which nothinn; will ever return to the state in which it has been before, but every thing will continually advance in im- provement, without, hov.ever, ever reaching per- ffct'ion, which must ever be the exchisive preroga- tive of the Supreme Being.

The duty of absokite submission to the divine V\ill, and tlie order of nature, as coincident with it, cannot be inculcated more forcibly than it is by the Stoics. " Man," says Marcus Antoninus, (Lib. xii. sect. 12.) " should do nothing but what God " liimself would approve, and he sliould receive *' ^villino-Iv whatever he assisrns him. With re- " spect to every thing that is agreeable to nature, " the gods ai-e riot to be blamed, for they do nothing " wrong* with design." " The principal article of *' piety to^vards the gods," says Epictetus, (sect. 31.) " is to have just opinions concerning them, *' as that they exist, and administer every thing *' well and rightly, and that it is our business to '' obey them, and acquiesce voluntarily in every " thing that takes place, as being disposed for the *' best." Treating of death, Mai^cus Antoninus says, (Lib. vi. sect. 10.) " If everj^ thing be order- ** ed by providence, I venerate the supreme ruler,

" and

©F THE STOICS. 195

t

" ancl, depending upon him, am unmoved/' Froui his opinion of die duty of submission to the di> inc will, he excellently observes, (Lib, ix. sect. 40.) " the gods either huve power, or no power. If " they have no power, \vhy do }'ou pray ? Ti they *' have power, why do you not rather pray that you " may ,be without anxiety about an event, than that *' the event may not take pLice ?" This may in- struct even a christian.

It was the opinion of all the heathens, f/oni the earliest to the latest times, that it was right, and even necessary, to adhere to the religious rites o-^ their ancestors ; since; the prosperit}^ of the state they thought depended upon it. On this jii inci- ple, absurd and groundless as it apparent]}- is, it Svas that the wisest and best of the heath.ens acted. It was on this principle tliat Marcus Antoninus, Trajan, and some otlicrs, the best disposed of the Roman emperors, wished to exterminate the chris- tians, in order that the rites of the antient religion might not grow into disuse, to the endangering of the state. *' It is every person's duty," says E- pictetus, (sect. 31.) " to make libations, offer sa- *' orifices, and fin'st fruits, according to the custom " of his country, not sordicjiy, or ne gligently, nor " above our means."

N 3, The

196 OF THE rniLOSOFHY

The good sense, however, of Marcus Antoninus taught him that there might be an excess, and su- perstition, in this exteiTial worship. For he com- rcends a person (lib. vi. sect. 30.) for being " reli- *' gious without superstition." He also says (Lib. vi. sect. 23.) " In all tilings pray for the divine " aid, and consider that there is no difference how " long we are doing this. Three hours thus pas- " sed may suffice." He does not, Jio'^vever, say for what space of lime these three houfs would suffice.

IJkc Socrates, the emperor connecXed the practice of morality ^^•ith religion ; though with this, the re- ligious rites of states, those on which their prospe- rity v>'as thought to depend, had no connection \vliatever. " It is of much consequence," he says, (Lib. X. sect. 8.) "to remember that ther^ are •' gods, and tliat they do not \\ish men to deceive *' them, or to flatter them, but to imitate them. " He that fears pain, (Lib. ix sect. 1.) fears what " mustbeinjthe world, and this is impious; and " he vvho follows pleasure will not refrain from in- "justice, which is certainly impious."

Section

or THE STOICS. 107

Section II. Of the Human SotiL

Hitherto we ha^'e found tlie principles of the Stoics what may be called siiblbne^ and in a great ^

degi'ee rational, as there is but little to correct in their ideas of the supreme intelligence, of his uni- versal providence, or the obligation they maintain that all men are under to conform to its will, and acquiesce in its decisions, as necessarily right and good. But we shall now find diem de\iating ve- ry far from trudi and common sense, and leading themselves and others into errors of a practical na- ji

ture, as we proceed to consider their ideas concern- ing the mind of man, the disposition to be cultivat- ed in it, and the essentials of moral virtue.

The Stoics Jield the docti-ine of t/irec principlts in man, viz. his body, consistiiig of gross matter, the principle of mere animal life, called by them ( TTvsvuoc ) or ( \livx'/i, ) and the proper iHtcllcctual principle, called (vouj.) The difference between men and other animals appeared to them to be so great, that they could not believe the latter to be possessed of the highest principle (^f hu man nature.

N 4. But

198 O? TKE PHILOSOPHY

But as men have evcrj^ thing that belongs to brutes, in which they acknowledge some tiling su- perior to mere matter, they w ere under a necessity of making the component parts of n>an to be three.

Moreover, as they considered all mattef as fun- damentally the same, though forming different sub- stances, they conceived the animal principle to be the same in all, flowing from a common source, to animate particular bodies for a time, and then, like Hie breath to which it was generally compared, jiiixed vvith die origin from which it was derived.

In like manner, having no idea of a proper cre^ atiofi, i. e. out of nothing, they considered thehigh- -jcst principle in man, viz. that of intelligence, as the same in ail, derived from *he same source; and this they conceived to be the supreme intelligence^, which disposed and directs the affairs of the whole universe, and like the principle of animal life, they held that, being detached from this sdMrce at the birth of every man, it was absorbed into it again after his deatli, as a drop of w ater (to use a com- parison that is frequent with them) is absorbed and lost in the ocean. Consequently, its separate ex- istence, and separate consciousness, then vanished.

Accord'

OF THE STOICS. 199

According to this philosophy, therefore, the souls of men are so many portions of the divinity ; and this led the professors of it to ascribe to them the properties and powers of di^^i^ity, making them sufficient for their own happiness, independently of every thing external to them. And, as the isu- preme intelligence is incapable of su Bering from evil of any kind, they transfeiTed this extraordina- ry power to tlie soul ; maintaining that nothing foreign to itself could affect it without its own con- sent, so that it is in every man's power to be com- pletely happy, whatever his outwaid circumstances

may be.

This sentiment, which has an air of great subli- mity, tended to inspire the Stoics with a sense of native dignit}-, rendering them superior to every thing mean and base; but it excluded humility, and many amiable and useful virtues, peculiarly adapted to the state of society Avlth beings equally imperfect with themselves. Their sentiments how- ever, on this subject so nearly connected with mo- rals, led diem to express themselves with respect to the common accidents of life in a maimer that, with a little qualification, is truly admirable and edifv' ing. • But when taken literally their language just- ly shocks a christian, who feels his own weakness,

N 5. and

200 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

and is thereby disposed to compassionate the weak- ness and iafirmiiLes of others ; the most amiable, and in the present state of things, one of the most

iisefal of all virtues.

On the subject of the diilerent component parts of man Mai'cus Antoninus expresses himself as follows: "Man, (Lib. xii. sect. 2.) consists oi flesh, " the animal principle, ( Trvsvjxoiliov ) and the gO;. *' verning principle ( r,ysixoviKov. ) The ( Trvivjxa ) " is breath, or air, {avs/^^) nor is it always the " same, but is drawn in and emitted. You con- " sist, (Lib. xii. sect. 3.) of three parts, the body, " the {Trvsvi^ajtov,) and the mind, ( vovg ). The " two former are so far yours, as that they are *' committed to your care, but the third only is *' properly yours." For the intellectual part of man was considered as so much superior to the other two, as to deserve to be alone called a man''s self. And on several occasions we shall find that the two other parts were thought to be as much fo- reign to a man as if they did not belong to him at all, any more than other parts of the external \^'orld.

The unity of these three elements of which every man consists, is thus described by Marcus Antoni- nus, "One living principle {-^vyji) (Lib. ix. sect. 8.) ** is distributed to all iirational animals, and one in-.

" tell i gent

«F THE STOICS. 201

" telllgent living principle ( vcspa i^vxri ) to all ra- ** tional ones, just as to the several elements there *' is one and the same earth. We all see and live '* with one light, and breathe one air. Thei*e is " (Lib. xii. sect. 30.) one light of the sun, though " it be distributed upon difterent things, one com- " mon nature, though distributed into various dif- ** ferent bodies, one ( iJ^uxJ?, ) though distributed to " innumerable peculiar natures, and one intelli- *' gent principle ( vapoc \ljvxri ) though it seems to *' be divided."

The idea which the Stoics entertained of the na- tive dignity, and superior powers, of die human mind "flowed necessarily from their opinion of its origin and final destination ; but it coiTCsponds very little widi experijence, and is wholly discordant with the principles of revelation. " You forget," says Marcus Antoninus, (Lib. xii. sect. 26.) " that '* the mind of every man is God, and flowed from *' the divinity." And again, (Lib. iv. sect. 14.) *' Thou art part of the universe, and will vanish " into that which produced thee, or rather b)- some *' interv'Cning change, thou \Ailt be received into *' the seminal reason ( T^cyov c-TTSpiMccjiK:: ) i. e. the

*' the source of all reason. ""

Tliese

202 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

These ideas of the great power, and natur^ in- dependence, of the mind were suitable to the oi^ini- on of its high origin and final destination, as having been originally part of the supreme universal intel- ligence, and destined to be absorbed into it, and to become pait of it again. '' It belongs," says Mar- cus Antoninus, (Lib. vii. sect. 55.) " to the mind *' to be free from error and defect. Neither fire, *' nor external \'iolence, nor calumny, nor any " thing else can reach the mind when, like a sphere, ** it is compact within itself (Lib. viii. sect. 41.) " The soul endued with reason has the following " powers, (Lib. xi. sect. 1.) it sees itself, it forms ;" and limits itself, it makes itself whatever itpleas- " es. Whatever fruit it produces it reaps itself; ** whereas other persons gather the fruits of trees, " and also whatever is produced from animals. ** It always gains its purpose, at whatever time its *' life terminates ; so that it is not, as in a dance, *' or a play, in which the action is sometimes inter- '* rupted by incidents, and is therefore imperfect. " But w^herever it is taken, what precedes is com- plete and perfect ; so that I may say, I have eve- ry thing tliat belongs to me within me. Add to f' this, the mind traverses the whole world, and *' what surrounds it. It contemplates its form,

" and

it

OF THE STOICS. 203

" aiid looking forward into eternity, it considers *' the reno-\ ation of the uni\erse at certain intcr- " vaJg."

An essential prerogati^'C of the mind of man, and of the mast use in the conduct of life, tlie Stoics considered to be its command of thought, and by this means its total independence on every thing fo- reign to itself; since it is under no necessity of

giving any attention to them. '"' How can opini- " ens," says Marcus Antoninus (Lib. vii. sect. 2.) '^ be abolished, unless thoughts suitable to them be " extinguished, v.hich you may for tliat purpose " call up whenevei' you please. I can think of " any thing that I have occasion for ; and if I can, " why should my mind be disturbed ?'*

Thus these philosophers flattered themselves v*"ith the idea of their happiness being wholly indepen- dent on any thing foreigni to the mind, and tliat it became them to maintain a perfect indifterence to- Vv^ards every thing that is the object of affection, or respect, to other men. " If you behave" says E- pictetus (sect. 15.) "with becoming indifference " towards children, wife, the magistrate, riches^ '* &c. &:c. you will be -worthy of being a guest of *' the gods; but if you can despise all these things ** that are foreign to yourself, you will not only b^

" a corn*

204 OP THE PHILOSOPHY

** a companion with them, but a god yourself. " Thus Diogenes, Heraclitus, and others like * them., deserve to be called, and really were, di- " li'me.''^ It is surely hardly possible to carry ex- travagance and absurdity farther than this ; so far, however, we see that a false philosophy, pursued to. its natural consequences, can carry men from every thing that we are taught by daily experience and observation of common life. And yet these were men of deep thought and reflection, and both Epictetus and Marcus Antoninus lived in the world, and had to do with men and their aftairs

Section III.

Of Firtue and P'ice.

The great use of religion, and of moral pliiloso* phy, is to furnish th^ mind witli proper rules of life, by the observance of which \ve shall best se- cure our own happiness, and be the most disposed ^-^ promote that of otliers, to enable us to bear the evils of life with the least pain, and the prospect of deatli without terror. On all these three heads, therefore, I shall examine the merit of the Stoical

philosophy, and compare it with the chiistian.

. The

,0F THE STOICS. 205

The dignified sentiments maintained by the Stoics concerning the human soul lead us to ex- pect p-itat elevation of mind with respect to virtue; and in this we shall no the disappointed, as far as vir- tue in their ideas of it extended ; and it compre- hended every thing that relates to the due govern- ment of the passions, all the relative duties, and those that affect the intercourse between man and man. They also made happiness to depend entire- ly on the practice of viitue, independent on any fo- reisrn consideration, such as the fear of punish- ment, the hope of reward, or the opinion of others, expressed in pi rise or cenjure.

Marcus Antoninus, having observed tliat it is in the power of man to be happy in any situation, and especially in one that suits him, says (Lib. v. sect. 36.) " If you ask what tliis proper situation is, lan- " swer, that it consists in good morals, a good dis- *' position, and good actions. It is a pleasure to a " man (Lib. viii. sect. 26.) to do v/hat suits hisna- " ture, audit suits the nature of man to be kind to *' his countrymen, to command the emotions of *' his senses, to distinguish what is probable in " what is before him, to contemplate the nature of " the universe, and the things that are agreeable ta

'* it. Do nothing" he says, (Lib. xi. sect. 18.).

" for

ti

205 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

*' for the sake of admiration, but be the same when " alone as if your were before others.^' For he justly observes (Lib. xii. sect. 4.) " We fear more " what others think of us, than what we think of ♦' ourselves." Agreeable to this, Epictetus says (sect. 23.) " If your thoughts be employed in ex- *' ternd things, and you wish to please any person, *' you errfi'om the path of life ; whereas in all ca- ses remember that you are a philosopher, and that you appear so to yourself, though not ta "otliers."

The Stoics carried the principle of disinterested- ness to the highest pitch, beyond the bounds of rea- son or nature, expecting no reward for their virtues' either in this life, or any other, except the satisfacti- on of their own minds ; and this was short of any proper pleasurable sensation. For, according ta their general system, nothing of this kind ought to be indulged. " When you confer a favour" says Marcus Antoninus (Lib. ix. sect. 42.) *' is not this " sufficient, without any reward ? Does the eye " require a reward for seeing, or the feet for walk- *' ing ? So man, who is made to do good, should ** be satisfied with the good that he does."

These extremely rigid maxims, so much above tljie comprehension of the vulgar, led them to con- sider

OF THE STOICS. 207

sider the practice of virtue as the pecuruir. privi- lege of philosophers, and real happiness asmvich r^ore so. For who besides philosophers ecu Id be expected to despise e\ery thing that ^-'as forei^Ti to themselves, and to consider every thing on whiSti the comfort of life depends as included in this class; and without this there is, according to them, nei- ther real virtue or true happiness, as v»ill be more evident in the farther developement of their prin- ciples.

Some philosophers were poor, as Eplctctus him- self, who ^vas even some time in sen-itude ; and in an aee in which books were scaixe and dear, and leai-nino- not easily attained, some of them might not be able to read. In this case Marcus x\ntoni- mis says, (Lib. viii. cap. 8.) " If you cannot read, *' you can abstain from abuse, even of the ungrate- " ful, and also be kind to them. You need not be *' heard to complain of your situation, or env}^ ** that of others." Happily, however, these vir- tues and every other may be attained without phi- losophy.

Unhappily, the Stoics considered every thing that is foreign to the calm dictates of reason, all e- motions and passions, as belonging to mere animal nature ; seeing that men have them in common

O. ^vith

208 OF TPIE PHILOSOPHY

with brutes. They, therefore, thought it a point of magnanimity and duty in man to suppress every thing of this kind with respect to others, as well as themselves. Do not," says Marcus Antoninus, (Lib. vii. sect. 43.) " join otliers in tlieir lamentati- " ons, or be mcved by taem." Epictetus, howe- ver, makes some litde allowpjice for the weakness of human nature v/hen he says (sect, 16.) " If you " see a friend in distress, accommodate yourself to *' him so far as to lament and groan along with him, *' but take care that you groan not inwardly."

These maxims, I need not say, are as remote from the dictates af nature, as they are from the precepts of scripture, which bids us to be hndly af- fcctioned one to another^ imth brotherly loDe^ and from this principle to rejoice imth them that rejoice^ and to iveep ijoith them that weep. How can men be supposed to acty but as prompted by dieiry^<?/- ings ?

Though Marcus Antoninus advises to do good to a man's fellow citizens, and even to the unoTate-

o

ful, it w\as not, according to his principles, to be dictated by any affection, as that of loije, but only because it was the part of man, and became him to act in this manner ; as it was for the eye to see, or the feet to walk. But Christianity knows nothing of

the

or THE STOICS. 209

tlie distinction of the difFerent component parts of man, and the natural superiority of one of them to the rest. Paul, though he expresses a wish that his brethren might h^ sanctified in hody^ soul and spi- rit, it was only in allusion to the three fold division: of man alDove mentioned, which was familiar to the Greeks, to whom he was writing, desiring that, whatever they considered as belonging to man, or part of him, it might be sanctified, as a suitable temple for the spirit of God. He was not declar- ing his own principles, as a Jew, or a Ciiiisti .n.

The opinion which the Stoics maintained of the superior excellence of the intellectual principle in all men was such, that they considered ever}^ emo- tion or passion that led to vice as foreign to it, as arising only from the principle that is common to men and brutes ; and therefore not from an}^ thing that was properly a man's self. In consequence of this, they professed to have no indignation against the vices of men, but considered them like evils, and inconveniences of any other kind, at which it does not become any man to be disturbed, being- agreeable to the order of the nature.

Accordingly, Marcus Antoninus having observed that we have no reason to complain of the gods uitU

O 2. respect

210 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

respect to any thiuf^ that befalls us, adds (Lib. xn» sect. 12.) " Neither are men to be complained of. " For neither do they cfFend \\ illingly. It is the part " of man (Lib. vii. sect. 22.) to love those who of- " fend themx ; and this he will do if he recollect *' that all men are related, and that wb.en they of- " fend, it is v>hen they do not know it, or do it a- *' gainst their wills. When I consider that the " person who injures me (Lil3. ii. sect. 1.) is a par- " taker of the same intellect, and portion of the '' divinity, that I cannot be injured by him, that he *' has no power to di'aw me into any thing disho- " nest, I cannot beanfrrv with him, or hate him."

The Stoics were l,ed into these sentiments, and this conduct, by considering every man as wholly independent on every other, each being separately suaicient for his own happiness, and incapable of interfering with that of any other. " Does any " person ofFend me," says Marcus Antoninus (Lib. \. sect. 25.) " let him look to it. He has his own " dispositions and actions, and I have Avhat nature " wills me to have, and I do what is agreeable to *' riature." Again he says, (Lib. iv. cap. 26.) " Does any person injure me. No, he iiijures " himself. If you suffer (Lib. ix. sect. 42.) " through fraudulent, faithless, injurious, persons,

" consi-

r>F TPIE STOICS. 211

" consider that there must be such men in thc^ " world, and }^ou will bear w itli them. ^Vhen " you take any thing ill (Lib. xii. sect. 25.; you " forget that every thing takes place according to *' the nature of the universe. If we consider these " things only as evils which depend upon our own *' wills, we shall see no reason for blamein^r, or bc:ii-- " ingill will to, any man."

Besides this great indifference to the vices of other persons, as injuring only themselves, that of fornication was never considered by any heathens philosophers, or others, as one, any farther than it was found to be injurious. This is evident from the advice that Epictetus gives (sect. 33.) '' Ab- " stain as much as vou can from ^-enerv before *' marriage. If not, do it as the laws permit, but *' do not find fault with others v/ho are not conti- *' nent, or boast that you are so."

How short is tliis of the purity required of chris- tians, who are taught to consider fornicators, as well as adulterers, thieves, &c. excluded from the king- dom of heaven, and how liule attention nmst these philosophers have given to the natural consequence of venereal indulgence \vithout the bounds of mar- riage ; how ill it qualifies men to be aflectionate

Q 3. liusbands

212 Of THE PHILOSOPHY

husbands, and fathers, and diat in many cases it must indispose men to marriage in generah There Avas also diis inconsistence in their maxims in this respect, that fornication was ahvays reckoned infa- mous in the female sex ; so that women of charac- ter never associated with known prostitutes. The christian catalogue of both virtues and vices is far more copious than that of the heathens, which was def(?ctive \\i\h respect to duties of every kind, those that are commonly said men owe to themselves, and to society, as well as those that we owe to God, not- withstanding that of submission to his will, which is one of the great excellencies of the maxims of tlie Stoics ; as this was founded chiefly on its being merely taken for granted, \\ithout considering any particular evidence of it, that every thing in the universe, and the government of it, must be right. For the wisdom of pro^ddence in the permission o^" appointment of evil is never mentioned by Marcus Antoninus. That such things as evils of every kind 7misl be, is the amount of all that he says on the subject ; and that they do not affect any person who considers tliese as foreign to himself. He says nothing of tlie beneficial tendency of the things that we call evil, and complain of in the system, obvious as this tendency is now seen to be. Mar- cus

OF THE STOICS. 213

ciis Antoninus would bear tribulation, but the apostle Paul rejoices in it.

The maxims of the heathens were still more de- fective ^\ ith respect to sufHcient mothes to the prac- tice of virtue, in the fear of future punishment, and the prospect of future reward ; and all other mo- tives will have but little hold on the bulk of man- kind, especially if they be already engaged in bad habits. On such persons, a disinterested respect to virtue, so much insisted upon by Marcus Antoni- nus, cannot be expected to have any influence.

Section IV.

Of the various Evils of Life.

Another great use of religion and philosophy is to enable men to bear the various evils mcident to them in life with as little inconvenience as possible ; and accordingly this was a principal object of the philosophy of the Stoics, far more than it was with any of the other sects. In tliis respect their preten- sions went ver}^ high indeed, far, as we shall see, beyond the bounds of reason and nature; so that daily experience, one would have thought, must

0 4. ^ have

214 or THE PHILOSOPHY

have convinced them of their mistake. Notwith- standing thirs, th.ey resolutely maintained their fa- vourite, and indeed fundamental maxims, of indif- ference to every' thing foreign to themselves, (mean- ing the intellectual principle in them only) which enjoined patience under, and even insensibility to, all that mankind in general complain of, and call coils.

On this principle they held that, without its own cojisent, the mind could not be affected by any thing. " I leajiied," says Marcus Antoninus (Lib. 1. sect. 8.) " of Apollonius to regard nothing be- " sides mere reason, to be the same in the most " acute pain, in the loss of children, and in diseas- *' es of long continuance." So also Epictetus says, (sect. 1.) " If the things that disturb you be " not in your power, have it ready to say, This is *' nothing to me. And if you consider that only ** as yours which is yours, and what is foreign to *' you as foreign to you, no person will constrain " or hinder you. You Vv'ill complain of no man. '' You will do nothing against your will. You " will have no enemy, nor suffer any thing disa^ *'greeabIetoyou."

This

OF THE STOICS. 215

This opinion of the nature and powers of the mind, and of things that were, or Avere not, fo- reign to themselves, an opinion on \\ hich so much depended, they conceived to be easily formed by those who had been taught to pliilosophize, so as to be readily applied on all occasions. It was only the office of thou^fht. than which nothing: is raora easy to m'lnd^ the property of v*hich is to think. In this respect they made no difference between the most painful sensations and impressions, cor- poreal or mental, though in these we find th:it the

mind is absolutely passive; they supposing all

sensations and emotions were to be referred to the

merely animal part of man, on v\hich they main ^

tained that the mind was \\ holly independent ; so

that whatever impression might lie made from

without, it was in its power to relieve itself.

Consequently, they held that pleasure and pain of every kind ai"e not to be classed am&nir thino-j that are either good or evil. Marcus Antoninus says (Lib. ii. cap. 11.) "Life and death, honour *' and ignominy, pain and pleasure, \vealth and po- verty, may be equally considered as good or evil ; since they are neither honourable nor disho- ' nourable, and are therefore neither good no-

0 5. "evil*.'*

\ ,

^mr

216 OF THE J'HILOSOPHY

" evil-^-." But the difficulty consists in being ful- ly convinced of this, and regarding that as indiifer- cnt in contradiction to the actual feeling-s of them- selves, as \Aell as of the rest of mankind. Of this, however, they made very light.

" Reject opinion," says Marcus Antoninus, (Lib. xii. sect. 25.) " and you ai^e safe ; and'svhat *' hinders your doing this, when any thing happens " that is disagreeable to you ? you forget that this

*' happens

'* There is a passage in the Table of Cebes^ who 'i^as a disciple of Socrates^ hi which this sentiment of life and deaths health and sickness, being to be classed among thifigs indifferent to happiness occurs. But it must ha^e been added by some person who, if not a Stoic ^ must liaise li'oed long after the time of this Cebes. *' Life,'''' he says, is not to be classed among the goods or the evils ; because it is enjoy- ed alike by those who li-De well, and those %vho live ill. The samt may be said of cutting and burn- ing ; for these operations are usefully employed by *' those who are sick and those who are well. Nei- ** ther is death an absolute eml ; because it is some- *' times preferred to life by the braije ; nor health, " or sickness, riches, or any other seeming advan- *' tage; because they are often of no real use.''*

4(

OF THE STOICS. 217

*' happens according to the nature of the universe. " Take away opinion," he says (Lib. iv. sect. 7.) * and complaint is removed. Whatever does not " make a man worse, or his conduct worse, cannot *' injure him internally or externally." And a- gain, (Lib. vii. cap. 14.) " If I do not consider a- " ny thing that befalls me as an evil, I am not in- " jured, and it depends upon myself whether I think " so or not. How easy," says he, (Lib. v. sect. 2.) ** to remove every imagination that is troublesome " or inconvenient, so as to preserve tlie mind in *' perfect tranquility. In pain (Lib. viii. cap. 28.) " the soul may preserve its tranquility, and not '' think It to be an evil. Every thing of the nature *' of opinion, inclination, and appetite, is within us, " where nothing that is evil can come. Remove '' imagination," he says, addressing himself", and " it is in my power that no vice, no irregular de- ^' sire, no perturbation, exist in my mind ; but, re- " garding every thing as it really is, to make use of *' it according to its value. Remember tliat this ' power is given to you by nature. So Epictetus says (sect. 30.) "No person can hurt you unless ' ' you will. Then only are you inj ured, when you " think you are so."

In a more particular manner tliey made light oi

every

218 OF THE nilLOSOPHY

even- thing that affected the body orJy, for Avhich, as consisting of brute matter, they professed the great- est contempt, as if it had borne no relation whate- ver to the mind, which they considered as the only proper seat of good or evil, true pleasure or pain. " Nothinsr," says Marcus Antoninus, (Lib. iv. sect. 39.) " that is an evil to you, depends upon *' any change that takes place in that in which you " are inclosed. If the body be cut, burned, or '•' putrefy, only let that part of a m.an which forms *' its opinion concerning it be at rest, that is, " not consider that as good or evil, which may hap- " pen either to good or bad men. For whatever '' happens alike to him that lives agreeably to na- " ture, or contrary to it, is a matter of indifference. " You may pass your life (Lib. vii. sect. 68.) with- out injury, and with the greatest cheerfulness, though wild beasts tear the limbs of the body " tliat surrounds you, and adheres to you.'^

The language in which diey sometimes express this indifference to the body is amusing, and might have been said by way of ridicule of their system. " Pain," says Marcus Antoninus, (Lib. viii. sect. 28.) " is an evil to the body. If it is so, let the bo- " dy look to it. As to the limbs of the body, (Lib. ." vii. sect. 33.) if they be in pain, let them take

" care

i(

((

OF THE STOICS.

219

" care of it, if they can do any thing." Again (Lib. xii. sect. 1.) " Let the flesh with which yon *' are surrounded mind its own sufferinp's." " If " the reason," says Epictetas (sect. 18.) " forebode *' any ill, immediately reply, it may be to your bo- *' dv, your reputation, your children, or your wife. *' Every thing fortunate is intended forme, ifl "^ please. For whatever happens to mc, is in my *' po,ver,and I may derive advantage from it."

However, besides this great sheet anchor, as it may be called, of the Stoics, by which they procured their tranquility in all the storms of life, viz. their idea of the absolute Independence of the mmd upon eve- ry thing external to it, and its sufficiency for its own happiness, they occasionally mention other consi- derations not peculiar to themselves, some of more, and some of less, weight. Among others, Marcus Antoninus says, (Lib. vii. sect. 33.) " If pain con- *' not be borne, it will cease, and if it be of long *' continuance, it may be borne ; and in the mean "- time the mind, by means of its opinion, may " preserve its tranquility."

Another of his resources is not so reasonable. ^' Think with yourself," he says (Lib. viii. sect, 36.) " that nothing past or iuture, but only that

" which

220 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

*' which is present can be the cause of uneasiness " to you." This is by no means true with respect to beings capable of reflection, whose happiness or misery necessarily depends much more on the past and the future than on the present moment. It is only a brute, or a child, to which this observation is applicable, nor even to them completely, or long.

One rule of Epictetus, however, is truly valua- ble, if it could be applied. But the Stoics always imagined that much more was in their power than really was so. " Do not (sect. 8.) seek to find things " as you wish them to be, but wish for that which " actually is, and you will pass your life in tranqui- •' lity." The great difficulty in this case (but to this the Stoics gave no attention) is in the applicati- on of such a rule ; and other principles, out of the sphere of their philosophy, but comprehended in those of chiistianity, are necessary to assist us in this.

This great excellence of character, which raises some men so much above the level of their species, and which rendered them superior to all the evils of life, and also to the fear of death, the Stoics a- scribed wholly to philosophy ; so that it required much study and reflection to attain it, though af- terwards the exercise of it was easy. " The time

"of

OF THE STOICS- 22l

" of human lite," says Marcus Antoninus (Lib. ii. sect. 17.) " is a point; nature is in a continual *' flux, the senses are obscure, the body liable to *' corruption, &c. &c. the only thing" (thiit is of value) " is philosophy, "which consists in preserv- ** ing the mincl intire, superior to pleasure or pain, *' self-sufficient, having nothing to do v i'th what " others do or do not do, and receiving the things *' that befall them as coming- from the' same source " with tiicmselves." '* It is a mark," says Epic- tetus (sect. 48.) " of the common people to look *' for loss or gain from what is external to them, *' but the philosopher expects nothing but from himself. The proof that he is a philosopher, is, that he censures no person, commands no per- ** son, complains of no man, never boasts of him- " self, as a person of any consequence. If he meets " with obstacles from his acquaintance he blames <' only himself. If any person praise him he laughs " at him, and if he be censured he does not excuse *' himself." &c.

If only such persons as these be philosophers, they will never be very numerous. Indeed, we must not look for them among men, not even those who make the greatest profession and boast of this very philosophy ; because it could not be in their

power

222 OF THE THILOSOPIIY

power to di'.est themselves of the common princi- ples of human nature. We see, howe\'er, in these extremely absurd maxims, how far metaphysical or general principles can carry men, at least in spe- culation ; and therefore of \^'hat importance it is to form just ones, agreeable to the real principles of human nature ; for such only can lead to the pro- per duty and happiness of man.

Tliat the Stoics, however, found more difficulty than they were willing in general to allow, in re- ducing their maxims to practice, appears from their frequently inculcating the necessity of having pro- per rules, or remedies, at hand for every case that might occur. " As surgeons," says Marcus An. toninus(Lib. iii. sect. 13.)" have their instruments *' ready for every operation, so have you your max- *' ims ready, by the help of which you may distin- " guish divine and human things," meaning pro- bably things ^vithin our power, and those that were out of it. " There is no retirement (Lib. iv. sect. " 3.} so complete as that into one's own mind,espe- *' cially if it be well stored with maxims, by the con- *' sideration of Vvhich it may attain perfect tranquili- *' ty. And by this means it is in a man's power to " remove every cause of uneasiness." " Whate- *'ver occurs to you," says Epictetus (sect. 10.)

" have

or THE STOICS. 22S

" have some principle ready to oppose to it. If *' you see a beautiful boy or girl, have recourse to *' continence, if labour the enduring of it, if re- " proach patience. By this means appearances *' will not mislead you." " In pain let this co;>.si- " deration be at hand," says Marcus Antoninus, (Lib. vii. sect. 64.) " that it is not disgraceful, or " makes the governing pov.er" (the mind) " at all the *' worse, and that nothing that is either material, or " that relates to other persons, can injure it."

How greatly superior, and how much better a- dapted to the real principles of human nature, and the common feelings of men, ai'C the consolations of our religion, to those of t^iis philosophy ! In the scriptures the idea of the Divine Being is that of the universal parent, our father in heaven, who never afilicts his children but for their benefit. H^ docs not, we read, afflict wi/l/ngly, nor grieves the children of men. Tea as a father pitieth his children^ the Lord pitieth them that fear him. He knoweth their frame and remembers that they are dust. W^ith re- spect to the wicked, he is represented as forbearing to punish with severity, waiting for their repentance and reformation, which is the sole object of the dis- cipline to \vhich they are exposed ; not being wil- ling that any should perish^ but that all should comd to repentance, P. Tliese

224 OF- THE PHILOSOPH?

These .sei>tiine!its are such as all men may feel ths ibrce of, and aie therefore adapted to common use. Christiaiiity also holds out a suHicient re- ^vard for all our suiTcrings, when they ai-e borne with a proper temper ; and of this the Stoics taughi no- thing. AffliclicnSj as the apostie says, are not joyoiis but gricvouSy ns'usrtliehss tiity "tuc rk out for us a far more exceeding y e'oen an eternal iv eight of glory ; %\)hile they make us to look not at the things that are seen^ vjhich are temporary^ but at the things that are ■unjee?i, ivhich are eternal.

It is not among the Stoics, or any heathens, that we must look fcr such truly consoling sentiments as these. With these helps, christians are enabled to endure affliction not only with patience, which WTis ail tliat the Stoics pretended to, but with joy: and accordingly the apostles exhort their ielfoW christians to rejoice in tribulation ; in eiiery thing to gin)e thanks. Count it all joy says the apostle JameSy (Chap. i. V. 2.) when ye fall into divers trials; knowi?7g that the trial of your faith worketh pati- ence. But let patience hai^e her perfect luork, that you 7nay be perfect and intire, wafiting nothing — (v. \2.) Blessed is the man that endureth tempta- tion : for Vihen he is tried he shall receive the crown ^f^f^-> 11' hie h the Lord has promised to them that hvc him. SEcTiojr

or THE STOICS. S25

Section V. Of Death.

Of all the evils of life death is the iiatural termi- nation ; but it is likewise the same with res|X:ct to all the enjoyments of it, and what is more, of all our future hopes^ if we have nothing- to look to be- yond it. On this account it has alvv'ays been clas- sed in the catalogue of the cc^'ih to v/hich men are subject, and one from which no man, whatever may have been his rank or situation in life, can be ex- empt.

The apprehension of this universal catastrophe would oppress the mind much more than it gene- rally does, if the time^ and other circumstances, at- tending it were known to us. But these being un- known, and uncertain, and all men having their thoughts engaged in the pursuit of their several ob- jects, and also naturally disposed to flatter them- selves, they seldom think of death till the \Qry near approach of it ; and then they are often wholly in- sensible of it; so that their suffering from it at the time is generally inconsiderable.

P 2. Still,

226 OF THE PKILOSOPHr

Still, however, the consideration of death must often throu" a cloud over the brightest prospects of Hiany men who refiectoii their situation, and espe- cially those whose lot in life is the most pleasino- to lliem ; and, in general, tend to abate the san- guine views and expectations wi:h which per- sons generally enter upon life. On these accounts u remedy for the fear of death has always been con. sidered as a most dcsireable thing, and an impor- tant aiticle in religion and philosophy. It was sa more particularly with tlic Stoics, as is evident from their frequent mention of it, and the various arguments tl.ey urge to reconcile the minds of men to it. Some of them are valuable, and as far as tlicy go, satisfactory ; especialiy that to which they have constant recourse, as flowing directly- from ttiC fandamental principle of their systen;, ^•]2. the submission that we owe to tl-ie established order of nature and providence, which we cannot alter, and which we must take for granted is right.

" To die," says Marcus Antoninus (Lib. ii. sect. 11.) "is not grievous, since there are gods, " Mho will not involve thee in any thing that is evih " If there were no gods, or if they gave no attenti- *' on to the affairs of men, it would not be worth *' while to live in such a world. But tliere ar^

gods»

OF THE STOICS. ^^T

*' p:od% and they do Like care of human affairs, anct ** t'vey have put it into every man's power not td *' fall into any evil. We should meet death," he ^■^.ys (Lib. ii. sect, 17.) " with a benevolent and ' {>ldcid mind, as a dissolution of those elements of ** which eveiy animal consists. And if nothing- *' cxtraordinaiy happens to these elements, which *' are continually changing into one another, it is *' no subject cf dread, because it is according to *' nature, and nothing is an evil that is agreeable " to nature."

One use of the expectation of death is well point.' ed out by Epictetus, '' Let death," says hc' (sect. 2L) '* exile, and every thing that is trouble- *'*somc, be always present to your thoughts, and *' especially death, and }'ou will ha\'e no mean ♦* thoughts, nor desire any thing inordinately."

Some of the Stoical arguments against the fear of death are not equally satisfactoiy vrith that aboA'-e. mentioned, especially that v hich Marcus Anto..I- nus alleges widi respect to evils in genera*, hough he applies it more particularly to the couoidtration > of death, viz. that nothing reiJIy interests us besides what is actually present. " In death," he sa^ys (Lib. ii. sect. 14.) " we only lose the present,

P 3. ' " which

228 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

*' which is the same to all persons ; for what is past " or future cannot be the subject of life. I'his " makes the longest life equal to the shortest." On this idea he enlarges in a manner that is truly extraordinary, in a man of general good sense, and disposed to rcfiection. " Though you should " live," he says, " three thousand years, or more *' than ten cimes as long, you should remember " that no person can have more of this life, or of " any other life, than he really has. It is the same " thing, therefore, whether you have the longest or *' the shortest life, since the present is the same to all ; *' so that v.'hat is lost is only momentary."

'' If any of the gods," he says (Lib. iv. sect. 47.) " should tell you that you must die either this day " or the next, you would think it a matter of indif-. " ference which to chuse, unless you were the most ' *' abject of men. In like manner, neither would " you think it of consequence v.hether you lived *' a thousand years, or died to-mon^ovv. He who " thinks (Lib. xii. sect. 35 ) that whatever is season- *' able is good, w ill think there is no difference whe- ther he perform more or fe'»\ er actions agreeable * to reason, and whether he contemplate the uni- *' verse a longer or a shorter space of time. Tq

** him deatli cannot be formidable."

In

t

OF THE STOICS. ^29

In this sefitiment, however, the emperor would not have the concurrence of mankind in o-cncra!. They consider life as valuable, and would, therefore, prefer a longer to a shorter one ; and no doubt he himself, notwithstanding^ this reasoning, \^'ouid have done so too, provided (as we may presume in his case) his pro jpects, in the continuance of life and of power, had been promising.

What rnakss the apprehension of death distres- sing to some persons of a melancholy turn of mind, is their connecting witii it things that do not proper- perly belong to it ; being things that at the time they cannot have any knowledge or feeling of, as the circumstances attending a funeral, being inclos- ed in a coffin, being put underground, and there putrifying, and perhaps devoured by v.orms, Sec,

&,c. On this subject the emperor very proj^erly says (Lib. ii. sect. 12.) " If we separate h'oni ^* death every thing that does not necessarily belong *' to it, and which usually make it an object of ter- ^' ror, there is nothing in it but the work of na-' " ture ; and whoever dreads any thing in nature *' is a child. But death is not only the work of na^ *' ture, but a thing that is of use in the system of ** nature, and it is in a raan's power to consider

P4. "the

230 OP THE PHILOSOPHr

" tlie relation that the principal part of him bears to *' God, and wliat is to be the condition of that " part when it shall be released from the body."

In this he alludes to the philosophical principle of the absorption of all inferior intelligences into the great universal intelligence. But neither he, or any other heathen philosopher, had, or could have, an unshaken belief in that doctrine, little con- sclation as it can afford. For \\ hat is a drop of wa- ter (which is their usual comparison) when absorb- ed in the ocean !

Besides, the Stoics as well as all the other philo- sophers often express doubts on the subject ; like Socrates, putting the supposition, that death is ei- ther an entire dispersion of all the elements of which man consists, m hich puts a period to all con- sciousness, or that absorption of the soul into the soul of the universe which puts an end to all sepa- rate individual consciousness, and which cannot be very different from it. " If,'' savs Marcus An- toninus (Lib. vi, sect, 10.) " every thing is to be *' dissipated, why should I think of any thing but *' being, some way or other, reduced to earth ; and '' why should I be disturbed at this ? Do what I " will, this dispersion will come some time or

" other

OF THE STOICS. 231

((

Other. If after death (Lib. iii. sect. 3.) you be

** deprived of all sense, you will likewise lose all

*' sense of pleasure and pain. You will then cease

<' to be a slave to the worst part of yourself. But

*' is not that which v/as enslaved the better part of

*' you, when the one is intellectual and a genius^

*' and the other mud and corruption? Wait your

*' death (Lib. v. sect. 33.) with tranquility, whe-

*' ther it be an extinction of being, or a removal.

*' Till that time come, be content to worship the

*' gods, to do good to men, to bear with them, and

** keep at a distance from them, remembering that

^' every thing foreign to yourself is neither yours,

^' nor in your power."

This supposition of the two possible consequen- ces of death, so frequent with the heathen philoso- phers, and with the Stoics as much asanyoth-er^ certainly shews an unsteadiness of opinion on the subject, and that little consolation was in f ict de- rived from it. No such uncertainty is expressed by Jesus, the apostles, or any christian. With them the belief of a resurrection was as unshaken as that of death, and it operated accordingly, re- lieving them from all anxiety on the subject, and enabling them ever to rejoice in the prospect of ex- changing this life for a better.

P 5. On

232 CF THE rRIL0SO?HY

On tlie subject ot self murder, Xht Stoics seem to have had no settled opinion, some times maintain- ing, as the emperor seems to do, that it is the duty of every man to remain in the station in which pro- vidence has placed liim, tiii he recei\'es an order from tiie same pov.er to quit it, by v.hich must be meant, something foreign to a man's own v/ill, or inchnation, as by disease, or violence. But if v/e judge by the practice of some of the most dis- tinguished of the sect, as that of Zeno himself, Pla- to, and others, tliey considered it as an act of great heroism, especially becoming a man who must q- thei'wise live in ignominy ; notwithstanding their maintaining at o'dier times, that neither praise nor blame, servitude or exile, being things foreign to •a man's self, ought to give him any uneasiness.

Marcus Antoninus himself expresses, though somewhat obscurely, his approbation of self mur- der. ''If you must die (Lib. v. sect. 29.) let it ** be as those v/ho have suffered nothing. If the ^' smoke be troublesome, I leave it. Why should

this appear of consequence to any person ? But * nothing compels me to depart. I remove iree-

ly, since no person can hinder me from doing " what I please. It is my wish to do what belongs ** to a man endued with reason, road born for socie-

\(<

4C

♦' ty.^-

OF THE STOICS. 233

« ty." This allusion to his quitting a smoky house, looks like a voluntary act ; the compulsion being very inconsiderable, since a smoky house is tolerable though not pleasant.

The amount of all these philosophical remedies against the fear-of death, is nothing more than a pati- ent acquiescence in what is unavoidable, and what must be taken for granted is right, with respect to the whole system of which we are a part : deatli, as well as birth, being included in it. The same ar- gument applies to the deprivation of any thing that men value, as health, riches, pleasure, power, &c» Sec. but what can prevent our regret at the loss ot them, if we really value them ? and is not life a tiling that all men value, and consequently must

they not naturally part with it, as well as other things, with regret, when they can retain it no long- er, and have no prospect of any equivalent for the loss, which must have been the case with the hea- then world ? This is certainly the language of na- ture ; and if philosophers say any thing to the con- trary, as the Stoics do, it is a proof that th( ir prin- ciples are not agreeable to nature, and tliereforc false, and their topics of consolation under afflicti- on, and in the prospect of deadi, are not adapted to

the nature and condition of man.

Ho^vV

234 OF THE philosophy-

How unspeakably more natural, and tlierefortf' more efficacious, and valuable, is the consolation that Christianity holds out to a dying man, who is conscious tliat he lias lived a virtuous life ! It h not the gloomy consolation of the dispersion of the elements of ^^ hich his body consists, and never to be collected again, or the re-union of liis soul to- that of the whole universe, from Mhicli he cannot conceive any source of joy to himself individually, and of Vihieh, indeed, he cannot formaay distinct idea; but the exchange of this life for a better, a ' state in which lie will not be subject to sickness or pain, and in whieh he will not die any more, but continue in existence without end ; and this not mere existence, but a life of the truest enjoyment, the enjoyment of things which the apostle says, eye hath not seen, nor car hcard^ and such as it /ms not entered into the mind of man to conceiiie. With thij prospect, certain and glorious, though not distinct and particular, well may the christian say in dying, 0 death ivJiere is thy sting, 0 grave "where is thy victory ! That christians of ever}'' denomination actually believe this, and that this is the most es- sential and unquestionable ard^ie of their faith, cannot be denied ; and this firm faith acc&unts^ in tiie most satisfactory raannci-, cot only for the

■£)7 THE STOICS. -i->0

ealm resignation, which is all that the Stoics pre- tend to, bat the joy with which thousands ofchris- tians have met death, and even endured tlie greatest tortures that could be inflicted upon them, ratiier than renounce their faith.

Had IVIarcus Antoninus been acquainted with [he sentiments of christians on this subject, he

could not ha;ve called their refui^al to live on the terms that he proposed to them obstinacy,, because it had a natural and real foundation, the bea;-in<<- of an evil of short continuance, however severe, for a degree of happiness that would be an abundant, re compcnce for it.

The Stoics, indeed, held out as we liave seen a kind of immortality to man, in those great revoluti- ons, to which they supposed that, at certain periods, every thing in nature would be subject, so tliat as every thing had once been in the very state in which it now is, it will sometime hence revert to tlie very same, and so without end, and without a- ny improvement. But besides that this notion, which is also entertained by the Hindoos, and pro- bably came into Greece from the East, is destitute of all foundation, and could haidly be seriously believed by any man, how inferior is it to that Kind of immoilaUty that clmistians are taught to

expect.'

236 ©F THE PHILOSOPHy ^

expect ! A state of existence that will not only have no end, but that will be continually improv- ing ; an idea most sublime and transporting, and which is countenanced even by present appeai^ances, as we actually observe the state of mankind, and of tvtry thing we see, to be in a state of improvement.

Compared with the cold indifference, (and this no doubt in a great measure affected) with which Marcus Antoninus speaks of meeting death, how short docs ii: fall of the joy, and even rapture, with which the apostle Paul speaks of his approaching end! (2. Tim. c. iv. v. 6.) / am now ready to hs offered^ and the time of my departure is at hand. I haiie fought tJie good fight. I hai^e finished my course. I hai^e kept the Jaith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness^ which the Lord^ the righteous judge^ shall give me at that day ; and not to ??ie oidy^ hut unto all them also that love his appearing. What an idea does this give us of the infinite superiority of the principles of Christianity to those of heathen philosophy of every kind!

The probability is, that Marcus Antoninus held the christians (few of whom pretended to any know- ledge of philosophy) in too great contempt to make- any proper inquiry into their sentiments, or to

read

Of THE STOICS. 237

read their writings. He had learned, he says, (Lib. i. sect. 6.) '■ of Diognetus not to spend his *' time about tiifies, nor to give credit to those who *' dealt in inchantments and exorcisms, and other " impostures of that nature." And bein^- under the influence, as he evidently was, of the Greek phi- loaophers, and taking all his lessons from them, he was no doubt, taught to believe that all tlie miracles the christians pretended lo, as the foundatioii of their religion, v/ere no better founded than such inchantments and exorcisms as many of the Iiea-^ thens also pretCLded to.

So educated and instructed, he could not have any proper idea of the firm faith and hope of chris- tians, which, without any aid of speculative philo- sophy, enabled them to bear, with what he calls o^- stinacy^ all the tortures that he, in so unrelenting a manner, ordered to be inflicted upon them. What could his boasted philosophy do in ccmpaiison with this ? Thus was the 'wisdom of this world, with every advantage that time and rejection could give it, mere foolishness, as the apostle called it, compared m ith the simple doctrines of Christianity, which were intelligible and efficacious v. ith the low- est, and least exercised understanding, as well as the highest^ Indeed, the admirable plainness, and

238 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

as well as superior excellence of its principles, le- vels all distinctions of this and of every other kind. ^0 the poor the gospel is' preached, as M'ell as to the rich ; and it is equally intelligible to them. Ac- cording to the gospel, as in the eye of God, all men are equal. It is conferred as a common blessing on all his offspring of mankind.

But M-ith this excellent religion Mai'cus Antoni- nus was unacquainted, and from his pride as a philosopher, which is sufficiently conspicuous in hi3 writings, his contempt of the ne%D doctrine of christians, who made no account of his philoso- phy, or any other, his zeal for the welfare of the em^ pire, at the head of which he was placed, and on which his glorj- depended, which, with all other heathens, he imagined to have some unknown con- nection with the obsei-vance of those antient rites, in which the christians refused to join, he might, without any particular cruelty in his disposition, direct the persecution which continued during the whole of his reign. It is farther probable that he only heard of the sufferings of the christians through the unfavourable accounts of his officers, who would naturally be disposed to ridicule, and make light of them, and to flatter him with respect to the success of his measures. And thus, with- out

OF THE STOICS. 23^

6ut hearkening to any remonsti'ance or intreaty, and resisting, as his philosophy taught him to do, every irotion o^ compassion^ which he might think was farther unbecoming him as an emperor, he might persist as he did without remorse, in those rjgorous proceedings as long aS he lived. He had less knowledge of Christianity than Julian, and there-fore less guilt ; as in all respects he was a much superior cliaracter.

Q' TUR.

24©

THE

PHILOSOPHY

Of ARPJAN AND SENEGA.

INTRODUCTION.

C

kJENECA and Arriaii were both men of the

w orld, and statesmen ; the former tutor to Nero, and tlie latter distinguished by the most honoura- ble employments under Adrian, and the succeed- ing emperors. But both of them were great wri- ters, and both made profession of the Stoic philo- sophy. Arrian was a disciple of Epictetus, and the Enchiridion was composed by him from the sayings of his master. Seneca appears to have been well acquainted with all the sects of the Greek phi- losophy, and he particularly quotes a great num- ber of the sayings of Epicurus, but he preferred the philosophy of the Stoics to any other.

" Others," he says (De Const. Sap. c. 1.) " pro- ^' cced in a gentle manner, but the Stoics endea,

*' voui«

OF THE STOICS. 241

" voiir to rai3e men at once to the hi^^licst pitch <' of excellence." This philosopliy, indeed, may be said to have been the greatest effort of hu man ge- nius on the important subject o^ religion and mo- rals^ in which the proper conduct of life, under all the evils of it, and the prospect of death, subjects so highly interesting to all men, are particularly in- sisted upon. I have, however, chosen to give the details of it from Marcus Antoninus and Epicte- tus, rather than from Seneca or Arrian, because tlie former, not being writers by profession, as we may consider the others to have been, may be sup- posed to have expressed their sentiments without exaggeration ; so that we are in less danger of being misled by any thing like oratory in their works. Some valuable illustrations, hov/ever, of the Stoi- cal principles will be found in the writings of Sene- ca and Arrian, and expressed with more empha- sis, for which we may make what allowance we think proper. '

Section I.

Of God and Providence.

The Stoics strictly followed Socrates in the be- Hef of the being, and of the wise and benevolent

Q 2. previa

243 OF THE PJfltOSOPH?

providence, of a supreme intelligence, whether it resided in one subject or man3\ Indeed, on this all their distinguishing maxims, especially that of the soul of mim being apoilion of this intelligence, *uici retaining its powers, depended. Other philo- sophers held various opinions on this subject. Ar- rian gives the following account of them.

" Concerning the gods,*' he says, (Lib. i. cap. 12.) "some say there are no gods; others that they " exist, but take no care of any thing ; others that " they exist, but take no care of any besides ce- *' Icslial things; others that they attend both to " celestial and terrestrial things, but only in a gene- *' ral way ; others, like Ulysses and Socrates, say

" that we cannot even move without God." Ar- rian liim.self proves the being of a god from the wonderful frame of the world (Lib. i. cap. 6.) He even supposes that God made the sun^ which Mar- cus Antoninus, and the heathens in general, sup- posed to be itself a deity. " Can that God who " made the sun^ and guides it," he says (Lib. i. cap. 14.) *' a small pait of his works compared to " the universe, not see all things." Seneca also says (Ep. 41.) " such a system as this could not " stand \\ithout the support of the deity. When *' you are most alone," sars Arrian (Lib, i.

cap.

OJ THE STOICS. 245

cap. 14.) " God is within )oii ; your gcni- ** us is within you. Do they require light to ** see what you do ?" See also Seneca, (Ep. 41.)

Like Socmtes, the Stoics connected good mo- jrals with their regard to God. Arrian having mentioned the deity says (Lib. ii. cap. 14.) " such *' as tlie deity is, such will be those who endea- " vour to please him. If he be faithful, they ^vill " be so. If he be beneficent, they will be so. If he ** be magnanimous, they will be so." He sliews at large the great danger that would not fail to re- sult to society from a general neglect of religion. *' Then," says he (Lib. ii. cap. 20.) "justice is ** nothing, modesty is folly, and the relation of fa- *' ther and son is as nothing."

The constant presence, and assistance, of God was thought by some of the Stoics to be necessary to all good men. *' There is no good man," says Seneca (Ep. 41.) " without God. Ko person can *' rise above fortune, but as assisted by him. It is *' he that gives great and exalted councils. God," he says, " removes from good men every evil, all " wickedness , evil thoughts, blind lust, avarice," &c. (De Provid. chap. 6-) He did not, howe\cr, suppose that the divine guide of each particular person was a deity of the higliest rank. For he

Q 3. says

244 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

bays (Ep. 110.) " Every person has a god for his " guide, but one of an inferior kind."*

The union of this intelHgent principle, which occasionally descended to the earth to the aid of men, is thus expressed by Seneca (Ep. 41.) " As ** the rays of the sun reach to the earth, but arc ** still united to their source; so a great and sa- *' cred mind, being sent down hither that we may *' have a nearer view of divine things, converses " with us, but adheres to its original. "

It is not easy to say what the heathen philoso- phers and others thought o^ fate, and the relation that the gods bore to it. Sometimes they seem to have thought that they directed fate, at other times that fate was a powcrindependent of them, and that controlled them. Seneca seems to have thought that fate was nothing more than the will of the gods themselves. "Theauthorand governor of all things" he says (Prov. v. cap. 1.) "wrote the fates, but " he follows them. He orders, but always obeys. *' Some things must always please God (Quaest. *' Nat. Lib. i. praef ) because the best things *' only please him. Nor is he on tliis account less

"free,

* Those of this class of deities that attended wo- men wsre by the heathens called Juno's.

OF THE STOICS. 245

" free, or powerful ; for he is his own necessity. *' If this be not the case, it would not be worth *' wliile to be born."

It was tiiken for granted by all the later philoso- phers, that the gods were incapi'.ble of anger^ as well as all good men ; and the natural consequence of this opinion was that there could be no future punishment for the wicked , which took away a great motive against the commission of vice. *' The immortal gods," says Seneca (De Ira. Lib. ii. c. 27.) " neither will any anger, nor can indulge *' in any. Their nature is mild, and placid, as re- *' mote from injuring others as themselves. No *' man in his senses" he says (De Benef. Lib. IV. cap. 19.) " fears God, for it is madness to fear " what is salutaiy ; nor can any person love what *' he fears. No person is so much a child as to be *' afraid of Cerberus." And he joins the Epicur reans in their contempt of every thing in the infer- nal regions. (Ep. 24.)

' It appears from the writings of Arrian, that die common people among tlie heathens were very re- ligious in their way. " No person," he says (Lib. iii. cap. 21.) " leaves a port without sacrificing to " tlie gods J nor do husbandmen sow without in-

Q 4, '"'■ yoking

24 ©r THI PHILOSOPHY

" yoking Geres. Would any person who should *' iieglect such duties be safe ?"

He must have thought, however, that such rites as these took the place of duties of n\ore importance, when he said (Lib. ii. cap. 7.) " By means of un- " seasonable divination many duties are neglects *' ed,"

Section II. Of the Soul of Man y and its Po%ver,

We have seen enough, it might be thought, of the consequences which the Stoics drevv^ from their opinion of the derivation of the souls of men from the supreme intelligence, in ascribing to them si- milar powers, especially that of absolute self-suffi- ciency, and a total independence on every thing fo- reign to itself, even, on the body, to which it is, however, necessarily connected at present. But aitogant as is the language of Marcus Antoninus and Epictetus on the subject, it falls short of that of Seneca.

One obvious similarity between God and man is their relation to matter. " The place," says Seneca {Ep. 65.) " that God has in the world, the

" mind

OF THE STOICS. 247'

)

" mind has in man. He works upon matter, and *' the mind upon the body." But he surely could not think that the supreme mind was as necessari- ly attached to the material system as to be affected by every thing that passes in it, as the mmd is by the affections of the body ; which, though it may make light of it, has no power to free itself. The union of the soul with the supreme iatelligence, notwithstanding its present separation from it, is _

thus maintained by Seneca. *' There is nothing," A

he says, (Ep. 92.) *' improper in endeavouring to '

" ascend from whence we came. Why should " we not think there is something divine in a good " man, since he is part of God. The whole sys- *' tem is one, and is God. We ai'e his compani- '* ens, and members of him."

To christians, who believe that there is an infi- nite difference between God and man ; and his in- finite superiority to us, notwithstanding our being^ said to be Jiiade in his image, and to resemble him in some respects, the language of Seneca respect- ing their equality is truly shocking. " A good " man," he says, (De Provid. chap. 1. & 2.) " dif- *' fers from God pnly with respect to time. He is his *' disciple, his emulator, and true offspring, whom^ " he educates with severity, to prepare him for )

Q5. '-him

248. OF THE PHILOSOPHY

" himself; but no real evil can befal a ,s^ood man. *' God," he farther says (Ep, 73.) " is not superi- *' or to man in happiness, but only in time ; and " virtue is not greater for being of longer continu- " ance." What he says above of God training up good men to prepare them for himself is a truly fine sentiment, though connected with so much extravagance.

Seneca goes beyond Marcus Antoninus in his boasting of the all sufficiency of the mind of man with respect to happiness, and its independence on every thing foreign to itself. "It is," he says, (De Consol. ad. Helv. c. 5.) " in the power cfeve- *' ry man to make himself happy. With respect to himself," he says, " I assure you I am not unhap- *' py, (miserum)," and, moreover, that I cannot be *' so (lb. c. 4.) If small things cannot affect a wise *' man, (De Constant. Sap. c. 15.) neither can *' greater things ; if not a few, neither many. I " would persuade you never to pity a good man, *' De Prov. c. 3.) for though he may seem to be *' muserable, he cannot be so."

To many this would seem a difficult attainment, but not so to our author. " What does reason *' require of man, but the easiest things, (Ep. 41.) "viz. to live according to nature. A wise man is

" no

r

or THE STOICS. 24y

** no creature of imagination. There are many *' examples of it, and Cato seems to have exceed- " ed what was required of him." (De Const. Sap,

C.7.

This extraordinarj^ power, it is evident, howe- ver, that Arrian restricts to philosophers. " Philoso- *' phy," says he, (Lib. ii. cap. 1. j " allows none to " be free, but those who have been instructed {TreTvai- *"• hviLivci) that is, God does not permit it." Again A

he says, (Lib. ii. cap. 19.) " Shew me a person /

"who is sick and happy, in danger and happy, " dying and happy, banished and happy, disgraced *' and happy, such a one is a Stoic." But, sure- Iv, such a one is rather a christian, his source of consolation under the evils mentioned alone, be- ing infinitely superior to any that the Stoics could have recourse to, and accessible to persons of the meanest capacity, such as they could never have adopted, or indeed have understood, viz. the distinction of things within the power of the mind, and things foreign to it, in the sense of the Stoics. As to dying circumstances, there cannot, surely, be a question of the superior happiness of tlie chris- tian, for reasons obvious enough, and enlarged up- on in the preceding section, .

" The

/

250 OP THE PHILOSOPHY

The power of the mind over the body is rathe?-* more strongly expressed by x^rrian than by any other Stoic writer, " My body,", he saya, (Lib. iii. cap.) 22. « is not me, its parts are nothing to *' m.e. DeaUi is nothing to me, let it come when *' kwill." He supposes a dialogue between a ty- rant and a philosopher that is truly cunous for tlie extravagance of it. The tyrant says (Lib. i. cap. L) *' You shall die." The philosopher repHes, " but *' not lamenting. T. You shall be in chains. P. '' But not whining. T. You shall be banished. " P. But what hinders my going laughing. T. " Tell me your secrets. P. No, that is in my *' power. T. But I will throw you into chains. *' P. What say you, man? You may bind my " feet, but Jupiter himself cannot change my reso- " lution. T. I will throw you into prison, and *' strike off your head. P. And did I ever say "■ that you could not strike it off? T. I will kill ** you. P. When did I say that I was immortal? '* These things," he says, *must be thought of, '^ and meditated upon."

In one place, however, Arrian seems w illing to make some allowance for the weakness of human nature, and especially on account of the necessary influence of the body over the mind. " If the

" n-ods,"

OF THE STOICS. 251

V

b

gcxls," lie saj-'s, (Lib. i. cap. 1.) " were willing '^^ to gi-ant us tlie command of the thins^s that arc "" out of out power, tl\ey could not do it. For *' while v.'c Qi'C upontha earth, and ai'C tied' to such " bodies, and, such companions, hov/ is it possible *' but that tilings foreign to us must be an hnpedi* *' ment to us."

Seneca, whose luxurious and splendid mode or living did but ill correspond with the maxims of his philosophy, and whose flattery of the emperor, whom he must have despised, was fuisomxC in the -extreme, secins disposed to make stiil more allow- ance for the weakness of human nature than any other of the Stoics. " I would prefer pleasure," he says, (Ep. 66.) *' to pain if the choice was *' proposed to me, because the former is more a- ^' greeable to nature, and the latter contrary to it.'' But for the very same reason, is not every thing that men call good more agreeable to nature, than those that we agree to call e'viis ; and how, on this concession, could pleasure and pain be classed a- mong the things that ar^ perfectly indiiferent to a philosopher ?

When his luxurious life was objected to him, he said, after reciting the particulai's of it. " These ** things are apud me, (in my possession) but at

" the

2«2 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

" the same time they .nre extra me, (foreign to me, " i. e. to :nT mind") (De Vita, beata. cap. 25.} a *' pretty nice, but convenient distinction." Ac- cording to him, a more inc:enious acknovledp-- ment was made by Plato and Epicurus, vhen the same objection was m.ade to them. For they said, " that men should live according to what diey " thought, not as they themselves lived." (lb 18.) It is not probable, however, that either of these men would have said this in earnest. Others may have said it for them, as Jesus did of thcl Scribes and Pharisees.

Section III. Of Moral Precepts.

Arrlan has many excellent moral precepts ; but as they are similar to those of Marcus Antoninus above recited, they need not be repeated here. A- mong other thangs he says, (Lib. ii. cap. 6.) '* Life " is a thing indifferent, but not so the use of it. *' Difficulties shew who are men. When you " meet with them (Lib. i. cap. 24.) remember ** that God is making you engage with a rough and ** expert antagonist."

As

Of THE STOICS, 253

As the Stoics made no allo\vance ?oy the Indul- gence of any passion^ or emotion, which they refer- red to mere animal nature, diey equally condemn-, ed anger and compassion. " Anger," says Seneca (De Ira ii. cap. 14.) " is never to be indulged, but " only the appeai'ance of it to excite others as a " spur to a horse. A good man (lb. 6.) is inca- *' pable of inflicting punishment; but anger is a " punishment, and therefore anger it not natural." On this subject, as well as on eveiy odier how much more natural is the doctrine of the scrip- tures, which aims not at the extirpations of any of our passions, but only at the due regulation of them. Be ye angry, but sin not. Let not the sun go down upon your wrath. " Compassion," he says (Clem. ii. cap. 4.) " is a vice of the mind, " in the view of the miseries of others. A wise *' man will relieve a person that weeps, but he will •' not weep with him (cap. 6.) He will relieve the *' distressed, but w"ithout feeling compassion."

On the subject of self murder Arrian seems to be inconsistent. " God," he says (Lib. i. cap. 29.) " requires such a world as this, and those tliat are " in it. If he order a retreat, as in the case of So- ** crates, we should yield obedience, as to a com-

"mander

V

254 OF THt PHILOSOPHY

'^'' mander in chief." But on another occasion h.t Supposes that men have a right to judge for them- selves in this Case, without waiting for the orders bf any superior* Addressing a discontented per- son he says, (Lib.i. cap. .9) " You slave,if you be *' not satisfied, go out of life. The gate is open.'*

Seneca is quite decided in favour of the latter opi- nion. *' If you dislike life," he says (De Prov. c. 6.) the door is open. If you will not fight, you " may fly." He frequently commends Cato for putting an end to his own life : He even says (Ep- 13.) " Take away the sword from Cato, and you " take from him a great part of his glory *'

The indifference that he expressed to life or deatli would appear affected, as his language certainly is on other occasions, but that he actually did meet death with sufficient fortitude, at the command of a cruel and capricious tyrant. " Death," he says (Ep. 24.) " is so far from being to be feared, that *' nothing is to be preferred to the benefit to be de- " rived from it." Lipsius, however, proposes a- nother reading) which softens this. He also says (Ep. 54.) *' We know what death is. It is to be " what we were before we were bom, when we " had no sense of ^-yi/." But it follows from this that neither shall we have after death a sense of any

good*

OF THE STOICS. 255

good. And this seems to have been the real opi. nion of all the later heathen philosophers, not- withstanding what they sometimes say of the im- mortality of the soul. When, in his eloquent manner, he describes the destruction and renovati- on of the world he says (De Consolatione adMarci- am. cap. 26.) "We also, happy souls, when it *' shall please God to renew all things, shall only ** be a small addition to the immense ruin, and " shall be changed into theantient elements."

What he says to Marcia, (cap. 25.) of her son being received by the Scipio's and Cato's ; &:c. af- ter his death, could only be said by way of accom- modation to her opinion, and as a topic of consola- tion, and not liis o\mi real belief.

R. THE

25S

1 U E

*

PHILOSOPHY of

EPICURUS.

INrRODUCriON,

1 HE only sect of Grecian philosophy that rc- jiiair.ii to be considered, as coming within my ob- ject, of a comparison of them mth the system of revelation, is that ol Epicurus which arose present- ly after tliat of the Stoics, to which it was, in many respects, opposite and hostile ; the one being re- markable for its austerity, and the other for its ease in the conduct of life ; the one for a belief in a di- vine providence, as superintending eveiy thing in the world, and the other for the utter neglect and contempt of religion in every form. There was also another source of opposition and hostility be- tween the two. All the philosophers w ho had pre- ceeded Epicurus, the Stoics among the rest, had deserted the plain maxims of Socrates, and spent

the

OF THE PHILOSOPHY, &.C, 257

the greatest part of their thne on Logic and Meta- physicks, of no use whatever in the conduct of life; whereas Epicurus, following th.e steps of their common master, held all their subtle disputa- tions oijl these su!3Jects in tlie greatest contempt, and made the true enjoyment of life the great ob- ject of his philosophy. And considering that tlte great doctrine of a future state M'as in fact exclud- ed from all their systems, there was more of reason and good sense in the maxims of Epicurus than in theirs; especially as, though he maintiiined that pleasure was the great end of life, he did not, as we shall see, mean sensual pleasure, but the happiness of man upon the whole, in which temperance, and eveiy virtue, was an essential ingTcdient.

Epicurus also differed from other philosophers in the circumstances of his teaching, more resem- bling a society of friends, than that of master and scholars. Their meetings were held in a private garden of his ov/n ; and the friendship of this fra- ternity Cicero spake of in the higlie.st terms. (A- ca^l. Lib. 20.) though they had not every thing in common, like the disciples of Pythagoras.

Though we have no proper ?/-(,YJ//iv of Epicu^ rus, we have several of his/?//fr.9 preserved by Di- ogenes Lacvtius, especialiy ona to Herodotus, in

\{ 2, ^vhich

258 OF THE philosofhY

Vvhich he professes to give an outline of liis princi- ples. And the poem of Lucretius contains a dc- velopement of the whole of his philosophy. From these it is easy to form a very complete idea of his tenets ; and from these, and some of his savines quoted by Seneca, the follov»ing account is given*

Section I. Of God and of the Structure of the Unhersc.

Kpicurus's tiiumph o\er religion in all its forms, and (hereby delivering men from the fear of death, wa.s the great boast of all his followers-, this victoiy (Lucretius says Lib. i. V, 78.) has raised men from cardi to heaven, and by this means he has conferred greater benefit on mankind than Ce- res in giving them bread, or Bacchus in giving them wine (lb. Lib. v. V. 15.) Religion he consi- dered as having done unspeakable mischief to man- kind, and in particular inctances the sacrifice of Iphigenia, the daughter of Agamemnon to Dia- na, of vvhich he gives a very aJBfecting description. (Lucret. Lib. i. V. ^^.)

Epicurus did not, however deny the existence of gods, and though this is commonly thought to

have

OF THE STOICS. 259

have been only witli a view to his safety ; since by an open profession of atheism he would have been exposed to the rigour of the Athenian laws, I think he might have been very sincere in that opinion ; thinking, with all other philosophers, that every part of the universe was replete Avitli inhabitants, suited to their natures, the gods occupying the higher regions, demons the middle, and men the earth, Wliat he openly maintained v/as that, tho* tliere are gods they take no thought about the affairs of this world. *' The gods," he says (Diog. Laert. pag. 785.) " are immortal " and happy beings *** but not such as the. ** vulgar opinion makes them to be;" an^ hav- ing said that happiness is two fold, he adds that

** supreme happiness is that of the gods which ad- " mits of no addition." (lb 783-4.) ,

The reason that he srivesfor this opinion is, that happiness could not consist with the ti'ouble and care which he thous-ht must attend the govern- ment of the world, though he seems to have thought that they had something to do in the up- per regions, which are nearest to them. Speaking of the motions, and other properties of meteors, he says (lb. 755.) " They are not directed by an}'- ^' tiling besides the order and appointment of him

" ' -ho

C62

THE PHILOSOPHY

i

*' who h?s all happiness arc! immorlality. For It is inconsistent with happiness to have business, and cares, or to be affected by anger, or favour, " These belong to beings subject to infirmity, and " fear, who stand in need of others." Again he says, (lb. 755.) " Wh.oeveris happy, andimmor- *' tai, neither iias any troublesome business him- •' self, nor gives trouble to ethers ; and in conse- " quenee of this he is neither moved by anger " or favour."

As to the charge of impiety he says, (lb. 786.) *' he is not guilty of imp-ery who lakes from the *' multiplicity of Gods, but he who adopts the opi- *' nion of the multitude concerning them," Lu- cretius ascribes the origin, and the frightful eifects ofreligionupon t]ie human mind, in part to what people see, or imagine they see, in dreams, as well as to the regular course of the heavenly bodies, and to llie terror excited b}^ storms, thunder, light- ening, eaidiquakcs, &c. For seeing no cause of these things, men ascribe them to some un- known invisible beings, w^iose power was great, and tremendous. (Lucret. Lib. v. V. 1165. &:c.

Considering the vulgai* superstition, and the Serious effects of it in human sacrifices, prostituti-

one

OF THE STOICS.- 261

ens in religious rites, diviniiticn, and its distruct- ing influence in the common business of life, it may well be questioned whether it was not \iiser, with Epicurus, to reject it altogether, than to re- tain it in any fomi or degree. Nay I doubt not but the system of Polytheism and Idolatry took more from the happiness of mankind than either Epicurus or Lucretius suspected. Epicurus, hiowcver, well knew that none of the philosophers maintained the vulgar opinions, but much more honourable ideas of tlie divinity a_nd the govern- ment of the world, opinions Iiiglily pleasing to good men, and perhaps some restraint upon the wicked ; and we shall see that his ideas of the government of the v/orld, and the direction of it, whicli diftcied exceedingly from those of other philosopliers, were absurd in the extreme, in supposing tliat there was no wisdom, design, or a regard to final causes, in things that most of all required them.

The Atomical system, which was opposed to that of Plato, and most other philosophers, \\ ho held that the world was formed b}^ an intelligent principle, out of pre-existent matter, and tliat it was finite, M^as first suggested by Democritus, but adopted by Epicurus. He maintained that there was no wisdom employed in the arrangement of

R 4. any

262 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

any part of the system, but that it arose from the fortuitous concourse of atoms, moving atranr^om in all directions. *' These atoms" he says, (Diog, Laert. p. 741.) " have no properties besides thase ''of figure, gravity and magnitude; but being ^' perfectly hard, though of different forms, they " are incapaljc of destruction, or change." The construction of the world, according to Lucretius, is too faulty to have arisen from a principle of in- telligence and design^ (Lucret. Lib, ii. V. 180.)

The universe having come into existence from these materials, " it must," Epicurus says (lb. 733.) " be infinite. For had there been any bounds *' to it, the parts of which it consists would have "been dispersed into infinite space; having no " place to fix in, and nothing to stop their motion," moreover, since the giving these floating atoms ever}^ chance for their fortunate meeting, so as to form such a complete system as this, must have rC' quired almost infinite time before it could have takei: place, he maintained, contrary to the opinion of many other philosophers that " the world had a " beginning, and will have an end. (Lib. v. V. 245.) Siiice the continual contention, and dispo- sitio-: to motion, in the elements of Avhich it con- sists V, ill in course of time effect its compleat dis- solution

OF THE STOICS. 263

^lution. He even thought there were ah-eady evident signs of a tendency to decay and disso- lution in the earth, and that there has been a great ^ degeneracy in all its productions, animals being now of less size and strength than the v were for- ^ merly, and all the products of tlic earth requiring the labour of man which they did not originally, TVhen everything for the use of man was produced by it spontaneously (Lucret. Lib. ii. V. 1150. and 1170.) so that in time every thing will probably decline more and more, and the whole go to decay and ruin. But since nothing could be formed out of nothing, the atoms of which it consists can only be dispersed to form other systems, and can ne- ver be annihilated (Lucret. Lib. i. V. ISO. ?j.2lQ.) But before this event takes place Epicurus main- tained that, with the exception of the gradual de- cay mentioned above, " every thing is now as it *< ever has been, and Vvdll continue to \jq ; since there is nothing into which it can be changed, and no superior power to make a change in it. (Diog. Laert. p. 732.)

In the same manner as tliis world was formed, viz. by the random concourse of atoms, since the universe has no bounds, " other worlds," Epicu- rus says (Diog. Laert. p. 735. and 7.:y.} *'have,

II 5. '' no

264 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

*'' no doubt been formed in die same manner ; and " there is no reason \\ hy there miiy not be an in- " finity of them, similar or disslmilai- to this. " For the atoms of which they are cctaposed are. " innnitc, and earned to the greatest distances."

Such wild and absurd schemes, aliop-edirr un- worlliy of examination or refutatio/i, may the mcst ineenious of men be led to form for want of at- tcntion to a few' fundamental principles, and those of the most obvious nature. For what can be more evident than that tlicre are infinite marks of design, and a\ hat we call contrivance, in the struc- ture of the world, and of every plant and animal in it. Epicurus must have maintained that the eye was not formed for seeing, nor the ear for hear- m^\ but that being: so formed, by this fortuitous concourse of atoms, they were found to be capa- ble of these particular uses. Other philosophers, however, were not backward to acknow ledge the reality of final causes, and consequently of design in the structure of the world, and of every part of it, and it iscerti\inly unspeakably more satisfactory to acknowlcde, than to deny, this. We have then some superior intelligence to look to, as a be- ing to whom this world, and ourseh cs as a part of it, belong ; and w-ho will tal:e some care of w hat

with

or THE STOICS. 265

with such exquisite skill, he. has pkmned and exe- cuted.

/ Section II.

Of the Human Soul.

Since, according to Epicurus, ever}- thing is in a perpetual flux, through the constant tendency to motion in its primary atoms, it could not be sup- posed that he Vw^ould, with many other philoso- phers, 4naintain eitlier the pre-existence, or the im- mortality of the soul. Accordingly he denies, and even ridicules, them both ; using however one just argument, though he was little aware of the real nature or extent of it, viz. "All thought arises from the impression made on the bodily senses," (Diog. Laert. p. 727.) thinking it to follow from this, that the soul, on which the impressions were made, was equally corporeal with the objects from which they came.

His principal argument, however, is that there is nothing in nature besides body and space^ in which bodies can be placed, and moved. " There " is nothing," he says (lb. 732) " but what can *' be handled," or jjecome the object of our sen- ses.

^66 .OF TKE PHILOSOPHY

ses.'^ " We cannot even form an idea of anv tbinjy ** else. Nothing," he says, (lb. 749.) " is incor- ** poreal,'' (which all other philosophers held the soul to be) " l>csides a vacuum^ \\\wd\ only affords *' room for bodies to move in." He adds " they '* who say that the soul is incorporeal talk fool- *' ishly. (^«7a/a^o/cra)"

The soul, dien, being corporeal, must be a part of the body, as much as the hands or the feet (Lu- cret. Lib. iii. v. 95.) each havhig their several functions ; and as the soul had no pre-existence, it must have been produced at the same time with the body, gi'ow up, and decay, \vith it. (Lucret. Lib. iii. V. 455.). Being a body, it must consist of particles of some particular kind or form, and *' those that constitute the soul," he says, (Diog. Laert. p. 747.) " are the smallest and roundest of *' all J but they must be dispersed when the body " dies, as every other part of itis." (lb. 748.)

It is difficult to form, any clearer consistent idea of Epicurus's opinion concerning the different parts of the soul, of their several functions, and place in the body. In his letter to Herodotus he mentions only t\vo parts, one that has reason, and another that is destitute of it. " The rational

" part,"

OF THE STOICS. 2G7

" part," he says (lb. 748.) "rchidcs in the breast, " as is marjfestfrom the passions of fear andjoy.'*' But, according to Lucretius, there are three, or c- ven four parts in the soul ; and yet when he speaks pf three parts, he mentions only tlic Animus :ind the Jni?72a; but the third seems to be the breath "vvhich leaves us when we die. (Lucret. Lib. iii. V. 231. to 245.) Afterwards, however, he says that these three parts are not sufficient, but that ** a fourth which has no name must be added, and *' this is tiie cause of universal sensation ; though, " like the other parts, it consists of the smallest par- «' tides of matter.'* (Lucret. Lib. iii V. 236.) That heat enters into the composition of die soul^ appears, he says, (Lucret. Lib. iii. V. 290.) whsn we are angry, and in the habits of fierce animals, as lions, &c. and that air is another part of it, appears when we are cool and serene, and in the cold dispositions of the deer, and tanie ani- mals.

Since the soul, according to Epicurus, is not immortal, death must be die extinction of our be- ing; and the dread of this is represented by him and Lucretius as the greatest of all e\ ils, and what most of all tends to embitter human lite, as it must to those who have any enjoyment of it, and have

nothing

2C8 OF THE PHILOSOPHY

nothing to look to beyond it. *• Take a young *' man," he says, as he is quoted by Seneca (Ep. 22.) " an old man, or one of middle age, you will •* find them equally afraid of dying, though equal- *' ly ignorant of life." In order to relieve the mind from this teiTor, he says with other philoso- phers, (lb. 786.) " Accustom yourself to think *' that deadi is nothing to us. For both good and " evil consist in sensation, and death is a privation •' of all sense.'' Again hesa3^s, (lb. 786.) " death, " the most dreadful of all evils, is nothing to us; " because while we live death is not present, and " when death comes we are not." This poor wit- ticism is not, hov;ever, calculated to give much consolation to a man who is sensible of the approach of death, and who is unwilling to part with life.

There are two sentences of Epicurus concern- ing death, preserved by Seneca, which have more of good sense in them. " It is," he says (Ep 24.) *' ridiculous to fiy to death through a wearisome- " ness of life, after living in such a manner as that " death is the only and the last resource." A- gain (Ep. 26.) " Think whether it is more desira- " ble for death to come to us, or for us to go to it ; '• that is, since death will come, it is better to meet

"it

OP THE STOICS. 269

*' it chcerfiill}-." But in \Tiin are all the topics of consolation against the fear of deatli to men who love life, and yet have no hope of survi\ ing the grave, and this hope is no where given but in re- velation.

Section III. Of Human Life and Happiness.

Admitting what, in fact, all the Grecian phiIos<v phers did, viz. that there is no future state, the maxims of Epicurus respecting this life, and the proper objects of clioicc in it, are far more reason- able than those of any of the other sects. Since (as he insinuates) there is no life beyond this, " It *' is," he says (Diog. Laert. p. 758.) " our bu- " siness to make the most of the things that ai'C " present, and exclude all causes of anxiety. The ** end of all," he says, (lb. 788.) " is to live well, " and happily. For we do every thing to avoid "grief and perturbation." He therefore adds, (lb. 789.) that " pleasure is the end and object of *' hfe, but not all kinds of pleasure. For some " we decline because they are all attended with

** more pam, and some pains vvc chuse for the sake

" of

270 or THE PHILOSOPHY

*' of the pleasures that fc^llow them. Perturbati- *' on," he says, (lb. 758.) " is Incident to men in *' tins liic, especiall)' to those who dread what, ac- " cording to fabulous accounts, we may meet with *' after death, as if there was any thnig after death. *' But by hving without perturbation we live," he says, fib. 759.) "as gods among men." For this we have seen to be his idea of the state of the

gods.

It is probable that Epicurus was led by natural

incrnitition to a quiet unambitious life. This he thought to be most favourable to the true enjoy- ment of it, and therefore he recommended it to o- thers, and advised them to avoid whatever might interfere with it. "A wise man," he says (lb. 782.) " will marry and have children, but he will "have no concern in public affairs." This was probably to avoid every jealousy and opposition, wdth all the unpleasant consequences of them, un- avoidable to men in public life. For it could not be from idleness, in a man who wrote so many books, and who employed so much of his time in the instruction of others. From a similar motive he might say, (lb. 784.) " A wise man will make " use of poems, but will not compose any him- " self." Agreeably to this he says, (lb. 761.)

"the

OF THE STOICS. 271

" the happiness of lifj does not require vanity, or " vain glory," which he might think to be particu- larly conspicuous in poets, '' but in tranquility " and security."

In order to secure his flivourite tranquility, he recommended the practice of universal \irtue ; and according to all accounts, his own life was without reproach in this respect. " The virtues," he says, (lb. 795.) " are chosen for the sake of pleasure, *'and not on their own account;" which is true when properly explained. For when the two are compai-ed, happiness appears to be the end^ and virtue the means, though the necessary means, to

attain it.

He justly represents the chief cause of perturba- tion, and consequently of unhappiness \\\ general, to be wrong dispositions of mind, which he says it is the business of philosophy to correct. " What "men suffer," he says, (lb. 781.) "from hatred, *' envy or contempt, a man may overcome by rea- " son ; and he who has once been wise will not " acquire different habits, or yield to any cause of " perturbation, or to any thing else that may retard " his progress in knov.-ledge. A wise man," he says, (lb. 784.) " will not be affected if another be

S. " ^'ud

272 CF THE J'lIlLOSOPliy

" snid to be \a ker than I.e." On this account he re- commends an application to philosophy at all times of life. " If any pcrccn say it is too scon or too *' late to apply to pliilosophy, it is, he says, the same " t!ilni>- as if he said it is too late or too soon to be " happy." (lb. 785.)

The life of Epicurus was according to all ac- counts conformable to his precepts ; and so far Mas he or his disciples from habits of self-indul- gence, that no persons li\'ed more abstemiously, on the plainest food, and drinking little besides water, (lb. 713.) What he himself says on this subject, (lb. 790.) is particularly deserving of attention.

We consider frugality," he says, "as a great " good, not that we should always live sparingly, " but that v\hen we cannot do otherwise, we may " be satisfied v. ith a litde, and have a greater en- " joyment of abundance when we have it. Plain *' bread and water give the greatest pleasure when "they are wanted; and to accustom ones'selfto " plain food, not exquisitely prepared, contri- " bates both to health and activity for all the pur- " poses of life, and mr.kes us not to dread bad for- " tune. Wl:en, therefore, we say that pleasure is " the end of life, it is net the pleasure of the luxu- " rious and the spendthrift, which consists in eat-

"ing

OF THE STOICS. 273

" ing and drinking to excess, which come, tlirough *' ignorance or perverseness, say that we maintain, " but to be free from pain of body and to enjoy " tranquility of mind, free from all perturbation. *' There is no living pleasantly but by living pru- " dently, honorably, and iustly. For the ^■irtues " are connected with a delightful and pleasant life, *' and cannot be seperated from them." Epicu- rus must have been of a pleasant, social, and bene- volent turn of mind, to have attached so many per- sons to him as is universally acknow ledged that he did. He says, (lb. 801.) *' the most valuable *' thing in life is the acquisition of friendship."

I shall conclude this ai-ticle with some valuable sayings of Epicurus, quoted by Seneca. " If you *' live according to nature, you will never be poor, " JDUt if you live according to tlie opinion of oti ers, " you will never be rich (Ep. 10.) The man " who lives upon bread and water can never be *' poor ; and he vvho can conGne his desires to *' this, may vie with Jupiter for happiness (Ep. 25.) " First consider with ^vhom you eat and dii;ik ; " and then v.hatyou eat and drink (En. 19.) They *' live ill Vvho are alwavs bcQlnnini?- to live." (Ep. 23.)

Thus v*'e have seen that, at the conin\cnce:nent

S 2. .of

274 OF THE I'HILOSOPHY

cf Giir enquiry, all the more intelligent Greeks re- tained the belief of the existence of one Supreme Being-, the maker of tlie world, and of all things in it, though aided by a multiplicity of inferior ones in the p-oveniment of it : of the constant attf ntioii of this «;reat Beino* to all human afFcilrs, of his ic/e of viitue, and abhorrence of vice, and of such an adminittratlon of the Vv'orld, as tiiat the wicked will s-encrally meet with their due punishment, and the \irtuou3 with their proper reuard ; that the souls of all men are immortal, and will be more fully rev.-arded or punished, according to their de- jcrts, in a future state. But as we have adAanccd, v.e lir-ve found tli.se principles and motives of moral conduct <rrow p.iore obscure, till at last tliev en- tirely vanished ; other principles, utterly inconsist- ent \\irhthcm, being generally received ; as that of the derivation of all human souls from the sub- tance of the Supreme Being, and their final ab- sorption into the same source again, all individual consciousness being thereby lost. The last of these sects, viz. that of die Epicureans, who disco- ver m^ore good sense, and consistency in other re- spects, disclaimxcd all belief of wisdom and design in the coristrucdon of the universe, and of the pro- vidence of God in any of the affairs of men at this

time

OF THE STOICS. 275

time, too, the lust period af heathen philosophy, all the sects, without exccptioij, had. abiindoiied the belief of a fa til re state of any kind. And veL

with respect to mental ability, the fouudfi'S, oXtKese

...■».,. )i'i ^ i ("ij ,'■

sects may be dassed amoiiL^' the tirst of the hu- man race, sagacious, thoughtful, and laborious, in the extreme. What prospect ^vas there, tlien, of the world eyer becominp: more enruditer:cd by human wisdom, and the exoeriment Aras continued a suiHcient ien:^th of time, fi^cm Pvthaa;oras to Mai'cus Antoninus, a space of about seyen hun- dred years.

But what men could not do for themselyes, it pleased God to do for them ; and after giving much liglit to one particular nation, in tJie fulness of time he sent Jesus Christ, widi abundant evi- dence of a di\'ine mission to i^e the light of the whole world. His doctrine, in a reasonable time, throup'h the instrumentality of men, to an-.iearance tlie least quaJified for tlie undertaking, and in spi.e of all opposition from power, from prejudice, and from heatlien philosoplw, establised itself, to the utter oyerthrow of all proceeding religions, which hay ins: been maintained from time immemorial, iind thought to be connected with the well being of every state, had ever been held the most sa- cred.

276 OF THE PHILOSOTHY, ScC.

cred. At present no doubt is entertained by any christian of the being or providence of God in this state, or of a righteous retribution in another; so that nothing is wanting, no principle or motwe, whatever, to the virtue and happiness of man, but his receiving this divine hght, and living according to it.

THE END.

CONTENTS.

Dedication page i.

Preface v.

On the STATE of RELIGIOUS and MORAL

PRINCIPLES in GREECE before the

time of PYTHAGORAS.

Introduction Page 1

Section I. Of the obligation to the Worship

of the Gods ill general 5

II. Of the Super lority of Jupiter^ the

principal God of the Greeks 8

III. Of Promdence 10

IV. Of Jupiter'' s regard to Virtue 16

V. Of the Influence of the Fates 20

VI. Of Moral Duties, and also of

Death and the Consequences

of it 25

Of the PHILOSOPHY of PYTHAGORAS.

Introduction 28

Section I. Concerning God 31

II. Of the Structure of the World 34

III. Of the Human Soul 37

CONTENTS.

IV. Of Good and EmU Virtue and

Vice 43

SOCRATES and JESUS COxMPARED.

Introduction 47

Section I. Of the Polytheism and Idolatry

of Socrates 50

II. The Sentiments of Socrates con-

cerning the Gods and their Providence " B^

III. Of the Excellent Moral Charac-

ter of Socrates 58

IV. Of the Imperfection of Socrates'* s

idea co7icerning Piety and Fir. tue in general 63

V. Of Socrates'' s belief in a future

State 70

VI. Of the Dcemon of Socrates 78

VII. Of the Character and Teaching

of Socrates compared ijoith

those of jesns 86

WW.Of t/ie d'lffercnt Objects of the

Instructions of Socrates and of

Jesus 100

IX. Inferences to be drawn from the

* comparison of Socrates and

Jesus 105

CONTENTS.

On PLATONISM .

Introduction 121

Section I. Of God andofhis Promdence 123

IL Of the Polytheism of Plato 135

III. Of the Human Soul 143

IV. Of Virtues and Vices 147

V. Of Death ^ and the Consequences

of it 153

Of the PHILOSOPHY of ARISTOTLE.

Introduction IGl

Section I. Of the Beings the Attributes^

and the Providence ^ of God 165

II. Of the Human Soul 176

III. Of Happiness, aud of Virtue

^ and Vice 179

Of the STOICAL PHILOSOPHY of MAR- CUS ANTONINUS and EPIC- TETUS.

Introduction 186

Section I. Of God and Pro'uidence 188

II. Of the Human Said 197

III. Of Virtue and Vice £04

IV. Of the liarious Evils of Life 213

V. Of Death 225

CONTENTS.

Of the PHILOSOPHY of ARRIAN and SENECA.

Introduction 240

\ Section I. Of God and Pro'uidence 241

n. Of the Soul of Mail, and its

Po-ivers 246

HI. Of Moral precepts 252

Of the PHILOSOPHY of EPICUPvUS.

Introduciion 256

Section I. Of God and the Structure of the

Unherse 258

II. Of the Human Soul 265

III. Of Human Life and Happiness 269

DEDICATION.

To JOSHUA TOULMIN, D. D.

Dear Sir,

MY having had for many j^ears the happiness of your acquaintance and friendship, and particular- ly myha\ing lately turned my thoughts to the sub ject of one of your valuable dissertations^ have led me to take the liberty to address to you the follow- ing Essay ^ chiefly as a testimonial, and one of the last that I shall be able to give, of my esteem for your general principles and character.

Having here much leisure, and having been led to look back to some writings of the antients with which I was formerly much better acquainted than I am now, and among others the 3IemorabiUa of Xenophon, and Plato's account of Socrates^ it oc- curred to me to dra^v out an exhibition of his prin- ciples

s

DEDICATION.

cinlesand conduct from the words of those tuoori- ilinal writers ; and this suo;e;chtcd the idea of draw- inp- a comDarlson betv, een him and Jesus. Knowing that you had published an excellent dissertation on the srmie subject, I forbore to look into it till mine was transcribed for the press. By this means I was net biassed, as I naturally should have been, in favour ofyour opinion ; and I have seldom more than a very indistinct recollection of any \\ork that I ha-.-e not very recently read. On this second pe- rusal of your Dissertation I \\as as much pleased with it as I remember I was at the first, though I found that in some particukirs I differ from you. I hope that ncitlier of us, inattenti-s'C as most persons now are to subjects of this kind, will have wholly written in vain.

I take this opportunity of publicly thanking j'oil for your many excellent publications in defence of rational chrlstianit}-. Having given so many specimens of your ability and zeal in the cause, it is to you, and your excellent coadjutors, Mr. Belsham, Mr. Kentish, and a fe^v others, that the friends to the same cause will naturally look, whenever particular occasions, occurring on your ?ide of tlie water, will appear to call for a cham- pion. My labours in this or any other field of

exertion

DEDICATION.

exertion are nearly over ; but it gives me much satisfaction to reflect on what I have done in defence of what appeared to me important cliristian truth. As we have laboured, I hope we shall hereafter re- joice, together. But we must hold out to the end, without being weary of well doing, indulging no remission of labour while we are capable of any. Even a dying hand has sometimes done execution. According to the apostle Paul, the whole life of every christian is a warfare. Our enemies are liice and error, and with them we must make neither peace nor truce. Their advocates will not make either peace or truce with us.

I knov/ I sliall not offend you by acknowledg- ing, as I now do, that I had a particular view to you in my late tract in favour of infant baptism. AVIiatcver you may think of the performance itself, you will not, I am confident, think uncandidly of the intention vvith which it was written. While we really think for ourselves, it is impossible, in this state at least, but that we must often see things in different lights, and consequendy form (liffjrent opinions concerning them. But with the ingenuous minds which become christians this will only be an occasion of exercising that candour

which

DEDICATION.

which is one of the most prominent christian vir- tues, in which I am persuaded you will never be defective.

With a very high degree of esteem, I am, / Dear Sir,

yours sincerely.

J. PRIESTLEY. Northumberland Jan. 1803.

Though the Dedication to Dr. Toulmin of that article in the Vvork which relates to Socrates has no relation whatever to the subject of it, and is there- fore not inserted at the head of that article in this pul^lication, my father wishing to preserve it as a monument of their friendship, directed me to have

it printed at the end of the whole \\ork.

J. P.

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