Stoicism Lecture Note

Stoicism Despite having originated at the same time as Epicureanism, stoicism has a longer history and less consistent ideology. Its founder, Zeno, lived in the early third century B.C., and his teachings were very different from Marcus Aurelius's, who lived in the later part of the second century A.D. Zeno was a materialist whose beliefs were essentially a synthesis of Heraclitus and Cynicism; nonetheless, the Stoics eventually gave up materialism by incorporating Platonism until, at the end, very little of it remained. It is true that their ethical theory did not alter much and was considered by most to be of utmost significance. There is a shift in focus even in this regard, though. As time passes, the other facets of stoicism are discussed less and more in favor of focusing only on ethics and the theological passages that are most pertinent to it. We are hindered in our understanding of all the early Stoics by the fact that the majority of their writings are lost to fragmentation. Only three authors from the first and second century A.D.—Seneca, Epictetus, and Marcus Aurelius—have entire manuscripts remaining. Compared to all the other schools of philosophy we have studied thus far, stoicism is less Greek. Most of the later Stoics were Roman, and most of the early ones were Syrian. Tarn (Hellenistic Civilization, p. 287) believes that stoicism has Chaldean influences. As Ueberweg correctly points out, the Greeks abandoned what was personally beneficial in their attempt to Hellenize the pagan world. In contrast to the previous exclusively Greek philosophies, stoicism is emotionally constrained and bordering on fanaticism. However, it also incorporates religious components that the world needed and that the Greeks were unable to provide. It was especially popular with monarchs: according to Professor Gilbert Murray, "nearly all the successors of Alexander—we may say all the principal kings in existence in the generations following Zeno—professed themselves Stoics." Born in Citium, Cyprus, somewhere in the later part of the fourth century B.C., Zeno was a Phoenician. It is likely that his family was involved in trade, and his initial trip to Athens was motivated by economic concerns. But as soon as he was there, he was eager to learn philosophy. He was a bit of an eclectic, but he found the Cynics' points of view to be more agreeable than those of any other school. Plato's adherents charged him of copying from the Academy. Throughout the history of the Stoics, Socrates was considered their chief saint due to his demeanor during his trial, his refusal to flee, his composure in the face of death, and his belief that the one who commits injustice harms themselves more than the victim—all of which were in line with the teachings of the Stoics. So did his total independence from all physical comforts, his indifference to heat or cold, and his simplicity in issues of clothing and diet. However, the Stoics never adopted Plato's theory of ideas, and the majority of them disregarded his claims about immortality. The older Stoics agreed with Heraclitus that the soul is comprised of material fire, but only the later Stoics agreed with him that the soul is immaterial. This idea is also expressed verbally in Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, however it appears that they do not take fire to be one of the four components that make up physical objects. Zeno was impatient with philosophical nuance. What mattered to him was virtue, and the contributions of physics and philosophy to virtue were the only things he considered valuable. He tried using common reason, which in Greece meant materialism, to counter the mystical inclinations of the day. He was irritated by questions about the veracity of the senses and took the opposing ideology too far. "Zeno began by claiming that the actual world exists. By "real," what do you mean?'Questioned the Skeptic. By substantial and material, I mean. "This table is solid matter," the Sceptic questioned. "And God, and the Soul?" Zeno replied. "Perfectly solid, more solid, if anything, than the table." "And virtue or justice or the Rule of Three; also solid matter?" Zeno inquired.* It is clear that at this time, Zeno, like many others, was pushed into a metaphysic of his own by antimetaphysical zeal. "Of course," he said, "quite solid." The two primary tenets of the school, cosmic determinism and human freedom, have not changed over time. According to Zeno, there is no such thing as chance because natural rules firmly dictate how things will unfold. The elements were first limited to fire. Later, air, water, and earth, in that order, gradually appeared. But eventually, everything will turn to flames once more due to a cosmic conflagration. Most Stoics hold that this is merely the end of a cycle and that the process will repeat itself indefinitely rather than a final consummation similar to the end of the world in Christian theory. Everything that occurs has occurred previously and will occur several times more. Thus far, the concept may appear gloomy and no more consoling than standard materialism, like that of Democritus. However, this was only one facet of it. In Stoicism, as in eighteenth-century theology, the natural order was predetermined by a Lawgiver who was also a benign Providence. The entire thing was planned, down to the last detail, to achieve certain goals by natural means. These purposes can be found in human life, with the exception of those pertaining to gods and daemons. Everything has a function related to people. Bed bugs are helpful because they encourage us to get out of bed in the morning and avoid spending too much time in bed. Some critters are nice to eat, while others provide bravery challenges. The name of the Almighty is occasionally Zeus and other times God. Seneca set this Zeus apart from the more popularly believed Zeus, who was likewise real but subservient. Since God is the earth's soul and everyone of us has a portion of the Divine Fire inside us, He is not distinct from the world. Everything is a component of a single system known as Nature, and human existence is best when it coexists peacefully with Nature. Every life is in harmony with nature in the sense that it is what nature's rules have made it to be. However, human existence is only in harmony with nature when the individual will is focused on goals that fall within the purview of nature. A will that is in harmony with nature is the essence of virtue. In Cleanthes's analogy, the wicked are like a dog chained to a cart, forced to travel wherever it goes, even if they obey God's rule out of necessity. Virtue is the only thing that matters in a man's life; things like wealth, pleasure, or good health are unimportant. Since virtue is rooted in the will, a man's existence truly rests completely on himself, whether it be good or terrible. He could fall into poverty, but so what? He is still capable of virtue. He can continue to live in peace with Nature even if a dictator puts him in prison. Even if he gets the death penalty, he can pass away honorably, much like Socrates. The only thing that other men have authority over is externals; a person is the only one who is genuinely excellent when it comes to morality. For this reason, every man is perfectly free—as long as he frees himself from base cravings. Such wants come to pass only because of faulty judgments; the wise person whose judgments are accurate is in charge of all that matters to him since no external power can take away his virtue. There are clear logical problems with this concept. Since there are many sinners due to the rules of nature, a benign Providence must be the only source of virtue if virtue is the only good. Since cruelty and injustice provide the victim with the greatest opportunity to practice virtue, as the Stoics are constantly reminding us, there can be no justification for opposing them if virtue is the only good. If everything in the universe is predetermined, then my moral character will be determined by natural rules. If I am evil, I am forced to be bad by nature, and I cannot experience the freedom that virtue is meant to bestow. A contemporary mentality finds it hard to be passionate about leading a moral life if it will bring about no benefits. We respect a physician who puts his life in danger during a plague outbreak because we view disease as a sin and want to see it become less common. However, the medical man could as well remain pleasantly at home if disease is no harm. For the Stoic, virtue is not a means to a goal but an end in and of itself. And what's the final result when we look at things more broadly? a fire that destroys the current planet, followed by a repeat of the same process. Is there anything more hopelessly pointless? For a while, there could be development here and there, but ultimately, all that happens is repetition. When we witness something really unpleasant, we hope that eventually it won't happen again, but the Stoic promises us that it will happen again and again. One would assume that Providence, which sees everything, would eventually tire out from hopelessness. This is accompanied with a certain icy quality in the Stoic view of virtue. All desires are condemned, not only evil ones. The sage does not experience significant sorrow because he considers that the death of his wife or children does not compromise his moral character. Epicurus places a great value on friendship, but it shouldn't be extended to the point where your friend's bad luck might ruin your sacred serenity. Regarding public life, you might have a duty to participate because it provides opportunities for justice, fortitude, and other things; however, you shouldn't be motivated by a desire to help humanity because the advantages you can provide—like peace or a more plentiful supply of food—aren't really benefits, and anything that matters to you is your own morality. The stoic does good in order to be virtuous, not the other way around. He has never considered loving his neighbor as himself, and love—aside from a cursory sense—does not figure in his definition of morality. I do not mean to speak about love as a principle; rather, I am thinking of love as a feeling. The universal love that the Stoics advocated is a principle that is found in Seneca and his successors, and it is likely that they adopted it from earlier Stoics. The school's logic produced beliefs that were softened by the humanity of its followers—men far better than they would have been if they had followed through on their commitment to consistency. Kant, who is similar to them, believes that you should treat your brother well not because you love him but rather because it is required by moral law; I'm not sure, though, if he followed this rule in his personal life. Let's get past these broad strokes and examine the background of stoicism. Of Zeno, * very little is known. Tertullian states that Zeno believed that God flowed through the material world like honey through a honeycomb. Based on these definitions, it seems that he stated that God was a corporeal substance, the flaming mind of the world, and the entire cosmos comprised the substance of God. Zeno believed that God, Mind, Destiny, and Zeus were all one and that the General Law, or Right Reason, which permeates everything, was the same as Zeus, the Supreme Head of the administration of the cosmos, according to Diogenes Laertius. Other names for destiny include "Providence" and "Nature," which are powers that manipulate matter. According to Zeno, there is no need to erect temples to the gods because they shouldn't be associated with anything sacred or of high value. Nothing that is created by mechanics and builders can be extremely valuable or holy. He appears to have followed the later Stoics in believing in astrology and divination. Cicero claims to have given the stars a supernatural power. "All kinds of divination the Stoics leave valid," states Diogenes Laertius. They claim that if there is such a thing as Providence, then divination must exist. As Zeno claims, they demonstrate the validity of the practice of divination by citing several instances in which prophecies have materialized. Chrysippus is clear on this point. Although it is not evident in the pieces that remain of Zeno, it appears that he subscribed to the Stoic philosophy of virtue. Zeno's immediate successor, Cleanthes of Assos, is most known for two things. First, as we've previously seen, he believed that Aristarchus of Samos ought to face charges of impiety for having established the sun as the center of the world rather than the earth. The second item is his Hymn to Zeus, which may have been written in large part in the century following Newton by Pope or any other learned Christian. The brief prayer of Cleanthes is much more Christian: Lead me, O Zeus, and thou, O Destiny, Lead thou me on. Lead me on whatsoever work thou assignest me. I follow fearlessly, or I have to follow even if I lag behind because of suspicion. After Cleanthes, Chrysippus (280–207 B.C.) wrote a great deal of literature— it is estimated that he wrote 75 works. He rendered stoicism pretentious and methodical. He believed that the sun, moon, and other gods are born and die, but only Zeus, the Supreme Fire, is eternal. It is unclear how he reconciled determinism with the idea that God is not partially responsible for evil. He is reported to have thought about this. In other places, he approaches evil in a Heraclitian fashion, arguing that opposites imply one another and that it is illogical to have good without evil: "There can be no one more incompetent than those who believe that good could have existed in the absence of evil." Since good and evil are incompatible, they must always exist in opposition to one another. To bolster this theory, he turns to Plato rather than Heraclitus. According to Chrysippus, there is no difference between the happiness of the good man and God; the good man is always joyful and the evil man is miserable. Divergent views exist on the subject of whether the soul survives death. According to Cleanthes, all souls endure until the next cosmic fire, in which God absorbs everything; however, according to Chrysippus, this is only the case for the souls of the wise. Unlike the later Stoics, he did not pursue just ethical goals; in fact, he elevated reasoning to a fundamental level. The study of grammar and the development of "cases" in declension are also attributed to the Stoics, as is the hypothetical and disjunctive syllogism and the term "disjunction." * Chrysippus and other Stoics who were influenced by his writings developed a complex theory of knowledge that was mostly empirical and based on observation, while they also accepted some concepts and ideas that they believed to be formed by consensus gentium, or human agreement. However, Zeno and the Roman Stoics saw all theoretical research as secondary to ethics. According to Zeno, philosophy is like an orchard where logic is the walls, physics is the trees, and ethics is the fruit; or it is like an egg where logic is the shell, physics is the white, and ethics is the yolk. It appears that D Chrysippus gave theoretical research more independent weight. The fact that many persons among the Stoics achieved advancements in mathematics and other fields may be explained by his influence. Following Chrysippus, Panaetius and Posidonius were two influential figures who significantly altered stoicism. Panaetius gave up materialism and incorporated a significant amount of Platonism. He was a close friend of the younger Scipio and influenced Cicero, who was primarily responsible for introducing Stoicism to the Roman world. Cicero was further inspired by Posidonius, the professor he studied under at Rhodes. Panaetius, who passed away in 110 B.C., was Posidonius's teacher. Posidonius, a Greek Syrian who lived from around 135 to 51 B.C., was a small boy when the Seleucid empire fell. It might have been his encounter with chaos in Syria that led him to journey westward, initially to Athens where he internalized the Stoic philosophy, and then to other regions within the Roman Empire. * He became a prolific writer on scientific subjects; in fact, one of the reasons for his travels was a wish to study the tides, which could not be done in the Mediterranean. * "He saw with his own eyes the sunset in the Atlantic beyond the verge of the known world, and the African coast over against Spain, where the trees were full of apes, and the villages of barbaric people inland from Marseilles, where human heads hanging at the house-doors for trophies were an everyday sight." His work in astronomy was superb; as we saw in Chapter XXII, his estimate of the sun's distance was the most accurate in antiquity. Notable historian as well, he carried on Polybius' work. But he was most noted for being an eclectic philosopher, combining a lot of Plato's teachings with Stoicism in a way that the Academy, in its skeptical era, seemed to have forgotten. His teachings about the soul and life after death demonstrate this affinity to Plato. Like the majority of Stoics, Panaetius had stated that the soul dies together with the body. Posidonius, on the other hand, asserts that it survives in the atmosphere, where it typically stays unaltered until the next global catastrophe. There is no such thing as hell, but the evil are not as fortunate as the good after they die because of sin, which muddys the soul's fluids and keeps the wicked soul from soaring to the same heights as the virtuous soul. The genuinely righteous ascend to the star sphere and spend their time watching the stars revolve, while the extremely evil remain close to Earth and are reborn. He believes that the ability to assist other spirits explains the accuracy of astrology. Bevan hypothesizes that Posidonius may have set the path for Gnosticism by reviving Orphic ideas and incorporating Neo-Pythagorean ideas. He goes on to say, very honestly, that the Copernican theory—rather than Christianity— was what killed ideologies like his. Cleanthes was correct to see Aristarchus of Samos as a formidable foe. Compared to the early Stoics, the three associated with Rome— Minister Seneca, Slave Epictetus, and Emperor Marcus Aurelius—were much more significant historically (albeit not philosophically). Spaniard Seneca lived from about 3 B.C. to 65 A.D. His father was a well-educated Roman resident. Seneca took up politics and was enjoying some success until the Emperor Claudius exiled him to Corsica in AD 41 because he had offended the Empress Messalina. Agrippina, Claudius's second wife, brought Seneca back from his banishment in AD. 48, and designated him as her son's eleven-year-old tutor. Seneca was not as lucky as Aristotle to have Emperor Nero as a pupil. Seneca accumulated an enormous wealth, reportedly worth three hundred million sesterces, despite his stated Stoic distaste for wealth (approximately twelve million USD). He obtained much of this by making loans in Britain; Dio said that one of the reasons for the uprising in that nation was the exorbitant interest rates he demanded. If this is accurate, the brave Queen Boadicea led an uprising against capitalism, symbolized by the austere philosopher-apostle. Seneca gradually lost favor as Nero's excesses became more uncontrollable. Eventually, he was falsely or correctly accused of taking part in a large-scale plot to assassinate Nero and install a new emperor—some even said it was Seneca himself—on the throne. Given his prior contributions, he was kindly allowed to end his life. (65 AD). He met an instructive end. He initially started drafting a will after learning of the Emperor's choice. He went to his distraught family and said, "Never mind, I leave you what is of far more value than earthly riches, the example of a virtuous life," or something to that effect, after being informed that there was no time allotted for such a lengthy affair. Then, according to Tacitus, he opened his veins and called for his secretaries to record his final remarks. His eloquence was apparently still flowing at that point. At the same time, his nephew Lucan, the poet, passed away while delivering one of his own poems. Future generations would evaluate Seneca more on his noble principles than his questionable actions. He was identified as a Christian by a number of the Fathers, and figures like Saint Jerome acknowledged the veracity of a purported letter he sent to Saint Paul. Epictetus, who lived from around 60 to 100 AD, was a radically different kind of guy, although having many philosophical similarities. He was a Greek who served as Nero's minister after first being a slave under Epaphroditus. It was reported that he was become lame due to a harsh treatment he received during his time as a slave. Up to the year AD, he resided and taught in Rome. 90, the year that all philosophers were exiled by Emperor Domitian, who had little need for thinkers. Following this, Epictetus retreated to Nicopolis in Epirus, where he passed away after working as a writer and teacher for a few years. Marcus Aurelius, who lived from 121 to 180 AD, was a social outcast. He was the adoptive son of the virtuous Emperor Antoninus Pius, his father-inlaw and uncle, to whom he succeeded in the year AD. 161, and whom he held in high regard. He dedicated himself to stoic morality when he was Emperor. He needed all the strength he could muster because of the many disasters that plagued his rule, including lengthy, hard battles, military uprisings, plagues, and earthquakes. His self-addressed Meditations, which seem not to have been meant for public consumption, reveal that he was extremely tired and found his public responsibilities to be taxing. The sole child he had, Commodus, became one of the many evil emperors, but he was able to hide his ferocious tendencies as long as his father was alive. Though Faustina, the philosopher's wife, was unfairly accused of egregious immorality, he never had any suspicions about her and pursued her deification after her passing. Because the Christians disapproved of the state religion, which he saw as politically essential, he persecuted them. He was diligent in everything he did, even if most of them didn't work out. He is a pitiful figure; among a litany of inane wishes that must be rejected, the urge to retire to a peaceful rural life is the one that he finds most alluring. The chance never presented itself for this. A portion of his meditations are from while he was in the camp, during far-off campaigns, the trials of which led to his demise. It is amazing how in agreement Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius are on every philosophical issue. This implies that while societal context shapes the philosophy of an era, personal circumstances have less of an impact on an individual's philosophy than is frequently believed. Philosophers are often broad-minded guys who are able to see above the mishaps in their own life, yet even they are limited by the greater good or evil of their day. During difficult times, they create solace; during prosperous times, their pursuits are mostly cerebral. Gibbon, like other writers of the eighteenth century, views the Antonine period as a golden age, and his thorough history starts with Commodus's vices. One cannot completely agree with this ruling. "If a man were called upon to fix the period in the history of the world, during which the condition of the human race was most happy and prosperous, he would, without hesitation, name that which elapsed from the death of Domitian to the accession of Commodus." Slavery was a terrible institution that caused great sorrow and depleted the energy of the ancient world. Gladiatorial matches and battles with feral animals took place, which must have been unbearably terrible and dehumanized the crowds who watched. While it is true that Marcus Aurelius ordered gladiators to fight with blunted swords, this reform was short-lived, and he took no action about battles with wild animals. The Italian countryside was disappearing, and the people of Rome relied on the generous distribution of grain from the surrounding provinces. The economic situation was dire. Throughout the enormous expanse of the Empire, everyone was forced to surrender, with the exception of the odd dissident general. All initiative was centered on the Emperor and his ministers. Men sought the finest in the past, believing that the future would bring at most fatigue and at worst terror. An period marked by fatigue and hopelessness may be distinguished from one another by contrasting the tones of Marcus Aurelius, Bacon, Locke, and Condorcet. Great current problems can be tolerated in an optimistic age since it is believed that they would pass; yet, in a weary age, even genuine goods become tasteless. The gospel of the Stoic ethic, which focused more on endurance than hope, was well-suited to the eras of Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius. From the perspective of overall pleasure, the Antonine era was unquestionably superior to all subsequent eras up to the Renaissance. However, a thorough examination reveals that its prosperity was not as great as what one may assume from its architectural remnants. Almost entirely confined to the cities, GraecoRoman culture had left very little impact on the rural areas. There was a sizable slave class and a proletariat that endured extreme poverty even in the cities. A consideration of the social and economic circumstances in the cities is summarized by Rostovtseff in the following way: * "The image of their social conditions is not as attractive as the image of their external appearance." Our sources give the impression that a relatively small minority of the city's population created and maintained its splendor, that the welfare of even this small minority was based on relatively shaky foundations, and that the vast majority of city dwellers either had very moderate incomes or were extremely poor. To put it succinctly, we shouldn't overstate the opulence of the cities since their outward appearance deceives us. Epictetus reminds us that we are captives on earth, existing only as earthly bodies. Zeus could not set the body free, but he did bestow onto us a bit of his divinity. Marcus Aurelius reports that Zeus used to say, "Thou art a little soul bearing about a corpse." We are all brothers and God is the parent of mankind. You would feel comfortable if you were a kinsman of Caesar; how much more should you feel safe in being a kinsman of God? Instead of saying, "I am an Athenian," or "I am a Roman," we should say, "I am a citizen of the universe." We will see that no actual evil can ever come to us if we realize that virtue is the only true good. I have to pass away. But must I moan while I die? I have to go to prison. But do I have to complain too? I have to endure being banished. Is there anyone who could prevent me from leaving with a peaceful, brave, and smiling face? "Tell the secret." I decline to divulge since I am in control of this. "However, I'll bind you." What say you, friend? Link me up? Yes, you can shackle my leg, but my will is unbreakable; not even Zeus can overcome it. "I will put you in jail." You mean, my little body? "I'll decapitate you." Why? I was the only man in the world who could not be decapitated, but when did I ever tell you that? It is these ideas that students of philosophy ought to consider, these daily lessons that they ought to record, and these that they ought to practice. * Since all men are sons of God, slaves are on par with other men. As a decent citizen submits to the law, so too must we submit to God. "When you appear before the mighty of the earth, remember that Another looks from above on what is happening, and that you must please Him rather than this man." ‡ So who is a Stoic? The soldier pledges to respect no man above Caesar, but we to respect ourselves first. Show me a guy who has been shaped by the judgments he makes, much as we would label a statue created using Phidias' techniques Phidian. Show me someone who is ill and yet joyful, in danger and yet joyful, passing away and yet joyful, banished and yet joyful, and in shame and yet joyful. Present myself to him. I would give everything to see a Stoic, please. You can't even show me a completed Stoic; instead, show me one who is still in the molding process and has started down the right road. Please be so nice as to me and save an elderly guy like me the sight I have never seen before. What? Do you intend to present me with the ivory and gold sculpture of Athena or Zeus of Phidias? I want a soul; let one of you show me the soul of a man who wants to be at one with God, who wants to stop blaming God or man, who wants to fail at nothing, who wants to feel no misfortune, who wants to be free from envy, jealousy, and anger, who wants to exchange his manhood for godhead, and who wants to live his life with God in communion with him. Why wrap up my meaning so abruptly? Show him to me. No, you are unable to. Epictetus is always demonstrating, usually via quaint conversations, how we ought to respond to what are deemed disasters. He agrees with Christians that we need to love our adversaries. Like other Stoics, he generally despises pleasure, yet there is a type of enjoyment that is acceptable. Athens is a stunning city. Indeed, yet contentment is much more lovely— being free from emotion and disruption, feeling as though no one else has any say over your affairs” (p. 428). God has given each and every man a part in a play, and it is our responsibility to play it as worthy as possible. The works that document Epictetus's teachings are remarkably straightforward and sincere. His morality is high and unworldly; in a circumstance when a man's principal job is to fight oppressive authority, it would be impossible to find anything more beneficial (they are put down from notes by his disciple Arrian). It surpasses Aristotle, Plato, and other philosophers whose ideas are influenced by the City State in several areas, such as preaching the equality of slaves and acknowledging the brotherhood of man. When it came to Epictetus's ideal world, it surpassed Plato's as much as his real world did the Athens of the fifth century. However, Epictetus's actual world was far less perfect than Pericles' Athens because of the evil that pervaded what was around him. Marcus Aurelius begins his Meditations by expressing gratitude to the gods, his adoptive father, grandpa, and other tutors. He lists a number of odd responsibilities. Diognetus taught him not to believe in miracle workers; Rusticus taught him not to write poetry; Sextus taught him to practice gravity without pretense; Alexander the grammarian taught him not to correct others' poor grammar but to use the correct expression right away; Alexander the Platonist taught him not to excuse being late for a letter reply on the grounds of pressing business; and his adopted father taught him not to fall in love with boys. He goes on to say that he owes it to the gods that he was not raised with his grandfather's concubine for too long and did not demonstrate his virility too soon; that his children are not physically deformed or stupid; that his wife is submissive, loving, and straightforward; and that he did not waste time on history, syllogisms, or astronomy when he first started studying philosophy. The impersonal aspects of the Meditations are in close agreement with Epictetus. A Christian might say, "Since it is possible that thou mayest depart from life this very moment, regulate every act and thought accordingly," despite Marcus Aurelius' doubts about immortality. Good living is defined as coexisting with the universe, which is the same as adhering to God's will. "All things are in harmony with me, which is in harmony with you, Universe. Nothing is too late or too early for me; everything is right for you. To me, all that thy seasons bring is fruit; all things come from thee, all things dwell in thee, and all things return to thee. The poet addresses the city of Cecrops, asking, "Dear city of Zeus," but would you also say that?One observes that the pagan Emperor was partially displaced from Saint Augustine's City of God. Marcus Aurelius is certain that God assigns a unique daemon to each individual to serve as a guide; this idea recurs in the Christian guardian angel. The idea that the cosmos is a tightly-knit entity—one living thing with a single essence and soul—gives him comfort. One of his tenets is to "frequently consider the connection of all things in the universe." Another is to "whatever may happen to thee, it was prepared for thee from all eternity; and the implication of causes was from eternity spinning the thread of thy being." Along with these, despite his standing in the Roman State, he upheld the Stoic belief that all people belong to one human race: "My city and country, so far as I am Antoninus, is Rome, but so far as I am a man, it is the world." Lastly, all Stoics struggle to balance determinism with individual freedom. He remarks, reflecting on his role as monarch, "Men exist for the sake of one another." On the same page, he states, "The wickedness of one man does no harm to another," alluding to the idea that virtue and virtue alone are desirable. Although this conclusion seems to follow, he never said that a man's virtue does not benefit another and that he would only hurt himself if he were as evil an Emperor as Nero. He claims that "it is peculiar to man to love even those who do wrong." And this occurs if, upon witnessing them commit a wrong, you realize that they are your relatives, that their actions are the result of ignorance and inadvertence, that you will both soon pass away, and, most importantly, that the wrongdoer has not harmed you in the slightest because he has not impair your ability to rule.” And once more, "Love mankind." Adhere to God. The conflicts in Stoic ethics and religion are brought out quite clearly by these texts, which emphasize that "it is enough to remember that Law rules everything." On the one hand, everything that occurs in the cosmos is the product of earlier causes; it is a strictly deterministic singular whole. However, each person's will is entirely independent, and no external power may coerce a person into wrongdoing. There are two contradictions that are closely related to this one. Benevolence is an illusion since one man cannot bring good or damage to another because the will is autonomous and only the virtuous will is good. Regarding each of these paradoxes, something has to be mentioned. One of the conflicts that has persisted in philosophy from ancient times to the present is that between determinism and free will, which takes on many shapes depending on the context. Currently, we are concerned with the Stoic form. If we could subject a Stoic to a Socratic questioning, I believe he would essentially defend the following view: The world is made up of a single living Being with a soul, which is also known as God or Reason. This Being is free in its entirety. From the beginning, God determined that He would follow some universal principles, but He only selected those that would produce the best outcomes. As with human codes of law, sometimes, in specific instances, the consequences are not entirely acceptable, but this annoyance is worth tolerating for the benefit of legislative fixity. A person is composed of both lower clay and fire; to the extent that he is fire, at least when it is the highest grade, he is a portion of God. When a man's divine nature is used for good, his will is part of God's, and as God has free will, so does the human will under certain conditions. This is a valid response—until you look at the reasons behind our volitions, that is. Empirical evidence demonstrates that some conditions, including dyspepsia, negatively impact a man's moral character, and that taking certain medications under duress can weaken one's willpower. Consider the favorite case of Epictetus—the man wrongfully imprisoned by a tyrant—of which there have been more instances lately than at any previous time in human history. While some of these men have acted with heroic stoicism, others, for unknown reasons, have not. It is now obvious that morphia or cocaine may make a guy docile, and that enough torture will weaken the resistance of nearly any individual. Actually, the will is only independent of the tyrant inasmuch as the tyrant lacks scientific training. Although this is an extreme case, there are similar reasons supporting determinism in the inanimate world that also apply to human volitions generally. I only state that these reasons are equally strong in both situations and that there cannot be a valid rationale for adopting them in one area while rejecting them in another. I do not claim—or believe—that these arguments are definitive. When the Stoic is advocating for tolerance toward sinners, he would also argue that the virtuous will is the only one that appears free to him, and that the evil will is the product of earlier causes. But this is not consistent. Marcus Aurelius attributes his virtue to the positive impact of his parents, grandparents, and instructors; the good will is a consequence of earlier causes just as much as the evil will. The stoic may really claim that his philosophy inspires virtue in those who follow it, but it doesn't appear to work this way unless there is also a fair amount of intellectual mistake mixed in. It is likely to paralyze moral endeavor to realize that both sin and virtue are the inevitable outcome of prior causes, as the Stoics should have maintained. I now come to the second contradiction: the Stoic, although he taught kindness, believed that, in theory, no one could do damage or good to another since only the virtuous will is good and does not depend on external factors. Compared to the other, this contradiction is more obvious and specific to stoics, which includes certain Christian moralists. The Stoic philosopher, thinking of himself, holds that happiness and all other worldly socalled goods are worthless; he even says that to desire happiness is contrary to nature, meaning that it involves lack of resignation to God's will. This explains why they did not notice it, as many others did. They had two systems of ethics, one superfine for themselves and an inferior one for "the lesser breeds without the law." But Marcus Aurelius, as a pragmatic man running the Roman Empire, is fully aware that this kind of behavior is unacceptable. It is his responsibility to ensure that the grain-ships from Africa arrive at Rome on time, that the misery caused by the plague is alleviated, and that the enemy barbarians are prevented from crossing the boundary. That is to say, he accepts common, everyday criteria of what is good or terrible when interacting with those of his subjects that he does not consider to be real or future Stoic philosophers. He fulfills his administrative responsibilities by using these criteria. The peculiar thing is that even while this obligation is derived from an ethic that the Stoic sage believes to be essentially false, it nonetheless falls within the higher realm of what a sage should accomplish. The only possible response to this conundrum that comes to me is probably not very reasonable, even if it is logically indisputable. I believe Kant would provide it, as his ethical philosophy closely resembles that of the Stoics. Although it is true that the only thing that is excellent is good will, this is only true when the good will is used to achieve goals that are unimportant in and of themselves. Whether Mr. A is happy or sad is irrelevant; but, if I am virtuous, I will act in a way that I think would make him happy since it is what morality demands. Because Mr. A's virtue is solely dependent on him, I am unable to make him virtuous, but I can take steps to make him happy, wealthy, intelligent, or healthy. This is how the stoic ethic can be expressed: some things are mistakenly regarded as goods, but what is truly good is a will that is focused on obtaining these false goods for other people. This idea does not contain any logical contradiction, but if we honestly think that things that are widely regarded as goods have no value, then it becomes completely implausible, as the virtuous will might as well be directed toward entirely different goals. In actuality, there is a certain amount of bitterness in stoicism. We can't be happy, but we can be good; let's act as though being miserable doesn't matter as long as we're good. This philosophy is admirable and helpful in a difficult situation, but it is not entirely accurate or authentic in the deepest sense. The ethical preeminence of the Stoics notwithstanding, their teachings proved beneficial in two other domains. Theory of knowledge is one of these; natural law and natural rights doctrine is the other. Despite Plato, they acknowledged perception in theory of knowing; they claimed that the deceit of the senses was actually incorrect judgment that could be avoided with caution. After learning about this philosophy, King Ptolemy called Sphaerus, a Stoic philosopher and direct follower of Zeno, to dinner and presented him with a wax pomegranate. After the philosopher attempted to consume it, the monarch made fun of him. In response, he said that while he wasn't positive it was a real pomegranate, he didn't think anything inedible would be served at the royal table. * He cited a Stoic distinction in this response, making a distinction between things that are simply probable and those that may be known for definite based only on sense. This theory was reasonable and based on science overall. Though more dubious, one of their other theories of knowing had greater influence. This was their view of intrinsic concepts and values. Because Greek logic was entirely deductive, the issue of initial premisses arose. The initial assumptions needed to be, at minimum, broadly applicable, yet there was no way to demonstrate them. According to the Stoics, deduction can be based on some principles that are universally acknowledged and luminously evident. These ideas are similar to those found in Euclid's Elements. On the other hand, definitions might begin with innate concepts. Throughout the Middle Ages, this viewpoint was acknowledged, even by Descartes. With significant revisions, the theory of natural justice during the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries is a resuscitation of a Stoic doctrine. The distinction between jus naturale and jus gentium was made by the Stoics. First principles of the sort believed to underpin all universal knowledge were the source of natural law. The Stoics believed that all people are equal by nature. This was an ideal that could not be consistently realized in the Roman Empire, but it influenced legislation, particularly in improving the status of women and slaves. Marcus Aurelius advocates for "a polity in which there is the same law for all, a polity administered with regard to equal rights and equal freedom of speech, and a kingly government which respects most of all the freedom of the governed" in his Meditations. This, like most of the rest of the Stoic teachings, was superseded by Christianity. And when the time finally arrived in the seventeenth century to effectively oppose dictatorship, the Christianized versions of the Stoic principles of natural law and equality gained a practical power that no ruler could have granted them in antiquity.