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AUTHOR: 
 
 JACKSON, WILLIAM 
 TAYLOR 
 
 TITLE: 
 
 SENECA AND KANT 
 
 PLACE: 
 
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 DA TE : 
 
 1881 
 
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 Jackson, William Taylor, 1839- 
 
 Seiioca and Kant; or, An exposition of stoic and ra- 
 tionalistic ethics, with a comparison and criticism of the 
 two systems; by Rev. W. T. Jackson ... Dayton, 0., 
 United brethren publisliing house, 1881. 
 
 3 p. 1., iv)-vi p., 2 I., (llj-109 p. 20'^". 
 
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 Hist. 4'. Ethics. 
 
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SENECfl AND Mm 
 
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SENECR. 
 
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 AN EXPOSITION OF 
 
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 Stoic and Rationalistic Ethics 
 
 WITH 
 
 A Comparison aijd Criticism of tlje Two Syslenjs 
 
 RY 
 
 REV. W. T. JACKSON, Ph. D. 
 
 Late Professor of Modern Languages in Indiana University 
 
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 "Prove all things ; hold fast that which is good. 
 
 •» 
 
 DAYTON, OHIO 
 
 UNITED BRETHREN PUBLISHING HOUSE ^ 
 
 1881 
 
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 Copyright, iSSi, 
 BY W. T. JACKSON. 
 
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 TO 
 
 PROFESSORS COCKER, FRIEZE AND MORRIS 
 
 or MICHIGAN OnvnKSITY, 
 
 HONORED ALIKB FOR SOUND SCHOLARSHIP AND MORAL WORTH, 
 
 This Humble Fruit of Philosophical Study, 
 
 PURSUED UNDER THEIR DIRECTION, 
 
 IS INSCRIBED 
 
 WITH THE RESPECT AND GRATITUDE OF 
 
 J'he Jluihtxf-, 
 
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 PREFACE. 
 
 Philosophical studies, always important, have in late years 
 acquired special significance, when the theories of the past 
 and the institutions which embody them ; when law, relig- 
 ion, and government, as well as history, literature, and art, 
 are undergoing a searching criticism ; when of necessity 
 there is a constant recurrence to first principles, and all 
 things are brought, as far as possible, to the test of right 
 reason. 
 
 The following is a humble contribution to philosophical 
 literature in the department of ethics. It was originally 
 prepared as a thesis for the Doctor's degree in Michigan 
 University, and, at the suggestion of friends, has been en- 
 larged and made ready for the press. I have sought in the 
 •expository portions to state fairly, as well as clearly and 
 briefly, the doctrines of the authors discussed ; to put into 
 order and connection what I have found scattered here and 
 there ; to avoid technicalities, or explain them ; and to pre- 
 serve, as far as may be, in an English dress the expressions 
 used by the authors themselves. 
 
 It is precisely one hundred years since Kant's Critique of 
 the Pure Reason was first published, his Critique of the PraC' 
 iical Reason following seven years later, while Stoicism arose 
 as a distinct system more than two thousand years ago. Both 
 
 
 f 
 
VI 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 i 
 
 ! 
 
 systems have been widely influential, and they have had 
 time to exhibit their fruits. 
 
 It is believed that the subjects treated will be of interest 
 not only to those whose vocation, in the pulpit, at the bar, 
 or in the halls of instruction, constantly requires them ta 
 consider the grave problem of right, but also to that other 
 class of thinkers who, apart from their occupation, are 
 interested in all that has been thought by the world's great 
 intellects of the past. 
 
 The heathen philosopher, ignorant of Christianity, and the 
 rationalist, who ignores it, may yet teach us some of the sub- 
 limest moral doctrines that are in perfect accord with Chris- 
 tianity ; while their very failures serve only, by contrast, to- 
 disclose new beauty in its imperishable truths. 
 
 If this book shall serve in any degree to make available 
 the thoughts of two eminent leaders of thought, one in the 
 ancient and one in the modern world ; if, still more, it shall 
 conduce to right thinking on the all-important subject of 
 which it treats, and to right acting as well, its end will be 
 attained. 
 
 My obligations are gratefully acknowledged to Dr. W. T. 
 Harris, late of St. Louis, for the loan of a rare work, and to- 
 many esteemed friends for valuable suggestions. 
 
 Academy, Fostoria, Ohio, 
 
 September, 1881. 
 
 \ 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PACK. 
 
 Introductory — The Rise and Causes of Stoicism — Intel- 
 lectual Origin — Historical Origin — Socrates — Zeno — 
 Seneca ii 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 The Ethical Doctrines of Stoicism 25 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 The Ethical System of Kant 49 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 A Comparison and Criticism of the Two Systems 77 
 
 
J 
 
 • • • 
 
 

 
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 • * • I 
 
 SENECA AND KANT. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Introductory — The Rise and Causes of Stoicism — Intellectual 
 Origin — Historical Origin — Socrates — Zeno— Seneca. 
 
 The causes of Stoicism were both intellect- 
 ual and political. It is not difficult to trace 
 its parentage directly to Cynicism, and in- 
 directly to Socrates and Heraclitus ; while 
 many points of relationship with Aristotle 
 are also visible. Thus the doctrine of an 
 ethereal fire, which in regular cycles absorbs 
 and consumes all things, is clearly Heracli- 
 tean ; the doctrine of a world-soul, and the 
 assumed union of matter and spirit (or form) 
 are taken from Plato and Aristotle. But as 
 we are concerned more directly with the ethics 
 of the Stoics, we may add that their greatest 
 obligations in this department are to the Cyn« 
 ical school of Antisthenes and Diogenes. 
 
 That many-sided philosopher and moral 
 
7 
 
 • i i 
 i 
 
 t 
 
 < 1 1 
 
 1 1 
 
 i 
 
 12 
 
 
 hero, Socrates, had perished at Athens, 399 
 B. c. Justly does Dr. Smith call him, in view 
 of the powerful impulse which he gave to 
 philosophy, and especially as being the in- 
 tellectual parent of the great lights that fol- 
 lowed him, *'the greatest and most original of 
 the Grecian philosophers." * It was natural 
 that he should have many followers, and equal- 
 ly natural that each of them should compre- 
 hend but a part of their master's character 
 and doctrine. A Plato might drink deeply 
 into his whole spirit and teaching, but Euclid 
 could see little more in them than dialectics ; 
 Aristippus could understand only the eudie- 
 monistic side; while to cynical Antisthenes, 
 his master's excellence consisted chiefly in 
 his rude and slovenly dress, his disregard 
 of all conventionalities, his forbearance un- 
 <fer domestic and other tribulations, his 
 marvelous self-control and unflinching ad- 
 herence to his convictions. 
 
 These men, no doubt, assimilated such 
 parts of the admired Socrates as were con 
 genial to their own natures; and we may 
 
 •Student's Hist, of Greece, p. 418. 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 n 
 
 well imagine, therefore, the sternness of 
 Antisthenes, when he imbibed all that was 
 harsh and forbidding in the character of his 
 master. With him virtue alone must be 
 sought, enjoyment banished, and self-control 
 be the constant watch-word. There must be 
 no taste in dress or language, — the balder 
 and rougher the better, — with a contempt for 
 the religion and government of the times. 
 Such, in brief, was Cynicism; and we can 
 readily discern in it the very form and marty 
 of the lineaments of Stoicism. 
 
 But this was not all. Philosophy usually 
 reflects its times. A practical age calls forth 
 a practical philosophy ; an eminently rever- 
 ential age evokes a theological, often a 
 mystical philosophy; while a skeptical, irrev- 
 erent age as surely begets a skeptical or 
 rationalistic philosophy. When the intellect 
 is quickened, and the desire for knowledge 
 and refinement is awakened, freedom of 
 government, and especially national discus- 
 sions and uprisings in the interest of free- 
 dom, conspire to enkindle a freedom and 
 vigor of thought that seem to border al- 
 
14 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 most on the miraculous. Such were the 
 Elizabethan age of English, and the Per- 
 iclean age of Greek literature. 
 
 Philosophy shares this impulse. In the 
 palmy days of Greek freedom, when united 
 she feared no foe, when she was mistress 
 of both power and culture, thought sympa- 
 thized with the general elevation, and soar- 
 ed to moral and intellectual heights before 
 unattained. Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle, 
 each in a different way, showed what the' 
 human mind can do when, kindled to a 
 noble activity, it has proper encouragement 
 from society and protection from government. 
 But when tyranny is crushing the life out 
 of its subjects ; when a base servility shapes 
 every thought, sentiment, and custom of the 
 age, the spirit of man droops; and as all 
 inspiration languishes, philosophy languishes 
 also, or perishes altogether. Such was the 
 condition of Rome under such monsters as 
 Tiberius, Caligula, and Nero, in the days 
 of the later Stoicism. 
 
 It is scarcely better when society is in a 
 state of constant revolution and chaos ; when 
 
 Seneca a7id Kant. 
 
 IS 
 
 government, religion — all institutions, are giv- 
 ing way, and men know not which way to 
 look for hope. Such was the unhappy con- 
 dition of Greece when Stoicism first sprung 
 up and flourished on her soil. Yet as the 
 sweetest poetry has often sprung from the 
 sorrow of the soul, so some of the richest 
 gems of truth have been called forth by the 
 afflictions of life. 
 
 In the year 338 B. c, or eighteen years be- 
 fore Zeno came to Athens, Philip had giv- 
 en the death-blow to Grecian independence 
 on the disastrous field of Chseronea. The 
 spirit of jealousy and dissension between 
 states was rife, and Philip knew how to feed 
 it and turn it to his own account. Thus 
 jealousy and intestine strife were constantly 
 weakening and devouring, until they gave 
 way to a common lamentation over a com- 
 mon ruin. Alexander might appeal to their 
 patriotism ; might lead them forth to conquer 
 a world ; might carry his victorious arms from 
 the Ister to the Indus, and from the Lybian 
 to the Bactrian desert; might spread the 
 Greek language and literature everywhere; 
 
 V 
 
 '(i 
 
i6 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 but little it mattered to the Greeks, while 
 with the language was published the fact 
 that they were a conquered nation. 
 
 Nor were they destined to be completely 
 absorbed in the new empire, and by forget- 
 ting the past to transfer their affections to 
 the new dynasty. Rome soon appears on 
 the scene, and the role of Philip is played 
 again. The overthrow is complete, when 
 Greece sinks to the condition of a Roman 
 province. 
 
 While these great changes were taking 
 place outwardly, what was the condition of 
 the internal life of the nation ? We may be 
 sure that great changes were occurring there 
 also. During and after the Persian wars, Per- 
 sian gold was silently but surely corrupting the 
 fountains of their strength and purity. With 
 the decline of national prosperity and the 
 spread of corruption, the religious faith was 
 giving way; and what was now to take its 
 place ? From the temples of gods and god- 
 desses, men turned to the schools and groves 
 of the philosophers. 
 
 Socrates had taught some of the noblest. 
 
 Seneca and Kaiit, 
 
 17 
 
 moral precepts, and immortalized them by 
 his death. Plato had passed a tranquil life, 
 dedicated more to intellectual than to moral 
 aims. Aristotle had reared a solid and mag- 
 nificent intellectual structure, but had been 
 compelled, on a false charge, to flee from 
 the city for his life. And now, as interest in 
 the nation declines, interest in the individu- 
 al increases. No longer is the old theory 
 prevalent, that the individual lives for the 
 state, but rather he lives within himself. Mil- 
 itary and political life, once so glorious, have 
 now dropped into mercenary insignificance, 
 and have no longer any charms for a noble 
 mind. The inner life, the life of the soul, is 
 the only safe intrenchment against the ca- 
 lamities that beset the world without. 
 
 As Poetter well says: *' While thus sat- 
 isfaction in the objective world vanishes, the 
 mind withdraws itself into its own subject- 
 ivity. It concerns itself no longer about the 
 knowledge of the world, but rather about 
 freedom from the world."* Zeller remarks 
 that **the bloom of Greek philosophy was 
 
 •Geschichte der Philoiophic, Theil I., p. xoob 
 
i8 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 short-lived."* Yet let us look among the 
 vines for the later vintage ; perhaps we shall 
 find a few clusters that have withstood the 
 frosts and storms, nay, that have even been 
 ripened by their influence. 
 
 We have seen that it was not altogether 
 a new thing in Greek philosophy that at- 
 tention should be directed chiefly to man. 
 Socrates had done this. He had emphasized 
 the nobility and superiority of a life of virtue 
 over a life of mere sense. The Sophists, 
 though with far less noble aims, had done 
 the same. They had taught a shrewd, 
 money-making, not a noble, elevating phil- 
 osophy, in which **man was the center and 
 measure of all things." The Cynics, as we 
 have seen, though with an entirely opposite 
 purpose, did substantially the same. 
 
 Now there arise three schools, side by side, 
 whose leaders are priests serving a common 
 deity of self, only at different altars. Epi- 
 curus sounds the note of pleasure and self- 
 satisfaction, preferring indeed that it be vir- 
 tuous, but not disallowing it when vicious. 
 
 •Stoics, Epicureans and Sceptics, p. zo. 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 19 
 
 Pyrrho, of the skeptical school, will rather 
 have men refrain from all dogmatizing of 
 any sort, and finds peace of mind, he thinks, 
 in the cautious attitude of thorough non- 
 committalism. His attitude in the world is 
 that of a visitor. " Hands off"!" is his watch- 
 word. ** Nothing ventured, nothing lost." 
 Not so Zeno and Chrysippus. To the heavy 
 brunt of calamity and woe, they bring the 
 active resistance of a mind, fortified by the 
 determination to cling to virtue, at what- 
 ever cost. Thus the course of philosophy 
 had long been directed to man, and the 
 course of events now tended to keep it 
 
 there. 
 
 The founder of Stoicism* was Zeno of Cit- 
 tium in Cyprus, who by the accident of a 
 shipwreck was brought to Athens about 320 
 B. c. Having studied the Cynic, Megaric, 
 and Academic philosophies, he founded, 310 
 B. c, a school of his own, called Stoic, from 
 the 2'roi TzotxiXriy where it assembled. Him- 
 self and his school were held in high re- 
 spect by the Athenians, who honored him 
 
 ♦Zeller, also Ueberweg, Hist, of Phil. Vol. I., sub Toce. 
 
20 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 21 
 
 after his death with a tomb and brazen mon- 
 ument at the public expense. His writings, 
 though numerous, have all been lost. He 
 was succeeded by Cleanthes, of Assos, whose 
 celebrated hymn to the Deity is still extant. 
 
 But by far the most noteworthy personage 
 in the early Stoic philosophy was Chrysip- 
 pus,* of Soli in Cilicia. He so developed 
 and elaborated the system that he has de- 
 servedly been called the second founder of 
 Stoicism. He was a most voluminous writ- 
 er, his works numbering seven hundred and 
 five. Other representatives of Greek Sto- 
 icism were Persseus, Aristo of Chios, Heril- 
 lus of Carthage, Diogenes of Seleucia, and 
 Antipater of Tarsus. These names are 
 found in the flourishing period of Greek 
 Stoicism, or in the century and a half suc- 
 ceeding its establishment. 
 
 About the middle of the second century 
 B. c, Pansetius of Rhodes introduced Stoi- 
 cism into Rome, where it gained many dis- 
 tinguished and learned disciples ; among them^ 
 though with some modifications, Cicero, Lse- 
 
 ♦Zeller, p. 40; also, Ucberweg, Vol. I., p. 1858". 
 
 I 
 
 lius. Scipio, Seneca, and the Emperor Marcus 
 Aurelius. Other Stoics of this period were 
 Posidonius of Apamea, Athenodorus of Tar- 
 sus, Diodotus, the teacher of Cicero, Cornu- 
 tus, Musonius. and especially Epictetus. In 
 these writers, though we often find all the 
 harshness and rigor of the early Stoic doc 
 trine, yet on the whole, in theory and practice 
 a decided leaning toward Eclecticism pre- 
 vails. 
 
 L. Annseus Seneca, upon whose presenta- 
 tion of Stoicism we shall chiefly rely, was 
 born at Cordova, Spain, about the year 5. 
 A. D. The family removed to Rome, where 
 he was favored with wealth and the highest 
 social and educational advantages. He was 
 soon an advocate of prominence, then quaes- 
 tor. But the jealousy of Caligula and Clau- 
 dius resulted in his exile to Corsica. There 
 for eight years he gave himself closely to the 
 study of philosophy. 
 
 On the accession of Nero he is recalled, 
 made prtetor, and becomes tutor of the em- 
 peror, whose ungovernable lust and cruelty, 
 however, he is totally powerless to restrain. 
 
 ( < 
 
22 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 Now he rides on the full tide of wealth, hon- 
 or, and royal favor, preserving, however, amid 
 all this splendor, a Stoic abstemiousness in 
 his habits. Soon the nobles are jealous and 
 intrigue against him. He sees with alarm that 
 the capricious Nero is alienated from him, and 
 fearing a worse fate, offers to surrender to 
 him all his vast wealth. This proposal, with 
 his retirement from the city, hardly appeases 
 the despot's anger. On the outbreak of the 
 conspiracy of Piso, he is charged with being 
 a participant. Nero resolves on his death. 
 Seneca does not await the issue, but like a 
 true Stoic, hears the tidings with calmness, as 
 the voice of fate, and takes his life by a lin- 
 gering death. His philosophical works had 
 been composed partly during his exile in Cor- 
 sica, partly in brief intervals snatched from 
 political cares, and partly in retirement after 
 his loss of royal favor. 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 CHAPTER 11 
 
 u> 
 
 P 
 
I' 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 The Ethical Doctrines of Stoicism.* 
 
 What, now, is philosophy with the Stoics ? 
 It is wholly a practical matter, the knowledge 
 and practice of the means to be used to se- 
 cure inward tranquillity and happiness. It is, 
 hence, essentially ethical, and the study of 
 logic and physics is entirely subordinated to 
 this end. To use one of their comparisons, 
 logic is the shell, physics the white, and eth- 
 ics the yolk ; or, again, logic is the skeleton, 
 physics the flesh, and ethics the soul.f 
 
 Their theory of physics has a close and 
 important bearing on their ethical doctrine. 
 They assume in nature two ultimate principles, 
 — matter and force. Matter is passive, and 
 capable of receiving all motion ; the working, 
 noving force is God, and these are insepara- 
 
 •The followiivg account of Stoicism has been drawn chiefly from Seneca's 
 Z)f ProvidenttA, De Tranquillitate Antmi, De Brevitate Vitee^ De Vita 
 Beata and EptjiflcK, the author seeking, in this and the following chapter, 
 merely to act a; a faithful interpreter, suffering Seneca and Kant, ^ much 
 M.% possible, to speak for themselves, and reserving for a future chapter a 
 <iiscu«sion of their doctrines 
 
 f Posidonius in Ueberweg, Vol. I., Art. Stoicism. 
 
I 
 
 26 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 bly united. They reason thus : The universe 
 is limited and spherical, and though possess- 
 ing great variety of parts, is substantially a 
 unity. This unity, as a whole, must be more 
 perfect than any of its parts, some of which 
 we see to be self-conscious. Hence, the 
 universe is pervaded by an ethereal fire, 
 which is its soul and reason; that is, God. 
 By an absolute necessity, or inner law of the 
 divine reason, all things are, in definite pe- 
 riods, absorbed into the Deity, to be evolved 
 anew at the appointed time. The soul of 
 man is an emanation from the Deity, and as 
 such may outlive the body, but can not endure 
 beyond the cycle to which it belongs. In this 
 doctrine of physics we can readily recognize, 
 though with a new application, Plato*s idea of 
 a world-soul, and Aristotle's union of matter 
 and form, before alluded to ; while the bear- 
 ing of the doctrine toward fatalism, panthe- 
 ism, and materialism will be distinctly noticed. 
 
 Almost all the ethical doctrines of the Sto- 
 ics may be comprised in the two propositions : 
 
 I. That virtue consists in conformity to 
 nature. 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 27 
 
 II. That virtue is sufficient for happiness. 
 
 But it is very important to understand pre- 
 cisely what the Stoics mean by the terms 
 ** happiness," *• virtue," and '^ conformity to 
 nature," or we can gain no intelligible idea 
 of their system. 
 
 I . Vi rtue consists in conf ormity tn vnfu^i> 
 
 According to Zeno, the ethical end of man 
 is ''to live in harmony with one's self;" ac- 
 cording to Cleanthes, it is ** to live conforma- 
 bly to nature,"— that is, to the course of the 
 universe; while Chrysippus combines both 
 man and nature. ''Live," says he, "accord- 
 ing to your experiefice of the course of nat- 
 ure." Among the later Stoics there is the 
 same difference. Diogenes Babylonius would 
 have •* prudence and reason " used in select- 
 ing ** things according to nature." Antipater 
 of Tarsus would make it *• the unvarying 
 choice of things conformable, and rejection of 
 things nonconformable, to nature." So, sub- 
 stantially, Pansetius and Posidonius. Seneca, 
 with his usual terseness, says it is sufficient to 
 say simply, *« L iving conformab lv :" that is, 
 consistently; since it is_on]iLJ:£asxiaJthat will 
 
28 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 always choose the same things and reject the 
 
 It will be seen that there is some diversity 
 of views expressed as to what this nature is, 
 to which conformity is required,— whether it is 
 the rational nature of man, or the system ot 
 laws established by the Deity. Both views 
 are held, without much attempt to reconcile 
 them; but the emphasis is laid chiefly on the 
 latter, as the sequel will show. 
 
 We are thus brought face to face with the 
 assumption, already hinted at in the physics, 
 that there is a course of the universe, a 
 mighty machinery of fate, whose wheels roll 
 on perpetually, and powerless our help or 
 hinderance. Our duty is but to submit.^ 
 *^Fate leads us on," says Seneca, "and what ^ 
 of time remains for each of us, the first hour 
 of our birth allotted. ♦ * * A long time 
 ago it was appointed what you should rejoice 
 over, what you should weep over. Cause de- 
 pends upon cause, and * * * nothing 
 happens, but it comes y\ 
 
 •Ueberweg's Hist. Phil., Vol. I., pp. 198-200. 
 
 tSenecas Moral Es.ays. Hurst & Whiting's Ed., De Providentia. Cap. V 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 29 
 
 But this course of nature is not a mere 
 blind and irrational mechanism that works, it 
 knows not why ; it is the expression of the 
 Supreme Reason of the universe, the voice of 
 the Deity himself. It is the all-controlling law 
 from which even God is not exempt. Says 
 Seneca, **The Founder and Controller of all 
 things wrote the fates, indeed, but he obeys 
 them himself; he commanded once, he obeys 
 always r* by which I understand that the 
 course of nature which he established is a 
 rational one, and he obeys it therefore volun- 
 tarily. This explains why the terms **fate" 
 and ** providence," "reason" and "nature," , 
 are used interchangeably. 
 
 The first great duty of a wise man, there* 
 fore, is uncon ditional submission to the co urse 
 of nature. As he is, in part at least, a 
 rational being, he must voluntarily ^pknow l- 
 edge and obey the rational p rH^^r of \\\f^ uni- 
 verse. " What is the duty of a wise man?" 
 asks Seneca. " To surrender himself to fate. 
 It is a great comfort to be borne along with 
 the universe. We are all chained to fortune, 
 
 \ 
 
 •Ibid.,Cap. VI. 
 
30 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 31 
 
 but what does it matter ? The same custody 
 surrounds all, and they are themselves bound 
 who have bound us."* Nor will he do this 
 grudgingly. On the contrary, so ready will 
 he be to accede to the demands of so elevat- 
 ed a law, that he would even anticipate its 
 requirements if he knew them, and obey 
 them in advance, /v 
 
 If obedience requires suffering, it matters 
 not. ** Whatever must be endured in accord- 
 ance with the constitution of the universe,** 
 says Seneca, **will be [cheerfully accepted 
 and] turned to account (usurpetur) by a great 
 mind. By this oath we have been bound, to 
 bear those earthly ills which it is out of our 
 power to avoid, and not to be disturbed by 
 them. We have been born in a government: 
 toobevGod is liberty Good men are not 
 h7^[^^p£T^ Fortun e^ thevfbllow and^k eep 
 up with her ; if they had known, they would 
 have^nticipated her.**t Demetrius com- 
 plains of the Deity for not making known his 
 will. He says he would rather offer than sur- 
 render. His children, his health, his life 
 
 •De Tranq. An., X., 3, 3. 
 
 fDe Viu Beata, XV., 6. 
 
 might be taken — his consent should not be 
 withheld; ** for,** says he, '^ know that all 
 things occur according to a fixed law, decreed 
 for all time.*' 
 
 The watch-word of the true Stoic is well 
 expressed in the following lines from the 
 hymn of Cleanthes, translated thus by Cicero : 
 
 **Duc, O parens, celsique dominator poll, 
 Quocumque placuit : nulla parendi mora est, 
 **•♦*♦ 
 
 Ducunt volentem /atn^ in^..^.... f.,i^tfrtf ' ' 
 
 Which may be retranslated freely as fol- 
 Jows : 
 
 I Lead me, O Parent, ruler of high heaven, 
 
 Where'er thou'rt pleased ; I'll not be tardy to obey. 
 
 y The fates e'er /^ad the willing man ; unwilling ones they dra^. I 
 
 I Thus, as Zeller has said, virtue, with the! 
 Stoic, begins with acknowledging the rational 1 
 order of the universe, and ends with unhesi-J 
 
 \tating obedience to it. 
 
 II. In this submission to the course of nature, » \ 
 or virtue, and it alone, is found true happi-\ ^ 
 ness. " To live happily," says Seneca, "js 
 the same thing as to live according to nat- 
 
 
 >^ 
 
 O 
 
 i^ 
 
 li 
 
22 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 ure."* This is not to be confounded with 
 ;i^e pleasure : these are with the Stoic very 
 different things. Happiness is that calm en- 
 joyment of the soul which is connected only 
 with virtue. It is the harmony of the soul, 
 in which it is conscious of no dissension nor 
 hesitation, but of perfect compliance with its 
 own reason, and, therefore, the reason of the 
 universe. Hence Seneca says, "You may 
 therefore boldly avow that the highest good 
 [virtue] is the harmony of the soul."t Pleas- 
 ure, on the contrary, springs from our pas- 
 sions, our desires, and our hopes. These 
 fluctuate; nor does it always attend even 
 these. Happiness, however, always attends 
 virtue; they are indissolubly united. Pleas- 
 ure depends on externals, which are beyond 
 our control ; happiness has an unfailing fount- 
 ain within the soul. Pleasure leads to evil; 
 virtue takes us from evil. Pleasure is found 
 among the basest ; happiness only among the 
 good. Pleasure, therefore, is to the wise 
 man something entirely indifferent and ad- 
 ventitious, while virtue is an end in itself. 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 33 
 
 •De Vita Beata, VIII.. X. 
 
 tibid., VIII., 5. 
 
 But if virtue is sought for happiness, it is 
 no longer virtue. However pure a thing 
 happiness may be, it never c^in usurp the 
 place of virtue, and become the highest good. 
 Virtue alone i s the sum n^mJiOiium, the all, 
 the end of life. Yet men are perpetually 
 confounding the highest good with pleasure 
 and happiness, and asking, **What do we 
 seek to gain by virtue?" as if there could 
 be anything more than the whole, or any- 
 thing beyond the end. ** You mistake,'* says 
 Seneca, **when you ask. What is that for the 
 sake of which I seek virtue ? for you ask for 
 something higher than the highest. Do you 
 ask what I seek from Virtue ? Herself! for 
 she has nothing better; she is her own re- 
 ward."* 
 
 **Just as in a field which has been plowed 
 for a crop, some flowers spring up; yet not 
 for these flowers, however much they delight 
 the eye, was so much labor expended. The 
 planter had another purpose ; this was inci- 
 dental. So also happiness is neither the re- 
 ward nor the cause of virtue, but a mere 
 
 ♦De Vita Beata., IX., i, a. 
 
 I 
 
 i ^ 
 
 
 !fl 
 
34 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 incident of it/'* Happiness is called, there- 
 fore, only the companion, the accompaniment, 
 the shadow (^comes^ accessio^ umbra) of vir- 
 tue. Hence the paradox : Not to need hap- 
 piness is happiness. 
 
 After this general view of their doctrine, 
 let us examine more closely their theory of 
 perfect conformity to nature, and of happiness 
 as resulting from this conformity. In doing 
 so, two problems at once present themselves, 
 namely : 
 
 1. To show that everything (even, for ex- 
 ample, the inequalities of our lot, the oppo- 
 sition and tyranny of the wicked) does occur 
 according tc a rational course of nature. 
 
 2. To explain the possibility of that per- 
 fect conformity to this course of nature, which 
 the theory presupposes. Let us see how the 
 Stoics dispose of these difficulties. 
 
 I. We must first inquire what end the 
 lifiity proposes in the government of the 
 universe. As he is the S qpreme^ ^ason, he 
 can not be under the control of passion, and 
 hence can not be malevolent. He manifestly 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 35 
 
 # 
 
 1^ 
 
 '% 
 
 •Ibid. 
 
 proposes that man shall be governed by t he 
 same law of reason to which he h as volun- 
 tarily su^j e^cted himself^^ and conjb rmit y to 
 which constitutes virtue. Nothing in the 
 world, therefore, is important but virtue and 
 vice ; nothing else need be earnestly sought 
 or shunned. All the objects that men or- 
 dinarily seek or fear are entirely indifferent 
 (ddcdifopa). External goods are but bag- 
 gage ; they are delusive and vain. True 
 blessings, on the contrary, are internal and 
 enduring. The only things we need to feaP 
 are ** crimes, base thoughts, evil intentions,, 
 lust, avarice;"* the only good we need t( 
 seek is virtue. The sage may be imprison 
 ed, slandered, deprived of every external 
 blessing and even life, but while he posses- 
 ses this treasure he is tranquil and happy. 
 
 But does everything, even calamity and 
 reproach, take place according to a rational 
 plan? "Yes," answers the Stoic. The course 
 of the world has been arranged, not to secure 
 pleasure, but virtue, and therefore enduring 
 happiness. It is unreasonable, argues Sen 
 
 ^De Prov., VI., I. 
 
 it \ 
 
 A 
 
36 
 
 Seneca and Ka7ii, 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 37 
 
 eca, that the Good should injure the good* 
 They have the common bond of virtue to 
 unite them ; and good men are imitators and 
 emulators of the Supreme Good. But virtue' 
 requires discipline ; and hence good men are 
 inured to toil and hardships, while the wick- 
 ed are allowed to be voluptuous and sensual. 
 Like athletes, the good must be subjected 
 to severe discipline ; they must wrestle and 
 struggle with capricious Fortune, and endure 
 all her buffetings manfully. How could the 
 excellence of virtue be seen without trial ? 
 Where would be patience, if there were no 
 bereavements and losses ? So lofty is Virtue, 
 we need not expect to reach her by a level 
 path : we must look for precipitous heights 
 and toilsome climbing. Hence another par- 
 adox : ** The ills of life are not ills, except 
 to those who bear them ill."* 
 
 But while the Deity's discipline is stern> 
 It is also loving. He well knows that un- 
 troubled pleasure, like the fattening of ani- 
 mals for the stall, produces helplessness. He 
 admires the bold struggling and moral forti- 
 
 *Ibid.f passim. 
 
 tude of a brave man ; and as the most gifted 
 pupils receive the hardest tasks, and the 
 bravest soldiers are chosen for the most per- 
 ilous assaults, so it is a mark of his favor to 
 be chosen as an adversary of Fortune. Pros- 
 perity is given only to the mass, and to those 
 of low talents. So again we have the para-/ / 
 dox : ** Never to have been miserable is toi/i 
 be miserable." 
 
 How, now, will one of noble mind receive 
 this discipline of Providence? He will re- 
 gard all adversities as disciplines, and, amid 
 all the assaults of Fortune, he will stand as 
 unchangeable as the saltness of the sea. 
 While not without sensibility, he will remain 
 placid, never yielding to circumstances, but 
 making everything conduce to the attainment 
 of virtue. Thus, by putting a favorable con-- 
 struction on everything, the ills of life will 
 lose their bitterness ; he will become indiffer- 
 ent to Fortune, and even dare her to do her 
 worst. Like the gladiator who sighed that 
 the flower of his youth was passing, and that 
 exhibitions were so rare, he will long for an 
 occasion to call forth his heroism, lest his 
 
 %\ 
 
38 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 virtue fade by disuse. Far from self-seeking^ 
 and love of pleasure, his will be the spirit 
 of a Mucius Scaevola, calmly holding his 
 hand in the flames, from patriotism, or of a 
 Regulus, suffering torture but not disgrace. 
 Never will he suffer from luxury; leave that 
 for a Maecenas or a Nero. His sufferings, 
 if such they can be called, will be of another 
 sort.* 
 
 He now knows, too, and can trust himself. 
 Not like one who has obtained the empty 
 glory of a crown at Olympia without a com- 
 petitor, he has won his by the sweat and 
 dust of a hotly-contested race. He stands 
 also as a living example, to show that the 
 opinions of the multitude concerning bless- 
 ings and trials are false. " He spends and 
 is spent willingly." f He regards his life 
 and whatever he possesses as not his own, 
 but as lent to him. Whenever he shall be 
 bidden to return it, he will not complain to 
 Fortune, but will say, " I give you thanks 
 for that which I have possessed and enjoyed. 
 I have tilled your property at great cost, it 
 
 •Dc Prov., n., X ff. 
 
 tlbid., v., 3. 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 39 
 
 is true, but because you command, I give 
 it up. I surrender it cheerfully and willingly; 
 ♦ ♦ * take back a soul better than you 
 gave it; I do not evade you nor flee from 
 
 you. 
 
 2. We are now ready to inquire as to 
 the possibility of such a perfect conformity 
 to the co urse of j iature.asjt he theory r equires. 
 Admittino- that no real evil can befall the 
 Stoic's good man; that he possesses the 
 divine alchemy of transmuting every loss 
 and cross into a blessing, can all obtain 
 this magic power? Can the sage at all 
 times retain it? This is the crucial test of 
 
 Stoicism. 
 
 They confess that, li ke the or igi nal dual - | 
 ism of matter and_reason .in the universe, ^ 
 there is a dualism of passion j,nd_j;eason_in 
 man, with this difference, that passion, alas ! 
 is~ever active. But they maintain that emo- 
 tion always springs from false imagination, 
 and never exists with a rational view of 
 things. Thus from a false and irrational 
 conception of present and futu re good spring 
 
 ♦De Tranq. An., XL, i, a, 3. 
 
40 
 
 Seneca and Kani, 
 
 pleasure and desire, and from imaginary 
 present and future ill, care and fear.* In 
 reality there is no ground for them. They 
 are diseases of the soul, and a sure evidence 
 of lack of self-control. The sage, there- 
 fore, must be absolutely free from passion. 
 If any exception be made, he may smile at 
 the follies of men ; but even this is, as a 
 rule, to be avoided. To do otherwise would 
 be to make indifferent things objects of im- 
 portance. Why should he grieve over phys- 
 ical pain, reproach, or loss of property, friends, 
 or reputation ? They are not evils for him- 
 self, and if not, why grieve when they fall 
 to the lot of others ? Says Seneca : **A11 
 things, therefore, are to be made light of 
 and borne with tranquil mind. To be tort- 
 ured with others' misfortunes is a perpetual 
 misery ; to rejoice over them is an inhuman 
 pleasure. "f He even goes so far as to say 
 that it is a useless sympathy to weep and 
 knit one's brow, ev^en though some one is 
 burying his daughter.;}: 
 
 We can now understand why some of the 
 
 *Cf. Zeller, p 237. fDc Tranq. An., XV., a-4. |Ibid., XV., 4, 
 
 I 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 41 
 
 Stoics say that virtue is conformity v^^ith the 
 nature of the universe, and others, that it is 
 conformity with the nature of man. These 
 ^definitions may be interpreted as identical. 
 The course of the universe is founded on 
 reason, and the true nature of man is reason. 
 '• What can be better for us, who have re- 
 <:eived a rational nature,'* says Seneca, **than 
 reason.*'* **Zeno,"says Cicero, ** placed all 
 the virtues in reason.*' f And Cicero himself 
 5ays, ^'Virtue can be briefly defined as right 
 reason." J I n reason , therefore, ajpne does 
 m an find his harmony and oa enpss witk. the 
 ujiiverse^ By its magic power all discord, 
 internal and external, ceases. Calm, indif- 
 ferent to all else, he embarks on the stream 
 of fate, his mind fixed on this single object, 
 that no side-currents nor adverse winds shall 
 hinder him or drift him ashore. 
 
 To maintain this supremacy of reason, 
 now, certain precepts are repeatedly insisted 
 upon: 
 
 (i.) The passions must be thoroughly sub- 
 
 ♦Dc Vita Beata., XIV., i. 
 JTusc. Disp., IV., IS, 34. 
 
 fCic. Acad., I., xo. 
 
 n, 
 
 )i> 
 
 a 
 
42 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 43 
 
 / 
 
 f 
 
 dued and even extirpated. **The greatest 
 and noblest thing and most like the Deity/'* 
 we are told, ''is, Not to be disturbed.'* The 
 mind must remain in a placid state — never 
 filated, never depressed. Only thus can the 
 sage maintain his supremacy of reason. 
 
 (2.) He must withdraw from public affairs,, 
 and all exciting scenes, whenever his tran- 
 quillity and independence are threatened. 
 What cares he for politics or state ? The 
 world is his country. Honor is but vanity, 
 wealth is but a burden, patriotism an irration- 
 al passion. His virtue is his only treasure,, 
 and nothing is to allure him from it. 
 
 (3.) He must also accustom himself to the 
 greatest simplicity in apparel, food, furniture, 
 — in all his surroundings. Luxury ministers 
 only to passion ; it must be proscribed as a 
 deadly foe. *'We must be accustomed,'* says 
 Seneca, ** to remove from ourselves all dis- 
 play, * * * to restrain all luxury, to 
 govern our appetites, and to measure things 
 by their use, not by their ornament."f Wealth- 
 must not be sought. An amount but littU 
 
 •Dc Tranq. An., II., 3, 4. flbid., IX., i, a. 
 
 removed from poverty, and far removed from 
 riches, so that his independence shall not be 
 sacrificed on the one hand, nor his vanity 
 tempted on the other, is to be the limit of his 
 wishes. 
 
 (4.) Above all, he must withdraw within 
 himself, and find in contemplation a satisfac- 
 tion which he despairs of finding, and is 
 forbidden to seek, in the world. ''In se revo- 
 candtmt est r ''in se recedendum est,''* is the 
 favorite text on which the Stoic teachers love 
 to dwell, and to which they constantly revert. 
 In short, the sage is to be jealous of Fortune; 
 he is to trust himself as little as possible to 
 her caprices ; he is to be ready at all times 
 for the worst, and never to be disconcerted by 
 it. With but few sails spread, the rest cau- 
 tiously furled, prepared for all weathers and 
 accidents, he is to stand persistently at the 
 helm, from which no amusements are to en- 
 tice, nor storms drive him away. 
 
 But what if adversities are too severe for 
 mortal flesh and blood ? Can that ever hap- 
 pen ? " Yes, it may," say the Stoics. When- 
 
 ♦We must withdraw [the mind]; must retire within ourselves. 
 
 i I 
 
44 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 ever the sage by living must forfeit his 
 independence by reason of tyranny, poverty, 
 or other unavoidable evils, he may and ought 
 to take his own life. **The door stands 
 open,*' says Seneca; ''life is easily taken,"* 
 and life and death are things indifferent. The 
 sage never fears death. When impassable 
 barriers surround him, he will know that it is 
 the voice of the Deity summoning him, and 
 he will obey. This precept was faithfully 
 executed by Zeno, Cleanthes, Cato Minor, 
 Seneca, and others. 
 
 To recapitulate: The Stoics teach the 
 original dualism of matter and force ; that this 
 force is the Supreme Reason, the soul of the 
 universe; that the Supreme Reason has es- 
 tablished a rational course of the universe, 
 by which all things take place according to a 
 fixed law or fate ; that he himself is subject 
 to this law ; that it is the duty of the wise 
 man to conform to this law, since he is a 
 rational being; that this conformity consti- 
 tutes virtue, and virtue secures happiness; 
 that to this end hardships, t rials, and losses 
 
 •Dc Pror., VI., 6, and Cic. Tusc. Disp., I., 74. 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 45 
 
 are allotted by the Deity to the virtuous man 
 as a discipline ; that virtue is the only good 
 and a sufficient good ; that all other so-called 
 goods are illusive and spring from passion, 
 and not reason ; that passion is therefore to 
 be repressed, and reason invariably obeyed ; 
 that all which ministers to passion is to be 
 curtailed or avoided, and contemplation and 
 satisfaction in one*s self cultivated ; and, final- 
 ly, that no evils are to be feared but wicked- 
 ness, — not even death, which is to be sought 
 when virtue can not otherwise be maintained. 
 
 I * 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 The Ethical System of Kant. 
 
 We are now ready to compare with the 
 foregoing system the doctrine of Kant. 
 
 Immanuel Kant, the founder of the Critical 
 or Transcendental School of German phi- 
 losophy, was born at Konigsberg, Prussia, in 
 1 724. He was of Scottish descent, the orthog- 
 raphy of the family name, originally Cant, 
 having been changed to Kant to prevent the 
 pronunciation, Tsant. He was a profound 
 linguist, mathematician, and philosopher; yet 
 not early did his superior abilities command 
 public recognition. Not till his forty-sixth 
 year (1770) was he appointed professor of 
 logic and metaphysics in the university of his 
 native city. His life was devoted to study; 
 and such was his aversion to travel that he 
 is said never to have gone farther than thirty- 
 two miles from Konigsberg. 
 
 In person he was short and very spare, his 
 feeble frame and hollow chest betokening an 
 
 X 
 
50 
 
 Seneca and Kani, 
 
 early death, rather than the long and labo- 
 rious life which was granted to him. While 
 simple in dress and manners, he was rigidly 
 methodical in all his habits. Study, diet, 
 sleep, and exercise were regulated with 
 mathematical precision. Independence was a 
 marked trait of his character. During his 
 student career at the university, he was com- 
 pelled to maintain a constant struggle with 
 poverty, yet he preferred to wear a shabby 
 coat rather than accept any proffers of as- 
 sistance. When he had risen to eminence he 
 was visited by throngs of admirers, whom he 
 took great pleasure in entertaining, but al- 
 ways strictly within the limits of time which 
 
 he had marked out for himself. 
 
 Although a profound thinker, he was also 
 interested in lighter themes, and read and re- 
 read such works as **Tale of a Tub,'* and 
 "Hudibras.** As a lecturer, he was entertain- 
 ing and popular, and attracted crowds of stu- 
 dents and visitors. His friendships were warm 
 and lasting. The attachment between him 
 and the English merchant. Green, has a touch 
 of romance in it. His manners were agree- 
 
 If 
 
 11 
 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 51 
 
 able and he was entertaining even to chil- 
 dren His benevolent disposition is shown 
 in his liberal bestowments while living, and 
 the generous disposition of his property at 
 his dealh. His calm and meditative life was 
 protracted to fourscore years, his death oc- 
 curring in 1804. 
 
 His published works are numerous, fer- 
 haps the best known are his "Critique* of the 
 Pure Reason," "Critique of the Practical Rea- 
 son •• "Critique of the Faculty of Judgment,^^ 
 '.Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone, 
 and "A General History of Nature and The- 
 ory of the Heavens." The following state- 
 ment of his doctrine has been drawn chiefly 
 from his "Groundwork (or Fundamental Pnn- 
 ciples) of the Metaphysic of Ethics." 
 
 KANT'S ETHICS. 
 
 It will be convenient to consider the subject 
 under the following heads : 
 
 I, The Doctrine. II. Its Ground. III. 
 Its End. IV. Its Postulates. 
 
 ♦Or, Critical Examination. 
 
52 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 I. Kant sets out with the assertion that 
 there is nothing in the world that can be 
 called absolutely and entirely good but a 
 good will. This is good, not for the beneficial 
 effects that it produces, but in and of itself. If 
 happiness were the true object of nature in 
 the constitution of man, he has certainly beeiv 
 very poorly constituted to attain this end. 
 Instinct would have reached it far more un- 
 erringly than reason. In fact, the more 
 purposely a refined mind seeks its own en- 
 joyment, the less true contentment it finds. 
 This proves that reason has a higher and 
 nobler end than happiness ; namely, to pro- 
 duce in us a good will, not for any ulterior 
 end, but as a good in itself.* 
 
 When, now, Kant comes to develop the 
 notion of a good will, he finds involved in it 
 the cognate notion of duty, which must first 
 be explained. This he finds to be independ- 
 ent of all ideas of expediency, usefulness, 
 inclination, or subserviency to other purposes: 
 it is an end in itself. It is ''the obligation 
 
 ♦Grundlcgung zur Mctaphysik dcr Sitten. von Kirchmann'. ed., Scite 
 sa ff. Also, Abbott's and Scrapie's translations. 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 53 
 
 • 
 
 to an action, which arises from respect for the 
 moral law."* Thus my reason declares a 
 certain course of conduct to be right. This 
 is for me the moral law. As a rational being, 
 I must respect its behests, and am obligated 
 to perform them. This obligation is duty. 
 
 This conception of duty, therefore.— wheth- 
 er we consider its source, as not coming from 
 without, but as self-imposed by the reason ; or 
 its essence, as respecting not primarily the 
 outward action, nor the effects which such ac- 
 tion might produce, but first of all. the atti- 
 tude of the actor to the moral law itselt. 
 namely, that of respect.-necessarily leads 
 us back to the conception of a good will. In 
 the language of Kant. " The notion of duty 
 includes that of a good will, although under 
 certain subjective limitations and hinderances. 
 These, however, far from concealing it or 
 rendering it unrecognizable, rather bring it 
 out by contrast, and make it shine the 
 
 brighter."t , , . 
 
 But here we must not confound things 
 
 that are apparently the same, but radically 
 
 • v. Kirch., p. i8. 
 
 flbid., p. X4- 
 
 V 
 
54 
 
 Seneca and Ka7it. 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 different. For example, it is the duty of a 
 merchant not to overcharge his customers. 
 Commercial prudence also dictates the same 
 course. But actions springing from the latter 
 motive are utterly void of moral value. It is 
 also a duty to preserve one's life. Most men 
 do so from the constitution of their nature. 
 But only when a man, in the presence of 
 distress and sorrow, would fain choose death, 
 yet refuses it, influenced by duty alone, does 
 his course in this respect have any moral 
 worth. To use Kant's words: **An action 
 performed out of duty must entirely exclude 
 the influence of inclination,'' and of **every ob- 
 ject to be gained by it ; so that there remains 
 nothing that can determine the will, but, ob- 
 jectively, the law, and, subjectively, pure 
 reverence for it."* 
 
 Now, the first characteristic of the mora) 
 law is, that it commands, and commands 
 without any condition. Its absolutely un- 
 conditional mandate is, -Thou shalt ! thou 
 oughtest!" The moral law takes the form 
 of a command, since man is a sensuous as 
 
 55 
 
 ♦Ibid., p. 19. 
 
 well as rational being, and does not conform 
 to its requirements without effort and sacrifice. 
 In the technical language of Kant, "All im- 
 peratives are expressed by the word otight^ 
 and indicate thereby the relation of an object- 
 ive law of reason to a will which, by virtue 
 of its subjective constitution, is not 7iecessarily 
 determined by it."* 
 ^^' Now, all imperatives command either hy- 
 pothetically or categorically." When the 
 action commanded is good **onIy as a means 
 to something else y' the imperative is hypothet- 
 ical ; but when the action is conceived as good 
 in itself, that is, as the actjon of a will "which 
 of itself conforms to reason," the imperative 
 is categorical. Thus all the precepts of pru- 
 dence, or skill in the relation of means to 
 one's greatest welfare, are hypothetical; "the 
 action is not commanded absolutely, but only 
 as a means to another purpose." 
 
 But " there is an imperative which com- 
 mands a certain conduct immediately, without 
 proposing as a condition any other purpose 
 to be attained by it. This imperative is cat- 
 
 ^Ibid., p. 34. 
 
 \ 
 
 ■ m 
 
 \ I 
 
 if 
 
 11 
 
 f ! 
 
56 
 
 Seneca avd Kant. 
 
 egorical, ♦ * * and what is essentially 
 good in it consists in the mental disposition, 
 let the consequence be what it will." This 
 is the imperative of morality. I may have 
 rules of skill and cou?isels of prudence, but^ 
 only commands of morality. 
 
 In the case of a holy will,— for example, the 
 divine, the imperative would be entirely in- 
 applicable. **Thou shalt" were misapplied to 
 such a will, it being already of its own accord 
 in harmony with the law. But with man the 
 case is altogether different. His sensuous 
 nature, his appetites, desires, and passions 
 are constantly clamoring for gratifications that 
 are in entire opposition to the moral law. To 
 be happy is his desire— ** a desire which every 
 finite rational being necessarily has, since he 
 has unsatisfied wants.'f But happiness is of 
 empirical origin ; it has no certain basis ; it is 
 conditioned by circumstances; it is variable; 
 it is selfish. **To promote our happiness, 
 therefore, never can be an immediate duty; 
 still less can it be the principle of all duty/ *$ 
 
 »v. Kirch, pp 36-39- , , t» if « .cA 
 
 tKritik der praktischen Vernunft. Abbott s tranil. Rem. II., p. 15O. 
 
 JIbid., p. 367. 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 57 
 
 ■ /i 
 
 The moral law, on the contrary, utters its im- 
 perative without any regard to happiness. 
 Man's obedience, consequently, is never per- 
 fect, and never rendered without a struggle. 
 In Kant's words, ''The moral law represents 
 an ideal of holiness not attainable by any 
 
 creature an archetype toward which we are 
 
 ever to approximate. An infinite approxima- 
 tion toward holiness of will is all that is pos- 
 sible for man or any other finite being."* 
 
 This mandatory character of the law indi- 
 cates the proper attitude of a finite intelligence 
 toward it; namely, that of respect or rever- 
 ence. Kant will have nothing more nor less 
 than this. Thi* respect arises from the con- 
 ception of a worth and dignity in the law, 
 before which all self-love falls. Kant has no 
 patience with any other disposition in the per- 
 formance of duty. He will not hear of any 
 willingness, or desire, or pleasure in connec- 
 tion with it. \6uch conceptions of duty are 
 *' nothing but moral fanaticism;" they spring 
 from self-conceit, and ** beget a vain, over- 
 weening, fantastic wa y of thinking.'^f With 
 
 *G zur Met. d S. Semple's transl., pp. 105-132. 
 flbid., p. 134. Abbott, p. 154. 
 
 I II 
 
 \' 
 
 t« 
 
Seneca and Kant. 
 
 ii \ 
 
 ^ 
 
 58 
 
 Seneca and Ka7ii, 
 
 59 
 
 him, duty is downright delving in the heat 
 and dust; it is painful, humiliating, arduous. 
 It is work that requires tense muscle and 
 firm resolve — a constant rowing against the 
 stream. 
 
 ^his respect, though gratifying to reason, is 
 necessarily painful to sense, since the moral 
 v^ law disregards the claims of the sensory, and 
 casts down all self-love and all self-conceit al 
 a blow.* Yet man, in his self-conceit, is ever 
 seeking to circumvent the law, and fritter it 
 down to a means of his own advantage and 
 happiness, flattering himself that he ''needs 
 neither spur nor rein;"f that he can be a 
 volunteer, and, without any command, under- 
 take its duties spontaneously, and even with 
 love and delight. 
 
 The truth is, however, that its "solemn 
 majesty*' so impresses him with its worthiness 
 that he can not avoid, whether he will or not^ 
 feeling a respect for it. This respect is pain- 
 ful to his self-love, and he would fain be rid 
 of it. Hence his efforts to find som^ purpose, 
 gratifying to sense, in obedience to the law^ 
 
 *Cf. Schweglcr, Hist. Phil., pp. 255-6. 
 
 fCrit. of Prac. Reason. Abbott's transl., pp. 149, 254. 
 
 ^i 
 
 and to make conformity to it minister to his 
 happiness — as if its holy claims were not 
 supreme and to be subordinate to noth- 
 inor elseljl 
 
 ^But such conformity is mere legality, no 
 morality. The unyielding, holy precepts of 
 the law "never allow our frivolous self-love to 
 dally with sensory excitement, or plume our- 
 selves upon our meritorious worth."* Let usi 
 not flatter ourselves that the law is our serv- ( 
 ant, to minister to our pleasure and bow toj 
 our caprices ; it is our rightful lord and mas- 
 ter, justly demanding our obedience. Like 
 the great law of gravitation in the physical 
 world, it consults neither eur convenience nor 
 our wishes, but in conscious majesty makes 
 its unyielding demands peremptorily. " The / 
 grade, then, on the ethical scale, where man 
 finds himself, is that of reverence toward the 
 law."f His true moral sentiment is virtue, 
 not holiness ; he is to be militant, not perfect^ 
 ^ iTBut what is the nature of this law that com- 
 mands me so authoritatively ? Is it material ? 
 No ; for " all material principles of morality, 
 
 , ^ 
 
 •Ibid., Analytic. Semple's transl., pp. 133-135; Abbott, p. 255. 
 fCf. Abbott, p. 353. 
 
 I 
 
 ^ 
 
 I* 
 
 ij 
 
 M 
 
Seneca and Kant, 
 
 6i 
 
 60 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 that is, all theories that propose an object 
 chosen as determining the will, are one and 
 all taken from sense and experience, and, be- 
 ing a posteriori, can not supply a universal law 
 of action/'* These theories are all reducible 
 to self-love or desire for private happiness ; 
 not only such as Epicureanism and utilitarian- 
 ism, that are confessedly based on happiness, 
 but also the theories of benevolence, moral 
 sense, perfection, and even obedience to the 
 will of God. For Kant's theory of obedience 
 has already aimed to cut up by the roots all 
 theories of benevolence and perfection. They 
 are in his view egoistic, and spring out of 
 self-love. The benevolent man is gratifying 
 a feeling rather than obeying the law; the 
 Stoic, with all his rigor, is seeking for tran- 
 quillity ; the so-called moral sense, being 
 sensory, can never promulgate a universal 
 law ; moreover, it presupposes the existence 
 and the consciousness of such a law ; and he 
 asserts that even obedience to the will of God, 
 without a prior independent principle of mor- 
 
 
 
 *Ibid., p. t49- 
 
 
 s 
 
 
 
 • 
 
 
 • 
 
 » 
 
 • 
 
 I i'l 
 
 / 
 
 I 
 
 ality, can be a motive only by reason of the 
 happiness expected therefrom. 
 
 In Kant's words: *'We stand under a 
 discipline of reason, and in all our maxims 
 must not forget our subjection to it, nor with- 
 draw anything from it, nor by an egotistic 
 presumption diminish aught of the authority 
 of the law (although our own reason gives 
 it ), so as to set the determining principle of 
 the will anywhere else but in the law itself 
 and in respect for the law. Duty and obliga- 
 tion are the only names that we must give to 
 dur relation to the moral law." And again : 
 \VThe majesty of duty has nothing to do with 
 enjoyment of life ; it has its special law and 
 its special tribunal, and though the two should 
 be never so well shaken together to be given 
 well mixed, like medicine, to the sick soul, yet 
 they will soon separate of themselves, or the 
 former will not act, and the moral life will fade 
 away irrecoverably."* 
 
 Why should the moral law command me to 
 seek my happiness ? That instinct is already 
 inseparably rooted in my nature. The truth 
 
 • Analytic o£ Pure Practical Reason. Abbott's trans., in sub., pp. 249-60. 
 
 II 
 
 \\i 
 
62 
 
 Seneca afid Kant. 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 63 
 
 
 is, it does not, but commands something en- 
 tirely irrespective of my happiness. All these 
 theories are only ** maxims " * of my own 
 willing, — empirical, partial, selfish ; they can 
 none of them be universally applied. On the 
 contrary, 4 Reason utters her inexorable com- 
 mand, and holds out to the appetites no pros- 
 pect nor promise whatsoever." When she 
 gives her command to abstain from lying, it is 
 utterly independent of all ideas of prudence 
 or congeniality to feeling.^ 
 /' As, therefore, all material principles are 
 reducible to self-love, and as self-love affords 
 only a conditional law, a mere " maxim '* of 
 willing, the law, as a priori, must be purely 
 rational, that is, formal and universal, and may 
 be stated thus: *' Act always according to 
 maxims which thou canst wish to be accepted 
 as universal laws."f Weighed in this balance, 
 all my maxims of prudence and self-seeking 
 are found wanting. Have I a right to promise 
 falsely, though in need ? to live a life of ease, 
 because I happen to have a competency ? to 
 
 * Rules of conduct derived from experience, and hence variable, tubjec 
 to opinion, and not binding upon all. 
 \ Grund. zur Met. der Sitten, Seite 44. 
 
 I 1 
 
 take my own life, because of pain or poverty 
 or trouble? These and a thousand similar 
 questions, when put to the test of universal 
 applicability, at once fall to the ground. I 
 can not conceive a case to which this law 
 would not apply. All the maxims of my will 
 must therefore strictly conform to this law; 
 then the rational and the empirical, the formal 
 and the material, are united in a symmetrical 
 whole, in which Reason is supreme and inde- 
 pendent, **the author of her own principles/'* 
 This last expression is significant as showing 
 the origin of Kant's moral law, and the 
 character of his whole system. 
 ^ Now the fact that man can- thus break loose 
 from the chains of the sensory and obey the 
 higher law of reason, constitutes the dignity 
 of his nature ; and this self-determining power 
 Kant calls the *' Autonomy of the Will.*' In 
 distinction from this, when he fails to conform 
 to it, and yields to the sensory, he falls into 
 the chain of mere mechanical causation; he 
 is no longer self-determined in the true sense ; 
 a foreign law rules, and this is ** Heteronomy 
 
 • Ibid, von Kirchmann, p. 77. 
 
 / 
 
64 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 of the Will.*' The autonomy of a holy will 
 ( the divine ) is perfect and under the law of 
 necessity, while that of finite beings, not 
 altogether good, is under the law of obliga- 
 tion.* *♦ Autonomy," says Kant, **is the 
 sole principle of ethics,**t for all the rest of 
 man's activity, as we have seen, is void of 
 moral value. 
 
 II. Let us now consider the ground of the 
 doctrine above presented. The doctrine of 
 obligation to autonomy, just stated, presents 
 man in a twofold aspect, (i) as giving law ; 
 (2) as subject to law ; as rational and sensory ; 
 as under dynamical and under, mechanical 
 laws. He is therefore a citizen of two worlds, 
 with a ** twofold set of laws regulating the 
 conduct and exercise of his powers." As a 
 
 • In no one step of nature is there any alternative ; from what already 
 is, that step which is now proximately future must be taken, and must be so 
 taken as has already been conditioned. There is no autonomy, no will, na 
 
 personality, consequently no liberty The choices of animal 
 
 nature are component links in this iron chain of necessity as truly as tho 
 eflfects of gravity. It is controlled by appetite and thus by nature, not by 
 its own behest in reason and thus in liberty. Hence the animal is ever 
 thing and never person. Man, also, by as much as he is sentient, is animal 
 only. . . . Except as man has a higher endowment than a sentient nature 
 .... in which he may resist and subjugate all the clamorous appetites of 
 sense, and hold them in perpetual servitude to his own ethical end, he neither 
 has nor can have any personality nor responsibility, inasmuch as otherwise 
 he possesses no will in liberty.— Hickok's Rational Psychology, pp. 44*-3* 
 j- Anal, der prak. Ver. Abbott, p. 169. 
 
 65 
 
 \! 
 
 part of the world of sense, he is but a "phe- 
 nomenon,"* subject to the same laws of 
 mechanical causation and necessity as other 
 phenomena. Were this all, it would follow 
 that every act takes place necessanfy, by 
 virtue of conditions that happened in past 
 time, now out of his power, and therefore he 
 could not be free. Or, if exempted from the 
 law of physical necessity, his actions would be 
 in the domain of blind chance. 
 
 On the other hand, were I independent of 
 the physical system, were I a pure " noume- 
 non," * I should be entirely liberated from 
 the law of mechanical causation. No condi- 
 tion of the past, no appetites of the present, 
 could enthrall me or bring me under any 
 heteronomy of will. But I am neither of 
 these, and yet in a sense both. I am both a 
 
 coenl.ld r ," • «""""'"' "<" ">« «««"«»! grounds of things a. 
 
 cognu.d by reason alone, apart from the limitations of the senses ; or as w. 
 mayconcve them to be cognized by the divine mind. Kant calls then! 
 a^so h.„g .Hemseivcs. In dist.nction from these, objects, as they appear 
 .hrongh he senses, are called phenomena. Here the words are used for 
 purely rational beings and purely physical beings.- Of. Dr. N. Porter : "The 
 'twlTl^^'Tn'J '" "" P*"'"""'""' i» """i by Kan, the ,..„„„,, ,,, 
 
 ^rZndldh "" ""' "' """'"=" "^ "" "-"' "- "- " "= «P- 
 
 nomcna ^ , "^^ ""'• '' '"" "'" '""^ ■"" ^^^P' »"<« '"ves phe- 
 
 !o.^f?» " r "■"r""""". « «'»'iows which do no. satisfy us but 
 po.n. to something whtch we never can ,.ach."-Human Intellect! P.C 
 
 l\\ 
 
 B 
 
66 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 '' noiimenon'' and a "phenomenon." As 
 Poetter soys : ,,^l« S'^oumenon gicbt ber ^cnfc^ 
 bag Sitkngc?e6 ; alS Tmnlic^eS 2Befen ift cr cicfcm ®c^ 
 fefie untermotfen." And again : „3n bcr ^ritif bcr 
 j)raftiic^cn SSctnunft toinbicirt alfo Rant bem 3)ienfc^en 
 ein jc^5pfcrifc^e« 3Serm5gcn. ^ic t^corctifc^e SBcrnunft 
 ift in feiner SBeijc fc^opferifc^, fonbern nur crtenncnb ; 
 bie vraltif c^c c r b a u t fic^ fclbfti^re 2Bclt"* 
 But as a rational agent, man must consider 
 himself a member, not so much of the sensi- 
 ble, as of the supersensible system, a system 
 whose laws are entirely independent of me- 
 chanical influences, and have their grounds in 
 reason only.f Now the fundamental fact in a 
 rational will \s freedom. *' We must attribute 
 to every rational being possessing a will, the 
 idea of freedom, under which idea alone can 
 he act."$ This freedom is the power of leg- 
 islating for himself, and of determining his 
 own causality accordingly: this constitutes 
 true autonomy of will. In Kant's words, 
 
 ♦ As a noumenon man gives the law of morals; as a sensuous being 
 he is subject to this law. Accordingly, in the Critical Examination of tht 
 Practical Reason, Kant claims for man a creative power. The pure (spec- 
 ulative) reason is in no way creative, but only cognitive ; the practical 
 (moral) constructs its own world.— Poetter's Gesch. der Phil. Theil II., 
 
 pp. 132-4. 
 
 t Grund. lur Met. der Sitten ; v. Kirch., p. 83. 
 X Ibid., f p. 76-7. 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 67 
 
 before quoted, ** Reason must regard herself 
 as the author of her own principles ;" and 
 again : '* As a rational being, and hence as 
 belonging to the supersensible world, man 
 can never think of the causality of his 
 will but under the idea of freedom/'* Moral 
 freedom may be defined, then, negatively, as 
 
 the will's independence of the sensory ** of 
 
 everything except the moral law ;" and, posi- 
 tively, as the power of self-legislation and 
 self-determination. 
 
 The freedom of man is further apparent 
 when we remember that the world of nou- 
 mena, according to Kant, contains and under- 
 lies the world of ph^omena. Hence I, as 
 rational, as a noumenon, must regard myself 
 as more immediately connected with the 
 former, f The necessitarians have greatly 
 erred here; for while recognizing man as a 
 rational being, they have applied to his reason 
 the same laws of causality that belong to him 
 as a phenomenon — an evident absurdity. 
 Not less absurd is it to trace the determina- 
 
 • Ibid., p. 8a. 
 t Ibid., p. 81. 
 
 ■I 
 
68 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 Seneca and Kant 
 
 69 
 
 tions of the will to remote psychological 
 causes acting upon the sensations;* for ''this 
 comes at last to, and is in no wise distinguish- 
 able from, physical necessity."! If, now, we 
 are asked to define analytically the freedom 
 of an active cause, Kant pronounces it ulti- 
 mate and incomprehensible. Yet, as we can 
 not think without a category, it may be re- 
 ferred, in his scheme of categories, to Causal- 
 ity, of the class Dynamical. 
 
 III. Passinor now to consider the end of 
 
 o 
 
 the law, it is remarked by Kant that every- 
 thing in the realm of ends has either a price 
 (^rciiS) or a dignity- (SBiirbc). What is 
 subservient to human wants and wishes, has a 
 market-price ; but that which constitutes the 
 condition by virtue of which alone anything 
 can be an end in itself, has not merely a 
 relative value, that is, a price, but an intrinsic 
 worth or dignity. Morality alone is this con- 
 dition, since only by it does man become an 
 end in himself, and a legislator in the realm 
 of ends.J All other ends are eudsemonistic 
 
 * Cf. H. Spencer's Theory. 
 
 t Semple, p. 149. 
 
 X G. zur M. d. S., von Kirch., p. 60 ff. 
 
 and have consequently a price, proportioned 
 to their capacity to yield pleasure ; they bring 
 man also under the dominion of mechanical 
 causation. 
 
 The dignity or worthiness, therefore, not 
 the happiness of man, is the end of the law.* 
 And this respects not himself alone, but 
 every rational being, who is both a legislator 
 and subject of this realm. ** Everything in 
 the created world may be used as a means, 
 man alone excepted." He only is an end in 
 himself. Heace we may now give a content 
 to the formal law before announced, and lay 
 down a second principle of morality as fol- 
 lows : '*Act so as to*use mankind, both in ^ 
 thine own person and the persons of others, 
 ever as an end and never merely as a means."f 
 Or, combining the two principles in one: 
 
 **Act according to the ideal will of all 
 rational beings, as the source of a universal 
 legislation." J 
 
 *The moral rule, or ultimate rule of right, we have already seen to be 
 that a reasonable being ought to act reasonably ; or, as it might otherwise 
 be stated, that all voluntary action should be held subordinate to the dig- 
 oity of the rational spirit. — Hickok : Moral Science, p. 38. 
 
 f G. z. Met. der S., p. 53. 
 
 X Ibid., pp. 56-9. 
 
70 
 
 Seneca a7td Kant, 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 71 
 
 IV. Let us now briefly consider the postu- 
 lates of this doctrine. Is reason perfectly 
 satisfied with the end just announced, namely, 
 the worthiness of man? No. By the con- 
 stitution of our nature we desire happiness, 
 but this theory provides only for wortlmiess 
 of happiness. Reason plainly intimates that 
 the ideal end of man, the sumtnum bonurn^ 
 would be the union of holiness and happiness. 
 But that state is clearly unattainable here. 
 We can only approximate toward holiness ; 
 and happiness — such are the obstructions of 
 sense — often fails to correspond even to the 
 degree of virtue that is attained. We must, 
 therefore, postulate : 
 
 1. An endless contmuation of our exist- 
 ence, in which, by an endless progress in 
 virtue, holiness may be at length attained. 
 In other words, the theory presupposes the 
 immortality of the soul. 
 
 2. As holiness would not realize the high- 
 est good without happiness, we must postulate 
 also a being, who, as common ruler in the 
 ** kingdoms of nature and grace,'' will effect 
 the harmony required by reason between 
 
 t 
 
 them. In other words, we must postulate the 
 existence of God. 
 
 3. We have already adverted to the fact 
 that reason requires the subjection of the 
 sensory to the rational. The categorical im- 
 perative of the moral law, and the conviction 
 of our moral freedom, require us to postulate 
 this subjection, which may be expressed thus : 
 ** Thou canst, for thou oughtest." 
 
 It would be interesting to consider the 
 application of Kant's ethical principles in his 
 ** Elementology of Ethics," his casuistry, and 
 his views on religion. Our limits allow only a 
 passing notice of the latter. In his '' Religion 
 Within the Limits of Reason Alone," the 
 most unhappy of his works in its antagonism 
 to revelation, Kant distinguishes sharply be- 
 tween moral faith, that is, the faith of reason, 
 and historical or statutory faith, that is, faith 
 in a revelation, and denies that the historical 
 element is binding as an article of faith. 
 
 On this point he seems to be almost in 
 harmony with Origen's theory of revelation, 
 that the historical parts of Scripture serve 
 only as a web for the inweaving of divine 
 
72 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 73 
 
 mysteries.* *'To suppose/' says Kant, "histor- 
 ical faith incumbent as a duty is superstition. 
 Yet moral faith always allows a man to be- 
 lieve in the historical, in so far as he finds the 
 latter conducive to enlivening his purely moral 
 and religious sentiments/' 
 
 A dogma or myth is worthless unless it has 
 a moral, that is, a rational, content. Hence the 
 statutory element is ever to be secondary to 
 the moral.f If the reverse prevails, priestcraft 
 and superstition follow. In short, he alleges 
 that everything man fancies he can do, over 
 and above good moral conduct, to render 
 himself acceptable to God, (for example, 
 prostrating himself to the earth, or using im- 
 ages in adoration,) is mere mock-service of 
 the Deity. J 
 
 On the other hand, his doctrine of deprav- 
 ity was rigorous enough for the most ortho- 
 dox ; moreover, on the visible and invisible 
 church, and the Kingdom of God on Earth, 
 he made valuable contributions to theology. 
 
 ♦ Origens Works, T. & T. Clark's Ed., Vol. I., pp. ,9,-34,. 
 
 t Cf. Schwcgler, Hist. Phil., pp. 260-1 ; and Emerson, Conduct of Life, 
 p. 181. • 
 
 \ Religion innerhalb der Grenzen der blossen Vernunft, pp. a6o-i. 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 To recapitulate : Kant teaches that the 
 supreme end of man is not happiness, but a 
 good will ; that this is an intrinsic, uncondi- 
 tioned good ; that only respect for the moral 
 law gives moral worth to an action; that 
 this law is announced by reason, and that its 
 commands are categorical and peremptory ; 
 that obligation to obey it is duty, and duty 
 respects not happiness ; that respect or rev- 
 erence for the law is the only feeling with 
 which duty should be performed; that any 
 other obedience is mere legality, not morality ; 
 that holiness or moral perfection is in this life 
 impossible, only a will like the divine being 
 holy ; that the law, as given by the pure 
 reason, must transcend all material ends and 
 all mere maxims of willing and be purely 
 formal and universal ; that fitness for universal 
 application is the formula for all moral action ; 
 that man, as rational, is free, but, as a part of 
 nature, is controlled by necessity ; that the 
 rational is superior to nature, and henc^ man 
 possesses autonomy of will ; that as morality 
 is an end in itself, every human being, as the 
 subject of morality, must be regarded as an 
 
74 
 
 Seneca a?id Kant. 
 
 end, and never merely as a means; that the 
 intelh'gent apph'cation of the formula thus 
 contemplates all rational beings ; that worth- 
 iness, not happiness, is the end of the law ; 
 that, as rational, we must postulate the 
 supremacy of reason over sense, the exist- 
 ence of God, and the immortality of the 
 soul ; that the moral precepts of Scripture, 
 being rational, are binding upon all, but faith 
 in its history is only voluntary ; that true re- 
 ligion differs from morality only in recogniz- 
 ing our duties as divine commands; and^ 
 finally, that moral conduct is incumbent on 
 every one, but worship is only tutelary ta 
 this end, and optional. 
 
 i 
 
 \ 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
, I 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 A Comparison and Criticism of the Two Systems. 
 
 We are now ready to compare the two 
 systems, and to offer some comments upon 
 them. 
 
 From the foregoing presentation, it is clear 
 that with three vital and fundamental points 
 of Stoicism, Kant is in entire harmony. In 
 asserting the dualism and antagonism of 
 sense and reason in man, in demanding the 
 supremacy of reason, and in affirming that 
 by virtue of reason he is a law unto himself, 
 Kant's language is as emphatic as Seneca's. 
 The great doctrine of ** the autonomy of 
 reason and the subjection of oassion" con- 
 
 stitutes the essence of both systems, and 
 Kant is essentially a Stoic. What, then, are 
 their points of difference ? 
 
 I. The first thing that attracts the reader's 
 attention, perhaps, if we may speak of such a 
 
 [ ^ 
 

 I 
 
 78 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 point in this connection, is a total difference 
 of style. Seneca is terse, pointed, without \ 
 ornament, and frequently harsh. His sen- I 
 tences are brief and epigrammatic — some- / 
 times to obscurity. Kant's style is also 
 considered sufficiently obscure, but the ob- 
 scurity proceeds from an opposite cause. 
 Long, involved sentences, clause piled upon 
 clause, and modification after modification, 
 characterize his style.* This quality, com- 
 bined with his peculiarly technical language, 
 exacts the closest attention of the reader to 
 seize the thought. De Quincey aptly liken- 
 ed his sentences to the cumbersome English 
 stage-coach of his time, of which capacity 
 was the chief recommendation. While dif- 
 fering widely in this respect, they are not 
 unlike, however, in their loose, digressive 
 arrangement, unnecessary and wearisome rep- 
 etition, and general lack of orderly presen- 
 tation. 
 
 2. . One can not fail to notice, also, that 
 Kant brings a more powerful mind to the 
 investigation of the subject. No one will 
 
 ^ Cf. Bowen's Modern Phil., Introduction on Kant. 
 
 > 
 
 S <i 
 
 Seneca and Ka7it. 
 
 79 
 
 complain of the vapidness of his thoughts, 
 however ill expressed, which can not always 
 be said of Seneca. His grasp is masterly; 
 and even when we can not agree with him, 
 we are bound to respect him. Kant has 
 grappled with the difficult problems of the 
 w[ll, and the relation of mind to matter, and 
 thrown much light upon them, while these 
 subjects have been left unexplained or in 
 confusion by Seneca. 
 
 3. Seneca's theory of physics involved 
 him in inextricable fatalism, with which the 
 duties enjoined by him remain in unreconciled 
 and irreconcilable antagonism. Kant's doc- 
 trine of '' noiimenon'' and ** phenomenon " 
 leaves man a sphere of freedom, and his 
 autonomy is thus rational and consistent. 
 
 4. Perhaps the most radical difference 
 between them is found in their doctrines of 
 happiness. 1 Seneca, in harmony with the 
 other Stoics, assumes the perfectibility of 
 man in the present state, by teaching that 
 happiness or tranquillity is indissolubly con- 1 
 nected with virtue. Kant utterly rejects this 
 tenet of Stoicism, and affirms that in the 
 
1 1 
 
 80 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 81 
 
 I present life virtue and happiness find no cor- 
 
 7 respondence. Yet he admits the theoretical 
 
 ■ truth of the doctrine, by postulating a future 
 
 state in which this harmony will at length 
 
 be consummated. 
 
 5 The Stoic theory of life as a discipline, 
 wavers between self-discipline and discipline 
 administered by the Deity ; with Kant, it is 
 self-discipline throughout. 
 
 6 With Seneca, the moral law has an 
 author. It was established by the Deity, 
 who obeys it himself. With Kant, no per- 
 sonal origin is assigned exterior to the mind, 
 and we are taught that it is the child of rea- 
 son only. . f f 
 
 7 Kant emphasizes the doctrine of free- 
 dom as the glory of man and the ground of 
 all virtue ; the Stok£ilds- thp rhi e f fi^chibit ^on 
 of virtuejiLendura nce, and submj ssionjojate. 
 While SrnrrV- '^y^tem. therefore, is essen- 
 tiallx__passiye, Kant's system is an active, 
 aggressivTcourse of self-culture. 
 
 8 The Stoics discouraged metaphysics 
 ' proper, and art. as well as all active occupa- 
 tions, enjoining retirement and contemplation 
 
 ■A 
 
 ill 
 
 rather than a public career; Kant, although 
 retired himself, took a deep interest in all 
 these. 
 
 9. Finally, the Stoics, with uncertain and 
 pantheistic views of the future, justified the 
 taking of one's own life ; Kant pronounces 
 suicide a crime of the darkest hue. 
 
 Having thus compared the two systems, 
 let us now look at each separately. The 
 great excellence of Kant's system appears 
 in the lofty ideal of virtue which he sets be- 
 fore us. He has climbed heights that are 
 tugged and steep, but he breathes an atmos- 
 phere purer and more invigorating than any 
 theory yet presented, with happiness as its 
 supreme end, allows its advocates to reach. 
 With him, virtue is a struggle, not a grat- 
 ification; a debt, instead of a charity; a 
 sacrifice, and not a luxury. Duty is high- 
 er than happiness, and heroism than self- 
 seeking. The grossness, sensualism, and 
 egoism, which tend inevitably to follow all 
 theories of eudaemonism, are evidently struck 
 down at a blow. Naturalism or panthe- 
 ism fares no better at his hands. Con- 
 6 
 
\ 
 
 82 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 trary to the nature-worship and fatalism of a 
 Spinoza, man is superior to nature, and free * 
 Here again the avenues to recklessness and 
 passion" are closed ; for good and evil are 
 not mere " relative conceptions" for man to 
 trifle with, nor can he complacently ascribe 
 all his acts, evil and good, to the will of God.f 
 Freedom brings responsibility, or, to use 
 Kant's expression, obligation to autonomy, 
 and man must respect his own worthiness as 
 an end in itself. This part of Kant's doctrine 
 unquestionably stands on an immovable basis. 
 Equally elevated and noble is his rever- 
 ence for the majesty of the moral law. One 
 is reminded of the exulting veneration^ of 
 the psalmist for the law of God. J Kant 
 grows enthusiastic. For once the icy atmos- 
 phere becomes genial, as he relaxes from his 
 imperturbable rigor and exclaims, "Two things 
 fill the mind with ever new and increasing 
 admiration and awe, the oftener and longer 
 we reflect upon them: the starry heavens 
 above and the moral law within." || And 
 
 <• Cf Wutlke's Christ. Ethics, Vol. I, p. 3'7 ^' ^ p • 
 
 Phil.. Vol. II., p. 184. 
 
 i 
 
 I .-.. 
 
 ii 
 
 1,. 
 
 1\ 
 
 Seneca a7id KanL 
 
 83 
 
 surely no one, of whatever creed, who be- 
 lieves in virtue at all, will deny him his meed 
 of praise for holding aloft the torch to erring 
 man, and bidding him look to the noble and 
 imperishable. 
 
 But, with all its excellences, the system of 
 Kant contains very serious defects. 
 
 I. The means by which I am to recognize 
 the moral law in any given case, is its fitness 
 for universal application. But fitness for uni- 
 versality is an abstraction, a mere algebraic 
 formula. How shall I know what is fit to be 
 universal without a rule to guide me ? Is it 
 a sufficient description of gravitation to say 
 that it is universal in nature, or fit to be so ? 
 Unless I already know what the good and 
 the right is, or have a Socratic demon to 
 whisper it in my ear, I may be as helpless 
 with Kant's rule as before. In short, Kant 
 has taken the sign instead of the substance, 
 
 a very unerring sign, indeed, to those who 
 
 can recognize it, but not the substance; a 
 guide to the town, instead of the town. 
 
 As Cousin says, ** By separating duty from 
 interest, which ruins it, and from sentiment, 
 
84 
 
 Seneca and Kafti. 
 
 Seneca aftd Kant. 
 
 which enervates it, Kant restored to eth- 
 ics its true character. He elevated himself 
 very high in the century of Helvetius, in 
 elevating himself to the holy law of duty; 
 but still he did not ascend high enough, he 
 did not reach the reason itself of duty/' 
 And again, "If one act must be perform- 
 ed, and another not, it is because there is 
 manifestly an essential difference between 
 these two acts. To found the good on ob- 
 ligation, instead of founding obligation on 
 the good, is therefore to take the effect for 
 the cause, is to make the principle follow 
 from the conclusion."* 
 
 The entire import of Kant's formula is, 
 '* Exclude all material motives, all considera- 
 tions of desire, inclination, interest, personal 
 happiness, and the like, and obey only the 
 law which reason announces. You may know 
 this law by the utter absence of empirical 
 elements, of all limitations of time and place. 
 It is binding upon all, ever and everywhere." 
 But what is this more than the Stoics long 
 ago uttered? '^ Obey rea son and not im- 
 
 * Lectures on the True, the Beautiful, and the Good, Lect. XiV., p. 
 
 85 
 
 pulse." They gave, as precepts for obeying 
 reason, the somewhat ambiguous injunctions, 
 ** Conform to nature ; be at harmony with 
 yourself; be consistent.*' In universality, it 
 is true, Kant gives a somewhat clearer sign. 
 But the chief value of his rule, like that of 
 the Stoics, is negative. It is lofty and clear 
 in what it prohibits, not so clear in what it 
 enjoins. 
 
 2. But when we look a little farther, we 
 find a personal element in the rule which 
 makes it still more objectionable. ** Act ac- 
 cording to maxims thou canst wish to serve 
 as universal laws." Then the element of fit- 
 ness for universality is to be determined by 
 the wish of the actor. If, therefore, any 
 iiltimate standard, any definite guidance, is 
 to be furnished by the rule, it presupposes 
 that all men agree as to what is fit to be 
 universal — a proposition which, if true, needs 
 to be cleared up, to say the least. To dis- 
 miss the fundamental principle of ethics with 
 the single trait of fitness for universality, 
 quietly assuming that the conception is in- 
 delibly fixed in the mind of every human 
 
 V 
 
 / 
 
 / 
 
 'I? 
 
86 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 87 
 
 
 being, child and philosopher, savage and 
 cultured, is certainly a petitio principii, 
 since the essence of the matter is manifestly 
 untouched. And, furthermore, Kant here 
 falls into the empiricism that he so much 
 dreads and detests, since the essential mat- 
 ter is not scientifically announced, but refer- 
 jred to individual experience. 
 
 Even if we say with Kant, Cudworth, and 
 others that a sense of right, a recognition of 
 the eternal and immutable right, is implanted 
 in every rational nature {inter deos et homijies 
 commimio piris est, Cic. de Leg.), when we 
 have secured obedience to reason, have we 
 therefore secured all ? 
 
 Suppose, for the argument, that we grant 
 
 the postulated supremacy of reason; that 
 
 [ we conceive all mankind as exercising sa 
 
 \ ^complete control over their instincts, ap- 
 
 ^/ petites, and sensibilities in general, that they 
 
 might be considered as divested of all these 
 
 troublesome elements except reverence for 
 
 the moral law; suppose, further, that the 
 
 ideas of faith, redemption, and salvation 
 
 should be universally extinguished; that 
 
 
 all revelations from God should be destroy- 
 ed, all statutes enacted by society annulled; 
 that all the positive institutions of society 
 for judicial, penal, and devotional purposes 
 —courts, prisons, churches, etc.— should be 
 abolished, and that all influence of hered- 
 ity, habit, prejudice, etc. should henceforth 
 cease; in short, that there should be ab- 
 solutely nothing prescriptive in morals from 
 any quarter. We should then have perfect 
 autonomy, perfect freedom, perfect individu- 
 alism. Should we also have perfect morals ? 
 Would these rational creatures, with but a 
 single sentiment that could express itself, 
 meet the requirements of the moral law, or 
 be able to make an intelligent use of the 
 formula ? Far from it. One contingency yet 
 remains, even in these most favorable sur- 
 roundings. A judgment must be formed as 
 to what is fit to be universal, and this, not 
 only in the simple, but in all the complex 
 relations of life ; not only by those of lofty 
 intellectual endowment, but by the average, 
 the mediocre, the dwarf. Granting that a 
 few giant intellects, like Kant, may do well 
 
 
 / 
 
88 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 m carrying out such a formula (though they 
 must be painfully conscious of many mis- 
 takes), the mass of mankind lack even the 
 intellectual capacity to make such a law 
 serviceable. 
 
 But what of the "Golden Rule?" Does 
 not the same objection apply to it ? To this 
 it may be answered that when I am asked 
 to do to others as I would have them do to 
 me, an appeal is made to my self-love as a 
 measure to apply to my conduct toward oth- 
 ers—a measure, for mankind in general, far 
 more tangible and applicable than the judg- 
 ment as to what is fit to be universal. Fur- 
 thermore, if the "Golden Rule" be considered 
 only a formal principle, it is complemented 
 by the positive precept of love. In Christian 
 ethics, therefore, we do not find the indefinite- 
 ness and inapplicability that belong to the 
 Kantian system. 
 
 3. But does Kant's postulated supremacy 
 of reason correspond with the fact ? Accord- 
 ing to Kant himself, there is a deep and dark 
 corruption in man's nature, an inherent prone- 
 ness to evil ; and this is not without the daily 
 
 Seneca and Ka7it. 
 
 89 
 
 confirmation of experience. The majority of 
 mankind do not obey the categorical impera- 
 tives of the reason as such ; they are restrain- 
 ed by religion, custom, fear, the civil law, and 
 other "material" motives; they seek the 
 pleasures of sense and appetite; and hence 
 are under heteronomy of will. For them 
 the postulated supremacy of reason is a 
 contradiction, their alleged superiority as 
 ^'noumetta" over their sensual natures as 
 "phenomena" a mockery, and the resulting 
 freedom claimed for them a nonentity. They 
 have fallen from their autonomy, or they 
 aiever reached it, and are now mere links in 
 the chain of mechanical causation. 
 
 And if, as rational beings, they have fallen 
 into heteronomy, by what power, according 
 to Kant, shall they ever be restored to 
 autonomy? Will the power that was insuf- 
 ficient to keep them from falling be compe- 
 tent to restore them when fallen ? 
 
 4. Again, the whole system is cold, ab- 
 stract, and impersonal. There is a law, but 
 no lawgiver or judge, unless we assign to 
 reason those difficult functions. As Mar- 
 
90 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 
 ) 
 
 y^ 
 
 tensen says, "When unmixed, disinterested 
 reverence for law, for the majesty of duty, 
 is mentioned as the motive of duty, though 
 we certainly can not refuse our esteem for 
 his motive, yet neither can we acknowledge 
 It as the highest."* For not the relation ta 
 an impersonal law, but only the personal 
 relation of adoring love and gratitude to God 
 - himself, can produce the most sincere motive 
 to action in the kingdom of personality. And 
 again, how can mere law bind me, call me to 
 account, summon me before its judgment- 
 seat Pf For the mass of mankind, how inap- 
 plicable and useless were such a law as Kant 
 has announced ! + Conceive, for example, an 
 Esquimau or a Papuan rising to this cold 
 and sublime altitude, where all desire and 
 pleasure, all interest and sympathy are left be- 
 
 • Martcnsen, Christ. Ethics, pp. 3,5-550. 
 t Ibid., in sub. 
 
 Givfrf^rrl ?'?'?'* *^°""' «'^^ °^ ""^^" «"d bond of union with th« 
 
 ^ othlr 1 • ^^ '"'' '" "'"' ^'^ ™^J"^y °^ -- -'--^ precedence abovl 
 all other living creatures I Mysterious facultv th. n,«»K /*"" ^''^^^ 
 
 f language, of tears, and of smiles! R 7 " °^ ^°"^^'<^'^"» 
 
 son because hi. R. • • . But man ,s something beside Rea. 
 
 subitanceTf inLti^aT^nX^ '?''''" '""" ^'°^^* '^'^ '" ^^^ 
 
 become a realitv Ind ^"^"^*^"^'"«^ *"d '^Pecific Inclination, in order to- 
 H.„.T»K ^, . ""^ object of consciou.sness and experience 
 
 tive nature rnl -7 I P"fectly applicable to our mixed and sensi 
 
 ttve naturc-Colendge. Prm. of Pol. Knowl.. Essay IV.. ad/in. 
 
 Seneca and Ka7it, 
 
 91 
 
 hind, and there dedicating himself reverentially 
 to the categorical imperatives of the moral 
 law ! Surely Kant's system is esoteric indeed; 
 considering the nature of man, it would find 
 audience fit, but very few. 
 
 Just here we see the power of Christianity; 
 for it not only teaches, but affords training 
 and help ; extends the sympathy of man, and 
 commends to the mercy of God. And with 
 instruction, and more than instruction, da 
 men need sympathy. To the weak, the ir- 
 resolute, the fallen, how often is mere teach- 
 ing powerless ! For them, Kant, beckoning 
 upward and coldly saying, ** Reason ! Au- 
 tonomy! Thou oughtest!" is but sounding 
 the note of despair. Sympathy and help, 
 divine and human, alone can restore them to 
 true rationality. And the cross will never 
 cease to be powerful so long as it is the 
 symbol of tears — the emblem of all that is 
 gracious and loving in God and man. 
 
 5. Another obvious criticism of Kant*s 
 system is his unscientific treatment of the 
 sensibilities. He degrades them unduly by 
 classing them with the appetites in an indis- 
 
92 
 
 Soieca and Ka?ii. 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 95 
 
 criminate mass, and placing them all in an- 
 tithesis to the moral law. Then virtue ceases 
 to be virtue the moment one desires it. A 
 man must ever drag himself into obedience, 
 and obey under the lash of command. Rev^ 
 erence, not cheerfulness, is to be the feeling 
 with which he performs every duty. Think 
 of the duties of friendship, or the family cir- 
 cle, performed in such a spirit! Is, then, a 
 kindness less a kindness because it is render- 
 ed cheerfully } Or is its virtue enhanced by 
 our knowing that it was bestowed under a 
 stern sense of the categorical imperatives of 
 the moral law, and after a due calculation as 
 to its fitness to furnish a maxim for universal 
 application? Schiller's satirical scruple of 
 conscience was well aimed at this vulnerable 
 point of Kant's philosophy thus : 
 
 "The friends whom I love I gladly would serve, 
 But to this inclination incites me; 
 And so I am forced from virtue to swerve. 
 Since my act through affection delights me." 
 
 The doubter is admonished as follows: 
 
 "The friends whom thou lov'st thou must first seek to' scorn. 
 For to no other way can I guide thee; 
 Tis alone with disgust thou canst rightly perform 
 The acts to whi ch- duty wou ld lead thee."* 
 •Schwegler'. Hist. Phil., p. ,56. ' ' 
 
 The truth is, Kant confounds finding pleas- 
 ure in virtue with seeking virtue for the sake 
 of pleasure. The two ideas are sufficiently 
 distinct, and the former not nearly so absurd 
 as the latter. Not by any means was it im- 
 moral for one of old to say, '* I delight to do 
 thy will, O God." His cheerful obedience 
 was certainly nobler than the grudging, pain- 
 fully-rendered service of others. And what 
 shall we say of him who has lost friends, 
 fortune, health — all but virtue? Shall we 
 deny him the last and only succor — the con- 
 solation and comfort, the sustaining power 
 that it affords? 
 
 ^. Kant's system, further, is one of ab- 
 solute individualism. In the pure individual- 
 ity of his own reason, he arrogates to himself 
 the settlement of all questions of morals and 
 
 eligion, and will neither receive instruction 
 nor brook interference. Kant would have 
 every man pursue the journey of life without 
 chart, or guide, or fellowship, trusting to rea- 
 son alone. Not a ray of light must come 
 X)n his path from God, or nature, or history, or 
 experience. No cheerful song from others- 
 
 A< 
 
 .^ 
 
 / 
 
 /^ 
 
 fi 
 
94 
 
 Seneca and Ka?ii, 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 95 
 
 may gladden his ear, no song dare he sing 
 himself; in reverence and solitude must he 
 thread his way through the wilderness of life, 
 as if he were to be the first and only trav- 
 eller. 
 
 7. In this complete" individualism we find 
 also^ extreme self-sufficiency. If there is a 
 God, he is dumb or unheard. Nature reveals 
 /nothing concerning him, inspires no feelings 
 toward him: it speaks only of blind mech- 
 anism and fate. Man's origin and destiny are 
 unfathomed mysteries, left in the profoundest 
 siknce ; nor is it even hinted that the gift of 
 reason would impose certain obligations to 
 the Giver. Reason is deified, and man be- 
 comes his own god. 
 
 Far more rational was Scfileiermacher, who 
 found in man a sense of dependence on a 
 Superior Power, and made this the basis of 
 his theological system. In this feeling, he 
 declared, religion has its root. Hence spring 
 duty, conscience, obedience, prayer, trust, 
 hope, effort. Hence the need, and herein a 
 proof of revelation, with its divi7ie command 
 to love man equally, God supremely. Hence 
 
 \ 
 
 / 
 
 Si 
 
 ( 
 
 in redemption, as tne central thought of reve- 
 lation, are found those personal, animating 
 motives to a holy life, which spring from 
 Ijratitude and love, and which the cold, ab- 
 stract dictates of the reason are of themselves 
 powerless to furnish. Surely this accords 
 with our inmost experience. 
 
 8. Finally, Kant's moral system, however 
 noble and helpful in some aspects, is, in its 
 impersonality of the moral law (whose ulti- 
 mate origin who can tell?), in its placing 
 morality above religion, and in its ignoring 
 all revelation, essentially one of pure ration- 
 alism and skepticism. His rigid doctrine of 
 depravity undermines his system theoretically, 
 by taking, away its necessary support, name- 
 ly, the postulated supremacy of reason; and, 
 practically, it is ill adapted to have any power 
 over men. 
 
 It would have been exceedingly interesting, 
 if we could have had the record of Kant's inner 
 experience, and have known exactly how far 
 his doctrine consoled him. Unfortunately, the 
 evidence is somewhat conflicting. It is cer- 
 tain that he was born with a melancholy 
 
96 
 
 Seneca and Kajit. 
 
 temperament, and that he believed himself to 
 have largely subdued it by '* force of will.*' 
 He even published an essay on the power of 
 the will to effect this object. At times he was 
 remarkably cheerful and happy, exclaiming, ''Is 
 it possible to conceive any human being enjoy- 
 ing better health than I do?*' His duties to 
 his fellow-men were discharged with scrupu- 
 lous fidelity. He was generous. By nature 
 or habit he enjoyed a victory of intellect over 
 the passions that rankle in so many bosoms. . 
 
 His attitude to Scripture was not altogether 
 hostile. He quotes many of its doctrines 
 with approval, and declares the teachings of 
 the New Testament the best that the world 
 had yet seen.* But, alas! revelation was to 
 him only a system of doctrine, not a story 
 of redemption ; his supremacy of reason 
 found no room for faith, but disdained and 
 excluded it. And so faith brought him no 
 angels of mercy to soothe his parting hours. 
 He could not confide in a Savior whom he 
 rejected. He could only find a negative 
 comfort in the thought that he had never 
 
 ^Abbott's Memoir of Kant, and Dial, of Prac. Reax., pp. 335-8, with Not«* 
 
 Se7ieca and Kant, 
 
 97 
 
 consciously injured any one. The world to 
 come was an unbroken mystery, and he pro- 
 fessed an entire ignorance of what the future 
 might bring him. 
 
 It is said, indeed, that, having reached his 
 four-score years, he awaited death with resig- 
 nation, if not with welcome. On a certain 
 occasion he said, ** Gentlemen, I do not fear 
 to die. I assure you, as in the presence of 
 God, that if this very night suddenly the 
 summons to death were to reach me, I should 
 bear it with calmness, should raise my hands 
 to heaven and say, *Blessed be God!' Were 
 it indeed possible that such a whisper as this 
 could reach my ear, * Four-score years thou 
 hast lived, in which thou hast inflicted much 
 evil upon thy fellow-men,* the case would be 
 different." 
 
 But, according to others, this readiness to 
 die arose not from hope and cheerfulness, but 
 from his confessed weariness of life, and **his 
 sense of the misery and uselessness of fur- 
 ther existence."* 
 
 Even taking the most favorable view, 
 
 * Of. Abbott's Memoir, and Haven's Hist. Phil., pp. 347-353* 
 
98 
 
 Seneca and Kaiit, 
 
 Seneca and Kant. 
 
 99 
 
 we should have to say, '* Heroic utterance 
 this for a Stoic in a heathen age ! but not 
 for the philosopher of a Christian land." 
 Why self-complacently esteem a self-spun 
 system above all works of gods or men be- 
 sides? Why prefer the pale, cold light of 
 the moon to the warming, fructifying bright 
 ness of the sun ? 
 
 Reverting now to the Stoics, we must ob- 
 serve in their system, also, as in Kant's : 
 
 I. An excessive individualism. The Stoic, 
 in his seclusion, has no conscious place in 
 history ; no sympathy with his race ; scarcely 
 any with his nation. The past inspires him 
 with no veneration, the future with no hope. 
 Though surrounded by his fellow-beings, he 
 is as solitary as Crusoe, or a shipwrecked 
 mariner drifting on the ocean. 
 
 It is true that there were a few alleviations 
 to this solitude. The doctrines that he held 
 had become somewhat crystallized, so that 
 experience might in part light the way for 
 the disciple. His individualism was further 
 modified by his pantheistic views. Borne 
 along by fate, he would sooner or later sink 
 
 into the common mass of undistinguishable 
 beinjr, his identity forever lost. Foreseemg 
 //.«^ grave of his hopes, he ^ would be com- 
 pelled with his German confrere to smg: 
 
 „D^ne Suminet (c^laf 'A "«' 
 D^ne §of(nung auf}ufte^'n." * 
 
 But in spite of these modifications, his isola- 
 tion in reference to society, customs, laws, 
 traditions, history, and religion, was as com- 
 plete as Kant's. 
 
 What, now. were the consequences of t^s 
 isolation ? Evidently an offensive self-suffi- 
 ciency, a haughty egotism, a contemptuous ar- 
 rogance toward all the irrational herd, who 
 were complacently assumed to be yet under 
 the dominion of passion. There could not 
 fail to be a wide breach of feeling between 
 the two classes ; and the sage, however iso- 
 lated he in reality was. was necessarily re- 
 garded as a member of a self-constituted 
 
 aristocracy. . . 
 
 , The undue rigor of their doctrine of 
 
 apathy_SoJmport^^ 
 
 » Without grief I fall asleep. 
 
 Without hope of rising again. «i„„^ «« 
 
 -RUckert's „Die stcrbende Blume. 
 
f 
 
 \ 
 
 lOO 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 as feeling can not be wholly ignored and ob- 
 literated without disastrous results. But why 
 class all the feelings together as evil ? Root 
 out most ruthlessly envy, malice, revenge, av- 
 arice, and all their kindred; but why crush 
 love, gratitude, sympathy, and mercy? In 
 truth, amid the foes of virtue, Kant and Sen- 
 eca would sacrifice its best friends. Admitting 
 that virtue is ''conformity to right reason," 
 how can it thrive, whence its motive-power, 
 unless constantly re-enforced by the better 
 sensibilities ?* The Stoic of necessity acquir- 
 ed a harsh and repulsive character, destitute 
 of the grace and beauty of true manhood. 
 Such rigor could not but be followed by the 
 most violent reactions ; and, accordingly, the 
 grossest lewdness, and, as some allege, even 
 cannibalism were found among them. 
 
 It is in endurance and suffering that the 
 excellence of Stoicism appears. There it 
 shines resplendent, and furnishes a theme on 
 which its sages loved to dwell. Never have 
 
 •Cf. Goethe, Iphigenie auf Tauris, Act H., Sc. i. 
 mLusi und Liebe sind die Fittige 
 Zu grossen Thatcn.*' 
 
 "Pleasure and love are the pinions 
 To noble deeds." 
 
 Se7ieca afid KaJit, 
 
 lOI 
 
 the adherents of any system of philosophy 
 exhibited greater fortitude amid all sorts of 
 sufferings, national, individual, and domestic, 
 or shown more complete self-control in the 
 midst of luxurious folly, mad ambition, and 
 ungovernable avarice. This it is that has 
 made the very name of Stoicism a synonym 
 for unflinching, uncomplaining endurance. 
 
 Some have criticised their doctrine of sui- 
 cide ; and, viewed in one aspect, it is a con- 
 fession of the failure of their system. The 
 system assumes a perfectibility of character, 
 and an order of nature perfectly adapted to 
 secure this perfection ; a perfect mastery of 
 all circumstances, and a perfect tranquillity 
 resulting from this mastery. To admit the 
 necessity of suicide, therefore, is apparently 
 to deny one or other of their fundamental 
 principles. But we must remember that, with 
 the Stoic, life was not a sacred thing. It fell 
 into the common class of indifferentia, and 
 the taking of it, therefore, entailed no crime. 
 On the contrary, that act might be a virtue. 
 With this view, therefore, the Stoic preserved 
 his mastery over circumstances, and maintain- 
 
102 
 
 Seneca and Kant, 
 
 ed his tranquillity of mind by suicide. Ta 
 have remained in life would have required 
 him to forfeit these. Sad picture, alas ! even 
 though consistent, of the weakness of their 
 system. 
 
 We have seen that Stoicism is a system 
 of fatalism ; as identifying the Deity with the 
 universe, which in definite periods is absorbed 
 into his essence, it is a form of pantheism ; in 
 assertinor the underived existence of matter, 
 It exhibits one of the numerous types of ma- 
 terialism ; and in referring all doctrines to 
 reason as the ultimate standard, it is a sys- 
 tem of rationalism. It has also been called 
 the nearest approach which the pagan mind 
 has made to Christianity. We grant that 
 they have much in common. But a system 
 that allows no forgiveness of enemies ; that 
 forbids repentance for wrong ; that recognizes 
 no need of redemption, or divine aid in trial ; 
 that never rises to the conception of trust in 
 God, or communion with him, much less of 
 rejoicing in tribulation because endured in his 
 service ; that seeks in suicide a cowardly re- 
 ief from the ills of life, which, in their bitterest 
 
 Seneca una j\unt. 
 
 103 
 
 form, Christian faith has ofttimes enabled the 
 sufferer heroically and even cheerfully to en- 
 dure ; that is in its inmost essence a system 
 of selfishness ; is yet far below the benevo- 
 lence, the mercy, the loving trust, and com- 
 forting hope of the Gospel. Yet it must be 
 confessed that much that is called Christianity 
 would be greatly improved, if it had the firm 
 conviction, the fortitude, the patience, the 
 persistence of Stoicism. 
 
 We will conclude with the fitting words of 
 Sir Alexander Grant : 
 
 " The spirit of Stoicism, existing by itself, 
 is narrow and harsh ; it has too great affinity 
 to pride and egotism ; it is too repressive of 
 the spontaneous feellnj^s of art, and poetry, 
 and geniality of lif( On the other hand, it 
 is the stimulus to live above the world. 
 Hence while the bare Stoical spirit, in what- 
 ever form, produces only an imperfect and 
 repulsive character, a certain leaven of it, to 
 say the least, is necessary, else would a man 
 be wanting in all effort and aspiration of 
 mind." * 
 
 *Quotcd in Hurst & Whiting's Seneca. 
 
i 
 
 INDEX 
 
INDEX. 
 
 ',1 
 
 PAGS. 
 
 Abbott, his Kant's Ethics, cited, *-..••••••••• , 52-64, /asst'm, 
 
 Alexander the Great, •••••••••••••.••.••...15 
 
 Antisthenes, ....•«••.■•••••,••.••• ••.......la 
 
 Aristippus, ••••••.... .13 
 
 Aristotle xi, 14, 17 
 
 Bowcn, Prof. Francis, his Modern Philosophy referred to ••.... . 78 
 
 Chrysippus ••••••••.20, 27 
 
 CJccro 21, 31, 44 ; 41, 86 
 
 Cleanthes, •,»... .20 
 
 Hymn of ,..31 
 
 Coleridge, his Principles of Political Knowledge, 90, Note. 
 
 Cousin, his Lectures on the True, the Beautiful, and the Good, cited, . . 83 
 
 Demetrius, on Misfortune, 3c 
 
 De Vita Beata, De Brevitate Vitae, De Providentia, De Tranquillitate 
 
 Animi, and Epistles of Seneca, cited, 28-44 
 
 Emerson, R. W., his Conduct of Life, referred to 7a 
 
 Epictctus, , , 21 
 
 Epicurus, 18 
 
 Goethe, quoted, , ••.,••,.... 100 
 
 Grant, Sir Alex., quoted •.. 103 
 
 Greece, Condition of, at Rise of Stoicism , 15 
 
 Grundlegung zur Metaphysik der Sitten of Kant, cited, . . $2-6g, />assim. 
 
 Haven, Prof, Joseph, his History of Philosophy, quoted, . . , c 97 
 
 Heraclitus, ....ix 
 
 Hickok, Dr. L. P., his Moral Science and Rational Psychology, cited, 
 
 64, Note ; 69, Note. 
 
 Hurst & Whiting's Seneca, , 28-44, /rtxj««, 
 
 Kant, his life and character, 49, 95 ; on happiness and a good will, 52 ; on 
 
 duty, the moral law, and reverence, 25, 54, 57 ; on categorical and 
 
 hypothetical imperatives, 55 ; on holiness and happiness, 56-64 • 
 
I08 INDEX. 
 
 en legality and morality, 58; on theories of virtue, 60; gives fun- 
 damental formula of morals, 6a; on autonomy and hctcronomy, 
 63; on freedom and necessity, 64; on ethical ends, 68; his post- 
 ulates, 70; his views on religion, 71; his agreement and disa- 
 greement with Stoicism, 77; excellences of his ethical system, 
 81-83 ; defects of it, 83-95; his system compared with Christian- 
 ity, 88, 90, 91, 94, 96 ; his inner experience, 95 ; recapitulation of 
 his doctrine, 73. See, also, Stoicism. 
 
 Marcus Aurelius •* 
 
 Murtcnsen, his Christian Ethics, cited, 9* 
 
 Nero, his relations to Seneca •* 
 
 Origen, his theory of revelation, 7* 
 
 Panaetius, introduces Stoicism into Rome, ■«> 
 
 Philip of Macedon, ••••XJ 
 
 Philosophy, becomes subjective, 17; influence of times on, 13; favored 
 
 by decline of religion in Greece, *" 
 
 Plato, • II, la, 17, a« 
 
 Potter, Geschichte der Philosophie, cited, i7i 66 
 
 Porter, Pres. N., his Human Intellect 65, Note. 
 
 Pyrrho, school of • '9 
 
 Ruckert, his Die sterbende Blume, quoted 99 
 
 Schiller, cited, 9» 
 
 Schleiermacher, basis of his ethical system 94 
 
 Schwegler, his History of Philosophy, 58. 7»» 9* 
 
 Semple, J. W., his translation of Kant's Metaphysics of Ethics, 5a, 57, 59, 68 
 
 Seneca, his life, ai ; cited 7i-ii,/asstm. 
 
 Smith, Dr. Wm., quoted *' 
 
 Socrates, disciples and successors of, la, 16, x8 
 
 Sophists, the '* 
 
 Stoicism, rise of, ii-ai; its connection with Cynicism, 11-13; ^'^^ 
 Socrates, 18; general character of, as; its doctrine of physics, 
 as; its fundamental ethical principles, 26; its different defini- 
 tions of virtue, a7, 40; its fatalism, 28; makes Deity subject to 
 law, ag; teaches submission to fate, 29; its paradoxes, 34, 36,37; 
 its inherent difficulties, 34 ; its definition of the good, 35 ; makes 
 life a discipline, 35; its view of fortune, 36, 38, 43 ; of passion,' 39, 
 41 ; of suicide, 43, lof , 102 ; its definitions of pleasure, virtue, 
 and happiness, 31; spirit of its disciples, 37-40. 100; its views of 
 wealth, public life, etc., 4a ; its excellences, 100 ; its defects, 
 98.100, loa; its connection with other systems, loa; compared 
 with Christianity, xoa ; recapitulation of doctrine, 44. See, also, 
 Kant. 
 
 INDEX* 109 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 Uebcrweg, his History of Philosophy 19, 20, as, 89 
 
 Ton Kirchmann, J. H., his edition of Kant, cited, 52-69, passim, 
 
 Wuttke, his Christian Ethics, •..8a 
 
 Zeller, his Stoics, Epicureans, and Sceptics, cited, 17,30,31,40 
 
 Zcno of Cittium, 15, 19, 37; founds a Stoic school at Athens, • • . xg 
 
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