GIFT OF Isaacson "ill. The Gifford Lectures DELIVERED BEFORE THE UNIVERSITY OF GLASGOW First Series THE PROVIDENTIAL ORDER OF THE WORLD. Crown 8vo, $2.00 Second Series THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD. Crown 8vo, $2.00 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD IN ANCIENT AND MODERN THOUGHT BY ALEXANDER BALMAIN BRUCE, D.D. t^ PROFESSOR OF APOLOGETICS AND NEW TESTAMENT EXEGESIS IN THE FREE CHURCH COLLEGE, GLASGOW NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1899 TbTO :.. ./:::: : : V . v :::./ PREFACE c OUR theme is still the Providential Order. The new title, however, is used not merely to make a nominal distinction between the two courses of Lectures, but because there is a real, though slight, difference in meaning which makes the title the more appropriate to this course. A Providential Order implies a God who provides. One who speaks of a Providence is a Theist, who believes in a God caring for, and governing, all. The Moral Order, on the other hand, is impersonal, and one may use the phrase and believe in the thing it denotes, who is no Theist, no believer in a living personal God in the ordinary theistic sense of the words. Buddha, the theme of our first Lecture, is an instance. Of course this historical survey is not exhaustive. It is, however, fairly representative, and brings the whole subject, by samples, sufficiently under view to M27861 vi THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD answer the question, What have the wisest thought on the great theme of the Moral Order of the uni- verse in its reality and essential nature ? Publication of these Lectures has been delayed for a twelvemonth by the state of my health. A. B. BRUCE. GLASGOW, April 1899. CONTENTS LECTURE I PACK BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER, , . . . I LECTURE II ZOROASTER: DUALISM, 34 LECTURE III THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS : NEMESIS, . .... 66 LECTURE IV THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE, . 103 LECTURE V DIVINATION, .... 140 LECTURE VI THE HEBREW PROPHET 1 74 viii THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD LECTURE VII FACE THE BOOK OF JOB, 2O7 LECTURE VIII CHRIST'S TEACHING CONCERNING DIVINE PROVIDENCE, . 243 LECTURE IX MODERN OPTIMISM : BROWNING, ...... 279 LECTURE X MODERN DUALISM : SCIENTIFIC AND PHILOSOPHIC ASPECTS, 312 LECTURE XI MODERN DUALISM : RELIGIOUS AND SOCIAL ASPECTS, . . 346 LECTURE XII RETROSPECT AND PROSPECT, 3 80 INDEX, 4<7 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD LECTURE I BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER THE Providential Order is still our theme. Now, however, it is not to my own thoughts that I solicit attention. I ask you to engage with me in a sympa- thetic while critical study of the thoughts of other men in ancient and modern times. The subject is sufficiently large, attractive, and difficult to justify a second course. It cannot be said to be exhausted till we have made ourselves acquainted in some degree with the more important contributions to- wards its elucidation. Earnest thought on Divine Providence, however ancient, cannot but be interest- ing, and it may be instructive, not only by the abiding truth it contains, but even by its doubts, its denials, its crudities, its errors. It is obvious, how- ever, that selection will be necessary. Attention must be confined to outstanding types of thought, in which an exceptionally intense moral conscious- ness is revealed, and deep, sincere protracted brood- ing, as of men wrestling with a great hard problem. On this principle preference must be given in the A 2 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD first place to representative thinkers in India, Persia, and Greece, the countries in which, in far-past times, human reflection on the august topic of the moral order mny be said to have reached the high-water mark. In India, the centre of attraction is Buddha, with his peculiar way of viewing life and destiny ; in Persia, Zoroaster. To each of these great characters a lecture will be devoted, and in these two lectures my representation, through lack of first-hand know- ledge, must rest on the authority of experts. On the contributions of Greece we shall have to tarry longer. The Tragic Poets and the Stoics have both strong claims on our regard, the former as conspicuous assertors of the moral order, the latter as not less prominent champions of a universal Providence. With these representatives of Greek wisdom two lectures will be occupied. Our next topic will be one having no exclusive connection with Greek thought or with the Greek people, but with which the name of the Stoics is closely associated. I mean Divination. The oracles have long been dumb, and it requires an effort to revive interest in the subject. But we cannot understand the views of the ancient world without taking the belief in Divination into account. This, therefore, will form the subject of the concluding lecture on Pagan thought. Hebrew thought, on its own intrinsic merits, claims serious attention. The Prophets of Israel, as we all BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 3 know, had much to say concerning the moral govern- ment of God. The Book of Job also is a unique contribution to the discussion of the problems of Providence which cannot be overlooked. Prophetic teaching, therefore, having been disposed of, all too inadequately, in a single lecture, that book will re- ceive the consideration it claims in another. A reverent study of the teaching of Jesus on the Providence of the Divine Father in a third will close the discussion of Hebrew wisdom. The foregoing part of our programme will take up eight lectures. Three of the remaining four will be devoted to modern thought on topics bearing on our theme, while the final lecture will assume the form of a retrospect and a forecast. Modern thought is a wide word, and a point of view will be needed to guide selection. Let it be the question, What tendencies characterise those who have been anxious to abide as far as possible by the Christian idea of God ? Two broadly contrasted tendencies may be discriminated, one optimistic, the other dualistic. The one accepts without abatement Christ's idea of a Divine Father and says : All is well with the world, or is on the way to be well. The other also accepts the Christian idea of God, but, unable to take an optimistic view of the past, present, or future of the world, introduces in some form a rival to the beneficent Deity of Christian faith. Two types of modern dualism may be dis- 4 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD tinguished, one of which discovers in the world of nature traces of a personal rival to the Good Being, counter-working His beneficent purpose, while the other finds a foe of the Divine even in the reason of man. Each of these types of dualism will engage our attention in a separate lecture. The subject of the present lecture is Buddha^- and his view of the moral order of the world. Buddha was the originator of a type of religion called Buddhism, which to-day is professed in the East by one-third of the human race. He was born in India, of a royal family, in the sixth century before the Christian era. The religion of India had run through a long course of development before he arrived on the scene. There was first the religion of the Vedic Indians, a comparatively simple nature- worship, poetic in feeling, and cheerful in spirit, setting a high value on the good things of this life and making these the chief objects of prayer. Then there came ancient Brahmanism, with its pantheistic conception of the universe as an emanation out of Brahma, its view of the world as an unreality, its elaborate ritual, its asceticism, and its caste distinc- tions. This system Buddha found in vogue, and to a large extent accepted. But in some respects his attitude was protestant and reforming. He dis- carded the sacred books the Vedic hymns, he set 1 Buddha is an epithet rather than a name. Buddha's name was Gotama Sakya. BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 5 no value on sacrifice, he treated the Brahmanical gods with scant respect, and he disregarded caste, at least in the religious sphere. In his religious temper Buddha differed widely both from the Vedic Indian and from the Brahman. In the cheerfulness and the frank worldliness of the former he had no part, and in contrast to the latter he set morality above ritual. He was a pessimist in his view of life, and he assigned to the ethical supreme value. From the moment he arrived at the years of reflection, he had an acute sense of the misery of man. At length, so we learn from biogra- phical notices, a crisis arrived. One day various aspects of human suffering old age, disease, death fell under his observation, and thereafter a hermit came in view with a cheerful, peaceful aspect which greatly struck him. He was now resolved what to do. He would forsake the world and seek in solitude the peace he had hitherto failed to find. He with- drew into the wilderness, and lived a severely ascetic life, alone Sakya-muni, i.e. Sakya the lonely. Still he was not happy, nor did he attain peace till he dis- covered that the seat of evil was in the soul, and that the secret of tranquillity was to get rid of desire. This seen, Sakya-muni had become Sakya-Buddha Sakya the enlightened. Having found the way of salvation for himself, he felt impelled by sympathy with suffering humanity to make it known to others. He commenced to preach his gospel ; in technical 6 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD phrase, to turn the wheel of the law. The essence of his doctrine was summed up in four propositions : (i) Pain exists pain, the great fact of all sentient life ; (2) pain is the result of existence ; (3) the anni- hilation of pain is possible ; (4) the way to the desired end is self-mortification, renunciation of the world both outwardly and inwardly. All who were willing to receive this message, of whatever caste or char- acter, were welcome to the ranks of discipleship. Discipleship in the strict sense meant not merely a pure life, but an ascetic habit in the solitude of the forest or in the still retreat of the monastery. From being a few, disciples grew to be many through the missionary ardour of converts, till at length the sombre faith of the Buddha became one of the great religions of the world. On that account alone, if for no other, Buddhism would be entitled to some notice in even a short study of the thoughts of men on the moral order of the world, unless indeed it should turn out that so widely diffused a religion had nothing to say on the subject. That, however, is so far from being the case that few religions have anything more remark- able to say. For Buddhism, true to the spirit of the founder, is an ethical religion. It finds in moral good the cure of physical evil, and in moral evil the cause of physical evil. It asserts with unique em- phasis a moral order as distinct from a providential order, the difference being that a moral order is an BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 7 impersonal conception, while a providential order implies a Divine Being who exercises a providential oversight over the world. Even an atheist, like Strauss, can believe in a moral order, but only a theist can believe in a Providence. Buddha taught no doctrine either of creation or of providence, or even of God. He was not an atheist. He did not deny the being of God, or of the gods of ancient India, poetically praised in the hymns of Vedic bards and elaborately worshipped in Brahmanical ritual. He treated these gods somewhat as the Hebrew worshippers of Jehovah treated the deities of other peoples, allowing them to remain as part of the universe of being, while refusing to acknowledge them as exceptional or unique in nature, dignity, or destiny. It is characteristic of the Buddhist system to treat the gods in this cavalier fashion and to re- gard them as inferior to Buddha. When Buddha summons them into his presence they come ; they listen reverently to his words, and humbly obey his behests. Yet Buddha is but a man, though more than divine in honour. Buddhism, it has been re- marked, is the only religion in which the superiority of man over the gods is proclaimed as a fundamental article of faith. 1 That the destinies of the world should be in the hands of such degraded and dis- honoured beings is of course out of the question. Equally out of the question is it that one who 1 Koeppen, Die Religion des Buddha und ihre Entstehung, p. 123. 8 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD viewed human life as Buddha viewed it could pos- sibly believe in a benignant Providence. Buddha's idea of life, according to all reliable accounts, was purely pessimistic. For him the great fact of life was pain, misery, and the four chief lessons to be learnt about life were that pain exists and why, that it can be put an end to and how. Birth, growth, disease, decay, death behold the sorrowful series of events which make life a mere vanity and vexation of spirit. Such is it as we see it, such it has ever been, such it ever shall be. The process of the whole universe is an eternal, monotonous, wearisome suc- cession of changes, an everlasting becoming. No- thing abides, for all is composite, and all that is composite is impermanent. And the best thing that can happen to a man is to be dissolved body and soul, and so find rest among the things that are not. While knowing nothing of a Divine Providence in our sense of the word, the religion of Buddha is honourably distinguished by its emphatic assertion of a moral order of the world. The moral order is the great fact for the Buddhist. It is the source of the physical order. Moral facts explain the facts of human experience. Wrong action is the cause of sorrow, not only in general and on the whole, but in detail and exhaustively. What a man does or has done sometime or other, explains completely what he suffers. I say 'has done, sometime or other/ BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 9 because perfect correspondence between conduct and lot is not held to be verifiable within the bounds of this present life. Buddha was fully aware of the lack of correspondence as exhibited in many startling contrasts of good men suffering and bad men pros- pering. But he did not thence conclude that life was a moral chaos, or that there was no law connecting lot with conduct. He simply inferred that to find the key to life's puzzles you must go beyond the bounds of the present life and postulate past lives, not one or two, but myriads, an eternal succession of lives if necessary, each life in the series being deter- mined in its complex experience by all that went before ; the very fact that there is such a life at all that we are born once more, being due to evil done in former lives. This conception of successive lives is so foreign to our modes of thought that it may be well to dwell on it a little. Buddha did not invent the doctrine of trans- migration ; he inherited it from the pre-existing Brahmanical religion. How it came to be there, seeing there is no trace of it in the Vedic hymns, is a question which very naturally suggests itself. Students of Indian religions have found the ex- planation, both of this theory and of the pessimistic conception of human life associated with it, in the Brahmanical view of God's relation to the world, according to which all being flows out of Brahma io THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD by way of emanation. 1 Anthropologists prefer to see in the Indian idea a special form of a more general primitive belief having its fact-basis in observed resemblances between ancestors and de- scendants, and between men and beasts, natvely accounted for by primitive men as due to the souls of ancestors passing into children, and of men into beasts. In higher levels of culture, as in India, they see this crude physical theory invested with ethical significance, so that ' successive births or existences are believed to carry on the consequences of past and prepare the antecedents of future life.' 2 What amount of truth may be in these hypotheses it is not necessary here to inquire. What we are concerned with is the relation of Buddha to the doctrine in question. Now at first it may seem strange that one who discarded the traditional theory of the emanation of the world out of Brahma did not also part with the kindred theory of trans- migration. But on reflection we see that, while the latter theory might have no attraction for Buddha, as forming part of a merely speculative conception of the universe, it might be very welcome to him on moral grounds. This is indeed so much the case that, had he not found the theory ready to his hand, he would have had to invent it as a postulate of his ethical creed, which maintained without qualification 1 So e.g. Koeppen, p. 33. Vide Tylor, Primitive Culture, u. pp. 3 and 9. 'BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER n that men reap as they sow. That thesis is not veri- fiable within the bounds of the present life, at least not in a sense that would have seemed satisfactory to Buddha. You must go beyond, either forward or backward. Christians go forward, and seek in a future life a solution of the mysteries of the present. Buddha went both forward and backward, and more especially backward ; and with characteristic thorough- ness he gave to the hypothesis of transmigration, in an ethical interest, a very comprehensive sweep, making the range of migration stretch downwards 'from gods and saints, through holy ascetics, Brahmans, nymphs, kings, counsellors, to actors, drunkards, birds, dancers, cheats, elephants, horses, Sudras, barbarians, wild beasts, snakes, worms, in- sects, and inert things.' 1 The application of the doctrine, in the Buddhistic system, is as minute as it is wide. For everything that happens to a man in this life an explanation is sought in some deed done in a former life. Character and lot are not viewed, each, as a whole, but every single deed and experience is taken by itself, and the law of recompense applied to it. The Buddhist Birth Stories, the oldest collection of folk-lore, contain curious illustrations of this habit of thought. One story tells how once upon a time a Brahman was about to kill a goat for a feast, how the intended victim had once itself been a 1 Tylor, ii. p. 9. 12 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD Brahman and for killing a goat for a feast had had its head cut off in five hundred births, and how it warned the Brahman that if he killed it he in turn would incur the misery of having his head cut off five hundred times. The moral is given in this homely stanza : * If people would but understand That this would cause a birth in woe, The living would not slay the living ; For he who taketh life shall surely grieve.' 1 A less grotesque instance is supplied in the pathetic history of Kunala, a son of the famous King Asoka, the Constantine of Buddhism, related at length by Burnouf in his admirable Introduction to the History of Indian Buddhism. Kunala had beautiful eyes, which awakened sinful desire in a woman who, like his mother, was one of Asoka's wives. Repulsed, she conceived the wicked design of destroying his beauty by putting out his eyes, and carried out her purpose on the first opportunity. From our point of view this was a case of innocence suffering at the hands of the unrighteous, an Indian Joseph victimised by an Indian Potiphar's wife. But this did not content the Buddhist. He asked what had Kunala done in a previous life to deserve such a fate, and he received from his teacher the reply : Once upon a time, in a previous life, Kunala was a huntsman. Coming upon a herd of five 1 Rhys Davids, Buddhist Birth Stories, or J&taka Tales, No. 1 8. BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 13 hundred gazelles in a cavern he put out the eyes of them all. For that action he suffered the pains of hell for many hundred thousand years, and there- after had his eyes put out five hundred times in as many human lives. 1 Buddha had to go forward as well as backward in order to give full validity to his austere conception of the moral order. As in this life men enjoy and surfer for the good or evil done in former lives, so, he taught, must there be suffering and enjoyment in some future life or world for corresponding deeds done here. For the expression ' good or evil done ' Buddhism has one word, * Karma.' It will be con- venient to use it for the longer phrase, as denoting merit and demerit, or character. The Buddhistic doctrine then is that the Karma of this life demands a future life, as this life presupposes and answers to the Karma of past lives. A * future life,' I have said ; by which we should, of course, understand our own life, implying personal identity, continuity of the soul's existence. Experts, however, are agreed that that is not the genuine thought of Buddhists. The soul for them is only a bundle of mental states without any substratum ; therefore, like all com- posites, dissoluble and impermanent. Therefore, 1 Burnouf, Introduction h FHistoire du Buddhisme Indien, pp. 360- 370. The hunter put out their eyes instead of killing them because he would not know what to do with so much dead meat. The blinded animals would not be able to escape, and could be killed at con- venience. 14 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD though in popular conception transmigration means transmigration of the soul, for the disciple of Buddha it means transmigration of Karma, that is, of char- acter. Mr. Rhys Davids, one of the best informed of our authorities, expresses this view in these terms: ' I have no hesitation in maintaining that Gotama did not teach the transmigration of souls. What he did teach would be better summarised, if we wish to retain the word transmigration, as the transmigration of character. But it would be more accurate to drop the word transmigration altogether when speaking of Buddhism, and to call its doctrine the doctrine of Karma. Gotama held that, after the death of any being, whether human or not, there survived nothing at all but that being's Karma, the result, that is, of its mental and bodily actions.' 1 This transmigration or survival of character appears to us a very strange idea, but as Mr. Huxley has remarked, 2 something analogous to it may be found in the more familiar fact of heredity, the trans- mission from parents to offspring of tendencies to particular ways of acting. Heredity helps to make the idea of transmitted Karma more intelligible, and at the same time enables us in some degree to get over the feeling of its objectionableness on the score of morality. On first view, it seems an outrage on justice that my Karma should be handed on to 1 The Hibbert Lectures, 1881, p. 92. 1 Evolution and Ethics, p. 6l. BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 15 another person that he may bear the consequences of what I have done. If my soul survived death and passed into another form of incorporated life in which I, the same person, reaped the harvest of what I had sown in a previous life, no such objection would arise. But how, one is inclined to ask, can it serve the ends of the moral order, that one should sow in conduct what another reaps in experience? It is a very natural question, yet the thing com- plained of is essentially involved in moral heredity. Whether we like it or not, and whatever construction is to be put upon it, it is certainly an actual fact of the moral world. While an analogy, instructive in some respects, exists between heredity and Karma, it would be a mistake to identify them. Heredity operates within the same species, every animal producing its kind ; Karma roams through all species of animated being, so that the Karma of a man living now may be handed on some day to an elephant, a horse, or a dog. Heredity is transmitted by generation ; according to the developed ontology of Buddhism Karma can work without the aid of a material instrumentality. 1 Heredity asserts its power in spite of great moral changes in the individual who transmits his qualities to his offspring. A saintly father who, by self-dis- cipline, has gained victory over evil propensity may transmit, nevertheless, an inheritance of evil bias to 1 Hardy, A Manual of Buddhism in its Mode rn Development^ p. 395.- t6 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD his children. A Buddhist Arahat who, by sublime virtue, has attained Nirvana, escapes from the sway of the Karma law, and, though he may leave behind him a family born before he retired into the monastic life, he has no successor who takes upon him his moral responsibilities. Finally, in heredity the pecu- liarity of both parents, not to speak of atavistic or collateral contributions, are mixed in the char- acter of offspring. Karma, on the other hand, is, as I understand, an isolated entity. Each man has his own Karma, which demands embodiment in an independent life for the working out of its moral results. Karma then demands another life to bear its fruit. But how is the demand supplied ? Now we know how Kant answered an analogous question, viz. : How is the correspondence between character and lot that which ought to be and therefore sometime shall be to be brought about? Only, said Kant, through the power of a Being who is head both of the physical and of the moral universe God, a necessary postulate of the practical reason, or conscience. But in Buddha's system there was no god with such powers. The gods, in his view, far from being able to order all things so as to meet the requirements of Karma, were themselves subject to its sway. How then are these requirements to be met ? The answer must be, that Buddhism assigns to Karma the force of physical causation. The moral postulate is turned into a BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 17 natural cause. The moral demand literally creates the needful supply. Karma becomes a substitute for Kant's Deity. Similar confusion runs through the whole system. Another source of the endless succession of exist- ence must now be mentioned. It is Desire, the will to live. Desire for life originates new life. This Buddhistic tenet is a new form of the old Brah- manical account of the origin of the world, based on a hymn in the tenth book of the Rig-veda, where we find the theory that the universe originated in Desire na'fvely hinted in the following lines : 'The One breathed calmly, self-sustained, nought else beyond it lay. Gloom hid in gloom existed first one sea, eluding view, That One, a void in chaos wrapt, by inward fervour grew. Within it first arose Desire, the primal germ of mind, Which nothing with existence links, as sages searching find.' 1 The only difference between Brahmanism and Buddhism here is that in the former the desire which sets in motion the stream of existence is in Brahma, in the latter it is in individual sentient beings, the cosmological and pantheistic significance of the Brahmanical dogma being translated into an anthropological and ethical one. 2 How desire, either in Brahma or in the individual man, could have such power is, of course, an unfathomable mystery. Most 1 Muir, Sanskrit Texts, vol. v. p. 356. 2 Koeppen, Die Religion des Buddha, p. 294. 6 i8 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD of us, I suspect, will agree with Mr. Rhys Davids when he bluntly declares that Buddha attached to desire, as a real, sober fact, an influence and a power which has no actual existence. 1 But suppose we concede to desire all the power claimed for it, this question arises : Might it not be possible to give transmigration the slip, to break the continuity of existence, to annul the inexorable law of Karma, by ceasing from desire? Yes, joyfully, ecstatically, answered Buddha ; and the reply is in brief the gist of the complementary doctrine of Nirvana. Karma and Nirvana are the great key- words of Buddhism. They represent opposite, con- flicting tendencies. Karma clamours for continuance of being, Nirvana craves and works for its cessation. There is, as all must see, an antinomy here. Why should we cease to desire, if continuance of the stream of being is demanded by Karma? What higher interest can there be than that of the moral order? Ought not good men rather to cling to life for the very purpose of providing scope for the dis- play of that order? The precise meaning attached by Buddhists to the term 'Nirvana' has been the subject of much dis- cussion. Some have taken it as signifying the annihilation of the soul, while others have assigned to it the directly opposite sense of a perpetuated life of the soul in a future state of bliss. The former of 1 Hibbert Lectures, p. 113. BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 19 these views can hardly be correct, seeing the cessa- tion of soul-life takes place at death in the natural course of things, whereas Nirvana, whatever it be, is attained by moral effort. The latter view, while not without support in popular Buddhistic conceptions, is not in accordance with the genius of the system. Nirvana is, in the first place, a state of mind attain- able in this life, the cessation of desire rather than of existence. According to Mr. Rhys Davids, the nearest analogue to it in Western thought is 'the kingdom of heaven that is within a man, the peace that passeth understanding.' l But this inward con- dition reached by the perfect man, the arahat, has an important objective result. It suspends the action of the law of Karma, breaks the chain of successive existence, prevents another life, bearing its prede- cessor's responsibilities, from coming into being. In the words of Mr. Davids, * When the arahat, the man made perfect, according to the Buddhist faith, ceases to live, no new lamp, no new sentient being, will be lighted by the flame of any weak or ignorant longing entertained by him.' 2 It is another instance of the Buddhist habit of turning moral postulates into physical causes. Our first example was taken from Karma. Karma demands another life to bear its fruit ; therefore, according to Buddhist ways of think- ing, it produces the life required. Even so with Nirvana. It demands the suspension of the law of 1 Hibbert Lectures > p. 31. a Ibid. t p. 101. 20 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD Karma, therefore it ensures it Hence, if all men were to become Arahats and attain Nirvana, the result ought to be the eventual extinction of ani- mated being. Other illustrations of the same mental habit are not wanting. The marvellous abstraction called Karma not only creates a succession of individual lives, but even a succession of worlds wherein to work out adequately the great problem of moral retribution. The cosmology of developed Buddhism is a grotesque, mad-looking scheme. But there is method in the madness. It is the moral interest that reigns here as everywhere, which, once it is per- ceived, redeems from utter dreariness pages concern- ing innumerable worlds in space and time that seem to contain but the idle dreams of an unbridled, fantastic Eastern imagination. For that which gives rise to the whole phantasmagory is the need of end- less time to exhaust the results of Karma. The fruit of an action does not necessarily ripen soon ; it may take hundreds of thousands of Kalpas to mature. What is a Kalpa? A great Kalpa is the period beginning with the origin of a world and extending beyond its dissolution to the commencement of a new succeeding world. This great Kalpa is divisible into four Kalpas, each representing a stage in the cosmic process of origination and dissolution. The four together cover a time of inconceivable length, immeasurably longer than would be the time required BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 21 to wear away by the touch of a cloth of delicate texture, once in a hundred years, a solid rock sixteen miles broad and as many high. Yet, long as is the period of a great Kalpa, it may require many such to bring to maturity the fruit of an action done by a man during his earthly life of three-score years and ten. Therefore, as one world does not last long enough for the purpose, there must be a succession of worlds. Karma demands them, therefore Karma creates them. The Fiat of almighty Karma goes forth : Let there be worlds ; and world after world starts into being in obedience to its behest. Worlds exist only for moral ends to afford adequate scope for the realisation of the moral order. There is something sublime as well as grotesque in this cosmological creation of the Buddhist con- science. And one cannot but admire the moral intensity which conceived it possible for an action, good or evil, to be quickened into fruitfulness after the lapse of millions on millions of years, during which it lay dormant. This long delay of the moral harvest gives rise to a curious anomaly in the Buddhist theory of future rewards and punishments. It is this : men who have lived good lives in this world may go at death into a place of damnation, and men who have lived here bad lives may pass into the heaven of the gods. The damnation in the one case is the late fruitage of some evil deed done in long bygone ages, and the bliss, in the other, the 22 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD tardy recompense of a good deed done in a previous state of existence. This seems a perilous doctrine to preach, presenting as it does to the hopes and fears of men prospects for the near future which appear like a reversal of the normal law of retribu- tion. Thus far of Karma and Nirvana. I now add a brief statement on Buddhist conceptions concerning the experience and functions of a Buddha. In view of the infinitely slow action of the law of retribution and the strangely incongruous experiences of intermediate states, one can imagine what an interminably long and endlessly varied career one must pass through whose ultimate destiny it is to become a Buddha one, that is, perfectly enlightened, completely master of desire, sinless, and no more in danger of sinning. One wonders, indeed, how there ever could be such a being. The Buddhist creed certainly cannot be charged with representing the making of a Buddha as an easy thing. On the con- trary, he is believed to have passed through many existences under many forms of being, and in various states of being : now an animal, then a man, then a god ; at one time damned, at another time beatified ; in one life virtuous, in another criminal ; but on the whole moving on, slowly accumulating merits which are eventually crowned with the honours of Buddha- hood. 1 1 Burnouf, Introduction, etc., p. 120. BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 23 One who has passed through such an adventurous history, and has at length arrived safely at the goal of perfect wisdom and goodness, must be a very valuable person when he comes into a world like this, full of ignorance, misery, and sin. What will be his function? What can he do for the race into which he has been born ? For the Buddhist there is only one possible vocation for a Buddha. He cannot save men by vicarious goodness or suffering. Every man must be his own saviour, working out his salva- tion, as Buddha worked out his, through the ages and worlds, through beasthood, godhood, devilhood, to perfect manhood in some far-distant future aeon. But a Buddha can tell men the way of self-salvation. He can preach to them the gospel of despair, declar- ing that life is not worth living, that birth is the penalty of previous sin, that the peace of Nirvana is to be reached by the extirpation of the will to live, and by gentle compassion towards all living creatures. This was how Gotama, the Buddha who was born in India some six centuries before the Christian era, occupied himself, after he became enlightened ; and such must be the vocation of all possible Buddhas. Of all possible Buddhas, I say, for to the followers of Gotama a plurality of Buddhas is not only possible but even necessary. Buddhist imagination has been busy here, as in the manufacture of worlds. The Christian knows of only one Christ, but the Buddhist knows of many Buddhas. The Buddhists of the 24 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD North, according to Burnouf, believing in an infini- tude of worlds situated in ten regions of space, believe also in an infinite number of Buddhas, or candidates for the honour, co-existing at the same time. The popular pantheon includes two kinds of Buddhas : a human species, and another described as immaterial Buddhas of contemplation. The theistic school of Nepaul has an Ur-Buddha, a kind of divine head of all the Buddhas. But, according to the same distinguished authority from whom I have taken these particulars, primitive Buddhism, as set forth in the short, simple Sutras, knows only of human Buddhas, and of only one Buddha living in the world at the same time. 1 Faith in a succession of Buddhas seems to be common to all Buddhistic schools. This faith has no basis in historical knowledge : it is simply the creature of theory. If asked to justify itself it might advance three pleas : possibility, need, necessity. Possibility, for it is always possible that in the long course of ages a man should make his appearance who has attained the virtue of Buddhahood. One actual Buddha proves the possibility of others. Looking at the matter a priori, one might be inclined to doubt whether in the eternal succession of exist- ence even so much as one Buddha could ever appear. A candidate for the high distinction (called a Bodhisat) must become a proficient in the six great 1 Burnouf, Introduction^ pp. 97-107. BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 25 virtues ' which conduct to the further shore ' : sym- pathy, purity, patience, energy, contemplation, wisdom. One can imagine a human being working at the heroic task in his own person, or through the successive inheritors of his Karma, during countless aeons, in millions of existences, and after all failing in the task. The chances are millions to one against its ever being achieved. But then Gotama was a Buddha, and in presence of that one fact all a priori reasoning falls to the ground. The thing has happened once, and it may happen again and again. And it is very desirable that it should happen repeatedly. Need justifies faith. How important that in each new world as it arises a Buddha should appear to set the wheel of doctrine in motion, to unfold the banner of the good law, and so inaugurate a new era of revelation and redemption ! It is abstractly possible, of course, that no Buddha might come just when one was most wanted, or that a Buddha might arrive on the scene when there was no urgent need for him, or that a multitudinous epiphany of Buddhas might take place at the same time ; for the Buddhist theory of the universe knows of no Providence over all that can arrange for the appearance on the scene of its elect agents when their work is ready for them, and so plan that there shall be no waste of power. But even a Buddhist may hope that the fitness of things will somehow be observed ; and for the rest the imperious demands of 26 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD theory must be complied with. The way to Nirvana must be shown to the blind, and the competent leader must be forthcoming. Stat pro ratione voluntas. But why cannot the one historic Buddha who was born in Kapilavastu in the sixth century before Christ meet all requirements ? Well, for one reason, be- coming, succession, is the supreme cosmological category of Buddhism, and it is not surprising that, in sympathy with the spirit of the system, the category was applied also to Buddhahood. There is an eternal succession of Kalpas, of destructions and renovations of worlds ; why not also an unending series of Buddhas ? But, granting that a succession of Buddha-advents is required by the genius of the system, why should it not be simply a series of re-appearances on the part of one and the same Buddha? Because all things in this universe are impermanent, Buddhas not excepted ; nay, they more than all, for existence is a curse, and it is the privilege of a Buddha to escape from it absolutely, his own candle of life going out, and not lighting, by his Karma, the lamp of a new life in another. Gotama is to-day only a memory, and nothing re- mains of him for his disciples to worship except his bones scattered here and there over the lands. This series of Buddhas, as already stated, is simply the creature of theory. Once more a moral postulate is turned into an efficient cause. Buddhas are BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 27 needed at recurrent intervals, therefore Buddhas are forthcoming in spite of antecedent improbabilities. Of these Buddhas, countless in number, nothing is known, save in the case of one. Pretended know- ledge simply makes the careers of all the rest a fac- simile of the career of that one. All are born in middle-India ; their mothers die on the seventh day after birth ; all are in similar way tempted by Mara, and gain victory over the tempter ; all begin to turn the wheel of the law in a wood, near the city of Benares ; all have two favourite disciples, and so on. The story of these imaginary Buddhas is evermore but the monotonous repetition of the legendary history of Gotama. In proceeding to offer some critical observations on the Buddhist conception of life and of the moral order, I must begin with the remark that the great outstanding merit of this religion is its intensely ethical spirit. In Buddhism virtue, in the Indian passive sense self-sacrifice, sympathy, meekness is supreme. It was indeed characteristic of ancient Indian religion under all forms to assign sovereign value and power to virtue in some shape. Even in the Veda, with all its naturalism, and its secular con- ception of the summum bonum> prayer, penitence, sanctity, wisdom, are represented as more powerful than the gods, as making men gods. But Buddhism rises to the purest conception of what virtue is, 28 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD making it consist, not in meditation or self-torture, or work-holiness, but in inward purity and the utter uprooting of selfish desire. And, in opposition to Brahmanism, the new religion showed the sincerity and depth of its ethical spirit by treating caste dis- tinctions as of subordinate importance compared with ethical qualities. It did not meddle with caste as a social institution, but it treated it as irrelevant in the religious sphere. It invited all, of whatever caste, to enter on the new path, believing all capable of com- plying with its requirements ; and in the new brother- hood all invidious distinctions were ignored. 'My law is a law of grace for all,' Buddha is reported to have said. Whether he uttered it or not, the saying truly reflects his attitude and the genius of his religion. It is in principle revolutionary, and, had the virtue of Buddhists not been of the quietistic type, treating all secularities as matters of indiffer- ence, it might have ended in the abolition of caste, as the Christian faith led to the eventual abolition of slavery. One wonders why a moral consciousness so robust did not give birth to a reformed faith in God and in Providence. We have seen what it was equal to in connection with the doctrine of Karma. To Karma it assigned the functions both of creation and of providence. Karma is in fact a substitute for God. By the aggregate Karma of the various orders of living beings the present worlds were brought into BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 29 existence, and their general economy is controlled. Karma creates and governs the world, because it postulates a world adapted to the working out of its requirements. Why not rather believe in a God who is at the head both of the physical and the moral worlds, and therefore able to make the two correspond? That surely is the true postulate of every system which makes the ethical supreme. Its failure to see this is the radical defect of the Buddhistic theory of the universe. The failure was due to two causes. First, the traditional gods of India were unworthy to hold their place in the faith and worship of men. When a severe moral temper began to prevail, sceptical reaction was inevitable. Reaction towards atheism is to be expected whenever a religious creed has degenerated into a set of dogmas in which the human spirit cannot rest ; or when a creed, in itself pure, has become associated with an ignoble life. And a virtuous atheism of reaction is a better thing than the unvirtuous insincere theism or pantheism it seeks to replace. Buddhism was a virtuous atheism of reaction which sought /to replace the prevalent Brahmanical pantheism. And as such it was rela- tively justified, a better thing than it found, if not an absolutely good thing. But why remain in the reactionary stage? why not strive after a reformed idea of God ? Why not go back to the Vedic idea of a Heaven-Father, 30 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD Dyauspitar, and charge it with new, ethical contents, so giving to the world centuries before the Christian era a Father in heaven, possessing moral attributes such as Buddha admired and practised benignant, kind, gracious, patient, forgiving ? The question leads up to the second cause of Buddha's theological short- coming. It was due to his pessimistic interpretation of human life. Life being utterly worthless, how could a Father-God be believed in? Buddha's ethical ideal and his reading of life were thus in conflict with each other. The one suggested as its appropriate complement a benignant God over all ; the other made the existence of such a Deity in- credible : and the force on the side of negation proved to be the stronger. And yet the judgment on life which landed in virtual atheism was surely a mistake. All is not vanity and vexation of spirit. ' The earth is full of the goodness of the Lord,' declares a Hebrew psalmist. Why should Hebrews and Indians think so differently, living in the same world and passing through the same experiences of birth, growth, disease, decay, death? Do race, tempera- ment, climate, geographical position, explain the contrast ? Out of this great error concerning life sprang an- other equally portentous, the idea of Nirvana as the summum bonum. Life, taught Buddha, is inherently miserable ; therefore let wise men cease to desire it, and abstain from kindling with the taper of Karma BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 31 the light of another life. Perfectly logical reasoning; but observe in what an antinomy the Buddhist is thus landed between Karma on the one hand and Nirvana on the other. Karma and Nirvana are irreconcilable antagonists. The one creates, the other destroys, worlds. Let Karma have its way, and the stream of successive existences will flow on for ever. Let Nirvana have its way, and men will cease to be, and the worlds will perish along with them. It is a dualism in its kind, as decided as that pre- sented in the Persian religion, but with this difference: the Persian twin spirits are opposite in character, the one good, the other evil ; the Indian antagonists, on the other hand, are both good, Karma represent- ing the moral order, righteousness, Nirvana, the summum bonum. It is a fatal thing when these two come into collision. The Buddhist conception of Karma is as fantastic as its doctrine of Nirvana is morbid. Its atomistic idea of merit and demerit, as adhering to individual acts instead of to conduct as a whole, destroys the unity of character; and its' theory of indefinitely delayed retribution is as baseless as it is mischievous in tendency. The resulting view of the world- process presents the spectacle of a moral chaos rather than a broad intelligible embodiment of sowing and reaping in the moral universe. It is unnecessary to point out how entirely diverse the world-process of Buddhist ethical theory is from that implied in the 32 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD modern theory of evolution. In the evolutionary theory the world moves steadily onward from lower to higher forms of life till it culminates in man. On the Buddhist theory the universe is turned topsy- turvy. The higher may come before the lower, according to the requirements of the law of Karma. Man comes first of all, not at the end of the evolu- tionary process, as its crown and climax ; for moral acts are the prius and cause of physical creation. There had been no world unless man, with his merit and demerit, had previously been. Under the modern conception physical causality and moral aims have their distinct value, under law to a supreme Cause who controls all, and makes the two worlds work in concert. Under the Buddhist conception physical causation counts for nothing ; moral requirements alone find recognition : and the result is a fantastic see-saw, a wild fluctuation in the history of moral agents who may be gods at one time, men at another, beasts at a still later stage of their existence. Yet, in spite of all its defects, theoretical and practical, the religious movement originated by Buddha may be numbered among the forces which have contributed in a signal degree to the moral amelioration of the world. Its ethical idea, if one- sided, is pure and elevated. It has helped millions to live sweet, peaceful lives in retirement from the world, if it has not nerved men to play the part of heroes in the world. It has soothed the pain of BUDDHA AND THE MORAL ORDER 33 despair, if it has not inspired hope, and has thus, as Bunsen remarks, produced the effect of a mild dose of opium on the tribes of weary-hearted Asia. 1 This is all it is fitted to do, even at the best. The Buddhism even of Buddha was at most but an anodyne, sickly in temper while morally pure. The sickliness has been a more constant characteristic of the religion he founded than the purity. It has entered into many combinations which have marred its beauty, not even shrinking from alliance with the obscenities of Siva-worship. 2 But no religion can afford to be judged by all the , phases it has passed through in the course of its development. Let us therefore take Buddhism at its best and think of it as kindly as possible. But what it gives is not enough. Men need more than a quietive, a sooth- ing potion ; militant virtues as well as meekness, gentleness, and resignation. The well-being of the world demands warriors brave in the battle against evil, not monks immured in cloisters, and passing their lives in poverty and idleness, wearing the yellow robe of a mendicant order. 1 Vide his God in History ; vol. i. p. 375. 1 Vide on this Burnouf's Introduction^ pp. 480-488. LECTURE II ZOROASTER: DUALISM THE date of Zoroaster is very uncertain. Con- jecture ranges over more than a thousand years, some making the prophet of the ancient Persians a contemporary of Abraham, while others bring him down as far as Hystaspes, the father of Darius I., i.e. to the sixth century B.C. The translator of the Gathas, in the Sacred Books of the East, Mr. Mills, thinks that these poems, the oldest part of the Avesta, and believed to be from the mind if not from the hand of Zoroaster, may possibly have been composed as early as about 1500 B.C.; but that it is also possible to place them as late as 900 to 1200 B.C. 1 Taking the latest of these dates, the ninth century before the Christian era, as the period in which Zoroaster, or as he is now called, Zarathustra, made his appearance, it results that the man who is known to all the world as the promulgator of the dualistic theory preceded Buddha by three hundred years. If it had been necessary to be guided supremely by chronological 1 Vide the Introduction, p. xxxvii. ZOROASTER: DUALISM 35 considerations he should, therefore, have come first in our course. But for our purpose it does not greatly matter which of the two religious initiators has the honour of the first place. The movements they inaugurated are independent products of human thought brooding on the phenomena of life, proceed- ing from minds differently constituted and influenced by diverse environments. The two men, however, were connected by very important links. They were kindred in race and in language, and they had a common religious in- heritance. Indians and Persians were both of the Aryan stock. Their fathers lived together at a far-back time in the region north of Hindostan, whence they are believed to have migrated in two streams, one flowing southwards through the moun- tains towards India and the other westward towards Eastern Persia. Some time ago the theory was held that the separation was due to a religious rupture. The hypothesis was built on the facts that certain gods of the Vedic Pantheon appear degraded to the rank of demons in the Persian Sacred Book, the Avesta, and that the very name for a god in the Vedic dialect (devd) is, under a slightly altered form (daeva), in that book the name for a demon. It seemed a not improbable inference that the Zoroastrian movement was of the nature of a religious revolt which threw con- tempt on the common deities of the Indo-Iraniah 36 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD family. 1 Recent scholars reject this theory and invert the relation between geographical separation and religious divergence. Mr. Mills expresses the view now in favour in these terms : * No sudden and intentional dismissal of the ancient gods is to be accepted with Haug, nor any religious schism as the cause of the migration of the Indians towards the south. The process was, of course, the reverse. The migrating tribes, in consequence of their separa- tion from their brethren in Iran, soon became estranged from them, and their most favoured gods fell slowly into neglect, if not disfavour.' 2 Whatever the cause of religious diversity may have been, there is no room for doubt as to its existence. The religious temper revealed in the Gathas is widely different from that of the Vedic hymns, and still more from that of Buddha. The Vedic religion, as we saw, is a kind of healthy, cheerful, poetic naturalism, of which the beautiful hymns to the dawn (Ushas) may be taken as the typical expression. The Vedic worshipper cherishes no lofty conception of the highest good, nor does he brood too much on the sorrows of life and on its dark end in death. He seeks chiefly material things in his prayers, enjoys life cheerily while he may, and thinks of death as a sleep, without 1 So Haug, Die Gdthas des Zarathustra. On his view vide Dar- mesteter, Onnuzd et Ahriman, p. 261 /. 2 Introduction to translation of the Gathas, p. xxxvi. ZOROASTER: DUALISM 37 fear of aught beyond. By Buddha's time the Indian mind has made an immense advance in moral earnestness. Life now means much more than meat and drink ; man's chief end is not to be happy, but to be good ; sin and sorrow, the very occasional themes of reflection in the Veda, now monopolise attention. But the animal vigour and healthy energy of the Vedic Indian are gone, and in their place have come quietism and despair. The religion of the Gathas sympathises with the moral intensity of Buddha as against the easy-going ways of the Vedic Indians; but, on the other hand, it is in touch with the manliness of the earlier phase of Indian character, as opposed to the sickly life-weary spirit of the later. There is a fervid spirituality pervading the Githas which reminds one of the Hebrew Psalter. The moral world, not the material, is what the seer has mainly in view. Of the Pagan enjoyment of nature, as it appeals to the senses, there is little trace. We find there nothing corre- sponding to the Ushas-group of hymns. Natural objects are seldom referred to, and never alone, or as the supreme objects of interest. When the Good Spirit is praised as the Maker of heaven and earth and all things therein : sun, moon, and stars, clouds, winds, waters, plants, He is also praised as inspirer of good thoughts. 1 The summum 1 Mills' translation of the Gathas, p. 113. 38 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD bonum for the poet of the Gathas is the Kingdom of righteousness ; fields, crops, flocks, have only the second place in his thoughts. On the other hand, the morality of the Gathas, unlike that of Buddhism, is virile, militant. It is a fight for the good against evil with all available weapons, material ones not excepted. The Zoro- astrian has no idea of retiring from the world into a monastery, to give himself up to meditation on the vanity of things, and to that extirpation of desire which issues in Nirvana. His aim is to do his part manfully in the work of the world, tilling the fields, tending the flocks ; and for the rest to fight to the death men of evil minds and evil lives whenever he encounters them. Compared with Vedism the religion of the Gathas is monotheistic, in tendency at least, if not in precisely formulated creed ; compared with Buddhism it is theistic, believing not only in a moral order of the world, but in a moral order presided over by a Divine Sovereign. And the natural order and the moral are conceived as under one and the same divine control. The Good Spirit, Ormuzd (now written, Ahuramazda\ is at once maker of the physical world, the source of piety, and the fountain of that reverential love which a dutiful son cherishes towards a father. 1 In the hymns of Zoroaster, as in the Hebrew Psalms, the glory of God appears 1 The Gathas, Yasna xliv. 7. ZOROASTER: DUALISM 39 alike in the firmament which shovveth His handi- work and in the moral law whose statutes make wise the simple. But beside the Divine Head of the Kingdom of righteousness is Another, not perhaps of equal power and godhead, yet a kind of antigod, head of the Kingdom of evil and maker of whatever in the world is hostile to goodness. The Zoroastrian idea of God is practically dualistic, if not in the strict sense ditheistic. Ahuramazda has to submit to a rival, Ahriman (now called Angra-mainyii), the evil-minded, the Demon of the Lie. This dualism is not necessarily a pure invention of Zoroaster's. It may be the development of an unconscious dualism latent in the primitive religion of the united Aryan family. 1 Anthropologists tell us that dualism in crude forms was a characteristic of all primitive religions. It is e.g. a conspicuous feature in the religion of American Redmen from north to south. 2 Tylor gives the following curious example: * North American tribes have personified Nipinukhe and Pipunukhe, the beings who bring the spring (nipin) and the winter (pipun) : Nipinukhe brings the heat and birds and verdure, Pipunukhe ravages with his cold winds, his ice and snow ; one comes as the other goes, and between them they divide the world.' 3 Traces of this 'early omnipresent dualistic 1 Such is the view of Darmesteter, Ormuzd et Ahriman , p. 87. * Vide Lang's Myth, Ritual, and Religion, vol. ii. p. 47. 3 Tylor, Primitive Culture, vol. i. p. 300. 40 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD philosophy' 1 were to be expected in the original Aryan religion as elsewhere ; and they are found in the Vedic Hymns as well as in the Gathas. In the Veda, however, the conflict is physical, not ethical. It is simply a vivid mythological repre- sentation of the phenomena of storms. The scene of warfare is the atmosphere, and the war is between Indra, the god of light and of rain, and Ahi, the serpent whose tortuous body, the clouds, hides the light, or Vritra, the bandit, who shuts up the light and the waters in his nebulous cavern. 2 It has been maintained that the Persian dualism was originally of the same type, and ingenious attempts have been made to discover support for the assertion in the Avesta. 3 This position, whether true or not, it is not necessary to call in question. The fact of importance for us is that at some time before the Gathas were composed the physical conflict was transformed into a moral one, and the scene of warfare passed from the sky to the earth, and the subject of contest was no longer the light and the waters of heaven but the human soul. This is admitted even by Darmesteter, who strenuously maintains the primitive affinity between the Indian 1 Lang, Myth, Ritual, and Religion, vol. i. p. 334 ; also vol. ii. p. 4, in reference to the crow and the eagle, the 'old ones' who made the world according to an Australian myth. 'There was continual war bet wen these ornithomorphic creators. The strife was as fierce as between wolf and raven, coyote and dog, Ormuzd and Ahriman.' a Darmesteter, p, 97. * Vide Darmesteter's work above cited. ZOROASTER: DUALISM . 41 and the Persian forms of dualism. At what precise time the transformation took place it may be im- possible to determine, as also to what agency it was due ; enough for us that the great crisis in the Persian religion was antecedent to the Gathic period. If the Gathas, as is alleged, contain survivals of the older type of dualism, they contain also abundant traces of the transformed ethical type. Ahura is an ethical divinity loving righteous- ness and hating iniquity. His rival also is an ethical being, but of a sinister order ; a lover of falsehood and patron of wrong. And their respective subjects are like-minded with the divinities they serve. And the great fact for the sacred poet is the subjection of the world to the dominion of two antagonistic spirits, with the corresponding division of mankind into two great classes, those who obey the Good Spirit and those who are subject to the Evil Spirit. If these lofty conceptions were not entirely new creations, but transformations from lower forms of thought, they are none the less marvellous, when we consider how much is involved in the change of physical deities into ethical deities. If the transformation was the work of Zoroaster, single- handed, he deserves to be ranked among the great religious initiators of our race. If it was not the work of one man, or of one generation, the gradual- ness of the process does not make the result less valuable. It was a great day for ancient Persia, 42 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD and for the world, when there dawned upon prophetic minds the idea of a Kingdom of the good under the dominion of a beneficent Spirit who required of men the culture of righteousness and the practice of mercy. If the bright vision had its dark shadow in a Kingdom of evil presided over by a rival deity, let us not undervalue it on that account. The Demon of the Lie only serves as a foil to show forth by contrast the virtues of Ahura. The sombre conception of an antigod, however crude and helpless from a philosophical point of view, at least evinces the resolute de- termination of the Persian sage to preserve the character of the good Spirit absolutely free from all compromise with evil, and from all moral con- tamination. To accomplish this laudable purpose is the raison cFetre of the evil Spirit in the Zoroastrian creed. He is simply the negative of the good Spirit. He grows in the distinctness of his attributes and functions in proportion as the importance of keeping the divine idea pure is realised. He is whatever it is desirable that the truly divine should not be. In the primitive time before the separation, he was not known by name ; then he became the personifica- tion and heir of the demons of the storm ; then he assumed more definite shape as the antithesis of Ahura, and his character was outlined in malign com- pleteness on the principles of analogy and contrast. 1 1 Vidt Darmesteter, Ormuzd et Ahriman, chap. vi. ZOROASTER: DUALISM 43 The thing to be emphasised, therefore, in the first place, in the religion of the Gathas, is not the dualism, but the conception contained in them of the Good Spirit. This is a permanently valuable contribution to the evolution of religious thought. The character ascribed to Ahura is pure and exalted. Among the epithets employed to describe him, one specially strikes a thoughtful reader. Ahura is declared to be ' the Father of the .toiling good mind,' and piety or devotion revealing itself in good deeds is called his daughter. 1 The application of the title * Father' to the Divine Being is in itself worthy of note, and from the connection in which it is used we get a glimpse into the heart of the Divine Father. Observe who are His children. They are the men who toil, who take life in earnest, who with resolute will strive to do the work that lies to their hand. And what is the nature of that work ? It is such as commends itself to the 'good mind/ work in which noble souls can be enthusiastic. That means some- thing higher than tilling the fields and tending the flocks, though these useful labours are not despised. It means contributing to the store of righteousness and its beneficent fruits : in short, toiling for the kingdom of goodness. That is to say, the sons and daughters of Ahura are those who, in the language of Jesus, 'seek first the king- dom of God,' and heroically devote themselves to 1 The Gathas, Yasna xlv. 4. 44 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD its service. Through the children we know the Father, and perceive that He bears some resem- blance to the Father-God Jesus made known to His disciples. Further light is thrown on the character of Ahura by the doctrine of the Amschaspands. The name sounds very unattractive to our ears, but the thing is simple. The doctrine of the Amschaspands is simply the doctrine of the divine attributes. The Amschas- pands are personified virtues of the good Spirit. They are six, or, counting Ahura Himself as one, seven. Their names are uncouth, and I shall not attempt to pronounce them, but according to Dar- mesteter they signify righteousness, the good mind, sovereign might, piety as it manifests itself in the souls of believers, health, and long life. 1 In this list there seems to be a mixture of physical and moral properties. Another thing still more notable is, the ascription to the Divine Being of what belongs to His worshipper practical piety. We have already seen that the piety of good men is represented as the daughter of Ahura. But in the doctrine of the Amschaspands it is more than a daughter, even an essential ingredient in the character of Ahura. It almost seems as if the Deity of the ancient Persians were simply the immanent spirit of the holy com- monwealth ; He in it and it in Him, and all characteristic properties common to both. This 1 Darmesteter, I.e., p. 42. : DUALISM 4$ might be called pantheism, were it not for the con- ception of an antigod, which is not consistent with a pantheistic theory of the universe. Mr. Mills suggests the designation, ' Hagio-theism,' to which he appends the explanatory title, 'a delineation of God in the holy creation.' 1 This phrase does not cover the whole truth about God as conceived by Zoroastrians. Ahura is not merely the immanent spirit of the society of saints ; He is, as already indicated, the Creator-spirit of the universe. His attribute of righteousness, Asha y denotes right order not only in the holy common- wealth but in the cosmos at large. This appears in Yasna xliv., which contains a series of suggestive questions addressed to Ahura which, in an interro- gative form, set forth the poet's confession of faith concerning the relations of the good Spirit to the cosmic order. Two of these questions may be given by way of sample. 3. ' This, I ask thee, O Ahura 1 tell me aright : Who by generation was the first father of the righteous order (within the world) ? Who gave the (recurring) sun and stars their (unde- viating) way ? Who established that whereby the moon waxes and whereby she wanes, save thee ? These things, O great Creator 1 would I know, and others likewise still. 1 The Githas, Introduction, p. xix. 46 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD 4. * This I ask thee, O Ahura ! tell me aright, Who from beneath hath sustained the earth and the clouds above that they do not fall ? Who made the waters and the plants ? Who to the wind has yoked on the storm-clouds, the swift and fleetest two ? Who, O great Creator ! is the inspirer of the good thoughts (within our souls) P 1 The cosmic order and the moral order, then, are both alike ordained by Ahura. The courses of the stars; the alternations of light and darkness, day and night, sleep and waking hours ; the daily succession of dawn, noon and midnight ; the flow of rivers, the growth of corn and of fruit-trees ; the exhilarating sweep of purifying breezes ; the inspired thoughts of poets, saints, and sages, and the love which binds men together in family ties these all have their origin in Ahura's wisdom and power. This being so, what room and need, one is inclined to ask, in this universe, fora rival divinity? On first thoughts Angra-mainyu may seem an idle invention ; but on second thoughts we are forced to admit that the conception, however crude, was very natural. Theories always have their ultimate origin in ob- servation of facts. The fact-basis of the Persian dualism was the observed presence in the world of two sorts of men, diverse in spirit and in conduct, with incompatible interests and ever at war. They are the 1 The Gathas, Yasna xliv. The bracketed clauses in this and othei quotations are explanatory expressions introduced by the translator. ZOROASTER: DUALISM 47 good-minded and the evil-minded respectively ; those who love truth and justice, and those who love false- hood and wrong. The existence of the two classes is recognised in the Gathas in these quaint terms, * He is evil who is the best one to the evil, and he is holy who is friendly to the righteous, as thou didst fix the moral laws, O Lord.' 1 The opposed classes come under the notice of the poet in a very realistic, obtrusive, and unwelcome manner in the form of two peoples, diverse in race, language, religion, and social condition. The good are represented by his own people, Aryans in race and language, worshippers of Ahura and tillers of the soil in fertile valleys by river-courses where flocks graze and grain grows. The evil are represented by obnoxious neighbours of the Turanian race, 2 nomads, worshippers of demons, too near the Aryan farmers for their comfort, ever ready to make incursions into their settlements and carry off the 'joy-creating kine' from the pleasant peaceful meadows. 8 Behold an elect people, an Israel, in the far East, with Philistines on every side ! The incessant con- flict between them can be imagined. Invasion and rapine on the part of the demon-worshipping nomads, resolute defence of their property on the part of Zoroastrians. The bitterness of the increasing strife is reflected in the sacred poems by frequent reference, and by the terms of intense dislike applied to the 1 Yasna xlvi. 6. 2 Ibid., 12. 8 Yasna xlvii. 3. 4 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD foes of the children of light. In the conflict, material, moral and religious interests and motives are blended, and all three are surrounded with a common halo of sacredness. The defence of agriculture against the assaults of pagan nomads becomes a holy cause. Hence the personified abstraction, the * Soul of the Kine/ becomes the poetic emblem, not only of the material interests of the worshippers of Ahura, but also of the spiritual. It is the 'Soul of the Kine/ representing the devout tillers of the land, that in the hour of distress raises a wailing cry to Ahura to send a strong wise man to teach them the true faith and lead them against their foes. Zoroaster was the answer to its prayer. 1 No wonder that in these circumstances the idea of a divine antagonist to Ahura, head of the Kingdom of darkness, took possession of the mind of the poet and prophet who was sent in answer to the Soul of the Kine's prayer. For one of his intense mystic temper, Ahriman would seem the appropriate divine embodiment of the evil spirit active in the dark Turanian world. One can imagine how it might appear to him as a great revelation, throwing a flood of light on life's mysteries, to proclaim as an ultimate fact the existence of two opposed Spirits dividing the dominion of the world between them. This accord- ingly the hero, sent in answer to the distressed cry of the Kine's soul, is represented as doing in a 1 Yasna xxix. ZOROASTER: DUALISM 49 solemn address to an assembled multitude. ' Hear ye then with your ears/ thus he begins, ' see ye the bright flames with (the eyes of the) Better Mind. It is for a decision as to religions, man and man, each individually for himself.' 1 Then follows the great doctrine of dualism : ' Thus are the primeval spirits who as a pair (combining their opposite strivings), and (yet each) independent in his action, have been formed (of old). (They are) a better thing, they two, and a worse, as to thought, as to word, and as to deed. And between these two let the wisely acting choose aright. (Choose ye) not (as) the evil-doers.' 2 That this doctrine of dualism would never have been heard of but for Turanian invasions of Aryan settlements, would be a very simple supposition. Alas ! there was evil within the holy land as well as without, and there was a traditional instinctive dualism already in possession of the popular mind, and both these sources would contribute material for reflective thought on the mystery of good and evil and its ultimate explanation. But the doctrine would gain sharpness of outline from the existence of a Turanian environment, and the constant con- flicts between the two hostile races would convert what might otherwise have been a mild philosophic theorem into a divine message coming from a heart on fire with a sacred enthusiasm and uttered in 1 Yasna xxx. 2. 2 Yasna xxx. 3. D So THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD words of prophetic intensity. Such is the character of the Gatha in which the doctrine is proclaimed. The temper of the poet is not philosophic ; it is truculent, Hebrew, Puritan. His utterance breathes at once the lofty spiritual tone and the vindictiveness of certain Psalms in the Hebrew Psalter. He con- templates with satisfaction the time when vengeance shall come upon the wretches who worship the Daevas. 1 His mind is dominated by the same broad antitheses that were ever present to the thoughts of Israel : between the elect people and the Gentiles, between light and darkness, truth and falsehood ; and the light is very brilliant and the darkness very dark. Yet the attitude of the Persian prophet towards the outside world is not exclusively hostile, as if those who had given themselves to the service of the Evil Spirit were incapable of change. Conver- sion is conceived to be possible. Conversions are expected even from the Turanians. With clear pro- phetic vision, reminding us of Hebrew Psalmists, the poet of the Gathas anticipates a time when ' from among the tribes and kith of the Turanian those shall arise who further on the settlements of Piety with energy and zeal/ and with whom Ahura shall 1 dwell together through his Good Mind (in them), and to them for joyful grace deliver His commands.' 2 The man who cherishes this hope has no wish to 1 Yasna xxx. 33. a Yasna xlvi. 12. ZOROASTER: DUALISM 51 enjoy a monopoly of Ahura's blessing. He harbours in his heart no pride either of election or of race. He is conscious, indeed, of possessing in the true faith a boon for which he cannot be too thankful. But he is willing to share the boon with any who have a mind to receive it, even if they come from the tents of the nomads. Race for him is not the fundamental distinction among men, as is caste for his kindred in India. The grand radical cleavage in his view is that between men of the Good Mind and men of the Evil Mind, and the fact attests the sincerity and depth of his devotion to the creed he proclaims. That conversion is thought to be possible, even in unlikely quarters, is a point worth noting in that creed. Men, we see, are not conceived to be good or evil by necessity of nature and irrevocably ; every man by an insurmountable fatality a child of Ahura, or a child of Ahura's antagonist ; no change from bad to good possible, either through self-effort or through gracious influence of transcendent powers. Evil and good are objects of choice, and the man who makes a wrong choice to-day may make the better choice to-morrow. Such is the hopeful creed of Zoroaster. But no optimistic expectations aie cherished. Present experience does not encourage extravagant anticipations or universalistic dreams. Depressing facts stare one in the face : the obstinacy of unbelief, the rarity of conversions, and even within the pale 52 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD of the chosen people the prevalence of grievous evil : arrogance among those of high degree, lying among the people, slothful neglect of needful toil; 1 and, worst 'of all, evil men not seen and believed to be the sinners that they are, posing and passing as children of light when they are in truth children of darkness. 2 To these moral faults have to be added perplexing social evils bad men prosper- ing, good men suffering frustration and misfortune. Surveying the whole, a man of earnest spirit addicted to reflection is more likely to fall a prey to dark doubt than to indulge in high hopes of rapid ex- tension and steadily increasing sway for the king- dom of righteousness. Traces of such doubts are not wanting in the Gathas. The poet asks such questions as these : * Wherefore is the vile man not known to be vile?' 8 'When shall I in verity dis- cern if ye indeed have power over aught, O Lord ? ' * and he brings under Mazda's notice the perplexing facts of his own experience unable to attain his wish, his flocks reduced in number, his following insignifi- cant beseeching him to behold and help if he can. 6 Here is matter enough surely for musing ! Vile men, e.g. not known to be vile ! Why cannot men be either one thing or another, decidedly good or decidedly evil ? Why be evil and at the same time feign goodness ? Alas ! it is so advantageous some- 1 Yasna xxxiii. 4. a Ibid. xliv. 12. Ibid. xliv. H. * Ibid, xlviii. 9. B Ibid. xlvi. 2. ZOROASTER: DUALISM 53 times to have the name of being good ; so easy to slide intc the false ways of hypocrisy, especially in times of exceptional religious enthusiasm. When in the first fervour of a new faith believers have all things in common, Ananiases and Sapphiras are sure to arise. Again, has Ahura any real power? Ahura's good-will is not doubted, and that is well ; for when, as in the case of the author of the 73rd Psalm, doubt arises in the mind whether God be indeed good even to the pure in heart, the feet are near to slipping. 1 But Ahura's power seems open to grave question. As things stand, the Evil Spirit seems to be in the ascendency. Openly wicked men abound, hypocrisy is rampant, all around the settle- ments of the worshippers of Mazda is the dark world of demon- worship. How can this be, if Ahura's power to establish the kingdom of righteousness be equal to his will? The personal afflictions of which the poet complains help, of course, to make these doubts and perplexities more acute. If Ahura be powerful, why does he not protect his devoted servant from plunder, and give him the success his heart desires in the propagation of the faith? Natural questions raising abstruse problems out of experiences which repeat themselves in all ages. The poet of the Gathas seems to have regarded the conflict between good and evil as eternal. The doctrine of dualism enunciated in the 3Oth Yasna 1 Ps. Ixxiii. 2. 54 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD comes in as an answer to the question how the primaeval world arose. 1 According to that doctrine, evil always has been and always will be. It never had a beginning, and never will have an end. There might be a time when men were not, but there never was a time when the transcendent Evil Mind was not. The two antagonist minds are both repre- sented as 'primaeval.' 2 And the prospect for the future is not one of the final conversion of all the evil-minded to goodness, but of the final judgment of the inveterately wicked. * The swallowing up of sin and sorrow in ultimate happiness/ according to Mr. Mills, 'belongs to a later period It is not Gathic Zarathustrianism.' 3 Of 'Zarathustrianism/ according to the Gathas, I have endeavoured in the preceding statement to give a brief account. It remains to offer some observa- tions on its general religious value, on its special contribution to the theory of the providential order, and on the influence which it has exerted on the subsequent history of religious thought. The grand merit of this Persian religion is its thoroughgoing moral earnestness, its Hebrew pas- sion for righteousness. In this respect Zoroaster is not unworthy to stand beside the prophets of Israel. As regards this fundamental characteristic, the mean- ing of the Gathas, we are assured, remains unaffected by all the difficulties of syntax which make trans- * Yasna xxviii. 12. 8 Ibid. xxx. 3. * The Gathas, p. 26. ZOROASTER: DUALISM 55 lation a hard task for experts. 1 The poet on every page appears an ardent admirer of the Good Mind ; a passionate lover of justice, truth, purity, and kind- ness. Mr. Mills, who has rendered an important service by translating his hymns into English, pro- nounces an opinion on their value which may well be accepted as authoritative. It is in these terms : 'So far as a claim to a high position among the curiosities of ancient moral lore is concerned, the reader may trust himself freely to the impression that he has before him an anthology which was probably composed with as fervent a desire to benefit the spiritual and moral natures of those to whom it was addressed as any which the world had yet seen.' 2 The Gathic idea of God is the child of this intense ethical temper. The wise, good, beneficent Spirit called Ahura-mazda is a projection of the good mind which animates his worshipper. In our study of Buddhism we found, to our surprise, that his beautiful ethical ideal did not suggest to Buddha the conception of a Deity in which all he admired and sought to be was perfectly realised. The Persian prophet did not make this mistake. He saw in the good mind of man the immanence and operation of an absolute Good Mind. Hence his theology was as pure as his ethics. It was the bright reflection of a good conscience. 1 Vide an article by Mr. Mills on 'Avestan Difficulties' in The Critical Review for July 1896. 2 The Gathas, p. I. 56 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD The antigod proclaimed in the doctrine of dualism had a similar origin. It was a device to protect the character of Ahura from taint, and to heighten the brightness of its light by contrast with darkness. It may be a failure as a theory, but it does credit to the moral sentiments of its promulgator. Had he been less deeply impressed with the radical irrecon- cilable distinction between good and evil, he might have found it easier to believe that God was one not two, and so have divided with Hebrew prophets the honour of giving to the world ethical monotheism. Passing now to the doctrine of the two gods, I remark concerning it, in the first place, that in promulgating it the Persian prophet was dealing seriously with a radical problem, the origin of evil. Of moral evil I mean, for it does not appear from the Gathas that physical evil occupied a very pro- minent place in their author's thoughts. The question of questions for him was, Why are all men not under law to the good? To be good seemed so reason- able, so natural, to one whose own mind was good, to love truth, justice, and mercy so easy, that he could not but wonder why any should be otherwise minded. Evil appeared to him so unnatural, so unaccountable, that he was forced to seek its foun- tain-head not in man, but in a transcendent causality even within the region of the divine. A more serious view of the matter it is impossible to conceive. But this short and easy solution will not bear ZOROASTER: DUALISM 57 reflection. Obvious defects at once suggest them- selves. In the first place, the theory assigns too absolute significance to Evil by finding its origin and even its permanent home in the sphere of the divine. It has indeed been questioned whether Zoroaster really did this, whether his so-called dualism was dualistic in principle ; that is, whether the Evil Spirit was co-ordinate with the Good Spirit, and not rather sub- ordinate, even his creature. 1 But there is no trace of such a view in the Gathas. The Good Spirit, as there conceived, could not create a spirit evil at the moment of his creation. He could only create a spirit who was at first good, then afterwards fell into evil a being, i.e. like Milton's Satan. Such, how- ever, is not the history of Ahriman as given in the Gathas. He is evil from the beginning. This idea of an absolute divine Evil is self-cancel- ling. It gives to Evil equal rights with the Good. If evil and good be alike divine, who is to decide between their claims ? what ground is there for pre- ferring either to the other? It comes to be a matter of liking, one man choosing the Good Spirit for his god, another the Evil Spirit, neither having a right 1 The second of these alternatives is adopted by Harnack. Vide his essay on Manichseism at the end of vol. iii. of his History of Dogma^ English translation. The opposite view was held by Hegel, who regarded the dualism of the Persian religion as a merit. The fault lay not in introducing the antithesis into the sphere of the divine, but in not providing for its being ultimately overcome. Vide his Philo- sophie der Gcschichte, p. 182 (English translation, p. 186). 58 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD to call in question the other's choice. So it results that a dualism created by the over-anxious assertion of moral distinctions turns into its opposite, and makes these distinctions purely relative and subjective. The account given of man's relation to this divine dualism, though simple and satisfactory at first sight, breaks down on further examination. It is repre- sented as a matter of choice, * a decision as to religions, man and man, each individually for him- self.' The man of evil will, accordingly, chooses the Evil Spirit for his Divinity. But whence the evil will ? Has the Evil Spirit waited till he was chosen before beginning to exert his malign influence, or has he been at work before in the soul of his wor- shipper predestining and disposing him to the bad preference? On the latter alternative, where is the freedom of will ? If, on the other hand, the will be uncontrolled, and the choice perfectly deliberate and intelligent, a free preference of the worse mind by one who fully knows what he does, does this not involve a state of pravity which is final, leaving no room for change from the worse to the better mind, a sin against the Good Spirit which cannot be repented of or forgiven? Yet the Gathic creed recognises the possibility of conversion. The origin of evil cannot be explained so easily as the Persian sage imagined. The doctrine of the Twin Spirits raises more difficulties than it solves. Better leave the problem alone and confess that the ZOROASTER: DUALISM 59 origin of evil is a mystery. Or, if you will have a dualism, why not one such as Zoroaster's personal history might have suggested to him ? One of the Gathas obscurely hints at a temptation to a gross form of sensual indulgence. 1 How near the tempted one was to the discovery that the real antithesis was not between two divine Spirits eternally antagonistic, but between spirit and flesh in man ; between the law in the mind and the law in the members ! This form of dualism may not, any more than the other, go to the root of the matter, or utter the final word on all questions relating to evil. But it at least points to a real, not an imaginary, antagonism. And by placing the dualism within rather than without it gets rid of the hard line of separation between good men and bad men, drawn by a theory which lays exclusive emphasis on the will. In the light of this internal dualism we see that men are not divisible into the perfectly good and the perfectly evil, but that all men are both good and evil in varying proportions. There is a law in the members even of a saint, and there is a law of the mind con- senting to good even in the most abandoned trans- gressor. The fact once realised tends to breed humility and sympathy. The good man becomes less satisfied with himself, and more inclined to lenient judgment on his fellow - men. What an immense advance in self-knowledge is revealed by 1 Yasna li. 12. 60 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD comparing the Gathas with the seventh chapter of St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans, and what a con- trast between the hard severe tone of the Persian hymns and the benignant kindly accent of the words, 'Considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted'! Evil is not to be explained away by smooth phrases ; but there is comfort in the thought that few commit that sin against the Holy Ghost which consists in a perfectly deliberate and intelli- gent preference of evil to good ; that most sins are sins of ignorance and impulse committed by men who are carried headlong by desire or habit, and deluded by a show of good in things evil. On the historic influence of the Persian theory, only a few sentences can be added. The religion of Zoroaster is almost extinct, its only adherents now being the Parsees in India, amounting to about one hundred and fifty thousand ; an insignificant number compared with the four hundred millions professing Buddhism, and suggesting the thought that, with all its fair promise, this ancient faith must have had some inherent defect which foredoomed it to failure. It is not easy to believe that under the providential order a religion fitted to render important service to mankind would be allowed so completely to sink out of sight. The subsequent career of Zoroastrianism, while it was the religion of the Persian people, was not favourable to per- ZOROASTER: DUALISM 61 manent influence and extensive prevalence. It developed into the worship of fire, and of the Haoma plant, and of spirits innumerable, of diverse grades, names, and functions, and into elaborate ceremonial for the purpose of securing ritual purity. Dualism widened out into a species of refined polytheism, and the ethical, supreme at first, became lost among the de.tails of a sacerdotal system. The direct influence of Persian dualism has been supposed to be traceable specially in two quarters : in the later religious ideas of the Hebrews, and in the Manichaean religion which made its appearance in the third century of our era. As to the latter, to speak of it first, the main interest it possesses for us is the hold which it took of the youthful mind of Augustine, and the influence which through him it has exercised on Christian theology. It used to be regarded as certain that the religion of Mani was a revival of Zoroastrianism modified by Christianity. Recent investigation, however, has brought about a change of view ; and the theory now in favour is that the basis of Manichaeism is to be sought in the old Babylonian religion ; that it is a Semitic growth with a mixture of Persian and Christian elements. It resembles Zoroastrianism in so far as it also teaches a dualistic theory of the universe. But the Mani- chaean dualism is not ethical, but physical. The great antithesis in the creed of Mani is that between light and darkness, not as emblems of good and evil, 62 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD but as themselves good and evil. Religious know- ledge consists in the knowledge of nature and its elements, and redemption in a physical separation of the light elements from the darkness. Human nature belongs mainly to the realm of darkness, while not without some sparks of light. The ethics of the system are ascetic, inculcating abstinence from all that belongs to the dark region, such as fleshly desire. However repulsive to us this strange re- ligious conglomerate may appear, it must have met the mood of the time, for it spread rapidly, and became one of the great religions of the period. 1 Going back now to the alleged influence of Persian thought on the religious ideas of Israel after the period of the Exile : the chief instance of this has been found in the conception of Satan. Satan has been supposed to be Ahriman transferred from Persia to Palestine. It is a plausible but by no means in- disputable hypothesis. The question is mixed up with critical theories as to the dates of those Old Testament books in which Satan occurs as a personal designation. These are Job, Zechariah, and I Chron- icles. If these books were written during or after the Exile, the Persian origin of the Satan idea would be at least possible. But even among critics of the freest type there is diversity of opinion as to their dates. Thus Renan places the Book of Job as far back as the eighth century B.C. He is equally 1 Vid* the article by Harnack referred to on p. 57, note. ZOROASTER: DUALISM 63 decided as to the non-identity of Satan with Ahriman, giving as his reason that Satan does nothing except by the order of God, that he is simply an angel of a more malign character than the rest; sly, and inclined to slander ; by no means to be identified with the genius of evil existing and acting independently. 1 More significant, perhaps, is the function assigned to Satan in I Chronicles. He there performs an act which in an earlier book, 2 Samuel, is ascribed to God. In Samuel Jehovah tempts David to number the people, in Chronicles Jehovah's place is taken by Satan. 2 It is a ready suggestion that the Chronicler, writing at the close of the Persian period of Jewish history, made the alteration under the influence of Persian ideas as to what it was fit that God should do. To tempt men to evil was not, from the Persian point of view, suitable work for the Good Spirit; such a malign function properly belonged to his rival. That familiarity with Persian ways of thinking gave rise to the scruples betrayed in the alteration made on the older narrative is an allowable conjecture. However they are to be explained, the scruples manifestly existed, and this is the thing of chief interest for us. We see here, if not Persian dualism, at all events a species of dualism originating in a feeling kindred to that which gave rise to the doctrine of the 'Twin Spirits. 1 The Chronicler's 1 Le Livre dejob, p. xxxix. ' Vide 2 Samuel xxiv. II, and cf. I Chronicles xxi. L 64 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD feeling obviously was that to tempt is an evil work which may not be ascribed to God. The feeling represents an advance in some respects on the older less scrupulous way of thinking, which would have found no stumbling-block in the robust prophetic sentiment, * I form the light and create darkness ; I make peace and create evil.' 1 The scruple of the later time grew out of an intensified sense of morat distinctions : wherever this sense becomes acute, dualism in some form is likely to reappear. Hence we are not done with dualism even yet. Though the Zoroastrian religion is all but extinct, itts con- ception of an antigod is not a thing of the distant past. As we shall see, at a later stage in our course, it is being revived under a new form in our own time. 2 There is much in the world to tempt one who believes in a good God to take up with the dualistic hypothesis. Yet surely it cannot be the last word. The broad strong creed contained in the prophetic oracle above cited expresses, not only the rough belief of an unrefined moral consciousness, but also the ultimate conviction in which alone the heart can find rest. Perhaps the prophet had the Persian dualism in view when he made the bold declaration. While respecting the moral earnestness in which that dualism had its source, he deemed it, we may sup- pose, only a half truth, and therefore supplied the needed correction by representing God as the creator 1 Isaiah zlv. 7. ' Vide Lecture X. ZOROASTER: DUALISM 65 both of light and of darkness. However hard to hold, this is the true creed. The dominion of the world cannot be divided between two, whether we call them Ormuzd and Ahriman, Jehovah and Satan, God and Devil, or by any other names. God must be God over all, and His providence must be all- embracing. LECTURE III THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS : NEMESIS STUDENTS of the religions of mankind insist on the importance of distinguishing between the mythical and the truly religious elements in belief. In all stages of culture, among the lowest and most back- ward peoples as among the most advanced, the two elements are found to co-exist. They are of very different value. In the mythical element the absurd and the immoral abound. The religious element, on the other hand, is a comparatively pure and rational sentiment, everywhere essentially the same ; faith in a Power working for righteousness, and more or less benign in its dealings with the children of men. 1 In no case is it more necessary to bear this dis- tinction in mind than in dealing with the religion of Greece. The mythology of that religion earned for itself a bad reputation by those grotesque and licentious features on which the early Christian Fathers were wont to dilate in an apologetic interest. The tendency of apologists generally has been to think of these features of ancient Pagan religions too 1 Vide Lang, Myth, Ritual, and Religion, vol. i. pp. 328, 329. THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS : NEMESIS 67 exclusively, in forming an estimate of their worth. Hence the fact complained of by Professor Max Miiller, that while we have endless books on the mythology of the Greeks and Romans, we have comparatively few on their religion, that is, their belief in a wise, powerful Eternal Ruler of the world. 1 Since that distinguished scholar made his complaint, thoughtful students of Greek literature have become more alive to the fact that such a belief in a Divine Moral Order had a large place in the minds of the wisest Greek thinkers, and really constituted their proper religious creed. The modern spirit inclines to give that belief the position of prominence in its estimate of Hellenic religion, and to regard the mythology as a thing which grew out of a primitive nature-worship, for which the Greeks of a later age were not responsible, and towards which they assumed varying attitudes of reverent receptivity respectful tolerance, or sceptical contempt. Mythology and religion, in the sense explained, are intimately combined in Greek Tragedy. The myths and legendary tales of the heroic age are the warp, and the ethical and religious sentiments of the poet are the woof, of the immortal dramas of -^Eschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. The warp is essentially the same in all three, yet the colour varies more or less in each of them. The individuality of each of the great dramatists comes out in his manner of 1 Vide Science of Language, vol. ii. p. 413. 68 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD reproducing the tradition, as also in the attitude he assumes towards the whole stock of myths and legends handed down from antiquity. For yEschylus they are truth to be accepted with reverent faith ; for Sophocles they are fiction to be received and used with artistic decorum ; for Euripides they are ridiculous tales to be regarded with sceptical scorn and handled with critical freedom. The woof varies as well as the warp. When we compare the three tragedians with each other, we can trace a certain advance in their respective conceptions of the moral order of the world. This was to be expected in the case of men possessing exceptionally high intel- lectual and moral endowments. None of them was likely to be a simple echo of his predecessor. Every one of them, ^Eschylus not excepted, was likely to have some new thought to utter on the high themes which occupied their minds in common. Develop- ment in all respects, indeed, may be looked for ; in dramatic art, in the personal attitude towards mythology, and in the individual views concerning the providential order. Progression has been recognised in the two first of these three departments. As to the artistic side I cannot go into details, but must content myself with a brief general indication, based on the in- structive statement of Mr. Symonds in his Stu-iies of the Greek Poets. Mr, Symonds says : ' The law of inevitable progression in art from the severe and THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS : NEMESIS 69 animated embodiment of an idea to the conscious elaboration of merely aesthetic motives and brilliant episodes, has hitherto been neglected by the critics and historians of poetry. They do not observe that the first impulse in a people towards creative- ness is some deep and serious emotion, some fixed point of religious enthusiasm or national pride. To give adequate form to this taxes the energies of the first generation of artists, and raises their poetic faculty, by the admixture of prophetic inspiration, to the highest pitch. After the original passion for the ideas to be embodied in art has somewhat subsided, but before the glow and fire of enthusiasm have faded out, there comes a second period, when art is studied more for art's sake, but when the generative potency of the early poets is by no means exhausted.' The author goes on to indicate how, during these two stages, the mine of available ideas is worked out, and the national taste educated, so that for the third generation of artists the alternatives left are either to reproduce their models a task impossible for genius or to seek novelty at the risk of impair- ing the strength or the beauty which has become stereotyped. ' Less deeply interested in the great ideas by which they have been educated, and of which they are in no sense the creators, incapable of competing on the old ground with their elders, they are obliged to go afield for striking situations, to force sentiment and pathos, to subordinate the 70 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD harmony of the whole to the melody of the parts, to sink the prophet in the poet, the hierophant in the charmer.' ^Eschylus represents the first stage in this progression, Sophocles the second, Euripides trie third. Mr. Symonds compares the three poets to the three styles of Gothic architecture, ^Eschylus representing the rugged Norman, Sophocles the refined pointed style, Euripides the florid flamboyant manner. ' ^Eschylus/ he says, * aimed at durability of structure, at singleness and grandeur of effect. Sophocles added the utmost elegance and finish. Euripides neglected force of construction and unity of design for ornament and brilliancy of effect.' 1 The advance in the second respect, i.e. in the attitude assumed towards the legends which formed the stock-in-trade of dramatic art, from the reverence of ^Eschylus through the artistic reserve of Sophocles to the outspoken rationalism of Euripides, has been duly recognised by such recent writers as Verrall and Haigh. 2 But the third aspect of the onward movement for our purpose the most important of all that exhibited in the respective conceptions of the three great tragedians on the subject of the moral order and relative phenomena, has not received as yet, at least so far as I know, the full acknowledg- ment and distinct formulation to which it is entitled. 1 Studies of the Greek Poets, 1st series, pp. 206-208. * Vide Verrall's Euripides the Rationalist (1895), and Haigh 's Th* Tragic Drama of the Creeks (1896), THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS: NEMESIS 71 That development here also can be verified, seems to me beyond doubt. It is just such a progression as might have been expected. When stated, the law of advance is so simple and natural as to appear self-evident, and scarcely in need of verification. The law in question is as follows : ^Eschylus, coming first, believes firmly in the unimpeachable retributive justice of Providence. His doctrine is kindred to that of Eliphaz in Job : ' Remember, I pray thee, who ever perished being innocent? or where were the righteous cut off?' 1 Sophocles, coming next, while not questioning the general truth of the ^Eschylean doctrine of Nemesis, sees clearly and states frankly that there are ex- ceptions both ways ; bad men prospering, good men suffering grievous misfortune. Antigone, QEdi- pus, Philoctetes are some of the conspicuous examples of afflicted innocence. ;Such facts the poet, while constrained to acknowledge their exist- ence, does not profess to understand ; he simply reckons them among the mysteries of human life. Euripides goes one step further ; the suffering of innocence is for him as well as for Sophocles a fact, but not altogether a mysterious one : he perceives a ray of light amid the darkness. He knows and notes that there is not merely such a thing as innocence involuntarily suffering unmerited evil, but also such a thing as innocence voluntarily enduring 1 Job iv. 7. 72 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD evil, at the prompting of love and in devotion to a good cause. Such self-sacrifice did not appear to him, I think, a violation of the moral order, but rather the manifestation of that order under a new form. This law of progress in the reading of moral phenomena, kept well in view, will help us to ap- preciate better the distinctive lessons to be learnt from the Greek Tragedians concerning the provi- dential order of the world. A few general statements of fact may here be premised. The story of the rise, progress, and uses of the Greek Tragic Drama cannot here be told. Suffice it to say that the drama served the same purpose for the Greeks that the sermon does for a Christian community. It did this and more. The statement of Professor Blackie is not far from the truth, that 'the lyrical tragedy of the Greeks presents, in a combination elsewhere unexampled, the best ele- ments of our serious drama, our opera, our oratorio, our public worship, and our festal recreations.' 1 The drama was for the Greek the chief medium of ethical and religious instruction. The three most celebrated dramatic preachers were those already named: ^Eschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. jEschylus was born 525 B.C., Sophocles about 497 B.C., and Euripides 480 B.C. ^Eschylus took part in the war against the Persians and made the defeat Translation of /Eschylus, vol. i. Introduction, p. xlviii. THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS : NEMESIS 73 of the mighty foe by his countrymen the subject of one of his tragedies. He and his brother-poets wrote many tragic dramas, only a few of which have been preserved ; of ^Eschylus seven, of Sophocles seven, and of Euripides eighteen. Their themes were taken for the most part from the traditional tales of the ggds and the legendary history of the heroic age of Greece. Homer was their Bible. ^Eschylus is reported to have said that his tragedies were only slices cut from the great banquet of Homeric dainties. The siege of Troy with relative incidents supplied abundant topics for the dramatic preacher who, with the true preacher's instinct, was ever careful to point the moral lesson suggested by his story. Among the legends which offered ample opportunity for moralising were those relating to the fortunes of Agamemnon, the leader of the Greek host against Troy, and of his family. The main events are: the sacrifice of the daughter of Agamemnon, Iphigenia, at Aulis, to obtain a fair wind to carry the fleet to Troy; the murder of Agamemnon on his return home from the ten years' siege, by his own wife, Clytemnestra ; and the murder of her in turn by her son Orestes. ^Eschylus and Euripides both handle these themes with great power, though with characteristic differences in the mode of treatment. Three of the extant plays of ^Eschylus are devoted to them : the Agamemnon y the Libation- Bearers, and the Eumenides^ i.e. the 74 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD Furies who haunted Orestes when he had killed his mother. The first and the last of the three show the genius of the poet at its best. With them is worthy to be associated the Prometheus Bound \ whose theme is unique, and whose story, as we shall see, presents a curious problem with reference to the doctrine of ^Eschylus concerning the moral order, which I now proceed to illustrate. The message of ^Eschylus, broadly stated, is that the gods render to every man according to his works, that men reap in lot what they sow in conduct. In teaching this doctrine he was by no means merely echoing traditional opinion. The older view was that quaintly expressed by Herodotus, that Deity is envious; 1 that is to say, that the gods inflict misery on men not only because they do wrong, but also because they are more prosperous than befits the human state. In a passage in the Agamemnon ^Eschylus refers to this ancient belief as still current, intimates his inability to acquiesce in it, and, though conscious of standing alone, 2 boldly declares his conviction that 1 Whoso is just, though his wealth like a river Flow down, shall be scathless : his house shall rejoice In an offspring of beauty for ever.' 3 1 Historic i. 32. To fletov vu> 0ovep6v. 8 Nagelsbach, in Nachhomerische Theologie, p. 50, leads proof that ^Eschylua really stood alone in his view that he was, as he says, povtxppuv. ' B kc kit's translation of ^schylus, vol. i. p. 47. THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS: NEMESIS 75 Thus, while, by comparison with Sophocles and still more with Euripides, representing an antiquated theory, Jischylus was himself an innovator, inaugu- rating a new type of thought on the subject of the moral order. His contribution was an important step onwards in the evolution of providential theory. It aimed at the moralisation of belief concerning the divine dealings with men, by lifting these out of the low region of caprice or jealous passion into the serener atmosphere of fixed ethical prin- ciple. It was a doctrine worth preaching with all the enthusiasm that a new and noble faith can inspire, and ^Eschylus lost no opportunity of illus- trating and enforcing it. The Persians is the only piece among the remains of the ancient drama which draws its material from the history instead of the mythology of Greece. ^Eschylus may have been tempted to make it an exception because of the splendid opportunity it afforded of illustrating his doctrine of retribution. This drama is a sermon on the ruin that overtakes pride, as exemplified in the disastrous failure of the ambitious attempt of the Persian despot to subdue Greece. The mood of the preacher is that of a Hebrew prophet announcing the doom of Babylon or Tyre, or of Carlyle when he wrote The French Revolution. ' To him, as to the old Hebrew prophets, history is a revelation of the will of providence ; and the ruin of armies, and the overthrow of nations, are 76 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD but examples of the handiwork of God.' 1 The gist of the whole dramatic spectacle is given in these few lines : * For wanton pride from blossom grows to fruit, The full corn in the ear, of utter woe, And reaps a tear-fraught harvest ' ; or still more tersely in the brief sentence : * Zeus is the avenger of o'er-lofty thoughts, A terrible controller.' 2 The sway of the principle of Nemesis in individual experience is pithily proclaimed by ^Eschylus in these sentences : * Whatsoever evil men do, not less shall they suffer.' 1 * Doubt it not, the evil-doer must suffer. 14 * Justice from her watchful station With a sure-winged visitation Swoops, and some in blazing noon She for doom doth mark, Some in lingering eve, and some In the deedless dark.' 6 These oracles show the punitive aspect of the moral order, which is the thing chiefly insisted on by the poet. But he is not unmindful of the action of Providence in rewarding the good, however humble their station : witness this cheering reflection : 4 Haigh, The Tragic Drama of the Greeks, p. 104. a The /'crstans, 816-819 and 823-824 ; Plumptre's translation. ' Oi5 TO?? /ca/fo?s 7-6 Spa^a rov irddovs ir\tov,Agam. 533 ( vide Sales Att.\ 4 Apcuraprt drjirov K.a.1 vaQf.lv 60e{\ercu, Fabula 9 Chotphora, 61-65; Blackie's translation. THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS : NEMfcSf tf ' Justice shineth bright, In dwellings that are dark and dim with smoke, And honours life law-ruled.' 1 To call in question or deny the doctrine set forth in these and similar utterances ^schylus accounts an impiety. Hear his emphatic protest in the Agamemnon : ' One there was who said, The gods deign not to care for mortal men By whom the grace of things inviolable Is trampled under foot. No fear of God had he.' 8 The devout poet not only believes in the punish- ment of sin, but that the penalty may come in a later generation : * I tell the ancient tale Of sin that brought swift doom. Till the third age it waits.' 3 Laius sins, GEdipus his son sins and suffers, Eteocles and Polyneikes his grandsons fall by each other's hands. He believes that there is heredity of moral evil, sin propagating itself, and entailing a curse upon offspring : * But recklessness of old Is wont to breed another recklessness, Sporting its youth in human miseries, Or now, or then, whene'er the fixed hour comes.' 4 1 Agamemnon, 747-749 ; Plumptre's translation. * Ibid., 360-364; Plumptre's translation. 3 The Seven against 7hebes> 739-741 ; Plumptre's translation. 4 Agamemnon, 737-740 ; Plumptre's translation. 78 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD But he also believes that there is mercy as well as severity in the visitations of divine justice. Suffering is disciplinary as well as punitive, when rightly taken : * For Jove doth teach men wisdom, sternly wins To virtue by the tutoring of their sins. Yea ! drops of torturing recollection chill The sleeper's heart ; 'gainst man's rebellious will Jove works the wise remorse : Dread Powers ! on awful seats enthroned, compel Our hearts with gracious force.' l Wholesome doctrine all this ; but are there no exceptions, no cases of good men suffering and bad men thriving ? What ^schylus may have taught on this question in his many lost tragedies we cannot guess, but his extant plays contain one instance of a good man or demigod suffering, without, as we should judge, any sufficient reason. I refer to the Titan Prometheus, chained to a rock for thousands of years because he had been a benefactor to men. What view /Eschylus took of the remarkable legend : whether he regarded Prometheus as a real offender suffering just punishment, or as an exception to his own rule, we have not the means of deciding, as the Prometheus Bound is the second of three connected dramas on the same theme, and is the only part of the trilogy that has been preserved. Guesses have been made at the nature of the solution which would be given in the concluding part, the 1 Agamemnony 170-177; Blackie's translation. THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS : NEMESIS 79 Prometheus Unbound. Mr. Symonds holds that ^Eschylus regarded the hero as a real transgressor, that the vilification of Jove as a despot in the Prometheus Bound is to be understood in a dramatic sense, and that in the concluding play the Titan was shown to be really and gravely in the wrong ; guilty of obstinacy eminently tragic, as display- ing at once culpable aberration and at the same time the aberration of a sublime character. 1 This is a legitimate supposition, but not the only one possible. Is it not conceivable that in the final piece the poet represented Jove as adopting an apologetic rather than a self-justifying tone, as in reference to the destroying flood we find the sacred writer putting into Jehovah's mouth the words, * I will not again curse the ground any more for man's sake,' 2 and admitting that he had treated the Titan with undue severity ? Or, granting that to the end the poet held the hero to be guilty, and tried to show how, does it follow that, in the words of Mr. Symonds, 1 if we possessed the trilogy entire we should see that Prometheus had been really and grandly guilty'? 3 Might we not rather have seen the poet trying hard to prove that, and failing? What if it was a case not capable of solution on the principle of just retribution? a case, like that of Job, of too deep 1 Studies of the Greek Poets, 2nd series, pp. 173-188. * Genesis viii. 21. Syraonds' Studies of the Greek Poets, 2nd series, p. 188. &> THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD import for the Eliphaz theory to cope with, and coming under some other, deeper law ? There is a law, known to us, under which the Titan's experience might with some measure of reason be classified, the law, viz. according to which the world's greatest benefactors are the greatest sufferers. Prometheus, as exhibited by ^Eschylus, is a signal benefactor. He is what writers on primitive religions call a culture-hero, one whose vocation is to teach ignorant untutored races the rudiments of civilisation. He taught rude primitive men the use of fire stole fire from heaven for their benefit ; taught them to speak and to think ; instructed them in house-building and ship-building, in medicine, divination, and smelting ore, in the art of using the stars for fixing the order of the seasons: in short, enabled them to pass from the brutish ignor- ance of the Stone Age, as it is now called, when 'no craft they knew With woven brick or jointed beam to pile The sunward porch ; but in the dark earth burrowed And housed, like tiny ants, in sunless caves,' * to the intelligence and culture of civilised humanity. The same hero who has been such a benefactor to men had previously done signal service to Zeus, helping him in his war against Kronos and the Titans, and securing for him his celestial throne. Here surely was one who had deserved well at the 1 Prometheus Bound, 457-461 ; Blackie's translation. THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS: NEMESIS 81 hands of both gods and men ! Yet what is his fate ? To be chained for long ages to a rock in a Scythian wilderness. The attempt to show that such signal service followed by such barbarous treatment illus- trates the justice which makes conduct and lot correspond, must be desperate. One would rather say that such an experience belonged to a morally chaotic age when Zeus had not begun to be just, when in the exercise of a newly-attained sovereignty he could not afford to be either just or generous, but had to be guided in his action by selfish policy rather than by equity, treating as enemies those who had been his greatest friends. The radical defect of the legend from a moral point of view is that the reign of Zeus, the fountain of Justice, has a beginning, involving as a necessary consequence that justice has a beginning also. The divine monarch is thereby subjected to the exigencies of an Eastern despot, whose first use of power is to destroy his rivals, and also those to whom he has been much indebted. How one who was so earnest in proclaiming the reality of a just moral order as ^Eschylus could be attracted by so uncouth and grim a story, it is as difficult to understand as it is to conjecture how he treated it. Was his motive to meet an objection to his favourite theory, to answer an imaginary opponent asking : On your view, what do you make of the Prometheus legend ? And was his answer, in effect, this : * That is an old-time story ; all that happened 82 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD before the moral order was settled ; no such thing could happen now ' ? How the legend itself arose is another puzzling question. Was it a survival from savage times, modified and transformed in the long course of tradition? 1 Or had it for its fact-basis the observation that benefactors of men often have a hard lot ? The Eumenides, not less than the Prometheus Bound, possesses a peculiar interest in connection with the ^Eschylean doctrine of Nemesis. If the latter be an instance of apparently flagrant injustice belonging to a rude age before the moral order was settled, to be explained away or apologised for, the former supplies an instance illustrating the difficulty of applying the principle of retributive justice when right seems to be on both sides. Orestes slays his mother, Clytemnestra, for murdering his father, her husband, Agamemnon. He acts on the counsels of the Delphic oracle, and the Erinnyes pursue him for the deed. Divine beings take opposite sides ; Apollo advising the action, the Furies driving to madness the actor. Which of these is in the right? Is Orestes a hero or is he a criminal ? or is he both in one ? How is the principle of retributive justice to be applied? Must the scales be evenly balanced, inclining to neither side ? So it would appear, from 1 According to Lang (Myth, Ritual, and Religion, ii. 31), Mani, the culture-hero of the Maoris, stole fire from heaven, like Prometheus, for his people, among other services, such as inventing barbs for spears and hooks. THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS : NEMESIS 83 the issue of the trial of Orestes before the Areopagus in Athens, which is that the votes for acquittal and for condemnation are equal, Athene giving her casting vote in favour of the accused. The equality in the vote is significant. It is a virtual confession that there are cases in which the theory of retributive justice breaks down ; when it is impossible to say how on that theory a man is to be treated ; when he cannot be treated either as a well-doer or as an evil- doer without overlooking an essential element in the case ; and whe the only possible course is a com- promise in whicn the accused gets the benefit of the doubt. The compromise is suggested by Athene, the goddess of wisdom, who votes for Orestes and strives to appease and soothe his relentless pursuers. They, however, are characteristically reluctant to be appeased, a point of instructive import in connection with the theory of Nemesis. The Erinnyes of ^Eschylus are a marvellous creation. They are more than a powerful artistic representation of a legend- ary group of avenging deities. They possess psycho- logical significance as symbols of the punitive action of conscience. In this point of view certain features in the dramatic presentation are noteworthy. The Furies pursue Orestes, the slayer of his mother, not Clytemnestra, the murderess of his father; he being noble-minded, she thoroughly bad. 1 They 1 The formal explanation of this fact is that the Furies pursued only when the blood shed was that of kindred ; but Mr. Symonds truly 84 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD are unwilling to yield to the counsels of wisdom, repeating their wild song of relentless pursuit before yielding to the persuasions of Athene. They do at last submit. But, though constrained to surrender their victim, they are treated with great respect as a power making for righteousness justly inspiring wholesome dread. All this is a parable embodying weighty spiritual truth. The nobler the nature, the more it is liable to become the prey of an evil con- science for acts which, justifiable under a certain aspect, do violence to tender natural affection. A mother may deserve to die, but it is not for a son to be the executioner ; and if he be a man of fine nature, he cannot play that part with impunity. Maddening remorse will be the penalty. And that remorse will not be easily exorcised by wise reflec- tion on the ill desert of the dead and the irrevocable- ness of the deed. It will keep saying, You killed your mother. But remorse, though obstinate, need not be unconquerable. The greatest offender may take comfort in the thought that his sin is not unpardonable, and the time comes to many who have been in a hell of torment when they are able to grasp this consoling truth. But though now at rest, they never regret the misery they have passed through. They look back on it with satisfaction as observes that *in a deeper sense it was artistically fitting that Clytem- nestra should remain unvisiied by the dread goddesses. They were the deities of remorse, and she had steeled her soul against the stings of conscience' (Studies of the Greek Poets^ 1st series, p. 191). THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS : NEMESIS 85 an expiation for their sin. Remorse is the penalty for wrong done to the best feelings of our nature. It is penalty enough. No need for added pains to punish the man who has suffered mental agony through conflict between feelings, both in their own place good, the sense of justice and the affection of love. That agony satisfies the moral order. It is also justified by the moral order. For Orestes is indeed an offender. He should have consulted his conscience, not the Delphic oracle. No need for any other oracle than conscience to tell him that his mother must suffer for her crime by other hands than his. In passing from ^Eschylus to Sophocles we become conscious of a considerable change in the moral atmosphere. He is less of a theologian, more of an artist, than his predecessor. The human interest of his story counts for more with him than problems in ethics and religion. He does not deny the ^Eschylean theory of retribution : on the contrary, he accepts and re-echoes it, but only half-heartedly, with less depth of conviction and fainter emphasis of utterance. He sees that there are many excep- tions to the theory, many instances in which no intelligible moral law can be detected ; human experiences in which a reign of chance rather than of moral order seems to prevail. Life appears to him a mystery too deep and complex to be explained by any cut-and-dried theory such as 86 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD that which insists on a uniform correspondence between conduct and lot. Such being the attitude of Sophocles, we do not expect to find in his dramas either such splendid exemplifications, or such memorable statements, of the law of Nemesis, as we meet with in the pages of ^Eschylus. Yet sufficient, if not signal, homage is done to the law by occasional sayings such as the few samples which follow. CEdipus at Colonus thus addresses his friends : * If thou honourest the gods, show thy reverence by thine acts ; and remember that their eyes are over all men, regarding both the evil and the good.' l Creon in Antigone asks : 'Dost thou see the gods honouring evil men?** The swift punishment of wrong is proclaimed in the same drama in these terms : 'Lo, they come, the gods' swift-footed ministers of ill, And in an instant lay the wicked low.' 3 Slow punishment is hinted at in these words from (Edipus Coloneus : 'The gods see well, though slowly, when one turns from their worship to the madness of impiety.' 4 Sometimes the expression of this faith is coloured 1 (Edipus ColonZus, 277-281, translation from D'Arcy Thomson's Sales Attici. 2 Antigone, 288. * Ibid., 1104-1106; translated by Plumptrc. * (Edipus Colon Jus, 1536-9. THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS : NEMESIS 87 by a tinge of doubt. Thus Philoctetes, maddened by a sense of wrong, exclaims : * Perdition seize you all ! And it shall seize you, seeing ye have wronged Him who stands here, if yet the gods regard Or right or truth. And full assured am I They do regard them.' 1 Two different, if not incompatible, points of view are combined in these words spoken by Athene to Ulysses : ' All human things A day lays low, a day lifts up again. Yet still the gods love those of temperate mind, And hate the bad?' 2 The sombre sentiment expressed in the first sentence of this extract recurs with significant frequency in the pages of Sophocles. The fleeting, unstable nature of human fortune, irrespective of character, is a trite theme with him. Thus in CEdipus Tyrannus the chorus sing : ' Ah, race of mortal men, How as a thing of nought I count ye, though ye live ; For who is there of men That more of blessing knows, Than just a little while In a vain show to stand, And, having stood, to fall?' 8 1 Philoctttes, 1035-39. * Ajax y 130-133. 8 1186-1193; Plumptre's translation. 88 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD In a fragment preserved from an unknown drama the changefulness of life is likened to the phases of the moon : ' Human fortunes, good and ill, Never stand a moment still ; To a wheel divine they 're bound, Turning ever round and round ; The moon of our prosperity Wanes and waxes in the sky ; Plays her fickle and constant game, Aye a-changing, aye the same : See 1 her crescent of pale light Gathers beauty night by night ; Till, when sphered in perfect grace, Gradual she dims her face ; Lies anon on heaven's blue floor A silver bow, and nothing more.' l The phases of the moon, however brief their period, still run through a regular course. The misery of human life, as depicted by Sophocles, includes sub- jection to the caprice of chance not less than to periodic change. The Messenger in Antigone thus delivers his opinion : ' I know no life of mortal man which I Would either praise or blame. It is but chance That raiseth up, and chance that bringeth low, The man who lives in good or evil plight, And none foretells a man's appointed lot.' 2 In a fragment from a lost drama, one of the 1 Fabula Incerta, translated by D'Arcy Thomson in Sales Attici % p. 81. 8 1156-1160; translated by Plumptrc. THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS: NEMESIS 89 dramatis persona sums up his philosophy of life in these pithy terms : * Say not them of weal or woe : 'Tis big, or little, or not at all : For mortal blessings come and go, As flit sun-shadows athwart a wall.' 1 This is dismal enough : human experience without any traceable order or law, given up to the dominion of hazard, so that anything may happen to any man at any moment. But there is something more dismal still : human experience subject to an evil order, re- versing the awards of the moral order, and assigning prosperity and adversity with sinister indifference to desert. That our poet was keenly alive to the existence of phenomena of this sort appears from another fragment out of the same drama from which our last quotation is taken. I give it in the version supplied by Mr. Symonds : * 'Tis terrible that impious men, the sons Of sinners, even such should thrive and prosper, While men by virtue moulded, sprung from sires Complete in goodness, should be born to suffer. Nay, but the gods do ill in dealing thus With mortals ! It were well that pious men Should take some signal guerdon at their hands; But evil-doers, on their heads should fall Conspicuous punishment for deeds ill-done. Then should no wicked man fare well and flourish.' * These sentiments concerning the changefulness and chancefulness and moral confusion of life make, 1 Aletes : Thomson's translation ; rather free. * Symonds, Studies of the Greek Poets > 2nd series, p. 273, 90 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD on the whole, a depressing impression. They arc pessimistic in tone, though it is not to be supposed that the poet had any intention to teach a full-blown pessimistic theory. He took life as he found it ; and fie found it dark enough, so dark that in gloomy moments a thoughtful man might be tempted to doubt whether it were worth living. A reflection of this despairing mood may be found in these lines from a choral ode in (Edipus at Colonus : 4 Happiest beyond compare Never to taste of life ; Happiest in order next, Being born, with quickest speed Thither again to turn From whence we came.' * And in this from The Maidens of Trachis : * On two short days, or more, our hopes are vain ; The morrow is as nought, till one shall show The present day in fair prosperity.' * Yet we must never forget that the man who made his dramatic characters utter such sombre sentiments, also put into the mouth of Antigone that grand de- claration concerning the eternal unwritten laws of God that know no change, and are not of to-day nor yesterday, and that must be obeyed in preference to the temporary commandments of men. 3 One who believes in these eternal laws of duty, as expressing the inmost mind of deity, and that reckons com- 1 1223-1228; Plumptre's translation. 1 943-946 ; Plumptre's translation. 8 Antigone, 455-459- THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS: NEMESIS 91 pliance with them at all hazards the supreme obligation, cannot with propriety be classed with pessimists, though that Antigone should suffer for her loyalty to these sovereign behests may appear to him a great mystery. If he does not understand Antigone's fate, he at least sees in it a moral sublimity which redeems life from worthlessness and vulgarity. Nay, the nobleness of her self-sacrifice seems to bring him to the threshold of a great discovery : that such a life cannot be wasted, but must possess redemptive value. What but this is the meaning of these words spoken to Antigone by her father CEdipus : ' One soul acting in the strength of love, is better than a thousand to atone.' 1 A single utterance like this may not justify the con- clusion that the poet had fully grasped the principle of vicarious atonement, but it does show that the idea was beginning to dawn on his mind. It is now, happily, quite unnecessary to waste time in defending Euripides against the prejudiced criticism of scholars who, taking Sophocles as the model, see in him nothing but artistic blemishes, or the still more prejudiced diatribes of religious philosophers who, biassed by pet theories, see in him nothing but an impious scoffer. We can afford to smile at the oracular verdict pronounced upon him 1 Vide Plumptre's ' Essay on the Life and Writings of Sophocles,* vol. i. of his translation, pp. Ixxvii.-xcix. 92 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD by Bunsen, that his theory of the universe is that of Candide, and that the religion of ^Eschylus and Sophocles was as repugnant to him as that of the Psalms and Prophets was to Voltaire. 1 The man whose dramatic productions have been a delight to poets like Milton, Goethe, and Browning, can dispense with the patronage of learned critics ; and as for his religious and ethical bent, it is sufficiently guaranteed by the fact of his belonging to the Socratic circle. It will be well to come to the study of his sentiments on the topics which concern us with this fact in our minds, and to remember that when a play of Euripides was to be put upon the stage Socrates was ever likely to be one of the spectators. Euripides was doubtless a sceptic in reference to the mythology of Greece, but that in no way impugns the sincerity and depth of his ethical and religious convictions. He believed in God if not in the gods, he reverenced moral law, and he had no doubt as to the reality of a moral order, though it may be that he did not rest his faith therein on the same religious foundation as ^Eschylus. It may be well to offer a few vouchers of this last statement before going on to notice the more distinctive con- 1 God in History ', ii. 224. For a chillingly unappreciative estimate of Euripides vide Religion in Greek Literature, by Dr. Lewis Campbell, 1898. According to this author, Euripides was simply a melodramatist whose task was rather to interest than to instruct ; his connection or sympathy with Socrates is regarded as d ubtful ; the examples of self- devotion which brighten his pages are spoken of as recurring 'with almost monotonous frequency.' THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS : NEMESIS 93 tribution of this great Master of song to the doctrine of Providence. The Hercules Furens contains an explicit testimony to the Power-not-ourselves making for righteousness. Just before, it is true, the chorus have made a rather profane and senseless complaint that the gods have not given to the good, as the unmistakable stamp of their worth, the privilege of being a second time young, so that they might be as easily recognised as the stars at sea by sailors. 1 But for this incon- siderate outburst the poet makes ample amends by putting into the mouths of the chorus this distinct confession of faith in the moral order : * The gods from on high regard the wicked and the good. Wealth and prosperity try the hearts of men, and lead them on to the ways of unrighteousness ; For he that is prosperous saith within himself: surely the evil days will never come : Therefore driveth he furiously in the race; and heedeth not the limits of the course ; And he striketh his wheel against a stone of stumbling ; and dasheth in pieces the chariot of his prosperity.' 2 This also from Ion has the ring of conviction in it. It is the last word in a drama replete with beautiful wise thought : * Let the man who worships the divine beings be of good cheer, when his house is visited with misfortune. For in the end the worthy obtain their deserts and the wicked, as is meet, shall not prosper.' 3 1 Hercules Furens, 646-660. 8 Ibid. t 753-760; Thomson's translation. * Ion, 1620-1623. 94 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD Artemis in Hippolytus declares that ' the gods have no pleasure in the death of the righteous, but they destroy the wicked with their children and homes.' 1 Euripides is familiar with such great truths of the moral order as these : that confession takes a burden off the heart, 2 and that in all human thought and action God co-operates.* But it is specially to be noted that he has some insight into the 'method of inwardness/ a glimpse, that is to say, of the truth that the rewards and punishments of human conduct are to be sought not merely or chiefly in the sphere of outward life, but in the state of the heart. He understands, at least dimly, that to be spiritually- minded is life and peace. Witness this hymn of Hippolytus to Artemis : * For thee this woven garland from a mead Unsullied have I twined, O Queen, and bring. There never shepherd dares to feed his flock, Nor steel of sickle came : only the bee Roveth the springtide mead undesecrate : And Reverence watereth it with river-dews. They which have heritage of self-control In all things, not taught, but the pure in heart These there may gather flowers, but none impure. Now Queen, dear Queen, receive this anadem, From reverent hand to deck thy golden hair ; For to me sole of men this grace is given That I be with thee, converse hold with thee, Hearing thy voice, yet seeing not thy face. And may I end life's race as I began.' 4 1 Hippolytus, 1329-30. 3 Ion, 874-6. Supplier, 736-8. 4 Hippolytus, 73-87. The translation is by Arthur S. Way, The Tragedies of Euripides in English Verse, vol. i. p. 127. THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS: NEMESIS 95 That the penalty of wrongdoing is also to be sought within seems to be hinted at in this fragment from a lost drama : * Think you that sins leap up to heaven aloft On wings, and then that on Jove's red-leaved tablets Some one doth write them, and Jove looks at them In judging mortals ? Not the whole broad heaven, If Jove should write our sins, would be enough, Nor he suffice to punish them. But Justice Is here, is somewhere near us.' 1 These extracts seem to bring us within measur- able distance of New Testament ethics. But we get nearer still to Christian thought along a different path. The light of that day whose dim dawn we descried in Sophocles shines on the pages of Euripides. He sees the glory and the power of self-sacrifice. He understands that the good man's life is not self-centred, but rather is a fountain of benefit to all around. In the Children of Hercules y which contains one of the most signal examples of sacrifice, he opens with this sentiment put into the mouth of lolaus, the nephew of Hercules : * This has long been my opinion : the just man lives for his neighbours, but the man whose mind is bent on gain is useless to the city, hard to conciliate, good only to himself.' The novelty of this point of view living for others the mark of goodness may be seen by comparing 1 Fragment from Mdanippe t translation from Symonds, 2nd series, p. 293. 96 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD the behaviour of Iphigenia, daughter of Agamemnon, when she is being sacrificed at Aulis, as described by ^Eschylus, with the account given of the same scene by Euripides. In the Agamemnon of the earlier poet the sacrificed maiden is simply a reluctant victim, casting at those who offered her to the gods a piteous, piercing glance, and unable, though wishing, to speak. 1 In the Iphigenia in Aulis of Euripides, on the other hand, the daughter of King Agamemnon, after a struggle with natural feeling, rises at length to the heroic mood of self-devotion, and seeks to reconcile her outraged mother to the inevitable by such argu- ments as these : Greece looks to me ; on me depends the prosperous voyage of the fleet to Troy and the destruction of that city; I shall have the happy renown of having saved my country ; I may not be too attached to life, for as a common boon to the Greeks, not for yourself only, you bore me. 2 The opportunity it affords him of exemplifying this mood is the chief, if not sole, source of the poet's interest in the whole story. He has no faith in the oracles of soothsayers which pronounced the sacrifice necessary, no faith in the gods who demanded it, no faith in its efficacy, no faith even in its reality ; for in his presentation of the legend the victim is rescued and appears afterwards as a priestess in Tauris. But he has faith in self-sacrifice as the highest virtue, and he loses no opportunity of 1 Agamemnon, 230-235. * Iphigenia in Aulis, I347-'3 6 S' THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS: NEMESIS 97 eulogising it, as in the instances of Menoekeus in the Phcemssce, who, in accordance with the prophecy of Tiresias, kills himself to save Thebes, 1 and of Polyxena in Hecuba? The most pathetic instances, however, are those of Macaria and Alcestis. In the case of Macaria, the daughter of Hercules, the element of voluntariness is very conspicuous. The oracle demands that some one shall die, but does not indicate the particular victim. Theseus, though willing now, as at all times, to defend the cause of the innocent, refuses to give any of his family as a sacrifice for the Heraclidae. In this crisis Macaria comes to the rescue and offers herself. lolaus, guardian of the children of Hercules, approves her spirit, but to soften the rigour of a hard fate proposes that the victim should be determined by lot. To which Macaria replies in these remarkable terms : ' I will not die by lot, for there is no merit in that. Do not speak of it, old man. But if ye choose to take me, ready as I am, I willingly give my life for these, but not under compulsion.' 3 The most signal example of self-sacrificing love is supplied in the beautiful tale of Alcestis related in the tragedy of the same name. Admetus, king of Pherae, in Thessaly, is sick and about to die. Apollo, who had formerly served the king as a 1 The Phoenician Damsels, 990-1015. 2 Vide lines 339-375. Heraclida, 547-557- G 98 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD herdsman, in reward for past kindness asks and obtains from the Fates a respite for Admetus, on condition that he find some one willing to die for him. The king asks all his friends in turn to do him this service, but in vain. At last his wife, Alcestis, hearing how matters stand, offers to grant the boon all others had refused. She sickens and dies accordingly. Hercules arrives shortly after, and, on learning what has happened, goes to the tomb of the deceased, brings her back to life and restores her to her husband. In his Symposium Plato alludes to this story as illustrating the doctrine that love is ever ready to do anything that may be required of it for the good of the object loved, even to die in its behalf (vTrepaTToOvrjcriceiv). He could not have chosen a better example. Love was the sole motive of Alcestis. She does not nerve herself to the need- ful pitch of heroic fortitude by considerations of patriotism or posthumous fame. She makes no fuss about the matter, nor does the poet make it for her. She is not brought on the stage resolving to die, and telling what has helped her to adopt such a resolution. The curtain is lifted on a woman lying sick on a couch. She speaks but once, to bid farewell to her husband, and to utter her last wishes. Her praises are sung for her, not by her. An attendant relates with enthusiasm her behaviour on the morning of her last day, in terms of exquisite THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS: NEMESIS 99 pathos. The choral odes referring to her noble action are singularly beautiful. One declares that Alcestis will be a theme of song to the poets of Greece in all after ages ; another sings of the inevitable dominion of death, and then of the consolations of posthumous fame in these glowing terms : 1 Deem not she sleeps like those devoid of fame, Unconscious in the lap of earth ; Such homage as the gods from mortals claim Each traveller shall pay her matchless worth, Digressing from his road ; and these bold thoughts, Expressed in no faint language, utter o'er her grave : " She died to save her Lord, and now She dwells among the blest. Hail, Sainted Matron ! and this realm befriend."-' * The love of Alcestis is beautiful, but the occasion of her self-sacrifice does not command our respect. Indeed, none of the occasions of self-sacrifice in the dramas of Euripides do this. They are, in other instances, the result of superstition ; in the one before us, of selfishness. Why could Admetus not die himself, after having lived sufficiently long? Probably Euripides had no more respect for the occasion than we have; no more respect, I may add, than he had for the legend that Alcestis was brought back to life by Hercules. There is probably truth in the view of Mr. Verrall that the poet did not believe that Alcestis was really dead. 2 His 1 Alcestis, 1007-1014 ; Wodhull's translation. Cf. Way's translation in The Tragedies of Euripides in English Verse , vol. i. p. 51. 2 Verrall's Euripides the Rationalist, p. 75. ioo THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD point was that Alcestis was willing to die. And as for the occasions of self-sacrifice, he took this one, and all the rest, as they were furnished to him by tradition. They were welcome as giving him the opportunity of preaching his favourite doctrine that the spirit of self-devotion is the soul of goodness. This doctrine was an important contribution to ethics. How far Euripides was aware of the extent to which life afforded natural and most real oppor- tunities for the display of the self-sacrificing temper of love we have no means of knowing. It may be assumed that it was a subject possessing keen interest to his mind, and that he was a close observer of all illustrative phenomena. It may also be assumed that in utilising the traditional data supplied by heroic legends he had something more important and specific in view than to illustrate the ' pluck,' as it has been called (eityi^ia), of Greek men and women. 1 Not the physical virtue of ' pluck,' though that element might have its place, but the high moral virtue of self-devotion, was his theme. And, seeing that virtue awakened in his soul such an ardent enthusiasm, he could not have found it hard to believe that a moral order which afforded large scope for its exercise was not an evil order but rather a beneficent one, which might have been 1 Symonds, Studies of the Greek Poets, is. series, p. 212. Mr. Symonds sees in the value set on eityi/xfa by Euripides a reflection of the advancing tendencies of philosophy containing the germ of the Stoical doctrine of Kaprepia. THE GREEK TRAGEDIANS: NEMESIS ici appointed by a benignant deity. It has indeed been denied that Euripides had any such belief, while his merit in proclaiming the vicarious nature of love is fully acknowledged. Professor Watson remarks : ' It is only in Euripides that we find something like an anticipation of the Christian idea that self-realisation is attained through self- sacrifice. In Euripides, however, this result is reached by a surrender of his faith in divine justice. Man, he seems to say, is capable of heroic self- sacrifice, at the prompting of natural affection, but this is the law of human nature, not of the divine nature. Thus in him morality is divorced from religion, and therefore there is over all his work the sadness which inevitably follows from a sceptical distrust of the existence of any objective principle of goodness.' 1 I am not satisfied that this is a well-grounded judgment. The spirit of Euripides, I believe, was the spirit of Socrates, the martyr, and the devout believer in a beneficent deity. There may be sadness in his writings, but there is neither cynicism nor pessimism. An admirer of heroic love cannot be a pessimist. He sees in love's sacrifice not merely the darkest, but the brightest feature in the world's history. All that is needed to make him an optimist is that he have faith in a God in harmony with his own ethical creed : admiring self- sacrifice ; yea, himself capable of it. That Euripides 1 Christianity and Idealism^ p. 39. 102 THE* MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD had fully found such a God I do not assert. That he was on the way to the discovery I cannot doubt. The idea of God as the absolutely good was familiar to the Socratic circle, as we learn from the Dialogues of Plato, and such a man as Euripides could neither be unacquainted with it nor fail to perceive its value. It is true that in his pages, as in those of his brother- dramatists, the dark shadow of a morally indifferent Fate (Molpa) now and then makes its appearance, as in these lines : * A bow of steel is hard to bend, And stern a proud man's will ; But Fate, that shapeth every end, Is sterner, harder still ; E'en God within the indented groove Of Fate's resolve Himself must move.' 1 This utterance points to a species of dualism, a conflict between a benignant Providence and a blind force which exercises sway over both gods and men. There is a dualism in Plato also. A certain in- tractableness in matter resists the will of the Good Spirit so that he cannot make the world perfect, but only as good as possible. 2 But the thing to be thank- ful for in Plato is the clear perception that the will of God is absolutely good, if his power be limited. Euripides also, I think, had a glimpse of this truth. 1 D'Arcy Thomson's Safes Attici, p. 213, based on a chorus in the Alcestis (962-981). For a literal translation vide Way, The Tragedies of Euripides, vol. i. p. 49. Vide Lecture X. LECTURE IV THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE THE system of thought and the way of life which go by the name of Stoicism constitute a pheno- menon not less remarkable in its fashion than the ethical wisdom of the great Greek tragedians. Zeno, Cleanthes, and Chrysippus, the founders of the school of the porch, are in some respects as notable a triad as ^Eschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. Their dis- tinction, however, lies, not like that of the three poets, in literary genius, but in moral intensity. Their thoughts of God, man, duty, and destiny, and the life in which these found practical embodiment, present the best religious product of Greek philo- sophy. There is room indeed for doubt whether that philosophy can be credited with the exclusive parent- age of so worthy an offspring. The influence of Socrates is of course very manifest in the ethical spirit of the Stoics. But something more than Socrates seems to be discernible there: something new, foreign; a stern temper in striking contrast to Hellenic lightheartedness ; a seriousness reminding 103 104 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD us more of the gravity of a Hebrew prophet than of the gaiety of a Greek philosopher. This first impression is seen to be more than a passing fancy when it is considered that the early masters and scholars of Stoicism were actually, for the most part, strangers from the East, and not a few of them natives of Semitic towns or colonies. Zeno, the first founder, was from Citium, a Phoenician colony in Cyprus, and he commonly went by the name of ' the Phoenician,' a fact which bears witness to his Semitic origin. Thus the hypothesis readily suggests itself that race enters as a factor in the genesis of Stoicism, that the peculiarities of this new phase of Greek philosophy are the unmistakable product of Semitic genius. This view has been adopted and earnestly advocated by such competent writers as Sir Alexander Grant 1 and Bishop Light- foot. 2 Their high authority cannot lightly be dis- regarded ; but if we do not feel able to share their confidence as to the certainty of this racial theory, we shall do well at least to lay to heart the ethical affinity which it is adduced to explain. The Stoic temper and the Semitic temper are kindred. The Stoic philosophy is, so to speak, Hebrew wisdom transplanted into Greek soil ; like the latter, intensely ethical in spirit, and practical in tendency. In both we discern the same leading characteristics : ' the 1 Vide his Ethics of Aristotle, 3rd edition, vol. i. Essay VI. 1 Vide his St. Paul's Epistle to t/n Philippians, Dissertation IL THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE 105 recognition of the claims of the individual soul, the sense of personal responsibility, the habit of judicial introspection, in short the subjective view of ethics.' 1 Stoicism was at once intensely ethical and in- tensely individualistic. It contemplated the universe from the view-point of the individual man, and the thing of supreme interest for it in the individual man was his moral consciousness. The latter feature, as we have seen, may be traced partly to the in- fluence of Socrates, partly to the influence of the Semitic spirit ; the former was the natural result of the complete breakdown of the political life of Greece due to the Macedonian conquest. It is necessary to note the time at which the Stoical movement made its appearance. Like all great spiritual movements, it came when the world was prepared for it and needed it. It was the offspring of despair in more senses than one, but very specially of political despair. When public life offered no opportunities, what could a thoughtful man do but retire within himself, and concentrate his energies on the discipline of his own spirit? And yet the same circumstances which brought about this con- traction of interest led also to a great expansion. If the glory of Greece had vanished, humanity re- mained ; in place of the city, the philosopher had the wide world as a home for his soul. And so it 1 Lightfoot on Philippians, p. 272. 106 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD came to pass that the system of thought which most worthily met the need of the time was cosmopolitan in spirit as well as individualistic. The Stoic, while intensely conscious of himself as a moral personality, was also not less conscious of belonging to a great human brotherhood. It has been reckoned among the contradictions of Stoicism that, 'with the hardest and most uncompromising isolation of the individual, it proclaims the most expansive view of his relations to all around.' 1 In reality, however, these two con- trasted qualities are but complementary aspects of the same fundamental point of view. The ethical is universal ; the ethical individual is but a particular embodiment of that which constitutes the essential element common to humanity. The same combina- tion of individualism with universalism appears in the later prophetic literature of Israel under similar out- ward circumstances, national misfortune opening the eyes of Hebrew seers and Greek sages alike to the inner world of the soul and the outer world of mankind. Stoicism was not the only philosophy in Greece at the beginning of the third century before the Christian era. Philosophic activity in the post- Aristotelian period gave rise to three rival schools that of the Stoics, that of the Epicureans, and that of the Sceptics. All three had the same fundamental characteristic of subjectivity, retirement within the self, and the same general temper of self-sufficiency, 1 Bishop Lightfoot on Philippians, p. 296. THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE 107 or independence of outward things. The two first- named schools, to confine our attention to them, differed in their conception of the chief good. The Stoics placed it in virtue, the Epicureans in free- dom from disagreeable feelings, or, in one word, in Pleasure. The mere co-existence of a school having 'pleasure' for its watchword lends added emphasis and significance to the Stoic position. It is not necessary to judge severely the philosophers of the garden, and to impute to them all the abuses to which their leading tenet too easily gave rise. Epicurus did not undervalue virtue; he maintained that there could be no true pleasure dissociated from virtue. Seneca states the point at issue between him and the masters of the porch in these terms, 'whether virtue be the cause of the highest good, or itself the highest good.' 1 With the Stoics he espouses the latter alternative, and repudiates with indignation not merely the placing of virtue under pleasure, as a lower category and mere means to pleasure as an end, but the comparing of virtue with pleasure at all. ' Virtue,' he says, ' is the despiser and enemy of pleasure ; leaping away as far as possible from it, it is more at home with labour and pain than with that effeminate good.' 2 The Roman representative of Stoicism may be accepted as a true interpreter of the respective attitudes of the two opposed systems. Taking them 1 De BeneficiiS) lib. IV. cap. ii. 2 Eodem loco. io8 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD at his estimate, one cannot but feel that the Stoic, whatever his defects, has the nobler bearing. Much depends on what you put first. It is a great thing to say : virtue, duty, is first ; especially when you know that others are saying something very different. Then your doctrine means : virtue first, all else, whatever is comprehended under enjoyment, second ; virtue first and at all hazards, be the consequences what they may ; pleasure or pain, it is all one. This is a heroic programme, and the man who is able to carry it out will certainly live to better purpose than the man whose programme is : enjoyment the summum bonum, but enjoyment obtained on the most rational and virtuous methods possible. The Stoic, while sternly opposed to making plea- sure the chief good, did not refuse it a place, under any form, in human experience. He held, however, that the only pleasure or happiness worth having was that connected with right conduct. Virtue, in his view, was its own reward, and vice its own penalty. Virtue is self-sufficient ; nothing else is needed to make a wise man happy. This doctrine makes the wise man entirely independent of every- thing outside his own will. The good man is satisfied from himself, and perfectly free from all dependence on outward good. Outward goods, so- called, are really things indifferent. There is nothing good but the absolute good, a good will ; nothing evil but the absolute evil, an evil will. Health, THE STOICS : PROVIDENCE 109 riches, honour, life, however much valued by ordinary men, fall under the category of the indifferent, for every one who knows the secret of the blessed life. 1 This view of outward good kills passion. The passions are the result of wrong estimates of external good and evil. From the irrational estimate of present good arises the passion of pleasurable feeling, of future good that of desire ; out of a false conception of present evil comes sorrow, and of future evil, fear. 2 The wise man, subject to no illusions, is passionless. He feels pain, but, not regarding it as an evil, he suffers neither torment nor fear; he may be despised and evil-treated, but he cannot be disgraced ; he is without vanity, be- cause honour and shame touch him not ; he is not subject to the passion of anger, nor does he need this irrational affection as an aid to valour ; he is even devoid of sympathy, for why should he pity others for experiences which are matters of indiffer- ence to himself? 3 Nothing is more characteristic of Stoicism than this doctrine of apathy as the distinctive mood of wisdom. Mr. Huxley tells us that he finds it difficult to discover any very great difference between 1 Zeno reckoned among the &8idopa life, death, honour, dishonour, pain, pleasure, riches, poverty, disease, health, and the like. Vide Stobseus, Eclogce, vol. ii. 92. 2 The Stoics, with Zeno at their head, reckoned desire, fear, pain, and pleasure the four chief passions. Vide Stobaeus, Ecloga^ ii. 166. 3 7<& Zeller, Die Philosophie der Griecheit, iii. pp. 216, 217, where vouchers for these details are given. no THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD the Apatheia of the Stoics and the Nirvana of Buddhists. 1 The one does readily suggest the other to our minds, and the two words do denote states of soul essentially the same. But the calm retreat of passionless peace is reached by different paths in the two systems. It is a case of extremes meet- ing, a common result arrived at by entirely opposite interpretations of life, that of the Buddhist being pessimistic, while that of the Stoic was optimistic. Life is full of misery, said the Buddhist ; from birth to death human existence is one long unbroken experience of sorrow and vexation of spirit, there- fore extinguish desire and so escape finally and for ever from pain. The so-called ills of life, said the Stoic, do not deserve the name ; the so-called goods of life are no better entitled to the designation: treat all alike with disdain and so possess your soul in serenity. The relation of the two systems to objects of desire is diverse. Buddhism is ascetic, ever engaged in the work of extirpating desire. Stoicism finds its inner satisfaction 'in ignoring not in mortifying desires.' The Stoic's attitude is ' non- chalance, the charter of his self-sufficiency.' 2 The diversity in temper goes along with a corresponding diversity of view in regard to the universe at large. The Buddhist deemed the existence of the world, 1 Evolution and Ethics^ p. 76. * Vide Kendall's translation of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus to Him- self, introduction, p. xlii. (1898). THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE in as of the individual man, an evil. As a man is born because he has done wrong in a previous state of existence, so the world exists to afford scope for the law of moral retribution displaying itself in the apportionment of rewards and penalties. The Stoic, on the other hand, took an optimistic view of the world. He believed in the rationality of the uni- verse. Therefore he defined virtue alternatively as living according to our own reason, or as living in accordance with the nature of things, in harmony with the laws of the cosmos. The Buddhist view of birth and death as evils, and penalties of sin, would never enter his mind, or seem other than an absurdity if suggested by another person. He would have said : birth and death both belong to the universal order, therefore they are not evil. The natural order was to be accepted loyally, without demur. The will of nature, said Epictetus, can be learned from what is common to all. How do we take the death of another man's wife or child ? We say it is human. Say the same as to your own. 1 Faith in nature, with frank submission to its appoint- ments, was part of the piety of Stoicism. This faith, as held by the Stoics, was associated with and buttressed by a physico-theological system of thought. Though before all things practical, ethical philosophers, they had their science of nature, which was at the same time their theology. Their 1 Enchiridion^ cxxxiii. Hi ?HE MORAL 0&t)ER OF HE WORLD physics were not original, being to a very large extent simply an appropriation of the opinions of the pre-Socratic philosopher Heraclitus, who taught that fire, or aether, was the original substance of the universe, identified this primaeval fire with God, to whom he ascribed the properties at once of matter and of mind, and represented the history of the world as a gradual transformation of the primaeval fire into the elements, and of the elements into the primaeval fire ; that is, as consisting in an endless alternation of world - making and world - burning. The theological aspect of this cosmological specula- tion is what chiefly concerns us. In the hands of the Stoics the resulting idea of God is a strange mixture of Materialism, Pantheism, and Theism. God, like all things that really exist, is material and the source of all matter. He is one with the world which is evolved out of His essence, as in the theory of Spinoza ; God and Nature are the same thing under different aspects. Yet, unlike Spinoza, the Stoics introduced into their idea of God theistic elements reminding us of the characteristic concep- tions of Socrates, who regarded the world teleo- logically, plied the argument from design for the existence of a good God, and asserted the reality of a benignant providential order, having man for the special object of its care. In these respects the Stoics were disciples of Socrates, as in their physics they were followers of Heraclitus. THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE 113 Accustomed as we, in modern times, are to sharply defined contrasts between materialistic, pantheistic, and theistic theories, we are apt to wonder how such heterogeneous elements could ever have been brought together in even the crudest attempt to form an idea of God. Unless we be on our guard we may draw from the materialism of the Stoics very mistaken and prejudicial inferences as to their view of Deity, confounding them with those who cherish a purely mechanical idea of the universe and have no faith in the exceptional significance of man arising out of his spiritual nature ; whereas, in truth, as to these vital questions their creed was the same as that held by modern theists. The two forms of materialism, as has been pointed out by a French writer on Stoicism, are not only distinct, but of opposite tendency. ' While the materialism of our day wishes to recognise the existence of the corporeal and sensible only, to get rid for ever of the ideal realities and inaccessible essences, the physics of the Stoics made everything material in fear lest the spiritual realities should vanish. The modern materialist says : " All is body, therefore thought is nothing but a mode of body." The Stoic said: " All is body, and thought being corporeal is a substance, more subtle without doubt, but as real as are the objects our senses perceive." It is not to withdraw the world from the watchful authority of a sovereign intelligence, but rather to FT H4 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD give to that supreme reason efficacious power every- where present that the Stoics conceived God as co-extensive with the universe.' 1 We must take ancient thought about God as we find it, looking indulgently on the materialistic dross, and giving full value to the theistic gold. If we keep in view the Semitic origin of the founders of Stoicism, we shall remember that speculative con- sistency was not to be expected of them, and that ethical wisdom was more in their line than cosmo- logical theory. It is difficult to say in what precise relation such theory as they did promulgate stood to the ethical doctrines which constitute the chief ground of their claim to serious consideration at this date. Did the ethical system, first formulated, create a desire for a congruous and confirmatory theory of the universe, or did the masters of the school bring to their ethical studies such a theory cut-and-dried, and always at hand to give direction to thought in the answering of puzzling questions? Were ethical problems first solved and then God conceived in harmony with the solutions, or was the idea of God first fixed, then employed to control moral judg- ments? The question has special interest in reference to the Stoic doctrine concerning things indifferent. That doctrine seems a paradox, and it is natural to ask, Would the men who promulgated 1 F. Ogereau, Essai sur le Systhne Philosophique des Stoicitns, p. 297. THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE 115 it have adopted so extreme a position as that pain, disease, privation, dishonour, are not evils, unless they had been required to do so by their theological creed ? Was it not a case of a priori reasoning ? ' The soul of the world is just ; the world in all its arrangements is rational, because the work of a Supreme Reason. The Providence of God, like God Himself, must be perfect ; therefore it must ever be well with the good ; therefore human happiness must depend on the state of the soul, not on outward experiences, which, whether pleasant or the reverse, are to be regarded as of no account.' That they argued thus is not inconceivable. But it is against this view that in their doctrine of the indifferent the Stoics were not original any more than in their materialistic physics, or in their teleological concep- tion of the world. In this, as in some other im- portant respects, they were disciples of the Cynics. Speaking generally, the Stoics were original in the spirit rather than in the matter of their teaching. They borrowed freely from all preceding schools, and blended the separate contributions into a harmonious system under the inspiration of their characteristic moral enthusiasm. This fervour saved them from being pure eclectics, and converted what might otherwise have been a mere patchwork o opinions into a living organism of thought, in which all parts of the system acted and reacted on each other. When the body of Stoical doctrine is thus n6 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD conceived, the question above formulated is super- seded. It is no longer a question of exclusive action of the ethics on the theology, or of the theology on the ethics. Each in turn influenced the other. Be- lief in a benignant Providence confirmed the doctrine of the adiaphora> and this doctrine made that beliei easier. Assuming that such a relation of interaction existed between the doctrines of Providence and of things indifferent in the minds of the Stoical teachers, we may regard them as making an important con- tribution to the solution of the problem, How is the providential order to be justified in view of the facts of human experience ? It is an anticipation of what Mr. Matthew Arnold calls the Christian ' method of inwardness'; the method, that is to say, of seeking happiness within, in the state of the heart, rather than without in the state of fortune. The Stoics taught : It must always be well with the good man ; his felicity lies in a well-ordered mind, which is life and peace. The outward ills which befall him are of little account ; at the worst, they are light, easily tolerable afflictions. This is obviously a decided advance upon the Old Testament view, whether we have regard to the more ancient theory championed by Eliphaz in the Book of Job, according to which outward lot and conduct uniformly correspond no innocent person perishing or to the modified con- ceptions of prophets like Jeremiah, which recognised THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE 117 suffering on the part of the righteous as a fact, but as a fact full of mystery and furnishing ground for surprise and complaint. 1 It is equally an advance on the ideas of the elder Greek tragedians, ^Eschylus and Sophocles, which correspond respectively to those of Eliphaz and Jeremiah. It falls short, on the other hand, of the lofty thought enunciated in the oracles of the second Isaiah, and re-echoed by Euripides, that the sufferings of the good are not a dismal fate involuntarily endured, but the free self- sacrifice of love cheerfully offered for the benefit of others. 2 Stoicism had not humanity enough to rise to such a conception. Even when recognising the existence of such instances of heroism, it would look rather to the benefit accruing to the hero himself than to that accruing to others. In discoursing on the benefits derivable from all external ills, even death, Epictetus uses as an illustration the story of Menoekeus, on which he makes this comment : 'Think you, Mencekeus reaped little benefit when he devoted himself to death ? Did he not preserve his piety towards his country, his magnanimity, his fidelity, his generosity? Had he preferred to live would he not have lost all these, and acquired in- stead the opposite vices cowardice, meanspiritcd- ness, lack of patriotism, ignoble love of life ? ' 3 The point made is, in its own place, not unimportant. It 1 Vide Lectures VI. and VII. 2 Vide Lecture III. * Dissertationes, Book iii. c. 20, I. n8 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD is something to be able to say that outward ill, so far from robbing the good of happiness, may even promote the increase of that happiness by strength- ening the virtue which is the sole fountain of all true felicity. But when that alone is said in connection with instances of self-sacrifice, a lesson is missed of far greater importance for the vindication of the providential order than the merely homeward-bound view of affliction as useful to the individual sufferer. The method of inwardness, as pursued by the Stoics, is open to the objection that it makes the way to peace too much of a short cut. They minimised unduly the outward ills of life. It sounds very philosophic to say : To the good no real evil can happen, as to the evil no real good ; and to ply the sorrow-laden with such admonitions as these: 'A son has died ; it depends not on the will of man, therefore it is not an evil. Caesar has condemned you an involuntary event, therefore not evil ; you have been led to prison so be it. Jove has done all these things well, because he has made you able to bear such things, made you magnanimous, provided that no real evil should be in such experiences, made it possible for you to be happy in spite of such experiences.' 1 Men within the school might make themselves believe that such considerations were con- clusive, but those outside could not be expected to acquiesce. It is not reasonable to ask men to accept 1 Epictetus, Dissertationes, iii. 8. THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE 119 bereavement, condemnation by a judicial tribunal, imprisonment, as matters of indifference, because involuntary so far as the sufferer is concerned. Men naturally wish to know how such events are to be construed with reference to the will of the Supreme. And when it is considered that the masters of the school were wont to point to suicide as a door of escape always open for the unhappy, it becomes doubtful if even they were satisfied with their own philosophy. Why fly from life if outward ill be illusory? If there be a benignant Providence at work in human experience, why not live on through all possible experience, rejoicing evermore, praying without ceasing, in everything giving thanks? Dissatisfaction with the Stoic justification of Providence finds forcible expression in Cicero's De Natura Deorum, where, after the creed of the porch has been sympathetically expounded by one inter- locutor, Balbus, another, Cotta, is introduced sharply criticising it. Among the trains of reflection put into Cotta's mouth the following has a prominent place. If the gods really care for the human race they ought to make all men good ; at least they ought to look after the interest of those who are good. But do they? Is it not the fact that there are many instances of good men suffering undeserved calamity, and of bad men prospering? The argu- ment winds up with the remark : * Time would fail if I wished to recount the examples of good men over- 120 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD taken with bad fortune and of evil men favoured with good fortune.' Of course the case of Socrates receives prominent mention. 'What,' asks the sceptic, * shall I say of Socrates, whose death, as I read, always brings the tears into my eyes? Surely if the gods pay any attention to human affairs they exercise very little discrimination.' 1 Here is the age-long problem of the sufferings of the righteous stated, if not solved in the pages of the philosophic Roman orator. The early Stoics, far from solving the problem, hardly even stated it, their exaggerated doctrine concerning the indifference of outward ill preventing them. What grand possi- bilities of sublime wrestling with an apparently un- fathomable mystery they thereby missed we know from the Book of Job. Suppose Zeno, Cleanthes, and Chrysippus had occupied the place of Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar, what would they have said to the sufferer? Something like this : ' We hear, friend, that the Sabaeans have stolen your oxen and asses, and that your flocks of sheep have been destroyed by lightning ; vex not yourself, these are merely outward events independent of your will, therefore no evils, to be treated as if they had not happened by a wise man. We hear, moreover, that your sons and daughters have been suddenly killed, amid their festivities, by a tornado. It is a somewhat unusual and startling event ; still, such things do occur now 1 Lib. iii. cc. 32, 33. THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE 121 and then, and form part of the order of nature ; they happen indifferently to all, irrespective of character ; and when they happen they are purely external events, therefore indifferent. For the rest : consider that your children have been restored to the peace of the pre-natal condition, and say to yourself: "When I begot them I knew that they would have to die." 1 We not only have heard, we see, that you are afflicted in your own person with a loathsome disease, wasting and painful. This is harder to bear than all the other ills, but the apathetic wise man is equal to the task. Consider, Job : Pain has its seat in the body, why should it disturb the peace of your mind?' What would the man of Uz have thought of such consolations? Would they have appeared to him an improvement on the solemn homilies in vindication of divine justice addressed to him by the friends who had come to condole with him ? Which is the more trying to patience to be told : ' You suffer much, therefore you must be a very bad man ' ; or to be told : * You are, we are sure, a very good man, but you know you do not really suffer?' Perhaps there is not much to choose between them. Let us be thankful that the author of Job kept aloof from the pedantries alike of Eliphaz and of Zeno ; that he conceived of his hero as at once an exceptionally good man and an exceptionally miserable man. For 1 Ego quum genui, turn moriturum scivi. Seneca, in Ad Polybium ConsolattO) cxxx. 122 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD by this sharp antithesis between conduct and lot the problem of Providence in the individual life was adequately stated, and a need for earnest discussion created ; and if, after all that was said in the debate, the problem remained unsolved, it was at least kept open for other attempts by the ruthless sweeping away of premature superficial solutions. The Stoic solution was probably not before the writer's mind. Had it been, we can imagine what his sound Hebrew sense would have had to say about it : ' Destitution, sorrow, pain, are not to be charmed away by fine phrases. They are grim realities. They happen to men under the Providence of God, and some account of them must be given if faith in the justice and goodness of God is not to make shipwreck.' The later Stoics did make some attempt to supply a rationale of the sufferings of the good, on the assumption that these were real. Epictetus offered as his contribution the idea that tribulation promotes the development of heroic character. In an apologetic discourse on Providence he asks : * What sort of a man would Hercules have been had there not been lions and hydras and stags and wild boars and unrighteous savage men to fight with, and drive out of the world ? What would he have been doing, had not such beings existed? Spending his whole life nodding in luxury and idleness, without any chance of using his arms, strength, power of endurance, generous disposition.' The moral of the life of THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE 123 Hercules is thus pointed : * Come then, thou also, look at the powers given thee, then say to Jove, Bring any trial you please, for, lo! I have been equipped by thee for beautifying myself by the things which happen.' To such as are of a different temper, preferring to sit and groan and complain in presence of difficulties, he addresses the remon- strance : * I can show you that you have been pro- vided with talents and opportunities for the exercise of magnanimity and fortitude ; show me, if you can, what occasion you have for complaining and finding fault.' 1 In his treatise De Providentia Seneca presents some distinctive points of view. The aim of this work is not to treat of Divine Providence in general, but to discuss the special question, Why, if the world be under a providential guidance, do so many evils overtake good men? It abounds in fine thoughts felicitously expressed, which, for the most part, must here be left unnoticed. I can refer only to what may be called the spectacular aspect under which the subject is prominently, though not exclusively, presented. Two thoughts fall under this category. The first is that the sufferings of the good are a pleasing sight to the gods ; the second, that they make an important revelation of character to the sufferers themselves and to their fellow-men. As to the former, Seneca remarks : * I do not wonder if 1 Dissertations , i. 6. 124 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD sometimes the gods are seized with a desire to see great men struggling with calamity.' 1 He repre- sents the gods as, like generals, placing the best men in the posts of danger, and he counsels those so placed to console themselves with the reflection : God has deemed us worthy to be employed as a means of ascertaining how much human nature can bear. 2 The use of trial for the revelation of character to men is thus set forth : You are a great man ; but how shall I know, if fortune give you no opportunity of displaying your virtue? I judge you miserable because you never have been miserable. You have passed through life without an adversary. Nobody will know what you could have done, not even you yourself. There is need of trial for the knowledge of ourselves. No one learns what he is good for except by being tried. 3 You know the steersman in a tempest, the soldier in battle. 4 Calamity is the opportunity of virtue. 6 Fire proves gold, misery brave men. 6 To other men the manifestation of a heroic spirit conveys a lesson of endurance. The suffering hero is born to be an example. 7 The general theory of Providence taught by the early masters of the school might have been satis- 1 De Providentia^ cap. ii. s Ibid., cap. iv. ' Ibid. , cap. iv. 4 Ibid., cap. iv. : ' Gubernatorem in tempestate, in acie militem intelligas.' 8 Ibid., cap. v. : ' Calami tas virtutis occasio est.' Jbid. t cap. v. * lbid. t cap. vi. THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE 125 factory enough, if they had not done their best to render it nugatory by dividing men into two classes, one of which did not need God's care, and the other did not deserve it. There was no lack of emphasis in their assertion of the doctrine that God cares for men. After God, they argued, there is nothing in the world better than man, and nothing in man better than reason. Therefore God must have reason. The divine reason finds its proper occupa- tion in caring for the world, providing for its per- manence, furnishing it with all things needful, and adorning it with beauty ; but above all in caring for man. The world was made for beings endowed with reason, gods and men. The care of God for man is apparent in the structure of his body and the endow- ment of his mind, and in the subservience of the vegetable and animal creation to his benefit. Not to see the evidence of divine care, especially in the mind of man, is to be devoid of mind. As for the body, it is enough to refer to the hand, with its marvellous capacity of art, in the use of which men can produce a second nature in the nature of things. 1 Most acceptable doctrine ; but when we view this richly endowed being more closely, and consider the account given of the use he makes of his reason, our faith in his being the object of divine care is some- what shaken. Human beings, we are told, consist of 1 Vide Cicero, De Natura Dearum, lib. ii., in which an account of the teaching of the early masters on God and Providence is given. 126 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD two classes : wise men and fools. The wise are those who follow the dictates of reason ; the fools those who disregard these dictates, and are blindly led by false opinion and passion. The fools, it appears, form the great majority ; almost the whole mass indeed. And the fools are perfect fools. The wise men also are perfectly wise. There is no shading ; there are no degrees of folly and wisdom. Virtues and vices respectively go in groups ; he that has one virtue or vice has all, and each in perfection. This idealising way of viewing character is not peculiar to Stoicism, but the tendency to apply the category of the absolute to ethical distinctions was never carried to greater extravagance than by the Masters of the Porch. It reached its highest point of fantastic idealisation in the delineation of the Wise Man. The Wise Man of Stoic theory cultivates all the virtues ; does all things rightly ; is prophet, poet, orator, priest ; is perfect in character, and endowed with a felicity not inferior to that of the gods ; is a free man and a king. He is invulnerable, not because he cannot be struck, but because he cannot be injured. Nothing hurts divinity; no arrow can reach the sun. 1 He is absolutely self-reliant, and totally indifferent to popular judgment. As the stars move in a contrary direction to the world, so he goes against the opinion of all. 2 He neither asks 1 Seneca, De Constantia Sapientis, cap. iv. 2 Ibid. cap. xiv. THE STOICS : PROVIDENCE 127 nor gives sympathy. In the proud consciousness of virtue he feels no soft indulgence towards the bad, but severely leaves them to endure the just penalty of their folly. This man needs not God's care. He is a god himself. He is even superior to the gods in some respects, e.g. in patience. They are beyond, he is above, patience. He does not need even so much as to believe in God. Like Buddha, he can do without gods. The ethics of Stoicism have no need for a theistic foundation ; they would suit the agnostic better than the theist The Stoic wise man is absolutely self-sufficient, and does not need to care whether there be such a thing as a deity, a pro- vidence, or a hereafter. He talks piously about the gods, and about their care of men ; but this is merely the accident of his position, the tribute he pays to the time in which he lives. He might cast off his creed like a suit of old garments, and it would make no difference. The Stoic temper can survive Stoic theology. The temper is indeed likely to survive the theology, for it is apt to be the death of it. That temper is much more hostile to true faith in divine Providence than the belief in fate, destiny, and the inexorable reign of law which formed a part of the Stoic system of thought. The reign of physical law in no way excludes a providential order of the world, which simply means that the world, while mechani- cally produced, has an aim to which the whole 128 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD cosmos is subservient and each part in its relation to the whole. But the proud self-sufficiency of the sage stultifies the whole theory of a providential aim guiding the mind of God, by making man, the crown of creation, independent of God. The Stoic scorn for fools tends in the same direc- tion. Who can believe that God cares for a race who, having received the gift of reason, almost with- out exception make no use of it, and seem incapable of being cured of their folly? The true disciple of the porch did not believe it. His maxim was : ' God cares for the great and neglects the small.' 1 The sentiment, as put into the mouth of Balbus, the advocate of Stoicism, by Cicero, means that divine favour is not to be judged by outward chances such as the destruction of a crop by a storm. We are not to think that a man has been neglected by God because such misfortunes befall him, if he be endowed with the truer and more enduring riches of virtue. The inner treasures are the great things ; the outer goods of fortune are the small. But for the genuine Stoic the adage was apt to bear another sense, viz. that God cares for great men and neglects small men. In his exposition of the doctrine of Pro- vidence, Balbus maintains that the gods care not only for the human race, but for individual men, for men in the great divisions of the earth Europe, 1 Magna dii curanf, paroa negligunt. Cicero, De Natura Deorum, lib. ii. cap. IxvL THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE 129 Asia, and Africa ; and also for men living in Rome, Athens, Sparta, and, among these, for particular men named. 1 But the men named are all more or less famous, concerning whom, and others like them, it is affirmed that they could never have been the men they were without divine aid. There is no mention, even in a general way, of insignificant men as the objects of God's care ; no hint that even the hairs of their heads are all numbered. The pathos of the doctrine of Providence, as taught by Jesus, is wholly lacking in these grandiose demonstrations. ' Magna Dii curant, parva negligunt' is the keynote of the Stoic's providential psalm of praise. Returning to the wise man of Stoic imagination, the question arises, Where are men answering to the description to be found ? The Stoics themselves were obliged to admit that their number was few ; but they ventured to name Socrates, Diogenes, and Antisthenes among the Greeks, and Cato among the Romans, whom the modern historian Mommsen bluntly calls a fool. 2 The wise man of Stoicism is in truth only an ideal. But he is none the less important as an index of the spirit of the system. There can be no better guide to the genius of a religion or a philosophy than its moral ideal. The 1 Cicero, De Natura Deorum, lib. ii. cap. Ixvi. Balbus alludes to the fact that Homer assigns to the leading heroes, Ulysses, Diomede, Agamemnon, Achilles, divine companions in their trials and dangers. 2 Mommsen, The History of Xome, vol. iv. part ii. p. 448 ; English translation by Dr. Dickson. I 130 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD wise man of Stoicism is as vital to it as the Buddha to Buddhism, or the perfect man who studies the law day and night to Judaism. The modifications which Stoicism underwent in course of time tended to gain for it wider currency, but they are not the most reliable indication of the true temper of its teachers. It is by the esoteric doctrine of Buddhism, the law for the monk, rather than by its exoteric doctrine, the law for the laity, that its true char- acter is known. In like manner the apathetic sage, passionlessly yet passionately following reason, is the beau ideal of Stoicism, the revelation of its inmost soul. Suppose, now, we saw the ideal realised in a few rare specimens of humanity, what would they look like? Like the blasted pines of the Wengern Alp, standing near the summit of the pass, leafless, barkless, sapless ; chilled to death by the pitiless icy winds of winter blowing off the glaciers. Compare this picture with that of the righteous man of Hebrew poetry : ' He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water,' with its leaf ever green and bringing forth fruit in its season. 1 How poor a character the cold, unsympathetic wise man of Stoicism appears compared even with the tender- hearted saint and sage of Buddhism ! Between the Stoic wise man and the Jesus of the Gospels, the friend of publicans and sinners, no comparison is possible. Can we wonder that Stoicism, with all its 1 Psalm L THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE 131 earnestness, remained an affair of the school? No system of religious thought can make way in the world which has no place in its ethical j^eal for pity; no gospel for the weak. The Stoic was a Greek Pharisee who thought himself better than other men, and despised all whom he deemed his inferiors. He had his reward. He enjoyed to the full his own good opinion, and failed to win the trust and love of his fellow-men. In the foregoing paragraph I have referred to modifications of the Stoic system as originally con- structed. These were much needed in connection with three salient features : the exaggerated concep- tion of the wise man, the doctrine that pain is no evil, and the connected doctrine of apathy. Shading was introduced into the first by substituting, in the place of the ideal wise man, the man who, though he hath not attained nor is already perfect, yet is advancing onwards towards the goal. In connection with the second it was found necessary to introduce distinctions among the things which rigid theory had slumped together as indifferent, and to divide these into three classes the things to be desired, the things to be avoided, and the intermediate class of things neither to be desired nor to be avoided, to which the title 'indifferent* is properly applicable. In the first class were included such physical endow- ments as were favourable to virtue bodily health, riches, honour, good descent, and the like. Finally, 132 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD the apathy of theory was toned down by a gracious permission to the wise to indulge natural feeling to a certain measured extent ; to rejoice in prosperity and grieve under bereavement, to commiserate the unfortunate, and to give play to the sentiment of friendship. It was, as might have been expected when Stoicism became naturalised in the Roman world, towards the beginning of the Christian era, and from that time onwards, that it underwent this humanising transformation. The austere Roman nature presented a promising stock whereon to graft the philosophy of the porch, but Roman good sense was not likely to adopt without qualification the paradoxes and subtleties of Greek theorists. While welcoming the system in its main outlines, and especially in its characteristic temper, Roman disciples supplied at the same time the needful corrective. Cicero, one of the earliest Roman ad- mirers, if not an abject disciple, of Stoicism, reveals in his writings the common Roman attitude. In the second of his Tusculan Questions^ having for its theme how to bear grief, he treats as a mere ex- travagance the doctrine of Zeno, that pain is no evil. ' Nothing is evil, he teaches, save what is base and vicious. This is trifling. You do not by saying this remove what was troubling me.' 1 Seneca, coming a century later, about the begin- 1 Tuscu!. Qu lib. iii. cap. viii * McdilationeSi v. 29. THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE 137 when, with the rest of the universe, they would be absorbed into the primaeval fire. Chrysippus restricted the honour of such a survival to the wise. The Stoics of the Roman period seem to be in doubt whether, even in the case of the wise, death will not mean final extinction of being. To the question, How can the gods suffer good men to be extin- guished at death ? Marcus Aurelius replies : ' If it be so then it is right, if it be not right then the gods have ordered it otherwise.' 1 To a mother grieving over the loss of a beloved son, all the consolation Seneca has to offer is such as can be extracted from reflections like these : ' Death is the solution and end of all griefs, and restores us to the tranquillity in which we reposed before we were born. Death is neither good nor evil. That can be good or evil which is something, but that which is itself nothing and reduces all things to nothing, delivers us to no fortune.' 2 But let our last word concerning the Stoics be one of appreciation. They have added to the spiritual treasures of the human race a devout, religious tone and a serviceable moral temper. The religious tone finds characteristic expression in the hymn of Cleanthes, in some utterances of Epictetus, and in the general strain of the Meditations of Aurelius. 1 Meditationes, xii. 5. 8 Ad Marciam Consolatio, cap. xix. But there are passages to a different effect in SenecaVwritings. 138 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD The keynote of Stoic piety is struck in the open- ing sentences of the hymn. 'Thee it is lawful for all mortals to address. For we are thy offspring, and alone of living creatures possess a voice which is the image of reason. Therefore I will for ever sing thee and celebrate thy power.' 1 The sayings of Epictetus breathe throughout the spirit of childlike trust in God, of thankfulness for the blessings of Providence, and of cheerful sub- mission to the divine will. The prevailing mood finds culminating utterance in the closing sentences of one of his discourses on the providential order. 1 What then, since most of you are blind, were it not needful that some one should perform this function (of praise), and on behalf of all sing a hymn to God ? For, what else am I, an old man, good for except to praise God? If I were a nightingale, I should do the part of a nightingale, if a swan, the part of a swan ; but being a rational creature I must praise God. This is my work and I do it. I will keep this post as long as I may, and I exhort you to join in the chorus.' 2 The same spirit pervades the Medi- tations of the Stoic Emperor, only in them the note of sadness predominates. The ethical temper of Stoicism is not faultless. It is too self-reliant, too proud, too austere. Never- 1 From translation by Sir Alexander Grant in Oxford Essays, 1858, p. 96. 1 Dissertations, lib. i. cap. 16. THE STOICS: PROVIDENCE 139 theless it is the temper of the hero, whose nature it is to despise happiness so-called, to curb passion, and to make duty his chief end and chief good. A little of this temper helps one to play the man, and fight successfully the battle of life, especially at the critical turning-points in his experience. If the mood pass with the crisis, and give place to a softer, gentler mind, no matter. It is well to go from the school of the porch to the Schola ChristL But Stoicism has much in common with Christianity ; this above all, that it asserts with equal emphasis the infinite worth of man. It backs man against the whole universe. In view of the importance of the doctrine we can pardon the extravagance with which it is asserted, and even think kindly of the Stoic wise man. The very existence of a man like Epictetus, a slave yet recognised within the school as a good man and a philosopher, helps us to measure the distance that had been travelled in the direction of Christian sentiment since the time of Plato and Aristotle. To both these philosophers the very idea would have appeared a profanity. 1 1 Vide Bosanquet, Civilisation of Christendom, p. 43. LECTURE V DIVINATION IT is not unfitting that a study of Divination in its bearing on the providential order should form the sequel to our discussion of the opinions of the Stoics on the same theme. For the philosophers of the porch took a prominent place among the defenders of the reality of divination, and of its importance as a manifestation of the divine care for men. Zeno, as we learn from Cicero, sowed the seeds of the doctrine, Cleanthes adding somewhat to the store of seminal utterances, while the third of the great founders, Chrysippus, dealt with the subject in a more elaborate manner in two books, adding another on oracles, and a fourth on dreams. The tenets of these masters became the orthodox tradition of the school, which was followed without dissent till Panaetius, who introduced the Stoic philosophy to the knowledge of the Romans, about a century and a half before the Christian era, ventured to hint a modest doubt far from welcome to other members of the sect. 1 It happens, however, that, while few 1 Cicero, De Divinationt^ lib. i. cap. iii. 140 DIVINATION Ut of the Stoics called in question the accepted doctrine on divination, some of them have bequeathed to us sayings which, possibly without any intention on their part, can be used with effect in undermining that very faith in the diviner's art which the originators of the school had made it their business to propagate. On this ground also it is suitable that the topic should be taken up at this stage. The Stoic interest in divination was mixed up with the general conceptions of the school concern- ing God and Providence. The three topics God, Providence, and Divination formed a closely con- nected group in their minds. Belief in any one of the three was held to imply belief in the rest, so that each of them in turn, assumed as admitted, might be used to prove the others. According to the purpose in view it was argued now, if there be anything in divination then there are gods ; and at another time, if there be gods then divination must be a reality. Cicero has given us in short compass the logic of the Stoics in plying the latter of these two complementary arguments. It is as follows. * If there be gods, and yet they do not make known to men beforehand the things which are to come to pass, either they do not love men, or they do not know what is going to happen, or they think that men have no interest in knowing what is going to happen, or they think it beneath their dignity to reveal the future, or such revelation i 4 * THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD is beyond their power. But they do love us, for they are beneficent, and friendly to the human race : they are not ignorant of things which they themselves have ordained ; it is our interest to know what is going to happen, for we will be more cautious if we know ; the gods do not account revelation of the future beneath their dignity, for nothing is more be- coming than beneficence ; and it is in their power to know the future. Therefore it cannot be affirmed that gods exist, yet do not by signs reveal the future. But there are gods, therefore they give signs. But if they give signs they must also put within men's reach the science of their interpretation, for the one without the other would be useless. But this science is divination. Therefore divination is a reality.' 1 Thus reasoned Chrysippus, Diogenes, and Antipater ; acutely if not irrefutably. Belief in divination was not the monopoly of a school or a nation, but a common feature of all ancient ethnic religion. 'What king,' asks the apologist of the belief in Cicero's treatise, 'what king ever was there, what people, that did not employ the diviner's art?' 2 That art had great vogue, especially in Greece and Rome. The fact, it has been suggested, is to be accounted for by the consideration that these energetic peoples naturally found the chief interest of religion in its 1 Cicero, De Divinatione, lib. i. cap. xxxviii. * Ibid., lib. i. cap. xliii. DIVINATION 143 bearing on this life. 1 But this remark holds true not merely in reference to the Greeks and Romans ; it applies to pagans generally. Absorbing concern for the temporal is a characteristic of all peoples in a rudimentary moral condition. 'After all these things do the Gentiles seek.' Their very prayers are for material benefits, as one can see in the Vedic hymns. The summum bonum of crude religions consists in the gifts of fortune. And wherever these gifts are chiefly sought after, the arts of divination will flourish. Who will show us any good in store for us in the future? is the question on the lips of many, and wherever keen curiosity as to the secrets of to-morrow prevails, there will always be men offering themselves who profess ability to meet the demand, by drawing aside the veil of mystery which hides things to come from human eyes. Divination may be regarded as a primitive form of revelation, and when placed under this category it gains in dignity. Nothing can be more natural, rational, and praiseworthy, on the part of beings endowed with reason, than the desire to know God.. Show me Thy glory, show me Thy ways, show me Thy will, are prayers of which not even the wisest and most saintly have cause to be ashamed. What is there better worth knowing than the nature, 1 A. Bouche-Leclerq, Histoire de la Divination dans ?Antiquile t vol. i. p. 3. *44 ttt MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD thoughts, purposes of the great mysterious Being who made and sustains this world ? But all depends on the kind of knowledge sought. There are two kinds of knowledge which a son may desire to have concerning his father. He may wish to know his father's thoughts about right and wrong, what he approves and what he disapproves, what he loves and admires, and what he hates and despises, that he may order his own life so as to win the com- mendation of one whom he instinctively reveres. Or he may wish to know how much his father is worth, and what share of his fortune will fall to his own portion by his will when he dies, and to what extent a life of pleasure will thus be put within his reach in the years to come. The one kind of knowledge is the desire of a noble-minded son, the other of a son the reverse of noble-minded. Equally diverse in character may be the revelations men seek concerning God. The devout wish of one man may be simply to know God's spirit, His thoughts towards men, whether they be gracious or the reverse, to be assured of His goodwill, and to be informed as to the kind of conduct that pleases Him. With this knowledge he will be content, living a life of trust and obedience, and for the rest leaving his times, his whole future, in God's hands, without curiosity or care as to what to-morrow may bring. The eager desire of another man may be to obtain just that kind of know- DIVINATION 145 ledge concerning God's purposes about which the first-named person is wholly indifferent, detailed information as to coming events in his future experience : when he is to die, how and where, the ups and downs in his way of life, the good and evil, fortune and misfortune, in his lot. The first kind of knowledge alone deserves the name of revelation. It is ethical in character, and it makes for a life of righteousness and wisdom. The second kind of knowledge, if attainable, is of no moral value, and bears no worthy fruit in conduct. The desire for it has its root in secularity of mind, and the real or imaginary gratification of it can only tend to a more abject bondage to the secular spirit. The agent of revelation in connection with the higher kind of knowledge above described is the prophet, in connection with the lower the diviner or soothsayer. The characters of the two types of agents are as diverse as their occupations. The prophet is a man of simple, pure, unworldly spirit. He has a consuming passion for truth. His one desire is to know God as manifested in the world He has made, and in the history of mankind, and with absolute sincerity and unreserve to make known to others the vision he has seen. He has also a passion for righteousness as, in his judgment, the highest interest of life, and he makes it his business to preach the great doctrine that a people K 146 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD doing justly must prosper, has nothing to fear from the future, can defy all adverse fortune. But the diviner: what sort of a man is he? By the impartial testimony of history, a repulsive com- bination of superstition, greed, fraud, pretension, and ambition. Anything but a simple-minded man is the soothsayer ; rather is he dark, enigmatical, inscrutable. ' Worthless, and full of falsehood are the utterances of soothsayers,' asserts vehemently Euripides. 1 ' The whole tribe of diviners are covetous/ 2 declares, with no less emphasis, Sophocles. With this scorn and contempt of the Greek tragedians harmonises the tone in which Hebrew prophets ever speak of the fortune-telling tribe in their Semitic world. Yet we must not judge of all who, in primitive times, believed in and practised divination, by the depraved character of the professional diviner of a later age. The two kinds of knowledge above contrasted might be combined as objects of desire in the religious consciousness, and both might be sought in perfect simplicity of heart. Why should not God communicate both to them that loved Him ; reveal to them the law of duty as summed up in the Decalogue, and make known also the good and evil that were to befall them in the future? The law of chastity was written on the heart of Joseph, as his behaviour in the house of 1 Helena, 745, 746. 2 Antigone, 1036. DIVINATION 147 Potiphar attests. He feared God from his youth, and set moral duty above all considerations of advantage. But Joseph was also a dreamer of dreams, which he regarded as divine intimations of coming events in his own life ; and he was an interpreter of the dreams of others, in which he found pre-intimations of years of plenty and of famine in the near future of the land of Egypt. Joseph had the prophet's love of righteousness, yet he could divine. In those simple times men would view his divining talent as the natural result of his righteousness. To whom should the secret of the Lord be revealed but to them that feared Him, to a Joseph or to a Daniel? The Stoics said that the wise man alone can divine. 1 That sentiment was a survival of the feeling of far back antiquity. In the mouth of the Stoics it seems an anachronism, for by their time it had been made manifest that the ways of the diviner and the ways of wisdom and goodness were apt to lie far apart, and that lovers of wisdom, like Sophocles and Euripides, were inclined to show their bias by expressing abhorrence for the diviner's character, and their unbelief in the value of his pretended revelations. But in claiming the diviner's vocation for the wise, the Stoics were simply repeating the verdict of the tragic poets in a different form. They acknowledged the degeneracy, but refused to despair of the art. 1 Vide Stobaei, Eclog., lib. ii. 238. i 4 8 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD They aimed at reform rather than destruction. ' Divination,' they said in effect, * is a sorry business as actually practised, but put it into the hands of the wise man and all will be well. 1 Perhaps so, but what if the wise man declined the honour? That is what we should expect from the wise man as conceived by the Stoics. The media of revelation at the diviner's disposal were manifold. He could range over the wide region of the fortuitous, the unusual, and the marvellous, assumed to be specially significant. Whatever in the heavens or the earth, or beneath the earth, or in the aerial spaces, was fitted to arrest attention or awaken the sense of mystery and awe, might be expected to yield significant omens to those who had the eye to see and the ear to hear. The whole world was full of signs, hinting meanings bearing on the fortunes of men, and revealing to those who could understand the secrets of the past and the present, and above all of the future. There were signs in the stars, in the thunder-storm, in the flight and song of birds, in the murmur of the wind among the leaves of an oak- tree, in the livers of sacrificial victims, in the visions of the dreamer, and in the utterances of madmen. The question was not, where could the voice of God be heard, but where could it not be heard ? There was a plethora of revelation, and it was a matter of taste to which department in the DIVINATION 149 ample compass of the soothsayer's art any one might devote himself. There was room and need for specialisation, that every sort of divination might have its experts. If one method of ascer- taining the divine will went out of fashion, it did not greatly matter, another was sure to take its place. One people might learn from another. The Chaldaeans were the masters of astrology. The Greeks had their far-famed Delphic oracle. The Etruscans were the inventors of fulgural divination and of haruspicy. Among the most ancient and most interesting forms of divination was that of augury, which sought to ascertain the will of the gods by observing the flight and the song of birds. Its prevalence and popularity in Greece from an early period is attested by the fame of Tiresias and Calchas in mythological story, and by the use of the Greek name for a bird, opvw, in Athenian speech, as a generic name for all presages. The chief place among the birds of fate was assigned to the eagle, the vulture, the raven, and the crow ; but before all to the high-flying birds of prey which appear to reach heaven. 1 These messen- gers of Zeus, on whose cries and movements so much was believed to depend, filled the breasts of simple-minded beholders with superstitious awe. Even free - thinking philosophers, living after the 1 Vide Nagelsbach, Die nachhomerische Theologie des Griechischen VolksglaubenS) p. 164. 150 THE MORAL ORDER OF THE WORLD commencement of the Christian era, like Celsus and Porphyry, ascribed to the eagle and other omen- bearing birds greater importance than to man. The feeling of more ancient times is happily reflected in the Ion of Euripides. The foundling of that name is temple-sweeper in the shrine of Apollo his father, at Delphi. One of his menial duties is to keep the birds from defiling the sacred edifice. But they come one after another ; now an eagle, now a swan, now some other winged creature, from Mount Parnassus, or the Delian lake, or the banks of the Alpheus. Ion warns them off, bids them return to their accustomed haunts, even threatens them with an arrow from his bow. But he has not the courage to carry out his threat ; boy though he be, he is restrained by religious awe. ' I am afraid to kill you, who announce to mortals the messages of the gods/ 1 Euripides had no faith in divination in any form, but augury had a romantic side which would appeal to him as a poet. The same thing cannot be said of haruspicy, that form of divination which sought divine omens in the bowels of slaughtered animals. This contribution to the resources of the soothsayer's art is as unromantic and unpoetical, not to say repulsive, as can be con- ceived. One can with difficulty imagine a people y/ij aldovfj.au, roift 6cut> dyyAXovraj