inevitable result of previous causes (as the Stoics should have held) is likely to have a somewhat
paralysing effect on moral effort.
I come now to the second contradiction, that the Stoic, while he preached benevolence, held, in
theory, that no man can do either good or harm to another, since the virtuous will alone is good,
and the virtuous will is independent of outside causes. This contradiction is more patent than the
other, and more peculiar to the Stoics (including certain Christian moralists). The explanation of
their not noticing it is that, like many other people, they had two systems of ethics, a superfine one
for themselves, and an inferior one for "the lesser breeds without the law." When the Stoic
philosopher is thinking of himself, he holds that happiness and all other worldly so-called goods
are worthless; he even says that to desire happiness is contrary to nature, meaning that it involves
lack of resignation to the will of God. But as a practical man administering the Roman Empire,
Marcus Aurelius knows perfectly well that this sort of thing won't do. It is his duty to see that the
grain-ships from Africa duly reach Rome, that measures are taken to relieve the sufferings caused
by pestilence, and that barbarian enemies are not allowed to cross the frontier. That is to say, in
dealing with those of his subjects whom he does not regard as Stoic philosophers, actual or
potential, he accepts ordinary mundane standards of what is good or bad. It is by applying these
standards that he arrives at his duty as an administrator. What is odd is that this duty, itself, is in
the higher sphere of what the Stoic sage should do, although it is deduced from an ethic which the
Stoic sage regards as fundamentally mistaken.
The only reply that I can imagine to this difficulty is one which is perhaps logically unassailable,
but is not very plausible. It would, I think, be given by Kant, whose ethical system is very similar
to that of the Stoics. True, he might say, there is nothing good but the good will, but the will is
good when it is directed to certain ends, that, in themselves, are indifferent. It does not matter
whether Mr. A is happy or unhappy, but I, if I am virtuous, shall act in a way which I believe will
make him happy, because that is what the moral law enjoins. I cannot make Mr. A virtuous,
because his virtue depends only upon himself; but I can do something towards making him happy,
or rich, or learned, or healthy. The Stoic ethic may therefore be stated as follows: Certain things
are vulgarly considered goods,