There is also in the Stoical system a recognition of duties to God, and of morality as based on piety.  Not only are we all brethren, but also the ‘children of one Father.’

The extraordinary strain put upon human nature by the full Stoic ideal of submerging self in the larger interests of being, led to various compromises.  The rigid following out of the ideal issued in one of the paradoxes, namely.—­That all the actions of the wise man are equally perfect, and that, short of the standard of perfection, all faults and vices are equal; that, for example, the man that killed a cock, without good reason, was as guilty as he that killed his father.  This has a meaning only when we draw a line between spirituality and morality, and treat the last as worthless in comparison of the first.  The later Stoics, however, in their exhortations to special branches of duty, gave a positive value to practical virtue, irrespective of the ideal.

The idea of Duty was of Stoical origin, fostered and developed by the Roman spirit and legislation.  The early Stoics had two different words,—­one for the ‘suitable’ [Greek:  kathaekon], or incomplete propriety, admitting of degrees, and below the point of rectitude, and another for the ‘right’ [Greek:  katorthoma], or complete rectitude of action, which none could achieve except the wise man.  It is a significant circumstance that the ‘suitable’ is the lineal ancestor of our word ‘duty’ (through the Latin officium).

It was a great point with the Stoic to be conscious of ‘advance’ or improvement.[11] By self-examination, he kept himself constantly acquainted with his moral state, and it was both his duty and his satisfaction to be approaching to the ideal of the perfect man.

It is very illustrative of the unguarded points and contradictions of Stoicism, that contentment and apathy were not to permit grief even for the loss of friends.  Seneca, on one occasion, admits that he was betrayed by human weakness on this point.  On strict Stoical principles, we ought to treat the afflictions and the death of others with the same frigid indifference as our own; for why should a man feel for a second person more than he ought to feel for himself, as a mere unit in the infinitude of the Universe?  This is the contradiction inseparable from any system that begins by abjuring pleasure, and relief or protection from pain, as the ends of life.  Even granting that we regard pleasure and relief from pain as of no importance in our own case, yet if we apply the same measure to others we are bereft of all motives to benevolence; and virtue, instead of being set on a loftier pinnacle, is left without any foundation.

EPICURUS. [311—­270 B.C.]