JOURNEYS OF THE STOICS. Great Men in the Toils of Fashionable Patrons.

Te Aroha News, Volume I, Issue 51, 24 May 1884, Page 5

JOURNEYS OF THE STOICS. Great Men in the Toils of Fashionable Patrons.

[NY Silt (JKOUGE UKEY.]

Stoicism has existed from the earliest period of history. It spread from G reeco to Rome ; there it took root and flourished. The name lias died out from amongst us, but the philosophy still exists. There are yet men of distinguished ability and renown who insist on the sole importance of virtue— the brotherhood of all mankind— whose fundamental belief is in God and providence : who say, "I do my duty; other things trouble me not :" who strive earnestly throughout life to act up to these principles. Sometimes the brightness of the character of the Stoic is a little clouded by pride, frequently it becomes distasteful to others from its exclusiveness, whilst amongst these blemishes there is often a simplicity and innocence of the ways of the world about the Stoic which give a peculiar charm to much that he says or does. It is eas} r to see that a philosopher of intellect holding such views, carrying them into practice, defending them with ability, and holding a high place in literature, becomes before long a person ot much note in the higher circles of a great metropolis. He is soon sought after by the great leaders of society, who hardly think their entertainments complete unless he is amongst their guests, and tin's naturally, for his character and position in the literary world rellec 4 " a lustre upon his host or hostess. Many imagine that vast changes in tin relation of man to man are taking plac< with ceaseless rapidity in the world. Lei us test the truth of such an opinion ; anc as the belief of- the Stoics has varied bui little, and the character which grows out oJ such a belief must consequently be thought probably to have altered but' little in the course of time, let us make the interesting inquiry what changes have taken place in the relation of Stoics to their patrons, and of those patrons to the Stoics, in the course of a long interval of time —say some fifteen or sixteen hundred years. If this inquiry is directed to the journeys of Stoics with their patrons, we fortunately have ample materials at our disposal for pronouncing a judgment on this subject. Lucian, born about A.D. 140, has left us a very interesting description of a journey made by a friend of his, a Stoic philosopher, with a lady under whose patronage he made this short tour, whilst in our own time the justly most celebrated Stoic philosopher of this century has left behind him a most complete and picturesque narrative of a similar short tour which he made with a lady patroness to whose suite he was attached. We si i all see what similarities and differences existed in their experiences. Lucian, in his narrative (see amongst other narratives of this tour the Rev. W. L. Collins's Lucian), gives fair warning to the Stoics of the ills that may befall them if they, quitting their true position of independence, are led to follow patrons occupying a distinguished position in society. In effect he warns them somewhat in this way : Take care that they do not look upon you merely as a useful appendage to their greatness and position in the world ; whilst you, the philosopher, regard the station you have attained in society an a just recognition of the rights of genius. You will find it difficult in such a society to please, if you preserve a grave and dignified demeanour. You may be called churlish and morose ; if you, a renowned philosopher, try to be gay and put on a laughing, merry face, the company may too probably only stare and laugh at you. Be assured that your introduction into an elevated society, in which you never have been accustomed to move, and for which your education and habits have not fitted you, is likely to lead to slights and petty neglects to which you may be indifferent or hardly conscious of : thus your simplicity of character may lead you on step by step in a career which is likely to end in embarrassment and mystification. But bear in mind that if your life in town amongst great people is likely to lead you into such difficulties, it is likely to be much worse if you are led to travel with your patrons into the country, where you will be wholly at their mercy. But, by-the-bye, above all things take care not to become the follower of some great lady, for ladies are much more dangerous than men. She, with tears in her eyes, can appeal to the known kindness of most of the Stoics, and ask you, as a personal favour, to do something you feel to be at variance with your position, and how can yourefuseher ? If you travel with such alady, rely upon it, she will, under some excuse, draw you into the same litter with her cook and her lady's maid, and with some gentleman follower of hers., perhaps himself a polished and learned man, deserving of the highest consideration, but who may be irritating or sarcastic — a nice party, maids and all, for a great Stoic philosopher to be jumbled up with. I entreat you after this warning not to be led into a line of life which must be so completely repugnant to any man of independent spirit, and if you will deliberately go into such society after this warning, do not afterwards rail at your fate, as many do, but remember the words of Plato, " Heaven is blameless, the fault lies in your own choice." Lucian, to prove the probable accuracy of his warnings, relates the actual misfortunes which befell a Stoic philosopher, an acquaintance of his. This unhappy man, having fallen under the influence of a rich Roman lady, was persuaded by her to make an excursion in her society from the metropolis into the country. On joining the party, he found himself excluded from the litter in which gat or lay the great lady, a litter no doubt corresponding to her wealth and rank ; this she required for herself, and she insisted that the philosopher should take his seat in another litter — doubtless that of the maids alluded to, and in which there sat a strange gentleman, who was also travelling in this great lady's suite. Before they started, the lady, whose pertection of politeness, and whose cheery voice and light address would have befooled any simple Stoic, called the philosopher to her, saying : " We know how unselfish and benevolent you Stoics are. Now my maids give themselves no real trouble about their mistress ; if they treat me so, how would they treat this dear little dog of mine ? Abhor laying her in your lap for me, wrap her up in your cloak, and, as she is not well, and her accouchement may take place in a day or two, show the real benevolence of your heart. There, take her." And the grave and dignified philosopher, forced into such society, took his seat in the litter he was sent to, and, with his face and hands belicked by a dirty little poodle, went forth upon his most uncomfortable journey, yet doubtless admitting in his heart that the great lady was very good, and bore all the difficulties and disappointments arising from the neglect of her servants and the discomforts of the journey, with an admirable equanimity and magnanimity, which encouraged him to bear with like

spirit the discomforts ho was to undergc An examplo of patience set by a greai souled lady has a wonderful influence o men. Let us now solcct a Stoic from the prosen age, and inquire what his position in ou present highly-boasted-of state ot civilisa tion might becomo under such circum stances as Lucian alludes to, and suroiy n< grander example of a modern Stoic can b< taken than Carlylc — a man whoso innah greatness, dignity of character, grandeur o expression, and true nobility of ever; thought, were most fully appreciated ty those Avho knew him best, and therefor* felt the strongest affection for him. Sucl a man as that would, doubtless, under al circumstances, fare very dilTerontly fron the ancient Stoics. Carlyle, early in his career, wrote at time: boldly his chough ts regarding the aristo cratic classes in England, and these were frequently far from flattering. For ox ample: "What are the nobles doing V asked Carlyle a generation ago. " Preserv ing their game," A\as his answer. Ther. again he asked one of the questions m hicl: our great landholders so often propose "Cannot we do what we like with oui own ?" and his answer was, "Yes, indeed, if I could melt Gossip Rock, and create laws of gravitation ; if I could stride out to the Dogger bank, and striking down my trident there into the mild waves, say, 'Be land, be fields, meado>\s, mountains, and fresh rolling streams : by heaven ! I should incline to have the letting of that land in perpetuity, and sell the w heat of it, or burn the wheat of it, according to my good judgment.'' As he advanced in years his views, howaver, under soft influence?, somewhat changed : he wrote — Vol. 2, p. ISB, IS9, 190. "By this time we were getting noticed by select individuals of the aristocracy, and were what is called ' rather rising in society.' Ambition that way my Jane never had. But she took it always as an honour done to me, and had her various bits of satisfaction in it. The Spring Rices (Lords Mounteagle afterwards) were probably the h"rst of their class that ever asked me out as a distinguished thing. I remember their flunkey arriving here while we were at dinner ; I remember, too, their soiree itself in Downing-street, and the kaloi and kalai (as I called them) with their state and effulgences, as something new and entertaining to me. The Stanleys (of Alderley), through the Bullers, we had long since known, and still know ; but that, I suppose, was still mostly theoretic, — or, perhaps, I had dined there, and seen the Hollands (Lord and Lady), the etc. (as 1 certainly did ultimately), but not been judged eligible. To me, I can recollect (except what of snob ambition there might be in me, which I hope was not very much, though for certain it was not quite wanting either) there was nothing of charm in any of them ; old Lady Holland I viewed even with aversion, as a kind of hungry, 'ornamented witch,' looking over at me with merely carnivorous views (and always questioning her Dr. Allen when I said anything) ; nor was it till years after husband, Allen, etc., all dead, that I discovered remains of beauty in her, a pathetic situation, and distinguished qualities. My Jane, I think, knew still less of her ; in her house neither my Jane nor I ever was. " On the whole, that, too (intimacy with the aristocracy), was a thing to be gone through in our career, an,d it had its bits of benefit, bits of instruction, ke, Sec, but also its temptitions, intricacies tendencies to vanity, <tec. : to waste of time and faculties ; and in a better sphere of arrangement would have been 'a game not worth the candle.' Certain of the aristocracy, however, did seem to me still very noble, and, with due limitation of the grossly worthless (none of whom we have to do with), I should vote at present that, of classes known to me in England, the aristocracy (with its perfection of human politeness, its continual grace of brain*! and of actions, .stedfast 'honour,' light address, and cheery Stoicism), if you see well into it, is actually the best of English classes. Deep in it we never weie, promenaders on the shore rather ; but I have known it, too, and formed deliberate judgment as above." Thus, step by step had Carlyle incautiously gone wandering from the paths of pure Stoici-sm in which he at first walked, and, forgetful of the warnings of the faithful Lucian, approached those steps which lead down to journeys crammed into the same litters with ladies' maids and cook maids, and to unseemly disasters. Surely the great man will yet keep clear of the shoals and quicksands which have been so clearly marked out for him by a friendly writer. Bewildered by the fascinations of great ladies in the metropolis he may be, but in journeys with them to country towns he will not trust himself. Alas • too credulous man ; he consented to depart from the metropolis in the suite of a lady, on a journey to Edinburgh, and it was his destiny to be melted down and well smoked in the crucible of suffering, and to give another example and warning of that simplicity and innocence of character for which the really admirable Stoics have ever been so remarkable. Let him tell his own tale. \ r ol. 2, p. 245. "In July, 1556, soon after, may have been about middle of month, we went to Edinburgh ; a blazing day, full of dust and tumult, which I still very well remember. Lady W had got for herself a grand Queen's saloon, or ne plus ultra of railway carriages (made for the Queen some time before), costing no end of money. Lady sat or lay in the saloon. A common six feet carriage, immediately contiguous, was accessible for suite. In this the lady had insisted we should side with her doctor and her maid; a mere partition with a door dividing us from her ; the lady was very good, cheerful, though much unwell ; bore all her difficulties and disappointments with an admirable equanimity and magnanimity ; but it was physically almost the uncomfortablest journey T ever made. " At Peterborough, tho ne plus ultra was found to have its axletree on fire ; at every station afterwards buckets were copiously dashed and poured (the magnanimous lady 3aying never a syllable to it), and at New-castle-on-Tyne she flung the humbug neplus nway altogether, and our whole party into common carriage. Apart from the burning ixle, we had suffered much from dust and jold from foul air, so that at last I got the jloor opened, and sat with my head stretched )ut backward into the wind. This had ilarmed my poor wife, lest I should tumble >ut altogether, and she angrily forbade it — iear loving woman— and Icomplied, not at Ivst knowing why she was angry. This and Lady A's opening her door to tell us ' Here s Hinchinbrook !' (a long time before and ■vith something of pathos traceable in her Ireary voice) are nearly all that I now *emember of the base and dirty hurly-burly. Lord A. had preceded by some days, and vas waiting for our train at Edinburgh, ).3O p.m. ; hurly burly greater and dirtier ihan ever. They went to Barry's Hotel at mcc, servants and all ; no time to inform is (officially) that we, too, were their guests. But that, too, passed toell. We ordered ipartments, refreshments of our own there first of all baths ; inside of my shirt-collar

was as Mack as i7ik), and before the refreshments were ready, we had a gay and cordial invitation, &0., &c, found the 'old bear' (Ellis, in their rooms, I remember, and Lord A., and he, with a groat deal to say about Edinburgh and its people) a phenomenon. Next morning the Ashburtons went for Kinbosh — Linchart (fine hunting seat in Ross-shire) ; and my dear little woman to her cousins at Auchtertool, where I remember she was much soothed by their kindness, and improved considerably in health for the time." At least, in one respect, Carlylo, smutted and dirtied though he might be, was happier than Lucian's Stoic friend — for this latter philosopher, in whose lap, wrapped up in a cloak, had travelled the Roman lord's poodle, licking and yelping as they went— being at the end of the journey carefully unrolled, the horrified Stoic found in his cloak a litter of dear little puppies added to the mothor, with whom alone he had started. Then to his mortification, the satirical and irritating strange gentleman besido whom he had been seated, said to him as he left the litter, playing upon the Greek word for dog, " Good-bye, my friend, but pray, for the future-, drop the name of Stoic, and call yourself a cynic philosopher. Adieu ! adieu !" The action is the same, the accessories which surround it and accompany it vary. The first of these two things belongs to unvarying human action, the latter to the race, the age, and the climate. The central figures in action are still human forms, the motives of action are still human pride and feelings ; the dress, the equippage, the manners have alone varied with the times : a human hand still delivers a blow, and a human heart pulsates and writhes beneath it. Thus it is. The accessories alone vary. In each of the two cases there Avas a true Stoic philosopher — a swoet and gentle assurance, graceful, winning. In each case a beguiled Stoic, led astray by aristocratic suavities, turned under temptation from the strict principles of his creed ; and disaster overtook him. Doubtless, in each case, the real nobility of soul and greatness of the character of each of these men remained unsoiled ; yet, in the one case, a beloA'ed Avife was angered, and a great philosopher Avas taken, Avearied, dirty, ashamed, from a railAvay carriage to a very necessaiy bath ; in the other, a naturally dignified philosopher was left sitting, shamefaced, in a litter, Avith a heap of puppies in his lap. G. Grew [Finis.]