I must proceed here, however, to point out another aspect in which, though they seem to have had the same end before them, namely, the raising man to moral excellence, yet Christianity and Stoicism differed entirely—the means whereby human perfection is to be attained. Christianity pointed men to the way of humility and self-renunciation. Stoicism pointed them to the perfectibility of man by his own exertion, without trusting on divine aid. St Paul preached Jesus to the enquiring minds of Greece; Jesus, as a Saviour—Jesus, as an Example to those who would attain holiness of life—as a pattern of a perfect man. Now no lesson is more plainly taught in the Gospel of Christ, than the truth that penitence and humility are the necessary precursors of holiness and true glory. The Stoic would look on repentance as a confession that he had failed in his philosophy. It was no part of his scheme to lower himself in order to rise. Much less had he any idea of trusting in another’s merits, and in another’s self-sacrifice, in order to have any chance at all of becoming perfect for ever. But then, his idea of perfection was perfection as a philosopher in this life. The glorious hope of an eternal future, in which he would take part as a purified being, freed from all sin and defilement by the power of the omnipotent Father, and by the furnace through which he had to pass in struggling during a lifetime with temptation and with affliction, was no part of his creed. Like the Christian, he had a lofty purpose, but his purpose was confined to this life; to be conformed to the course of nature; to rise by his philosophy to a region of indifference about outward things. His end was attained, he thought, if he subdued his own nature; if he learnt to bear, without flinching, whatever might cause him pain or inconvenience; if what men commonly call natural feelings and affections were done violence to, without compunction, that he might thus attain to conformity with the rule of universal nature. All this he did, or professed to do, of his own power. He did not require a power from on high, to forgive his errors, and to give him strength to be virtuous. Rather, he was to be virtuous as a means of making GOD propitious. Just as Seneca says[20], “Inter bonos viros ac Deum amicitia est, conciliante virtute.” So that between this system and the Christian doctrine, though they both professedly inculcate a life of virtue and self-denial, there is an impassable gulph. Stoicism raised pride in human excellence into a part of its teaching. Indeed, the Stoic was, as has been justly observed, a Pharisee among heathens. He prided himself upon being not as others around him; upon being better and more exalted in virtue than they; and therefore upon being nearer GOD, and more worthy of the love of the Most High. Now Christianity goes on exactly the opposite principle to this. She teaches men that they must obtain the divine