THE
STOICS, EPICUREANS
AND
SCEPTICS
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF
Dr E. ZELLER
Professor of the University of Heidelberg
BY
REV. OSWALD J. REICHEL, B.C.L., M.A.
sometime Vice-Principal of Cuddesden College
NEW AND REVISED EDITION
LONDON
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
AND NEW YORK: 15 EAST 16th STREET
1892
PREFACE.
The present translation aims at supplying an introductory volume to a
later period of the history of mind in Greece, which may be
collectively described as the post-Aristotelian. To the moralist and
theologian no less than to the student of philosophy this period is one
of peculiar interest; for it supplied the scientific mould into which
Christianity in the early years of its growth was cast, and bearing the
shape of which it has come down to us.
The translation has been carefully revised for the present edition,
with the view of rendering more clear any passages which seemed
obscure.
À la Ronde, near Lympstone, Devon:
August 1891.
CONTENTS.
PART I.
STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE.
CHAPTER I.
THE INTELLECTUAL AND POLITICAL STATE OF GREECE AT THE CLOSE OF THE
FOURTH CENTURY B.C.
PAGE
A. Merits and defects of the systems of Plato and Aristotle 1
B. Connection between the theories of Aristotle and the
Greek character 6
C. Greece after the battle of Chæronea 12
CHAPTER II.
CHARACTER AND CHIEF FEATURES OF THE POST-ARISTOTELIAN PHILOSOPHY.
A. Causes forming the post-Aristotelian philosophy 15
1. Political causes 15
2. Intellectual causes 17
B. Common characteristics of the post-Aristotelian philosophy 19
1. Theory subordinated to practice 19
2. Peculiar mode of treating the practical problem 21
3. These peculiarities illustrated by subsequent
philosophy 22
C. Development of the post-Aristotelian philosophy 25
1. Dogmatic Schools—Stoics and Epicureans, Dogmatic
Scepticism 25
2. Sceptical Schools—influences producing—Scepticism and
Eclecticism 26
3. Religious School of Neoplatonists 31
PART II.
THE STOICS.
CHAPTER III.
HISTORY OF THE STOICS UNTIL THE END OF THE SECOND CENTURY B.C.
A. Zeno 36
B. Pupils of Zeno 40
1. Cleanthes 40
2. Aristo and Herillus 41
3. Other pupils 43
C. Chrysippus and the later Stoics 45
1. Chrysippus 45
2. Later Stoics 48
CHAPTER IV.
AUTHORITIES FOR THE STOIC PHILOSOPHY; ITS PROBLEM AND DIVISIONS.
A. Authorities 53
1. Review of authorities 53
2. Use to be made of authorities 55
B. Problem proposed to the Stoic philosophy 56
1. Its practical character 56
2. Necessity for intellectual knowledge 58
3. Attitude towards logic and natural science of Aristo—
of Zeno and Cleanthes 59
C. Divisions of philosophy 66
1. Threefold division 67
2. Relative importance of each part 68
CHAPTER V.
LOGIC OF THE STOICS.
A. General remarks 70
1. Field of Logic 70
2. Words and thoughts 73
B. Theory of knowledge 75
1. General character of this theory 75
2. Prominent points in the theory—perceptions—
conceptions—standards of truth 77
C. Formal logic 92
1. Utterance in general 92
2. Incomplete expression—words—the categories 94
3. Complete utterance—judgment—inference—fallacies 110
D. Estimate of Stoic logic 123
1. Its shortcomings 123
2. Its value 123
CHAPTER VI.
THE STUDY OF NATURE: 1. FUNDAMENTAL POSITIONS.
A. Materialism 126
1. Meaning of the Stoic Materialism 126
2. Causes which led to Stoic Materialism 132
3. Consequences of Stoic Materialism—individual
perceptions—theory of universal mingling 135
B. Dynamical theory of Nature 139
1. Matter and force 139
2. Nature of force 141
3. Deity—God as force—God as matter 148
C. Pantheism 156
1. God identical with the world 156
2. Relative difference between God and the world 158
3. Views of Boëthus 159
CHAPTER VII.
THE STUDY OF NATURE: 2. COURSE, CHARACTER, AND GOVERNMENT OF THE
UNIVERSE.
A. The General Course of the Universe 161
1. Origin of the world 161
2. End of the world 163
3. Cycles in the world’s course 165
B. Government of the World 170
1. Nature of Destiny—as Providence—as Generative Reason 170
2. Arguments in favour of Providence 173
3. The idea of Providence determined 175
C. Nature of the world 182
1. Its unity and perfection 183
2. Moral theory of the world 187
CHAPTER VIII.
THE STUDY OF NATURE: 3. IRRATIONAL NATURE. THE ELEMENTS.—THE UNIVERSE.
A. The most general ideas on Nature 194
B. The Elements 197
C. The Universe 202
1. The stars 204
2. Meteorology 206
3. Plants and animals 208
CHAPTER IX.
THE STUDY OF NATURE: 4. MAN.
A. The Soul 210
1. Materialistic nature of the soul 210
2. Divisions of the soul 213
B. The Individual Soul and the Soul of the Universe 216
C. Freedom and Immortality 219
CHAPTER X.
ETHICS: 1. THE GENERAL PRINCIPLES OF THE STOIC ETHICS. ABSTRACT THEORY
OF MORALITY.
A. The Highest Good 225
1. Nature of the Highest Good 225
2. The Good and Evil 230
3. Pleasure and the Good 235
4. Negative character of Happiness 239
5. The Highest Good as Law 240
B. Emotions and Virtue 243
1. The Emotions—their nature—varieties of 243
2. Idea of Virtue—positive and negative aspects of—the
virtues severally—their mutual relations—unity of
virtue 254
C. The Wise Man 268
1. Wisdom and Folly 268
2. Universal Depravity 272
3. Conversion 275
CHAPTER XI.
ETHICS: 2. THE STOIC THEORY OF MORALS AS MODIFIED IN PRACTICE.
A. Things to be preferred and eschewed 278
1. Secondary goods 280
2. Classes of things indifferent 281
3. Collision of modified and abstract theory 284
B. Perfect and intermediate duties 287
C. Emotions 290
1. Permitted affections 290
2. Modification of apathy 292
3. The state of progress 293
CHAPTER XII.
ETHICS: 3. APPLIED MORAL SCIENCE.
A. The Individual 301
1. Importance attaching to the individual 301
2. Cynicism of the Stoics 305
B. Social Relations 311
1. Origin and use of society 311
2. Justice and mercy 315
3. Friendship 317
4. The family and civil life—aversion to political
life—citizenship of the world 320
C. Man and the Course of the World 332
1. Submission to the course of nature 332
2. Suicide 335
CHAPTER XIII.
THE RELATION OF THE STOICS TO RELIGION.
A. General connection of Stoicism and Religion 341
1. Connection of Stoicism with popular faith 343
2. Free criticism of popular belief 344
3. The truth in Polytheism 348
4. Doctrine of Demons 351
B. The Allegorising spirit 354
1. Allegorical interpretation of myths 354
2. Interpretation of myths respecting the Gods 357
3. Allegory applied to heroic myths 367
C. Prophetic powers 369
1. Divination 370
2. Prophecy explained by natural causes 374
3. Causes of divination 377
CHAPTER XIV.
THE STOIC PHILOSOPHY AS A WHOLE AND ITS HISTORICAL ANTECEDENTS.
A. Inner connection of the system 381
1. Ethical side of Stoicism 382
2. Scientific side of the Stoic system 383
3. Connection of the moral and scientific elements 385
B. Relation of Stoicism to previous systems 387
1. Its relation to Socrates and the Cynics 387
2. Relation to Megarians and Heraclitus 392
3. Relation to Aristotle 396
4. Relation to Plato 399
C. The Stoic philosophy as a whole 400
1. Its place in history 400
2. Its onesidedness 402
PART III.
THE EPICUREANS.
CHAPTER XV.
EPICUREANS AND THE EPICUREAN SCHOOL.
A. Epicurus 404
B. Scholars of Epicurus 408
C. Epicureans of the Roman period 411
CHAPTER XVI.
CHARACTER AND DIVISIONS OF THE EPICUREAN TEACHING. THE TEST-SCIENCE OF
TRUTH.
A. Character of Epicurean system 418
1. Its power of self-preservation 418
2. Aim of philosophy according to the Epicureans 420
3. Divisions of philosophy 424
B. Canonic or the Test-Science of Truth 425
1. Sensation and perception 425
2. Notions 428
3. Opinions 429
4. Standard of truth subjective 431
CHAPTER XVII.
THE EPICUREAN VIEWS OF NATURE.
A. General Views on Nature 434
1. Object, value, and method of the study of nature 434
2. Mechanical explanation of nature 437
3. Atoms and empty space 439
B. The World 444
1. The swerving aside of atoms 444
2. Origin of the world 447
3. Arrangement of the universe 449
4. Plants and animals 451
C. Mankind 451
1. Origin of the human race 451
2. The soul 453
3. Sensation 457
4. Will 459
CHAPTER XVIII.
VIEWS OF EPICURUS ON RELIGION.
A. Criticism of the Gods and the popular faith 462
B. The Gods according to Epicurus 464
1. Reasons for his belief 464
2. Nature of the Epicurean Gods 467
CHAPTER XIX.
THE MORAL SCIENCE OF THE EPICUREANS: 1. GENERAL VIEWS.
A. Pleasure 472
1. Pleasure the Highest Good 472
2. Freedom from pain 474
B. Intellectual Happiness 476
1. Intelligence 476
2. Reasons for rising superior to the senses 478
3. Virtue 480
C. The Wise Man 483
CHAPTER XX.
THE EPICUREAN ETHICS CONTINUED: 2. SPECIAL POINTS.
A. The Individual 485
B. Civil Society and the Family 490
1. Civil society 490
2. Family life 492
C. Friendship 493
CHAPTER XXI.
THE EPICUREAN SYSTEM AS A WHOLE. ITS POSITION IN HISTORY.
A. Coherence of the Epicurean teaching 499
B. Historical position of Epicureanism 503
1. Relation to Stoicism 503
2. Relation to Aristippus 508
3. Relation to Democritus 510
4. Relation to Aristotle and Plato 511
PART IV.
THE SCEPTICS: PYRRHO AND THE OLDER ACADEMY.
CHAPTER XXII.
PYRRHO.
A. Historical position of Scepticism 514
1. Relation to cotemporary dogmatic systems 514
2. Causes producing it 515
3. Pyrrho and his followers 517
B. Teaching of Pyrrho 521
1. Impossibility of knowledge 521
2. Withholding of judgment 523
3. Mental imperturbability 525
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE NEW ACADEMY.
A. Arcesilaus 528
1. Denial of knowledge 528
2. Probability 534
B. Carneades 535
1. Negative views of 538
2. Positive views of 553
C. School of Carneades 563
GENERAL INDEX 567
PART I.
STATE OF CULTURE IN GREECE.
CHAPTER I.
THE INTELLECTUAL AND POLITICAL STATE OF GREECE AT THE CLOSE OF THE
FOURTH CENTURY.
[A. Merits and defects of the systems of Plato and Aristotle.]
In Plato and Aristotle Greek Philosophy reached its greatest
perfection. In their hands the Socratic philosophy of conceptions grew
into elaborate systems, which embraced the whole range of contemporary
knowledge, and grouped it from definite points of view so as to afford
a connected view of the universe. The study of nature was by them
supplemented by careful enquiries into the subject of morals. It was,
moreover, transformed, enlarged, and enriched by Aristotle. In
metaphysics, the foundations for a philosophical structure were deeply
laid, everything being referred to first principles, in a way which no
previous philosopher had before attempted. A multitude of phenomena
which earlier thinkers had carelessly passed over, more particularly
the phenomena of mental life, were pressed into the service of
research; new questions were raised; new answers given. New ideas had
penetrated every branch of knowledge. That idealism in which the Greek
mind so beautifully and lucidly found expression had been set forth by
Plato in brilliant purity, and had been by Aristotle combined with
careful observation. Practice and theory had brought the dialectical
method to the position of an art. A valuable instrument of thought had
been gained in the scientific use of terms of which Aristotle was the
real originator. Within a few generations the intellectual treasures of
Greece had been manifoldly increased, both in extent and value. The
heritage received by Socrates from his predecessors could hardly be
recognised as the same in that which Aristotle left to his successors.
Great as was the progress made by Greek philosophy in the fourth
century before Christ, quite as great were the difficulties with which
it had perpetually to contend; quite as difficult the problems on the
solution of which it had to labour. Aristotle had already pointed out
the weak points in the system of Plato, which rendered it impossible
for him to accept that system as satisfactory. From the platform of
later knowledge still further objections might be raised to it. Even in
Aristotle’s own system inconsistencies on some of the most important
points might be found, concealed under a certain indefiniteness of
expression, but fatal if once brought to light to the soundness of the
whole. For with all his ingenuity, Aristotle never succeeded in
harmoniously blending all the elements out of which his system was
composed. Thus the divergencies of his immediate followers from the
original Aristotelian teaching may be accounted for.
Nor were these defects of a kind that could be easily disposed of. The
deeper the enquiry is carried, the clearer it becomes that they were
defects embedded in the foundations of the systems both of Plato and
Aristotle, and underlying the whole previous range of philosophic
thought. Omitting details and minor points, they may all be ultimately
referred to two: either to an imperfect knowledge and experience of the
world, or to the overhaste of idealistic philosophy to draw
conclusions. To the former defect may be attributed the mistakes in
natural science into which Plato and Aristotle fell, and the limited
character of their view of history; to the latter, the Platonic theory
of ideas with all that it involves—the antithesis of ideas and
appearances, of reason and the senses, of knowledge and ignorance, of
the present world and the world to come—and likewise the corresponding
points in the system of Aristotle; such, for instance (to name some of
the principal ones only), as the relation of the particular and the
general, of form and matter, of God and the world, of the theory of
final causes and natural explanations, of the rational and the
irrational parts of the soul, of speculative theory and practice.
Both defects are closely connected. The Greek philosophers were content
with an uncertain and imperfect knowledge of facts, because they
trusted conceptions too implicitly, and were ignorant of their origin
and worth; and they had this unconditional trust in the truth of
conceptions because the study of nature was yet in its infancy. Their
knowledge of history was too limited for them to see the difference
between the results of careful observation and those of ordinary
unmethodical experience, to realise the uncertainty of most of the
traditional principles and the necessity for a stricter method of
induction. The fault common to both Plato and Aristotle lay in
attaching undue prominence to the dialectical method inherited from
Socrates to the neglect of observation, and in assuming that
conceptions expressing the very essence of things can be deduced in a
purely logical way from current beliefs and the use of language. In
Plato this dialectical exclusiveness appears most strongly, and finds
striking expression in his theory of recollection. If all conceptions
are inherent from the moment of birth and need only the agency of
sensible things to produce a consciousness of their existence, it is
only legitimate to infer that, to know the essence of things, we must
look within and not without, and obtain ideas by abstraction from the
mind rather than by induction from experience. It is equally legitimate
to infer that the ideas derived from the mind are the true standard by
which experience must be judged. Whenever ideas and experience
disagree, instead of regarding ideas as at fault, we ought to look upon
the data of experience as imperfect, and as inadequately expressing the
ideas which constitute the thing as it really exists. Thus the whole
theory of ideas, and all that it implies, is seen to be a natural
corollary from the Socratic theory of conceptions. Even those parts of
this theory which seem most incongruous are best explained by being
referred to the principles of the Socratic process.
From this defective assumption Aristotle is only partially free. He
attempted, it is true, to supply the defects in the Socratic and
Platonic theory of conceptions by observation of a kind with which
Plato’s experimental knowledge cannot be compared either for accuracy
or extent. With that attempt he also combined a complete transformation
of the Platonic metaphysics, whereby he secured the same position for
particulars in relation to the universal that his predecessor had
secured for observation in relation to conceptional knowledge. But
Aristotle did not go far enough. In his theory of knowledge he cannot
wholly discard the assumption that the soul has its knowledge by a
process of development from within, and is not only endowed with the
capacity of thinking, but possesses also from its birth the substance
of ideas. In his scientific method a critical investigation of common
notions and of idiom—that in fact which he himself calls proof by
probabilities—is constantly taking the place of strict induction. His
endeavours to harmonise the two antagonistic currents in Plato’s
teaching may have been undertaken in all sincerity, but the antagonism
was too deeply seated to yield to his efforts. It not only reappears in
the fundamental ideas of his system, but it colours all its general
results. Beginning with the antithesis between form and matter, it ends
in the contrast between the world and a soul independent of the world,
in the conception of reason as something above man, never combining
with the lower parts of his nature to form one complete living unity.
[B. Connection between the theories of Aristotle and Greek character.]
Granting that the Socratic philosophy of conceptions is the source from
which these peculiarities are derived, still that philosophy is itself
only the expression of the character of the nation which produced it.
In an earlier work it has been shown [1] that the most distinctive
feature of Greek life lay in confounding the outer and the inner
worlds, in ingenuously assuming that the two originally corresponded,
and are still in perfect harmony with one another. When the whole
mental life of a people bears this impress, it is sure to be reflected
in its philosophy also. Together with the advantages which accrue from
the confusion of the two, philosophy shares also the disadvantages
which unavoidably attend any theory which ignores the real distinction
between them. The mind only gradually and imperfectly becomes aware of
the distinctive peculiarity of mental life, of the notion of
personality, of the fact that moral rights and duties are independent
of external circumstances, of the share of the individual will in
creating ideas. It has also less hesitation in transferring phases of
consciousness directly to things themselves, in regarding the world
from ideal points of view borrowed from the sphere of mind, in
accepting its own notions of things as realities without testing their
actual truth, and even treating them as more real than the reality of
the senses, and in confounding the critical analysis of a notion with
the experimental investigation of a thing. If the philosophy of Greece
in the time of its greatest perfection was not free from these defects;
if, further, these defects were the cause of all the important faults
in the systems of Plato and Aristotle; the creators of these systems
and their immediate successors are not the only ones to blame; but the
whole mental peculiarity of the people is at fault of which within the
province of science these men were the greatest representatives.
As the faults of the Platonic and Aristotelian systems are seen to be
connected with the general character of Greek life, it becomes obvious
how difficult it must have been for Greeks to emancipate themselves
from them. To overcome the difficulty nothing short of a radical
breaking away from old lines of thought would avail. The origin of
ideas, the primary meaning of conceptions, must be enquired into with
searching thoroughness; a sharper distinction must be drawn between
what is supplied from without and what is supplied from within; the
truth of axioms hitherto received in metaphysics must be more carefully
investigated than had ever been done as yet. The intellect must
accustom itself to an accuracy of observation, and to a strictness of
inductive process, never before reached in Greece. Experimental
sciences must attain a degree of completeness which it was vain to hope
to reach by the methods and means then in vogue. The fashion of
regarding nature as though it were a living being which allowed
questions as to facts to be answered by speculations as to final causes
or by the desire of nature to realise beauty, must be abandoned.
Enquiries into a man’s moral nature and duties must be kept apart from
the simple study of his conduct in relation to natural surroundings,
the disastrous effects which flow from the confusion of the two being
only too apparent in the national type of the Greeks, in the
exclusively political character of their morality, and in their
adherence to slavery.
Before this pass could be reached how much was there not to alter in
the condition and mental habit of Greece! Could it indeed be expected
that a more vigorous and more scientific method would gain foothold so
long as the tendency to look upon the life of nature as analogous to
the life of man was kept alive by a religion such as that of Hellas? Or
that moral science would liberate itself from the trammels of Greek
propriety of conduct, whilst in all practical matters those trammels
were in full force? Or that a clearer distinction would be drawn
between what comes from without and what from within in ideas—a
distinction which we vainly look for in Aristotle—until a depth and an
intensity had been given to the inner life, and until the rights and
value of the individual as such had obtained a recognition which it
required the combined influence of Christianity and the peculiar
Germanic character to bring about? The more vividly the national type
and the national conditions surrounding Greek philosophy are realised,
the firmer becomes the conviction, that to heal its defects—which are
apparent even in its greatest and most brilliant achievements—nothing
short of a revolution in the whole mental tone of Greece would
avail—such as history has seen accomplished, but not till after many
shifts and many centuries.
On the platform of the ancient life of Greece such a change could not
possibly have come about. It may be that under more favourable
circumstances Greek philosophy might have further developed along the
same course of purely intellectual enquiry which it had previously so
successfully followed in the hands of its earlier representatives, more
particularly of Aristotle. What results might in this way have been
attained, we cannot exactly determine. Speculation is, however,
useless. In point of fact, the historical circumstances under which
philosophy had to grow cannot be ignored. Philosophy had become what it
was under the influence of those circumstances. The Socratic theory of
conceptions, and Plato’s theory of ideas, presuppose on the one hand
the high culture of the age of Pericles, and the brilliant career of
Athens and Greece following on the Persian war. They also presuppose
the political degradation and the moral exhaustion of Greece during and
after the Peloponnesian war. Aristotle, with his high intellectual
culture, despairing of everything direct and practical, with his wide
view of things, his knowledge of every kind, his system matured and
elaborate, and embracing all the results of previous enquiry—appears as
the child of an age which was bearing to the grave a great historical
epoch, in which intellectual labour had begun to take the place of
vigorous political action.
The bloom of Greek philosophy was short-lived, but not more short-lived
than the bloom of national life. The one was dependent on the other,
and both were due to the action of the same causes. The Greeks, with a
high appreciation of freedom, a ready aptitude for politics, and a
genius for artistic creations, produced within the sphere of politics
one result of its kind unrivalled and unique. They neglected, however,
to lay the foundations wide and deep. Their political endurance was not
equal to their versatility and restlessness. Communities limited in
extent and simple in arrangement sufficed for them. But how could such
communities include all branches of the Greek family, and satisfy at
once all legitimate aspirations? It is the same within the department
of science. Prematurely concluding and rashly advancing from isolated
experiences without mediating links to the most general conceptions,
they constructed theories upon a foundation of limited and imperfect
experience, which it was wholly inadequate to bear. Whether, and in how
far, the intellect of Greece, if left to itself, might have remedied
these defects in a longer protracted calm of development, is a question
which it is impossible to answer. As a fact, that intellect was far too
intimately bound up with the political, the moral, and the religious
life—in short, with the whole mental tone and culture of the people—not
to be seriously affected by a change in any one of them. It lay, too,
in the character and historical progress of that people to have only a
brief period of splendour, and that soon over. At the time that the
philosophy of Greece reached its highest point in Plato and Aristotle,
Greece was in all other respects in a hopeless state of decline.
Notwithstanding individual attempts to revive it, the old morality and
propriety of conduct had disappeared since the beginning of the
Peloponnesian war. The old belief in the gods was likewise gone. To the
bulk of the people the rising philosophy with its ethics afforded no
substitute. Art, although carefully cultivated, failed to come up to
the excellence of the strictly classic period. Political relations
became daily more unsatisfactory. In the fifth century before Christ
the rivalry of Athens and Sparta had ranged the states of Greece into
two groups. In the succeeding century disunion spread further. The
effort made by Thebes under Epaminondas to found a new leadership only
multiplied parties. Destitute of a political centre of gravity, the
Greeks, of their own choice, drifted into a disgraceful dependence on
the conquered and now declining Persian empire. Persian gold wielded an
influence which Persian arms had been unable to exercise. The petty
jealousies of tiny states and tribes frittered away in endless local
feuds resources which with unity and leadership might have accomplished
wonders. Civil order declined, and with it the well-being and martial
prowess of the nation declined also. The growing pursuit of the art of
war as a profession took the decision of battle more and more out of
the hands of free citizens, and placed it in those of the numerous
bands of mercenaries which are one of the most baneful phenomena of
that age, a sure sign of the decline of freedom, and of the approach of
a military despotism. When by the rise of the Macedonian power the
danger of a military despotism loomed nearer, patriots in Greece
continued to deceive themselves with the hope that their self-devotion
would avert the danger, but any unbiassed reader of history sees in the
failure of their attempts to avert it the natural and inevitable result
of causes so deeply rooted in the Greek character and the course of
Greek history, that neither the most heroic exertions of individuals,
nor the united resistance of the divided states, which came too late,
could for one moment have rendered the final issue doubtful.
[C. Greece after the battle of Chæronea.]
By the battle of Chæronea the doom of Greece was sealed. Never since
then has Greece attained to real political freedom. All attempts to
shake off the Macedonian supremacy ended in humiliating disasters. In
the subsequent struggles Hellas, and Athens in particular, were the
play-ball of changing rulers, the continual arena of their warfare. The
second half of the third century was reached before a purely Grecian
power—the Achæan League—was formed, round which the hopes of the nation
rallied, but the attempt was wholly inadequate to meet the real
requirements of the times. Soon it became apparent that no remedies
were forthcoming to heal the ills from which the country was suffering.
Discord, their old hereditary failing, rendered it impossible for
Greeks to be independent in foreign relations, or to be united and
settled at home. Their best resources were wasted in perpetual
struggles between Achæans, Ætolians, and Spartans. The very individual
who led the Achæans against the Macedonians in the cause of
independence, called the Macedonians back to the Peloponnesus to gain
their support against Sparta. When the supremacy of Macedonia was
broken by the arms of Rome, a more avowed dependence on Italian allies
succeeded. And when, in the year 146 B.C., the province of Achaia was
incorporated into the Roman empire, even the shadow of freedom which up
to that time had been assured departed for ever.
Sad as were the external affairs of Greece at this period, and marked
as was the decline of its intellectual power, its mental horizon,
nevertheless, extended and its culture became more generally diffused.
The Macedonian ascendency, which gave the death-blow to the
independence of Greece, also broke down the barriers which had hitherto
separated Greeks from foreigners. A new world was opened out before
them, and a vast territory offered for their energies to explore.
Greece was brought into manifold contact with the Eastern nations
belonging to the Macedonian monarchy, whereby it secured for its
culture the place of honour among them, but at the same time became
subject to a slow, but, in the long run, important back-current of
Oriental thought, traces of which appear in its philosophy a few
centuries later. By the side of the old famed centres of learning in
the mother country of Hellas, new centres arose, suited by position,
inhabitants, and peculiar circumstances to unite the culture of East
and West, and to fuse into one homogeneous mass the intellectual forces
of different races. Whilst Hellas, by the number of emigrants who left
her shores to settle in Asia and Egypt, was losing her population and
the Greeks in their ancestral homes were being ousted by foreigners,
they were gaining the most extensive intellectual conquests at the time
over the very nations by and through whom they had been oppressed.
CHAPTER II.
CHARACTER AND CHIEF FEATURES OF THE POST-ARISTOTELIAN PHILOSOPHY.
[A. Causes producing the post-Aristotelian philosophy.]
The circumstances which have been briefly sketched in the preceding
chapter are of the greatest importance in their bearing on the
character of the post-Aristotelian philosophy. Greek philosophy, like
Greek art, is the offspring of Greek political independence. In the
whirl of public life every one is thrown on himself and his own
resources. Thereby, and by the emulation begotten of unlimited
competition for all the good things of life, the Greek had learned to
make full use of his intellect. Consciousness of his dignity—which a
Greek associated far more closely than we do with the privilege of
citizenship—and independence of the necessity of struggling for daily
food, had taught him independence of mind, and enabled him to devote
himself to the pursuit of knowledge without any ulterior aim. [2]
[(1) Political causes.]
With the decline of political independence the mental powers of the
nation were broken past remedy. No longer borne up by a powerful esprit
de corps, weaned from the habit of working for the common weal, the
majority gave themselves up to the petty interests of private life and
personal affairs. Even the better disposed were too much occupied in
contending against the low tone and corruption of their times, to be
able to devote themselves in moments of relaxation to independent
speculation. What could be expected in such an age as that which
preceded the rise of the Stoic and Epicurean systems, but that
philosophy would become practical itself, if indeed it were studied at
all?
An age like that did not require theoretical knowledge, but it did
require moral bracing and strengthening. If these were not to be had
from popular religion in its then state, was it matter for wonder that
philosophy should be looked to to supply the deficiency, seeing that in
all cultivated circles philosophy had already taken the place of
religion? If we ask in what form, and in what form only, philosophy
could supply the deficiency under the then circumstances, the answer is
not far to seek. There was little room for creative effort, plenty for
sustained endurance; little for activity without, plenty for activity
within; little room for public life, plenty of room for private life.
So utterly hopeless had the public state of Greece become, that even
the few who made it their business to provide a remedy could only gain
for themselves the honour of martyrdom. As matters stood, the only
course open for the best-intentioned was to withdraw entirely within
themselves, to entrench themselves within the safe barriers of their
inner life against outward misfortunes, and to make happiness dependent
entirely on their own inward state.
Stoic apathy, Epicurean self-contentment, and Sceptic imperturbability,
were the doctrines which suited the political helplessness of the age,
and they were therefore the doctrines which met with the most general
acceptance. There was yet another which suited it—viz., the sinking of
national distinctions in the feeling of a common humanity, the
severance of morals from politics which characterises the philosophy of
the Alexandrian and Roman period. The barriers which kept nations apart
had been swept away, together with their national independence: East
and West, Greeks and barbarians, were united in large empires, brought
into communication and forced into comparison with one another in
matters the most important. Philosophy declared that all men are of one
blood and are equally privileged citizens of one empire, that morality
rests on the relation of man to man, and is independent of nationality
and position in the state; but in so doing it only explicitly stated a
truth which was partly realised and partly implied in actual life.
[(2) Intellectual causes.]
The very course which philosophy itself had taken during the previous
century and a half had prepared the way for the turn which now set in.
Socrates and the Sophists, in different ways no doubt, had each devoted
themselves to the practical side of life; and thus the Cynic School was
the precursor of Stoicism, the Cyrenaic of Epicureanism. These two
Schools are, however, only of minor importance in the general progress
of philosophy in the fourth century, and sophistry by the close of the
same century was already a thing of the past. Socrates, it is true,
would have nothing to do with physical enquiries; yet he felt the
desire for knowledge far too keenly to bear comparison with the
post-Aristotelian philosophers. Proposing to concern himself only with
subjects which were of practical use in life, he yet put forth a theory
of knowledge which involved a reform quite as much of speculative as of
practical philosophy, and that reform was accomplished on a grand scale
by Plato and Aristotle.
However little Greek philosophy as a whole developed during the fourth
century along the lines of its subsequent expansion, still the
speculations of Plato and Aristotle necessarily helped to prepare for
the coming charge. The antagonism between the ideal and phenomenal
worlds which Plato set up, and Aristotle vainly attempted to bridge
over, leads ultimately to a contrast between the outer and the inner
life, between thought and the object of thought. The generic
conceptions or forms, which Plato and Aristotle regard as most truly
real, are, after all, fabrications of the human mind. The conception of
reason, even in its expanded form as the divine Reason, or reason of
the world, is an idea formed by abstraction from the inner life. And
what is really meant by identifying form in itself with what is, and
matter with what is possible, or even (as Plato does) with what is not,
or by placing God outside of and in contrast to the world, but the
admission that man finds in his own mind a higher and more real
existence than any which he finds outside of it, and that what is truly
divine and unlimited must be in the mind as an idea, apart from and
independent of all impressions from without? Plato and Aristotle in
fact declared that reason constitutes the real essence of man—reason
coming from above and uniting itself with the body, but in itself
superior to the world of sense and life in time—and that man’s highest
activity is thought, turned away from all external things, and
meditating only on the inner world of ideas. It was only one step
further in the same direction for the post-Aristotelian philosophy to
contemplate man in complete severance from the outer world, and to
refer him to himself for that satisfaction which he can find nowhere
else in life.
[B. Common characteristics of the post-Aristotelian philosophy.]
This step was taken by the Schools of the Stoics, Epicureans, and
Sceptics which appeared in the first half of the third century before
Christ, superseded the influence of the older Schools, and asserted
their supremacy without great variation in their teaching until the
beginning of the first century. In whatever else these three Schools
may differ, at least they agree in two fundamental points, (1) in
subordinating theory to practice, and (2) in the peculiar character of
their practical philosophy.
[(1) Theory subordinated to practice.]
The subordination of theory to practice is most apparent in the School
of Epicurus. It is nearly as clear in the case of the Sceptics, who,
denying all possibility of knowledge, left as the only ground of action
conviction based on probabilities. Both Schools also agree in
considering philosophy as only a means for securing happiness. By the
Stoics, on the other hand, the need of philosophic speculation was felt
more strongly; but even in their case it may be seen that speculation
was not pursued simply for its own sake, but for practical purposes, by
which it was also determined. Thus the Stoics, like the Epicureans, in
the speculative part of their system confined themselves to current
views—thereby showing that the source of their philosophical
peculiarities lay elsewhere than in speculation, and that other studies
had greater value in their eyes, in which also they considered
themselves more proficient. They even expressly stated that the study
of nature is only necessary as a help to the study of virtue. It is
beyond question, that their chief peculiarities, and those which give
them an importance in history, are ethical. The other parts of their
system, more particularly those in which their distinctive tenets
appear, are likewise regulated by practical considerations. This
statement will hereafter be shown in detail. It may suffice to observe
now, that the most important point in the logic of the Stoics—the
question as to the standard of truth—was decided by a practical
postulate; that the fundamental principles of the Stoic metaphysics are
only intelligible from the ground of their ethics; that for natural
science the Stoics did very little; that in their theory of final
causes on which they lay so much stress nature is explained by moral
considerations; and that their natural as well as their positive
theology bears ample testimony to the practical tone of their system.
Standing in advance of the Epicureans by their higher intellectual
training and their learned energy, and in opposition to the Sceptics by
their dogmatism, the Stoics nevertheless agree with both these Schools
in the essentially practical character of their teaching.
[(2) Peculiar mode of dealing with the practical problem.]
This relationship is more strikingly seen in the way in which they deal
with the practical problem. The Epicurean imperturbability is akin to
that of the Sceptics; both resemble the Stoic apathy. All three Schools
are agreed that the only way to happiness consists in peace of mind,
and in avoiding all those disturbances which sometimes arise from
external influences, at other times from internal emotions; they are
only divided as to the means by which peace of mind may be secured.
They are also agreed in making moral activity independent of external
circumstances, and in separating morals from politics, although only
the Stoics set up the doctrine of the original unity of the whole human
family, and insist on being citizens of the world. Through all the
Schools runs the common trait of referring everything to the subject,
and constantly falling back on man and his own inner life, one
consequence of which is the prominence given to action in preference to
speculation, and another that action is determined by personal
certainty, and a mental equilibrium which must be attained by the
exercise of will and the cultivation of the intellect.
[(3) Their peculiarities illustrated by subsequent philosophy.]
The same character belongs to philosophy in the centuries succeeding
the rise of these three Schools; during which the circumstances which
produced that character were not materially altered. In addition to the
followers of the old Schools, Eclectics are now met with, who gather
from every system what seems true and probable. In this process of
selection their guiding principle is regard for the practical wants of
man. Hence the ultimate standard of truth is placed in personal
consciousness. Everything is referred to the subject as its centre. In
ethics and natural theology the Eclectics were mainly indebted to the
Stoics. A new School of Sceptics also arose, not differing in its
tendencies from the older one. Neopythagoreans and Platonists appeared,
not satisfied with human knowledge, but aspiring to higher revelations.
Professing to appeal to the metaphysics of Plato and Aristotle, these
philosophers betray their connection with the later post-Aristotelian
Schools, not only by borrowing largely from the Stoics for the material
for their theology and ethics, but also by their general tone;
knowledge is for them less even than for the Stoics an end in itself,
and they are further from natural science. With them philosophy is
subservient to the interests of religion; its aim is to bring men into
proper relation with God; and the religious needs of mankind are the
highest authority for science.
The same observations apply also to Plotinus and his successors. These
philosophers are not lacking in an elaborate science of metaphysics.
The care which they devoted to this science leaves no doubt as to their
lively interest in scientific completeness and systematic arrangement.
For all that their speculative efforts bear the same relation to the
practical aim of philosophy as those of the Stoics, who in point of
learning and logical elaboration of a system are quite their equals. A
real interest in knowledge was no doubt one of the elements which
brought Neoplatonism into being; but it was not strong enough to
counterbalance another, the practical and religious sentiment. The mind
was not sufficiently independent to be able to get on without appealing
to intellectual and theological authorities; the scientific procedure
was too mixed to lead to a simple study of things as they are. As in
the case of the Neopythagoreans, the ultimate ground of the system is a
religious want. The divine world is only a portion of human thought
projected out of the mind, and incapable of being fully grasped by the
understanding. The highest business of philosophy is to reunite man
with the divine world external to himself. To attain this end, all the
means which science supplies are employed. Philosophy endeavours to
explain the steps by which the finite gradually came to be separated
from the original infinite being; it seeks to bring about a return by a
regular and systematic course; and in this attempt the philosophic
spirit of Greece, by no means extinct, proved its powers by a result of
its kind unrivalled. In the first instance, no doubt, the problem was
so raised as to press philosophy into the service of religion; but, in
the long run, it became apparent that, with the premises assumed, a
scientific solution of the religious question was impossible. The idea
of an original being with which the system started was a reflex of the
religious sentiment, and not the result of scientific research, and the
doctrine of a mystical union with a transcendental being was a
religious postulate, the gratuitous assumption of which betrays an
origin in the mind of the thinker. The platform of Neoplatonism is the
same, therefore, as that of the other post-Aristotelian systems; and it
is hardly necessary in proof of this position to point to the agreement
of Neoplatonism in other respects with Stoicism, and especially in
ethics. Far as the two systems lie asunder, the one standing at the
beginning the other at the end of the post-Aristotelian philosophy,
nevertheless both display one and the same attitude of thought; and we
pass from one to the other by a continuous series of intermediate
links.
In passing from School to School the post-Aristotelian philosophy
assumed, as might be expected, various modifications of character in
course of time; nevertheless, it retained a certain mental habit and
certain common elements. Such was the neglect of intellectual
originality, which drove some thinkers to a sceptical denial of all
knowledge, and induced others to take their knowledge at second hand
from older authorities. Such was the prominence given to practical over
speculative questions. Such was the disregard for natural science, and,
in comparison with former times, the greater importance attached to
theology, apparent not only in the controversy between the Epicureans
and Stoics, but also in the apologetic writings of the Stoics and
Platonists. Such, too, was the negative morality which aimed at
independence of the outer world, at mental composure, and philosophic
contentment; the separation of morals from politics; the moral
universalism and citizenship of the world; the going within self into
the depths of the soul, the will, and the thinking powers; the
deepening of the consciousness accompanied at the same time by a
narrowing and isolation of it, and the loss of a lively interest in the
outer world, and in the simple scientific study thereof.
[C. Development of post-Aristotelian philosophy.]
[(1) Dogmatic Schools.]
[(a) Stoics and Epicureans.]
This mental habit, first of all, found simple dogmatic expression in
philosophical systems. Not only moral science, but also logic and
natural science, were treated in a way consonant with it, although they
were partially built upon older views. In dealing with the moral
problem, two Schools come to view, markedly different and decided in
their peculiarities. The Stoics regard almost exclusively the universal
element in man who seeks contentment within, the Epicureans catch at
the individual side of his being. The Stoics regard man exclusively as
a thinking being, the Epicureans as a creature of feeling. The Stoics
make happiness to consist in subordination to the law of the whole, in
the suppression of personal feelings and inclinations, in virtue; the
Epicureans in individual independence of everything external, in the
unruffled serenity of the inner life, in painlessness. The theoretical
bases of their teaching correspond with these fundamental ethical
positions.
[(b) Dogmatic scepticism.]
Although the rivalry between these two Schools was great, both,
nevertheless, stand on the same platform. Absolute composure of mind,
freedom of the inner life from all disturbance from without, is the
goal at which both aim, although they follow different methods. Hence
it becomes necessary to insist on the common element as the essential
aim and matter of philosophy. If the philosophic axioms of the two
systems contradict one another, it may be thence inferred that the aim
of both may be attained independently of any definite dogmatic view; in
short, knowledge may be despaired of in order to pass from a
recognition of ignorance to a general indifference to everything and to
an unconditional repose of mind. Thus Scepticism is connected with
Stoicism and Epicureanism, as the third chief form of the philosophy of
that age. Apart from Pyrrho’s School, it is most effectually
represented in the New Academy.
[(2) Sceptical Schools.]
[(a) Influences producing Scepticism.]
[(α) Political influence of Rome.]
The rise, the growth, and the conflict of these three Schools, by the
side of which the older Schools have only a subordinate value, occupies
the first portion of the period of post-Aristotelian philosophy, and
extends from the end of the fourth to the beginning of the first
century before Christ. The distinctive features of this epoch consist
partly in the predominance of the above tendencies, and partly in their
separate existence, without modification by intermixture. After the
middle of the second century a gradual change may be observed. Greece
had then become a Roman province, and the intellectual intercourse
between Greece and Rome was continually on the increase. Many learned
Greeks resided at Rome, frequently as the companions of families of
high birth; others living in their own country, were visited by Roman
pupils. Was it possible that in the face of the clearly-defined and
sharply-expressed Roman character, the power and independence of the
Greek intellect, already unquestionably on the decline, would assert
its ancient supremacy? Or that Greeks could become the teachers of
Romans without accommodating themselves to their demands, and
experiencing in turn a reflex influence? Even Greek philosophy could
not withdraw itself from this influence. Its creative power was long
since in abeyance, and in Scepticism it had openly avowed that it could
place no trust in itself. To the practical sense of a Roman no
philosophical system commended itself which did not make for practical
results by the shortest possible route. To him practical needs were the
ultimate standard of truth. Little did he care for strict logic and
argumentative accuracy in scientific procedure. Differences of schools,
so long as they had no practical bearing, were for him of no
importance. No wonder that Greek philosophy, touched by the breath of
Rome, lent itself to Eclecticism!
[(β) Intellectual influence of Alexandria.]
Whilst on the one side of the world the Greeks were falling under the
influence of the nation that had subdued them, on the other they were
assimilating the views of the Oriental nations whom they had subdued by
martial as well as by mental superiority. For two centuries, in
philosophy at least, Greece had held her own against Oriental modes of
thought. Now that her intellectual incapacity continually increased,
those modes of thought gained for themselves a foothold in her
philosophy. Alexandria was the place where the connection of Greece
with the East was first and most completely brought about. In that
centre of commerce for all parts of the globe, East and West entered
into a connection more intimate and more lasting than in any other
centre. Nor was this connection a mere accident of circumstances; it
was also a work of political forecast. From its founder, Ptolemy Soter,
the Ptolemæan dynasty inherited as the principle of government the rule
always to combine what is native with what is foreign, and to clothe
new things in the old and venerable forms of Egyptian custom and
religious ceremony. At Alexandria, accordingly, there arose, towards
the beginning of the first century before Christ, a School calling
itself at first Platonic, afterwards Pythagorean, which later still, in
the shape of Neoplatonism, gained the ascendency over the whole domain
of philosophy. The very fact, however, that such a change in
philosophic views did not appear sooner, is sufficient to show that it
was produced by external circumstances. But notwithstanding external
circumstances it would never have come about had not the intellect of
Greece in the course of its own development been ripe for it.
[(b) Scepticism and Eclecticism.]
The same remark holds good of the rise of that practical Eclecticism
which we have before traced to the influence of Rome. Even in the
period of intellectual exhaustion, Greek philosophy was not simply the
resultant of its outward surroundings, but, under the influence of
outward surroundings, took shape in a way indicated by its previous
progress. If the lingering remains of a few small Schools, which soon
expired, are excepted, there existed, after the beginning of the third
century before Christ, only four great philosophic Schools—the
Peripatetic, the Stoic, the Epicurean, and the School of Platonists.
The last-named of these was converted to Scepticism by Arcesilaus.
These four Schools were all permanently established at Athens, where a
lively interchange of thought took place between them, which renders a
thorough comparison of their several teachings comparatively easy. It
was only natural that they would not long exist side by side without
making overtures towards union and agreement. These overtures were
favoured by Scepticism, which, denying the possibility of knowledge,
only allowed a choice between probabilities, and decided that choice by
the standard of practical needs. Hence, towards the close of the second
century before Christ, these philosophic Schools may be observed to
emerge more or less from their exclusiveness. An eclectic tendency
steals over philosophy, aiming not so much at scientific knowledge as
at attaining certain results for practical use. The distinctive
doctrines of each School drop into the background; and in the belief
that infallibility resides solely in the mind itself, such portions are
selected from each system as seem most in harmony with the selecting
mind. The germ of this eclectic mode of thought lay in Scepticism. On
the other hand, Eclecticism involves doubt. Hence, soon after the
Christian era, a new school of doubt developed, which continued until
the third century. There was thus, on the one hand, a lively interest
in knowledge, which was desired in the practical interest of religion
and morals; and, on the other hand, a disbelief in the truths of
existing knowledge, and, indeed, of knowledge generally, openly avowed
by some as Sceptics, secretly betrayed by others in the unsettledness
of their Eclecticism. These two currents coalescing, led to the thought
that truth, which cannot be found in knowledge, exists somewhere
outside of it, and must be looked for partly in the religious
traditions of the early days of Greece and the East, partly in direct
divine revelation. Then came in such a notion of God, and of His
relations to the world, as accords with this belief in revelation. Man
knowing that truth lies outside himself, and doubting his own
capacities to attain it, removes deity, as the absolute source of
truth, into another world; and because the need of a revelation of
truth still exists, the interval between God and the world is peopled
with intermediate beings, who are sometimes conceived of as
metaphysical entities, and at other times appear as the demons of
popular belief. This mental habit, which is connected with Plato and
Pythagoras, among the older systems, forms the transition to
Neoplatonism. The appearance of Neoplatonism introduces the last stage
in the development of Greek philosophy.
[(3) Religious School of Neoplatonists.]
Yet even this turn in Greek philosophy was not uninfluenced by the
circumstances of the times. Since the end of the second century after
Christ, the decline of the Roman Empire progressed apace. Dread of the
dangers which threatened it on all sides, the pressure of the times and
distress made startling progress. All means of defence hitherto
employed had proved unavailing to stem destruction. With ruin
everywhere impending, the desire and longing for higher assistance
increased. No such assistance was forthcoming from the old gods of Rome
or the religious faith of the day; despite which circumstances were
daily becoming more hopeless. Then it was that the desire for foreign
forms of worship which had been gradually spreading over the Roman
world since the last days of the Republic, and which the circumstances
of the Empire had stimulated, gained ground. That desire was favoured
by the highest power in the state, under the Oriental and half Oriental
emperors who for nearly half a century after Septimius Severus occupied
the imperial throne. The state and the gods of the state were
continually losing their hold on the respect of men. Meanwhile, on the
one hand, Oriental worships, mysteries old and new, and foreign heathen
religions of the most varying kinds, were ever gaining fresh adherents.
On the other, Christianity was rapidly acquiring a power which enabled
it openly to enter the lists for supremacy among the recognised
religions of the state. The powerful monarchs who about the middle of
the third century attempted to refound the Empire, had not for their
object to restore a specifically Roman form of government, but to bring
the various elements which composed the Empire under one sovereign will
by fixed forms of administration. In this attempt Diocletian and
Constantine succeeded. The Roman character asserted itself, as a ruling
and regulating power, but it did so under the influence of another
originally foreign character. The Empire was a congeries of nations
artificially held together, and arranged on a carefully-designed plan;
its centre of gravity lay not within the nation, but in the simple will
of the prince, himself exalted above all rules and laws of state, and
deciding everything without appeal and without responsibility.
In like manner Neoplatonism united all the elements of previous
philosophical Schools into one comprehensive and well-arranged system,
in which each class of existences had its definite place assigned to
it. The initial point in this system, the all-embracing unity, was a
being lying beyond the world, high above every notion that experience
and conception can supply, unmixed with the process of life going on in
the world, and from his unattainable height causing all things, but
himself subject to no conditions of causality. Neoplatonism is the
intellectual reproduction of Byzantine Imperialism. As Byzantine
Imperialism combines Oriental despotism with the Roman idea of the
state, so Neoplatonism supplements the scientific forms of Greek
philosophy with Oriental mysticism.
In Neoplatonism the post-Aristotelian philosophy had manifestly veered
round into its opposite. Self-dependence and the self-sufficingness of
thought made way for implicit resignation to higher powers, for a
craving for revelation, for an ecstatic departure from the sphere of
conscious mental activity. Man has abandoned the idea of truth within
for truth to be found only in God. God stands there as abstract
spirituality removed into another world in contrast to man and the
world of appearances. Speculation has but one aim—to explain the
procession of the finite from the infinite, and the conditions of its
return into the absolute; but neither of these problems can meet with a
satisfactory intellectual solution. Even this form of thought betrays
undeniably the personal character of the post-Aristotelian philosophy,
and is the natural outcome of previous teaching, as will be more fully
seen in the sequel. With it the creative powers of the Greek mind were
exhausted. After being driven step by step during centuries from the
platform of their own national philosophy, the Greeks were eventually
entirely dislodged therefrom by the victory of Christianity.
Neoplatonism made one more futile attempt to rescue the forms of Greek
culture from its mighty rival, but when that attempt failed Greek
religion and Greek philosophy went down together.
PART II.
THE STOICS.