CHAPTER XIV.

THE STOIC PHILOSOPHY AS A WHOLE AND ITS HISTORICAL POSITION.

[A. Inner connection of the Stoic system.]

Having now investigated the Stoic system in detail, we are in a

position to pass a definite judgment on the scope of the Stoic

philosophy, the import and the relation of its various parts, and its

historical position. Its peculiar character manifests itself before all

things in the three points to which attention was drawn at the outset:

[1031]—its pre-eminently practical tone, the determination of this

practical tendency by the notions of the good and of virtue, and the

use of logic and natural science as a scientific basis. Speculative

knowledge is not, as we have seen, to the Stoics an end in itself, but

only a means for producing a right moral attitude; all philosophical

research stands directly or indirectly in the service of virtue. Both

in the earlier and in the later days of its existence the Stoic School

advocated this principle in the most determined and exclusive manner,

nor was it even denied by Chrysippus, the chief representative of its

science and learning.

[(1) Ethical side of Stoicism.]

If it be then asked what is the right moral attitude, the Stoics reply:

action conformable to nature and reason—in other words, virtue. Virtue,

however, implies two things. On the one hand it implies the resignation

of the individual to the universe, obedience to the universal law; on

the other hand it implies the harmony of man with himself, the dominion

of the higher over the lower nature, of reason over emotion, and the

rising superior to everything which does not belong to his true nature.

Both statements may be reconciled, because the law of morality is

addressed only to reasonable beings, and is the law of their nature,

and can only be carried into execution by their own exertions. Still,

in the Stoic ethics, two currents of thought may be clearly

distinguished, which from time to time come into actual collision; the

one requiring the individual to live for the common good and for

society, the other impelling him to live for himself only, to

emancipate himself from all that is not himself, and to console himself

with the feeling of virtue. The first of these tendencies impels man to

seek the society of others; the second enables him to dispense with it.

From the former spring the virtues of justice, sociability, love of

man; from the latter, the inner freedom and happiness of the virtuous

man. The former culminates in citizenship of the world; the latter in

the self-sufficingness of the wise man. In as far as virtue includes

everything that can be required of man, happiness depends on it alone;

nothing is good but virtue, nothing is evil but vice; all that is not

connected with the moral nature is indifferent. On the other hand, in

as far as virtue is based on human nature, it stands on the same

footing with all else that is conformable with nature. If its own

peculiar value cannot be surrendered, no more can it be required that

we should be indifferent to its conformity to nature, that it should

not have for us some positive or negative value, or in some way affect

our feelings. Therewith the doctrine of things indifferent and the wise

man’s freedom from emotions begins to totter. Lastly, if we look at the

way in which virtue exists in man, we arrive at different results,

according as we look at its essence or its manifestation. Virtue

consists in acting conformably with reason, and reason is one and

undivided; hence it appears that virtue forms an undivided unity, and

must be possessed whole and entire or not at all. From this proposition

the contrast of the wise and foolish man, with all its bluntness and

extravagances, is only a legitimate consequence. Or, again, if we look

at the conditions upon which, owing to human nature, the acquisition

and possession of virtue depends, the conviction is inevitable that the

wise man as drawn by the Stoics never occurs in reality. Hence the

conclusion is undeniable that the contrast between wise men and fools

is more uncertain than it at first appeared to be. Thus all the main

features of the Stoic ethics may be simply deduced from their one

fundamental notion, that rational action or virtue is the only good.

[(2) Scientific side of the Stoic system.]

Not only does this view of ethics require a peculiar theory of the

world to serve as its scientific basis, but it has a reflex action

also, influencing alike the tone and the results of theoretic enquiry.

If the duty of man is declared to consist in bringing his actions into

harmony with the laws of the universe, it becomes also necessary that

he should endeavour himself to know the world and its laws. The more

his knowledge of the world increases, the greater will be the value

which he attaches to the forms of scientific procedure. If, moreover,

man is required to be nothing more than an instrument of the universal

law, it is only consistent to suppose an absolute regularity of

procedure in the universe, an unbroken connection of cause and effect,

and ultimately to refer everything to one highest all-moving cause, and

to include everything under one primary substance. If in human life the

individual has no rights as against the laws of the universe, then all

that is of individual occurrence in the world is powerless against

universal necessity. On the other hand, if in the case of man

everything turns upon strength of will, then likewise in the universe

the acting power must be regarded as the highest and most exalted.

There arises thus that view of the world as a series of forces which

constitutes one of the most peculiar and thorough-going characteristics

of the Stoic view of nature. [1032] Lastly, if such excessive

importance is attached to practical conduct as is done by the Stoics,

that sensuous view of the world which finds its crudest expression in

the Stoic Materialism and reliance on the senses, [1033] will most

nearly accord with speculation. At the same time the Materialism of the

Stoics is limited and corrected by the conception of the universe and

of a divine all-penetrating power and reason, just as their appeal to

the senses is by the demand for the formation of conceptions, and the

general application of the process of demonstration; the truth of

knowledge itself is based on a practical postulate, the greater or less

certainty of which is measured by the strength of personal conviction.

If these elements proved too contradictory to be harmonised; if the

Materialism of the Stoics was at variance with their view of the world

as a series of forces; if appeals to the senses were obviously in

conflict with logical method, it was at least thereby clearly

established that a practical and not a purely intellectual interest lay

at the root of their system.

[(3) Connection of the moral and scientific elements.]

This statement must of course not be taken to mean that the Stoics

first developed their ethical principles independently of their theory

of the universe, and afterwards brought the two into connection with

each other. On the contrary, it was by the peculiar connection of

theory and practice that Stoicism itself first came into existence. The

leading thought of Zeno consists in the attempt to vindicate the

supremacy of virtue by a scientific knowledge of the laws of the world;

and he becomes the founder of a new School only by bringing to Cynicism

those scientific ideas and aims which he had learned himself in the

School of Polemo, Stilpo, and Diodorus, or otherwise gathered from a

study of ancient philosophy. These elements are not therefore

accidentally brought together in Stoicism, but they are co-extensive,

and dependent one upon the other. As in the natural science and theory

of knowledge of the Stoics, the experimental basis on which their

system was built may be easily seen, so the peculiar development of

their ethics supposes all those positions respecting the universe and

the powers therein at work, which form the most important part of their

natural science. Only by a scientific treatment of this kind was

Stoicism at all able to improve upon the imperfection of the Cynic

ethics, so far at least as it really did so, and to accommodate itself

to the wants of human nature, so far as to be able to exercise an

influence at large. Upon this union of ethics and metaphysics that

religious attitude of the Stoic system reposes, to which it owes in a

great measure its historical importance. Thereby it occupies so

influential a position in an age in which intellectual power was indeed

declining, but in which the interest for science was keen. But that

Stoic physics and metaphysics should have adopted this line, and no

other; that Zeno and his followers, who draw on former systems for

their own on the most extensive scale, should have borrowed from these

systems these and no other positions, and expanded them in this and no

other direction; these results are, doubtless, ultimately due to their

moral attitude. All that bore on the subject of ethics, and supported

it, they appropriated; all that was opposed thereto they rejected. The

Stoic system as such owes its rise to a union of ethical and

speculative elements, in which both were more definitely determined by

one another; still the ethical platform is the one on which its

formation commences, and which primarily determined its course and

results.

[B. Relation of Stoicism to previous systems.]

[(1) Its relation to Socrates and the Cynics.]

In order to obtain a more accurate notion of the rise of Stoicism, the

premises on which it proceeds, and the grounds on which it is based, we

must take a glance at its relation to preceding systems. The Stoics

themselves deduced their philosophical pedigree directly from

Antisthenes, and indirectly from Socrates. [1034] Clear as is their

connection with both these philosophers, it would nevertheless be a

mistake to regard their teaching as a revival of Cynicism, still more

to regard it as a simple following of Socrates. From both it

undoubtedly borrowed much. The self-sufficiency of virtue, the

distinction of things good, evil, and indifferent, the ideal picture of

the wise man, the whole withdrawal from the outer world within the

precincts of the mind, and the strength of moral will, are ideas taken

from the Cynics. In the spirit of Cynicism, too, it explained general

ideas as simply names. Not to mention many peculiarities of ethics, the

contrasting of one God with the many popular Gods, and the allegorical

explanation of myths, were likewise points borrowed from Cynicism. The

identification of virtue with intelligence, the belief that virtue was

one, and could be imparted by teaching, were at once in the spirit of

Socrates and also in that of the Cynics. The argument for the existence

of God based on the subordination of means to ends, the whole view of

the world as a system of means and ends, and the Stoic theory of

Providence, are views peculiarly Socratic; [1035] and the Stoics

followed Socrates in ethics by identifying the good and the useful.

And yet the greatness of the interval which separates the Stoics even

from the Cynics becomes at once apparent on considering the relation of

Aristo to the rest of the Stoic School. In refusing to meddle with

natural or mental science, or even with ethical considerations at all,

Aristo faithfully reflects the principles of Antisthenes. In asserting

the unity of virtue to such an extent that all virtues are merged in

one, he was only repeating similar expressions of Antisthenes. In

denying any difference in value to things morally indifferent, and in

placing the highest morality in this indifference, he was, according to

the older writers, reasserting a Cynic tenet. [1036] Conversely in

denying these statements, as the great majority of Stoics did, the

points are indicated in which Stoicism differed from Cynicism. [1037]

In the feeling of moral independence, and in invincible strength of

will, the Cynic is opposed to the whole world; he needs for virtue no

scientific knowledge of the world and its laws; he regards nothing

external to himself; he allows nothing to influence his conduct, and

attaches value to nothing; but, in consequence, he remains with his

virtue confined to himself; virtue makes him independent of men and

circumstances, but it has neither the will nor the power to interpose

effectively in the affairs of life, and to infuse therein new moral

notions. Stoicism insists upon the self-sufficiency of virtue quite as

strongly as Cynicism, and will allow quite as little that anything

except virtue can be a good in the strictest sense of the term. But in

Stoicism the individual is not nearly so sharply opposed to the outer

world as in Cynicism. The Stoic is too cultivated; he knows too well

that he is a part of the universe to ignore the value of an

intellectual view of the world, or to neglect the natural conditions of

moral action, as things of no moment. What he aims at is not only a

negation—independence from externals—but a positive position—life

according to nature; and that life only he considers according to

nature which is in harmony with the laws of the universe as well as

with those of human nature. Hence Stoicism is not only far in advance

of Cynicism by its intellectual attitude, but its moral philosophy also

breathes a freer and milder spirit. Let only the principles of the

Stoics on the necessity and value of scientific knowledge be compared

with the sophistical assertions of Antisthenes, destructive of all

knowledge; or the cultivated logical form of the intellectual edifice

of the Stoics, with the chaotic condition of Cynic thought; or the

careful metaphysical and psychological researches and the copious

learning of the School of Chrysippus, with the Cynics’ contempt for all

theory and all learned research, and it becomes apparent at once how

deep-seated is the difference between the two systems, and how little

Stoicism as a philosophic system can be deduced from Cynicism.

In ethics, too, the difference of the two Schools is also fully

apparent. Stoic morality recognises, at least conditionally, a positive

and negative value in external things and circumstances; the Cynic

allows to these absolutely no value. The former forbids affection

contrary to reason, the latter any and every kind of affection. [1038]

The former throws the individual back upon human society, the latter

isolates him. The former teaches citizenship of the world in a positive

sense, requiring all to feel themselves one with their fellow-men; the

latter in a negative sense, that of feeling indifferent to home and

family. The former has a pantheistic tone about it, due to the lively

feeling of the connection between man and the universe, and a definite

theological stamp owing to its taking a stand by positive religion; the

latter has a rationalistic character, owing to the enfranchisement of

the wise man from the prejudices of popular belief, with which it has

exclusively to do. In all these respects Stoicism preserves the

original character of the Socratic philosophy far better than Cynicism,

which only caricatured them. Still it departs from that character in

two respects. In point of theory the Stoic doctrine received a

systematic form and development such as Socrates never contemplated;

and in natural science, it cultivated a field avoided by Socrates on

principle, however much its doctrine of Providence, and its view of

nature as a system of means subordinated to ends, may remind of

Socrates. On the other hand, interest in science, although limited to

the subject of ethics, is with Socrates far deeper and stronger than

with the Stoics, the latter pursuing scientific research only as a

means for solving moral problems. Hence the Socratic theory of a

knowledge of conceptions, simple though it may sound, contained a

fruitful germ of unexpanded speculation, in comparison with which all

that the Stoics did is fragmentary. The Stoic ethics are not only more

expanded and more carefully worked out in detail than those of

Socrates, but they are also more logical in clinging to the principle

that virtue alone is an unconditional good. There are no concessions to

current modes of thought, such as Socrates allowed, who practically

based his doctrine of morals upon utility. On the other hand, the moral

science of the Stoics also falls far short of the frankness and

cheerfulness of the Socratic view of life. If in many respects it toned

down the asperities of Cynicism, still it appropriated its leading

principles far too unreservedly to avoid accepting a great number of

its conclusions.

Asking in the next place in how far the Stoics were induced by other

influences to change and extend the platform of the Socratic

philosophy, we have for determining the practical side of their system,

besides the general tendency of the post-Aristotelian [(2) Relation to

Megarians and Heraclitus.] philosophy, the example of Cynicism. Its

speculative development, on the other hand, is partly connected with

the Megarians, partly with Heraclitus; to the Megarians the personal

connection of Zeno with Stilpo points, to Heraclitus the fact that from

him the Stoics themselves deduced their views on natural science, which

they expanded in commentaries on his writings. [1039]

[(a) The Megarians.]

Probably the Megarian influence must not be rated too high. Zeno may

have thence received an impulse to that reasoning habit which appears

with him in a preference for compressed sharp-pointed syllogisms;

[1040] but in post-Aristotelian times, contact with Megarians was no

longer wanted for this, and the greatest reasoner among the Stoics,

Chrysippus, appears not only to have had no personal relations to them,

but his logic is throughout a simple continuation of that of Aristotle.

[(b) Heraclitus.]

Far greater, and more generally recognised, is the importance of the

influence which the views on nature of the philosopher of Ephesus

exercised on the Stoics. A system which laid such emphasis on the

subordination of everything individual to the law of the universe,

which singled out universal reason from the flux of things as the one

thing everlastingly and permanently the same—a system in many other

ways so nearly related to their own, must have strongly commended

itself to their notice, and offered them many points with which to

connect their own. If to us the view that life is dependent for its

existence on matter is repulsive, it was otherwise to the Stoics; for

them this very theory possessed special attractions. Hence, with the

exception of the threefold division of the elements, there is hardly a

single point in the Heraclitean theory of nature which the Stoics did

not appropriate:—fire or ether as the primary element, the oneness of

this element with universal reason, the law of the universe, destiny,

God, the flux of things, the gradual change of the primary element into

the four elements, and of these back to the primary element, the

regular alternation of creation and conflagration in the world, the

oneness and eternity of the universe, the description of the soul as

fiery breath, the identification of the mind with the demon, the

unconditional sovereignty of the universal law over individuals—these

and many other points in the Stoic system, originally derived from

Heraclitus, [1041] prove how greatly this system is indebted to him.

Nor must it be forgotten that there is nothing in Heraclitus analogous

to the reasoning forms of the Stoics, nor can their ethical views be

referred to his few and undeveloped hints. With all the importance the

Stoics attached to natural science, it is with them only subordinate to

moral science; and the very fact that it is referred to Heraclitus as

its author, proves its inferior position, and the want of any

independent interest in the subject. It is also unmistakeable that even

in natural science the Stoics only partially follow Heraclitus, and

that principles taken from Heraclitus often bear an altered meaning

when wrought into the Stoic system. Omitting minor points, not only is

the Stoic doctrine of nature in a formal point of view far more

developed, and with regard to its extension far more comprehensive,

than the corresponding doctrine of Heraclitus, but the whole Stoic view

of the world is by no means so completely identical with his as might

be supposed. The flux of things, which the Stoics teach equally with

Heraclitus, [1042] has not for them that overwhelming importance that

it had for him. The matter of which the universe consists may be always

going over into new forms, but, at the same time, it is for them the

permanent material and essence of things. [1043] Individual substances,

too, are treated by the Stoics as corporeally permanent. [1044]

Moreover, from the material they distinguish the active principle,

Reason or deity, far more definitely than Heraclitus had done, and the

same distinction is carried into individual things in the contrast

between matter and quality. Thereby it becomes possible for them to

contrast much more sharply than their predecessor had done the reason

of the world, and the blindly working power of nature. Heraclitus, it

would appear, confined his attention to observing nature and describing

its elementary meteorological processes. But the natural science of the

Stoics includes the idea of means working for ends. It sees the object

in referring the whole arrangement of the world to man, and it pursues

this line of thought exclusively, neglecting in consequence science

proper. Hence the idea of sovereign reason or the universal law had not

the same meaning in the minds of both. Heraclitus sees this reason,

primarily and chiefly, in the ordinary sequence of natural phenomena,

in the regularity of the course by which to each individual phenomenon

its place in the world, its extent and duration are prescribed—in

short, in the unchanging coherence of nature. Without excluding this

aspect in their proofs of the existence of God and the rule of

Providence, the Stoics attach the chief importance to the

serviceableness of the order of nature. The reason which rules the

world appears in Heraclitus primarily as a natural power; in the

Stoics, as intelligence working with a purpose. For Heraclitus Nature

is the highest object, the object of independent and absolute interest;

and hence the infinite Being is no more than the power which forms the

world. The Stoics regard nature from the platform of humanity, as a

means for the wellbeing and activity of man. Their deity accordingly

does not work as a simple power of nature, but essentially as the

wisdom which cares for the wellbeing of man. The highest conception in

the system of Heraclitus is that of nature or destiny. Stoicism

accepted this conception also, but at the same time developed it to the

higher idea of Providence.

[(3) Connection with Aristotle.]

Shall we be wrong if we attribute this modification of the Heraclitean

theory of nature by the Stoics partly to the influence of Socrates’ and

Plato’s theory of final causes, but in a still greater degree to the

influence of the Aristotelian philosophy? To Aristotle belongs properly

the idea of matter without qualities, no less than the distinction

between a material and a formal cause. Aristotle applied the idea of

purpose to natural science far more extensively than any other system

had done before; and although the mode in which the Stoics expressed

this idea has more resemblance to the popular theological statements of

Socrates and Plato than to Aristotle, still the Stoic conception of a

natural power working with a purpose, such as is contained in the idea

of artificial fire and λόγοι σπερματικοὶ, is essentially Aristotelian.

Even many positions which appear to be advanced in opposition to

Aristotle were yet connected with him. Thus the existence of ether as a

body distinct from the four elements is denied, and yet in point of

fact it is asserted under a new name—that of artificial fire. The

Peripatetic doctrine of the origin of the rational soul is contradicted

by the Stoic theory of development, and yet the latter is based on a

statement in Aristotle to the effect that the germ of the animal soul

lies in the warm air [1045] which surrounds the seed, warm air which

Aristotle distinguishes from fire quite as carefully as Zeno and

Cleanthes distinguished the two kinds of fire. Even the point of

greatest divergence from Aristotelian teaching—the transformation of

the human soul and the divine spirit into something corporeal—might yet

be connected with Aristotle, and, indeed, the Peripatetic School here

comes to their assistance. For had not Aristotle described the ether as

the most divine body, the stars formed out of it as divine and happy

beings? Had he not brought down the acting and moving forces from a

heavenly sphere to the region of earth? Had he not, as we have just

seen, sought the germ of the soul in an ethereal matter? And might not

others go a little further and arrive at materialistic views? and all

the more so, seeing how hard it is to conceive the extra-mundane

intelligence of Aristotle, at once as incorporeal, and yet touching and

encircling the world of matter, and to make personal unity in the human

soul accord with an origin in a reason coming from above?

The way for Stoicism was more directly paved by the Aristotelian

speculations as to the origin of notions and conceptions. Here the

Stoics did little more than omit (in conformity with their principles)

what their predecessor had said as to an original possession and

immediate knowledge of truth. It has been remarked on an earlier

occasion how closely their formal logic followed that of Aristotle;

they contented themselves with building on Aristotelian foundations,

and even their additions have more reference to grammar than to logic.

The actual influence of Peripatetic views on those of the Stoics

appears to have been least in the province of ethics. Here the crudity

of the Stoic conception of virtue, the entire suppression of emotions,

the absolute exclusion of everything external from the circle of moral

goods, the distinction between the wise and the foolish man, the

attacks on a purely speculative life, present a sharp contrast to the

caution and many-sidedness of Aristotle’s moral theory, to his careful

weighing of current opinions and their practicability, to his

recognition of propriety in every shape and form, and to the praise

which he lavishes on a purely speculative life. What the Stoics chiefly

owe to Aristotle is the formal treatment of the materials and the

psychological analysis of individual moral faculties. On the other

hand, the province of ethics must be looked to for traces of the

teaching which Zeno received from Polemo, perhaps even from Xenocrates.

[(4) Connection with Plato.]

The speculative portions of Plato’s teaching could offer no great

attractions to practical men and materialists like the Stoics, either

in their original form or in the form which they assumed in the older

Academy under Pythagorean influence. On the other hand, such points in

Platonism as the Socratic habit of making knowledge the foundation of

virtue, the comparative depreciation of external goods, the

disparagement of all that is sensual, the elevation and the purity of

moral idealism, and, in the older Academy, the demand for life

according to nature, the doctrine of the self-sufficingness of virtue,

and the growing tendency to confine philosophy to practical issues—all

these were questions for a Stoic full of interest. Unfounded as the

notion of the later Eclectics is, [1046] that the Stoic and Academician

systems of morality were altogether the same, the Stoics, nevertheless,

appear to have received suggestions from the Academy which they carried

out in a more determined spirit. Thus the theory of living according to

nature belongs originally to the Academy, although the Stoics adopted

it with a peculiar and somewhat different meaning. Besides influencing

the moral doctrines of the Stoics, the attitude assumed by the older

Academy towards positive religion may also have had some influence on

their orthodoxy; their most prominent representative, Cleanthes, is in

his whole philosophic character the counterpart of Xenocrates. Although

later in its origin than Stoicism, the new Academy was not without

important influence on that system, through the person of Chrysippus,

but this influence was at first only of an indirect kind, inasmuch as

it obliged the Stoics by its logical contradiction to look about for a

more logical basis for their system, and therewith to attempt a more

systematic expansion of their teaching. [1047] Somewhat similar is the

effect of Epicureanism, which by its strong opposition in the field of

ethics imparted decision and accuracy to the Stoic doctrine, and thus

indirectly helped to form it.

[C. The Stoic philosophy as a whole.]

[(1) Its historical position.]

By the aid of these remarks it now becomes possible to give a

satisfactory account of the history of Stoicism. Belonging to an age of

moral debasement and political oppression, its founder, Zeno, conceived

the idea of liberating himself and all who were able to follow him from

its degeneracy and slavery by means of a philosophy which, by purity

and strength of moral will, would procure independence from all

external things, and unruffled inward peace. That his endeavours should

have taken this practical turn, that he should have proposed to himself

not knowledge as such, but the moral exercise of knowledge as the

object to be realised, was in part due to his own personal character,

and may be in part referred to the general circumstances of the times.

On nobler and more serious minds, these circumstances weighed too

heavily not to call forth opposition and resistance in place of

listless contemplation. The sway of the Macedonian, and afterwards of

the Roman Empire, was far too despotic to allow the least prospect of

open resistance. Nor must it be overlooked that philosophy itself had

reached a pass at which satisfactory answers to speculative problems

were no longer forthcoming; hence attention was naturally directed to

questions of morals.

Haunted by this longing for virtue, Zeno must have felt attracted by a

system of philosophy which had at an earlier period followed a similar

course with marked success, viz. the system of the Cynics, and what he

doubtless identified therewith, the old Socratic teaching. [1048]

Anxious to find a positive meaning and scientific basis for virtue, he

strove to appropriate from every system whatever agreed with the bent

of his own mind. By using all the labours of his predecessors, and

keeping his eye steadily fixed upon the practical end of philosophy, he

succeeded in forming a new and more comprehensive system, which was

afterwards completed by Chrysippus. In point of form this system was

most indebted to the Peripatetic philosophy; in point of matter, next

to its debt to the Cynics, which has been already mentioned, its chief

obligation was to Heraclitus. But the moral theory of the Stoics was as

little identical with that of the Cynics, as the natural science of the

Stoics was with that of Heraclitus. If the divergence was, in the first

instance, due to the influence of the Stoic principles, still the

influence of the Peripatetic teaching is unmistakeable in the natural

and speculative science of the Stoics, and the influence of the Academy

in their moral science. Stoicism does not, therefore, appear simply as

a continuation of Cynicism, nor yet as an isolated innovation, but,

like every other form of thought which marks an epoch, it worked up

into itself all previous materials, and produced from their combination

a new result. In this process of assimilation much that was beautiful

and full of meaning was omitted; everything was absorbed that could be

of use in the new career on which the Greek mind was about to enter.

[(2) Its onesidedness.]

It was the fault of the age that it could no longer come up to the

many-sidedness of an Aristotle or a Plato. Stoicism, it is true,

approximates thereto more nearly than any other of the

post-Aristotelian systems. But in its practical view of philosophy, in

its materialistic appeal to the senses, in its theoretical

self-sufficiency, setting up the wise man as superior to the weaknesses

and wants of human nature; in its citizenship of the world, throwing

political interests into the background; and in so many other traits it

is the fit exponent of an epoch in which the taste for purely

scientific research and the delight in ethical speculation were at an

end, whilst out of the overthrow of states, and the growth of freedom,

the idea of humanity was coming to the fore. Stoicism represented most

powerfully the moral and religious convictions of such an age, yet not

without onesidedness and exaggeration. By exercise of the will and by

rational understanding, man is to become free and happy. This aim is,

however, pursued so persistently that the natural conditions of human

existence and the claims of individuality are ignored. To man, regarded

as the exponent of universal law, as little freedom of will is allowed

by the Stoic natural science in face of the inexorable course of nature

as freedom of action is allowed by the Stoic ethics in face of the

demands of duty. The universal claims of morality are alone

acknowledged; the right of the individual to act according to his

peculiar character, and to develop that character, is almost ignored.

The individual, as such, dwindles into obscurity, whilst a high place

in the world is assigned to mankind collectively. The individual is

subordinated to the law of the whole; but by regarding nature as a

system of means and ends, and introducing the belief in Providence and

Prophecy, the universe is again subordinated to the interests of man—a

view against which a more careful research has many objections to urge.

In both respects Epicureanism is in decided contrast to Stoicism,

though agreeing with it in the general tone of its practical philosophy

and in its aim to make man independent of the outer world and happy in

himself.

PART III.

THE EPICUREANS.

CHAPTER XV.

EPICURUS AND THE EPICUREAN SCHOOL. [1049]

[A. Epicurus.]

Epicurus, the son of the Athenian Neocles, [1050] was born in Samos

[1051] in the year 342 or 341 B.C. [1052] His early education appears

to have been neglected; [1053] and his knowledge of previous

philosophic systems was very superficial, even at the time when he

first came forward as an independent teacher. Still he can hardly have

been so entirely self-taught as he wished to appear at a later period

in life. The names, at least, of the individuals are on record who

instructed him in the systems of Democritus and Plato; [1054] and

although it is by no means an ascertained fact that he subsequently

attended the lectures of Xenocrates, [1055] on the occasion of a visit

to Athens, [1056] no doubt can be felt that he was acquainted with the

writings of previous philosophers, from whom he borrowed important

parts of his system [1057] and more particularly with those of

Democritus.

After having been engaged as a teacher in several Schools [1058] in

Asia Minor, he repaired to Athens about the year 306 B.C., [1059] and

there founded a School of his own. [1060] The meeting-place of this

School was the founder’s garden, [1061] and its centre of attraction

was the founder himself, around whom a circle of friends gathered, knit

together by a common set of principles, by a common affection for a

master whom they almost worshipped, and by a common enjoyment of

cultivated society. [1062] Opponents charged the Epicureans with gross

impropriety, because they admitted not only women, [1063] but women of

loose morality, [1064] to this circle of philosophic culture; but in

the then state of Greek society, such conduct does not appear

extraordinary. Here Epicurus laboured for six and thirty years, during

which he succeeded in impressing a stamp on his School which is now

seen definite and unchanged after the lapse of centuries. In the year

270 B.C. [1065] he succumbed to disease, the pains and troubles of

which he bore with great fortitude. [1066] Out of the multitude of his

writings [1067] only a few have come down to us, and these are for the

most part unimportant ones. [1068] On the whole, these fragments [1069]

bear out the unfavourable opinions which opponents have expressed with

regard to his style. [1070]

[B. Scholars of Epicurus.]

Among the numerous scholars of Epicurus [1071] the best known are

Metrodorus [1072] and Polyænus, [1073] both of whom died before their

master; Hermarchus, [1074] upon whom the presidency of the School

devolved after the death of Epicurus; [1075] and Colotes, [1076]

against whom Plutarch, four hundred years later, wrote a treatise. Many

others are also known, at least by name. [1077] The garden which

Epicurus in his will left to the School [1078] continued after his

death to be the external rallying-point for his followers. Hermarchus

was succeeded by Polystratus, [1079] with whom Hippoclides is also

mentioned [1080] as joint-president. Hermarchus and Hippoclides were

succeeded by Dionysius, and Dionysius again by Basilides. [1081]

Protarchus of Bargylium, [1082] and his pupil, Demetrius the Laconian,

[1083] appear to belong to the second century before Christ; but the

time in which these philosophers flourished cannot be established with

certainty; and the same remark applies to several others whose names

are on record. [1084]

[C. Epicureans of the Roman period.]

Before the middle of the second century B.C. Epicureanism is said to

have obtained a footing in Rome. [1085] It is certain that it existed

there not long afterwards. C. Amafinius is mentioned as the first who

paved the way for the spread of Epicurean doctrines by discussing them

in Latin; [1086] and it is stated that these doctrines soon found many

supporters, attracted partly by their merits, but more often by the

simplicity and the ease with which they could be understood. [1087]

Towards the close of the second century Apollodorus, one of the most

voluminous writers on philosophy, taught at Athens. [1088] His pupil,

Zeno of Sidon, the most important among the Epicureans of that age,

laboured for a long time successfully, both orally and in writing.

[1089] About the same time Phædrus is heard of in Rome and Athens,

[1090] and at a little later period Philodemus, [1091] and Syro or

Sciro in Rome, [1092] and Patro, [1093] the successor of Phædrus, in

Athens. The number of Epicureans at Rome, known to us chiefly from

Cicero’s writings, [1094] is not small. No one of them has obtained a

higher repute than T. Lucretius Carus. [1095] His poem, carefully

reproducing the Epicurean notions on natural science, is one of the

most valuable sources for the knowledge of their system. Contemporary

with Lucretius was the celebrated physician Asclepiades of Bithynia,

[1096] who resided at Rome, but to judge by the views on nature

attributed to him, he was no genuine Epicurean, although connected with

the Epicurean School. [1097]

In the following century several supporters of the practical philosophy

of the Epicureans are known to us, [1098] but no one apparently

approaching Zeno or Phædrus in scientific importance. Rehabilitated

under the Antonines by the establishment of a public chair in Athens,

the Epicurean School outlived most other systems, and continued to

exist as late as the fourth century after Christ. [1099]

CHAPTER XVI.

CHARACTER AND DIVISIONS OF THE EPICUREAN TEACHING: THE TEST-SCIENCE OF

TRUTH.

[A. Character of Epicurean system.]

[(1) Its power of self-preservation.]

The scientific value and capacity for development of Epicureanism are

out of all proportion to its extensive diffusion and the length of time

during which it continued to flourish. No other system troubled itself

so little about the foundation on which it rested; none confined itself

so exclusively to the utterances of its founder. Such was the dogmatism

with which Epicurus propounded his precepts, such the conviction he

entertained of their excellence, that his pupils were required to

commit summaries of them to memory; [1100] and the superstitious

devotion for the founder was with his approval [1101] carried to such a

length, that on no single point was the slightest deviation from his

tenets permitted. Although, even in Cicero’s time, the writings of

Epicurus and Metrodorus found hardly a reader outside the School,

[1102] yet it is asserted that as late as the first and second

centuries after Christ the Epicureans clung tenaciously to their

master’s teaching. [1103] Probably it was easier for an Epicurean than

for any other thinker to act thus. Like his master, [1104] he was

indifferent to the labours of other philosophers, or unable to

appreciate their merits. [1105] For us this conduct of theirs has one

advantage: we can be far more certain that the Epicurean teaching

reflects that of the founder than we can that this is so in the case of

the Stoics. But this philosophical sterility, this mechanical handing

down of unchangeable principles, places the intellectual value of

Epicureanism on the lowest level. The servile dependence of the

Epicurean School on its founder can neither excuse its mental idleness

nor recommend a system so powerless to give an independent training to

its supporters.

[(2) Aim of philosophy according to the Epicureans.]

The want of intellectual taste here displayed appears also in the view

taken by Epicurus of the aim and business of philosophy. If among the

Stoics the subordination of theory to practice was frequently felt,

among the Epicureans this subordination was carried to such an extent

as to lead to a depreciation of all science. The aim of philosophy was,

with them, to promote human happiness. Indeed, philosophy is nothing

else than an activity helping us to happiness by means of speech and

thought. [1106] Nor is happiness, according to Epicurus, directly

promoted by knowledge, but only indirectly in as far as knowledge

ministers to practical needs, or clears away hindrances to their

attainment. All science which does not serve this end is superfluous

and worthless. [1107] Epicurus, therefore, despised learning and

culture, the researches of grammarians, and the lore of historians, and

declared it a piece of good fortune for simplicity of feeling to be

uncontaminated by learned rubbish. [1108] Nor was his opinion different

respecting mathematical science, of which he was wholly ignorant.

[1109] The calculations of mathematicians, he maintained, are based on

false principles; [1110] at any rate, they contribute nothing to human

happiness, and it is therefore useless and foolish to trouble oneself

about them. [1111] The theory of music and poetry he likewise found

exceedingly irksome, although he took pleasure in music itself and the

theatre; [1112] and rhetoric, as an artificial guide to eloquence,

seemed to him as worthless as the show-speeches which are the only

result of the study of it. The power of public speaking is a matter of

practice and of momentary feeling, and hence the skilful speaker is far

from being a good statesman. [1113] The greater part of logical

enquiries fared no better in his judgment. Himself no logician, he set

little store by logic. Definitions are of no use; the theory of

division and proof may be dispensed with; the philosopher does best to

confine himself to words, and to leave all the logical ballast alone.

[1114] Of all the questions which engrossed the attention of Stoic

logicians, one only, the theory of knowledge, was studied by Epicurus,

and that in a very superficial way. [1115]

Far greater, comparatively, was the importance he attached to the study

of nature, [1116] but even natural science was deemed valuable not so

much for its own sake as because of its practical use. The knowledge of

natural causes is the only means of liberating the soul from the

shackles of superstition; this is the only use of natural science. If

it were not for the thought of God and the fear of death, there would

be no need of studying nature. [1117] The investigation of our

instincts is also of use, because it helps us to control them, and to

keep them within their natural bounds. [1118] Thus the onesided

practical view of philosophy which we have already encountered in

Stoicism was carried by the Epicureans to an extreme length.

[(3) Divisions of philosophy.]

Nor is it otherwise than in harmony herewith that logic did not receive

a fuller or more perfect treatment in the further development of their

system. Even the study of nature, going far more fully into particulars

than logic, was guided entirely by practical considerations, all

scientific interest in nature being ignored. Following the usual

method, however, the Epicureans divided philosophy into three parts

[1119]—logic, natural science, and moral science. Limiting the first of

these parts to one branch of logic, the part which deals with the

characteristics of truth, and which they therefore called neither

logic, nor dialectic, but Canonic, they really reduced this part to a

mere introductory appendage to the two other parts, [1120] and studied

Canonic as a part of natural science. [1121] Natural science moreover

was so entirely subordinated to moral science, that we might almost

feel tempted to follow some modern writers [1122] in their view of the

Epicurean system, by giving to moral science precedence of the two

other parts, or at least of natural science. [1123] The School,

however, followed the usual order, and not without reason; [1124] for

although the whole tendency of the Epicurean Canonic and natural

science can only, like the Stoic, be explained by a reference to moral

science, yet moral science with them presupposes the test-science of

truth and natural science. We shall, therefore, do well to treat of

Canonic in the first place, and subsequently to prove how this branch

of study depends on Ethics.

[B. Canonic or the test-science of truth.]

[(1) Sensation and perception.]

Canonic or the test-science of truth, as has been observed, is occupied

with investigating the standard of truth, and with enquiring into the

mode of acquiring knowledge. The whole of formal logic, the doctrine of

the formation of conceptions and conclusions, is omitted by Epicurus.

[1125] Even the theory of the acquisition of knowledge assumes with him

a very simple form. If the Stoics were fain, notwithstanding their

ideal ethics and their pantheistic speculations, ultimately to take

their stand on materialism, could Epicurus avoid doing the same? In

seeking a speculative basis for a view of life which refers everything

to the feeling of pleasure or pain, he appealed far more unreservedly

than they had done to sensation. Now, since the senses can alone inform

us what is pleasant or unpleasant, and what is desirable or the

contrary, our judgment as to truth or falsehood must ultimately depend

on the senses. Viewed speculatively, sensation is the standard of

truth; viewed practically, the feeling of pleasure or pain. [1126] If

the senses may not be trusted, still less may knowledge derived from

reason be trusted, since reason itself is primarily and entirely

derived from the senses. There remains, therefore, no distinctive mark

of truth, and no possibility of certain conviction. We are at the mercy

of unlimited doubt. If, however, this doubt is contradictory of

itself—for how can men declare they know, that they can know

nothing?—it is also contradictory of human nature, since it would do

away not only with all knowledge but with every possibility of

action—in short, with all the conditions on which human life depends.

[1127] To avoid doubt we must allow that sensation as such is always,

and under all circumstances, to be trusted; nor ought the delusions of

the senses to shake our belief; the causes of these deceptions do not

lie in sensation as such, but in our judgment about sensation. What the

senses supply is only that an object produces this or that effect upon

us, and that this or that picture has impressed our soul. The facts

thus supplied are always true, only it does not follow that the object

exactly corresponds with the impression we receive of it, or that it

produces on others the same impression that it produces on us. Many

different pictures may emanate from one and the same object, and these

pictures may be changed on their way to the ear or eye. Pictures, too,

may strike our senses with which no real objects correspond. To

confound the picture with the thing, the impression made with the

object making the impression, is certainly an error, but this error

must not be laid to the charge of the senses, but to that of opinion.

[1128] Indeed, how is it possible, asks Epicurus, [1129] to refute the

testimony of the senses? Can reason refute it? But reason is itself

dependent on the senses, and cannot bear testimony against that on

which its own claims to belief depend. Or can one sense convict another

of error? But different sensations do not refer to the same object, and

similar sensations have equal value. Nothing remains, therefore, but to

attach implicit belief to every impression of the senses. Every such

impression is directly certain, and is accordingly termed by Epicurus

clear evidence (ἐνάργεια). [1130] Nay, more, its truth is so paramount

that the impressions of madmen, and appearances in dreams, are true

because they are caused by something real, [1131] and error only

becomes possible when we go beyond sensation.

[(2) Notions.]

This going beyond sensation becomes, however, a necessity. By a

repetition of the same perception a notion (πρόληψις) arises. A notion,

therefore, is nothing else than the general picture retained in the

mind of what has been perceived. [1132] On these notions retained by

memory depend all speaking and thinking. They are what commonly go

under the name of things; and speech is only a means of recalling

definite perceptions [1133] to the memory. Notions are presupposed in

all scientific knowledge. [1134] Together with sensations they form the

measure of the truth of our convictions; [1135] and it holds true of

them as it did of sensations—that they are true in themselves and need

no proof. [1136] Taken by themselves, notions, like perceptions, are

reflections in the soul of things on which the transforming action of

the mind, changing external impressions into conceptions, has not as

yet been brought to bear.

[(3) Opinion.]

For this very reason notion are not sufficient. From appearances we

must advance to their secret causes; from the known to the unknown.

[1137] Far too little value was attached by Epicurus to the logical

forms of thought, or he would have investigated more accurately the

nature of this process of advancing. [1138] Thoughts, in his view,

result from sensations spontaneously, and although a certain amount of

reflection is necessary for the process, yet it requires no scientific

guidance. [1139] The thoughts arrived at in this way do not stand as a

higher genus above perceptions, but they are only opinions (ὑπόληψις,

δόξα) without a note of truth in themselves, and depending for their

truth upon sensation. That opinion may be considered a true one which

is based on the testimony of the senses, or is at least not contrary to

the senses, and that a false opinion in which the opposite is the case.

[1140] Sometimes we suppose that upon certain present impressions other

impressions will follow: for instance, that a tower which appears round

at a distance will appear round close at hand. In that case, if the

real perception corresponds with the assumption, the opinion is true,

otherwise it is false. [1141] At other times we suppose that certain

appearances are due to secret causes: for instance, that empty space is

the cause of motion. If all appearances tally with their explanations,

we may consider our assumptions correct; if not, our assumptions are

incorrect. [1142] In the first case the test of the truth of an opinion

is that it is supported by experience; in the latter that it is not

refuted by experience. [1143] Have we not here all the leading features

of a theory of knowledge based purely on sensation? The Epicurean’s

interest in these questions was, however, far too slight to construct

with them a developed theory of materialism.

[(4) Standard of truth subjective.]

Little pains seem to have been taken by Epicurus to overcome the

difficulties by which this view was beset. If all sensations as such

are true, the saying of Protagoras necessarily follows that for each

individual that is true which seems to him to be true, that contrary

impressions about one and the same object are true, and that deceptions

of the senses, so many instances of which are supplied by experience,

are really impossible. To avoid these conclusions, Epicurus maintained

that for each different impression there is a different object-picture.

What immediately affects our senses is not the object itself, but a

picture of the object, and these pictures may be innumerable, a

different one being the cause of each separate sensation. Moreover,

although the pictures emanating from the same object are in general

nearly alike, it is possible that they may differ from one another

owing to a variety of causes. If, therefore, the same object appears

different to different individuals, the cause of these different

sensations is not one and the same, but a different one, and different

pictures must have affected their senses. If our own sensations deceive

us, the blame does not belong to our senses, as though they had

depicted to us unreal objects, but to our judgment for drawing

unwarranted inferences from pictures [1144] as to their causes.

This line of argument, however, only removes the difficulty one step

further. Sensation is said always to reproduce faithfully the picture

which affects the organs of sense, but the pictures do not always

reproduce the object with equal faithfulness. How then can a faithful

picture be known from one which is not faithful? To this question the

Epicurean system can furnish no real answer. To say that the wise man

knows how to distinguish a faithful from an unfaithful picture [1145]

is to despair of an absolute standard at all, and to make the decision

of truth or error depend upon the individual’s judgment. Such a

statement reduces all our impressions of the properties of things to a

relative level. If sensation does not show us things themselves, but

only those impressions of them which happen to affect us, it does not

supply us with a knowledge of things as they are, but as they happen to

be related to us. It was, therefore, a legitimate inference from this

theory of knowledge for Epicurus to deny that colour belongs to bodies

in themselves, since some only see colour in the dark, whilst others do

not. [1146] Like his predecessor, Democritus, he must have been brought

to this view by his theory of atoms. Few of the properties belong to

atoms which we perceive in things, and hence all other properties must

be explained as not belonging to the essence, but only to the

appearance of things. [1147] The taste for speculation was, however,

too weak, and the need of a direct truth of the senses too strong in

Epicurus for him to be able to turn his thoughts in this direction for

long. Whilst allowing to certain properties of things only a relative

value, he had no wish to doubt the reality of objects, nor to disparage

the object-pictures which furnish us with sensations. [1148]

CHAPTER XVII.

THE EPICUREAN VIEWS ON NATURE.

[A. General views on nature.]

[(1) Object, value, and method of the study of nature.]

If Epicurus and his followers underrated logic, to natural science they

attached a considerable value. This value was, however, exclusively

derived from a sense of the practical advantages which a knowledge of

nature confers in opposing superstition. Without such an object the

study of nature would have seemed wholly superfluous. [1149] Such being

their attitude of mind, the Epicureans were, as might have been

expected, indifferent about giving a complete and accurate explanation

of phenomena. Their one aim was to put forward such a view of nature as

would do away with the necessity for supernatural intervention, without

at the same time pretending to offer a sufficient solution of the

problems raised by science. [1150] Whilst, therefore, he devoted

considerable attention to natural science, [1151] Epicurus does not

seem to have considered certainty to be of importance, or even to be

possible, in dealing with details of scientific study. Of the general

causes of things we can and ought to entertain a firm conviction, since

the possibility of overcoming religious prejudices and the fears

occasioned by them depends on these convictions. No such result,

however, follows from the investigation of details, which, on the

contrary, only tends to confirm prejudices in those who are not already

emancipated from them. In dealing with details, therefore, it is enough

for Epicurus to show that various natural causes for phenomena may be

imagined, and to offer various suggestions which dispense with the

intervention of the Gods and the myths of a belief in Providence.

[1152] To say that any one of these suggestions is the only possible

one, is in most cases to exceed the bounds of experience and human

knowledge, and to go back to the capricious explanations of mythology.

[1153] Possibly the world may move, and possibly it may be at rest.

Possibly it may be round, or else it may be triangular, or have any

other shape. Possibly the sun and the stars may be extinguished at

setting, and be lighted afresh at rising. It is, however, equally

possible that they may only disappear under the earth and reappear

again, or that their rising and setting may be due to yet other causes.

Possibly the waxing and waning of the moon may be caused by the moon’s

revolving; or it may be due to an atmospheric change, or to an actual

increase and decrease in the moon’s size, or to some other cause.

Possibly the moon may shine with borrowed light, or it may shine with

its own, experience supplying us with instances of bodies which give

their own light, and of those which have their light borrowed. [1154]

From these and such-like statements it appears that questions of

natural science in themselves have no value for Epicurus. Whilst

granting that only one natural explanation of phenomena is generally

possible, yet in any particular case he is perfectly indifferent which

explanation is adopted.

[(2) Mechanical explanation of nature.]

Great stress is, however, laid by him on the general explanation. In

contrast with the religious view which regards the world as a system of

means leading to ends, the leading business of the natural science of

the Epicureans is to refer all phenomena to natural causes. To an

Epicurean nothing appeals more absurd than to suppose that the

arrangements of nature have for their object the well-being of mankind,

or that they have any object at all. The tongue is not given us for the

purpose of speaking, nor the ears for the purpose of hearing. As a

matter of fact, it would, indeed, be more correct to say, that we speak

because we have a tongue, and hear because we have ears. Natural powers

have acted purely according to the law of necessity, and among their

various products there could not fail to be some presenting the

appearance of purpose in their arrangement. In the case of man there

have resulted many such products and powers. But this result is by no

means intentional; it is an accidental consequence of natural causes.

In explaining nature all thought of Gods must be put out of sight. For

their happiness would be inconceivable, on the supposition that they

cared for man and his welfare. [1155]

Confining his interest in nature, as Epicurus did, entirely to this

general view of things, he was all the more inclined, in carrying it

into details, to rely upon some older system. No system, however,

appeared to correspond better with his tone of mind than that of

Democritus, which, moreover, commended itself to him not only by

absolutely banishing the idea of final cause, but by referring

everything to matter, and by its theory of atoms. As Epicurus places in

each individual thing taken by itself the ultimate end of action, so

Democritus had theoretically made all that is real to consist in what

is absolutely individual or in atoms. His natural science, therefore,

seemed to present the most natural basis for the Epicurean Ethics. If

the Stoics, in their views of nature, closely followed Heraclitus,

Epicurus in his followed Democritus still more closely, and hence, with

the exception of one single point, the additions made by Epicurus to

the theory of this philosopher are of no philosophical importance.

[(3) Atoms and empty space.]

With Democritus Epicurus agreed in holding that there is no other form

of reality except that of bodily reality. Every substance, he says in

the words of the Stoics, must affect others, and be affected by them;

and whatever affects others or is itself affected, is corporeal.

Corporeal substance is, therefore, the only kind of substance. [1156]

The various qualities of things, essential as well as accidental

qualities, are accordingly not incorporeal existences, but simply

chance modes of body, the former being called by Epicurus συμβεβηκότα,

the latter συμπτώματα. [1157] But a second something is necessary

besides corporeal substance in order to explain phenomena, viz. empty

space. That empty space exists is proved by the differences of weight

in bodies. For what else could be the cause of this difference? [1158]

It is proved still more conclusively by motion, motion being impossible

without empty space. [1159] Mind as a moving cause, however, seems to

Epicurus altogether superfluous. Everything that exists consists of

bodies and empty space, and there is no third thing. [1160]

Democritus had resolved the two conceptions of body and empty space

into the conceptions of being and not being. True to his position,

Epicurus dispensed with this speculative basis, and clinging to the

ordinary notions of empty space, and of a material filling space,

[1161] he simply proves these notions by the qualities of phenomena.

For this very reason Democritus’s division of body into innumerable

primary particles or atoms appeared to him most necessary. All bodies

known to us by sensation are composed of parts. [1162] If the process

of division were infinitely continued, all things would ultimately be

resolved into the non-existent—in this Epicurus and Democritus

agree;—and conversely all things must have been formed out of the

non-existent, in defiance of the first principle of natural science

that nothing can come from nothing, and that nothing can be resolved

into nothing. [1163] Hence, we must conclude that the primary component

parts of things can neither have come into existence nor cease to

exist, nor yet be changed in their nature. [1164] These primary bodies

contain no empty space in themselves, and hence can neither be divided

nor destroyed, nor be changed in any way. [1165] They are so small that

they do not impress the senses, and as a matter of fact we do not see

them. Nevertheless they must not be regarded as mathematical atoms, the

name atoms being assigned to them only because their bodily structure

will not admit of division. [1166] They have neither colour, warmth,

smell, nor any other property; properties belong only to distinct

materials; [1167] and for this reason they must not be sought in the

four elements, all of which, as experience shows, come into being and

pass away. [1168] They possess only the universal qualities of all

corporeal things, viz. shape, size, and weight. [1169]

Not only must atoms, like all other bodies, have shape, but there must

exist among them indefinitely many varieties of shape, or it would be

impossible to account for the innumerable differences of things. There

cannot, however, be really an infinite number of shapes, as Democritus

maintained, in any limited body—this is intelligible of itself—nor yet

in the whole universe, [1170] since an unlimited number would make the

arrangement of the world impossible, everything in the world being

circumscribed by certain containing limits. [1171] Again, atoms must be

different in point of size; for all materials cannot be divided into

particles of equal size. Yet even to this difference there must be some

limitation. An atom must neither be so large as to become an object of

sense, nor can it, after what has been said, be infinitely small.

[1172] From difference in point of size the difference of atoms in

point of weight follows. [1173] In point of number atoms must be

innumerable, and in the same way empty space must be unbounded also.

For since everything bounded must be bounded by something, it is

impossible to imagine any bounds of the universe beyond which nothing

exists, and hence there can be no bounds at all. The absence of bounds

must, apply to the mass of atoms quite as much as to empty space. If an

infinite number of atoms would not find room in a limited space,

conversely a limited number of atoms would be lost in empty space, and

never able to form a world. [1174] In all these views Epicurus closely

follows Democritus, no doubt agreeing with him also in explaining the

qualities of things by the composition of their atoms. [1175]

[B. The world.]

[(1) The swerving aside of atoms.]

In deducing the origin of things from their primary causes, Epicurus,

however, deviates widely from his predecessor. Atoms—so it was taught

by both—have by virtue of their weight been eternally engaged in a

downward motion. [1176] That all bodies should move downwards in empty

space seemed to Epicurus a matter of course; for whatever is heavy must

fall unless it is supported. [1177] He was therefore opposed to the

Aristotelian view that heaviness shows itself in the form of attraction

towards a centre, and consequently to his further supposition that

downward mode of motion belongs only to certain bodies, circular motion

being for others more natural. [1178] The objection that in endless

space there is no above or below he could meet only by appealing to

experience; [1179] some things always appear above our heads, others

beneath our feet. [1180] But whilst Democritus held that atoms in their

downward motion meet together, thus giving rise to a rotatory motion,

no such view commended itself to Epicurus. Nay rather in his view all

atoms will fall equally fast, since empty space offers no resistance,

and falling perpendicularly it is impossible to see how they can meet.

[1181] To render a meeting possible he supposes the smallest possible

swerving aside from the perpendicular line in falling. This assumption

seemed to him indispensable, since it would be otherwise impossible to

assert the freedom of the human will. For how can the will be free if

everything falls according to the strict law of gravity? For the same

reason this swerving aside was not supposed to proceed from any natural

necessity, but simply from the power of self-motion in the atoms.

[1182] In consequence of their meeting one part of the atoms

rebounds—so Democritus also taught; the lighter ones are forced

upwards, and from the upward and downward motions combined a rotatory

motion arises. [1183] When this motion takes place a clustering of

atoms is the consequence, which by their own motion separate themselves

from the remaining mass, and form a world of themselves. [1184] Atoms

being eternal and unchangeable, the process of forming worlds must go

on without beginning or end; [1185] and inasmuch as they are also

infinite in number, and empty space is infinite also, there must be an

innumerable number of worlds. [1186] In the character of these worlds

the greatest possible variety may be supposed, since it is most

unlikely that the innumerable combinations of atoms all brought about

at random will fall out alike. Equally impossible is it to assert that

all these worlds are absolutely dissimilar. In general, Epicurus

assumed that they are extremely different both in point of size and

arrangement, and that here and there one may be similar to our own.

[1187] Moreover, since eternity affords time for all imaginable

combinations of atoms, nothing can ever be brought about now which has

not already existed. [1188] In one respect all worlds are alike; they

come into existence, are liable to decay, and, like all other

individual elements, are exposed to a gradual increase and decrease.

[1189] So we might have assumed from other positions in his system.

Between the individual worlds both Democritus and Epicurus insert

intermediate world-spaces, in which by the clustering of atoms from

time to time new worlds come into being. [1190]

[(2) Origin of the world.]

The origin of our world is thus described. At a certain period of

time—Lucretius [1191] believes at no very distant period—a cluster of

atoms of varying shape and size was formed in this definite portion of

space. These atoms meeting, there first arose from the pressure and

rebound of the quickly falling particles motions of every variety in

every direction. Soon the greater atoms pressing downwards, by dint of

weight forced upwards the smaller and lighter atoms, the fiery ones

topmost and with the greatest impetus to form the ether, and afterwards

those which form the air. [1192] The upper pressure ceasing, these

masses, under the pressure of particles still joining it from below,

spread forth sidewards, and thus the belts of fire and air were formed.

Next uprose those atoms out of which the sun and stars are formed into

the heights, and at the same time the earth settled down, its inner

part being partially exhausted in those places where the sea now is. By

the influence of the warmth of the ether, and the sun-heat, the

earth-mass was bound together more closely, the sea was pressed out of

it, and the surface assumed an uneven character. [1193] The world is

shut off from other worlds and from empty space by those bodies which

form its external boundary. [1194]

[(3) Arrangement of the universe.]

Asking, in the next place, what idea must be formed of the arrangement

of the world, we are met by the two principles which Epicurus is never

weary of inculcating; one, that we must explain nothing as an

intentional arrangement by deity, but refer everything simply and

solely to mechanical causes; the other, that in explaining phenomena

the widest possible room must be given for hypotheses of every kind,

and that nothing is more absurd than to abridge the wide range of

possible explanations by exclusively deciding in favour of any one.

[1195] Thereby the investigation of nature loses for him its value as

such, nor is it of any great interest to us to follow his speculations

on nature into detail. On one point he dogmatises, protesting that the

framework of heaven must not be considered the work of God, [1196] nor

must life and reason be attributed to the stars. [1197] Otherwise, on

nearly all the questions which engaged the attention of astronomers at

that time, he observes the greatest indifference, treating the views of

his predecessors, good and bad alike, with an easy superficiality which

can only be explained by supposing him altogether indifferent [1198] as

to their truth. The state of his own astronomical knowledge can,

moreover, be easily seen by recalling the notorious assertion [1199]

that the sun, the moon, and the stars are either not at all, or only a

little larger, and may possibly be even less than they appear to be.

The Epicureans also thought to support their theory that the earth,

borne by the air, reposes in the middle of the world—a theory which on

their hypothesis of the weight of bodies is impossible [1200]—by the

gradual diminution in weight of the surrounding bodies. [1201] It would

be impossible here to go through the treatment which they gave to

atmospheric and terrestrial phenomena, particularly as the principle

already indicated was most freely used, and many explanations were

given as being all equally possible. [1202]

[(4) Plants and animals.]

Out of the newly made earth plants at first grew, [1203] and afterwards

animals came forth, since the latter, according to Lucretius, can by no

possibility have fallen from heaven. [1204] In other worlds, likewise,

living beings came into existence, though not necessarily in all.

[1205] Among these beings were originally, as Empedocles had previously

supposed, [1206] all sorts of composite or deformed creatures. Those,

however, alone continued to exist which were fitted by nature to find

support, to propagate, and to protect themselves from danger. Romantic

creatures, such as centaurs of chimæras, can never have existed here,

because the beings of which they are compounded would require

conditions of life [1207] altogether different.

[C. Mankind.]

[(1) Origin of the human race.]

Aiming, as the Epicureans did, at explaining the origin of men and

animals in a purely natural manner, they likewise tried to form an

idea, equally according to nature, of the original state and historical

development of the human race. In this attempt they ignored all

legendary notions, and, notwithstanding their leaning towards

materialism, they on the whole advocated perfectly sound views. The men

of early times, so thought Lucretius, were stronger and more powerful

than the men of to-day. Rude and ignorant as beasts, they lived in the

woods in a perpetual state of warfare with the wild animals, without

justice or society. [1208] The first and most important step in a

social direction was the discovery of fire, the learning to build huts,

and to clothe themselves in skins; then began marriage and domestic

life, [1209] and speech, originally not a matter of convention, but,

like the noises of animals, the natural expression of thoughts and

feelings, was developed. [1210] The older the human race grew, the more

they learned of the arts and skill which minister to the preservation

and enjoyment of life. These arts were first learnt by experience,

under the pressure of nature, or the compulsion of want. What had thus

been discovered was completed by reflection, the more gifted preceding

the rest as teachers. [1211] In exactly the same way civil society was

developed. Individuals built strongholds, and made themselves rulers.

In time the power of kings aroused envy, and they were massacred. To

crush the anarchy which then arose, magistrates were chosen, and order

established by penal laws. [1212] It will subsequently be seen that

Epicurus explained religion in the same way by natural growth.

[(2) The soul.]

The apotheosis of nature, which has been apparent in Epicurus’s whole

view of history, becomes specially prominent in his treatment of

psychology. This treatment could, after all that has been said, be only

purely materialistic. The soul, like every other real being, is a body.

In support of this view the Epicureans appealed to the mutual relations

of the body and the soul, agreeing on this point with the Stoics.

[1213] The body of the soul, however, consists of the finest, lightest,

and most easily moved atoms, as is manifest from the speed of thought,

from the instantaneous dissolution of the soul after death, and,

moreover, from the fact that the soulless body is as heavy as the body

in which there is a soul. [1214] Hence Epicurus, again agreeing with

the Stoics, describes the soul as a material resembling fire and air,

[1215] or, more accurately, as composed of four elements, fire, air,

vapour, and a fourth nameless element. It consists of the finest atoms,

and is the cause of feeling, [1216] and according as one or other of

these elements preponderates, the character of man is of one or the

other kind. [1217] Like the Stoics, Epicurus believed that the

soul-element is received by generation from the parents’ souls, [1218]

and that it is spread over the whole body, [1219] growing as the body

grows. [1220] At the same time he makes a distinction somewhat similar

to that made by the Stoics in their doctrine of the sovereign part of

the soul (ἡγεμονικόν). [1221] Only the irrational part of the soul is

diffused as a principle of life over the whole body; the rational part

has its seat in the breast. [1222] To the rational part belong mental

activity, sensation, and perception, the motion of the will and the

mind, and in this latter sense life itself; both parts together make up

one being, yet they may exist in different conditions. The mind may be

cheerful whilst the body and the irrational soul feel pain, or the

reverse may be the case. It is even possible that portions of the

irrational soul may be lost by the mutilation of the body, without

detriment to the rational soul, or consequently to life. [1223] When,

however, the connection between soul and body is fully severed, then

the soul can no longer exist. Deprived of the surrounding shelter of

the body, its atoms are dispersed in a moment, owing to their

lightness; and the body in consequence, being unable to exist without

the soul, goes over into corruption. [1224] If this view appears to

hold out the most gloomy prospect for the future, Epicurus considers

that it cannot really be so. With life every feeling of evil ceases,

[1225] and the time when we shall no longer exist affects us just as

little as the time before we existed. [1226] Nay, more, he entertains

the opinion that his teaching alone can reconcile us to death by

removing all fear of the nether world and its terrors. [1227]

Allowing that many of these statements are natural consequences of the

principles of Epicurus, the distinction between a rational and an

irrational soul must, nevertheless, at first sight seem strange in a

system so thoroughly materialistic as was that of the Epicureans. And

yet this distinction is not stranger than the corresponding parts of

the Stoic teaching. If the Stoic views may be referred to the

distinction which they drew in morals between the senses and the

reason, not less are the Epicurean ethics marked by the same contrast

between the general and the sensuous side of the mind. Hence Epicurus

shares the Stoic belief in an ethereal origin of the human race; [1228]

and although this belief as at first expressed only implies that man,

like other living beings, is composed of ethereal elements, yet there

is connected with it the distinction already discussed in the case of

the Stoics between the higher and the lower parts of man, which

ultimately comes to be simply another mode of expressing the difference

between mind and matter.

[(3) Sensation.]

Among the phenomena of the soul’s life sensation is made to harmonise

with the general principles of the Epicurean view of nature by the aid

of Democritus’s doctrine of atom-pictures (εἴδωλα). From the surface of

bodies—this is the pith of that doctrine—the finest possible particles

are constantly being thrown off, which by virtue of their fineness

traverse the furthest spaces in an infinitely short time, hurrying

through the void. [1229] Many of these exhalations are arrested by some

obstacle soon after coming forth, or are otherwise thrown into

confusion. In the case of others the atoms for a long time retain the

same position and connection which they had in bodies themselves, thus

presenting a picture of things, and only lacking corporeal solidity. As

these pictures are conveyed to the soul by the various organs of sense,

our impressions of things arise. [1230] Even those impressions, which

have no corresponding real object, must be referred to such pictures

present in the soul. [1231] For often pictures last longer than things

themselves; [1232] and often by a casual combination of atoms pictures

are formed in the air resembling no one single thing. Sometimes, too,

pictures of various kinds are combined on their way to the senses;

thus, for instance, the notion of a Centaur is caused by the union of

the picture of a man with that of a horse, not only in our imagination,

but already previously in the atom-picture. [1233] If, therefore,

sensation distorts or imperfectly represents real objects, it must be

explained as being due to some change or mutilation in the

atom-pictures before they reach our senses. [1234]

In thus explaining mental impressions, the Epicureans do not allow

themselves to be disturbed by the fact that we can recall at pleasure

the ideas of all possible things. The cause of this power was rather

supposed to be the circumstance that we are always surrounded by an

innumerable number of atom-pictures, none of which we perceive unless

our attention is directed to them. Likewise the seeming motion of forms

which we behold in dreams is explained by the hasty succession of

similar atom-pictures, appearing to us as changes of one and the same

picture. [1235] But besides receiving pictures supplied from without,

spontaneous motion with regard to these pictures takes place on our

part, a motion connected in the first instance with the soul’s motion

when it receives the outward impression, but not to be regarded as a

simple continuation thereof. This independent motion gives rise to

opinion, and hence opinion is not so necessary or so universally true

as feeling. It may agree with feeling, or it may not agree with it. It

may be true or it may be false. [1236] The conditions of its being true

or false have been previously investigated. [1237]

[(4) Will.]

Impressions also give rise to will and action, the soul being set in

motion by impressions, and this motion extending from the soul to the

body. [1238] Into the nature of will, however, Epicurus does not appear

to have instituted a more careful psychological investigation. It was

enough for him to assert the freedom of the will. This freedom he

considers absolutely indispensable, if anything we do is to be

considered our own, unless we are prepared to despair of moral

responsibility altogether, and to resign ourselves to a comfortless and

inexorable necessity. [1239] To make freedom possible, Epicurus had

introduced accident into the motion of atoms, and for the same reason

he denies the truth of disjunctive propositions which apply to the

future. [1240] In the latter respect, he, no doubt, only attacked the

material truth of two clauses, without impugning the formal accuracy of

the disjunction, [1241] i.e. he did not deny that of two contradictory

cases either one or the other must happen, nor did he deny the truth of

saying: To-morrow Epicurus will either be alive or not alive. But he

disputed the truth of each clause taken by itself. He denied the truth

of the sentence, Epicurus will be alive; and equally that of its

contradictory, Epicurus will not be alive; on the ground that the one

or the other statement only becomes true by the actual realisation of

an event at present uncertain. [1242] For this he deserves little

blame. Our real charge against him is that he did not more thoroughly

investigate the nature of the will and the conception of freedom, and

that he treats the subject of the soul as scantily and superficially as

he had treated the subject of nature.

CHAPTER XVIII.

VIEWS OF EPICURUS ON RELIGION.

[A. Criticism of the gods and the popular faith.]

Satisfied with the results of his own enquiries into nature, Epicurus

hoped by his view of the causes of things not only to displace the

superstitions of a polytheistic worship, but also to uproot the

prejudice in favour of Providence. Indeed, these two objects were

placed by him on exactly the same footing. So absurd did he consider

the popular notions respecting the Gods, that instead of blaming those

who attacked them, [1243] he believed it impious to acquiesce in them.

Religion being, according to Lucretius, the cause of the greatest

evils, [1244] he who displaces it to make way for rational views of

nature deserves praise as having overcome the most dangerous enemy of

mankind. All the language of Epicurus in disparagement of the art of

poetry applies in a still higher degree to the religious errors

fostered by poetry. [1245] Nor is it better with belief in Providence

than with the popular faith. This belief is also included in the

category of romance; [1246] and the doctrine of fatalism, which was the

Stoic form for the same belief, was denounced as even worse than the

popular faith. [1247] For how, asks the Epicurean, could divine

Providence have created a world in which evil abounds, in which virtue

often fares ill, whilst vice is triumphant? How could a world have been

made for the sake of man, when man can only inhabit a very small

portion of it? How could nature be intended to promote man’s well-being

when it so often imperils his life and labour, and sends him into the

world more helpless than any animal? How can we form a conception of

beings ruling over an infinite universe, and everywhere present to

administer everything in every place? [1248] What could have induced

these beings to create a world, and how and whence could they have

known how to create it, had not nature supplied them with an example?

[1249] In fine, how could God be the happy Being He must be if the

whole burden of caring for all things and all events lay upon Him, or

He were swayed to and fro together with the body of the world? [1250]

Or how could we feel any other feeling than that of fear in the

presence of such a God who troubles himself about everything? [1251]

[B. The gods according to Epicurus.]

[(1) Reasons for his belief.]

With the denial of the popular Gods, the denial of demons, [1252] of

course, goes hand in hand; and, together with Providence, the need of

prayer [1253] and of prophecy is at the same time negatived. [1254] All

these notions, according to Epicurus, are the result of ignorance and

fear. Pictures seen in dreams have been confounded with real

existences; regularity of motion in the heavenly bodies has been

mistaken by the ignorant for the work of God; events which accidentally

happened in combination with others have been regarded as portents;

terrific natural phenomena, storms and earthquakes, have engendered in

men’s minds the fear of higher powers. [1255] Fear is therefore the

basis of religion; [1256] and, on the other hand, freedom from fear is

the primary object aimed at by philosophy.

For all that, Epicurus was unwilling to renounce belief in the Gods,

[1257] nor is it credible that this unwillingness was simply a yielding

to popular opinion. [1258] The language used by the Epicureans

certainly gives the impression of sincerity; and the time was past when

avowed atheism was attended with danger. Atheism would have been as

readily condoned in the time of Epicurus as the deism which denied most

unreservedly the popular faith. It is, however, possible to trace the

causes which led Epicurus to believe that there are Gods. There was

first the general diffusion of a belief in Gods which appeared to him

to establish the truth of this belief, and hence he declared the

existence of Gods to be something directly certain, and grounded on a

primary notion (πρόληψις). [1259] Moreover, with his materialistic

theory of knowledge he no doubt supposed that the primary notion which

convinces us of the existence of Gods arises from the actual

contemplation of divine beings, and from the perception of those

atom-pictures from which Democritus had already deduced the belief in

Gods. [1260] And in addition to these theoretical reasons, Epicurus had

also another, half æsthetical, half religious—the wish to see his ideal

of happiness realised in the person of the Gods, [1261] and it is this

ideal which determines the character of all his notions respecting

them. His Gods are therefore, throughout, human beings. Religious

belief only knows beings such as these, or, as Epicurus expresses it,

only such beings come before us in those pictures of the Gods which

present themselves to our minds, sometimes in sleep, sometimes when we

are awake. Reflection, too, convinces us that the human form is the

most beautiful, that to it alone reason belongs, and that it is the

most appropriate form for perfectly happy beings. [1262] Epicurus even

went so far as to attribute to the Gods difference of sex. [1263] At

the same time everything must be eliminated which is not appropriate to

a divine being.

[(2) Nature of the Epicurean gods.]

The two essential characteristics of the Gods, according to Epicurus,

are immortality and perfect happiness. [1264] Both of these

characteristics would be impaired were we to attribute to the bodies of

the Gods the same dense corporeity which belongs to our own. We must,

therefore, only assign to them a body analogous to our body, ethereal,

and consisting of the finest atoms. [1265] Such bodies would be of

little use in a world like ours. In fact, they could not live in any

world without being exposed to the temporal ruin which will in time

overwhelm it, and, meantime, to a state of fear, which would mar their

bliss. Epicurus, therefore, assigns the space between the worlds for

their habitation, where, as Lucretius remarks, troubled by no storms,

they live under a sky ever serene. [1266]

Nor can these Gods be supposed to care for the world and the affairs of

men, else their happiness would be marred by the most distressing

occupation; but perfectly free from care and trouble, and absolutely

regardless of the world, in eternal contemplation of their unchanging

perfection, they enjoy the most unalloyed happiness. [1267] The view

which the School formed to itself of this happiness we learn from

Philodemus. [1268] The Gods are exempt from sleep, sleep being a

partial death, and not needed by beings who live without any exertion.

And yet he believes that they require nourishment, though this must, of

course, be of a kind suited to their nature. They also need dwellings,

[1269] since every being requires some place wherein to dwell. Were

powers of speech to be refused to them, they would be deprived of the

highest means of enjoyment—the power of conversing with their equals.

Philodemus thinks it probable they use the Greek or some other closely

allied language. [1270] In short, he imagines the Gods to be a society

of Epicurean philosophers, who have everything that they can

desire—everlasting life, no care, and perpetual opportunities of sweet

converse. Only such Gods,—the Epicureans thought, [1271]—need not be

feared. Only such Gods are free and pure, and worshipped because of

this very perfection. [1272] Moreover, these Gods are innumerable. If

the number of mortal beings is infinite, the law of counterpoise

requires that the number of immortal beings must not be less. [1273] If

we have only the idea of a limited number of Gods, it is because, owing

to their being so much alike, [1274] we confound in our minds the

innumerable pictures of the Gods which are conveyed to our souls.

Priding themselves, in contrast to the Stoics, on their agreement by

means of this theology with the anthropomorphic views of the popular

belief, and even outdoing polytheism in the assumption of innumerable

Gods, [1275] the Epicureans were willing to join in the customary

services of religion, [1276] without being nearly so anxious as the

Stoics to prove themselves in harmony with the popular creed. Whilst

the Stoics in their anxiety to do this had plunged head over heels into

allegory, no such tendency is observed on the part of the Epicureans.

Only the poet of the School gives a few allegorical interpretations of

mythical ideas, and he does it with more taste and skill than is usual

with the Stoics. [1277] On other points the Epicureans, not excluding

Lucretius, observe towards the popular faith a negative attitude, that

of opposing it by explanations; and by this attitude, without doubt,

they rendered one of the most important services to humanity.

CHAPTER XIX.

THE MORAL SCIENCE OF THE EPICUREANS. GENERAL PRINCIPLES.

[A. Pleasure.]

[(1) Pleasure the highest good.]

Natural science is intended to overcome the prejudices which stand in

the way of happiness; moral science to give positive instruction as to

the nature and means of attaining to happiness. The speculative parts

of the Epicurean system had already worked out the idea that reality

belongs only to individual things, and that all general order must be

referred to the accidental harmony of individual forces. The same idea

is now met with in the sphere of morals, individual feeling being made

the standard, and individual well-being the object of all human

activity. Natural science, beginning with external phenomena, went back

to the secret principles of these phenomena, accessible only to

thought. It led from an apparently accidental movement of atoms to a

universe of regular motions. Not otherwise was the course followed by

Epicurus in moral science. Not content with human feelings alone, nor

with selfishly referring everything to the individual taken by himself

alone, that science, in more accurately defining the conception of

well-being, ascertained that the same can only be found by rising

superior to feelings and purely individual aims, in short by that very

process of referring consciousness to itself and its universal being,

which the Stoics declared to be the only path to happiness. It is for

us now to portray this development of the Epicurean philosophy in its

most prominent features.

The only unconditional good, according to Epicurus, is pleasure; the

only unconditional evil is pain. [1278] No proof of this proposition

seemed to him to be necessary; it rests on a conviction supplied by

nature herself, and is the ground and basis of all our doing and not

doing. [1279] If proof, however, were required, he appealed to the fact

that all living beings from the first moment of their existence pursue

pleasure and avoid pain, [1280] and that consequently pleasure is a

natural good, and the normal condition of every being. [1281] Hence

follows the proposition to which Epicurus in common with all the

philosophers of pleasure appealed, that pleasure must be the object of

life.

[(2) Freedom from pain.]

At the same time, this proposition was restricted in the Epicurean

system by several considerations. In the first place, neither pleasure

nor pain is a simple thing. There are many varieties and degrees of

pleasure and pain, and the case may occur in which pleasure has to be

secured by the loss of other pleasures, or even by pain, or in which

pain can only be avoided by submitting to another pain, or at the cost

of some pleasure. In this case Epicurus would have the various feelings

of pleasure and pain carefully weighed, and in consideration of the

advantages and disadvantages which they confer, would under

circumstances advise the good to be treated as an evil, and the evil as

a good. He would have pleasure forsworn if it would entail a greater

corresponding pain, and pain submitted to if it holds out the prospect

of greater pleasure. [1282] He also agrees with Plato in holding that

every positive pleasure presupposes a want, i.e. a pain which it

proposes to remove; and hence he concludes that the real aim and object

of all pleasure consists in obtaining freedom from pain, [1283] and

that the good is nothing else but emancipation from evil. [1284] By a

Cyrenaic neither repose of soul nor freedom from pain, but a gentle

motion of the soul or positive pleasure was proposed as the object of

life; and hence happiness was not made to depend on man’s general state

of mind, but on the sum-total of his actual enjoyments. But Epicurus,

advancing beyond this position, recognised both the positive and the

negative side of pleasures, both pleasure as repose, and pleasure as

motion. [1285] Both aspects of pleasure, however, do not stand on the

same footing in his system. On the contrary, the essential and

immediate cause of happiness is repose of mind—ἀταραξία. Positive

pleasure is only an indirect cause of ἀταραξία in that it removes the

pain of unsatisfied craving. [1286] This mental repose, however,

depends essentially on the character of a man’s mind, just as

conversely positive pleasure in systems so materialistic must depend on

sensuous attractions. It was consistent, therefore, on the part of

Aristippus to consider bodily gratification the highest pleasure; and

conversely Epicurus was no less consistent in subordinating it to

gratification of mind.

[B. Intellectual happiness.]

In calling pleasure the highest object in life, says Epicurus, we do

not mean the pleasures of profligacy, nor indeed sensual enjoyments at

all, but the freedom of the body from pain, and the freedom of the soul

from disturbance. Neither feasts nor banquets, neither the lawful nor

unlawful indulgence of the passions, nor the joys of the table, make

life happy, but a sober judgment, investigating the motives for action

and for inaction, and dispelling those greatest enemies of our peace,

prejudices. The root from which it springs,

[(1) Intelligence.]

and, therefore, the highest good, is intelligence. [1287] It is

intelligence that leaves us free to acquire possession thereof, without

being ever too early or too late. [1288] Our indispensable wants are

simple, little being necessary to ensure freedom from pain; other

things only afford change in enjoyment, by which the quantity is not

increased, or else they rest on a mere sentiment. [1289] The little we

need may be easily attained. Nature makes ample provision for our

happiness, would we only receive her gifts thankfully, not forgetting

what she gives in thinking what we desire. [1290] He who lives

according to nature is never poor; the wise man living on bread and

water has no reason to envy Zeus; [1291] chance has little hold on him;

with him judgment is everything, [1292] and if that be right, he need

trouble himself but little about external mishaps. [1293] Not even

bodily pain appeared to Epicurus so irresistible as to be able to cloud

the wise man’s happiness. Although he regards as unnatural the Stoic’s

insensibility to pain, [1294] still he is of opinion that the wise man

may be happy on the rack, and can smile at pains the most violent,

exclaiming in the midst of torture, How sweet! [1295] A touch of forced

sentiment may be discerned in the last expression, and a trace of

self-satisfied exaggeration is manifest even in the beautiful language

of the dying philosopher on the pains of disease. [1296] Nevertheless,

the principle involved is based in the spirit of the Epicurean

philosophy, and borne out by the testimony of the founder. The main

thing, according to Epicurus, is not the state of the body, but the

state of the mind; bodily pleasure being of short duration, and having

much about it to unsettle; mental enjoyments only being pure and

incorruptible. For the same reason mental sufferings are more severe

than those of the body, since the body only suffers from present ills,

whilst the soul feels those past and those to come. [1297] In a life of

limited duration the pleasures of the flesh never attain their

consummation. Mind only, by consoling us for the limited nature of our

bodily existence, can produce a life complete in itself, and not

standing in need of unlimited duration. [1298]

[(2) Reasons for rising superior to the senses.]

At the same time, the Epicureans, if consistent with their principles,

could not deny that bodily pleasure is the earlier form, and likewise

the ultimate source, of all pleasure, and neither Epicurus nor his

favourite pupil Metrodorus shrank from making this admission; Epicurus

declaring that he could form no conception of the good apart from

enjoyments [1299] of the senses; Metrodorus asserting that everything

good has reference to the belly. [1300] For all that the Epicureans did

not feel themselves driven to give up the pre-eminence which they

claimed for goods of the soul over those of the body. Did even the

Stoics, notwithstanding the grossness of their theory of knowledge,

ever abate their demand for a knowledge of conceptions; or cease to

subordinate the senses to reason, although they built their theory of

morals on nature? But all definite character has vanished from these

intellectual joys and pains. The only distinctive feature which they

possess is the addition either of memory, or of hope, or of fear [1301]

to the present feeling of pleasure or pain; and their greater

importance is simply ascribed to the greater force or duration

belonging to ideal feelings as compared with the attractions which

momentarily impress the senses. [1302] Incidentally the remembrance of

philosophic discourses is mentioned [1303] as a counterpoise to bodily

pain; properly speaking, mental pleasures and pains are not different

from other pleasures in kind, but only in degree, by reason of their

being stronger and more enduring. Accordingly Epicurus cannot escape

the admission that we have no cause for rejecting gross and carnal

enjoyments if these can liberate us from the fear of higher powers, of

death, and of sufferings; [1304] and thus the only consolation he can

offer in pain is the uncertain one that the most violent pains either

do not last long, or else put an end to life; and the less violent ones

ought to be endured since they do not exclude a counterbalancing

pleasure. [1305] Hence victory over the impression of the moment must

be won, not so much by mental force stemming the tide of feeling, as by

a proper estimate of the conditions and actions of the senses.

[(3) Virtue.]

In no other way can the necessity of virtue be established in the

Epicurean system. Agreeing with the strictest moralists, so far as to

hold that virtue can be as little separated from happiness as happiness

from virtue, [1306] having even the testimony of opponents as to the

purity and integrity of his moral teaching, which in its results

differed in no wise from that of the Stoics; [1307] Epicurus,

nevertheless, holds a position of strong contrast to the Stoics in

respect of the grounds on which his moral theory is based. To demand

virtue for its own sake seemed to him a mere phantom of the

imagination. Those only who make pleasure their aim have a real object

in life. [1308] Virtue has only a conditional value [1309] as a means

to happiness; or, as it is otherwise expressed, [1310] Virtue taken by

itself does not render a man happy, but the pleasure arising from the

exercise of virtue. This pleasure the Epicurean system does not seek in

the consciousness of duty fulfilled, or of virtuous action, but in the

freedom from disquiet, fear, and dangers, which follows as a

consequence from virtue. Wisdom and intelligence contribute to

happiness by liberating us from the fear of the Gods and of death, by

making us independent of immoderate passions and vain desires, by

teaching us to bear pain as something subordinate and passing, and by

pointing the way to a more cheerful and natural life. [1311]

Self-control aids, in that it points out the attitude to be assumed

towards pleasure and pain, so as to receive the maximum of enjoyment

and the minimum of suffering; [1312] valour, in that it enables us to

overcome fear and pain; [1313] justice, in that it makes life possible

without that fear of Gods and men, which ever haunts the transgressor.

[1314] To the Epicurean virtue is never an end in itself, but only a

means to an end lying beyond—a happy life—but withal a means so certain

and necessary, that virtue can neither be conceived without happiness,

nor happiness without virtue. However unnecessary it may seem, still

Epicurus would ever insist that an action to be right must be done not

according to the letter, but according to the spirit of the law, not

simply from regard to others, or by compulsion, but from delight in

what is good. [1315]

[C. The wise man.]

The same claims were advanced by Epicurus on behalf of his wise man as

the Stoics had urged on behalf of theirs. Not only does he attribute to

him a control over pain, in nothing inferior to the Stoic insensibility

of feeling, but he endeavours himself to describe the wise man’s life

as most perfect and satisfactory in itself. Albeit not free from

emotions, and in particular susceptible to the higher feelings of the

soul such as compassion, the wise man finds his philosophic activity in

no wise thereby impaired. [1316] Without despising enjoyment, he is

altogether master of his desires, and knows how to restrain them by

intelligence, so that they never exercise a harmful influence on life.

He alone has an unwavering certainty of conviction; [1317] he alone

knows how to do the right thing in the right way; he alone, as

Metrodorus observes, [1318] knows how to be thankful. Nay, more, he is

so far exalted above ordinary men, that Epicurus promises his pupils

that, by carefully observing his teaching, they will dwell as Gods

among men; [1319] so little can destiny influence him, that he calls

him happy under all circumstances. [1320] Happiness may, indeed, depend

on certain external conditions; it may even be allowed that the

disposition to happiness is not found in every nature, nor in every

person; [1321] but still, when it is found, its stability is sure, nor

can time affect its duration. For wisdom—so Epicurus and the Stoics

alike believed—is indestructible, [1322] and the wise man’s happiness

can never be increased by time. A life, therefore, bounded by time can

be quite as complete as one not so bounded. [1323]

Different as are the principles and the tone of the systems of the

Stoics and of Epicurus, one and the same tendency may yet be traced in

both—the tendency which characterises all the post-Aristotelian

philosophy—the desire to place man in a position of absolute

independence by emancipating him from connection with the external

world, and by awakening in him the consciousness of the infinite

freedom of thought. [1324]

CHAPTER XX.

THE EPICUREAN ETHICS CONTINUED: SPECIAL POINTS.

[A. The individual.]

The general principles already laid down determine likewise the

character of particular points in the moral science of the Epicureans.

Epicurus, it is true, never developed his moral views to a systematic

theory of moral actions and states, however much his pupils,

particularly in later times, busied themselves with morality and

special points in a system of morals. [1325] Moreover, his fragmentary

statements and precepts are very imperfectly recorded. Still, all that

is known corresponds with the notion which we must form in accordance

with those general views. All the practical rules given by Epicurus aim

at conducting man to happiness by controlling passions and desires. The

wise man is easily satisfied. He sees that little is necessary for

supplying the wants of nature, and for emancipating from pain; that

imaginary wealth knows no limit, whereas the riches required by nature

may be easily acquired; [1326] that the most simple nourishment affords

as much enjoyment as the most luxurious, and is at the same time far

more conducive to health; [1327] that therefore the restriction of

wants rather than the increase of possessions makes really rich; [1328]

and that he who is not satisfied with little will never be satisfied at

all. [1329] He therefore can like Epicurus live upon bread and water,

[1330] and at the same time think himself as happy as Zeus. [1331] He

eschews passions which disturb peace of mind and the repose of life;

considering it foolish to throw away the present in order to obtain an

uncertain future, or to sacrifice life itself for the means of life,

seeing he can only once enjoy it. [1332] He therefore neither gives way

to passionate love, nor to forbidden acts of profligacy. [1333] Fame he

does not covet; and for the opinions of men he cares only so far as to

wish not to be despised, since being despised would expose him to

danger. [1334] Injuries he can bear with calmness. [1335] He cares not

what may happen to him after death; [1336] nor envies any one the

possessions which he does not himself value. [1337]

It has been already seen how Epicurus thought to rise above pains, and

to emancipate himself from the fear of the Gods and death. [1338] And

it has been further noticed that he thinks to secure by means of his

principles the same independence and happiness which the Stoics aspired

to by means of theirs. But whilst the Stoics hoped to attain this

independence by crushing the senses, Epicurus was content to restrain

and regulate them. Desires he would not have uprooted, but he would

have them brought into proper proportion to the collective end and

condition of life, into the equilibrium necessary for perfect repose of

mind. Hence, notwithstanding his own simplicity, Epicurus is far from

disapproving, under all circumstances, of a fuller enjoyment of life.

The wise man will not live as a Cynic or a beggar. [1339] Care for

business he will not neglect; only he will not trouble himself too much

about it, and will prefer the business of education to any and every

other. [1340] Nor will he despise the attractions of art, although he

is satisfied when obliged to do without them. [1341] In short, his

self-sufficiency will not consist in using little, but in needing

little; and it is this freedom from wants which adds flavour to his

more luxurious enjoyments. [1342] His attitude to death is the same.

Not fearing death, rather seeking it when he has no other mode of

escaping unendurable suffering, he will resort to suicide if necessary,

but the cases will be rare, because he has learnt to be happy under all

bodily pains. The Stoic’s recommendation of suicide finds no favour

with him. [1343]

[B. Civil society and the family.]

[(1) Civil society.]

However self-sufficing the wise man may be, still Epicurus will not

separate him from connection with others. Not, indeed, that he believed

with the Stoics in the natural relationship of all rational beings.

[1344] Yet even he could form no idea of human life except in

connection with human society. He does not, however, assign the same

value to all forms of social life. Civil society and the state have for

him the least attraction. Civil society is only an external association

for the purpose of protection. Justice reposes originally on a contract

entered into for purposes of mutual security. [1345] Laws are made for

the sake of the wise, not to prevent their committing, but to prevent

their suffering injustice. [1346] Law and justice are not, therefore,

binding for their own sake, but for the general good; nor is injustice

to be condemned for its own sake, but only because the offender can

never be free from fear of discovery and punishment. [1347] There is

not, therefore, any such thing as universal, unchangeable justice. The

claims of justice only extend to a limited number of beings and

nations—those, in fact, which are able and willing to enter into the

social compact. And the particular applications of justice which

constitute positive right differ in different cases, and change with

circumstances. What is felt to be conducive to mutual security must

pass for justice, and whenever a law is seen to be inexpedient it is no

longer binding. [1348] The wise man will therefore only enter into

political life in case and in as far as this is necessary for his own

safety. Sovereign power is a good, inasmuch as it protects from harm.

He who pursues it, without thereby attaining this object, acts most

foolishly. [1349] Since private individuals live as a rule much more

quietly and safely than statesmen, it was natural that the Epicureans

should be averse to public affairs; public life, after all, is a

hindrance to what is the real end-in-chief—wisdom and happiness. [1350]

Their watchword is Λάθε βιώσας. [1351] To them the golden mean seemed

by far the most desirable lot in life. [1352] They only advise citizens

to take part in public affairs when special circumstances render it

necessary, [1353] or when an individual has such a restless nature that

he cannot be content with the quiet of private life. [1354] Otherwise

they are too deeply convinced of the impossibility of pleasing the

masses to wish even to make the attempt. [1355] For the same reason

they appear to have been partisans of monarchy. The stern and

unflinching moral teaching of the Stoics had found its political

expression in the unbending republican spirit, so often encountered at

Rome. Naturally the soft and timid spirit of the Epicureans took

shelter under a monarchical constitution. Of their political principles

one thing at least is known, that they did not consider it degrading

for a wise man to pay court to princes, and under all circumstances

they recommended unconditional obedience to the powers that be. [1356]

[(2) Family life.]

Family life is said to have been deprecated by Epicurus equally with

civil life. [1357] Stated thus baldly, this is an exaggeration. It

appears, however, to be established, that Epicurus believed it to be

generally better for the wise man to forego marriage and the rearing

of children, since he would thereby save himself many disturbances.

[1358] It is also quite credible that he declared the love of children

towards parents to be no inborn feeling. [1359] This view is, after

all, only a legitimate consequence of his materialism; but it did not

oblige him to give up parental love altogether. Nay, it is asserted of

him that he was anything but a stranger to family affections. [1360]

[C. Friendship.]

The highest form of social life was considered by Epicurus to be

friendship—a view which is peculiar in a system that regarded the

individual as the atom of society. Such a system naturally attributes

more value to a connection with others freely entered upon and based on

individual character and personal inclination, than to one in which a

man finds himself placed without any choice, as a member of a society

founded on nature or history. The basis, however, on which the

Epicurean friendship rests is very superficial; regard is mainly had to

its advantages, and in some degree to the natural effects of common

enjoyments; [1361] but it is also treated in such a way, that its

scientific imperfection has no influence on its moral importance. Only

one section of the School, and that not the most consistent, maintained

that friendship is pursued in the first instance for the sake of its

own use and pleasure, but that it subsequently becomes an unselfish

love. [1362] The assumption that among the wise there exists a tacit

agreement requiring them to love one another as much as they love

themselves, is clearly only a lame shift. [1363] Still, the Epicureans

were of opinion that a grounding of friendship on motives of utility

was not inconsistent with holding it in the highest esteem. Friendly

connection with others affords so pleasant a feeling of security, that

it entails the most enjoyable consequences; and since this connection

can only exist when friends love one another as themselves, it follows

that self-love and the love of a friend must be equally strong. [1364]

Even this inference sounds forced, nor does it fully state the grounds

on which Epicurus’s view of the value of friendship reposes. That view,

in fact, was anterior to all the necessary props of the system. What

Epicurus requires is primarily enjoyment. The first conditions of such

enjoyment, however, are inward repose of mind, and the removal of fear

of disturbances. But Epicurus was far too effeminate and dependent on

externals to trust his own powers to satisfy these conditions. He

needed the support of others, not only to obtain their help in

necessity and trouble, and to console himself for the uncertainty of

the future, but still more, to make sure of himself and his principles

by having the approval of others, and thus obtaining an inward

satisfaction which he could not otherwise have had. Thus, the approval

of friends is to him the pledge of the truth of his convictions. In

sympathy with friends his mind first attains to a strength by which it

is able to rise above the changing circumstances of life. General ideas

are for him too abstract, too unreal. A philosopher who considers

individual beings as alone real, and perceptions as absolutely true,

cannot feel quite happy and sure of his ground, unless he finds others

to go with him. [1365] The enjoyment which he seeks is the enjoyment of

his own cultivated personality; and wherever this standard prevails,

particular value is attached to the personal relations of society, and

to friendship. [1366]

Hence Epicurus uses language on the value and necessity of friendship

which goes far beyond the grounds on which he bases it. Friendship is

unconditionally the highest of earthly goods. [1367] It is far more

important in whose company we eat and drink, than what we eat and

drink. [1368] In case of emergency, the wise man will not shrink from

suffering the greatest pains, even death, for his friend. [1369]

It is well known that the conduct of Epicurus and his followers was in

harmony with these professions. The Epicurean friendship is hardly less

celebrated than the Pythagorean. [1370] There may be an offensive

mawkishness and a tendency to mutual admiration apparent in the

relations of Epicurus to his friends, [1371] but of the sincerity of

his feelings there can be no doubt. One single expression referring to

the property of friends, [1372] is enough to prove what a high view

Epicurus held of friendship; and there is evidence to show that he

aimed at a higher improvement of his associates. [1373]

In other respects Epicurus bore the reputation of being a kind,

benevolent, and genial companion. [1374] His teaching bears the same

impress. It meets the inexorable sternness of the Stoics by insisting

on compassion and forgiveness, [1375] and supersedes its own egotism by

the maxim that it is more blessed to give than to receive. [1376] The

number of such maxims on record is, no doubt, limited; nevertheless,

the whole tone of the Epicurean School is a pledge of the humane and

generous character of its moral teaching. [1377] To this trait that

School owes its chief importance in history. By its theory of utility

it undoubtedly did much harm, partly exposing, partly helping forward,

the moral decline of the classic nations. Still, by drawing man away

from the outer world within himself, by teaching him to seek happiness

in the beautiful type of a cultivated mind content with itself, it

contributed quite as much as Stoicism, though after a gentler fashion,

to the development and the extension of a more independent and more

universal morality.

CHAPTER XXI.

THE EPICUREAN SYSTEM AS A WHOLE; ITS POSITION IN HISTORY.

[A. Inner connection of the Epicurean teaching.]

It has often been urged against the Epicurean philosophy, that it is

deficient both in coherence and consistency. Nor is this objection

without foundation. If we come to the study of it, looking for a

complete scientific groundwork, or a strictly logical development, we

shall certainly be disappointed. It is not difficult to show in what

contradictions Epicurus was involved; in professing to trust the senses

wholly and entirely, and yet going beyond the senses to the hidden

causes of things; in despising logical forms and laws, and at the same

time building up his whole system on deductions; in holding that all

sensations are true, but yet maintaining that a portion of the

realities which they represent as belonging to things is only relative.

Nor were these the only inconsistencies. At one time only natural

causes and laws are acknowledged, and any such thing as free will and

imagination is ignored; at another, by the doctrine of the swerving

aside of atoms and of the human will, unexplained caprice is elevated

to the rank of law. Pleasures and pains are all referred to bodily

sensations, and yet mental states are called higher and more important;

nay, more, even from a basis of selfishness rules and precepts of

humanity, justice, love, faithfulness, and devotion are deduced. It

ought not, however, to be forgotten that the Stoics, to whom the claim

of clear and consistent thought cannot be denied, were involved in

similar difficulties. They, like the Epicureans, built up a rational

system on a basis of the senses. They, too, constructed an ideal theory

of morals on a material groundwork of metaphysics. They, too, declared

that universal law is the only active power, whilst they maintained

that reality belongs only to the world of matter. They, too, deduced a

strict theory of virtue from the principle of self-preservation; not to

mention the inconsistent attitude which they assumed towards the

popular religion. To deny to the Stoics a unity and connectedness of

system, because of these scientific defects and inconsistencies, would

be felt to be doing them an injustice. And can Epicureanism be fairly

condemned, when its faults are essentially of the same kind (though a

little more obvious) as those of the Stoics, without a single

extenuating circumstance which can be urged on its behalf?

The Stoics, Epicureans and Sceptics · 第 13 / 19 章